Page 16 of The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth
She’d been welcomed to it when he finished, but by then her breakfast had been over. True independence was being able to read the newspaper at her own table while she ate breakfast.
A quick look at the clock told her it was near time to go. She sent word for Thomas to ask the coachman to bring her carriage around. Her small basket of treats for the children hooked over her arm, she tied the bonnet ribbons under her chin.
Satisfied at her appearance, she smiled at Bridget as she opened the door. The toe of her half boot struck something, and she looked down.
And screamed.
A large, brown, dead rat lay on the step, its throat cut ear to ear, its poor head hanging off by a thread, its glassy eyes staring straight at her. A pool of drying blood had begun to gel under its body. A metallic stench rose from the puddle, turning her stomach. The rodent’s thick tail was wrapped around a velvet cloth with a huge pink bow from a jewelry seller. Her stomach roiled at the incongruity of the pairing. Liquid flooded her mouth, and she swallowed several times to keep her breakfast down. She gripped the doorframe to hold herself up, but with a slight moan, darkness claimed her, and her knees gave way.
* * *
Elliot steppedfrom the omnibus and walked toward his house. He’d spent the entire morning checking into several men’s backgrounds. He’d visited bankers, tradesmen, and clubs, asking questions. So far, none of the men on his list had anything suspicious to note, which was no surprise since all of them had been friends or acquaintances of Mrs. Pennyworth from the time she’d married her deceased husband.
He still expected the man leaving his unique calling cards to be someone new to her, but every man had to be investigated so he could narrow the possibilities.
Lost in thought as he turned the corner and entered his street, he was surprised to see a fancy carriage parked in front of his boarding house. On closer inspection, it appeared to be Mrs. Pennyworth’s vehicle. He needn’t ask the coachman why he was there, since he was almost sure she had received another package.
“Good day, Mr. Baker. Mrs. Pennyworth asked that you call upon her.” The man shouted from the top of the carriage.
“Yes. I will be happy to. Please give me a moment to fetch a few things from my rooms.”
The coachman nodded and Elliot hurried up the steps. He left the notes he’d made that morning on the desk in his room and picked up a new pad of paper. This would be a good time to interview her servants and possibly even some of the neighbors.
A light drizzle had begun by the time they arrived at Mrs. Pennyworth’s house. He bounded up the stairs, and the door was opened immediately by one of the maids. She nodded at him. “Mrs. Pennyworth is in the drawing room, sir.”
“Thank you.” Just as he started down the corridor, a man stepped out of the drawing room. “Are you Mr. Baker?”
“Yes, sir.” The man did not have the demeanor of a servant and carried a small bag. “And you are?”
“Dr. Blakely. I was summoned by Mrs. Pennyworth’s lady’s maid a bit ago. It seems she had a fright and needed something to calm her nerves. She mentioned you were employed by her to clear up some nastiness she has been dealing with.”
“That is correct. How is she now?”
“I gave her a sedative, but she refused to take it until she’d spoken with you.”
Elliot nodded and walked around the man into the drawing room. Mrs. Pennyworth reclined on a settee with a cold cloth on her head. He cursed himself at the site of her paleness. The young man he’d employed to watch the house had left word that nothing had arrived. Either he had been lying abed while writing that note, instead of on the job, or the package had arrived after Stephen had checked and left.
“I assume another package has arrived?” He pulled up a dainty stuffed chair that he worried would not hold his large frame and sat, taking in her tightened lips and fearful eyes.
“Yes, it was horrible.”
“What was it this time?”
Mrs. Pennyworth struggled to sit up, and he immediately rose and helped her. “It was a dead rat, its head practically cut off.” She closed her eyes and shuddered. “Next to it was a package, a gift-wrapped package.”
“Where are the items now?” She looked dreadful, and he hoped to gain as much information from her before she was forced to take the sedative the doctor had left.
“Bridget was at the door when I found it. I apparently fainted, and my footman, Thomas, was summoned to carry me here. I believe someone took the horrible items to the back porch.”
Elliot ran his fingers through his hair. “There are several things that must be done. I need to see the objects, and then I need to speak with your staff. One by one. I know you did not want me to interview them without you present. Do you feel up to it?”
She nodded, twisting a lace handkerchief in her hands. “Yes. Honestly, I feel better with you here.”
* * *
Charlotte took in a deep breath.Yes, Mr. Baker’s mere presence calmed her frazzled nerves. She hated more than anything to depend on a man to make her feel secure, but there it was. This was by far the worst parcel she’d received yet, and she had a horrible feeling they would only get worse.
“Can you please pull the cord to summon a maid?” She nodded in the direction of the brocaded rope hanging near the door. “I need to send notes to St. Jerome’s, and Mrs. Fenster who is expecting me for tea after my visit to the orphanage.”
