Charlotte looked at the drawn curtains, the pale design of flowers on the carpet. ‘He came again yesterday evening,’ she said quietly, ‘and stayed for much longer.’
Vespasia’s voice changed almost imperceptibly. ‘Indeed?’
Charlotte raised her eyes to meet Vespasia’s. ‘There appears to have been a conspiracy within Special Branch to make it look as if he embezzled a good deal of money.’ She saw Vespasia’s look of disbelief. ‘They have dismissed him, right there on the spot.’
‘Oh dear,’ Vespasia said with infinite shades of meaning. ‘I see why you are distressed. This is very serious indeed. Victor may have his faults, but financial dishonesty is not one of them. Money does not interest him. He would not even be tempted to do such a thing.’
Charlotte did not find that comforting. What faults was Vespasia implying that Narraway did possess? It seemed she knew him better than Charlotte had appreciated, even though Vespasia had interested herself in many of Pitt’s cases, and therefore of Narraway’s.Then the moment after, studying Vespasia’s expression, Charlotte realised that Vespasia was deeply concerned for him, and that she believed what he had said.
Charlotte found the tension in her body easing and she smiled. ‘I did not believe it of him either, but there is something in the past that troubles him very much.’
‘There will be a good deal,’ Vespasia said with the ghost of a smile. ‘He is a man of many sides, but the most vulnerable one is his work, because that is what he cares about.’
‘Then he wouldn’t jeopardise it, would he?’ Charlotte pointed out.
‘No. Someone finds it imperative that Victor Narraway be driven out of office, and out of credit with Her Majesty’s government. There are many possible reasons, and I have no idea which of them it is, so I have very little idea where to begin.’
‘We have to help him.’ Charlotte hated asking this of Vespasia, but the need was greater than the reluctance. ‘Not only for his sake, but for Thomas’s. In Special Branch Thomas is regarded as Mr Narraway’s man. I know this because, apart from my own sense, Thomas has told me so himself, and so has Mr Narraway. Aunt Vespasia, if Mr Narraway is gone, then whoever got rid of him may very well try to get rid of Thomas too-’
‘Of course,’ Vespasia cut across her. ‘You do not need to explain it to me, my dear. And Thomas is in France, not knowing what has happened, or that Victor can no longer give him the support from London that he needs.’
‘Have you friends-’ Charlotte began.
‘I do not know who has done this, or why,’ Vespasia answered even before the question was finished. ‘So I do not know whom I can trust.’
‘Victor. . Mr Narraway. .’ Charlotte felt a faint heat in her cheeks, ‘. . said he believed it was an old case in Ireland, twenty years ago, for which someone now seeks revenge. He didn’t tell me much about it. I think it embarrassed him.’
‘No doubt.’ Vespasia allowed a bleak spark of humour into her eyes for an instant. ‘Twenty years ago? Why now? The Irish are good at holding a grudge, or a favour, but they don’t wait on payment if they don’t have to.’
‘“Revenge is a dish best served cold”?’ Charlotte suggested wryly.
‘Cold, perhaps, my dear, but this would be frozen. There is more to it than a personal vengeance, but I do not know what. By the way, what has this to do with your maid leaving? Clearly there is something you have. . forgotten. . to tell me.’
Charlotte found herself uncomfortable. Had Vespasia been less gentle, or less obviously afraid, she would have been angry.
‘Oh, Mr Narraway called after dark, and since the matter was of secrecy, for obvious reasons, he closed the parlour door. I’m afraid Mrs Waterman thought I was — am — a woman of dubious morals. She doesn’t feel she can remain in a household where the mistress has “goings-on”, as she put it.’
‘Then she is going to find herself considerably restricted in her choice of position,’ Vespasia said waspishly. ‘Especially if her disapproval extends to the master as well.’
‘She didn’t say.’ Charlotte bit her lip, but couldn’t conceal her smile. ‘But she would be utterly scandalised, so much so that she might have left that night, out into the street alone, with her suitcase in her hand, if she had known that I promised Mr Narraway that I would go to Ireland with him, to do whatever I can to find the truth and help him clear his name. I have to. His enemies are Thomas’s enemies, and Thomas will have no defence against them without Mr Narraway there. Then what shall we do?’
Vespasia was silent for several moments. ‘Be very careful, Charlotte,’ she said gravely. ‘I think you are unaware of how dangerous that could become.’
Charlotte clenched her hands. ‘What would you have me do? Sit here in London while Mr Narraway is unjustly ruined, and then wait for Thomas to be ruined as well? At best he will be dismissed because he was Mr Narraway’s man, and they don’t like him. At worst he may be implicated in the same embezzlement, and end up charged with theft.’ Her voice cracked a little and she realised how tired she was, and how very frightened. ‘What would you do?’
Vespasia reached across and touched her hand very gently, just fingertip to fingertip. ‘The same as you, my dear. That’s not the same thing as saying that it is wise. It is simply the only choice you can live with.’
There was a tap on the door, and the maid announced that supper was ready. They ate in the small breakfast room. Slender-legged Georgian mahogany furniture glowed dark amid golden yellow walls, as if they were dining in the sunset, although the curtains were closed and the only light came from the gas brackets on the walls.
Charlotte and Vespasia did not resume the more serious conversation until they had returned to the sitting room and were assured of being uninterrupted.
‘Do not forget for a moment that you are in Ireland,’ Vespasia warned. ‘Or imagine it is the same as England. It is not. They wear their past more closely wound around themselves than we do. Enjoy it while you are there, but don’t let your guard down for a second. They say you need a long spoon to sup with the devil. Well, you need a strong head to dine with the Irish. They’ll charm the wits out of you, if you let them.’
‘I won’t forget why I’m there,’ Charlotte promised.
‘Or that Victor knows Ireland very well, and the Irish also know him?’ Vespasia added. ‘Do not underestimate his intelligence, Charlotte, or his vulnerability. By the way, you have not mentioned how you intend to carry this off without causing a scandal that might damage Narraway’s good name further, but would certainly ruin yours. I assume your sense of fear and injustice did not blind you to that?’ There was no criticism in her voice, only concern.
Charlotte felt the blood hot in her face. ‘Of course I have. I can’t take a maid — I don’t have one, or the money to pay her fare if I did. I am going to say I am Mr Narraway’s sister — half-sister. That will make it decent enough.’
A tiny smile touched the corners of Vespasia’s lips. ‘Then you had better stop calling him “Mr Narraway” and learn to use his given name, or you will certainly raise eyebrows.’ She hesitated. ‘Or perhaps you already do.’
Charlotte looked into Vespasia’s steady silver-grey eyes, and chose not to elaborate.
Narraway came early the following morning in a hansom cab. When Charlotte answered the door he hesitated only momentarily. He did not ask her if she were certain of the decision. Perhaps he did not want to give her the chance to waver. He called the cab driver to put her case on the luggage rack.
‘Do you wish to go and say goodbye?’ he asked her. His face looked bleak, with shadows under his eyes as if he had not slept in many nights. ‘There is time.’
‘No thank you,’ she answered. ‘I have already done so. And I hate long goodbyes. I am quite ready to go.’
He nodded and walked behind her across the footpath. Then he handed her up onto the seat, going round to the other side to sit next to her. The cabby apparently knew the destination.