Charlotte House Affair 01 - My Particular Friend

Wallace’s calling card. Charlotte took the card, reversed it and we saw the note: ‘Urgent I talk to you, Miss House, on behalf of a friend.’
    ‘Very good, Robert. Please show Mr Wallace and his friend in.’ Robert nodded and left and I thought the man’s measured tread infuriatingly slow.
Who could this woman be that he called friend?
    Robert then returned and announced our guests as ‘Mr Wallace and Miss Deirdre Bassett.’
    We exchanged our greetings, I perhaps with less than my usual
sang-froid
for I was both struck by the beauty of our visitor, still apparent despite her obvious unease, and her hand upon the arm of
my
Mr Wallace. She was several inches shorter than Charlotte, which still left her several inches above me, with jet black hair and a fine complection not marred by her cheeks bright from the wintry air. I guessed her to be of my age, but her beauty and her obvious wealth from the fineness of her dress, made her seem to be my senior. #
    ‘Thank you Miss House for seeing me,’ Mr Wallace began uncertainly. ‘It is a matter of some urgency you see for this woman’s … well, I don’t know how the matter stands, but might he be your betrothed?’ he asked of his companion. After a moment’s hesitation she shook her head no. ‘Then I come on behalf of a Mr Jenkins, a friend of mine.’ Those last words he addressed to us.
    You will understand how relieved I felt at those words.
Of course, Mr Wallace’s friend is Mr Jenkins, to whom this woman may or may not be betrothed.
I looked at Mr Wallace, who gave me back a weak smile. He seemed unusually perturbed.
    ‘You obviously have a difficult tale to tell,’ Charlotte said. ‘Please, let us sit while you tell it.’
    We took our seats, Miss Bassett clearly thankful of my friend’s suggestion. I also took the opportunity to retrieve my journal.
    ‘Thank you, Miss House, and it is more appropriate that
I
thank you, for I have importuned on Mr Wallace to bring me here, also on behalf of Mr Jenkins.’
    ‘It does not matter who thanks me. Tell me of your distress and how I may help.’
    ‘I come because Mr Jenkins, a man I know, is now party to a duel because he defended my … well, it is embarrassing to say.’ #
    Miss Bassett turned her head away while making her admission, an act that only made her seem prettier. I then noticed that Charlotte, in reaction to Miss Bassett’s statement, bore a numbed expression so curiously unlike her normal self. I also noticed Mrs Fitzhugh looking to our friend. The silence began to hang uneasily and so I asked, ‘He defended your honour?’
    My question broke Charlotte’s reverie, who looked sharply at me. She obviously wished me to hold my tongue and at this I was relieved, for her irritation was preferable to her numb look.
    Miss Bassett now answered my question. ‘No, not my honour, but my …’ and would not continue.
    ‘He defended her beauty,’ Mr Wallace supplied.
    ‘What? He challenged someone to a duel over her beauty?’ I asked, again incurring a sharp glance from Charlotte.
    ‘No, he was challenged for insulting the gentleman who … well it’s all rather silly … no, not silly for it has come to this, but the provocation is … it is complicated,’ Mr Wallace said.
    Charlotte remarked, ‘Do tell. And while you’re at it, tell me how you are involved, Mr Wallace.’
    He rubbed his jaw before answering. ‘Actually, I think I may be one of the seconds. I am uncertain at this moment.’
    ‘This is a muddled affair. Were you present at the exchange that precipitated the challenge?’
    ‘Yes, in a sense. This morning I was with friends at a coffeehouse, one of those friends being Mr Jenkins, whom I know through the regiment, but not well. He has only recently arrived in Bath from Bristol. He had instigated the trip to the coffeehouse, claiming its virtues … of which there were few readily apparent to my eye. But that is beside the point. He became rather voluble as to the charms of Miss Bassett, whom I had never met, although his description of her beauty, could never do …’ He faltered after noticing my gaze, which I fear may have been intense.
    ‘Oh, where was I?’ he then said. ‘Yes, it was all rather odd for normally Mr Jenkins is a quiet sort of man, not given to calling attention to himself. But here he was, loudly praising Miss Bassett’s … appearance, when the gentleman sitting at a nearby table observed that Mr Jenkins certainly must be exaggerating. To