The Counterfeit Lady (17 page)

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Authors: Kate Parker

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BOOK: The Counterfeit Lady
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I had dozed off again when I heard my door open. The lamp I’d left on showed Emma and the duke slip silently into my room. I sat bolt upright, my heart pounding from surprise and relief. “Where have you been?” I whispered as loudly as I could.

“When I went to gather your tray, I saw the baron’s valet slip out the kitchen door. I followed him into the village.”

“Alone?” Blackford demanded.

“Of course.” Emma turned back to me. “He met another man in a tavern. I was watching through the window, wondering how I could learn what they were saying, when Sumner appeared. He went in and listened. He heard them argue about money, and then the other man, a young, thin man, said he’d bring it to the house and deal directly with the boss tomorrow night.”

“Sumner identified the younger man as Snelling,” Blackford said.

“Snelling is bringing the naval designs here tomorrow night to exchange for money. While a ball is going on.” Oh, terrific. I looked from one face to the other.

“There will be so many excess people here, one more won’t be noticed,” the duke grumbled.

“Sumner is certain they didn’t realize he was there and say that only to mislead him?” I asked.

“They were too busy arguing to notice much of anything. They were both faced away from the room. Sumner couldn’t see their faces until they left,” Emma told me.

“So who is the boss?”

“Sumner said Snelling never referred to the person who hired him as he or she. He did say he had an arrangement with one person and he’d give the drawings to that person directly in exchange for the money. He also told the valet if he works for the boss to report back that danger had raised the price.”

“So we know the valet didn’t hire the burglar for the baron. And the person who hired him could be male or female.” I shook my head in frustration, my plaited hair swinging over my back.

“Sir Henry in a deal with the baron. Or the baron himself,” Blackford said.

“Or Lady Bennett, who could have developed a taste for state secrets while bedding diplomats,” I said. Since I’d learned she had come between Clara and Ken Gattenger, I disliked her enough to hope she was the guilty party.

“God help us if it’s her,” the duke muttered.

I leaned toward Emma. “What happened next?”

“I stayed in the shadows until the baron’s man headed back to the house and the other man, Snelling, went the other way. I started to follow the German, but Sumner caught up with me and walked me to the house,” Emma told me.

“Did anyone here see Sumner?” I suspected the duke wanted Sumner’s presence here kept a secret.

“I did. And only me,” Blackford said. “He has his orders for tomorrow night. Are you going to be able to help us?” He gave me a dark look.

I looked at him with more assurance than I felt. “I’ll stay in bed in the morning, then have Emma tightly lace up my half boot. You may have to let me lean on your arm, looking adoringly at you, if walking’s too difficult.”

He snorted.

I glared in reply. “I will be downstairs tomorrow night. You can be sure of it.”

He strode up to the bed and looked down at where I sat, the covers demurely wrapped around me. His eyes darkened as I stared into his face and tried to gauge his mood. “I need your help on this, Georgia. I’m depending on you.”

I held out a hand to him. “I’d never let you down.”

He took my hand and grasped it firmly. “I believe you. Everyone from Gattenger to the queen will need you on your toes tomorrow.” Then the corners of his lips lifted in a sly smile. “Figuratively and literally. I want to claim a waltz.”

“I will be honored, Your Grace.” I would dance with a duke. With the Duke of Blackford. For that, I would endure any amount of pain.

“I’ll be busy with our host and the Foreign Office tomorrow. I’ll see you at dinner. Good luck, Georgia.”

“Good luck, Your Grace.”

He still held my hand as he stared into my eyes. I gazed back with no desire to break our connection. His bare skin was smooth and lightly callused, warm against my hopeful fingers. I clung to his hand, breathing in his scent of brandy and expensive cigars. I didn’t want this perfect moment to end.

Emma said, “I’m off to bed unless you need me for something.”

The duke blinked and dropped my hand. “Good night, Emma. That was well done following von Steubfeld’s man.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” With the click of the door latch, she was gone.

He didn’t move away from the side of my bed. “How sure are you that the man you saw today was your parents’ killer?”

“Completely certain. It’s the same man I saw in the spring. The same man I saw kidnap and murder my parents when I was seventeen.”

“Have you any evidence he’s the guilty party?”

“After Drake was arrested last spring, after you said good-bye, I received a letter from the man I’d been following. He didn’t sign the note, but he was the one. He made that clear. He said he now knew we didn’t have his Gutenberg Bible. He was leaving London for the time being, and perhaps we’d meet someday. He didn’t say where he was going, but we know he sailed into Southampton from Cape Town a few weeks ago.”

Blackford nodded once. “After we retrieve those plans tomorrow night, I’ll help you find this killer.”

I believed him.

*   *   *

I AWOKE THE
next morning after sleeping well in the cool country air. Emma brought me a breakfast tray and then sat on the foot of the bed in a most un-lady’s-maid fashion. “Where would be a good place for me to watch tonight?”

“You’ve seen more of the house than I have. Is there a safe place to watch from the gardens, or will there be couples strolling around?”

“There are several young people coming to the ball. I’d bet there’ll be couples on all the paths and in all the parlors.” She rose and looked out my window. “You and Phyllida have the same view of the garden facing toward the village, but yours isn’t blocked by trees. I may camp out here in the window and keep an eye out for the man I saw meeting the baron’s man last night.”

“Will you be able to recognize him in the dark?”

She gave me a confident smile. “It should be a clear night with an almost full moon. I’ll be able to recognize him. Will you be able to dance tonight?”

“We’ll cinch up my ankle and it’ll be fine.” I returned her smile with an assurance I didn’t feel.

She studied me for a moment. “Do you think the coach ran you down deliberately?”

“I don’t know anyone who would do that.” I hadn’t left many enemies in my wake. They were all locked away. Or hanged.

“The person who left the notes might have hired the driver.”

“He’s the younger son of a marquis. He wouldn’t need the money.”

“He might,” Emma said, “or he might owe your anonymous letter writer a favor or a debt. How many of the people here see us as a hindrance to their obtaining the blueprints?”

That was the question. Sir Henry had the wrong idea of what I was up to and thought he was using me. But someone in this group knew about my interest in retrieving the blueprints and wanted me stopped. The group I traveled with knew when we’d reach Cheltenham Spa.

Or could it be the mysterious Sir Jonah Denby? The men at our dinner party the night before hadn’t thought Denby would be interested in the ship design. He knew my real name, but did he know I’d come to Cheltenham Spa?

And if somebody had arranged this, how had they planned to get me into the street to be run over? I’d done that for them. I’d set myself up for what otherwise would have been a very chancy effort to stop me.

Too chancy to be practical. And whoever was behind the theft of the blueprints and Clara’s death was definitely practical.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A
tap on the door was followed by Phyllida walking in, beaming. “Good morning. A few of the ladies are going to the pump room today to take the waters. Do you feel up to joining us?”

Emma and I exchanged a guilty look, since we’d just been discussing my getting run down deliberately. “I’d better rest my foot until tonight. I’d like to be able to dance, and I think the more rest I give it now, the better it’ll be for the ball.”

She shut the door and walked closer. “Is there something going on I should know about?”

I took her hand. My answer was as honest as I could make it when I said, “We don’t want you mixed up in anything dangerous. But if someone should let something odd slip in the course of the day’s conversation, please let us know.”

She appeared to shrink into herself. With a timid voice, she asked, “How will I know if it’s odd?”

“Phyllida, you know how these people think and talk and move. You can spot the one false note in an entire symphony of aristocratic chatter. You’ll know if something’s off.”

Her smile turned more confident. “When we return, I’ll tell you everything I hear. Now, rest that ankle. The duke plans to waltz with you, and he won’t take no for an answer.”

He never did, but this time, I was glad.

The day passed slowly. Rosamond Peters and Lark Bennett came by my room separately to see if I could join them on their jaunt to the pump room to taste the spring waters. Lady Peters seemed genuinely concerned for me. Lady Bennett smiled like a snake who’d already bitten her prey.

Emma brought more ice for my foot. After my skin became cool to the touch, I tried standing. The injured foot ached, and I had a nasty bruise, but both feet bore my weight equally well.

I looked up from where I stared at the floor to Emma and said, “I can do it. The carriage struck me with a sharp blow, but I didn’t twist anything. Let me keep ice on it for the day, and tonight I’ll be ready for a dozen conspiracies.”

“Good, because we have no idea what’s going to happen.”

“Emma, see if you can find out where the valets and lady’s maids spend their time during dinner and the ball. You’ll be able to tell quicker if the baron’s valet is missing that way. And I suspect the baron won’t want to get his hands dirty with the plans if he can help it.” I put my foot back up on the bed with the ice.

“Do you want me to watch from wherever the servants gather rather than at your window?”

“Start with where they wait. If you don’t have any luck there, then try my window. Do you know where Sumner is going to be?”

Emma shook her head. “The duke sent me into the house. I don’t think he wanted me to know.”

“The duke doesn’t like to share information. Unfortunately, it makes solving crimes more complicated for the rest of us.” I didn’t hide the grumble in my tone. Peers might think they were above everyone else, but that attitude created nothing but problems.

“I heard from Sir Broderick. Fogarty and three others are coming out here on the morning train. They’ll be waiting on the road up to the estate and in the park for Snelling.”

“All city dwellers. I wonder how they’ll blend in on an estate.” I was worried for my fellow Archivist Society members. We were all Londoners, and to us this rural area could be on a different planet. We would stand out, and someone wanted us dead.

Emma grinned. “Snelling has the same problem. He’s a Londoner, too.”

“Have you heard how much support we’ll get from the local bobbies?”

“None. They seem to think if the Metropolitan Police can’t handle spies, it certainly isn’t their job. Lord Harwin will no doubt send for them if he needs someone to make an arrest.”

“Wonderful. How did you find all this out?”

“Blackford’s valet. He’s a nice older man who worked for the duke’s father originally. He passes messages discreetly without displaying any interest in what’s going on.”

With a sigh, I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Help me get dressed and downstairs for luncheon. It’s time I started considering where and how those plans could be brought into the house tonight.”

I was tired of lying around. It was past time for me to get involved in this investigation.

I couldn’t pull my half boot on, let alone lace it up tightly to protect my ankle. The only shoe I could get on my tender, swollen foot was my dancing slipper, so I wore the pair with an afternoon dress. The black satin slippers looked silly with the high-necked, accordion-pleated top in lavender and a simply cut skirt in the same color decorated with beige lace. I hoped either no one noticed or my skirt hid the slippers from view. Being thought a Philistine wouldn’t help me escape notice as I hunted for the burglar and the naval plans.

I was able to climb down the stairs on my own with the aid of the massive banister and wandered the main floor without drawing attention to myself. The house was huge. Any hope of catching anyone doing anything in all these rooms seemed impossible.

I found the dining room almost by accident and discovered more than a half-dozen people seated around the huge polished table enjoying their first course. The men rose as I entered. I wasn’t surprised to see the duke, Lord Harwin, Baron von Steubfeld, and Sir Henry Stanford. The presence of two other men, Sir William Darby from Whitehall’s spy apparatus and Mr. Frederick Nobles, Scotland Yard’s liaison with Whitehall, did surprise me. And I was puzzled to see an older man at the table with the youngster who nearly ran me down the day before.

“Mrs. Monthalf,” the butler intoned.

The men all nodded to me.

“Well, I’m glad to see she hasn’t suffered any lasting injury,” the older man grumbled.

The younger man smiled at me. “So am I. Please believe me when I say I am grievously sorry for my actions.”

He was too much of a young rogue, grinning boyishly at me, to believe him, but I decided forgiveness would pay better results. “All will be forgiven if I can dance a waltz with the duke tonight.”

“I certainly hope so. You’re far too pretty to be sitting on the sidelines,” the young man said.

I smiled at the compliment as the butler produced a chair next to the duke and set a place at the table for me. Blackford said, “Georgina, this is the Marquis of Tewes and his younger son, Lord Charles Wilson. Gentlemen, Mrs. Georgina Monthalf.”

As soon as I sat, a bowl of soup appeared silently in front of me and the men returned to their lunch. Sir William sat across from me, and I wasn’t certain if I should know his name. “Excuse me. The accident seemed to have rattled my brains. Have we met?”

Sir William Darby flashed a glance at the duke and said, “I don’t believe so.”

The duke made the introductions. We made small talk through luncheon, when I learned that Sir William and Mr. Nobles were in the neighborhood and stopped by to pay their respects to our host, a friend of Sir William’s father. Lady Harwin, leaving on the outing with her guests, had invited them to the ball that evening, and Lord Harwin had invited them to lunch.

I was amazed at how, in the rarified world of the aristocracy, everyone knew everyone else.

After luncheon, Mr. Nobles asked to see the garden. When the rest of the men went outside, Sir William delayed, fascinated by some paintings. I expressed an interest in the same paintings, and we began to study them together.

Even with everyone else outside, Sir William spoke quietly. “We have Snelling under watch in the village. When he comes out here tonight, we’ll follow to see the handoff and then grab everyone at once. If it’s one of the Germans, we’ll be able to recover the drawings but we’ll have to let the man go. Diplomatic immunity and all that.”

“‘If’?”

“It could be an English partygoer who’ll act as the middleman.”

“Lady Bennett,” I said. “Or Sir Henry?”

“Quite possibly.”

“And our role?”

“Keep a close eye on the attendees at the ball. If one of them slips out of the room, follow them, but don’t engage. We will handle that part of the plan.”

“Four members of the Archivist Society will be out on the grounds, aiding the hunt for Snelling. If you don’t move fast enough, we will engage.” I stared at Sir William until he looked away.

When he looked back at me, he was smiling. “I believe you would.”

“Good. Now, do you have any idea about what time this will occur?”

“All we know is tonight.”

“Have you checked out all the guests at the other big houses nearby?”

“Everyone checks out, although”—he hesitated—“our inquiries didn’t go very deep.”

“So everyone at the ball tonight is a possible suspect. Wonderful.”

Sir William glanced at me. “The only people we’ll need to watch at the ball will be people with a connection to Baron von Steubfeld.”

I gave up any pretense of studying the paintings. “We don’t know for certain von Steubfeld’s role in the theft. The Germans could be one of a handful of bidders. Stanford, or someone we haven’t considered, might be trying to sell the plans for cash.”

“Then we won’t know who’s behind this until Snelling makes his move.” Sir William didn’t look happy.

“Precisely.” How I would love to learn who’d hired Snelling before the ball.

“We talked to Sir Jonah Denby. He knows nothing about the missing warship blueprints. He’s never heard of you. He seemed quite amazed that anyone would think he was interested in a theft.”

“And you believe him?”

“Yes.”

Sir William sounded so certain that I asked, “What does he look like?”

“Like any other midlevel civil servant.”

“Does he have green eyes? Does he walk quickly? Does he have weathered skin?”

“He has pale skin and walks with a limp. He has a withered leg, so he’s never been an outdoorsman. Uses a cane to get around.” Sir William thought for a moment. “His eyes are pale. I don’t remember the color.”

A chill ran down my arms. “Definitely not the same man.”

“Then who is he?” Sir William asked.

That was the question. He knew my real name, and he was out there somewhere following our investigation. Had he sent the threatening letters? I wished I’d sought a physical description of Denby earlier and not worried so much about his job and his associates.

The sound of a door opening and footsteps made me turn back to the painting. Sir William said, “I’d better get Nobles or he’ll drag everyone around to look at every plant. He’s fascinated by gardens.”

“He was beyond me as soon as he said something other than ‘rose’ or ‘daisy.’” Sir Henry came forward and nodded to us. Sir William returned the nod and retraced Sir Henry’s steps.

I said, “I’d like to speak to you, Sir Henry.”

“About Clara’s death? Or other matters?”

“Yes.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s go into the library. We won’t be interrupted there.”

We walked down the hall, Sir Henry certain of our destination. After we entered, he closed the door and stood there, waiting for me to speak.

Sir Henry expected me to be meek as befitting a traditionally raised widow. That was far from my background, but I’d found it was better to conform to the other person’s image of me if I wanted the answers to the questions I asked. I recited
Be meek
in my mind a few times before I looked at the Oriental carpet and said, “What do you want me to do?”

“Search Lady Peters’s room.”

My gaze flew to his face. “Why?”

“She has something of mine that I want.”

“What is this thing?”

“A letter from me to a member of the Admiralty upper echelon, requesting a chance to bid on the new warship. In the same letter, I mentioned that his nephew had expressed an interest in a management position in the shipyard and I would be making my choice soon. I considered them to be two separate issues, but Lady Peters said the letter is open to interpretation.”

I agreed with Lady Peters. Although Sir Henry would deny it, my interpretation would be bribery. “How did she get the letter?”

“She was being squired about town by Lord Hastings at the time I wrote the letter. She must have stolen it from him,” Sir Henry grumbled.

Lord Hastings was in the highest levels of the Admiralty. Having heard its contents, I wanted to get the letter. Once I had it, I didn’t plan to hand the letter over to Sir Henry. “What does this letter look like?”

“Two pages, good paper, embossed with my company’s name. Go upstairs and do it now while the ladies are out taking the waters.”

“Why do you think the letter is in her room? Why wouldn’t she have left it in London?”

“She brought it along this week to exchange for Gattenger’s blueprints.”

I struggled to keep my voice calm. “You have the blueprints Clara was killed over? I thought you loved her.”

“Oh, I did. Unlike Gattenger, I valued Clara. I adored her. I would never allow her to be harmed.”

“But she was killed by the person who stole the blueprints. Did you hire the thief?”

He grabbed my arms, but not hard like he had before. “I didn’t hire him. I believed Gattenger burned the drawings until you told me he was certain the ship was what he’d promised. That’s when I went looking for the thief.”

“You found him?” That was news. Blackford and I had had no luck speaking to him.

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