Charlotte House Affair 01 - My Particular Friend

should take my leave.’
    ‘Please, it would be best if you remained,’ Charlotte said with a forced smile.
    Robert returned and said, ‘Mr Edward Gascoigne.’
    Mrs Fitzhugh and I stood at this revelation and we greeted our visitor with our mouths open for his appearance surprised us. Mrs Brown had described him as handsome and he was indeed a magnificent wreck of a man. He was not tall, although he would probably be taller could he stand straight, but his left leg was bent horribly. His shoulders seemed to brush either side of the doorway and he eclipsed Robert as he entered. At one time his face was undoubtedly fair, with a strong nose and chin and coal black eyes, but now all that one could see was the cruel scar that went across his dark, tanned face. Despite his savage appearance, he was dressed as a gentleman, if somewhat shabbily, and his bow to us was that of a man addressing his equals.
    ‘Have I the honour of addressing Miss House?’ he said in a strangled whisper.
    ‘You do sir,’ Charlotte said, stepping forward in contrast to my fearful backward step.
    ‘It has come to my attention that you may know something of the disappearance of a Mrs Brown, whom I knew as my wife, Violet Gascoigne.’ He said the last with some difficulty, his voice becoming even more of a whisper.
    ‘I know nothing of her disappearance, sir. A man came to me asking my help in finding his missing bride-to-be. I told him I had no idea where she might be and that it was hardly my concern. I … I did not want to give him my opinion that she had reconsidered his offer and left him standing. If he chuses to believe her disappearance a mystery, well that is his solace.’
    ‘Liar,’ he said, still in a whisper but louder.
    Mr Wallace stepped forward at this and said angrily, ‘You will leave immediately, sir.’ He put his hand on Mr Gascoigne’s arm but it was like putting a hand on a statue and expecting it to move.
    ‘Please Mr Wallace, allow him to speak. You were calling me a liar, were you not?’
    ‘I was. You know something more. I have made enquiries. You’re something of a busybody and … and you’re my only hope.’ His voice faltered as suddenly the man began coughing, the coughs shaking his whole body and forcing him further bent over. He took a handkerchief and tried to stifle his coughs to no avail.
    ‘Mr Wallace, please help him to a chair,’ Charlotte said.
    My friend helped our visitor to a chair and Mrs Fitzhugh hurriedly prepared a drink and offered it to him, which he greedily drank.
    ‘Thank you,’ he whispered after he drank, the glass falling from his hand.
    ‘It is consumption,’ Mr Wallace said, looking pointedly at the crimson stained handkerchief Mr Gascoigne held. He quickly put his handkerchief into his pocket. #
    ‘I apologize for …’
    ‘There is no need sir, and I wish that I could tell you what you wish, but I know nothing,’ Charlotte said.
    ‘Tell me that she is well … and happy. Tell me that much and I shall leave.’
    Charlotte’s face remained calm. I caught her eye and looked at her questioningly. She shook her head at me and then addressed him. ‘I can tell you no such thing.’
    ‘She fears me, I know. When last we met … my life has been hard and the only thought that sustained me was my love of her. I thought of her day and night during my suffering and I only wanted her to … Oh, I scared her. I know that now. Look at what I have become. I am enough to frighten anyone. Please Miss House, for the love of God, tell me where she is!’ He said this in his loudest voice yet but for all that it still seemed the sound of a man underwater fighting for his life. He looked at us each, his eyes bright and fierce.
    I looked at my friends. Mr Wallace shewed his sympathy for the man and I saw Mrs Fitzhugh look away with grief. But Charlotte kept her resolve.
    ‘I am heartfully sorry, Mr Gascoigne. I know nothing of this matter. Are you better now? Would you like something else?’
    The man’s head hung low now and he said, ‘No. Nothing. Please sir, if you would help me to stand? I will go.’
    Mr Wallace raised the man to his feet and we crowded round him, save for Charlotte who kept her distance.
    ‘Miss House, one last thing. As I said, I have made my enquiries and I know you to be a honourable woman. There is something I have for … Mrs Brown.’ He took a small bag from a pocket and laid it on a table with the distinct chink of coin. ‘Would you see that she