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'Gracie, Emily is away and so is my mother,' Charlotte told her gravely. 'I can't go and leave Jemima and Daniel until I find someone to look after them, someone I can trust completely. Where do I look? Who can recommend someone without any doubt or hesitation at all?'

Gracie was silent for so long that Charlotte realised she had asked an impossible question.

'I'm sorry,' she said quickly. 'That was unfair.'

The kettle was boiling and began to whistle. Gracie stood up, picked up the cloth to protect her hands, and pulled it away from the heat. She swilled a little of the steaming water around the teapot to warm it, emptied it down the sink, and then made the tea. She carried the pot carefully over to the table and set it on a metal trivet to protect the wood. Then she sat down again.

'I can,' she said.

Charlotte blinked. 'I beg your pardon?'

'I can recommend someone,' Gracie said. 'Minnie Maude Mudway. I knowed 'er since before I ever met you, or come to yer 'ouse. She lived near where I used ter, in Spitalfields, just round the corner, couple o' streets along. 'Er uncle were killed. I 'elped 'er find 'oo done it, 'member?'

Charlotte was confused, trying to find the memory, and failing.

'You were riding the donkey, for Christmas,' Gracie urged. 'Minnie Maude were eight then, but she's growed up now. Yer can trust 'er, 'cos she don't never, ever give up. I'll find 'er for yer. An' I'll go ter Keppel Street meself an' check on them every day.'

Charlotte looked at Gracie's small, earnest face, the gently steaming teapot and the home-made cake with its rich sultanas, the whole lovingly immaculate kitchen.

'Thank you,' she said softly. 'That would be excellent. If you call in every day then I shan't worry.'

Gracie smiled widely. 'Yer like a piece o' cake?'

'Yes, please,' Charlotte accepted.

By three o'clock in the afternoon, Charlotte was already packed to leave with Narraway on the train the following morning, should it prove possible after all. She could not settle to anything. One moment she wanted to prepare the vegetables for dinner, then she forgot what she was intending to cook, or thought of something else to pack. Twice she imagined she heard someone at the door, but when she looked there was no one. Three times she went to check that Daniel and Jemima were doing their homework.

Then at last the knock on the door came, familiar in the rhythm, as if it were a person she knew. She turned and almost ran to open it.

On the step was Gracie, her smile so wide it lit her whole face with triumph. Next to her stood another young woman, several inches taller, slender, and with unruly hair she had done her best to tame, unsuccessfully. But the thing that caught Charlotte's attention was the intelligence in her eyes, even though now she looked definitely nervous.

'This is Minnie Maude,' Gracie announced, as if she were a magician pulling a rabbit out of a top hat.

Minnie Maude dropped a tiny curtsy, obviously not quite sure enough to do it properly.

Charlotte could not hide her smile not of amusement, but of relief. 'How do you do, Minnie Maude? Please come in. If Gracie has explained my difficulty to you then you know how delighted I am to see you.' She opened the door wide and turned to lead the way. She took them into the kitchen because it was warmer, and it would be Minnie Maude's domain, if she accepted the position.

'Please sit down,' Charlotte invited them. 'Would you like tea?' It was a rhetorical question. One made tea automatically.

'I'll do it,' Gracie said instantly.

'You will not!' Charlotte told her. 'You don't work here, you are my guest.' Then as she saw the startled look on Gracie's face. 'Please,' she added.

Gracie sat down suddenly, looking awkward.

Charlotte set about making the tea. She had no cake to offer, but she cut lacy-thin slices of bread and butter, and there was fine-sliced cucumber and hard-boiled egg. Of course there was also jam, although it was a little early in the afternoon for anything so sweet.

'Gracie tells me that you have known each other for a very long time,' Charlotte said as she worked.

'Yes, ma'am, since I were eight,' Minnie Maude replied. 'She 'elped me when me uncle Alf were killed, an' Charlie got stole.' She drew in her breath as if to say something more, and then changed her mind.

Charlotte had her back to the table, hiding her face and her smile. She imagined that Gracie had schooled Minnie Maude well in not saying too much, not offering what was not asked for.

'Did she also explain that my husband is in Special Branch?' she asked. 'Which is a sort of police, but dealing with people who are trying to cause war and trouble of one sort or another to the whole country.'

'Yes, ma'am. She said as 'e were the best detective in all England,' Minnie Maude replied. There was a warmth of admiration in her voice already.

Charlotte brought the plate of bread and butter over, and set it on the table.

'He is very good,' she agreed. 'But that might be a slight exaggeration. At the moment he has had to go abroad on a case, unexpectedly. My previous maid left without any notice, because she misunderstood something that happened, and felt she could not stay. I have to leave tomorrow morning very early, because of another problem that has arisen.' It sounded peculiar, even to her own ears.

'Yes, ma'am,' Minnie Maude nodded seriously. 'A very important gentleman, as Gracie speaks very 'ighly of too. She said as someone is blaming 'im fer summink as 'e didn't do, an' you're going to 'elp 'im, 'cos it's the right thing ter do.'

Charlotte relaxed a little. 'Exactly. I'm afraid we are a household of unexpected events, at times. But you will be in no danger at all. However, your job will involve considerable responsibility, because although I am here most of the time, I am not always.'

'Yes, ma'am. I bin in service before, but the lady I were with passed on, an' I in't found a new place yet. But Gracie said as she'll come by every day, just ter make certain as everything's all right, like.' Minnie Maude's face was a little tense, her eyes never leaving Charlotte's face.

Charlotte looked at Gracie, and saw the confidence in her eyes, then, because she was sitting at the table sideways to her, the small hands knotted, knuckles white, in her lap. She made her decision.

'Then, Minnie Maude, I would be very happy to engage you in the position of housemaid, starting immediately. I apologise for the urgency of the situation, and you will be compensated for the inconvenience by a double salary for the first month, to reflect also the fact that you will be alone at the beginning, which is always the most difficult time in a new place.'

Minnie Maude gulped. 'Thank you, ma'am.'

'After tea I shall introduce you to Jemima and Daniel. They are normally well-behaved, and the fact that you are a friend of Gracie's will endear you to them from the beginning. Jemima knows where most things are. If you ask her, she will be happy to help you. In fact, she will probably take a pride in it, but do not allow her to be cheeky. And that goes for Daniel as well. He will probably try your patience, simply to test you. Please do not let him get away with too much.'

The kettle was boiling and she made the tea, bringing it over to the table to brew. While they were waiting she explained some of the other household arrangements, and where different things were kept.

'I shall leave you a list of the tradesmen we use, and what they should charge you, although I dare say you are familiar with prices. But they might take advantage, if they think you don't know.' She went on to tell her of the dishes Daniel and Jemima liked best, and the vegetables they were likely to refuse if they thought they could get away with it. 'And rice pudding,' she finished. 'That is a treat, not more than twice a week.'

'Wi' nutmeg on the top?' Minnie Maude asked.

Charlotte glanced at Gracie, then smiled, the ease running through her like a warmth inside. 'Exactly. I think this is going to work very well.'

Chapter Four.

Gracie and Minnie Maude returned early in the evening, accompanied by Tellman, who carried Minnie Maude's luggage. He took it up to the room that not long ago had been Gracie's, then excused himself to take Gracie home. Minnie Maude began to unpack her belongings and settle in, helped by Jemima, and watched from a respectful distance by Daniel. Clothes were women's business.

Once she had made certain that all was well, Charlotte telephoned Great-aunt Vespasia. Immensely relieved to find her at home, she asked if she might visit her.

'You sound very serious,' Vespasia's voice came across the rather crackly wire.

Charlotte gripped the instrument more tightly in her hand. 'I am. I have a great deal to tell you, and some advice to seek. But I would much prefer to tell you in person rather than this way. In fact, some of it is most confidential.'

'Then you had better come to see me,'Vespasia replied. 'I shall send my carriage for you. Are you ready now? We shall have supper. I was going to have Welsh rarebit on toast, with a little very good Hock I have, and then apple flan and cream. Apples at this time of year are not fit for anything except cooking.'

'I would love it,' Charlotte accepted. 'I shall just make certain that my new maid is thoroughly settled and aware of what to cook for Daniel and Jemima, then I shall be ready.'

'I thought you had had her since Gracie's wedding,' Vespasia remarked. 'Is she still not able to decide what to prepare?'

'Mrs Waterman gave notice last night and left this morning,' Charlotte explained. 'Gracie found me someone she has known for years, but the poor girl has only just arrived. In fact, she is still unpacking.'

'Charlotte?' Now Vespasia sounded worried. 'Has something happened that is serious?'

'Yes. Oh . . . we are all alive and well, but yes, it is serious, and I am in some concern as to whether the course of action I plan is wise or not.'

'And you are going to ask my advice? It must be serious indeed if you are willing to listen to someone else.' Vespasia was vaguely mocking, but the anxiety all but overwhelmed her.

'I'm not,' Charlotte told her. 'I have already given my word.' She realised how final that sounded, and felt the chill rise inside her.

'I shall dispatch my coachman immediately,' Vespasia responded. 'If Gracie recommends this new person then she will be good.You had better wear a cape. The evening has turned somewhat cool.'

'Yes, yes, I will,' Charlotte agreed, then she said goodbye, and replaced the receiver on its hook.

Half an hour later, Vespasia's coachman knocked on the door. Minnie Maude seemed confident enough for Charlotte to leave her, and Daniel and Jemima were not in the least concerned. Indeed, they seemed to be enjoying showing her the cupboards and drawers, and telling her exactly what was kept in each.

Charlotte answered the door, told the coachman that she would be ready in a minute, then went to the kitchen. She stopped for a moment to stare at Jemima's earnest face explaining to Minnie Maude which jugs were used to keep the day's milk, and where the milkman was to be found in the morning. Daniel was moving from foot to foot in his urgency to put in his advice as well, and Minnie Maude was smiling at first one, then the other.

'I may be late back,' Charlotte interrupted. 'Please don't wait up for me.'

'No, ma'am,' Minnie Maude said quickly. 'But I'll be happy to, if you wish?'

'Thank you, but please make yourself comfortable,' Charlotte told her. 'Good night.'

She went straight out to the carriage, and for the next half-hour rode through the streets to Vespasia's house in Gladstone Park which was really not so much a park as a small square with flowering trees. She sat and tried to compose in her mind exactly how she would tell Vespasia what she meant to do.

At last Charlotte sat in Vespasia's quiet sitting room. The colours were warm, muted to a familiar gentleness. The curtains were drawn across the window onto the garden and the fire burned in the hearth with a soft whickering of flames. She looked into Vespasia's face, and it was not so easy to explain to her the wild decision to which Charlotte had already committed herself.

Vespasia had been considered by many to be the most beautiful woman of her generation, as well as the most outrageous in her wit and her political opinions or maybe passions would be a more fitting word. Time had marked her features lightly and if anything, liberated her temperament even more. She was secure enough in her financial means and her social pre-eminence not to have to care what other people thought of her, as long as she was certain in her own mind that a course of action was for the best. Criticism might hurt, but it was a long time since it had deterred her.

Now she sat stiff-backed she had never lounged in her life her silver hair coiffed to perfection. A high lace collar covered her throat and the lamplight gleaming on the three rows of pearls.

'You had better begin at the beginning,' she told Charlotte. 'Supper will be another hour.'

At least Charlotte knew what the beginning was. 'Earlier this week Mr Narraway came to see me at home, to tell me that Thomas had been in pursuit of a man who had committed a murder, almost in front of him. He and his junior had been obliged to follow this person to France, and had not had the opportunity to inform anyone of what they were doing. Mr Narraway knew that they were in France. They sent a telegram. He told me of it so that I would not worry when Thomas did not come home, or call me.'

Vespasia nodded. 'It was courteous of him to come himself,' she observed a trifle drily.

Charlotte caught the tone in her voice and her eyes widened.

'He is fond of you, my dear,' Vespasia responded. Her amusement was so slight it could barely be seen, and was gone again the second after. 'What has this to do with the maid?'

Charlotte looked at the drawn curtains, the pale design of flowers on the carpet. 'He came again yesterday evening,' she said quietly, 'and stayed for much longer.'

Vespasia's voice changed almost imperceptibly. 'Indeed?'

Charlotte raised her eyes to meet Vespasia's. 'There appears to have been a conspiracy within Special Branch to make it look as if he embezzled a good deal of money.' She saw Vespasia's look of disbelief. 'They have dismissed him, right there on the spot.'

'Oh dear,' Vespasia said with infinite shades of meaning. 'I see why you are distressed. This is very serious indeed. Victor may have his faults, but financial dishonesty is not one of them. Money does not interest him. He would not even be tempted to do such a thing.'

Charlotte did not find that comforting. What faults was Vespasia implying that Narraway did possess? It seemed she knew him better than Charlotte had appreciated, even though Vespasia had interested herself in many of Pitt's cases, and therefore of Narraway's.Then the moment after, studying Vespasia's expression, Charlotte realised that Vespasia was deeply concerned for him, and that she believed what he had said.

Charlotte found the tension in her body easing and she smiled. 'I did not believe it of him either, but there is something in the past that troubles him very much.'

'There will be a good deal,' Vespasia said with the ghost of a smile. 'He is a man of many sides, but the most vulnerable one is his work, because that is what he cares about.'

'Then he wouldn't jeopardise it, would he?' Charlotte pointed out.

'No. Someone finds it imperative that Victor Narraway be driven out of office, and out of credit with Her Majesty's government. There are many possible reasons, and I have no idea which of them it is, so I have very little idea where to begin.'

'We have to help him.' Charlotte hated asking this of Vespasia, but the need was greater than the reluctance. 'Not only for his sake, but for Thomas's. In Special Branch Thomas is regarded as Mr Narraway's man. I know this because, apart from my own sense, Thomas has told me so himself, and so has Mr Narraway. Aunt Vespasia, if Mr Narraway is gone, then whoever got rid of him may very well try to get rid of Thomas too-'

'Of course,' Vespasia cut across her. 'You do not need to explain it to me, my dear. And Thomas is in France, not knowing what has happened, or that Victor can no longer give him the support from London that he needs.'

'Have you friends-' Charlotte began.

'I do not know who has done this, or why,' Vespasia answered even before the question was finished. 'So I do not know whom I can trust.'

'Victor . . . Mr Narraway . . .' Charlotte felt a faint heat in her cheeks, '. . . said he believed it was an old case in Ireland, twenty years ago, for which someone now seeks revenge. He didn't tell me much about it. I think it embarrassed him.'

'No doubt.' Vespasia allowed a bleak spark of humour into her eyes for an instant. 'Twenty years ago? Why now? The Irish are good at holding a grudge, or a favour, but they don't wait on payment if they don't have to.'

'"Revenge is a dish best served cold"?' Charlotte suggested wryly.

'Cold, perhaps, my dear, but this would be frozen. There is more to it than a personal vengeance, but I do not know what. By the way, what has this to do with your maid leaving? Clearly there is something you have . . . forgotten . . . to tell me.'

Charlotte found herself uncomfortable. Had Vespasia been less gentle, or less obviously afraid, she would have been angry.

'Oh, Mr Narraway called after dark, and since the matter was of secrecy, for obvious reasons, he closed the parlour door. I'm afraid Mrs Waterman thought I was am a woman of dubious morals. She doesn't feel she can remain in a household where the mistress has "goings-on", as she put it.'

'Then she is going to find herself considerably restricted in her choice of position,' Vespasia said waspishly. 'Especially if her disapproval extends to the master as well.'

'She didn't say.' Charlotte bit her lip, but couldn't conceal her smile. 'But she would be utterly scandalised, so much so that she might have left that night, out into the street alone, with her suitcase in her hand, if she had known that I promised Mr Narraway that I would go to Ireland with him, to do whatever I can to find the truth and help him clear his name. I have to. His enemies are Thomas's enemies, and Thomas will have no defence against them without Mr Narraway there. Then what shall we do?'

Vespasia was silent for several moments. 'Be very careful, Charlotte,' she said gravely. 'I think you are unaware of how dangerous that could become.'

Charlotte clenched her hands. 'What would you have me do? Sit here in London while Mr Narraway is unjustly ruined, and then wait for Thomas to be ruined as well? At best he will be dismissed because he was Mr Narraway's man, and they don't like him. At worst he may be implicated in the same embezzlement, and end up charged with theft.' Her voice cracked a little and she realised how tired she was, and how very frightened. 'What would you do?'

Vespasia reached across and touched her hand very gently, just fingertip to fingertip. 'The same as you, my dear. That's not the same thing as saying that it is wise. It is simply the only choice you can live with.'

There was a tap on the door, and the maid announced that supper was ready. They ate in the small breakfast room. Slender-legged Georgian mahogany furniture glowed dark amid golden yellow walls, as if they were dining in the sunset, although the curtains were closed and the only light came from the gas brackets on the walls.

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