Charlotte House Affair 01 - My Particular Friend

Is that not so?’
    I nodded.
    ‘Good. I am Miss Charlotte House and you are Miss …’
    ‘Jane,’ I supplied.
    ‘You are Miss Jane Woodsen. And I watched you come into the shop with a look of resignation on your face that was then replaced by a look of determination. It was writ plain on your face: I must do what I must do. And then you’—she lowered her voice—‘slipped off your gloves and put on the new ones. And you did it remarkably quickly.’
    I nodded again, reliving my crime, this time with the pretence of shame.
    ‘You had obviously practiced. And you kept your back to the counter to block Mr Bruce’s view of what you were doing, which was a good tactic for an amateur. When stealing, I always try to be as brazen faced as possible. But you unconsciously brought up your shoulders to further conceal your activity and that brought you to his attention.’
    ‘That’s amazing,’ I said, a little too loudly, and in a quieter voice, added, ‘you are a professional thief.’
    ‘I am nothing of the kind. Thievery is a mere
peccadillo,
and my, what a fun word that is. And it’s a
peccadillo
that I have found useful from time to time. No, what you see before you is a wealthy—and I am very wealthy—bored, beautiful—and I am very beautiful, am I not—member of the
haut ton.
My brother believes himself someone important in the government while I believe myself someone important in Bath society. And what about you, Miss Woodsen? You are here for the season?’ #
    ‘Me? I am nothing interesting.’
    ‘Oh please, I find you very interesting. You are pretty enough, if in unconventional fashion. Your hair alone deserves comment, it being quite full and lustrous with a curious mixture of hues of black and brown and some red. You spend much time out of doors without a bonnet? Which also explains your unfashionably tanned and ruddy complection. Your hair colour and charming green eyes, with a touch of brown as well I see, hint of a strong Celtic ancestry. You are of less than middling height, which could be improved if you did not slouch, a consequence of too much reading and writing with too little light. Candles are very dear in your home, are they not? But must I continue my conjectures? Do I not merit full disclosure?’
    I dropped my head in shame. ‘Yes, of course,’ I said, looking up. ‘You do. And I am eternally’—she gave me a warning look—‘I am at a low end. My family … my father has … he has died and the estate, what there is of it, goes to my cousin, but because of the entail and my father’s debts, it will prove more burden than boon. There is only my younger sister, Elinor, who is staying with my Aunt Edith in Bishopstone, and myself.’
    ‘And where do you stay in Bath?’
    ‘With other friends, Colonel and Mrs Wallingford. But I fear I have overstayed my welcome with them, now that I am no longer of their station.’
    ‘Your prospects then are bleak?’ she asked.
    ‘It would be charitable to call them bleak. I had come to Bath to gain a position as a governess but have been repeatedly rejected. Nothing discourages an employer more than someone who needs to be employed. I fear I have the stink of poverty.’
    ‘Nonsense, pretty young girl like you. There are many men who would find you … you shake your head.’
    ‘I misled you. My father did not simply die. He killed himself, rather than face the wrath of his creditors, or the humiliation of debtor’s prison. My life is over, Miss House.’ #
    Miss House said nothing while I wiped my tears. After I composed myself, she said, ‘It is a sad story. But I have the cure, or at least a temporary solution. Rid yourself of the accursed Wallingfords and stay with me. Find yourself a husband or a position as a governess. I would recommend against pursuing your career as a thief, however.’

A Singular Woman
    I quickly moved my very few belongings to No. 1 Royal Crescent, which Miss House had rented for the season. I found everyone eager to welcome me, the housekeeper and the servants being very concerned for my comfort. But Miss House was not there to greet me. #
    ‘No miss, she’s away,’ Mary the maid told me, while she saw to my things. ‘She’s off on her calls and was very sorry that she could not be here. But she told us, “Make sure that Miss Woodsen is very comfortable and has everything she needs.” And, of course, we are all delighted that Miss House has some company.’
    ‘Does she have many guests?’