Anne Perry - Rutland Place: A Charlotte and Thomas Pitt Novel (Mortalis)

ANNE PERRY

Rutland Place

FAWCETT CRESTNEW YORK

CharlottePitt took the letter and looked at the errand boy in some surprise. He gazed back with round, intelligent eyes.Was he waiting for a financial reward? She hoped not. She and Thomas had onlyrecently moved from their previous house into this larger, airier one, with itsextra bedroom and tiny garden, and it had taken all their resources.

"Willthere be a reply, ma'am?" the boy said cheerfully, a trifle amused by herslowness. He was generally employed in a wealthier part of the city; people inthese streets ran their own errands. But this was the sort of place he aspiredto one day in the dim, adult future: a terraced house of his own with a cleanstep, curtains at the windows, a flower box or two, and a handsome woman toopen the door and welcome him in at the end of the day.

"Oh,"Charlotte breathed out in relief. "Just a moment." She tore theenvelope, pulled out the single sheet of paper, and read:

12Rutland Place, London. 23rd March, 1886.

Mydear Charlotte,

Acurious and most disturbing thing has happened here lately, and I would valueyour advice upon it. In fact,

AnnePerry

knowingyour past skill and experience with things of tragic or criminal nature,perhaps even your help? Of course this is nothing like the unspeakable affairsyou have unfortunately been drawn into before, in Paragon Walk, or thatappalling business near Resurrection Row, thank heavens simply a small theft.

Butsince the article I have lost is of great sentimental value to me, I am morethan a little distressed over it, and most anxious to have it returned.

Mydear, would you help me in this, at least with your advice? I know you have amaid now who can look after Jemima for you in your absence. If I send thecarriage for you tomorrow about eleven o'clock, will you come and take luncheonwith me, and we can talk over this wretched business? I do so look forward toseeing you.

Yourloving mother, Caroline Ellison.

Charlottefolded the letter and looked back at the boy.

"Ifyou wait just a moment I shall write a reply," she said with a littlesmile, and then, after a small interval, returned to hand him her acceptance.

"Thankyou, ma'am." The boy nodded and scampered off. Apparently he had notexpected more; his reward no doubt customarily came from the sender. Anyway, hewas far too worldly wise not to know precisely who was worth how much, and whowould or would not part with it.

Charlotteclosed the door and went back along the corridor to the kitchen where hereighteen-month-old daughter Jemima was sitting in her crib chewing a pencil.Charlotte took it from her absentmindedly and handed her a colored brickinstead.

"I'veasked you not to give her pencils, Grade," she said to the little maid,who was peeling potatoes. "She doesn't know what they're for. She onlyeats them."

"Didn'tknow she had it, ma'am. She can reach ever so far between those bars.Leastways, it keeps her from getting into the coal scuttle or the stove."

There wasan abacus of bright wooden beads set into the

railingsof the crib, and Charlotte knelt down and rattled them lightly. Jemima wasimmediately attracted and stood up. Charlotte began to count them out for her,and Jemima repeated the words, concentrating hard, her eyes going from thebeads to Charlotte's face, waiting after each word for approval.

Charlottewas only half alert to Jemima. Most of her concentration was on her mother.Her parents had accepted it extremely well when she had told them she was goingto marry, of all things, a policeman! Edward had prevaricated a little andasked her very soberly if she was perfectly sure she knew what she was doing.But right from the start Caroline had understood that her most awkward daughterhad found someone whom she loved, and the trials of such a radical drop in bothsocial and financial status would be far less difficult for her than a politelyarranged marriage to someone she did not love and who could not hold herinterest or respect.

But inspite of their continued affection, it was most unlike Caroline to send forCharlotte over something as trivial as a petty theft. After all, such thingsdid occur every so often. If it was a trinket, it was probably one of theservant girls borrowing it to wear for an evening out. It might well turn upagain, if a few judicious hints were dropped. Caroline had had servants all herlife; she ought to Be able to cope with such a matter without recourse toadvice from anyone.

Still,Charlotte would go; it would be a pleasant day, and she had been through a timeof hard work getting the house into the order she wished.

"I'mgoing out tomorrow, Grade," she said casually. "My mother has invitedme to take luncheon with her. We can leave doing the landing curtains until theday after. You can look after Jemima and scrub this floor and the woodencupboard in the corner. Get some good soap into it. It still smells odd tome."

"Yes,ma'am, and there'll be some laundry. And shall I take Jemima for a walk if it'sfine?"

"Yes,please, that would be excellent." Charlotte stood up. If she was going tobe out for most of tomorrow, then she had better get on with the bread thisafternoon, and see what her best day dress looked like after hanging up in awardrobe over the winter. Gracie was only fifteen, but she was a competentlittle thing and

Anne Perry

liked nothing better than caring for Jemima. Charlotte had alreadytold her that in six months' time there would be another baby to care for. Andit was part of the terms of Gracie's employment that she should do the heavylaundry that another child would entail as well as the usual kitchen andhousehold chores. Far from being daunted by the prospect, Gracie appeared to bepositively excited. She came from a large family herself, and she missed theconstant demanding and noisy companionship of children.

Pitt was tired when he came in from work a little before six. Hehad spent most of the day in the profitless pursuit of a couple of dragsmen,thieves who stole especially from carriages, and had ended up with nothing morefor his exercise than half a dozen descriptions that did not match. Aninspector of his experience would not have been called to deal with the affairat all had not one of the victims been a gentleman of title who was loath tohave anything to do with the police. The man had lost a gold pocket watchinherited from his father-in-law, and did not care to have to explain itsabsence.

Charlotte welcomed him with the same strange mixture of excitementand comfort she always felt at the sight of his untidy, skew-collared,rumple-coated figure. She hugged him for several long, close minutes, thenpresented him with hot soup and his dinner. She did not disturb him with sotrivial a matter as her mother's mislaid item.

The following morning she stood in front of the cheval glass inher bedroom and adjusted the lace fichu at her neck to hide the place where shehad taken off last year's collar. Then she put on her best cameo brooch. Theeffect was entirely satisfactory; she was three months with child, but therewas not yet any observable change in her figure, and with the customarywhalebone corseting that laced even the most recalcitrant waist into elegantcurves uncomfortable though itwas for the more generously made and almost crippling for the plumpshe lookedas slender as ever. The dark green wool was becoming to the warmth of hercomplexion and the richness of her hair, and the fichu took away from thesevereness of the dress, making it a little more feminine.

rutland place

She didnot wish Caroline, of all people, to think she had become dowdy.