The Cater Street Hangman - Anne Perry [82]
He stood up.
“I’ll sleep in the dressing room. Good night, Sarah. Lock the door if it’ll make you feel safer.”
He heard her speak his name, quietly, hoarsely, but he shut the door behind him without turning. He wanted to be alone, to absorb it, and to sleep.
Chapter Ten
OF COURSE, CHARLOTTE KNEW nothing about Dominic’s feelings, or what had passed between him and Sarah on his return from the club. But the following day she could not help but be aware that there was a deep strain between them, deeper than anything accountable for by Sarah’s standing suspicion about Dominic and herself.
The whole matter was swept violently from her mind in the afternoon, however, when she was alone in the house, copying out a folder of recipes for Mrs. Lessing. She had just turned to the window to look at the clouds massing; everyone else was out visiting and Charlotte was thinking that they would get wet—when there was a timid, urgent rapping at the door.
“Come in,” she said absently. It was too early for tea. It must be some problem with the preparations for dinner.
It was Millie, the new maid, and she looked terrified. Charlotte’s immediate thought was that she had been outside on some errand, perhaps only as far as the areaway, and had either been molested herself, or seen something or someone that had put the hangman into her mind.
“Come in, Millie,” Charlotte said again. “You had better sit down. You look dreadful. What is it?”
“Oh, Miss Charlotte.” The poor child was shaking as if she had a fever. “I’m so glad it’s you!”
“Sit down, Millie, and tell me what has happened,” Charlotte commanded.
Millie’s legs seemed locked rigid and her hands were twisting in each other as if of their own volition. Suddenly speech deserted her and she looked as though she was about to run.
“For goodness’ sake,” Charlotte sighed, taking Millie bodily and pushing her into a chair. “Now what has happened? Were you outside on an errand? Or in the areaway?”
“Oh no, Miss Charlotte!” she looked quite surprised.
“Well, what is it then? Where were you?”
“Upstairs in my room, Miss. Oh, Mrs. Dunphy told me I could go!”
Charlotte stepped back; she was confused herself. She had been sure Millie’s pale demeanor had something to do with the hangman. Now it seemed it had not.
“So what’s wrong, Millie? Are you sick?”
“No, Miss,” Millie stared down at her hands, still twisting in her lap. Charlotte followed her eyes, and realized for the first time that she was holding something.
“What have you got, Millie?”
“Oh,” Millie’s eyes filled with tears. “I wouldn’t have brought it Miss, but I was afraid for my name!” She sniffed violently. “I’m so glad it’s you, Miss.” She began to cry with quiet hopelessness.
Charlotte was puzzled; she was not only sorry for Millie, but a little frightened herself.
“What is it, Millie?” She put out her hand. “Give it to me.”
Slowly Millie’s white little fingers uncurled to show a crumpled man’s necktie. It meant nothing at all to Charlotte. She could not see any reason why Millie had brought it to her, or why it should inspire any feeling whatever, let alone the paralyzing terror that so obviously had stricken Millie.
Charlotte took it and held it up. Millie stared at her with enormous eyes.
“It’s a necktie,” Charlotte said blankly. “What’s the matter with it?” Then another thought came to her. “Millie, you didn’t think anyone was strangled with a necktie, did you?” She felt relief sweep through her, almost weakening her knees. She wanted to laugh. “It wasn’t a necktie, Millie! It was a garotting wire. Nothing like this! Take it away, and have Maddock attend to it. It’s filthy!”
“Yes, Miss Charlotte,” but Millie didn’t move. The fear still held her white and motionless.
“Go on, Millie!”
“It’s Mr. Dominic’s, Miss Charlotte. I know, because I collect the laundry. The master’s are made of a different stuff. You can always tell them apart. When I take the laundry back I only have