Page 82 of The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth
With one quick move, Miss Garvey whipped out a huge kitchen knife and stepped between Charlotte and the door. “Sit down, Anne. And don’t call out. It’s long past time we had this conversation.”
The knife was big enough to slaughter an animal, and it appeared Miss Garvey was quite comfortable with it. As if a bright light had lit up the room, Charlotte understood completely. “You’re the one who has been leaving the packages on my doorstep.”
“Yes, of course it was me. I had to punish you, Anne. You have been a naughty girl.”
Charlotte closed her eyes, hoping when she opened them, this nightmare would be over. She licked her dry lips and tried once more to reason with the woman. “Miss Garvey, please listen to me. You are mistaken. I am not this Anne you are referring to. My name is Charlotte and before you appeared at our social events, I had never met you before.”
“Silence!” Miss Garvey waved the knife around, coming quite close to Charlotte’s face. Dear God, if only one of the servants would attempt to come in. Finding the door locked, they would know something was amiss.
And with the door locked, Charlotte could not scream for help. Before anyone could break down the door, she would be dead. Miss Garvey was slight, but Charlotte remembered from hugging her once that she was quite muscular.
Miss Garvey sneered. “You are trying to do it to me again. I told you the last time when you tried to leave me for thatman—she spit the word out—that I would not lose you. You belong to me.”
She used the knife to wave to the settee at the far end of the room. “Sit down.”
Charlotte was frantic to think of a way out of the room. If the servants had followed orders, the French door leading to the patio was locked.
They both sat, and Miss Garvey’s shoulders slumped. “We had such a wonderful relationship. Do you remember the good times we had? The times I spent making love to you?” Her face grew dark. “And punishing you because you had been bad? Don’t you remember, Anne?”
Making love to me?
Bile rose to the back of Charlotte’s throat. The room became stifling, and the walls were closing in on her. She moved to the end of the settee. “Remind me of the good times we had.” Maybe if she could keep Miss Garvey talking, it would distract her and give Charlotte time to figure out how to get out of the room.
“Move back, Anne.” The deep voice almost didn’t seem to come from the woman. Then she smiled like a young girl speaking of her first love. “We loved each other. When you were afraid, I held you. When you were lonely, I read your favorite books to you.” The knife seemed to slip from her hand, but she quickly recovered, and grasped it again.
“I didn’t want to kill you, you know.” She shook her head in sorrow. “No, I didn’t want to kill you, but you were determined to leave me. You knew I was your Master, and always would be. Only I didn’t expect you to turn up here in London. How did you do that? I thought you were dead.”
Miss Garvey was obviously deranged. Charlotte could not get to either door without passing the woman and her very large knife. Keeping her talking would be the best thing to do until one of the servants attempted to enter and found the door locked. Or Elliot appeared.
Dear God, please let Elliot come soon.
* * *
Not wishingto wait for the omnibus, Elliot hailed a hackney and directed him to Charlotte’s townhouse. After reading Talbot’s concerns about Miss Garvey in his journal, it all came together, and he realized they had been mistaken. Charlotte’s tormentor had not been a man. Who would have thought a woman was behind it all?
Apparently, the mistake Talbot had made was confronting Miss Garvey with his suspicions, which was his last notation in the journal. Since Elliot was quite sure Miss Garvey had been the one to hire the man who had first beaten him, and then shot at him, she no doubt was responsible for Talbot’s death. The fact that she had his hand to stuff into Charlotte’s glove pointed to her as the murderess.
No doubt the woman was mentally unbalanced, but why she had focused on Charlotte for her attentions remained a mystery. But now, he needed to get to Charlotte and warn her to stay clear of the woman. Once he had assured himself that Charlotte was all right, he would notify Scotland Yard to arrest Miss Garvey.
Then, finally, they could put this all behind them, and start their life together.
The hackney pulled up in front of Charlotte’s house, and Elliot alighted and paid the driver. “No need to remain, I will see myself home.”
The man tipped his hat and moved on. Elliot took the stairs two at a time and knocked on the door. Thomas answered immediately. “Good afternoon, Thomas. I assume Mrs. Pennyworth is at home?” She had better be since she was under orders from him not to leave the house unless Thomas was with her.
“Yes, sir, she is in the drawing room.” Elliot headed in that direction when Thomas’s words stopped him. “She is entertaining Miss Garvey who arrived a short time ago.”
Elliot came to an abrupt stop and his stomach muscles twisted. He turned back to Thomas. “Did you say Miss Garvey is with Mrs. Pennyworth right now?”
“Yes, sir.”
He patted his pocket to be certain his pistol was there. He pulled it out and checked that it was loaded. Hopefully, he would not need it, but he had to be careful. He also had to be cautious in entering the room. Miss Garvey’s visit could be quite innocuous, or it could be deadly. He had to be prepared for anything. “Thomas, have you heard anything unusual since Miss Garvey arrived?”
“No, sir. The only odd thing was after I brought in the tea tray, the door to the drawing room closed. Ordinarily, Mrs. Pennyworth leaves it open when she is entertaining.”
Elliot dwelled on Thomas’s words for a moment. He could think of no reason why Charlotte would change her normal habits, except if she was forced to do so. Cautiously, he moved down the corridor, and leaned his head against the door. Faint mumbling was the only sound, and he made out Charlotte’s voice. She was safe, but he did not know for how long.
Taking a deep breath, he attempted to unlatch the door, and found it locked. His heart thudded and he broke into a sweat. There was only one reason the door would be locked, and that was not a good one.
