The Winslowes are found

‘Get up, Jane. We have found them.’

I awoke to my friend violently shaking me and I cried out.

‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Jane, it’s me. Wake up. We have found the Winslowes and if we act, we may find the author of these letters.’

I got out of bed to find Charlotte and Mrs. Fitzhugh already dressed and awaiting me. Mary gave me coffee, which I greedily drank.

‘What time is it?’ I asked after a reviving sip.

‘It’s a little gone two,’ Charlotte said. ‘Get her into these clothes, quickly Mary.’

‘And why am I awake now. Oh my head, I think I had too much negus.’

‘Yes you did, now into this sleeve, Jane.’

I shrugged them off and said, ‘I demand to know what is going on!’

‘I already told you, Jane. My little urchins have located the Winslowes and if we act, we may find out who is sending these letters and if possible, catch them in the act.’

‘Oh,’ I said, finally awakening. ‘That is another matter entirely. You may dress me, Mary, if I might have another sip of coffee first.’

I was dressed while Charlotte related the events of the past hours. Shortly after our return from the ball, Donna and Charlie, the captains of our street Arabs, arrived at the servant’s entrance loudly demanding to be taken to Charlotte.

‘Luckily Mrs. Hutton heeded my admonitions and they were brought to me. They had located the Winslowes here in Bath, living a stone’s throw from here in the Circus, but under the mother’s maiden name Hazelton.’

‘Extraordinary,’ I said. ‘Living under an assumed name. There is desperation there.’ I could not help but think of the times I wished I could live under another name to escape my father’s shame.

‘Not quite as it seems,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh said. ‘Mrs. Winslow and daughter stay with the family of her sister, Mrs. Hazelton, her husband and their daughter.’

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘that explains it.’ I was a little disappointed that the explanation was so pedestrian.

We were now walking downstairs. ‘Very well, I understand all this, but why must we go in the middle of the night. Can we not visit them in the morning as civilised people?’

‘We do not go to visit. We go to catch our prey. Hurry Jane!’

A few minutes walk brought us to the Circus where it intersects with Bennett Street and No. 18, the house at the corner. We three …

‘Wait, there are four of us,’ I said.

‘Mary, what are you doing here?’ Charlotte asked.

‘I’m sorry, miss. I just followed you while putting a coat on Miss Woodsen.’

‘And left the house without a coat of your own, silly girl. Go back at once.’

‘Quiet,’ I hissed, ‘the door just opened.’ I motioned us back down Bennett Street out of sight of the young woman who had just exited the house.

‘What if she comes down this street?’ I asked Charlotte.

‘She won’t, but quick, into this doorway.’

We watched the young woman cross Bennett Street and continue south along the Circus.

‘Mary, I want you to return home immediately. Here take my coat and instruct Mrs. Hutton to have something warm for us on our return. And we may have a guest.’

‘How do you know where she will go,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh asked, as we followed the young girl.

‘Because the Ashby’s stay on Gay Street. Yes, she has turned.’

We followed the young woman at a distance for at this quiet time of night of footsteps echoed loudly, but we need not have worried for the singleness of her purpose did not dispose her to look back.

‘Yes, this is the Ashby’s address, No. 40. Down, we can surprise her on her return.’

‘What is she doing Charlotte?’ Mrs. Fitzhugh asked.

‘She is putting a letter under the door,’ I said. ‘She is the author! She’s coming back.’

The young lady approached us and although we were crouched low it seemed impossible that she could not see us and I could not help but think we were a comical group. But the next few seconds showed that her mood was ill suited to comedy.

Charlotte suddenly stood upright and said, ‘Miss Catherine Winslow? My name is Charlotte House and you will come with us to explain yourself.’

A sharp cry and a low moan prepared me and I was ready to catch the young woman as she fainted. Fortunately she was very slender and with Mrs. Fitzhugh’s help we kept her upright.

‘This should do the trick,’ Charlotte said, as she produced a vinaigrette and waved its pungent aroma under Miss Winslow’s nose. Its effect was immediate and the young woman regained her balance.

‘Who are you?’ she cried. ‘Why do you frighten me so?’

‘Miss Winslow, you have much to explain. We know you to be author of poisonous letters directed at the Ashbys.’

‘Why do you wish them ill?’ I asked.

‘Ill? I do not. I only hope that another will not suffer as have I.’ She gave another low moan and I readied myself to support her again. Charlotte opened the vinaigrette.

‘No, there is no need,’ she said, stopping Charlotte’s hand.

‘We will take you to your home,’ Charlotte said.

‘No, please do not. It would distress my mother.’

‘Then we shall take you to our home and there you can answer our questions.’

 

It was a long trip back to our home. Even with our assistance, Miss Winslow walked slowly and I ached with a desire to ask her further questions, but I knew that she needed rest and something warm in her before she could talk. And despite the knowledge that she threatened the happiness of another, I could not help but feel sympathy for the burden she seemed to carry.

Mary, the other maid Alice and Mrs. Hutton all awaited us when returned home.

‘Mary, get some blankets for our guest and Mrs. Hutton, some brandy all round,’ Charlotte ordered. We brought Miss Winslow into the sitting room and soon had her wrapped in blankets while Alice stoked the fire. Mrs. Hutton returned with the brandy.

‘This should warm you,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh told Miss Winslow. After a swallow, the warmth came back to her cheeks and she nodded her thanks. Finally Charlotte thanked our helpers and closed the sitting room doors. We all sat, Charlotte directly across from our guest, and we drank our brandy and I realized how cold I was despite our exertion helping Miss Winslow.

‘Now, Miss Winslow, perhaps you will tell us what you meant, that you did not mean the Ashbys ill.’

‘It is for their sake that I wrote those letters, to keep them from danger.’

‘Ah, I began to suspect as much,’ Charlotte said. She leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers before her. ‘And that danger is?’

‘Lord William.’

‘And what has that man done that makes him a danger,’ Charlotte said in a very cool voice. Mrs. Fitzhugh and I exchanged looks and I knew my eyes were as wide as hers.

‘He is not a man. He is a monster.’

The sob in Miss Winslow’s throat stabbed at my heart. Mrs. Fitzhugh started to rise to tend to her, but Charlotte’s single raised finger stopped her.

‘You are among friends, Miss Winslow. Tell us what Lord William has done to you.’

‘He has used me and left me unsuitable for any other.’ Her hand stole to her left breast. We all noticed her movement. All was silent in the room save the crackle of the fire and the distant ticking of the hall clock.

‘Let us see, please,’ Charlotte said, in that tone of command at which I had earlier laughed. Miss Winslow slowly pushed back the blanket from her shoulder and then pulled back the edge of her bodice. I heard Mrs. Fitzhugh gasp as we saw the angry red scar that started at her shoulder blade. Her hand continued around the edge of the bodice and we could see that scar continued diagonally across her upper chest. Her hand stopped.

‘It continues,’ she said.

‘Mrs. Fitzhugh,’ Charlotte said while dropping her raised finger. Mrs. Fitzhugh rose and attended Miss Winslow, returning the poor woman’s hand to her lap and wrapping the blanket tight against her body.

‘This was last year, when there was an understanding between yourself and Lord William.’

‘Yes.’

‘And then shortly thereafter your father died and you removed from Bath.’

‘Yes. My mother and I returned this season with my uncle and aunt.’

‘And then you read of Lord William’s betrothal to Miss Ashby.’

‘Yes. I could not let another …’

‘Quite.’

‘But why …’ I stopped and looked at Charlotte to see if I might continue. She nodded and I added, ‘Why defame Miss Ashby?’

‘Because no one would believe me when Lord William … defiled me.’ She spoke the last with a bitterness at odds with her previous demeanour. ‘I am sure my father died from shame of it. I could not say anything that would make the world believe the truth of it. All I could hope is that Lord William would not hurt another.’

‘But you could not bring yourself to irreparably harm Miss Ashby. That is why you sent the letters only to her and those closest to her, that the harm might be contained.’

The Winslowes are found

‘Get up, Jane. We have found them.’

I awoke to my friend violently shaking me and I cried out.

‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Jane, it’s me. Wake up. We have found the Winslowes and if we act, we may find the author of these letters.’

I got out of bed to find Charlotte and Mrs. Fitzhugh already dressed and awaiting me. Mary gave me coffee, which I greedily drank.

‘What time is it?’ I asked after a reviving sip.

‘It’s a little gone two,’ Charlotte said. ‘Get her into these clothes, quickly Mary.’

‘And why am I awake now. Oh my head, I think I had too much negus.’

‘Yes you did, now into this sleeve, Jane.’

I shrugged them off and said, ‘I demand to know what is going on!’

‘I already told you, Jane. My little urchins have located the Winslowes and if we act, we may find out who is sending these letters and if possible, catch them in the act.’

‘Oh,’ I said, finally awakening. ‘That is another matter entirely. You may dress me, Mary, if I might have another sip of coffee first.’

I was dressed while Charlotte related the events of the past hours. Shortly after our return from the ball, Donna and Charlie, the captains of our street Arabs, arrived at the servant’s entrance loudly demanding to be taken to Charlotte.

‘Luckily Mrs. Hutton heeded my admonitions and they were brought to me. They had located the Winslowes here in Bath, living a stone’s throw from here in the Circus, but under the mother’s maiden name Hazelton.’

‘Extraordinary,’ I said. ‘Living under an assumed name. There is desperation there.’ I could not help but think of the times I wished I could live under another name to escape my father’s shame.

‘Not quite as it seems,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh said. ‘Mrs. Winslow and daughter stay with the family of her sister, Mrs. Hazelton, her husband and their daughter.’

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘that explains it.’ I was a little disappointed that the explanation was so pedestrian.

We were now walking downstairs. ‘Very well, I understand all this, but why must we go in the middle of the night. Can we not visit them in the morning as civilised people?’

‘We do not go to visit. We go to catch our prey. Hurry Jane!’

A few minutes walk brought us to the Circus where it intersects with Bennett Street and No. 18, the house at the corner. We three …

‘Wait, there are four of us,’ I said.

‘Mary, what are you doing here?’ Charlotte asked.

‘I’m sorry, miss. I just followed you while putting a coat on Miss Woodsen.’

‘And left the house without a coat of your own, silly girl. Go back at once.’

‘Quiet,’ I hissed, ‘the door just opened.’ I motioned us back down Bennett Street out of sight of the young woman who had just exited the house.

‘What if she comes down this street?’ I asked Charlotte.

‘She won’t, but quick, into this doorway.’

We watched the young woman cross Bennett Street and continue south along the Circus.

‘Mary, I want you to return home immediately. Here take my coat and instruct Mrs. Hutton to have something warm for us on our return. And we may have a guest.’

‘How do you know where she will go,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh asked, as we followed the young girl.

‘Because the Ashby’s stay on Gay Street. Yes, she has turned.’

We followed the young woman at a distance for at this quiet time of night of footsteps echoed loudly, but we need not have worried for the singleness of her purpose did not dispose her to look back.

‘Yes, this is the Ashby’s address, No. 40. Down, we can surprise her on her return.’

‘What is she doing Charlotte?’ Mrs. Fitzhugh asked.

‘She is putting a letter under the door,’ I said. ‘She is the author! She’s coming back.’

The young lady approached us and although we were crouched low it seemed impossible that she could not see us and I could not help but think we were a comical group. But the next few seconds showed that her mood was ill suited to comedy.

Charlotte suddenly stood upright and said, ‘Miss Catherine Winslow? My name is Charlotte House and you will come with us to explain yourself.’

A sharp cry and a low moan prepared me and I was ready to catch the young woman as she fainted. Fortunately she was very slender and with Mrs. Fitzhugh’s help we kept her upright.

‘This should do the trick,’ Charlotte said, as she produced a vinaigrette and waved its pungent aroma under Miss Winslow’s nose. Its effect was immediate and the young woman regained her balance.

‘Who are you?’ she cried. ‘Why do you frighten me so?’

‘Miss Winslow, you have much to explain. We know you to be author of poisonous letters directed at the Ashbys.’

‘Why do you wish them ill?’ I asked.

‘Ill? I do not. I only hope that another will not suffer as have I.’ She gave another low moan and I readied myself to support her again. Charlotte opened the vinaigrette.

‘No, there is no need,’ she said, stopping Charlotte’s hand.

‘We will take you to your home,’ Charlotte said.

‘No, please do not. It would distress my mother.’

‘Then we shall take you to our home and there you can answer our questions.’

 

It was a long trip back to our home. Even with our assistance, Miss Winslow walked slowly and I ached with a desire to ask her further questions, but I knew that she needed rest and something warm in her before she could talk. And despite the knowledge that she threatened the happiness of another, I could not help but feel sympathy for the burden she seemed to carry.

Mary, the other maid Alice and Mrs. Hutton all awaited us when returned home.

‘Mary, get some blankets for our guest and Mrs. Hutton, some brandy all round,’ Charlotte ordered. We brought Miss Winslow into the sitting room and soon had her wrapped in blankets while Alice stoked the fire. Mrs. Hutton returned with the brandy.

‘This should warm you,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh told Miss Winslow. After a swallow, the warmth came back to her cheeks and she nodded her thanks. Finally Charlotte thanked our helpers and closed the sitting room doors. We all sat, Charlotte directly across from our guest, and we drank our brandy and I realized how cold I was despite our exertion helping Miss Winslow.

‘Now, Miss Winslow, perhaps you will tell us what you meant, that you did not mean the Ashbys ill.’

‘It is for their sake that I wrote those letters, to keep them from danger.’

‘Ah, I began to suspect as much,’ Charlotte said. She leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers before her. ‘And that danger is?’

‘Lord William.’

‘And what has that man done that makes him a danger,’ Charlotte said in a very cool voice. Mrs. Fitzhugh and I exchanged looks and I knew my eyes were as wide as hers.

‘He is not a man. He is a monster.’

The sob in Miss Winslow’s throat stabbed at my heart. Mrs. Fitzhugh started to rise to tend to her, but Charlotte’s single raised finger stopped her.

‘You are among friends, Miss Winslow. Tell us what Lord William has done to you.’

‘He has used me and left me unsuitable for any other.’ Her hand stole to her left breast. We all noticed her movement. All was silent in the room save the crackle of the fire and the distant ticking of the hall clock.

‘Let us see, please,’ Charlotte said, in that tone of command at which I had earlier laughed. Miss Winslow slowly pushed back the blanket from her shoulder and then pulled back the edge of her bodice. I heard Mrs. Fitzhugh gasp as we saw the angry red scar that started at her shoulder blade. Her hand continued around the edge of the bodice and we could see that scar continued diagonally across her upper chest. Her hand stopped.

‘It continues,’ she said.

‘Mrs. Fitzhugh,’ Charlotte said while dropping her raised finger. Mrs. Fitzhugh rose and attended Miss Winslow, returning the poor woman’s hand to her lap and wrapping the blanket tight against her body.

‘This was last year, when there was an understanding between yourself and Lord William.’

‘Yes.’

‘And then shortly thereafter your father died and you removed from Bath.’

‘Yes. My mother and I returned this season with my uncle and aunt.’

‘And then you read of Lord William’s betrothal to Miss Ashby.’

‘Yes. I could not let another …’

‘Quite.’

‘But why …’ I stopped and looked at Charlotte to see if I might continue. She nodded and I added, ‘Why defame Miss Ashby?’

‘Because no one would believe me when Lord William … defiled me.’ She spoke the last with a bitterness at odds with her previous demeanour. ‘I am sure my father died from shame of it. I could not say anything that would make the world believe the truth of it. All I could hope is that Lord William would not hurt another.’

‘But you could not bring yourself to irreparably harm Miss Ashby. That is why you sent the letters only to her and those closest to her, that the harm might be contained.’

We meet Lord William

I started my preparations for the ball with a gloomy outlook, but Mary would have none of it.

‘Shouldn’t you be helping Miss House, Mary?’

‘No miss, Alice is helping her tonight.’ She said this with a tone that implied Alice’s help might be more of a hindrance. ‘Miss House said that I should help you tonight, that you might need some cheering up.’

‘Ah, so you have heard of my misfortune.’ I had long suspected that Charlotte’s relationship with Mary was unusual for mistress and maid.

‘Yes, but in confidence of course, miss. And if you want to hear my thoughts, you’re better off here than as a governess.’

I turned my head to look at her and Mary jumped back with the curling iron in her hand.

‘Careful, miss, this thing is hot.’

I ignored her caution and asked, ‘And why am I better off here?’

‘You’re a lady … of quality. I could tell that the first day we met. But a governess, she’s not fish or fowl. No one in a household ever likes the governess; and you’d be miserable, teaching some brat.’ She said all this quickly and then lowered her eyes and added: ‘miss.’

I looked at her in amazement of her effrontery, but after a pause laughed a quick bark, not unlike Charlotte’s. Mary kept her eyes downcast but I could a smile creep onto her face. I turned back toward the mirror and said, ‘Well, get a move on girl. I mustn’t be late for the ball.’

 

Inside the carriage on the way to assembly room, Charlotte and Mrs. Fitzhugh sat opposite me, both looking concerned.

‘You look so pretty, my dear,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh said, for probably the third time that night. Charlotte nodded in agreement.

‘Thank you, both, and I am in much improved spirits. Mary worked her wonders on me,’ I said, looking steadily at Charlotte, who quickly assumed an attitude of nonchalance.

‘I certainly hope we meet Lord William tonight,’ I said, wanting to move past my disappointment. ‘What do you know of him, Mrs. Fitzhugh?’

‘As I said before, very little. I have met him and he is quite handsome and polite, paying me such little compliments as befits a more … mature lady like myself.’ I heard a little snort from another corner of the carriage, but it must have been a creak from the springs.

‘Surely you have more details than that.’

She sighed, and said, ‘He is in late thirties but appears younger, about Charlotte’s height, dark colouring, when no one is watching he looks languid, almost torporous, but when he is noticed becomes very affable. He looks very intently at the person to whom he is speaking, like … like …’

‘Like Charlotte?’ I supplied.

‘Yes, that’s it, just like Charlotte.’

I heard another snort from the springs, and then we arrived.

 

I shall not belabour the spectacles of yet another ball, except to say that the dancing was spirited, the gowns beautiful and the men charming, but in truth I did not notice any of this because I was too engaged trying to spot Lord William. Perhaps my failure at securing a position had made me even more determined to apply myself as Charlotte’s assistant, and the light banter in the coach had done much to improve my spirits.

But for most of the evening, my efforts were in vain. We soon found Mrs. Ashby and her daughter, however, and I must admit her daughter’s character left something to be desired.

‘Miss House, I’m so happy you’re here. Mamma has told me all about you and I’m sure you’ll do everything you can to stop whoever is trying to ruin my chances with Lord William.’

Charlotte took her regal tone with the effusive Miss Ashby. ‘Of course, Miss Ashby. We shall do everything in our power to’ — she moved closer to her and dropped her voice — ‘stop these completely unfounded rumours.’ As she said this she glanced sharply at Mrs. Ashby who, after a moments hesitation, vigorously nodded.

Miss Ashby did not seem to comprehend the silent conversation taking place between my friend and her mother. She was a ripe and energetic young woman of rosy cheeks and warm auburn hair.

‘She’s fair to bursting out of that gown,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh said to me confidentially. ‘Mind you, she is young and only taking advantage of that which nature so …’

‘Generously gave her,’ I finished for her. We laughed and our laughter brought us to the attention of Charlotte.

‘Forgive me, Miss Ashby, for being delinquent in introducing my friends, Mrs. Fitzhugh and Miss Woodsen. They are as solicitous of protecting your honour as am I.’

‘The more the merrier,’ the young woman said, somewhat distracted by a young military man who was claiming her for the next dance. ‘Pardon me, but Mr. … um’

‘Henshaw, at your service,’ the young man said.

‘Silly me. Mr. Henshaw has claimed this next dance.’

She was led off, leaving us with her mother, and as a group, we three looked steadily at her.

‘My daughter has high spirits, despite the trouble that afflicts us,’ she said.

‘She bears her burden well,’ I said.

‘She is young and foolish, but that is not a crime,’ Mrs. Ashby said.

‘No, that is nature,’ Charlotte added. ‘But to business. I think I see Lord William yonder.’

I looked in the direction indicated and saw Lord William. I heard a little cry from Mrs. Ashby who gazed at the man enraptured. No little wonder, I thought, 10,000 a year in his own right if the rumours be true and the eldest son of a earl; she had a right to be enraptured at the thought of her daughter making such an alliance. And he was a fine figure of a man, taller than Charlotte with jet-black, thick hair and refined features atop a muscular physique that spoke of athletic pursuits.

He soon saw Mrs. Ashby, aided by the semaphore of her handkerchief, and approached our group.

‘My dear Mrs. Ashby, how delightful to see you,’ he said, with a sweep of his arm to accompany his bow. ‘But where is the fair Miss Ashby?’

‘You see her dancing to Highgate, Lord William.’

‘Ah, of course, the spirited girl with the roses in her cheeks. And these ladies, why are they not dancing?’

‘Pardon me, Lord William. I should like you to meet my friends, Mrs. … um, Fitz … hugh, Miss House and Miss Woodsen.’

‘Mrs. Um-Fitzhugh,’ Lord William cheekily said with his bow, ‘and Miss House … I’ve heard of you … and Miss Woodsen. Delighted.’

‘Lord William, it is an honour,’ Charlotte said.

‘Nonsense, I am the one honoured here. Ah, the dance is ending, and as my dear Sophia has left me alone, would you do me the further honour of the next dance.’

Charlotte assented as Miss Ashby joined us.

‘William, I did not see you enter,’ Miss Ashby cried, as she ran to him and claimed his arm.

‘You were too busy enjoying yourself to notice me,’ he said with mock hurt.

‘Silly, that is your fault if you arrive so late, but dance with me now.’

‘No, I have already claimed Miss House and she has kindly agreed. You, my dear, need some refreshment. You are flushed and could hardly sustain another dance.’

‘I am rather beat,’ she agreed. ‘Mamma, let’s let William have his dance while we find some negus.’

Lord William led Charlotte to dance while Mrs. Fitzhugh and I remained.

‘We are to be the wallflowers, then,’ I said.

‘I think you have no reason to fear,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh said, and nodded in the direction of a man who approached us.

‘Miss Woodsen, I hope I am not too late to claim this dance?’ the man asked, whom I recognized but whose name I could not recall.

‘I am sure Jane would be delighted to dance, Mr. Wallace,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh said. I stared at her in wonder, for it was the first time she had called me by my given name, and in gratitude for reminding me of the gentleman’s name.

‘Yes, of course, Mr. Wallace, how kind of you to ask.’

Mr. Wallace led me to the dancers and we took our positions at the far end of the line from Charlotte and Lord William. Charlotte caught my eye and nodded to me as the dance began.

‘You forgot me, Miss Woodsen,’ Mr. Wallace said just before we separated.

‘I forgot your name, sir. I did not forget you,’ I said as we rejoined.

He smiled. ‘I am glad to have found you tonight,’ Mr. Wallace said. ‘I have wanted to thank you for the aid you offered my cousin that night.’

‘And how is Miss Williams? and Mrs. Williams?’ I asked before we separated again.

‘She is well. They are well. Lucy is to marry Mr. Tattersall after all.’ Again we separated and again rejoined.

‘I am happy to hear it,’ I said, although I remembered well adding the notice to Charlotte’s commonplace book.

‘It is due to you and Miss House that the marriage is to take place.’

‘She deserves all the credit, Mr. Wallace. I was a mere player.’

‘You caught her as she fell.’

‘And you caught me.’ We exchanged partners again and rejoined.

‘It was my pleasure.’

‘I enjoyed it too,’ I said, amused at my sudden boldness. I thought my reply caught him off guard for he seemed to trip as we exchanged partners, coincidentally with the young man who had been the partner of Miss Ashby earlier.

‘My apologies,’ he said after he caught up. ‘I was worried that you had left Bath.’

‘I was unwell for a time but have recovered.’

‘I was unsure where I might call.’

‘I stay with Miss House.’

‘Then I might call upon you?’

‘Yes,’ I said, quickly adding before another separation, ‘Number 3 the Royal Crescent. That is the address.’

All too soon the dance ended. Mr. Wallace made his goodbye and promised again to call. Charlotte collected me and we returned to Mrs. Fitzhugh.

‘Jane has reconnected with Mr. Wallace,’ Charlotte told Mrs. Fitzhugh.

‘He did not know where I lived,’ I said. ‘He wanted to call.’

‘Your spirits certainly have improved.’

‘There is nothing like the expectation of a man,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh added.

I noticed the archness of their tone and said, ‘Yes, well, all right. And how did you enjoy your dance, Charlotte? Lord William certainly showed an interest in you.’

‘He is an excellent partner,’ she answered. ‘Let us find a place to sit and I’ll tell you of our conversation.’

We found a place and Charlotte started: ‘He repeated that he knew of me and of my employment. “You are the court of last appeal,” he said — I rather like that – “but what need arises that involves you in my betrothal to Miss Ashby?”

‘I told him that it was merely coincidence that we met and that I was surprised that we had not met earlier.

‘“Oh, but you are a dangerous woman, Miss House,” — I rather like that as well — “and it is not wise to make the acquaintance of dangerous women.” Utterly charming and designed to put me off my guard, which I am sad to say it did.’ I was forced to talk of inconsequential matters.’

‘I’m sorry you learned little,’ I said.

‘I would not say that. I learned quite a deal of the young lord’s character. You will remember a moment of clumsiness during the dance?’

I had hoped no one had noticed Mr. Wallace’s clumsiness, but of course Charlotte would.

‘Do not blame your young man. Lord William tripped Mr. Henshaw who bumped into Mr. Wallace.’

‘What?’ I cried. ‘How uncouth!’

‘On the contrary, it was brilliantly done. I am sure Mr. Wallace and Mr. Henshaw are both blaming their own clumsiness when it is Lord William to blame. In fact, I don’t know how he did it, for I did not see it, but the look of satisfaction on his face made his guilt clear.

‘I fear our young lord is a contradiction. He appears on the surface affable and charming but underneath he can be petty and vindictive. I fear he uses people for his own ends without consideration of their … why are you looking at me in that way?’

‘I really must get some refreshment,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh said. ‘Will you accompany me, Jane.’

‘I should be happy to, Margaret,’ I said, and allowed her to lead me away from the puzzled Charlotte. In fact the rest of the night we tried to avoid looking directly at Charlotte and from that point Mrs. Fitzhugh and I were fast friends.

I seek a position

All that could be done now was wait. We learned from Mrs. Ashby that Lord William had returned to town and that we would have the opportunity to meet him at the Thursday ball but until then our avenues of inquiry were closed.

I did, however, have an opportunity to meet with a potential employer. I had been remiss in attempting to find employment because of the obligations I felt I owed Miss House and during my illness, but I had recently renewed my efforts and had lately received an answer from a Mrs. Danvers, whom I had written. We were to meet the next day.

‘Who is this Danvers?’ Charlotte asked me during dinner.

‘I thought you should know her, Charlotte,’ I said.

‘I know everyone important.’

‘Yes, well Mrs. Danvers may not be important but her husband is a very successful … ’

‘He’s in trade, then.’

‘He owns a quarry near Bradford.’

‘Bradford!’

‘Yes, Bradford. It is not quite the back side of beyond.’

‘And they have wretched children they want you to teach.’

‘I thought you quite liked children. You treated your little street Arabs very sweetly.’

She gave me the look she uses when she meant to be disagreeable for its own sake. ‘I like to employ them. It does not mean I desire their prolonged company.’

‘What of your own children?’

‘What?’ she said sharply.

‘Had you children of your own,’ I said, somewhat taken aback by her tone.

‘That would be an entirely different matter. Fine, then, see this Danvers woman and mind that you don’t track dust back here.’

I will admit being dismayed by my friend’s lack of encouragement, but I had by now learned to accept her changeable moods. Nevertheless, I looked forward to meeting Mrs. Danvers. The situation she had described sounded well suited to my own accomplishments and her daughter’s age of ten made me think fondly of my own sister at that age. And despite my friend’s generosity, I felt I should make my own way in the world.

The next day, as I was preparing to leave for the short walk to meet Mrs. Danvers at the home of her friend in Bath, Charlotte surprised me.

‘Leaving to meet Mrs. Danvers, I presume?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ I answered, still irritated at her comments the night before.

‘I feel the need of some fresh air. Might I accompany you? For if you leave, we may not have many more opportunities.’

She said this so wistfully that I could not remain mad at her and begged her company. We walked arm-in-arm, she chatting happily and making the best of the situation, telling me that I should be the best governess imaginable, while I felt miserable that I might soon be leaving her house.

Fifteen minutes found us before the house of Mrs. Danvers’s friend. We stood outside for several minutes while Charlotte gave me instructions on how to comport myself.

‘You should get no less than £20 a year, but try for £25, and no less than a week’s holiday.’

‘Thank you, Charlotte. I will always remember this kindness.’

‘Tut, it is nothing, of course you will get this position. After all, you have the gloves for it.’

We smiled at the thought and I proceeded up the stairs, Charlotte motioning me toward the door as I faltered. I gave her one last look as I raised the knocker and saw her retreating down the street.

The door opened and a footman beckoned me in. I gave my name and he was preparing to announce me when a woman flew down the stairs.

‘You are Miss Woodsen?’ she asked.

‘I am,’ I said. ‘Mrs. Danvers?’

She paused before answering. ‘Yes. It will do you no good. The position is filled. Thank you. James, please show this woman out.’

I stared helplessly at her. The footman’s approach broke my inaction.

‘Please, Mrs. Danvers, I do not understand. How could the position be filled?’

‘James, please show her out.’

‘Please miss,’ the footman said. He led me to the door and I stood without and felt my optimism crumble. It took me a full hour to return to Charlotte’s home.

‘Whatever is the matter?’ Mrs. Fitzhugh asked me after I entered.

I gave a weak smile and explained my trip to her and I confess I cried a little and she put her arms around me and let me put my head on her shoulder.

‘There, there. It was not meant to be this time, that’s all. Obviously the position was filled by another before you arrived.’

‘She gave me a look like I was some … some objectionable thing.’

Charlotte entered the hallway.

‘What is all this?’

‘She did not get the position,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh explained.

‘My dear Jane, I am so sorry. But all this means is that I should not lose your company. And remember, tonight we meet Lord William.’

Irregular means

Although we must wait to be introduced to Lord William at the ball, we continued our efforts to find the Winslowes.

‘I think it is time to employ other means,’ Charlotte told me the next day in the library, ‘and judging by the noises I hear from the kitchen, those means have just arrived.’

We soon heard a knock at the door, followed by the housekeeper Mrs. Hutton leading a group of children. They were a dirty, ragged lot, but eager looking and noisy.

‘Here they are, Miss House. Why you would want them in the house is beyond me, but I brought them to you just like you asked.’

‘Thank you Mrs. Hutton, I am much obliged. Now if you might return with some cakes and tea?’

The children were listening to this exchange with rapt attention, their eyes darting back and forth to each speaker.

‘Yes, Miss House, as you say,’ the housekeeper said through clenched teeth.

The housekeeper left the library.

‘Close the door, Jane, if you don’t mind,’ Charlotte said. After that was done, she addressed the children.

‘Please sit children. We’ve only four chairs so two may sit with us on the edge of the tables.’

The oldest and largest children took the chairs, leaving two very small children, a boy and a girl, looking up at us. I judged them to be about the age of the children of one of the servants at my home, but they could not match their country-bred wholesomeness. They could never get up on the tables on their own so I lifted each child — a very light burden indeed — and placed them side-by-side on the table. They immediately separated, I assumed to make room for me in the middle, and so I joined them. It had been a long time since I had so carelessly sat on a table edge and I unconsciously did what I always did as a child — I started swinging my legs, in which my two companions joined.

‘Please Jane, set a good example,’ Charlotte said in mock seriousness. I stopped swinging my legs and meekly said ‘yes, miss,’ and the children followed suit.

At this time Mrs. Hutton and Mary returned with tea and cakes, served with the household staff’s mugs and plates, I observed. Mrs. Hutton ordered Mary to dole out the mugs and add astonishing amounts of cream and sugar. It took full ten minutes for the children to eat and drink their fill with much spilled tea, cakes and cookies on the floor, all the while Mrs. Hutton muttering: ‘Look at the mess. It’ll take forever to clean this. Oh, not another mug!’

Eventually Mrs. Hutton’s ordeal was over and the surviving mugs and plates were removed. The children looked pleased and covered in crumbs, which they were slowly transferring to their mouths.

‘Thank you all for coming,’ Charlotte said. At her words they stopped fidgeting and gave her their full attention. ‘I have another request of you. I need to find the whereabouts of the Winslow family. Do any of you know where they live?’

The children looked at each other and exchanged shakes of their heads.

‘No, miss, we don’t,’ the oldest girl said.

‘There was a family by that name,’ the oldest boy said, ‘but they moved last year, miss.’

‘Very well, Donna, Charlie, I need you to find the family for me. There was at least a father, mother and daughter. I do not know if there were other children. The father may be named Robert and he is — or was — a barrister. I believe him to be dead. The daughter’s name might be Catherine.’

‘That’s them,’ Charlie said. ‘I remember the old man died.’

‘Good, Charlie, I’m glad to have that confirmed.’ The boy smiled. ‘Now I want you to find where the family has moved, and be discreet.’

Donna and Charlie looked confused.

‘It means don’t let on that you are looking for them,’ I added. Charlotte looked at me and nodded. ‘Yes, don’t let on that you are looking for them, just get word back to me.’

She got off the table and presented Donna and Charlie two small handbags and the coins inside them chinked as she placed them in their hands.

‘Distribute this as usual. And the usual reward to whomever gets the information first. Now, off with you.’

Mrs. Hutton, who was obviously eager for them to leave and had perhaps been listening, immediately opened the library door. The older children moved to the door while I helped the two off the table.

‘Irregular means indeed,’ I said, after the noise of the children had retreated.

‘Yes, I find those little Arabs quite useful. They can go anywhere without being noticed and from their situation they’ve developed resourcefulness. Let us hope that they can find the Winslowes and let us further hope that information will do us good.’

An ever-rotating wheel of information

I earlier recounted that I found our social obligations a burden, but I felt differently on this visit to the Lower Assembly Rooms, because this time I was working on someone’s behalf. I began to understand why we visited these rooms again and again.

We joined the society taking a turn in the large ballroom and whereas before the image of prisoners pacing in their cells always came to mind, to-day I saw the crowd as an ever rotating wheel of information, like some vast clockwork mechanism that will reveal secrets if only the separate wheels can be aligned. As usual, we three started as a group but over time we became became two parties, alternately sharing Mrs. Fitzhugh, so that we might converse with as many people as possible.

Of course, we had to be discreet in our inquiries: ‘Mrs. Crawford, so nice to see you again. We were just speaking of you last night to Mrs. Ashby. Why yes, I had heard of the engagement?’ Or: ‘It is a pleasure to make the acquaintance of so fine a gentleman as yourself. But stay, are you not a friend of Lord William Hickham? I believe him to be recently engaged.’

These inquiries were repeated again and again, but we heard little detrimental other than envy about Miss Ashby and her family. After we became three again we even asked our master of ceremonies about the match.

‘Ladies, ma’am, a great pleasure as always,’ he said. ‘And it is good to see you well, Miss Woodsen.’

‘Thank you, Mr. King,’ I said. ‘You are kind to notice.’

He gave a little bow and then Charlotte said, ‘We do not see Mrs. Ashby here to-day. We had hoped to offer our congratulations on the engagement of her daughter to Lord William Hickham.’

‘Hickham, yes,’ he said with a harrumph, ‘high time that young man found himself a wife.’

‘There are many who think the match most advantageous for the Ashbys,’ I said.

‘I dare say it is. But Hickham … Lord William … has remained single far too long for an eldest son. Noblesse oblige, as the French used to say.’

Mrs. Fitzhugh returned, ‘And why is that, I wonder?’

He looked at her puzzled. ‘Well, the revolution might have …’

Charlotte stopped him. ‘No, I think my friend wondered why Lord William is so late in marrying.’

‘Oh, sorry. Well, I don’t know. There have been … Miss House, I take you into my confidence. I …’ He stopped and then looked at me.

‘You may depend on Miss Woodsen’s discretion as you do mine, Mr. King.’

‘Well that’s all right then,’ he said, looking at me before turning back to Charlotte. ‘We have cooperated before on matters of some discretion, Miss House. As I was saying, there had been earlier expectations that Lord William would take a wife and that came to naught.’

‘I was unaware of this,’ Charlotte said. ‘Doubtless those families are now disappointed.’

‘Yes, the Spensers and the Winslowes especially. Don’t see much of them as a matter of fact. I should call on them. Speaking of which — if you will excuse me ladies, I also have my duties at the upper rooms.’

Mr. King left us with something to think about.

‘I don’t think Mr. King will have much luck with the Spensers,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh said. ‘They stopped coming to Bath two seasons ago.’

‘I vaguely remember them,’ Charlotte said. ‘Pretty girl but a little too high spirited.’

‘And the Winslowes?’ I asked Mrs. Fitzhugh.

‘They are here in Bath, but I do not recall seeing them lately. Mr. Winslow died I believe, which may be the reason for their seclusion.’

‘Our next step then is clear,’ I said. ‘We must call on the Winslowes.’

 

Which did not prove easy, because although the Winslowe’s did, at least at one time, live in Bath, we could not find their present address. We inquired again in the upper and lower assembly rooms, at the Pump Room, at the theatre and at every occasion we attended, but no one seemed to know where the Winslowes lived.

In the meantime, we were again visited by Mrs. Ashby.

‘Another letter!’ she cried, once seated in the sitting room. ‘We are ruined!’

‘Calm yourself,’ soothed Mrs. Fitzhugh.

‘Yes,’ I added, ‘we have found no proof that this rumour has spread.’

‘But it has. My best friend Mrs. Clausen brought me this letter only this morning.’

Charlotte looked briefly at the letter and handed it to me. Mrs. Fitzhugh joined me in reading it.

 

Tell Mrs. Ashby that her cat wants to be let out of its bag. Tell her at once or the cat will be lost to her forever.

 

‘That is quite … odd,’ I said. I looked at Charlotte who was smiling.

‘Ruined!’ Mrs. Ashby said again.

Charlotte dropped her smile before addressing the hysterical woman. ‘Courage, Mrs. Ashby. There is nothing to fear if the recipient has not received the previous letter. And besides, you say Mrs. Clausen is your best friend.’

Mrs. Ashby nodded vigorously. ‘We have known each other since childhood.’

‘And she can keep this secret.’

Another nod.

‘And no one else has come forward with letters.’

‘No one.’

‘Then I think the matter remains contained,’ Charlotte said. As usual, her words had a calming effect on Mrs. Ashby.

‘You really think the rumour has not spread?’

‘Yes, after our inquiries, I think I can safely say that you are the only intended recipient of these letters. Now, if you are calm, perhaps you can answer some questions.’

‘Yes, of course, Miss House.’

‘Now, can you tell us how your daughter and Lord William were acquainted?’

‘It was at the start of the season, one of the Monday night balls.’

‘And how were they introduced?’ Charlotte asked.

‘By Mr. King, after my husband …’

‘After your husband had a word with Mr. King,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh supplied.

‘Yes, exactly.’

‘Were you aware of Lord William’s previous understandings?’ Charlotte asked.

‘No.’

‘You are acquainted with the Spensers? Or the Winslowes?’ I asked. Charlotte shot me a look of annoyance, which puzzled me, but Mrs. Ashby did not notice the exchange. I also caught Mrs. Fitzhugh shaking her head at me.

In answer to my question, Mrs. Ashby said, ‘I don’t know the Spensers, and I don’t think I know the Winslowes … although the name does sound familiar. We have not been too many seasons at Bath, you see. We were at Tunbridge Wells last season. Are these people important?’

‘We believe that Lord William had understandings with the daughters of these families.’

‘That cannot be. Lord William is quite charming and forthcoming and told us that he had no interest in marriage until he met our daughter.’

‘Perhaps he …’ I started to say, but stopped when I again saw Charlotte give me a look.

‘Of course, Mrs. Ashby, I must be mistaken. Lord William sounds a delightful man and I should like to meet him.’

‘Yes, that would reassure you, Miss House. I had thought it best not to go to the next ball because of these … but if you are really sure.’ Charlotte nodded. ‘Then I shall introduce you.’

After the plans were made for the ball, Mrs. Fitzhugh assisted Mrs. Ashby in leaving, while leaving Charlotte and I behind in the sitting room.

‘Really, Jane, you must not interfere when I am questioning someone,’ she said, as soon as we were alone. I could see that she was quite annoyed.

‘Is that why you gave me that look?’ I asked. ‘I am your accomplice, am I not.’

She sighed when she heard her own words echoed back to her, and the annoyance left her face. ‘Yes, Jane, you are my partner in crime. But you must recognize when I am trying to induce a state of susceptibility.’

‘Come again?’

‘You must have noticed the effect that I can have on people.’

‘Of course,’ I said. ‘I have noticed it upon myself.’

‘It is a practiced skill. By patient questioning and a commanding tone I can put someone at ease, especially in an intimate setting. I needed Mrs. Ashby in a calm state to ask my questions and I wanted her to hear only my voice.’

‘Mrs. Fitzhugh asked a question,’ I said, petulantly.

‘I know, I know, it made yours that much more annoying.’

I decided to broach a subject that had been bothering me.

‘Do you truly want a friend on whom you can rely, or someone who merely agrees with you?’

‘That is a frank question.’

‘And one I must ask. I realize my position is perilous. You are my benefactor; I exist on your generosity. But I must be allowed to speak my own mind.’

‘And I want you to. Just not when I’m …’

‘… controlling the minds of the susceptible?’

Charlotte had looked quite cross until now, but now she laughed heartily as I heard the sitting room doors open. ‘Are you two still friends?’ Mrs. Fitzhugh asked.

‘I think we are,’ Charlotte said.

‘Did she upbraid you for interrupting her — what d’you call it — mesmerism?’

‘You mean her penetrating gaze and commanding tone?’ I added, and laughed.

‘Yes, she can be quite forceful,’ Mrs. Fitzhugh said, also laughing.

Charlotte looked at us both, this time with mock annoyance. ‘Ha, ha. Very droll. But it does work.’

We ignored her and instead gave each other penetrating and commanding looks.

My first client

The next week I resumed my calls with Charlotte and Mrs. Fitzhugh, and the first person upon whom we called was Mrs. Ashby, whose daughter had been engaged to Lord William Hickham, son of the Earl of Middleborough. A week later, we received a call in return from Mrs. Ashby.

‘Miss House, I am sorry I was out when you called,’ Mrs. Ashby said to my friend, who then introduced Mrs. Fitzhugh and myself. Mrs. Ashby was a stout woman of fair complexion and hair and I could see that she was probably a great beauty in her time, but it was obvious that she had been under a great strain of late. She held a small linen that she twisted and untwisted while talking.

‘I am so very glad to meet you and I am sorry that I have been so remiss in paying you a call, but after the announcement of my daughter’s engagement, I have been … I have been so busy. And so many kind things have been said of you, Miss House, that I felt I must … I hoped that you might …’

‘My dear Mrs. Ashby, it is obvious something is troubling you. Please, if we may be of service,’ Charlotte said. ‘You are among friends.’

Mrs. Ashby dabbed her eyes with her linen. ‘My friend Mrs. Willoughby said I should call, that you had been very kind to her.’

‘Of course, it was very good of her to suggest it.’

‘And then I saw that I had your card,’ Mrs. Ashby said, casting her eyes downwards and dropping her hands to her lap.

‘Yes. It was providential,’ prompted Charlotte. But Mrs. Ashby continued to stare downwards.

Charlotte sighed and turned to Mrs. Fitzhugh. ‘Margaret, would you please ring for some tea?’

We waited awkwardly for the tea. Mrs. Ashby occasionally repeated her gratitude and again mentioned Mrs. Willoughby and the fortuitousness of our call. It was not until that she’d had some tea that we could progress.

‘Mrs. Ashby, please tell what has happened,’ I said.

‘Letters. Horrible letters.’

I confess I leaned forward with interest, as did my friend. Even Mrs. Fitzhugh stopped stirring her tea.

‘What do these letters say, Mrs. Ashby?’ Charlotte asked.

A sob of anguish escaped the poor woman. ‘They accuse my daughter Sophia of indiscretions. They say that she is not … she is not a maid.’

Charlotte sank back in her seat and I saw that the accusation had affected her deeply. Mrs. Fitzhugh left her seat to comfort Mrs. Ashby, but I noticed that she too seemed more interested in our friend.

Charlotte then let out a long breath, brought her shoulders up and then slowly relaxed them, and I again saw detachment steal her expression before she addressed the poor woman. ‘Mrs. Ashby, I do not wish to be unkind and you can be sure of our sympathy and help however you answer, but I must know, is there any truth to this accusation?’

‘No!’ cried Mrs. Ashby. The clarity and strength of her reply startled Mrs. Fitzhugh. ‘My daughter may not be the model of discretion, but she is a good girl.’

‘And why is your daughter not here with you?’

‘The strain of it keeps her at home. She is excessively upset as am I.’

‘I quite understand,’ Charlotte said, ‘but I need to know more if there is to be any hope. Have you the letters?’

‘Yes, I brought them.’ She opened her reticule and produced the letters, much folded to fit in the bag.

Charlotte took the letters and examined them quickly. ‘A woman’s hand,’ she said. ‘Left-handed I think, that is significant. The paper is fine. No watermark. Cut from a larger sheet.’ She passed them to me and I saw that they were identical:

We read that Lord William seeks fallen fruit already sampled by Mr. Jenkins. Is it not wiser to take the apple from the tree? For fruit that has fallen may already have been sampled. Best to put it back and choose another before it is too late.

 

‘There are only the two?’ she asked. Mrs. Ashby nodded.

‘And to whom were they sent?’

‘To my sister, Mrs. Landsdowne, and my cousin Mrs. Mapplethorpe.’

‘And you are sure there are only the two?’

‘That is the matter! How would I know for sure?’ Mrs. Ashby wailed.

‘Precisely,’ Charlotte said. ‘Now, how were they delivered? Were they in the post?’

‘They were found in the morning, slid under the door.’

‘And your sister and your cousin immediately brought them to your attention?’

‘Of course,’ Mrs. Ashby answered.

‘When was this?’

‘Two days after the announcement,’ replied Mrs. Ashby.

Charlotte paused in her questioning, and I used the opportunity to refresh Mrs. Ashby’s cup, which she gratefully accepted.

Charlotte resumed. ‘You are very close to your sister?’

Mrs. Ashby nodded.

‘And to your cousin?’

‘Yes,’ Mrs. Ashby answered, ‘she is a widow with no children and has always taken a special interest in my daughter.’

Charlotte asked ‘And it is well known that you are close to your sister and cousin? You are frequently seen together?’

‘Yes, of course, but what bearing can that have?’

Charlotte ignored the question and continued: ‘And the gentleman in the letter, is he known to your daughter?’

‘What, Mr. Jenkins? They have been introduced, but he is not comely and does not dance well and is a younger son and my daughter has always been rather particular.’

Charlotte gave one of her quick smiles at this. Then she asked, ‘And what does your daughter say of this?’

‘She says nothing, of course! She is in a very nervous state.’

‘And you have no … enemies? Neither you, your husband, your daughter? Any members of your family?’

‘Enemies? No, that is absurd, we are universally well liked.’ That remark produced a sound from Mrs. Fitzhugh that I can only describe as a snort. Mrs. Ashby did not seem to notice, and asked, ‘Do you have any advice for me, Miss House? Oh, I feel so silly, asking such a young woman advice for so delicate a matter.’

Mrs. Fitzhugh took Mrs. Ashby’s hand. ‘You can have every confidence in Miss House. I have known her all my life and can tell you there is no more capable person than she.’

‘And I will do everything I can to help as well,’ I added, much affected by the poor woman’s plight.

‘I think I can offer some hope,’ Charlotte said.

We all looked at her and Mrs. Ashby asked, ‘But how? Who knows how far this slander has spread? If the countess hears of this …’

‘Please, Mrs. Ashby, do not distress yourself further. You must keep up appearances that all is well. Rest assured that we will do all in our power to help and again, I think I can offer some hope that the slander has not spread — yet.’

‘Oh, Miss House, if I could believe you.’ Mrs. Ashby said, ‘but your words do give me some hope.’

Charlotte stood. ‘I am glad that I can at least offer that aid. Now we must begin our inquiries and you must return to your family and try to reassure them.’

We all stood and I saw to Mrs. Ashby’s cloak. When I returned, I saw that she was much improved in spirits and was thanking everyone profusely. But before she left, Charlotte cautioned her.

‘One last thing, Mrs. Ashby. Immediately inform us if you are aware of any further letters. And under no circumstances are you to inquire about any other letters. And I shall need to retain these letters.’ Charlotte fanned the letters before her.

Mrs. Ashby had been nodding her assent the whole while until the last statement, when she suddenly clutched her reticule to her bosom.

‘I have been so afraid not to let them out of my sight and yet I was about to leave without giving it a thought. Yes keep them if you need them but I would rather see them burned.’

‘Which they will be once they are not needed,’ Charlotte assured her. We saw her to the door after that and then returned to the sitting room.

‘What do you make of it, Jane?’ Charlotte asked me.

‘A terrible tragedy to befall them.’ I said.

‘Yes, but what strikes you as relevant? Do you see no inconsistencies?’

Charlotte looked at me intently and I shifted uncomfortably beneath her gaze. ‘No,’ I said meekly.

‘Tchah!’ she said. ‘Think of it, why send letters to the two people most likely not to believe them?’

‘But there are other letters!’ Mrs. Fitzhugh said.

Charlotte said nothing and looked at me.

‘There aren’t other letters?’ I ventured to say.

‘No, I don’t think there are. That is why I offered her some hope.’ She saw the confused look on my face and sighed. ‘Why do we go to the assembly rooms? Why do we talk to maids and cooks? Why? To gather information. And even if the daughter has been indiscreet …’

‘But,’ I cried, ‘her mother most vigorously denied …’

‘There is something you must learn, Jane. Everybody lies. They do it as unconsciously as breathing. But as I was saying, even if the daughter has been indiscreet, we have heard no news of it, and it is a very advantageous match. Lord Middleborough’s son? The envy of it should fan the flames of a rumour like this. The fact that we have heard no intimation of this gives me some hope.’

‘But why send only two letters then?’ Mrs. Fitzhugh asked.

‘Yes, that is a mystery,’ Charlotte confirmed, ‘and it will remain so until we gather more information.’

I sighed and said, ‘So it is to the market again.’