regarding the silver with distaste. “That old devil sent me out in a rush like the house was on fire. Had to go. She said it was urgent, life an’ death, as you might say.”
“Sent you?” she said with her eyebrows raised. “Where?”
“To fetch Mr. Fielding, of course,” he replied. “And he came home hotfoot, and threw out that American gentleman that’s been here so often. Then went right back out hisself.”
“Pity.” She shook her head. “He was very nice spoken, but I s’pose he was here a bit much, like. Anyway, I’ve got no time to stand here gossiping, and neither have you. You’d best get those knives done now, and quick, or Cook’ll be after you. You’re all behind!”
“So would you be, if you’d been all the way to the theatre an’ back!” he retorted, picking up the knives and going out, leaving the door open.
Caroline stood still, her mind racing. Joshua had not come home by chance. The old lady had sent for him, knowing Samuel was there. Why? And what had she said?
What else had she done? Had she somehow caused Samuel to come at five in the afternoon, uninvited? And then he had behaved as if Caroline had summoned him.
As she stood in the hall, her thoughts racing, there was a certainty growing in her mind which she did all she could to suffocate, drive out of existence. She must learn the truth, and that must be from Samuel himself.
If only Charlotte or Emily were there, she would take one of them with her. As it was she would have to go alone. She dreaded it so much it must be done immediately, before she could think about it and lose her courage. Joshua would never understand. This might make it all even worse. He would think she was chasing after Samuel, after he had forbidden him the house.
And what would Samuel himself think? That made her cold to the pit of her stomach.
Yet to leave it as it was would be worse. There was no point in asking the old lady. She would never tell the truth.
She put on her hat and coat, informed the parlormaid she was going out, and left.
The journey was terrible. Half a dozen times she nearly lost her nerve and told the hansom driver to take her home again, but the knowledge of the days and weeks ahead of loneliness, of never being able to understand or tell Joshua the truth, was enough to spur her on.
She arrived at the hotel where Samuel was staying and went to the desk. She asked for him and was told he was in the lounge. She allowed the bellboy to conduct her through.
Samuel was reading the newspaper. There were three other men in the room, all equally absorbed. She forced herself to be calm and walked over to him.
He glanced up, then recognized her, and the color burned up his face.
It was too late to run, as she would have. For a moment she could hardly breathe.
He stood up. “Good morning, Mrs. Fielding,” he said stiffly.
She could feel her face flame. “Good morning, Mr. Ellison. I am sorry to intrude on your time in this way, most particularly after our last parting.” That was an extraordinary understatement of events. “But there are too many things that I do not understand, and I fear my mother-in-law may have been meddling with the intention of causing trouble. I do not yet know why.”
He looked confused and more than a little embarrassed. “I. . if. . of course. If you believe it will help?”
“I do.” She sat down without waiting to be invited, smoothing her skirt self-consciously. She was intensely aware of his presence within a few feet of her. She wondered if he felt as aware of her.
“I’m sorry.” He apologized for the oversight in his manners, then sat down sharply himself.
This was dreadful.
They both started to speak at once, she to ask why he had called. She never knew what he was about to say.
They both stopped.
“I’m sorry. .” He colored deeply, but he did not move his eyes from her face.
She looked down at her hands. “Why did you come yesterday afternoon? I had the impression you thought I expected you.”
“You had the impression?” His voice rose in disbelief.
“Yes.” She avoided looking up. “Was I mistaken?”
She heard the crinkle of paper and saw it in front of her. It was held in his hand, pushed forward.
She read it with horror that crawled over her skin and left her cold. She found her voice hoarse when she tried to speak.
“I didn’t write that!” Dear God, he had to believe her. And yet her first thought was to pray that Joshua had not seen it. He would be so hurt, so. . betrayed. “I did not write that!” She looked up and met his eyes. She was angry now, not for herself but for Joshua. “It was my mother-in-law who sent the manservant for Joshua to come home. I believe it was she who wrote the note to you as well.” She kept it in her hand and stood up. “I am very sorry. Please believe me, I am! I like you, I enjoy your company, but whatever I had felt, I would never have written a letter like that. I apologize that you were misled by a member of my family, and for the embarrassment it has occasioned. But I am about to go home and address the matter.” She did not ask if she could keep the letter. She had no intention whatsoever of giving it up. “Thank you for seeing me,” she added. She was about to say something about a good day, and abandoned it as absurd. She glanced at him once again, then turned and left.
Mariah was sitting alone in the withdrawing room telling herself that the danger had passed, and she had only done what was necessary, when the door opened and Caroline came in. She looked very pale and there were shadows around her eyes. The pain in her face needed no explanation.
At that moment the old lady would have given all she possessed to have undone yesterday, but she knew nothing could ever be undone. A last thought flickered out somewhere inside her, and the darkness was complete.
“We are not at home,” Caroline said to the maid, somewhere behind her. “Not to anyone. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mrs. Fielding, not to anyone.”
“Good. Now, do not interrupt us.”
“No, ma’am.”
Caroline closed the door and faced the old lady.
“Now!” she said grimly. “You are going to explain this!” She held out the slightly crumpled letter in her hand.
The old lady stared up at her. There was no yielding in her face, her eyes did not waver, no softening.
“Explain?” she repeated through dry lips.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” Caroline said grimly. “Samuel received this letter inviting him to call yesterday. It is a highly suggestive letter, and he came expecting. . Heaven knows what! Then you sent Joseph to the theatre to fetch Joshua so he would arrive and misread the situation.” She held up the letter. “Someone used my name. That could only have been you.”
Denial sprang to the old lady’s lips, and she saw in Caroline’s face that she would not be believed. There was a kind of finality in the moment. A black void of hate opened up in front of her. There was nothing left to lose now. The pen was not where she had expected it. It was not the past after all, it was the present, the loss now. It was the knowledge of having destroyed it all herself.
“I am waiting!” Caroline said sharply. “This requires an explanation. Why did you send Samuel this letter in my name?”
Could she disclaim any knowledge? Say she sent the letter to prevent Caroline from becoming involved in an affair and ruining her marriage? Would Caroline believe her? No. It was a travesty, and they both knew it.
The ultimate nightmare was real at last. This was the moment when the truth would begin. She might delay it, push it before her in bits and pieces into the future, but in the end it would all be known. It would be clearer to tell it now, like a quick kill. There was nothing left to lose, it was only the manner of it that was in question.
Caroline was still staring at her, implacable.
The old lady took a long, deep breath.
“Yes, I sent him the letter in your name to get him here. I knew he would come, for you. .”
At any other time Caroline’s blush would have given the old lady satisfaction. Now she barely noticed it.
“I assume you will tell me why,” Caroline said coldly.
