Authors: Emma Newman
The house interior was pleasant enough with black and white chequered tiles on the floor and portraits hung on the walls. She noticed one of a man who looked just like Freddy, so much so that she wondered if it was him, but the woman standing next to him in the painting didn’t look anything like Georgiana. There were, unsurprisingly, vases of violets on pedestals and little tables that smelt of summer and made her long for blue sky again.
Charlotte Viola came to the main doors leading off the lobby. She was indeed beautiful, strikingly so, with high cheekbones and flawless skin. She appeared to be in her late twenties but Cathy had no idea what her real age was. Her brown hair was arranged in the classical Greek style and her dress was Empire line, making her look like she’d stepped out of the Regency. It bothered Cathy that she was noticing these things. Dame Iris had clearly infected her thinking.
“Your Grace,” Charlotte said and gave a deep, elegant curtsy. “It’s a pleasure and an honour to welcome you to our home.”
Cathy’s hand twitched as she almost gave an uncertain wave. Instead she inclined her head and smiled, just as she’d been taught the day before the Court. She felt like a fraud. “Thank you. And please call me Cath… erine.”
“And, of course, please call me Charlotte. Would you like to come through to my drawing room?”
“I’m sorry about the short notice,” Cathy said.
“Oh, it’s no bother at all,” Charlotte replied. “Quite the contrary. I’m afraid my husband had a prior engagement and wasn’t here when your message arrived.”
That suited her just fine. Cathy glanced behind her, suspecting that Carter was about to follow her in. “You can wait outside, Carter.”
“But–”
She glared at him and he backed down. She couldn’t remember that ever working on anyone before. She followed Charlotte into a richly furnished drawing room with a cheerful fire and a table already laid out for tea. The butler closed the door behind them. There was an embroidery frame in the corner with a partially completed country garden design. It seemed that women kept in the Nether developed a passion for embroidering and sewing the things they could no longer enjoy in Mundanus.
“Do you like to embroider?” Charlotte asked, having noticed Cathy’s attention.
“No,” Cathy said as she sat. “I’m not nearly as gifted as you.”
“I find it passes the time so pleasantly,” Charlotte said. “Would you care for a cup of tea?”
Cathy nodded. Charlotte wasn’t what she’d expected, but she wasn’t even sure what that had been. Someone more like Miss Rainer? She reminded herself to be patient. Charlotte was hardly to going to open the conversational dance with an observation about the subjugation of women in society.
“May I compliment you on your dress,” Charlotte said as she handed over the tea. The cup and saucer were the typical dainty porcelain favoured in Society, with tiny violets incorporated into the design. “It’s such a beautiful colour.”
Cathy sipped the tea after an embarrassed smile. Small talk was still agonising, even when she was trying instead of daydreaming herself away from it. Charlotte served sandwiches and cake as Cathy struggled to think of a way to talk about something worthwhile.
“How are you finding Londinium?” Charlotte asked. “I understand it’s quite different to Aquae Sulis.”
“It is,” Cathy said after hurriedly swallowing a mouthful. She felt the lump moving towards her stomach and fought the desire to belch. “Have you been to Aquae Sulis?”
“Sadly not.”
The crackling of the fire filled the room as they both sipped and took dainty bites. Cathy put her teacup down, determined to end the agony. “I wanted to speak to you about Miss Rainer.”
“Oh!” Charlotte’s face became radiant with happiness. “Miss Rainer is an excellent governess. She taught my daughter and son.”
“Yes, she taught me too,” Cathy shifted to the edge of her seat now she was on topic.
“How splendid,” Charlotte said.
“She taught me very well. I understand you were the one who… made her into a governess?”
Charlotte’s smile lingered and she seemed to be searching for words. “Miss Rainer is a very intelligent woman.”
“Is that why you suggested she change career?”
“She was a superlative lady’s maid too,” Charlotte said. “However, she excelled in her later role. She was so passionate about things that matter.”
Cathy paused. She had the impression she was having a conversation slightly out of sync. Was Charlotte trying to tell her she knew about what Miss Rainer used to teach but didn’t feel safe enough to say it to her directly? “Have you been in touch with her lately?”
“I understand she’s been very successful and taught in many households since she was here, thanks to my recommendation.”
Why hadn’t she answered the question? “I saw her, only a few weeks ago, and something terrible has happened to her.”
Charlotte’s smile was rapidly replaced by concern. Cathy could see there was something else… fear?
“She’s a scullery maid now,” she continued. “And she isn’t herself at all, it’s like someone sucked out her personality and replaced it with a job description.”
Charlotte’s eyes became round and she looked away, her cup rattling in the saucer, but she still didn’t say anything.
Cathy was losing her patience. Just because she was the Duchess it didn’t mean they couldn’t talk properly. “I think the Agency did something to her because my parents reported her unorthodox lessons.”
“Miss Rainer was a superlative teacher who gave only the best lessons,” Charlotte said with a voice suddenly bright and cheerful.
Cathy frowned. “Please, can’t we speak candidly? I know I’m the Duchess but you don’t have to be afraid of talking to me about this.” Charlotte remained silent but was still unable to meet Cathy’s eyes. Cathy lowered her voice, in case the servants were listening in, ready to report back to Bennet. “Don’t you understand? I think the Agency did something terrible to Miss Rainer because she was teaching me about equal rights for women, the Suffragettes and Peterloo and all the other things we’re not supposed to be taught. The people who run the Agency are… are…”
She couldn’t find the right words. What were they doing? Removing a problem reported by important clients or participating in a wider conspiracy against women? Was she mad to even consider the latter? Bennet had blackmailed her because she’d caused problems, not because of her sex.
“The Agency are always so helpful and are marvellous at providing just the right staff.” Charlotte’s cheerful voice made Cathy feel nervous.
“Are you afraid that something you say to me will get back to your husband?”
Charlotte took a deep breath and seemed to force herself to look Cathy in the eye. “My husband is a very powerful man. He always gets what he wants because he’s so clever and resourceful.”
Cathy shivered. “Did he do something to you?”
Charlotte looked away. “My husband is absolutely devoted to me.”
“Oh, bollocks,” Cathy muttered beneath her breath. “He’s put a curse on you, hasn’t he?”
Charlotte giggled and covered her mouth with a shaking hand as if Cathy had told a silly joke.
“Is there anything at all you can tell me about Miss Rainer? Did you realise she was special and help her get out of the Nether as much as possible by being a governess? Is that why you did it?”
Charlotte stared down into her teacup. “It’s so lovely that we have someone so special in common,” she said, the cheerfulness switched back on like a sprite’s glow after a hammer had struck the globe. “Would you like to see where she used to teach my children? It was such a happy time.”
Cathy hoped this was a ploy to get them somewhere more private, or perhaps into Mundanus. Maybe the curse she’d been put under only worked in certain circumstances. “I’d like that very much.”
Charlotte put her teacup back very delicately and as they both stood she reached across and caught hold of Cathy’s hands. “I’m so delighted you came to see me. And I would be so very happy if we could be friends.”
There was an intensity in her eyes as she spoke and it moved Cathy to squeeze her hands back. “So am I. And I would like that too. I have a feeling that I could be friends with anyone who knew Miss Rainer well.”
“She is very talented,” Charlotte said. “She always had a knack for working out who could be a good friend.”
Charlotte led her out. Before Carter moved, Cathy ordered him to stay put and followed Charlotte up a wide staircase, both of them looked down on by dozens of portraits as they climbed. They passed a maid who bobbed a curtsy and hurried away. Clearly they hadn’t expected the mistress of the house to take the Duchess on an impromptu tour.
“Miss Rainer was such a valued member of the household,” Charlotte said when they reached the top floor. “Come and see how neatly she kept her old room. It hasn’t changed since she left.”
She opened the door of a room next to the green baize door that would lead out to the nursery wing. It seemed Charlotte didn’t want to take her out into Mundanus.
The room was quite large and had several empty bookshelves. There was a single bed stripped of its linens and the personal effects were gone from the dressing table. Charlotte closed the door behind them as Cathy scanned the room, looking for anything unusual.
“Miss Rainer was such a neat person – we could always rely on her,” Charlotte said, crouching down by the rug at the centre of the room. She flipped the corner over and revealed the joint between two floorboards. Cathy knelt down next to her. “She was always so particular about everything having its place, even this rug.”
Charlotte was looking at what Cathy had thought was a knot in the wood but on closer inspection its edges were too uniform. It was a diamond-shaped hole between the two floorboards, large enough to put a finger into. She reached towards it, glancing at Charlotte for any protest and finding she was smiling at her, then tucked her finger into the hole. The section of board closest to her was easy to pull up, revealing a cavity underneath. There was nothing there.
“She packed everything so neatly too,” Charlotte said. “I’m sure all of her other rooms were kept just as beautifully.”
Cathy had a sudden memory of Rainer outside the house the last time she saw her and the diamond-shaped scar on her thigh. She’d spoken about something important in the floor. She snapped her fingers. “The floor in her old room! At my parents’ house! That’s what she was trying to tell me! They had her taken away so quickly she didn’t even have a chance to pack. I bet whatever it is she used to hide is still there!”
Charlotte beamed and put the wood and rug back into place. “It’s so amazing, the effect a good teacher can have.”
“It really is,” Cathy said. She frowned at Charlotte, trying to work out the nature of the curse. If she knew exactly what it did, she could see if the Shopkeeper had something to break it. “I don’t suppose you can tell me anything about the curse you’ve been placed under.”
Charlotte giggled and covered her mouth in the same way as before. The curse was so powerful she looked genuinely amused, even though she must be raging inside.
“I’ll work it out and I’ll find a way to have it broken, I promise,” Cathy said. “I’d like to have a real conversation with you.”
“It’s a deep pleasure to be able to talk with you,” Charlotte replied. “I do hope we can do so again.”
They said their goodbyes once they were downstairs and Cathy got back into the carriage with Carter. “Change of plan,” she said as she waved goodbye. “We’re going to Aquae Sulis. To my parents’ house.”
“As you wish, your Grace.”
She settled back in the seat and thought about how much Charlotte had been able to convey despite the odd conversation. She hoped Miss Rainer’s room was still relatively untouched and tried to imagine stepping foot in that house again. She’d hoped she’d never have to go back there; it held too many awful memories. Even though there had been the beginning of an understanding between her and her father on her wedding day it wasn’t enough to quell the dread of seeing him again on home territory. She looked at Carter, who smiled back at her. At least this time there would be no fear of being beaten.
13
Sam had opened the envelope in the entrance to the forge. After building himself up to it for days it had been an anticlimax. He’d expected a more personal letter from Leanne but there was just a small key and an address for a bank with a contact person. On the back of the piece of paper was something more cryptic, in her handwriting, saying “The lady will want to know where you proposed to me and the gift I gave you on our wedding day before she gives you access to the box.”
He assumed it was a safety deposit box key. The security questions were surprisingly sentimental for Leanne but at least he knew the answers to them. Mr Ferran was away again and it was simply a matter of asking the butler to arrange a car so he could go back to Bath. He’d had a hire car in mind but wasn’t surprised when the chauffeur-driven limousine arrived.
He found the right person at the bank and when he showed her the key she seemed to know that Leanne had died. Condolences were offered, he answered her questions and then was taken to a room away from the public areas, full of deposit boxes. He wondered what was kept in the others as his was unlocked. Stolen diamonds? Wills written by paranoid millionaires? He didn’t want to think about what would be in Leanne’s.
The banker put the box on a small table and left him to remove the contents alone. He took a deep breath and lifted the top, finding another envelope inside with his name on it.
It contained a short note, a plastic keycard and an address for a storage company, the kind of place that had different-sized lockers for hire.
Dear Sam,
Sorry to make you run around like this, but it’s necessary. Only you would know the answers to the security questions so I know it’s you reading this and I know I must be dead. I hope you’re all right. Everything you need to know about is at the storage place. When you go make sure you’re alone and that no one else knows where you’re going and why. That’s really important, darling.