The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth

by Callie Hutton

  “Good evening, Mrs. Pennyworth.” He gave her a slight bow and took her extended hand. “You are looking lovely this evening, as always.”

  For goodness sake, she felt a blush begin in her middle and rise all the way to her face. “Thank you, Mr. Baker. You are looking quite well, yourself. I assume your arm has continued to heal?”

  “Yes.” He rotated his arm. “Still a bit sore, but otherwise, I am as good as new.” He took her coat from Thomas and held it out for her. Feeling like a young miss on her first outing with a man, she stifled a giggle and turned to allow him to assist her into the garment.

  Elliot extended his arm. “Shall we be off?”

  The ride to the assembly was quite pleasant, with them chatting about recent events in the newspaper.

  “One story that did not make the newspapers, took place in my office.”

  Charlotte offered him an encouraging smile. “Oh?”

  “A woman made an appointment for this morning. She told my secretary she wished to draw up a will. When she arrived, it was with a great deal of pomp and circumstance. She brought a maid and footman with her, who held four dogs on their laps. The woman requested tea even before she sat down and had me rearrange the chairs in my office to suit what she said was a ‘more pleasant arrangement.’”

  “Well, that was pretty pretentious of her.”

  “The best is yet to come.” He rested his foot on his knee, his grin growing wider. “She apparently had a great deal of money. We went through the usual procedure of to whom she wanted to leave various items. When we reached her—considerable—fortune, she handed me a list of names.

  “Client confidentiality prohibits me from stating the names, but there were seven first and last names. All the last names were the same as hers, so I assumed they were siblings, or perhaps children.”

  The assembly rooms rose out of the mist, the lights from inside the building casting a glow on the carriages that stopped to discharge passengers. “You must finish your story. The humor in your eyes tells me there is something very funny about this.”

  “Indeed. When I questioned her further, it turned out the seven heirs to her fortune were dogs.”

  “Dogs?”

  “Yes, dogs. The four who had accompanied her to my office, along with three others she told me were at home, not enjoying travel as much.”

  Charlotte burst out laughing, thinking how she had missed him, and how entertaining he could be. They both laughed so hard, they could hardly catch their breath.

  Once their vehicle came to a stop, a footman hired for the evening to assist the guests opened the door to the carriage. Elliot stepped out first and nudged the man aside, so he could help Charlotte out. She smiled to herself at the glare he sent the footman, who backed away, and returned to his post at the door.

  It felt good to be out and about once again. She found it amusing that she’d attended numerous events by herself before Elliot had come into her life, yet she had refused two invitations since he’d gone back to his rooms, because she had not wanted to attend alone. As they reached the doorway, it occurred to her that she would not see Mr. Talbot here. She sighed, again feeling conflicted at the loss of her friend. A quick glance around the room told her Miss Garvey was absent, as well. Perhaps they would not see her again, either, since Mr. Talbot had seemed to be her only close friend.

  “Is everything all right?” Elliot leaned down and spoke quietly into her ear. “You seem somewhat saddened.”

  She shook off her malaise. “Yes, everything is fine.” Offering him a bright smile, she walked with him into the room, greeting friends she hadn’t seen since the funeral. A trio of musicians finished tuning up, and the master of ceremonies announced the first set, a cotillion. She and Elliot joined the line of dancers.

  Once they returned from the rigors of the dance, Elliot fetched her a lemonade, and Lord Monroe approached her to request a dance. She reached out to take the glass from Elliot, as he bent toward her. “Save at least one waltz for me.”

  She grinned and waved her dance card at him. “Just pick one.”

  A list of the dances that would be played throughout the evening was printed on her dance card, along with a space for a gentleman to write his name. Elliot picked the supper waltz, scrawled his name there with the small pencil attached to the card and winked at her. “I will see you later.”

  He strolled away, stopping a couple of women, and writing his name on their cards. It amazed her how annoyed she felt when one of them batted her eyes at him. Mr. Glenmoor stepped up and requested a dance, and she walked to the line of dancers on his arm, all the time watching Elliot make his way around the room, chatting, and requesting dances.

  …

  Elliot tried his best to pay attention to Miss Chalvers, whom he was partnering in the quadrille. The woman relentlessly chatted on about nonsense to the point that he blocked out the sound of her voice, and instead let his eyes wander toward Charlotte. After this set, the supper waltz was next, and he could not wait to hold her in his arms.

  He’d missed her almost to distraction in the week they’d been separated. He’d had, as he’d told her, work that needed his attention. The time chasing down Talbot, and then recovering from the attack, and then the gunshot wound, had put him far behind in his law practice.

  Several times over the past couple of years he’d considered dropping the investigation part of his business. His legal work was taking up more time each month, and it was far less dangerous. But, after his years in police work, he had enjoyed the investigatory part of his business, and had been reluctant to relinquish it.

  Thankfully, the quadrille came to an end, and he escorted Miss Chalvers back to her mother and wended his way through the crowd to Charlotte. Mr. Jones-Smith was just returning her to a group of her friends when he reached her. “You seem a bit flushed. Would you care for a stroll on the patio before the next dance?”

  Charlotte waved her fan in her face. “Yes, that would be pleasant. It is warm in here.” After a slight nod to the ladies she was speaking with, he extended his arm, and she walked with him through the throng and out the French doors to the patio.

  “Ah, this feels much better. I was really quite warm.” Charlotte took in a deep breath of air.

  “It’s stuffy in there, but you must be careful because it is chilly out here in the night air.”

  When Charlotte had joined him in her entrance hall earlier, he’d decided that whatever it took, he would have her consent to his marriage proposal.

  Once they had entered the carriage, he’d vowed to press his suit that very night. Now that the problem of the gruesome packages had been solved, he wanted to move forward with his life.

  With Charlotte.

  “It feels odd to be at one of these events and not see Mr. Talbot across the room, chatting away with someone.” Charlotte sighed. “I still have a hard time with it.”

  Elliot took her hand in his, interlacing her fingers. “We never truly know anyone, sweetheart. Talbot had some sort of obsession that manifested itself in leaving things for you.”

  “But why dead animals?”

  He shrugged. “I’m afraid we will never know. But it is best if you put it all behind you.”

  The musicians started up the waltz, and he turned to her. “My dance, I believe?”

  They returned to the room, and he swept her into his arms. This was precisely where he wanted Charlotte. They obviously suited. In every way.

  The dance did not last long enough for his liking, and he released her with reluctance, but he had the privilege of escorting her into supper. The tables were set with platters of cold meats, bread, cheese, soups, and jellies. A separate table held sweets and fruit.

  He filled two plates and made his way through the crowd to where Charlotte sat, conversing with Lord and Lady Monroe. Once again, his heart lifted at the sight of her. Yes, he was in love. Perhaps foolishly, but nevertheless, there it was. She was his.

  Once he placed the plate in
front of her, he settled next to her and waved to a footman to bring them drinks. Unfortunately, at the assemblies no alcohol was served, so he had to imbibe warm lemonade.

  “Mr. Baker, I was just telling Mrs. Pennyworth about the new art collection that has arrived at the museum. I am sure the both of you would enjoy viewing it.”

  Elliot looked at Charlotte. “Would you care to go??

  “Yes, I believe I would.”

  “Excellent. Perhaps the four of us can take the trip there. I haven’t been there yet, myself, but I hear it is spectacular.” Lord Monroe leaned forward, the enthusiasm in his voice contagious.

  Elliot hadn’t delved much into the art world, since it had never been one of his favorite types of activities. However, when he had escorted Charlotte, he’d discovered that it was rather interesting, and not at all as tiresome as he’d assumed.

  “Shall we say Thursday, next, then?” Lady Monroe beamed at the two of them.

  Elliot turned to Charlotte. “Is that acceptable to you?”

  She nodded, and the date was set. They continued to chat amicably until the musicians started up again. He leaned toward her. “Do you wish to continue with the dance, or would you prefer to return home?”

  …

  Charlotte considered Elliot’s words. In truth, she was not very tired, but she did want some time alone with him. Would he repeat his proposal?

  “Yes, I am feeling a bit weary. Perhaps we should take our leave.”

  Elliot stood and pulled out Charlotte’s chair. “If you will excuse us, my lord, my lady, Mrs. Pennyworth and I are making an early night of it.”

  “Yes, of course. You do look a bit peaked, my dear.” Lady Monroe smiled fondly at Charlotte. “I will see you both Thursday next for our jaunt to the art museum. I will send around a note with the time we can meet up.”

  Once in the carriage, Elliot began, “I would like a few words with you once we arrive at your home, or are you truly feeling fatigued?”

  “A bit, but certainly not enough to retire just yet. I could use a sherry to finish out the night.”

  Elliot nodded, and Charlotte gazed out at the passing streetlights that appeared in the mist. Elliot seemed so grim. Had he changed his mind about them, and was not looking forward to telling her goodbye?

  Once they arrived at her home, they gave their coats to Thomas and moved to the library. Elliot poured their drinks and walked toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. He handed her the glass and sat. After they both took a sip, he removed the glass from her hand, and placed both glasses on the small table in front of the settee.

  Taking her hand in his, he kissed her knuckles, then cleared his throat. By the time he began to speak, Charlotte’s heart was pounding so hard that she thought, surely, he must hear it.

  “Charlotte, I asked you this once before, and I’ve yet to receive an answer. I understand other matters have gotten in the way, and then I was busy catching up on work that I’d been neglecting. But the time has come to be straightforward.”

  He went down on one knee and took both her hands. “I would like to offer you a life as your husband that I promise will not be perfect, but if you agree to become my wife, I will make sure you never want for anything. I am reasonably young, healthy, and earn a good living. I want you more than any woman I’ve ever met, and I intend to be a good, faithful husband. And I love you.” He tilted his head to one side and smiled a crooked smile. “Will you marry me?”

  Tears filled her eyes, and she was finding it hard to breathe. This was what she had hoped he would say, and she was very sure of her answer. “Yes, Elliot. I will marry you. And I love you, too.”

  His crooked smile turned into a grin, giving him a boyish look. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small box. He opened it to reveal a beautiful diamond ring. He slipped it onto her finger, and amazingly enough, it fit perfectly. “Can I get up now?”

  Charlotte burst out laughing. “Yes, you may rise.”

  Elliot stood and pulled her up and into his arms. His mouth covered hers with a tenderness that soon turned to a burning possession that completely consumed him.

  “I want to scoop you up and take you upstairs and make love to you until neither of us can walk, but I do not want my future wife’s reputation sullied. I will have the banns called starting this Sunday, so we can plan on a wedding in three weeks.”

  Charlotte laughed at his worry about her reputation. On the other hand, she found it endearing, and knew he was correct. With him no longer needing to recover from his injury, staying at her house all night would be improper. She walked with him to the door and accepted a chaste kiss after Thomas helped Elliot into his coat.

  Once he was gone and on his way, Charlotte drifted upstairs, thinking about weddings, flowers, churches, marriage, and a life she never thought to have again once Gabriel had died.

  After a good night’s sleep, Charlotte stayed in bed for a while admiring her ring. She finally rose, washed, and dressed for the day. The sun shone brightly, mimicking her mood. Truth be known, she was still concerned about Elliot’s work as an investigator, but hopefully, his law practice, which he admitted was growing, might keep him too busy to take on dangerous assignments.

  She broke her fast with a boiled egg, toast, and an orange, then settled behind her desk in the drawing room to take care of correspondence that had piled up. Once that had been completed, she stood and stretched. A walk in the park would be a good idea. It wasn’t often that London had such a bright day, and she did not want to waste it.

  “Going for a walk, ma’am?” Thomas greeted her as she approached the door, pulling on her gloves.

  “Yes, indeed. The weather today is much too fine to stay indoors. Winter is coming, and once it is upon us, we will be stuck indoors more often than not.”

  He smiled and bowed slightly as he opened the door. Charlotte stepped out, and something at her feet caught her eye. She glanced down at one of her gloves. How odd, it was indeed her white satin glove, and strangely enough, it was the one that had gone missing a few weeks ago.

  She bent to retrieve it, frowning at the heaviness of the glove. It felt stiff, and bulky. The skin on the back of her neck tingled as she turned it over and examined the open end of it. She dropped it like a hot coal and screamed. Over and over she screamed, and backed up.

  “Mrs. Pennyworth, whatever is the matter?” Thomas’s voice cut through her cry. She turned to him and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She felt Thomas grab her around the waist as darkness surrounded her, and she slipped to the ground.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Elliot looked up from his paperwork as the wood and glass door to his office flew open and banged against the wall. Bridget stood there, her eyes wild. “Mr. Baker, please. You must come. Quickly.”

  Good God, had something happened to Charlotte? He stood and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. “What happened?”

  He rounded his desk and sprinted to the door. The poor girl could hardly catch her breath as she waved him to Charlotte’s carriage, standing at the edge of the pavement in front of his office building. “It’s Mrs. Pennyworth.” She gulped as they climbed into the carriage, Bones snapped the reins, and the horses took off before the door was even closed all the way.

  His heart was in his throat as he watched the girl attempt to speak. Had Charlotte fallen? Was she gravely injured? Was she dead? The last thought hit him like a sledgehammer, taking all the breath from his body. “Calm down, Bridget. Tell me what’s happened.”

  “Mrs. Pennyworth got another of those things on the front steps.” She twisted her fingers in her skirts, her eyes pale, the freckles on her face standing out. “But this one was horrible.”

  Another package? That was the last thing he expected to hear. Talbot was dead. Unless before he’d died he’d left instructions for something to be left there. “What was the package, Bridget?”

  “Oh, sir, I can’t even say.” She burst into tears and dropped her head int
o her lap.

  He obviously was not going to get any further information from the maid. The girl was beyond distraught. He had to know one more thing. “Has Mrs. Pennyworth been harmed?”

  She shook her head and continued to cry into her skirts.

  Elliot tapped his thigh and stared out the window, feeling as though he should just leave the carriage behind and run to her house. Every minute it took Bones to get them there brought up a new image of the horror to which Charlotte had been subjected.

  Finally, they reached the block her townhouse was located on, and Elliot rapped on the roof. Before the coach came to a complete stop, he opened the door and raced down the pavement, and took the stairs to her door two at a time.

  Thomas, who must have been watching for him, opened the door as Elliot’s foot hit the top step. “Oh, thank goodness you are here, sir. Mrs. Pennyworth is extremely overset.”

  “Where is she?”

  “In her sitting room, upstairs. Beatrice attempted to give her a tisane, but she refused.”

  “Thank you.” He bolted up the stairs and burst into her room. Charlotte turned and gasped. “Elliot.” She flew across the room into his arms, almost knocking him off his feet.

  His thudding heart slowed when he saw she was well. Yes, she was extremely agitated, but she did not appear to have any injuries, which eased his mind somewhat. “Charlotte, you must calm down, so you can tell me what’s happened. Bridget was of no use whatsoever.”

  She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “Another package.” Her voice shook, and he feared she might faint. “How can that be?”

  “Come, let’s go downstairs to the drawing room and get you a bit of sherry to drink.”

  “Brandy, I think,” she said. “A double.”

  Once they were settled on the settee with drinks in their hands, Elliot placed his hand over hers. “Tell me what happened.”

  Charlotte took a rather large sip of brandy, coughed for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I had intended to go for a walk since it is so very nice outside today. We won’t have many more days like this one, you know. With winter coming, we will soon be unable—”