“And...?”
“Well, I should not like to be a gossip, as you all know.”
Everyone rolled their eyes and stifled their groans of disbelief.
Grace ignored their mocking. She said, “Lady Purfleet is one of those women who are impeccable in every outward way. She listens carefully to everyone and takes no sides. She is not allied to one family or another. She plays no part in the petty little squabbles that break out in society from time to time. She is utterly above reproach. Can’t you see how that is a problem?”
“No, not really,” Adelia said, laughing. “She sounds like a perfect model of womanhood. Are you, in fact, jealous of her?”
Grace looked genuinely disgusted with that suggestion. “No. Absolutely not. I am deeply suspicious of her. She is a woman who watches and learns; she knows everything. What does she do with that knowledge?”
“She doesn’t have to do anything with it, and that is to her credit,” Adelia said.
Grace shook her head. “No. She is a snake and we are yet to be bitten on the heel by her, but mark my words, when she strikes, we shall all suffer.”
Adelia felt a pressure on her foot and realised that Theodore was pressing on her shoe. She looked across at him and he was staring at her intently and with a look of concern on his face. She realised that he was worried about his mother’s irrational hatred and it was true that the elderly lady was becoming increasingly worked up. Adelia gave him a small nod, and changed the subject entirely.
BUT IT DIDN’T QUENCH her desire to attend the salon the following day and she reminded Charlotte before they retired for bed that night. Charlotte still did not seem happy about it but she was also tired and distracted, her attention wandering as she looked past her mother while she was speaking, and fiddled with the trim on her dress.
“Very well,” she said. “I shall send word to the host for them to expect another guest. I am sure that it will be fine.” She hesitated, allowing for Adelia to jump in with a polite “oh, no, it doesn’t matter.” But Adelia refused to speak. Charlotte sighed. “Good night, mama.” She walked off before Adelia could lean in for a kiss, and she didn’t head for the main stairs but instead went towards the back of the house on the ground floor where the kitchens and servants’ rooms were located.
No doubt there were constant demands on her time as mistress of the house and she had a few orders to issue for the coming day, Adelia thought, as she headed up the stairs. Theodore had gone up before her and the house was very quiet and quite dark. Only a few lamps remained lit.
Something made her stop.
She kept very still. She was halfway up the staircase but there was only one gas lamp that was at the very top, all the others having been extinguished by the butler on his rounds. There should have been another lit at the bottom in the hallway but it had gone out. It occurred to her that the lamp needed attending to, in case the gas was still turned on. If that were the case, the poisonous gas would steadily escape and fill the room, with potentially disastrous consequences. She turned slowly and looked back down into the gloom. With her vision impaired, her other senses worked overtime and she paid particular attention to what she could hear.
She heard the click of a door that echoed in the otherwise silent house.
She crept back down. If Charlotte had gone to give instructions to any servants who still remained awake, then she ought to hear voices but instead all she could hear was the very curious absence of noise, which was as telling as any sound.
She was wearing soft-soled indoor slippers and the cold struck at her feet as she slid over the tiled floor. She got to the kitchen which was unlit and welcomingly warm. No servants slept in here as the top floor of the house had a number of handy attic rooms, and Charlotte also employed more daily help that came in from outside. Adelia could not see her daughter but she felt a cold wind on her cheek and she realised that Charlotte had passed right through the room and was now standing at the back door.
Adelia tiptoed further in. Charlotte was looking up and down, leaning out of the open door, as if waiting for someone.
Her right hand was on the door frame. She raised her left arm and waved it, and Adelia heard rapid footsteps approach.
“You’re late,” Charlotte said in an urgent whisper.
The reply was muffled as the speaker stayed away from the door and out of sight of Adelia, their words blocked by the wall. Adelia tried to inch a little closer, holding her skirts up in the air and away from her legs, but she was dressed for dinner not creeping around a dark kitchen and she could hear the satin of her own dress rustle. She stopped and strained her ears.
“Well, never mind that now. It’s about tomorrow. You can’t come any more.”
Still Adelia could not hear the reply. She took a few tentative steps around the large table in the centre of the room.
Charlotte spoke again, “No, I know that! But my mother has decided she’ll be there so you cannot be...”
Adelia had forgotten about the wooden slatted boards that the kitchen maids stood on while preparing food. It raised them off the cold tiled floor and eased the pains in their joints. Her foot collided with the board that ought to have been under the table and it skittered noisily across the floor, almost hiding her own stifled cry of pain and alarm. As all stealth was now lost, Adelia leaped forward towards the doorway.
Charlotte spun around and screamed.
“Charlotte!” Adelia cried out though she wasn’t even sure if she was giving
