'I expect you have mislaid it,' she said with a smile she hoped did not look as artificial as it was. 'It may be pinned to some garment you had forgotten you had worn.'
'I do hope so,' Mina said, shaking her head. Her dark blue eyes were enormous in her fragile face. 'It is most distressing to have to say so, but, my dear, there have been a number of things-taken-in the Place recently!' She stopped and looked from one to another of them.
'Taken?' Edward said incredulously. 'What on earth do you mean?'
'Taken,' Mina repeated. 'I hate to use a worse word.'
'You mean stolen?' Grandmama demanded. 'I told you! If you don't train your servants properly and run a house as it ought to be run, then this is the sort of thing you can expect! Sow a wind, and reap a whirlwind! I've always said so.'
'It wasn't you who said that, Grandmama,' Charlotte said tartly. 'It's from the Book of Hosea, in the Bible.'
'Don't be impertinent!' Grandmama snapped.
Edward seemed quite unaware of Caroline's distress or of Charlotte's attempt to close the subject.
'Did you say there have been other thefts?' he asked Mina.
'I'm afraid so. It's perfectly dreadful! Poor Ambrosine lost a most excellent gold chain, from her very own dressing table.'
'Servants!' Grandmama snorted. 'Whole class of servants is going down. I've said so for years! Nothing's been the same since Prince Albert died in '61. He was a man with standards! No wonder the poor Queen is in perpetual mourning-so should I be if my son behaved like the Prince of Wales.' She snorted in outrage. 'The whole country's heard of his goings-on!'
'And my husband lost an ornamental snuffbox with a crystal lid from our mantelshelf,' Mina continued, ignoring her completely. 'And poor Eloise Lagarde lost a silver buttonhook from her reticule, unfortunate child.' She looked at the old lady candidly. 'I cannot imagine any servant who had opportunity to take all those articles. I mean, how would someone else's ser shy;vant be in my house?'
Grandmama's eyebrows went up and her nostrils flared. 'Then obviously we must have more than one dishonest servant in Rutland Place! The whole world is degenerating at a disastrous speed. Heaven only knows where it will all end.'
'It will probably end with everyone finding what they have misplaced!' Charlotte said, standing up. 'It has been most delightful meeting you, Mrs. Spencer-Brown. I do hope we shall have the opportunity to speak again, but since the afternoon is turning somewhat unpleasant, and it does indeed look like rain, I'm sure you will excuse me if I seek to return to my home before I am drenched.'
Without waiting for a reply, she bent and gave her grandmother a peck on the cheek, her father a swift touch, and extended her arm to Caroline as if inviting her to accompany her at least as far as the door.
After rather startled murmurs of goodbye, Caroline took advan shy;tage of the opportunity. She was almost on Charlotte's heels as they came into the hall, and she shut the withdrawing room door behind them.
'Maddock!' Caroline called sharply. 'Maddock!' He appeared. 'Yes, ma'am. Shall I call the carriage for Miss Charlotte?'
'Yes, please. And, Maddock, have Polly close the curtains, please.'
'It is still two hours at least until dark, ma'am,' he said with slight surprise.
'Don't argue with me, Maddock!' Caroline took a breath and steadied herself. 'The wind is rising and it will rain quite shortly. I prefer not to watch it. Please do as you are asked!'
'Yes, ma'am.' He withdrew obediently, stiff-shouldered in correct and spotless black.
Charlotte turned to her. 'Mama, why does this locket matter so much? And why do you want the curtains drawn at four o'clock in the afternoon?'
Caroline stared at her as if frozen.
Charlotte put out her hands and touched her mother gently. Caroline's body was stiff under the fine material of her dress.
She let out her breath slowly and stared past Charlotte toward the light coming through the hall windows,
'I'm not really sure-it sounds so hysterical-but I feel as if there were someone watching me-and- waiting!'
Charlotte did not know what to say. Caroline was right; it did sound hysterical.
'I know it's foolish,' Caroline went on, hunching her shoul shy;ders and shivering a little although the hall was perfectly warm, 'but I can't get rid of the sensation. I've told myself not to be so fanciful, that everyone else has far too much to do to be inter shy;ested in my comings and goings. But it's still there-the feeling that there are eyes, and a mind-a mind that knows-and waits!'
The idea was horrible.
'Waits for what?' Charlotte asked, trying to bring some rationality into it.
'I don't know! A mistake? Waits for me to make a mistake.'
Charlotte felt a chill of real fear. This was unhealthy, even morbid. It carried a faint whiff of madness. If her mother was as overwrought as this, why on earth had Edward not noticed and called both her and Emily to do something? Even called a doctor! Certainly Grandmama was always watching and criticizing, but then she had done that for as long as Charlotte could remember, and no one had ever really minded before. She did it to everyone: to know better than anybody else was part of her satisfaction in living on when so many of her friends were dead.
Caroline shook herself. 'I believe you'll get home before the rain. In fact, I don't think it's going to rain after all.'
It was of total indifference to Charlotte whether it rained or even snowed.
'Do you know who took the locket and the other things, Mama?'
'No, of course not! What on earth makes you ask such a thing? I should hardly have asked you to help me in the matter if I already knew!'
'Why not? You might have wished to get it back without bringing in the police if it were a friend, or even a good servant of someone else.'
'Well, I told you, Charlotte, I have no idea!' Suddenly Charlotte had a glimpse of the obvious, and wondered why she had been so blind as not to have seen it before.
'What is in the locket, Mama?' 'In'-Caroline swallowed-'in the locket?' 'Yes, Mama, what is in it?' She almost wished she had not asked. Caroline's face was white, and she stood perfectly still for several seconds. Outside, the carriage wheels rattled on the road and a horse snorted.
'A photograph,' Caroline said at last. Charlotte looked at her. She heard her own voice almost against her will, sounding disembodied and remote. 'Of whom?'
'A-friend. Just a friend. But I would rather it was not found by anyone else. They might misunderstand my feelings and cause me embarrassment, and even-' She stopped, and her eyes came up to meet Charlotte's at last.
'Even what, Mama?' Charlotte asked very softly. Maddock was back in the hall, standing with her cloak, and the footman was at the door.
'Even perhaps-a little pressure,' Caroline whispered. Charlotte was used to ugly words, and ugly thoughts. Crime was part of Pitt's life, and she was too close to him not to share much of his pain, confusion, or pity. 'You mean blackmail?' she asked. Caroline winced. 'I suppose I do.'
Charlotte put her arms around her and held her tightly for a moment. To Maddock and the footman it must have looked like an affectionate goodbye.
'Then we must find out where it is,' she said almost under her breath. 'And see that it does no harm. Don't worry! We'll manage.' Then she raised her tone to normal and stepped back.
'Thank you for a most pleasant afternoon, Mama. I hope I shall come again sooner next time.'
Caroline blinked and sniffed in a manner she would have abhorred, had she been aware of it.
'Thank you, my dear,' she said. 'Thank you so much.'
