Lady Ellingham and the Theft of the Stansfield Necklace: A Regency Romance (7 page)

BOOK: Lady Ellingham and the Theft of the Stansfield Necklace: A Regency Romance
11.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

      Richard gasped.
‘Felicity please you have said enough!’

      Thorndale raised
his hand to silence Richard and stood up. ‘A fair question, follow me,’ he said
as he walked to the study door.  He led them up the stairway to the first floor
landing and stood in front of a portrait of an attractive young woman with dark
hair and deep blue eyes. He looked up at the portrait with affection. ‘This, Lady
Ellingham is a portrait of my grandmother Lady Stansfield, at that time Marchioness
of Thorndale and later to become Duchess of Stansfield.  It was painted in 1764
on the eve of her first wedding anniversary when she was 24 years old. 
Felicity looked up; the woman in the portrait was wearing a white diamond
studded court dress, cut low and with a beautiful diamond and sapphire broach
fastened at her breast.  In her ears, she wore a pair of beautiful pear drop
diamond and sapphire earrings and there around her neck was the very sapphire and
diamond necklace that at this moment was sitting in its black velvet pouch in a
secret drawer in Upper Brook Street.

      Felicity gasped
in astonishment, she was near to speechless, as Alex Sheraton stood exonerated
with a roguish smile on his face.  Richard coughed. ‘Well Flick I think the
least you can do is apologise to his Lordship.’

      ‘Oh I have never
been so deceived in all my life.  Emily, how could she!’

      Thorndale smiled.
‘I would not be too hard on yourself Lady Ellingham, and after all you are not
the only one she has deceived.  Emily is a connoisseur of her trade.  I do not
like the story to be generally known because it hardly stands to my credit. I
am not one who is easily gulled but I have to admit that I was fooled by a
pretty face.’

      ‘I am very sorry
Lord Thorndale.  I was a fool to believe her but she was so credible, all I can
say in consolation is that I have never spoken of this to anyone.  I may have
thought the worst of you but I am no scandalmonger. If you hear anything in
polite circles it will have come from Emily and not from me.’

      The Marquis took
her gloved hand and kissed it. ‘I am pleased to hear it Lady Ellingham and I
doubt Emily will want to advertise her indiscretions.  I care little for what
people think of me and I do not tolerate fools gladly, but it would be entirely
a different matter to be branded a common thief.  Let us consider the matter
closed.’

      Richard gave an
appreciative smile and held out his hand. ‘I thank you Lord Thorndale.  You have
been most gracious over the whole affair.  I am pleased that you have been able
to retrieve your property.’

      Thorndale sighed.
‘I wish it were true but alas the necklace still eludes me. The night before last,
an intruder broke into my home and stole it again.  I nearly caught the
scoundrel but he escaped my grasp and got away. At the time I did not think a
pursuit was necessary as it appeared that he had not stolen anything, or so I
thought, he had nothing in his hands and carried no bag.’

      ‘It seems rather
a coincidence,’ Richard replied, ‘do you know who it could have been?’

      Thorndale nodded.
‘I have my suspicions,’ he replied smiling at Felicity.  She held her breath,
surely he could not know, but then he continued. ‘The person in question was of
medium height, slim, agile and somewhat effeminate.  I know only one person of
that description and it fits Emily’s husband Adrian Entwhistle, but there is an
enigma.  He took the necklace but left £2000 in cash.  I find it hard to
believe that he would leave the money untouched and it perplexes me. It is not
as if he had not the time to take it for when I arrived, he already must have
had the necklace in his pocket and so could have taken the money as well.  Never
the less, it is the only lead I have and I have started enquiries to track him
down.  If he is guilty, he will not find me so merciful the second time around.
I can only think that in his greed for the necklace he did not notice the cash.’

      Felicity
swallowed hard.  She knew that Adrian Entwhistle, although guilty of much, was
most decidedly innocent of this particular crime and things were galloping
beyond her control.  Richards’s voice seemed to echo as she heard him reply. ‘I
hope you succeed in getting it back, but now we have intruded on your
hospitality long enough and will take our leave.’ The Marquis accepted his hand.
‘Please, call me Alex, I hope we may become better acquainted.  At the very
least when we meet again we can greet one another civilly.’

      ‘Under the circumstances
you have been more than generous,’ Richard smiled. ‘I will look forward to
meeting you again; maybe we can shoot some wafers at Manton’s together.’

      Richard returned
Felicity home. ‘Well that went well Flick. I hope it has taught you a lesson to
curb that impetuous nature of yours.  At least we can consider the matter
closed now.  Felicity bit her lip and blushed slightly as the matter was far
from closed.  What had she done?  Far from retrieving property that she thought
did not belong to him, she had broken into the Marquis’ home and stolen the
famous Stansfield necklace.  What is more Lord Alex Sheraton was resolutely on
the hunt for Adrian Entwhistle and heaven knows what he would do when he caught
up with him.  The Marquis was ripe for murder, of that she was sure and she did
not want the life and limb of Entwhistle on her conscience.   Now she had the
problem of returning  the necklace before Emily’s husband was found and without
anyone ever knowing what she had done.

Felicity’s Dilemma and the Grey Pelisse

 

       On returning
home Felicity went to her room, opened the secret drawer and took out the black
pouch containing the necklace.  She gently removed it and let it ripple through
her fingers, admiring the way the light caught the beautiful pear drop cut of
the brilliant stones.  It certainly was a lovely piece but as stolen contraband,
it felt like fire figuratively scorching her hands.  As she slipped the
necklace back into its pouch, she felt a huge pang of guilt.

      She was annoyed
with herself, but she had to admit Emily had been so convincing.  She had
looked so distressed and Felicity was quite sure that her tears had been real. 
How she had achieved it, she did not know but oh, she had been thoroughly
deceived.  She must surely have been born for the theatre for Emily’s
performance was deserving of Drury Lane. Worst of all and something Felicity
could never forgive, was that Emily had been willing to involve Richard in her
deception and the situation had escalated to the risk of his very life.  She
determined that if she ever met Emily Entwhistle again, she would give her one
huge piece of her mind but meanwhile Felicity had to figure out a way of returning
the necklace without anyone being the wiser. 

      She could admit everything
and enlist the help of Richard, but dismissed the idea as soon as she thought
it.  Richard would be furious and rightly so, more so with the fact that she
had put herself in danger. She could tell by his demeanour that he had not quite
forgiven her for her trip to Hampstead Heath this morning. He may even send her
packing back to Richmondshire, and a couple of days ago she would gladly have
gone. Now curiously she wished to stay and suspected that it had much to do
with the Marquis of Thorndale.

      Richard could be
depended on to remedy the matter but how? Knowing Richard, he might just take
the simple approach.  If he went straight to Thorndale and explained everything
Felicity would be mortified and unable to look the Marquis in the face again. Moreover,
intriguing as it was Felicity did not want Thorndale to think any worse of her
than he must already do so.   It did not occur to Felicity that Richard had an
active imagination of his own, and in reality that was the last thing he would
have done, but Felicity was always wont to solve her problems on her own. Her
main consideration however was Richard’s temper.  He had a placid nature and
was not easily riled but he would certainly have something to say if he knew
what she had done. No, it was best that he remained ignorant.

      She toyed with
the idea of sending the necklace by post but she could not conscientiously
consider mailing such a valuable item.  No, she needed to have confidence that
it would arrive.  Sending one of the footmen around to post it through Thorndale’s
letterbox was another option but she was loath to involve any of her servants. 
What if by some elusive fate one of them was caught with the necklace on their
person and hanged for it, she would never forgive herself.  However, there was
nothing stopping her going around herself and just posting it through the door
with an anonymous letter of apology.  Even this simple solution however posed
its problems.  If she went at night, which would have been the best option for
anonymity, footpads may accost her again and this time she may not be so lucky.
If she stopped to think about it, the confrontation with the footpad had shaken
her more than she cared to admit.  If thieves stole the necklace, it could be
lost forever, let alone the risk to her own safety.  No, she must go by herself
during the day, and most definitely without the accompaniment of her maid.

      Felicity got up
off her bed and raked in the back of her wardrobe.  She pulled out a mid grey
pelisse. It was trimmed with silver grey fur around the collar, cuffs and hemline
and fastened down the front with silver grey frogs.  It had a matching fur
trimmed hat and large fur muff.  She had bought it two summers ago in
preparation for the winter and instantly regretted it.  She had fallen in love
with the style but when she brought it home, the colour had not suited her. It had
made her look washed out and pale so it had ended up in the back of her
wardrobe unloved and unworn.  She laid the pelisse on the bed and decided that
it would suit her purpose admirably.  It was rather heavy for a mild autumn day
but none of her acquaintances was familiar with the coat and if she was heavily
veiled no one would recognise her.  She could return the necklace herself, simply
by walking around to Green Street at a quiet time of day and post it through
the letterbox.  She would be happy in the knowledge that the necklace had been
returned and no one would be any the wiser. What could be simpler?

      Felicity sat down
as her desk to write a note of accompaniment.  She sat for a while and made
many false starts, then dismissed them as unsatisfactory.  In the end, she
ended up with only two very short and simple lines.

Lord Thorndale. The
enclosed necklace has come into my possession.  I believe it belongs to you.  I
therefore have pleasure of returning it.

From one who wishes you
well.

     Felicity was
satisfied, the note contained no falsehood, neither could it be said that it
would provide the Marquis with any clues as to her identity.  She wrapped the
necklace in brown paper, tied it with string and put it back into her secret
drawer for safety. All she needed now was the opportunity to slip out of the
house unobserved and as the afternoon was well advanced, she realised that it
would have to wait until tomorrow, for her mother was expecting her down in the
drawing room to greet morning callers.

*****

      Shortly after
Richard and Felicity left Green Street, a note was delivered to Thorndale’s
door.  It was what he had been waiting for, news of the possible whereabouts of
Adrian and Emily Entwhistle. A couple answering their description had been
spotted at the Prospect of Whitby Inn in Wapping.  Situated beside the Thames
it had been a frequent meeting place for thieves and smugglers and had as
little as 40 years ago been known as the Devils Tavern. The Tavern had been
renamed after a square-rigged Vessel from Whitby.  It had three masts and was often
to be found moored outside the tavern.  The owner hoped the new name would
bring the tavern an air of respectability and mariners and trade merchants now
mostly frequented it.  The tavern was in the heart of the maritime district and
away from the scrutiny of the ton.  The Entwhistle’s should have been safe here
but there was no accounting for the resourcefulness and unlimited means of Alex
Sheraton.  However, Thorndale had given them a reprieve and sent them on their
way, so they had no particular reason to be wary.

       The note did not
actually say if the couple were lodging there but they had been spotted in the
confines of the taproom. It was the kind of place that he would expect to find
them.  He would have to act quickly. He ordered his horse to be brought from
the Mews and ran upstairs, where his Valet helped him quickly to change into
his riding jacket and boots.  Within ten minutes of receiving the note, he was
on his way and within thirty minutes, he had tied up his stallion outside of
the Prospect and was entering the premises.

      The tavern was
typical of a mariner’s bar, decorated with ships fittings made out of brass.  Chronometers,
compasses and plaques displaying various nautical knots were displayed on the
walls, and netting and lobster pots hung from the ceiling.  The taproom was
buzzing with the chatter of noisy sailors and Alex strained to look around
them.  He spotted what looked like two customs men sitting in one of the
windows in their distinctive uniforms.   

      Alex was in luck;
he spotted Adrian Entwhistle sitting alone in the far corner downing a mug of
ale. He almost overlooked him because Entwhistle looked decidedly different. 
He had removed the spectacles that had made him look slow and dull witted and
there was a sharpness about him. He had lost the self-deprecating and foppish manner
he had previously projected and an air of self-assurance replaced it.  His hair
instead of being austerely plastered back was carefully arranged in the Titus,
a style that miraculously made him look ten years younger. He was dressed
respectably but not in the mode of the ton, as Alex had observed him to be at Lady
Colchester’s ball. This man was surely a consummate actor.   There was no sign
of Emily, maybe she was resting in her room. Alex weaved his way through the
throng of sailors to Entwhistle’s table.  

      He approached
him, and pointed to a spare seat. ‘May I?’ he asked, but without waiting for a reply,
he pulled out the chair and sat down. Entwhistle indicated to the seat as a
token gesture but as Alex had already thrown his hat and gloves on the table it
was immaterial.  Entwhistle had recognised Thorndale straight away but made no
sign of being particularly alarmed.  He remained watchful and placed his ale
down on the table, but he remained silent waiting for Thorndale to speak.

      ‘All right Entwhistle,
where is it?’ he demanded.

      Entwhistle looked
genuinely surprised. ‘Where is what?’

      ‘The Stansfield necklace
that you seem to have taken such a liking to, he snapped back.’

      Entwhistle leaned
back in his chair and casually looked the Marquis squarely in the face. ‘The
last time I recall seeing that little beauty, it was adorning Emily’s neck at Lady
Colchester’s ball. You must have a very poor memory.  If you will recall you
saw fit to retrieve your property in a most boorish manner.’

      ‘Do not play
dangerous games with me Entwhistle if you value your hide. I have been generous
with you but I would not lose sleep if I saw you hang. You paid me a visit the
other night and took the necklace back.  I have to admit, I would not have credited
you with the daring.’

      Entwhistle was
dispassionate. ‘I hate to disappoint you your Lordship, but if you have been
careless enough to have lost the necklace for a second time, it was not I who
took it, neither was it Emily.’

      Thorndale looked
deep into Entwhistle’s eyes and then it struck him.  They were a deep hazel
brown and not the exquisite violet blue eyes of the man who hung perilously in
his grasp from the balcony. Thorndale grabbed Entwhistle’s right wrist and
roughly turned it over, trapping his arm with his wrist up on the tabletop and
nearly upsetting his drink in the process.  There was no scar and the bones of
his slim hand were angular and less refined. Entwhistle was close to anger and
wrested his wrist back from Thorndale’s loosened hold. ‘Take care my Lord, my
patience is wearing thin.’

      Thorndale picked
up his hat and gloves and sighed. ‘You are fortunate Entwhistle for I believe
you.  I will take my leave.’  At that moment, he felt a delicate presence at
his right shoulder and a familiar voice. ‘Sorry Adrian I did not know we had
company.’  Thorndale turned around to see the diminutive frame of Emily
Entwhistle.  She froze when she realised who he was and was rendered
speechless. Adrian looked at her. ‘Do not worry Emily, the Marquis is leaving.’

      I must get a grip
of myself the Marquis thought.  The girl was certainly fetching but she was a
devious, lying little piece.  Thorndale got up and addressed Emily with a
slight pang. ‘I thought I told you to leave London,’ he said harshly.  Emily
looked at him and panicked. ‘Oh indeed we are, tomorrow we are heading to Dover
to catch the Paket to France.’

      Her husband
glared at her angrily. ‘Be quiet Emily, the Marquis is not interested in our
destination. You may say goodbye.’ 

      Thorndale nodded
and took his leave but could not resist the temptation to look back.  Emily was
engaged in a heated argument with her husband. He could imagine what they were
arguing about and caught a few words.  Adrian’s voice echoed. ‘You little fool,
why did you tell him where we are going?  Do you not realise that a man of his
stamp has acquaintances everywhere.  You may as well kiss goodbye to rich
pickings in Paris.’

      Thorndale smiled
and walked out into the fresh air.  He must remember to pen a letter to his cousin
in Paris to warn them of the two confidence tricksters who were on their way.  The
smile was short lived however, for if Adrian Entwhistle did not steal the
necklace, then who did?  He was back to square one. Who was the mysterious
youth with the piercing violet blue eyes and the tell tale scar?   He thought affectionately
of his grandmother, the Lady in the portrait, she was still alive and had no
idea that the necklace was missing.   She was old but sprightly and he owed it
to her to retrieve the necklace and preferably before she expressed the desire
to wear it again.

******

      The next morning
Felicity arose early.  She needed to accomplish her errand before the customary
morning visits began and before people were out in numbers on the streets. She
quickly put on the offending grey pelisse and hat, and then slipped her hands
with the package into the fur muff. 

      She crept
silently down into the hall opened the front door and escaped the house without
notice. Thank goodness it was not raining. Not until she had stepped onto the
street did she pull the heavy veil over her face.  If she was quick, the errand
need take no longer than 15 minutes and then she would be back home, mission
accomplished with all her problems solved. 

BOOK: Lady Ellingham and the Theft of the Stansfield Necklace: A Regency Romance
11.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Trickster by Nicola Cameron
27: Kurt Cobain by Salewicz, Chris
Best Friends by Thomas Berger
The F Factor by Diane Gonzales Bertrand
Burned by Rick Bundschuh
Heart of the Incubus by Rosalie Lario
Flowers for the Dead by Barbara Copperthwaite
The Perilous Gard by Elizabeth Marie Pope
Warrior Queen (Skeleton Key) by Shona Husk, Skeleton Key