Page 8 of The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth
He tilted his head to one side. “Well done, Mrs. Pennyworth,” he murmured.
Two people in front of them turned and gave them displeased looks. Mr. Baker raised his eyebrows, glanced at her and raised his finger to his amused lips. She had to stifle a giggle. So, the staid former inspector had a sense of humor.
An hour later, Charlotte glanced once again at the long clock in the corner. She stifled a yawn just as she heard a light snore. She turned, to find Mr. Baker fast asleep. Lest they garner the attention of the couple in front of them once again, she nudged him on his arm with her elbow.
“What?” His loud response stopped the poet in his tracks. All heads turned in their direction. Embarrassed, Charlotte winced at the irony in her waking him so his snoring would not disturb the couple in front, only to have him respond with such gusto that they now hadeveryone’sattention.
The young man at the front of the room cleared his throat and continued. Thankfully, he was the last reader on the program. With a sigh of relief, she stood and shook out her skirts. “Would you care to accompany me to the refreshment table? I feel quite parched.”
“Yes, refreshments sound wonderful.” He took her elbow and escorted her to the table and bent to speak into her ear. “This is a good opportunity to introduce me.”
Charlotte was amazed when Mr. Baker took two plates and placed various items on them. He escorted her to a small table where he left her with the plates, then he returned with two cups of tea. Certainly, a private investigator should not know the proper protocol for taking refreshments at a Society event.
It just brought back to her how little she knew of the man. But then, there was no reason to know him. He was her employee. That was all. And it would do her well to remember that so they did not cross any boundaries.
She needn’t notice how well he fit in with the other members of the poetry reading audience, or how gentlemanly he was to hold her elbow to escort her. She could walk by herself, thank you very much. Her legs had been holding her up for years.
Mr. Conrad approached their table. He was a pleasant man, nearing his fiftieth year. She’d always enjoyed speaking with him, but now Mr. Baker had put her on guard, made her re-examine every man with whom she spoke.
The idea that someone from her social circle was responsible for the packages on her doorstep had crossed her mind briefly since most had arrived the mornings after she’d attended various affairs. She hadn’t realized how much she’d dismissed that idea until Mr. Baker had presented it as the obvious one. It was difficult to believe someone she spent time with and had possibly even shared a dance or conversation with, could do such a thing.
“Good evening, Mrs. Pennyworth. Did you enjoy the readings?” Mr. Conrad bowed over her briefly and cast an inquiring glance at Mr. Baker.
“Yes. The readings were delightful. May I present Mr. Elliot Baker to you, Mr. Conrad? He is my guest this evening.”
Mr. Baker stood, and they shook hands. “Will you join us?”
Charlotte was sure Mr. Baker wanted to begin to speak with various men, and Mr. Conrad was a good one to start with. Even though she had found him to be a mild, innocuous gentlemen—who would never dream of doing dreadful things to upset a woman.
They were soon joined by Mr. and Mrs. Graymoor, and General Norwich. Although he held his own with the conversation, Mr. Baker covertly eyed each man and most likely took note of how they presented themselves.
“Mrs. Pennyworth, will we have the pleasure of your attendance at the Assembly this Thursday?” Mrs. Graymoor, an older woman, regarded her as she took a sip of the ratafia. “Mr. Graymoor and I so enjoy your company.”
“Yes, I do plan to attend.”
“Excellent,” General Norwich said.
The conversation continued, with the Graymoors eventually quitting the small group and a few others taking their places. Eventually, Mr. Baker addressed Charlotte. “Mrs. Pennyworth, may I interest you in a stroll around the room, I find that standing in one place makes me a bit restless.”
“Of course.” She joined her arm with his and they strolled away.
He bent close to her ear, “Introduce me to a few more men.”
She steered him in the direction of a group of men having a lively discussion about the latest reports from Scotland Yard on the lack of progress in catching the man brutally killing prostitutes in Whitechapel. She preferred to not listen to the details that men so enjoyed sharing, but once she joined the group, the talk changed to the weather, and other subjects fit for a lady’s ears.
Once several of the guests began to ask for their carriages, Charlotte turned to Mr. Baker. “I find I am quite fatigued, perhaps we can call for my carriage?”
“Of course.” He led her to the front door where he spoke with the butler. His eyes never stopped moving, taking in the surroundings, and focusing on the men conversing.
Charlotte hadn’t realized how strained the evening had been for her until she settled into her carriage. Every man who spoke to her had become a suspect. At least she hadn’t needed to worry that Mr. Baker would stand out as someone who did not belong. He had conducted himself exceptionally well.
“I must thank you for your attention this evening, Mr. Baker.” She offered him a warm smile. He turned to her and once again she was taken with his bearing. He was certainly an attractive man. His strong features looked as if they’d been chiseled from a marble statue. Except he was a flesh and blood man. Even though he’d arrived at her door freshly shaven, already a light shadow appeared on his jaw and chin.
The way he studied her in the golden glow of the lantern on the carriage wall brought flutters to her insides. Although she had no intention of ever entrusting her heart or well-being to a man again, as a widow, she could perhaps one day, engage in a liaison with a gentleman without too much scandal, providing they were discreet.
But certainly not this gentleman, who represented the law, and who, for all intents and purposes was her employee.
“Aside from the poetry, it was my pleasure,” he answered. “Since I do not travel in the circles to which you are accustomed, I had hoped not to call attention to myself.” He grinned. “Except for the snoring, I believe I succeeded.”
She laughed, more of the tension leaving her body. “Yes, you did succeed. However, I am sure Lord and Lady Monroe will never sit in front of us again.”
“Ah, yes. It is difficult to relate to someone who is present to actually listen.”
The carriage continued its trek until it rolled to a stop in front of her house. Mr. Baker helped her from the vehicle and escorted her to the door. Suddenly, she felt awkward. After all, this was not a true social engagement for them, but merely business. “My carriage will take you the rest of the way home.”
“Thank you very much, but after all that sitting, I believe I would enjoy the walk.” He bowed slightly and once the front door was opened, he turned and hurried down the stone steps.
