people already know you. You said as much yourself. But I had better have some reasonable excuse to justify traveling with you, or we shall cause an even greater scandal. May I be your sister, for the occasion?”

“We don’t look anything alike,” he said with a slightly twisted smile.

“Half sister then, if anybody asks,” she amended.

“Of course you are right,” he conceded. His voice was tired, the banter gone from it. He knew it was ridiculous to deny the only help he had been offered. “But you will listen to me, and do as I tell you. I cannot afford to spend my time or energy looking after you or worrying about you. Is that understood, and agreed?”

“Certainly. I want to succeed, not prove some kind of point.”

“Then I shall be here at eight o’clock in the morning the day after tomorrow to take us to the train, and then the boat. Bring clothes suitable for walking, for discreet calling upon people in the city, and at least one gown for evening, should we go to the theater. Dublin is famous for its theaters. No more than one case.”

“I shall be waiting.”

He hesitated a moment, then let out his breath. “Thank you.”

After he had gone Charlotte went back to the front parlor. A moment later there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she said, expecting to thank Mrs. Waterman for waiting up, tell her that nothing more was needed and she should go to bed.

Mrs. Waterman came in and closed the door behind her. Her back was ramrod-stiff, her face almost colorless and set in lines of rigid disapproval. One might imagine she had found a blocked drain.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Pitt,” she said before Charlotte had had time to say anything. “I cannot remain here. My conscience would not allow it.”

Charlotte was stunned. “What are you talking about? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Mrs. Waterman sniffed. “Well, I daresay I have my faults. We all do. But I’ve always been respectable, Mrs. Pitt. There wasn’t ever anyone who could say different.”

“Nobody has.” Charlotte was still mystified. “Nobody has even suggested such a thing.”

“And I mean to keep it like that, if you understand me.” Mrs. Waterman stood, if possible, even straighter. “So I’ll be going in the morning. I’m sorry, about that. I daresay it’ll be difficult for you, which I regret. But I’ve got my name to think of.”

“What are you talking about?” Charlotte was growing annoyed. Mrs. Waterman was not particularly agreeable, but they might learn to accept each other. She was certainly hardworking, diligent, and totally reliable—at least she had been so far. With Pitt away for an indefinite period of time, and now this disastrous situation with Narraway, the last thing Charlotte needed was a domestic crisis. She had to go to Ireland. If Pitt were without a job they would lose the house and in quite a short time possibly find themselves scraping for food. He might have to learn a new trade entirely, and that would be difficult for a man in his forties. Even with all the effort he would put into it, it would still take time. It was barely beginning to sink in. How on earth would Daniel and Jemima take the news? No more pretty dresses, no more parties, no more hoping for a career for Daniel. He would be fortunate not to start work at anything he could find, in a year or two. Even Jemima could become somebody’s kitchen maid.

“You can’t leave,” Charlotte said, her tone angry now. “If you do, then I cannot give you a letter of character.” That was a severe threat. Without a recommendation no servant could easily find another position. Their reason for leaving would be unexplained, and most people would put the unkindest interpretation on it.

Mrs. Waterman was unmoving. “I’m not sure, ma’am, if your recommendation would be of any service to me, as to character, that is—if you understand me.”

“No, I do not understand you,” she said tartly.

“I don’t like having to say this,” Mrs. Waterman replied, her face wrinkling with distaste. “But I’ve never before worked in a household where the gentleman goes away unexpectedly, without any luggage at all, and the lady receives other gentlemen, alone and after dark. It isn’t decent, ma’am, and that’s all there is to it. I can’t stay in a house with ‘goings-on.’ ”

Charlotte was astounded. “ ‘Goings-on’! Mrs. Waterman, Mr. Pitt was called away on urgent business, without time to come home or pack any luggage. He went to France in an emergency, the nature of which is not your business. Mr. Narraway is his superior in the government, and he came to tell me, so I would not be concerned. If you see it as something else, then the ‘goings-on,’ as you put it, are entirely in your own imagination.”

“If you say so, ma’am,” Mrs. Waterman answered, her eyes unwavering. “And what did he come for tonight? Did Mr. Pitt give a message to him, and not to you, his lawful wedded wife—I assume?”

Charlotte wanted to slap her. With a great effort she forced herself to become calm.

“Mrs. Waterman, Mr. Narraway came to tell me further news concerning my husband’s work. If you choose to think ill of it, or of me, then you will do so whatever the truth is, because that is who you are …”

Now it was Mrs. Waterman’s face that flamed. “Don’t you try to cover it with nice words and high-and-mighty airs,” she said bitterly. “I know a man with a fancy for a woman when I see one.”

It was on the edge of Charlotte’s tongue to ask sarcastically when Mrs. Waterman had ever seen one, but it was perhaps an unnecessarily cruel thought. Mrs. Waterman was exactly what her grandmama used to call a vinegar virgin, despite the courteous Mrs. in front of her name.

“You have an overheated and somewhat vulgar imagination, Mrs. Waterman,” she said coldly. “I cannot afford to have such a person in my household, so it might be best for both of us if you pack your belongings and leave first thing in the morning. I shall make breakfast myself, and then see if my sister can lend me one of her staff until I find someone satisfactory of my own. Her husband is a member of Parliament, and she keeps a large establishment. I shall see you to say good-bye in the morning.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mrs. Waterman turned for the door.

“Mrs. Waterman!”

“Yes, ma’am?”

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