Charlotte House Affair 01 - My Particular Friend

advantage of that; and there are those who would stand by him.’
    ‘Has he no reserves?’ Charlotte asked. ‘What did his father leave him?’
    ‘Very little, I am afraid. He has land, of course, but its income is negligible for his father did not manage it wisely. No, his wealth derives from his business acumen, which up to now never failed him. But at least his father instilled in his sons a love of geography and maps that George has maintained.’
    We continued to talk of the matter; Mr Dundas seemed to delight in offering explanations for the mystery of the map and Charlotte seemed equally to enjoy dismissing them. It was obvious this man’s influence on the young Charlotte—promoting her active mind with fancies that she might dissect and examine.
    During our conversation, we had continuing reports of improvements. Mrs Fitzhugh confirmed that Mr Haversham had tolerated coddled eggs and some weak tea. This news prompted Charlotte to despatch a message to Edward Haversham.
    ‘It is his right to know his brother has improved,’ Charlotte said. ‘We now have proof after all that the map was never taken.’
    Mr Dundas could not deny this and so the message was sent and later that day the younger brother returned.
    ‘This is joyous news,’ he told Miss Streetham upon his greeting her.
    ‘Oh Edward, how I have wronged you. My sin is unforgiveable,’ she said in earnest, pleading tones, addressing him now as the brother she once again hoped he might be.
    ‘No, no, you could not wrong me for I have been the worst sort of brother and the worst sort of friend. George has always treated me better than he should and I have only repaid his kindness by asking for more. I promise you, Beryl, if I may be so bold to call you Beryl, I promise you that I shall help my brother … and his wife … and I … I am sure that happy day will come for you both …’
    The man could not continue and I saw that Mr Edward Haversham had turned that corner in his life that leads to wisdom and redemption. Miss Streetham held his hand and it almost seemed as if he wanted to draw it away—in shame for how he had lived his life—but she held it all the more firmly.
    In all my life I have never witnessed a more touching scene and I looked to my friend Charlotte with the expectation that even she would be moved by this expression of love and forgiveness. However the look of her face was one of amazement and epiphany, to be replaced by her swift smile when once she discovered my gaze.
    All the rest of the day we heard continued good reports of Mr Haversham and after our dinner we learned that he wondered at the many unfamiliar voices he heard issuing from downstairs. He was informed of our presence and assistance and over the objections of his caregivers asked that he might thank us for our troubles.
    Mrs Streetham led Charlotte, Mrs Fitzhugh and me to his room, where we found him sitting upright. His resemblance to his brother was remarkable, save for the influence of the years between them and the suffering he had endured. His hairline had further receded and I suspect before his troubles he might have carried more weight than his brother, but otherwise they were identical.
    ‘Beryl and her dear mother have told me that you have sought to clear my brother’s name, and I thank you,’ he said. We wisely did not offer to correct his interpretation of our visit.
    ‘I am so ashamed that my … illness gave rise to any speculation that my brother would do such a thing.’
    Mrs Streetham, however, coughed and said, ‘But Edward’s conduct in past has …’
    ‘No!’ Mr Haversham said, and in his excitement he raised himself from his pillow. ‘You do not know him. You do not know the strength he has!’
    But this act robbed him of his strength and he collapsed back to his bed. I thought we might have overtaxed the man and was about to suggest we leave when Charlotte said, ‘We are happy that we could act on your behalf to defend your brother when you were indisposed.’
    ‘You are very kind. I am also told you are friends of Uncle Charles—that is Mr Dundas …’ he stopped and looked at us quizzically, his eyes squinting as if to see us better.
    ‘Perhaps you would benefit from your glasses?’ Charlotte offered.
    ‘Mr Haversham does not wear glasses,’ Miss Streetham said, who apparently had entered the room while we were in conversation.
    Charlotte took several steps closer to Mr Haversham and peered more closely at the