Page 42 of The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth
13
Elliot bade Charlotte a good night, checked the area outside her house, refused her offer of the use of her carriage, and began the walk home. He needed the fresh air to clear his head and calm his body.
What the devil was wrong with him that he kept kissing her? He’d never found a woman irresistible—except Annabelle—and look how that had turned out? Keeping his hands off Charlotte was nearly impossible.
What heshouldbe doing is narrowing down his suspects to put an end to this terror she was living under. Mr. Spencer, with all his spouting of righteousness and bible thumping, could certainly believe he was punishing Charlotte for what he perceived was a wanton life. The packages had begun arriving at her doorstep around the same time he’d arrived at St. Michael’s.
The main problem with Mr. Spencer being their man was his lack of wealth. The vicar could not have afforded the expensive jewelry that had been left on the front steps.
Then there was the ever-solicitous Mr. Talbot, a close friend of Charlotte’s deceased husband. Strange, but he did not seem the type of man Charlotte had described. Mr. Pennyworth had died in an accident after racing in a carriage. He’d been acting on a dare from one of his friends. Not the sort of behavior he would expect from Talbot, who seemed meek, and even fussy, in some ways.
Nevertheless, after time spent together this evening, he was no longer convinced that the pleasant and somewhat banal man would do such a thing. Unless he left the items to frighten her—which they had—so she would turn to him for help—which she hadn’t? And furthermore, were either the vicar or Talbot of a mind to hire someone to threaten his life, if he didn’t leave Charlotte alone?
That brought him to Von Braun, the newly arrived, mostly unknown `member of the social circle. He was hard to figure since he kept to himself but seemed to spend a great deal of time studying Charlotte.
What bothered him the most was the niggling doubt that none of those men were tormenting Charlotte. Could there be someone so elusive that Elliot had completely overlooked the true culprit? On the other hand, was his assumption that it was someone in her social circle completely off?
The man he’d hired to discreetly speak with Charlotte’s neighbors and the tradesmen she saw on a regular basis, had discovered nothing of interest. Again, he was stumped by the expensive jewelry. There were not a lot of people who could afford such luxuries.
So far, he had interviewed a number of jewelers in an attempt to unearth the purchaser of the bracelet. What he’d found thus far was a reluctance on the part of the gemologists to reveal the names of customers.
Elliot sighed and waved down a passing omnibus. The walk had not cleared his head, but had, at least, taken his mind off how enticing he found his client. Best to get the matter cleared up, and onto another project that didn’t involve a beautiful damsel in distress.
* * *
The next morning,he spent more than an hour listing his suspects, and the reasons why, and why not, each one could be the antagonist. He felt as though he was missing something.
After cleaning up correspondence with Mr. Gleason that had piled up during this investigation, he took time to speak with three more close-mouthed jewelers. Frustrated at his lack of progress, he headed back to Charlotte’s house to escort her to a card party. Von Braun was expected to be present, which would give him time to study him further. He would also begin looking at other suspects.
Charlotte was descending the stairs as he entered her house. Despite the errant curl dangling on the side of her head, and the flattering dark green two- piece suit with black piping down the front that hugged her body, he promised himself he would keep his hands off her.
“Good evening, Mrs. Pennyworth.”
She smiled, no doubt amused at the formality since the last time he saw her, their lips had been locked together, and their bodies pressed against each other.
“Good evening to you, Mr. Baker.” She smirked, seemingly confirming her memory of their last meeting. “It appears we are both early. Would you care for a brandy before we leave?”
“Yes, I would.” He pulled his timepiece from his vest pocket. “We have about a half hour to spare.”
Once they were settled in front of the fireplace, glasses in hand, he said, “I find I am stymied in my investigation, which annoys me quite a bit. Today, I made a list of my primary suspects, and while each of them has reason to be on that list, I feel as though there is something I am missing.”
“I assume Mr. Talbot and Baron Von Braun are on that list?”
“Yes, as well as Mr. Spencer.”
The golden light from the fireplace emphasized her burnished curls and raised eyebrows. “Do you believe a man of the cloth could do such vile things?”
“Perhaps this man of the cloth could, but what keeps me from considering him as a serious contender is a lack of money. Very few vicars can afford the type of bracelet that was left on your steps.”
“True. Mr. Talbot certainly does come across as my unwanted guardian—for lack of a better word—which does concern me. However, I have reason to believe Miss Garvey has atendrefor him. Perhaps him for her, as well? Another thought. You must admit, after last evening, it is difficult to cast him into the role of tormentor.” She shifted in her seat, turning so her knees brushed his leg. “I have always thought of him as a friend—not one to wish anyone ill.”
Elliot contemplated her words for a minute. “He does present himself in that light, but if we rule out him and Spencer, we are left with Von Braun, who has nothing more to land him on my list other than he is new to your circle of friends and watches you a great deal.”
* * *
They finishedtheir drinks and left the house, settling into the carriage. Deep in thought, Charlotte stared out the window at the misty evening. The gaslights along the way loomed in front of them to brighten a small area on their passage, then the carriage was plunged back into darkness once more until the next light appeared.
She felt as though her life followed the same path. She had wonderful friends, an active social life, and enough resources to provide her with the essentials and even some luxuries. Then the first disturbing package had arrived, plunging her into darkness.
