“Well, really!” Grandmama stood up, her hands tight, her face flushed. “No wonder Charlotte doesn’t know how to keep a civil tongue in her head, and Emily’s chasing after that ne’er-do-well just because he has a title. She’ll do nothing but make a fool of herself, and you’ll be to blame. I told Edward when he married you that he was making a mistake, but of course he was enamoured of you and didn’t listen. Now Charlotte and Emily will have to pay for it. Well, don’t say afterwards that I didn’t warn you!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Grandmama. Do you want dinner upstairs or will you be sufficiently recovered in time to come down for it?”
“I am not ill, Caroline. I am merely very disappointed, though not surprised.”
“One can recover from disappointment as well as illness,” Caroline said drily.
“You are immodest, Caroline, and unfeminine. No wonder Charlotte is a shrill. If you’d been my daughter, I would have seen to it that you grew up to be a lady.” And without giving Caroline a chance to reply to that, she went out and closed the door behind her with a sharp clack.
Caroline sighed. There was more than enough to do, enough trouble, without Grandmama aping a prima donna. Still, she ought to be used to it by now, only she resented the criticism of Charlotte. The slander against Lily was painful in a different and deeper way.
What kind of person would kill a harmless, penniless girl like Lily Mitchell? Only a madman. A madman straying from the criminal world, or a madman who looked like any of the rest of them, except at night, when he saw a young woman alone in the streets? Could it even be someone she herself had seen?
Her thoughts were interrupted by Edward coming in.
“Good evening, my dear.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Have you had a pleasant day?” He looked at the linen and frowned. “Still no replacement for Lily? I thought you were seeing one or two today.”
“I did. Nothing suitable.”
“Where are the girls? And Mama?” He sat down, stretching comfortably.
“Do you wish some refreshment before dinner?”
“No, thank you. I stopped at my club.”
“I thought you were a little late,” she said as she glanced at the clock.
“Where are they?” he repeated.
“Sarah and Dominic are dining with the Lessings-”
“The who?”
“The Lessings, the sexton and his family.”
“Oh. And the others?”
“Emily is with George Ashworth again. I wish you would speak to her, Edward. I don’t seem to make any impression.”
“I’m afraid, my dear, she will have to learn by the bitterness of experience. I doubt she will listen to anyone. I could forbid her, of course, but they would be bound to see each other at social occasions, and it would only lend an air of romance to the affair, which would strengthen it in her eyes. It would defeat its purpose in the end.”
She smiled. She had not credited him with such perception. She had made the suggestion only to safeguard herself.
“You are quite right,” she agreed. “It will probably blow past of its own accord, in time.”
“And Charlotte and Mama?”
“Charlotte is to dinner with young Uttley, and Grandmama is upstairs, in something of a temper with me, because I would not let her say that Lily was immoral.”
He sighed.
“No, we must not say so, although I fear it may well be true.”
“Why? Because she was killed? If you believe that, then what about Chloe Abernathy?”
“My dear, there are many ways of the world that you do not know, and it is better that it should be so. But it is more than possible that Chloe brought it upon herself also. Unfortunately,” he hesitated, “even well-born girls form liaisons, alliances-,” he left it hanging. “One doesn’t know-there may be-jealousies, revenges. Things it is better we do not discuss.”
And Caroline had to be content with that, although she found herself unable to believe it wholly or to dismiss it from her thoughts.
Chapter Six
It was a week later that Caroline finally succeeded in engaging a new maid to take Lily’s place. It had not been easy because although there were plenty of girls seeking a good position, many of them were unskilled, and many had reputations and references that were less than satisfactory. And, of course, since Lily’s death and the manner of it were known, it was not the most pleasing prospect for a respectable girl seeking employment.
However, Millie Simpkins seemed the best applicant they were likely to get, and the situation was becoming most awkward without someone in the position. The next thing would be that Mrs. Dunphy would find she could not cope, and use the shortage of help as an excuse to give her notice as well.
Millie was a pleasant enough girl, sixteen years old. She appeared to have an accommodating and willing nature, and was clean and passably neat. She lacked any great experience, this being only her second position, but that could be all to the good. If she had few set ways, then she could be taught, moulded into the pattern of this household. And perhaps most important of all, Mrs. Dunphy took to her immediately.
It was Wednesday morning when Millie knocked on the door of the rear sitting room.
“Come in,” Caroline replied.
Millie came in, a coat over her arm, and dropped a funny little curtsey.
“Yes Millie, what is it?” Caroline smiled at her. Poor child was nervous.
“Please, ma’am, this coat is-rather spoiled, ma’am. I don’t rightly know how to mend it. I’m sorry, ma’am.”
Caroline took it from her and held it up. It was one of Edward’s-smart, a formal jacket with velvet collar. It was a moment or two before she found the tear. It was in the sleeve, in the lower section at the back of the arm. How on earth could anyone tear themselves in such a place? She explored it with her fingers, pulling the pieces apart. It was almost as if a sharp claw had ripped it, about two inches long.
“I’m not surprised,” Caroline agreed. “Don’t worry about it, Millie. I’ll see what I can do with it, but we might well have to send it to a tailor, get a new piece set in.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Millie’s relief was almost painful.
Caroline smiled at her. “You did the right thing to bring it to me. Now you’d better go back and get on with the plain linen, and I believe there’s a petticoat of Miss Emily’s that’s torn.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She dropped another awkward little curtsey. “Thank you, ma’am.”
After she had gone Caroline looked at the coat again. She could not remember Edward’s having worn that coat for a long time, weeks in fact. Where could he have done that? Obviously he would not have worn it with such a tear. Why had he not asked her to do something about it at the time? He could not have failed to notice it. It was a coat he frequently wore to his club. In fact he had worn it-the night Lily was killed. She could remember quite clearly his coming in and being so angry with Charlotte for having sent for the police. The picture came to her mind: the gaslight on the wall hissing a little, throwing a yellowish light on the claret-coloured velvet. They had all been too busy with fear and anger to think of clothes. Perhaps that was why he had forgotten it?
It took her most of the afternoon to mend the tear. She had to pull threads from the seams to darn it invisibly, and even so she was not entirely satisfied with it. Edward was home fairly early and she mentioned it straight away, more or less in the way of an apology.
“I’m afraid it is still noticeable,” she held it up. “But only if you catch it in the light, which of course you won’t, since it is on the back of the arm. How in goodness’ name did you come to tear it?”
He frowned, looking away from her. “I’m not sure that I can remember. It must have happened ages ago.”
“Why didn’t you mention it at the time? I could have mended it as easily then as now. In fact more easily: Lily would have done it. She was extremely clever at such things.”
“Well, it probably happened since Lily’s death, and I dare say I thought you had enough to do, being short a maid, without this. After all, I have plenty of other clothes.”