Rutland Place Read Online Free PDF Page A

no idea!”
    Suddenly Charlotte had a glimpse of the obvious, and wondered why she had been so blind as not to have seen it before.
    “What is in the locket, Mama?”
    “In”—Caroline swallowed—“in the locket?”
    “Yes, Mama, what is in it?” She almost wished she had not asked. Caroline’s face was white, and she stood perfectly still for several seconds. Outside, the carriage wheels rattled on the road and a horse snorted.
    “A photograph,” Caroline said at last.
    Charlotte looked at her. She heard her own voice almost against her will, sounding disembodied and remote.
    “Of whom?”
    “A—friend. Just a friend. But I would rather it was not found by anyone else. They might misunderstand my feelings and cause me embarrassment, and even—” She stopped, and her eyes came up to meet Charlotte’s at last.
    “Even what, Mama?” Charlotte asked very softly. Maddock was back in the hall, standing with her cloak, and the footman was at the door.
    “Even perhaps—a little pressure,” Caroline whispered.
    Charlotte was used to ugly words, and ugly thoughts. Crime was part of Pitt’s life, and she was too close to him not to share much of his pain, confusion, or pity.
    “You mean blackmail?” she asked.
    Caroline winced. “I suppose I do.”
    Charlotte put her arms around her and held her tightly for a moment. To Maddock and the footman it must have looked like an affectionate goodbye.
    “Then we must find out where it is,” she said almost under her breath. “And see that it does no harm. Don’t worry! We’ll manage.” Then she raised her tone to normal and stepped back. “Thank you for a most pleasant afternoon, Mama. I hope I shall come again sooner next time.”
    Caroline blinked and sniffed in a manner she would have abhorred, had she been aware of it.
    “Thank you, my dear,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

Chapter Two
    I T WAS THREE DAYS after this that Charlotte received another letter from Caroline touching on the same subject. This time she did speak of it to Pitt. They were sitting in front of the fire after Jemima had been put to sleep; Charlotte was sewing, and Pitt was gazing into the flames and sinking gently lower and lower into his chair.
    “Thomas.” Charlotte looked up from her work and held the needle in the air.
    He turned his head and hitched himself a little higher before his feet slipped over the fender. The light flickered and jumped warmly in its glowing brass.
    “Yes?”
    “I had a letter from Mama today,” she remarked casually. “She is distressed about the recent loss of a piece of jewelry.”
    His eyes narrowed. He knew Charlotte a great deal better than she suspected.
    “When you say ‘loss,’ I take it you do not mean that she misplaced it?” he inquired.
    Charlotte hesitated. “I’m really not quite sure. She may have.” She picked up her work again to give herself time to arrange her words. She had not expected him to perceive quite so quickly. Actually, she had thought he was very nearly asleep.
    After a moment or two she looked across at him and found his eyes bright and waiting, watching her through his lashes. She took a long breath and abandoned the idea of subtlety.
    “It was a locket and there was a picture of somebody inside it,” she went on. “She would not say who, but I gathered it was someone whose presence she would prefer not to explain.” She smiled a little self-consciously. “Perhaps it was an old love, someone she knew before Papa?”
    He straightened up and took his legs off the fender; his feet were getting hot and he would scorch his slippers if he was not careful.
    “And she thinks someone has taken it?” he asked the obvious.
    “Yes,” Charlotte said. “I think she does.”
    “Any idea who?”
    She shook her head. “If she has, she won’t say so. And of course if she were to report the loss, it would cause far more unpleasantness than even having it returned would be worth.”
    Pitt needed no further