Charlotte House Affair 01 - My Particular Friend

happy that you have done so, sir, but he is not my … wait, you said doctor?’
    ‘Yes, formerly he travelled with Colonel William Davis and his regiment, although I think he and the colonel have parted ways.’
    ‘I did not know he was a professional man,’ I said, and then realized I actually knew very little of him ‘How is he?’
    ‘In pain and still a little confused—I did what I could to explain within the bounds of propriety—but happy that he could be of help. He asked of you and said that he would call when you are better.’
    I sat up and said, ‘If you see him next, you could say that I am better.’
    Mr King gasped and I realized the scarf that concealed my neck had slipped. I quickly rearranged it.
    ‘It’s not as bad as it looks.’
    ‘Now this is the real Jane, bravely bearing her injuries. They are rather gruesome, aren’t they?’ Charlotte asked, referring to the bruises about my neck.
    ‘I should have had him beaten. I should have done it myself,’ Mr King said with uncharacteristic vehemence.
    ‘Mr King,’ I said, ‘you have acted very honourably and could not have acquitted yourself better.’
    He stood and gave me a little bow. ‘Thank you, Miss Woodsen. Well, I had best be off and see what else I can do to restore the smooth running of our society.’
    Charlotte saw him out and returned to me. ‘He is a very gallant man, our Mr King, and I think he feels a certain guilt in not seeing the true quality of Mr Hickham.’
    ‘That is not his fault. Many were fooled by the man.’
    Charlotte sat next to me on the sopha and took my hand. ‘I have to tell you Jane that I also have some guilt in this matter.’
    ‘How so?’
    ‘I failed to ensure that you had adequate protection.’
    ‘That is not your fault,’ I said. ‘In the rush of things …’
    ‘No, I knew as we left the ballroom that my plan had a flaw. Deciding at the last moment to use Mr King to delay Mr Hickham meant that there would be no footman. But I had to ensure that Mr Hickham would see Miss Winslowe leave the room and know that she was the author of the letters.’
    ‘Ah,’ I said, ‘I rather noticed the footman’s absence when Mr Hickham entered.’
    ‘And yet you said nothing.’
    ‘Well,
you
said nothing.’
    I heard the door open and Mrs Fitzhugh entered. ‘What is this
tête-à-tête?’
#
    ‘Charlotte was just explaining how she risked my life,’ I said.
    ‘And Jane was just explaining how she let me do it.’
    ‘As long as everyone is in agreement.’
    ‘And how is Miss Winslowe?’ Charlotte asked. Mrs Fitzhugh had gone to see how the other parties in the night’s drama had fared.
    ‘She seems in a fine mood. She said that it feels like a great weight has been lifted and that she can now continue her life.’
    ‘And Mrs Ashby?’ I asked.
    ‘H’m, disappointed. On the one hand, she seems relieved to know that the letters did not reach a wider audience and that her daughter had escaped marriage to such a man.’
    ‘And on the other, she’s upset that a baron’s son has slipped through her fingers,’ Charlotte added.
    Mrs Fitzhugh laughed. ‘Precisely.’
    ‘One cannot blame her. It is her job to see her daughter married and now she must start again. Well, I am off; I must collect Mary and make my calls. Margaret, you will see to our invalid?’
    ‘Of course.’
    Charlotte left and Mrs Fitzhugh attended me, refilling my port and arranging pillows and generally filling my head with pleasantries, until she said, ‘There’s something I think I must tell you, Jane.’
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘Before I do, I must ask whether you are fond of Charlotte.’
    ‘Why yes, very fond. Well, she can be … Charlotte. She can be unkind and she does use people for her own ends. But then she can be very kind and I know she means well.’ I paused and thought more about it before concluding, ‘I think she is the very best friend I have ever known.’
    ‘I had hoped as much. Even though I know her faults, she is as dear to me as if she were my own daughter and I am so happy you are friends.’
    ‘This leads somewhere, does it not?’
    ‘Your meeting with Mrs Danvers; it did not go well.’
    With the excitement of the last few days I had almost forgotten. ‘Yes?’
    ‘I found this in the library.’ She handed me the beginning of a letter that had been discarded because of a large blot of ink caused by a quill splitting. It said:
    Mrs Danvers,
    I am writing you to warn
    I looked at her