Charlotte House Affair 01 - My Particular Friend

upset at the news of the duel.’
    Mrs Fitzhugh sighed, and said, ‘Dear Jane, you must know by now that Charlotte has a secret past that troubles her and that she wishes it to remain secret, even from you.’ But the look in my friend’s eyes made me think that it was not her wish that I should remain uninformed.
    ‘I have suspected …’ I began to say, and then stopped for if I were truthful I would admit I had suspected nothing. Of course I knew Charlotte to be moody and at times secretive, but I had assumed it was part of the persona that she wished to present. Perhaps my own woes and concerns precluded me from observing the woes of those around me, even those I held in great esteem.
    ‘No, it cannot be that you are unaware.’ Mrs Fitzhugh said, interpreting my confusion correctly. ‘I am surprised at your ignorance. Well, you know Charlotte’s methods. Apply that which you have learned, Jane.’
    I left her then and hurried to the library to join Charlotte already surrounded by her commonplace books.
    ‘Take these Jane and see what you might find of Mr Jenkins,’ she said, handing me two books. I took the books and used the opportunity to inspect more closely my friend’s demeanour.
    ‘There is something the matter, Jane?’ she asked upon observing my inspection.
    The low winter sun through the library windows cast shadows upon her face, making her appear quite careworn. But she also wore her look of irritation that did not invite further inquiry and so I lied.
    ‘No, nothing more than the thought that distasteful as it is, a woman, such as Miss Bassett, could not help but feel moved that a man would risk his life to defend her beauty.’
    ‘Tchah! I could not disagree more. It is an act of arrant stupidity. You would be advised to follow your Mr Wallace’s example. He knows something of the waste of men’s lives.’
    ‘Oh assuredly, Charlotte,’ I agreed in haste.
    ‘Now find what you can of Mr Jenkins,’ she commanded.
    But half an hour of mutual search proved fruitless. ‘I see nothing here of Mr Jenkins,’ I said in exasperation.
    At my words, Charlotte looked up and said. ‘Neither do I, but I did not have high hopes. My network does not extend to Bristol spirit importers. But of Mr Sunderland I find a little. I have met him before, of course, and have danced with him … I have recorded he is very good … but I think the card room holds more attraction for him than the ballroom. And if my memory is correct, he has fought two duels, but in each case apparently honour was satisfied after a single exchange and no injuries were sustained. My information is supplemented by rumour and … ah, here is information supplied by Uncle Charles, that is Mr Dundas.’ Her finger traced words in her book. ‘He recounted to me: “He’s accomplished at cards but it’s balanced by a need to bet on anything, including things beyond his control. So he might walk away from the table richer and foolishly lose it on whether it rains or not.”’
    ‘Has he a fortune?’
    ‘He is the second son of a prominent Newbury family but beyond this I know nothing. A distressingly incomplete record, in fact, that I think requires remediation.’
    I shook my head. ‘If you propose a visit to the Assembly rooms or the Pump Room or any of our myriad sources of gossip, I remind you that I am engaged at our mantua maker to-day.’ #
    ‘Which is why I shall travel there with Margaret. You may take Mary with you.’

The Mantua Maker
    Mary and I slowly walked down the street, our lack of progress owing principally to my musings on the strange affair before us and the secret that I now knew Charlotte kept from me. My mind whirled as I thought of all those peculiarities of my friend and how they might be assembled to give a picture of that secret. Chief among her mysteries, of course, was her reluctance to show interest in any man, but I dismissed her reluctance to her being in no desire to marry. She was still young …
    And then it occurred to me that I did not actually know my benefactress’s age. The topic had never arisen, or rather on those occasions on which it did, there was never a resolution to our conversation. Charlotte might be as young as maybe a year or two older than myself or …
    And then again I was struck, but this time by the memory of my first meeting Charlotte. I was near seventeen and not yet out, the delay attributable to my father’s poor financial health, he wanting to delay the