Charlotte gave me a sideways smile. “I meant what I told you in the inner ward, about how wonderful it is here. It makes it a little harder to hate you.”
I stretched my feet toward the fire. “Heavens, why should you hate me? I have troubles enough of my own.”
She laughed, a short, sharp bark of laughter. “I should like to have your troubles. Which dress to choose, which noble lord to marry, which country to spend the winter? Yes, those are troubles indeed.”
There was mockery in her voice, but it was not malicious, and I knew we understood one another after a fashion. Under other circumstances, I might have been friends with this woman. The silly, prattling widow she had pretended to held no interest for me at all.
“I never meant to turn to thieving,” she said, leaning her head back against the chair. “Oh, yes, I will tell you of it now. It does not matter. And I think I would like to tell someone.”
I settled more comfortably into my chair and awaited her tale.
“My mother was an actress. You would not have heard of her. She toured provincial theatres, giving second-rate performances to third-rate audiences. My father was a gentleman, and I think I need not tell you my birth was not blessed by the church. My father paid for my education. He thought to put me into service, as a lady’s maid or companion, but I am my mother’s child. I left school and took to the stage, a conjurer’s assistant, smiling prettily and showing my legs.”
She turned her head to look at me. “Did Brisbane tell you about Edwin?”
“Your husband?”
Charlotte smiled a tired, hollow smile. “My life. Edwin cannot marry me, and I do not care. He was the conjurer who took me onto the stage and into his bed when I was fifteen. He is, quite simply, the most beautiful man I have ever seen. White-gold hair, and eyes bluer than the sea. His skin is so pale, you could almost see the wine move down his throat as he drinks.”
“So Brisbane was not the sort of man to attract you in any event,” I hazarded.
She laughed again. “Absolutely not. Who would want the dark of the moon when you have been dazzled by the sun? But for all his beauty, Edwin is not a gifted magician. You cannot imagine how many birds he has smothered in his pockets or rabbits he has let wander off because he forgot to shut the cage. But he is glorious, and I am not the only lady to think so. There have always been others, others willing to pay for the privilege of what he gives freely to me.”
I said nothing, but the room had gone suddenly chill and I shuddered a little. Charlotte’s watchful eyes missed nothing.
“I have shocked you, my lady. You cannot imagine sharing a man you loved.”
“Indeed not,” I agreed. “I should sooner cut out his heart and serve it to him on toast.”
Her pretty mouth curved into a sneer. “You think you would. But you have the luxury of food in your belly and a roof above your head. What if all you had was that man? Would he be feast enough for you? Could you not simply gorge yourself on him and let other women have the crumbs? Oh, I think you ought not to judge, my lady, until you have lain awake at night, the hunger pains in your belly so sharp you cannot sleep, the rain soaking your thin bed as the wind shrieks into the room, chilling you to sickness. Then you will have trod a mile or two in my shoes, and then you would understand.”
She turned away again and resumed the thread of her tale. “Edwin sometimes took things, little trinkets usually, something grander upon occasion. We lived on what he earned on his back and what he stole from the women who used him. It was his idea to take the Tear of Jaipur, and a grand idea it was. The princess used to come, incognita, to see friends of Edwin’s perform. Acrobats, they were, and she would clap and smile like a child as she watched them. But Edwin was often seated in a box near the stage, and it was not long before her eyes strayed to him and lingered. He can read the need in a woman like some men can read a newspaper. He knew what she wanted of him, and he knew she owned the Tear. It was simple enough to arrange. He took the jewel, pledging to return it the next day. She was nervous, but she trusted him. That’s the trouble with women,” she said wonderingly. “We know what we oughtn’t do, and yet we do it anyway. Nature has given us instincts, but when a man comes along, we hear only his voice, and not our own.”
She shook herself out of her reverie. “We would have left England that very night, but I had fallen ill and Edwin would not go without me. It was dangerous to keep the Tear in our lodgings, so Edward hid it in a piece of furniture and gave it to a friend for safekeeping. He was taken the next day for some jewels he had sold the week before. It wasn’t like him to be careless. I think he was so taken with the idea of the Tear and all it promised that he made a mistake. He sold the jewels to a pawnbroker he had used before, and the man marked him well. Edwin was taken, and I had no money, no means of living. It was too dangerous to sell the Tear, but I was desperate. Edwin penned letters of introduction, and within a week, I was the houseguest of Lady Hester Millar. From there, I moved in only the most exclusive circles. I took what I needed, discreetly.”
“There is a lady’s maid with a cracked skull who might disagree,” I commented dryly.
Charlotte shrugged. “A cornered animal fights, and as you observed, my lady, I have an animal’s instinct for survival. It was not long before Brisbane appeared, trailing me like a hound. I visited Edwin in prison. I told him I was frightened, but he only laughed. He told me to be bold, that I must throw myself into Brisbane’s path to divert suspicion. In the meanwhile, I would plot my escape from England, and establish myself abroad when it was safe to move. I would sell the diamond and buy land, acres and acres of it where we would be our own lords of the manor. The charges against Edwin will be difficult to prove. He will be released in a matter of months and we will be together.”
“But without the Tear,” I reminded her. “Your things have been searched.” Even as I said it, I realised she might well have hidden the jewel anywhere in the Abbey, along with my pearls. But she could not hope to recover them.
She gave me a lazy smile. “Then I will go without it. I will make a future for myself and for Edwin.” There was something I did not like in her manner, some smugness that she was unable to conceal.
“And my pearls?”
“Have not left the Abbey. I leave you to find them since you love a good mystery,” she said, slanting me a challenging look.
My tolerance for her was moving rapidly into hatred. “And my dog? I suppose you were the one who poisoned her?”
Charlotte’s eyes widened in mock horror. “My lady, you shock me. I would never poison a dog. I merely drugged her with a tasty bit of venison soaked in a drop of Cook’s laudanum. I discovered it when I was stirring up the Christmas puddings, and I thought it might be useful.”
There seemed nothing else to say. She had admitted to her crimes, but without either the jewels or the authority to hold her, I was powerless. She gave me a fond smile.
“I have actually quite enjoyed myself, you know,” she told me. She stretched, lissome as a cat. “I shall be sorry to leave Bellmont Abbey.”
“Do forgive me if I say that we shall not be sorry to see you go,” I returned.
I left her then, her laughter echoing in my ears.