Page 39 of Falling for a Footman

Twenty-one

Charlotte did not knowwhere she got the courage from but as soon as the words were out, she knew she was right. He had shown up around the time the candlesticks were stolen, from what she had been able to observe he was not the best footman, even though he had allegedly been in the employ of a marquis for numerous years, and the way he behaved around her was not one that a footman would ever feel comfortable with. If he was truly depended on this job, its wages and to be close to his sister, he would never have dared risk it by being alone with the duke’s daughter.

“You’re the investigator,” she repeated a third time, when he still did not speak.

By now she was certain. His body language had given him away: How his foot had dropped from his knee, and he was simply staring at her. His mouth was slightly open as if he wanted to speak but had no words.

“Yes, it all makes sense,” Charlotte eagerly went on as she sat down in a chair opposite him. “Why you are able to read and write, why your mother wanted you to play the piano...” He looked a bit sheepish at the last comment.

“Why you met with the rider... another investigator?” she asked. By now he had leaned forward with his lower arms resting on his thighs, his fingers pressed tightly together. He simply nodded once curtly at her question.

For the first time, Charlotte considered how this was making him feel. She had been so elated at her discovery, at finally figuring out a truth about James, that she had not considered what it was like for him to be exposed.

“I beg your pardon,” she hurriedly told him. “I should not be so happy at having revealed your true identity. It’s just...”

“It feels amazing when you are finally able to crack a case open,” he said wryly and looked up at her. “Believe me I know.” His tone of voice darkened even further with his last words.

Charlotte felt the urge to move to the sofa and sit next to him. To take his hand and comfort him. They hardly knew each other and yet, she felt connected to him in a way, she could not describe. It was more than mere attraction now. It was a sense of belonging.

“I am sorry,” she repeated.

“Don’t be,” James muttered. “You’re clever. It’s one of the things I like best about you.”

Charlotte blushed at his compliment. As much as she wanted him to compliment her, she was not ready to talk about them yet. Not that she had any idea how she should start that conversation. Instead, her mind spun back to their previous topic.

“So, who is it? The thief? Do you have any suspects?” she asked tentatively, hoping that talking about his work might be uplifting.

James only shook his head and looked down at his steepled fingers again.

“Really, none?” Charlotte asked. According to Miss Walker he had been here what three or four weeks, surely, he had to... “Wait, Miss Walker said that you had been hired before the candlesticks were stolen. That was why I suspected you at first.”

James’s head lifted and his eyes glistening with excitement.

“Miss Walker?” he repeated.

Charlotte only nodded as she tried to think of the conversation. She had been sitting at her dressing table and Miss Walker had been combing her hair.

“Yes, I... I needed to know when you had been hired to rule you out as a thief, but she said that you had arrived at the beginning of July....”

“But Miss Walker was not here in the beginning of July. She was with you in London,” James said. He had straightened in his seat and was speaking eagerly and animatedly now.

“No,” Charlotte stated and shook her head fervently. “Her grandfather is a tenant here. He is suffering very severely from arthritis and in the end of June, she was granted two weeks leave to take care of him.”

James jumped to his feet and clasped his hands together loudly.

“Miss Walker,” he exclaimed. “My, my, my.”

Joy practically radiated from him, but Charlotte felt a heavy weight settle in the middle of her chest. Miss Walker was only a couple of years older than Charlotte and had been with her family for seven years. She had started as a scullery maid and worked her way up to lady’s maid. And Charlotte liked her. She was efficient and skilled without being too nosy or gossiping too much. Lucinda loved a chatty maid, but Charlotte preferred one where she did not have to make too much conversation with her.

“But do you really think... can it really be her?” Charlotte asked hesitantly and rose as well. She was wringing her hands as she looked concerned at James’s beaming smile.

“Of course, it has to be her. She lied to you to try to make you suspicious of me...” He paused for a moment while moving his index finger up and down. Almost as if he was a conductor. “And I saw her last night. From the window. After you left. I saw her walk through the garden... she has to have been meeting with someone.”

“We don’t know that,” Charlotte cautioned him.

James stopped and looked at her pensively.

“No,” he then admitted. “All we have at the moment is circumstantial evidence. Just like you had against me.” Charlotte made a face and was about to defend herself. “Let’s not go into that again. What I mean to say is, we need evidence, preferably to catch her in the act, alternatively a confession to make the case stick in court.”

Charlotte gulped at the thought of Miss Walker going to trial. Theft was a serious crime, and she would most likely be deported. Charlotte did not know much about the colonies except that it was a hard and dangerous life. As if James sensed her hesitation, he took a few steps towards her and raised his arms a little, reaching out to towards her, then he evidently thought better of it and let his arms drop to his sides, as he said:

“If she is guilty, she needs to be punished, Charlotte. She stole from your family. She snuck into your parents’ suite while they were sleeping and stole your mother’s pearls. She needs to be punished.”

His tone grew gentler with every word and Charlotte could only nod at his logic. Yes, a thief needed to be punished. But this was Miss Walker.

“We will prove it beyond a doubt, I promise you,” James assured her. Charlotte nodded again. “Will you help me do it?”

She felt the surprise like a wave of goosebumps running over her body, then it settled as a warm pit in her stomach at the thought that he wanted her to help him. When she nodded this time, it was an eager and excited movement.