Charlotte House Affair 01 - My Particular Friend

I earnestly wished for her return, hoping that I would find reassurance in the pleasant manner she had earlier shewn me.
    It was not until late that evening, however, that Miss House arrived. I was in my room, reading the Laclos, when I heard a commotion. I hurried downstairs and found my benefactress and another woman in the hall, being attended to by the servants.
    ‘Oh Miss House, you are wet and cold.’
    ‘And hungry, Mary. Ask Mrs Hutton to lay on something substantial, despite the hour.’
    ‘We know your habits by now, miss,’ Mary said, while helping Miss House remove a very travel-stained cloak, to reveal mud-stained skirts. Her companion was equally begrimed.
    Miss House noticed my presence upon the stairs. ‘My dear Miss Woodsen, please forgive me. But as you can see, I’ve been away and busy.’ She gestured to the older woman. ‘And before I forget my manners, I would like you to meet Mrs Fitzhugh, a family friend.’
    We acknowledged each other, and then Mrs Fitzhugh stepped toward me. I could see that though she was older than Miss House, neither her dark hair nor her cheerful smile betrayed her age. ‘Miss Woodsen, it is a pleasure to meet you. Miss House has told me all about you.’ As she spoke, she took my hand in hers.
    ‘The pleasure is mine as well,’ I said, overcome by the warmth of her greeting.
    Freed of her travelling clothes, Miss House joined us. ‘Miss Woodsen, I apologize for not greeting you on your arrival, and I hope Mary has not been horrible to you and has not put you in some dank room.’ She flashed Mary a smile, who quickly cast down her eyes while lifting the corners of her mouth.
    ‘No, Miss House, Mary and everyone in this household have shown me the greatest kindness.’
    ‘I am glad of it. Now please forgive me while I change, and although you’ve doubtless already dined, would you join me later while I do so?’
    ‘Of course, it would be my pleasure.’
    ‘Good,’ she said, and then rushed up the stairs, leaving me behind. I looked at Mrs Fitzhugh and Mary, still holding her mistress’s cloak.
    ‘She does leave one rather breathless,’ I said softly to myself.
    Mary nodded and said, ‘An’t it wonderful, miss?’
    Mrs Fitzhugh also left, and I retired to the drawing-room to wait what I thought would be a considerable time while they composed themselves, but it seemed only minutes before Miss House joined me, dressed like a lady who had spent the entire day doing nothing more exhausting than answering her correspondence.
    ‘Mrs Fitzhugh does not join us?’ I asked.
    ‘No, she’s rather tired after our labours, and she also had the wisdom to eat; while I can never suffer food when travelling.’
    We went into the dining room where we found a meal sufficient for an army awaiting Miss House. I limited myself to tea while she attacked a cold roast.
    ‘Pardon my manners, Miss Woodsen, I am famished. I can’t remember when last I ate.’
    ‘You have been travelling this whole time?’
    ‘Yes, my enquiries led me to Bristol.’
    ‘Bristol!’ I said, intrigued. ‘Whatever could take you to Bristol?’ I had assumed she was about Bath. #
    She stopped eating and looked at me intently.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It is none of my business.’
    ‘No, no, I like your directness. Perhaps I’ll tell you of my business in Bristol someday. Why don’t you tell me instead how you find the house?’
    I told her that I found my situation agreeable, without mentioning the feelings I had experienced in the library.
    ‘Then everything is to your liking? Your room?’
    ‘Yes, of course, it is more than I could have hoped. I have never slept in such a bed.’
    ‘I hope you felt free to have the run of the place. There is an excellent library.’
    I nodded.
    ‘And when you saw the clipping on the death of your father?’
    I froze and for a space said nothing. ‘How did you know I had seen it?’
    ‘Before I joined you, I looked into the library and saw the Laclos was missing. You’ll find it an enjoyable read. And I ask again, what did you think when you saw the clipping?’
    ‘I confess I did not know what to think,’ I said, trying to hide my discomfort by lifting my cup.
    ‘You did not think yourself a butterfly pinned to a collection?’
    I spilled my tea and I fear I stared at her open mouthed. She laughed.
    ‘Oh Miss Woodsen, I am sorry. It was a guess and I did not think it would affect you so strongly. You are the victim of my machinations.