“Because you think he’s clever?”
“Yes.” He sighed. “Thank you, Charlotte. Yes, I suppose Pitt has looked at us closely enough. Perhaps, if it were one of us, he would be closing in now. You don’t think he is, do you?” The sharp fear was back again.
This time she lied, as if to protect a child.
“No.”
He let out his breath again, and sat down. “How can Sarah think I could have done it? Surely anyone who knew me at all. .? You said she loves me, how could you love anyone and think that of him?”
“Because being in love with someone is not the same as knowing them,” she said, hearing her words harshly and clearly in her head. Would they mean as much to him as they did now to her?
“She doesn’t really love me,” he said slowly, “or she would not have thought it.”
“You thought it of yourself!”
“That’s different. I know myself. But I never thought ill of her, not in any way.”
“Then you don’t know her, any more than she knows you.” Charlotte meant it, although she was discovering her thoughts even as she spoke them.
“What do you mean?”
“We all have faults-Sarah, too. If you expect her to be perfect that is a wrong you’re doing her that is as great as the wrong she is doing you.”
“I don’t understand you, Charlotte.” He frowned. “Sometimes I think you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“No,” she agreed. It hurt, because she realized he really did not understand. “No, I thought you might not.” She made up her mind quickly, from a deep feeling. “I’m going up to see if Sarah is all right.”
“Sarah?” He was surprised.
She went to the door and turned.
“Yes.”
He was looking at her with a pucker between his brows. She ached inside, all down her throat and in her stomach. She wanted to put her arms round him, to comfort away the fear she knew was in him, but her love for him was quite different. It was no longer mysterious, romantic, blood-quickening. She felt older than he, and stronger.
“Charlotte-”
She knew what he wanted to say, he wanted to say “Help me,” and he did not know how.
She smiled. “I’m not going to tell her anything. And every man near Cater Street who has thought at all, must have the same fears as you do.”
He let out his breath and tried to smile. “Thank you, Charlotte. Good night.”
“Good night.”
Upstairs she found Sarah sitting in her bed, staring at the wall, a book lying open, face down on the covers.
“How are you?” Charlotte asked.
“What do you want?” Sarah looked at her coolly.
“Can I get anything for you? A hot drink?”
“No, thank you. What’s the matter? Won’t Dominic talk to you?” There was a bitter edge to Sarah’s voice, and Charlotte thought she was near tears.
She sat down on the edge of the bed. “Yes, he talked to me for quite a while.”
“Oh,” Sarah affected disinterest. “About what?”
“The hangman.”
“How gruesome. It will make you dream.”
Charlotte put out her hand and took Sarah’s. “Sarah, you shouldn’t let him think you suspect him-”
“Has he been complaining to you, crying on your shoulder?”
“It’s easy to see what you’re thinking! Sarah!” She held onto her more tightly as Sarah tried to pull away. “Even if you think so, can’t you have the kindness, or the sense, not to let him know it? If he were guilty, there would be time enough to know it when it couldn’t be denied. If he’s innocent and you suspect him wrongly, you’ll have built a gap between you that will be difficult to bridge later.”
The tears brimmed over Sarah’s eyes. “I don’t suspect him,” she said gulping. “Not really. It just crossed my mind for a moment. Is that so hard to understand? I couldn’t help it! He’s been out so much lately. He hardly takes notice of me anymore. Is he in love with you, Charlotte; tell me honestly? I think I would rather know now.”
“No,” Charlotte shook her head with a smile. “I used to be in love with him, which is what Emily meant. But he never even saw me.”
The tears were running down Sarah’s face. “Oh, Charlotte, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t want you to.” Charlotte made herself smile. Her own feelings were suddenly very clear. She was desperately, painfully sorry for Sarah because Sarah had wounded Dominic and irreparably hurt herself; and even now Sarah did not understand how, or seem able to undo it.
Sarah was staring at her, pity showing through the tears.
“Oh, it’s all right,” Charlotte said easily. “I’m not in love with him anymore. I like him very much, but I’m not in love.”
Sarah smiled and sniffed. “Your wretched policeman?”
Charlotte was shocked. “Good heavens, no!”
Sarah’s smile widened.
Charlotte leaned forward a little. More than anything on earth she wanted to help and protect Sarah, to take things back to the way they used to be.
“Sarah, tell Dominic you don’t suspect him really, that it was just a momentary thought of how awful it would be. Even lie, if you have to. But don’t let him go on thinking-”
“He won’t come to me.”
“Then go to him!”
“No.” Sarah shook her head.
“Sarah!”
“I can’t.”
There was nothing else Charlotte could say. Silently she touched Sarah’s hair, pushing a strand out of her eyes, then stood up and walked away slowly. She was too tired, too shaken with the upheaval in her life, to feel anything more tonight. Tomorrow the fear and the pity would all come back.
Chapter Eleven
Sarah thought about the things that Charlotte had said, but she could not bring herself to go to Dominic. He had been so cold lately, so unapproachable, she was afraid of another rebuff. And if he really were hurt, he could so easily come to her.
Or was there something more than hurt? Could it be quite a different guilt he felt? She remembered small, smug looks on Lily’s face, and laughter. At the time she had refused to understand, although half her mind knew women too well for complete ignorance. She had thought it was all over, and for her own peace of mind had learned to forget it. Now it was resurrected in all its ugly embarrassment. Was it Lily’s death that had reminded him?
But if he were to ask, even once, she would immediately tell him in such a way that he could not help believing her, that she had not really thought him capable of murder. It had been only a passing, absurd fear, which reason had dismissed as soon as she recognized it.
But he did not come, and she did not speak of it to him.
One thing it had altered was the way Sarah felt about Charlotte. Her admission explained so many things. Now she understood why Charlotte had had so little interest in all the eligible young men Mama had contrived to introduce to her. In the new light of knowledge she remembered odd little incidents, words, looks, tempers, and unexplained tears. She could not comprehend how Charlotte had kept it from her-for her complete insensitivity, if not merely for marrying Dominic. How could she have been so blind? She had taken her own happiness for granted,
