“I don’t know,” Vespasia replied. “But once we have dispensed with the trivia of courtesy, no doubt you will tell me.”
Charlotte hesitated only a moment. “Thomas has a case,” she admitted, “which requires that we both spend several days in a country house.” She did not specify which one, not because she did not trust Vespasia absolutely, but she was never totally sure if the telephone operator could overhear any of the conversation.
“I see,” Vespasia replied. “And you would like a little counsel on your wardrobe?”
“I am afraid I would like a great deal!”
“Very well, my dear. I shall consider the matter carefully, and you may call upon me tomorrow morning at eleven.”
“Thank you, Aunt Vespasia,” Charlotte said sincerely.
“Not at all. I am finding society very tedious at the moment. Everything seems to be repeating itself. People are making the same disastrous alliances they always have, and observers are making the same pointless and unhelpful observations about it. I should welcome a diversion.”
“I shall be there,” Charlotte promised cheerfully.
Charlotte then telephoned her mother, who was delighted to have the children. She hung up the receiver and went upstairs briskly to start sorting out petticoats, stockings, camisoles—and of course there was the whole matter of what Pitt would take. He must look appropriate as well. That was most important.
“Gracie!” she called as soon as she reached the landing. “Grade!” She would have to explain at least the travel plans to Gracie, and what would be expected of her, if not yet anything of the reason. There were hundreds of things to be done. The children’s clothes must be packed, and the house be made ready to leave.
“Yes, ma’am?” Gracie appeared from the playroom, where she had been tidying up after the children had gone to bed. She was twenty now, but still looked like a child herself. She was so small Charlotte had to take up her dresses, but at least she had filled out a little bit and did not look so much like the waif she had been when she first came to them at thirteen. But the biggest change in her was her self-assurance. She could now read and write, and she had actually been of marked and specific assistance in more than one case. She had the most interesting master and mistress on Keppel Street, possibly in Bloomsbury, and she was satisfyingly aware of it.
“Gracie, we are all going away this coming weekend. Daniel and Jemima will go to my mother’s in Cater Street. Mrs. Standish will feed the cats. The rest of us are going to the country. You are coming with me as my maid.”
Grade’s eyes widened. This was a role she was untrained for. It was socially several stations above household, and she had begun life as a maid of all work. She had never lacked courage, but this was daunting, to say the least.
“I shall tell you what to do,” Charlotte assured her. Then, seeing the alarm in her eyes, “It is one of the master’s cases,” she added.
“Oh.” Gracie stood quite still. “I see. Then we in’t got no choice, ’as we!” She lifted her chin a trifle. “We’d best be gettin’ ready, then.”
2
T
Gracie had never ridden in a carriage before. Normally she used the public omnibus if she needed to travel at all, and that was extremely rarely. She had never been at such a speed before, except once when she had, to her terror and amazement, ridden in the underground train. That was an experience never to be forgotten, and if she had any say in the matter, never to be repeated either. And it did not count, because it was through a black tunnel, and you could not see where you were going. To sit in a comfortably upholstered seat, with springs, in a carriage with four perfectly matched horses, and fly along the roads into the countryside was quite marvelous.
She did not look at Tellman, but she was acutely conscious of him sitting bolt upright beside her, exuding disapproval. She had never seen such a sour face on anybody before. From the look of him you would have thought he was in a house with bad drains. He never said a word from one milestone to the next.
They swept up the long, curving drive under the elm trees and stopped in front of the great entrance with its magnificent front door, the smooth, classical pillars and the flight of steps. The footman jumped down and opened the door, and another footman appeared from the house to assist.
Even Gracie, a servant, was given an arm to balance her as she alighted. Perhaps they thought she would be likely to fall without it, and they might be right. She had forgotten how far down it was to the ground.
“Thank you,” she said primly, and straightened her dress. She was a lady’s maid now, and should be treated as such. She should accept such courtesies as her due … for the weekend.
Tellman grunted as he got out, regarding the liveried footman with conceded disgust. However, Gracie noticed he could not help looking up at the house, and in spite of his best intentions, there was admiration in his eyes for the sheer magnificence of the Georgian windows, row upon row, and the smooth ashlar stone broken by the scarlet creeper which climbed it.
Charlotte and Pitt were welcomed inside.
Tellman went as if to follow Pitt.
“Servant’s entrance, Mr. Tellman,” Gracie whispered.
Tellman froze. A tide of color swept up his cheeks. At first Gracie thought it was embarrassment, then she realized from his rigid shoulders and clenched fists that it was rage.
“Don’t show up the master by making a fool o’ yerself, goin’ w’ere it in’t your place!” she said under her breath.
“He isn’t my master!” Tellman retorted. “He’s a policeman, just like any of us.” But he turned on his heel and
