Page 22 of The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth
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“Do you feel as though you learned anything this afternoon?” Charlotte settled herself in the carriage across from Elliot. The card party had been pleasant enough, but since she was now looking at every man who spoke to her with suspicion, the strain truly took a toll on her nerves.
“I know Talbot was a friend of Mr. Pennyworth, but how well do you know him? He seemed a bit unsettled when the baron fawned over you.”
“He hardlyfawnedover me. He was merely being polite. And to answer your question, Mr. Talbot was my husband’s friend. He visited our home on a regular basis, but aside from that we had no contact, except when he assisted me during the funeral, and the few times he stopped by over the course of my mourning to ask after my well-being. I’m sure if he had dark intentions toward me, it would have come out before now.”
“You were in mourning for almost a year, so he had no reason to see other men paying you their attentions.”
“Why would that matter?”
“Because he might very well have intentions toward you and seeing other men as competition could set him off.”
“But how would that figure into sending me dead animals?”
They were back to that again, but not in the mood to continue the vein of the earlier discussion, Elliot squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have all the answers, merely trying to put together pieces of the puzzle. For now, he will stay on my ‘possibility’ list. Let’s discuss the baron.”
Charlotte sighed and looked out the carriage window. The dark circles under her eyes, illuminated by the pale sun coming through the window, reminded him how this matter was affecting her. So far, she’d come across as a strong woman, but even strong people were known to crack under pressure.
After a few minutes of silence, when Elliot thought he would need to repeat his question, she turned to him. “Truth be known, he made me uneasy.”
Elliot sat up straight and leaned forward. “How so?”
“Perhaps he did fawn over me. He held my hand longer than is proper, and when I tried to tug it free, he kept holding it for a few more seconds, as if to let me know he had some power or control over me.”
He had noticed that little byplay between Charlotte and the baron, which was why Elliot had kept his eyes on the man while he roamed the room, and even when he sat with other players at various tables. “He remained at your table the entire party, even though Mr. Talbot and Miss Garvey eventually switched to other tables. Did anything of note happen while you played cards?”
She shook her head. “No, that is the strange thing. After I was initially introduced to him, he never said another word. Not to me, nor to anyone else at the table that didn’t relate to the game. But—every time I looked up from my cards, he was staring at me.”
Baron Van Braun shot to the top of Elliot’s list. He would ask his foreign office contacts about the baron first thing in the morning. Thinking it best to take her mind off the events, since it was his job to ferret out the scoundrel so Charlotte’s life could return to normal, he changed the subject. “I noticed on the list of events you provided me that a St. Jerome’s was mentioned for tomorrow. Is that a church you attend?”
“No. St. Jerome’s is an orphanage in St. Giles.” Her bright smile erased some of the strain on her face. “I go there two or three times a week to play with the children and read to them. I bring treats, clothing donated by friends, fresh fruit which they rarely get, and baked goods from my cook.”
His eyebrows rose. “St. Giles? I don’t think it is a good idea to venture into that part of town. Does anyone else go with you?”
“No.” She raised her chin. “I answer to no one. I can certainly move about freely without restraint. I have been going to St. Jerome’s since before Mr. Pennyworth and I married.”
“I don’t approve, and I will accompany you tomorrow.”
Her eyes snapped as she glared at him. “Don’t approve? Excuse me, Mr. Baker, but I hired you to find out who is leaving packages on my front doorstep, not to tell me how to conduct my life.”
“Things have changed, madam. Someone is haunting you, leaving horrid things on your doorstep. How do you know this person is not keeping track of your comings and goings? At the best of times, St. Giles is not a place for a gently reared woman to be, let alone one who is already in someone’s sinister sights.” When she didn’t answer, but still gave him a mulish look, he added. “I will accompany you tomorrow. Just tell me what time.”
The flush on her face told him she did not take his commands well, but nevertheless, he would not permit her to expose herself to danger. “I generally leave at ten in the morning. If you wish to escort me, please be on time.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I will not wait for you.”
Stubborn woman. Why had he allowed himself to get mixed up in this entire matter? It irritated him. Everything about Charlotte Pennyworth spelled trouble. She was beautiful. She stirred his loins every time he was near her. She was headstrong, and above all she was hiding something. Something he intended to discover.
“Tell me a little bit about your life before you married Mr. Pennyworth.”
Charlotte’s face flushed, and she immediately began to pick off invisible lint from her pelisse. “I worked at Drummonds in the West End.”
The distrustful monster in him reared its ugly head. “The bank that deals with the aristocracy, gentry, and wealthy lawyers?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do there?” While it was not unheard of for a woman to work at a bank, it was, indeed rare.
“I was a file clerk, and on occasion I delivered papers to some of the bank’s customers. It was how I met Mr. Pennyworth.” Although she did not seem as fidgety, her terse words told him this was a conversation she wanted to end.
