Page 53 of Falling for a Footman

Epilogue

Hampstead Heath, Ayear later

Charlotte handed James a cup of tea with a splash of milk and no sugar, just as he liked it.

"Thank you, darling,” James murmured without looking up from the papers that he was reading. His hand fumbled on his plate for his buttered toast before he found it and took a bite; his reading was clearly too important for him to put down even for a second to look at his meal.

Charlotte smiled and concentrated on her own breakfast, eggs and salmon, her eyes in her book the moment her fork was in her mouth. They usually ate in companionable silence in the morning, since James always had a lot to read before having to report at Bow Street. He always complained – with a smile of course – that since she took up so much of his time in the evenings, he would have to use the mornings to catch up.

A sigh by the fireplace made her look at Clemmie and Thor who were practically spooning on the blanket there. She could not determine which dog had sighed; by the look of them it could have been either. Like their owners there were enjoying the location of the house on Hampstead Heath where they could go for long walks every day. Only their owners however cared that the house was also close enough to London for James to be able to keep his job.

Charlotte’s attention returned to the table again when James once more fumbled for his toast and his fingers made his teacup rattle on the saucer.

“Have you considered that it might be Mr. Stuart’s business partner that’s behind the fire?” Charlotte asked, finally making James look at her.

“What?” he prodded, looking bemused.

“I’m just thinking that Mr. Sanders would have every incentive to start the fire in the building - he would be the one that collected the insurance money since Mr. Stuart is dead,” Charlotte explained and pointed at him with her fork.

“Lady Charlotte Montagu Wolfe, we have been over this more than once: You are not to read my papers...” James said in a mock-scolding voice.

“But Lord James Wolfe, since you leave them out, I can hardly be faulted if I happen to read them when I’m in your study,” Charlotte retorted.

“They were in the top drawer of my desk – which was locked,” James stated.

Charlotte smiled demurely.

“Well, have you considered Mr. Sanders?” she asked.

“Of course, we have. He was the first person we looked into: He was visiting his sister and her family that evening,” James explained.

“Who would conveniently provide him with an alibi,” Charlotte pointed out.

“There were other guests as well,” James said tartly, returning his gaze to his papers.

“Yes, which was very fortunate for you, since Mrs. Arbuthnot seems to be the only one who happened to notice that Mr. Sanders slipped from the room at about 11 in the evening. At first, she thought that he had simply stepped out to take care of his business, but when he did not return until an hour later, she found it suspicious enough to mention when questioned,” Charlotte told him.

James looked at his wife with wide eyes, then back as his papers. Flicking through them to find Mrs. Arbuthnot’s testimony. It was only a couple of sentences long, stating that she had seen Mr. Sanders there the whole evening.

“There’s nothing about that here,” he said, feeling his eyes widen a bit more, since he knew she would never make up such a thing.

“No, but there is in here,” she observed and handed him a couple of papers, covered in her neat handwriting. “Do you know, sometimes women feel more comfortable talking to other women?”

James quickly scanned them, seeing that it was a testimony from Mrs. Arbuthnot. Her statement was exactly as Charlotte had told him. It completely shattered Mr. Sanders alibi, making him once again the prime suspect.

“How did this come into your possession?” James asked.

Charlotte sent him a look that clearly said that he was asking a silly question now. It would have made any governess proud.

“Charlotte, I told you that you can’t just visit people and ask them questions. The testimonies have to be carried out by the runners,” James sighed, although secretly being impressed by her work.

“Yes, which is why she will be expecting you at ten this morning,” his wife informed him with a smile.

James rose from the chair and kissed her soundly.

“Stop talking to witnesses on your own,” he demanded, emphasizing his words by dipping the papers with each word.

Charlotte smiled and he could see that she would make no such promises.