“Oh no, ma’am,” Dora was still there. “It’s nothing to do with the boy. I dealt with that all right-threatened to set the dog on him, I did, after all the meat, you see!”
“We don’t have a dog, Dora!”
“I know that, ma’am, but he don’t.”
“You shouldn’t tell lies, Dora,” but there was no criticism in her voice. She considered it a fair retaliation. Her words were habit, those she thought she ought to say, certainly what Edward would expect of her. “Well, what is it then, Dora?”
Dora’s face bunched into a howl again as she remembered.
“Oh, ma’am! The murderer’s at it again! We’ll all be strangled if we set foot outside the door!”
Caroline’s immediate reaction was to deny it, to keep Dora from hysterics.
“Nonsense! You’re perfectly safe as long as you don’t go hanging around by yourself after dark, and no decent girl does that anyway! There’s nothing for you to be afraid of.”
“But ma’am, he tried it again!” Dora wailed. “He attacked Mrs. Waterman’s Daisy! Right out in the daylight, he did!”
Caroline felt a shiver of fear.
“What are you talking about, Dora? Are you just repeating a lot of silly gossip? Where did you hear that, from some errand boy?”
“No, ma’am. Mrs. Waterman’s Jenks told Maddock.”
“Really? Perhaps you had better send Maddock to me.”
“Now, ma’am?” Dora stood transfixed.
“Yes, Dora, right now.”
Dora scuttled out and Caroline tried to compose herself to arrange the rest of the flowers. The result was unsatisfying. Maddock knocked at the door.
“Yes, Maddock,” she said coldly. “Maddock, Dora tells me she was present when you and-Jenks, is it? — were talking about the two girls who were killed recently, and a new attack?”
Maddock stood stiffly, surprise showing on his usual poker face.
“No, ma’am! Mr. Jenks came round to bring a bottle of port from Mr. Waterman for Mr. Ellison. While he was in my pantry he told me I should keep our girls in, even in daylight, not send them on errands alone because their Daisy, or whatever her name is, had been attacked in the street the other day. Apparently she is a well-built girl, and not the fainting kind. She had a jar of pickles of some kind in her hand, and hit him over the head with it. She wasn’t hurt, and seemed quite in control of herself until she got home. Then, of course, she realized what could have happened to her, and burst into tears.”
“I see.” She was glad she had not criticized him too obviously, allowing herself room to retreat. “And where was Dora?”
“I can only presume, ma’am, that she was in the passage outside the pantry door.”
“Thank you, Maddock,” she said thoughtfully. “Perhaps you had better not send the girls on any errands, as Jenks suggests-at least for the time being. I wish you had told me this earlier.”
“I told the master, ma’am. He said not to worry you with it.”
“Oh.” Her mind raced over reasons why Edward should have done such a thing. What if she, or one of the girls, had gone out alone? Did he think only servants were attacked? What about Chloe Abernathy?
“Thank you, Maddock. You had better see if you can calm Dora a little; and suggest she stop listening at doors, while you are about it!”
“Yes, ma’am, certainly.” And he turned on his heel and went out, closing the door silently behind him.
She had intended this afternoon to go and see Martha Prebble. Without really understanding why, she always felt rather sorry for the woman, although she did not like her greatly. Perhaps it was because she disliked the vicar-which was quite stupid! He was doubtless a very good man, and probably suited Martha as well as most husbands suit their wives. One could not sensibly expect a vicar to be romantic; if he was honest, sober, well- mannered, and respected in the community, that was a great deal. To demand more was unreasonable, and Martha was eminently reasonable; even if she had not been as a girl, she would be by now!
Which brought Emily to her mind. It was all very well for her to accept occasional social invitations from Lord Ashworth, but one or two things Emily had said lately led Caroline to believe that she entertained ideas of a more permanent relationship. For Emily’s own sake she must be disabused of such romantic follies. Otherwise she would be quite seriously hurt later on, not only by the dissolution of her ambitions in that direction, but by the casting of very definite disadvantage on any future designs. People would be bound to think the worst. Other young men, less aristocratic, but far more practically within Emily’s reach, might well be put off-or their mothers would be, which was more to the point.
In view of Maddock’s warning it would be better not to go even as far as the vicar’s alone. She would take Emily with her, giving them an opportunity to talk privately. It was a delightful afternoon for a walk. Far better than taking Charlotte, which had also crossed her mind. Charlotte disliked the vicar and seemed unable or unwilling to conceal it. That was another thing; somehow to school Charlotte in the art of dissembling, masking her feelings. Apart from anything else, those feelings were far too violent to be becoming in a lady. She loved Charlotte dearly; she was the warmest, the quickest to sympathize, and had by far the sharpest sense of humour among her daughters, but she was impossibly forthright. There were times when Caroline despaired of her! If only she could learn a little tact before she ruined herself socially with some totally unforgivable gaffe. If only she would think before she spoke!
What kind of man would take her as she was? She was practically a social liability at times!
She surveyed the vase of flowers with exasperation, and decided she was in that frame of mind when further effort would only make the arrangement worse. Better find Emily and advise her that they were going to the vicar’s. Charlotte at least would be pleased!
The walk to Cater Street was a pleasure, full of sunlight and wind and the noise of leaves. They set out shortly after three, Emily a little reluctantly, but accepting it with good enough grace.
Caroline thought she had better approach the subject obliquely.
“Maddock tells me there has been another girl attacked in the street,” she began in a businesslike manner. Better get this over with also.
“Oh.” Emily seemed interested, but not as frightened as Caroline would have expected. “I hope she wasn’t seriously hurt?”
“Apparently not, but that may be a matter of good fortune rather than lack of intent on her attacker’s part,” Caroline replied sharply. She must frighten Emily enough to make sure she took no risks. A risk was so easy; an injury could be so permanent.
“Who was it? Anyone we know?”
“A servant of Mrs. Waterman’s. But that is hardly the point! You must not go out alone, any of you, until this lunatic is apprehended by the police.”
“But that might be forever!” Emily protested. “I’d planned to call on Miss Decker on Friday afternoon-”
“You don’t even like Miss Decker!”
“Liking her has nothing to do with it, Mama; she knows people whom I wish to know, or at least to be acquainted with.”
“Then you’ll have to take Charlotte or Sarah. You are not to go alone, Emily.”
Emily’s face hardened.
“Sarah won’t come. She’s going to Madame Tussaud’s with Dominic. It’s taken her a month to persuade him.”
“Then take Charlotte.”
“Mama!” Emily said with withering disgust. “You know as well as I do, Charlotte will ruin it. Even if she doesn’t actually say anything, her face will give her away.”
“I take it she doesn’t care for Miss Decker either?” Caroline said a trifle drily.
“Charlotte has no sense of what is practical.”
It was the perfect opening. Caroline took it immediately. “It seems to me that you have very little idea yourself, my darling. Your pursuit of Lord Ashworth is hardly destined for any permanent success, and you are seeing far too much of him for a temporary admiration. You will draw an unwelcome attention to yourself, you will find that you are remembered as Ashworth’s. . ” she hesitated, trying to find the right word.
