Charlotte House Affair 01 - My Particular Friend

is the smartest person I have ever met. She has no doubt already used her considerable talents to find some way to overcome these objections.’
    Alas, my efforts to improve their spirits were only slightly successful. I was, however, able to confirm that all parties would delay any representation to their parents. We returned to the house a subdued group, the lengthening shadows and increasing cold doing little to lift our spirits.
    Our party separated, the ladies and the gentlemen exchanging doomed glances before returning to their various rooms, while Mr Worcester spoke with a servant who had caught his attention.
    I hurried to find Charlotte and Mrs Fitzhugh, which proved difficult until a maid informed me they were in the conservatory, a part of the house I had not yet visited. I found them there, Charlotte sitting at the pianoforte, listlessly playing the Bach that was her favourite distraction, while Mrs Fitzhugh unravelled some handiwork that apparently displeased her. They both looked up at my arrival.
    ‘You have found her? Charlotte asked.
    ‘Yes I have. What is more I have reconciled all parties with the rôle Mr Worcester has played.’ I related the story at length, hoping to delay what I feared would be disappointing news from my friends.
    ‘At least we no longer need worry about keeping the couples in the dark,’ Mrs Fitzhugh said.
    ‘Yes, it was skilfully done, Jane. I only wish I had as much success.’
    ‘You have thought of nothing that might persuade the parents to accept Mr Potterthwaite and Mr Cuthbertson as acceptable suitors?’
    ‘Margaret and I have thought long and hard on it but we …’
    The sound of either someone clearing his throat or a mournful mountain goat appreciating its view interrupted her. Suspecting the former I turned and beheld a servant who had silently entered the room. I recognized him as the servant with whom Mr Worcester had been in conversation.
    ‘Pardon me, but perhaps I may be of assistance,’ the servant said. I realized now that he was dressed as a valet and appeared to be about forty years of age. His manner and bearing were impeccable and although not of great height he seemed tall of stature nevertheless. A look of keen intelligence shone from his eyes; a look that seemed to say that he knew all that troubled us.
    ‘Who are you and why do you think …’
    ‘Hush, Margaret,’ Charlotte said. ‘I think we are in the presence of Mr Worcester’s valet, Cheevers.’ She gave him a nod, which he acknowledged.
    ‘I am Miss House, and these are my friends, Mrs Fitzhugh and Miss Woodsen.’
    ‘I apologize for intruding, ma’am, but I thought it best to relieve your worries at the earliest convenience. When I saw this young lady hurrying to meet you I thought to speak to you before any precipitate action might render a satisfactory outcome difficult.’
    ‘Do I understand then that you have some means by which we could … persuade the families to accept the gentlemen of whom we were earlier speaking?’
    ‘Quite so, ma’am.’
    ‘And those means are?’
    Cheevers cleared his throat a second time, again suggesting the sound of a contemplative ruminant, and said, ‘I am not at liberty to disclose that to you. I can only provide to the gentlemen sufficient information that will persuade, as you put it, the fathers in question to embrace their future sons.’
    ‘Embrace?’
    ‘Yes, ma’am.’
    ‘It’s that good?’
    ‘Mr Worcester would pronounce it a corker.’
    ‘Very good. You will provide that information to the gentlemen directly?’
    ‘I will do so now. And may I say how skilfully you have managed this affair to date. I am only sorry that owing to my disagreement with Mr Worcester, I have been negligent, but that difficulty is now behind us.’
    ‘Ah, he has succumbed to your opinion as to purple waistcoats?’
    ‘One does not wish to say.’
    ‘Well, well, I wondered if he had earlier seemed in better spirits. I suspect he had just received word from you of your return. But though I thank you for your kind words, Cheevers, I have proved incapable of finding any resolution.’
    What might have been a smile played across his face briefly to be replaced by his emotionless mask. ‘I was privy to information you were not, ma’am.’ He nodded again and left, his tread almost inaudible and the closing of the door behind him but a whisper.
    ‘So that was Cheevers,’ I said. ‘One does feel in the presence of a superior mind.’
    ‘A