Charlotte House Affair 01 - My Particular Friend

Acknowledgements
    I would like to thank my various proofreaders, including my husband, Jim Bates; my particular friends Lee Thomas and Susan Chandler; fellow Sherlockian Jaime Mahoney; fellow Janeite and JASNA member Maryann O’Brie n ; French Janeite Catherine Godfroid; my sister-in-law, Shel Bates; and my promoters at the Tattered Cover bookstore in Denver, Jackie Blem and Kathleen Schmidt.
    Apologies
    It may be foolish to cast Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s characters of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson as two women in Georgian England, whilst further eschewing zombies, vampires and cross dressing (although I have enjoyed very much stories that incorporated these elements). Women of the time would have been restricted as to what they could do, and I tried to keep those strictures in mind. Thus even though the temptation was great, there are no explosions, sword fights or bare knuckle brawls in these stories. I thought love could provide sufficient danger and excitement.
    I apologize for ransacking Jane Austen, Conan Doyle, P.G. Wodehouse, William Shakespeare, Oscar Wilde, Edmund Blackadder and others, but at least I steal from the best.
    And finally, I apologize for my clumsy American attempt at period punctuation, grammar and spelling.
    Notes on the Period
    This book is set in Bath, England, during the Napoleonic War. George III (the king during the American Revolution) is still on the throne and relatively sane. The Kennet and Avon Canal is not yet completed.
    Notes on the Cover
    The book cover is a photograph of Ralph Allen’s home Prior Park in Bath, looking up from the artificial lakes and the magnificent Palladian bridge, which admittedly serves little purpose other than ornamentation. Twenty-six acres of the estate became the Prior Park Landscape Garden maintained by the National Trust. The buildings are now Prior Park College, a coeducational Catholic senior school.
    Notes on the Royal Crescent and Bath
    The Royal Crescent is a row of 30 connected homes in Bath, England, laid out in a crescent, designed by John Wood the Younger and built between 1767 and 1774. It is a stunning example of Georgian architecture. Many of the homes were let out to visitors who came to Bath for the season. Two of Jane Austen’s novels,
Persuasion
and
Northanger Abbey,
take place in Bath.
    Footnotes
    Throughout the book, you may see this symbol: # , at the end of a paragraph. This will indicate to you that an online footnote exists at www.myparticularfriend.com/?page_id=2523

The Start of the Affair
    Y ou know you’ll never get away with it,’ a soft voice said. I turned with a start toward the voice and saw a tall, elegant woman standing next me, but not facing me. I could not believe it was she who had addressed me, for she seemed solely intent on studying the variety of caps and bonnets before her, but then she said, still not addressing me directly, ‘Those gloves look very nice on you, but not at the cost of the ensuing embarrassment.’
    Then she turned and looked at me and gave me a quick, brilliant smile. She continued in a louder voice: ‘Why don’t you allow me to repay you for the kindness you did me last summer? I insist on buying these for you.’
    She reached for my hands and before I knew her purpose she had removed from my fingers the gloves I wore and draped them over her arm. She then laid her other hand lightly on my arm and moved me toward the counter and what I feared would be the certain accusation of the shopkeeper. I don’t know why I obediently followed her—perhaps I feared a commotion; all I knew was that her will could not be denied.
    ‘Ah, Mr Bruce, don’t you agree these gloves look charming on my friend?’ the woman asked, moving her hand behind my back and encouraging me ever closer to the counter. Only now did I notice the shopkeeper had been looking steadily at me as I approached. But my companion’s address commanded his attention.
    ‘Oh, Miss House, I … of course. You are the arbiter of taste.’ The shopkeeper said, seeming startled. Then a crafty gleam shone in his eyes. ‘Shall I put these on your account?’ #
    My companion laughed lightly and said, ‘Yes, my account, Mr Bruce. By all means, put them on my account. Good day to you, sir.’ She turned quickly, not acknowledging his hasty bow, and immediately placed her hand behind my elbow and moved me to the shop door.
    Once outside she released her hold on me and laughed again. ‘“On my account!” The man is priceless.