The Counterfeit Lady (23 page)

“How unfortunate. And after your clever search of Lady Harwin’s main floor looking for stolen documents.”

I stared at her, wondering how much she had guessed. “Thank you.”

“The Duke of Blackford must like clever women. Of course, he liked Lady Peters, and I’m now told she was a spy.”

“I liked Lady Peters. I’m sorry she killed a man and endangered England’s naval superiority.”

“I feel so sorry for her son. Losing both his parents so young,” a woman’s voice said.

“I know his father’s sister. She, her husband, and their children love that little boy. They’ve been raising him as much as his mother has,” another upper-class woman’s voice said.

“Sounds like Lady Peters was engaged in men’s work to me. Aren’t you afraid being clever will make you too masculine to attract a duke?” Lady Ormond’s smile was pure venom.

“Cleverness isn’t masculine. I can think of several married ladies who are clever.” I turned to Lady Harwin. “I’ve had a wonderful time in your lovely home. I’m so sorry events ruined your delightful party.”

“Not at all.” Lady Harwin gave me a cheery grin. “I’ve never known such excitement. I can’t wait to tell my friends about what happened. They’ll all want to come and visit the scene of murder and espionage. Our terrace will be the envy of all.”

“Oh, Celeste, you’d be too ashamed,” Lady Ormond said.

“Nonsense, Mildred. It was almost like a play. The events happened here, but we didn’t know the dead man. He was a burglar, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, he was,” I answered when no one else would.

“Well, there, you see? Nothing to do with us. Events just came and happened here.” She smiled gleefully around the room. “Such excitement. And the good and loyal subjects of the crown triumphed. Thank you, Mrs. Monthalf, for bringing us such a diversion.”

I needed to disabuse her of that idea immediately. “I’m afraid I didn’t bring you anything. Lady Peters and the burglar brought the excitement here. I just went on a scavenger hunt and found the missing plans. Nothing you couldn’t have done.”

“But you were the one who saved England. You, a gentlewoman. Makes me proud to know you.”

“But no more likely to become a duchess,” Lady Ormond sniffed.

“A duchess? Of course not. But perhaps the wife of a baronet. Or one of these modern industrialists you read about. I’d imagine they’d want a wife with spunk,” Lady Harwin said.

The aristocrats present had considered me for duchess material and found me lacking. I wondered what they’d say if they knew how we’d deceived them. The person I couldn’t deceive was myself. I knew I could never be a duchess. But, oh, how I wanted to be.

W
E
returned to London the next day and dropped Phyllida off to oversee the packing up of our borrowed town house. Then we dropped Emma off at Fenchurch’s Books, and Blackford and I traveled on to Newgate Prison to talk to Ken Gattenger.

He had already been taken to the visitors’ room by the time we marched down the hallways, our steps ringing in the stone passageways. He stared at us but didn’t speak until we sat across from him. “Well?”

“The blueprints have been recovered and are back in the Admiralty records room. The records room clerk on the German payroll has been apprehended. Despite my doubts, Sir Henry Stanford appears to have had no hand in the theft or the death of your wife,” Blackford said.

“Thank goodness the drawings are safe. And you heard there was nothing wrong with my calculations? You know my new warship design is everything I promised it would be? You do realize that means I never needed to take those drawings out that night and Clara wouldn’t have died.” Tears flowed down his cheeks.

Blackford cleared his throat and looked away.

I reached out and took his hand. “The man who killed Clara is dead. He was killed for the blueprints, and the person who took your drawings has been captured.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

I had no answer for that. I said, “Your solicitor is working on having the treason and murder charges dropped. You never responded in writing to the letter from the German embassy, did you?”

“No. Only verbally. And I never agreed. Not really. I ended up turning them down almost immediately.”

“Good. Then your solicitor should succeed. Once he does, you’ll be able to walk out of here a free man.”

Gattenger shook his head. “Free. And alone. I’m going to leave London, perhaps leave England. I can’t stay here. Not after what has happened. Would you have the servants close up the house and give them good references? None of this is their fault.”

“What about your ship designs?” Blackford thundered.

“The Admiralty has everything I’ve done. I don’t care about them anymore. Perhaps I’ll go to Paris and join the Expressionists. I know I’ll never draw another ship.”

“Think what a loss this would be to your country.”

Gattenger looked at the duke and shrugged his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter to me now. Nothing does.”

“Where were you the night before Clara died?”

He hadn’t expected my question. His gaze shifted between the duke and me. “I was at home.”

I glared at him. “Don’t lie to me. Where were you? We know you weren’t home in the evening.”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“If it doesn’t matter, why don’t you tell us?”

He ran his hands through his fair hair. “I went to see Lord Watson. The present Lord Watson.”

“Who?”

“Mrs. Gattenger’s cousin. The man who inherited her father’s title,” Blackford told me.

“His title. His house. His money,” Gattenger said. “I knew Clara would be in danger if the man who’d threatened me the night before decided to attack me at home. So I went to Lord Watson and begged him to take Clara in for a little while to keep her safe.”

“Did you tell him why?” the duke asked.

“No. Only that I’d made a stupid mistake and I’d been threatened. I wasn’t afraid for me, but I wanted Clara where she’d be safe. Lord Watson employs a butler and a footman. A larger staff for a larger house where she’d be protected.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s recently married, and he told me he feared I was saddling him with his cousin so I could be free to do as I liked. I told him nothing could be further from the truth.”

“So he said no?” I asked.

“He said he’d think about it.”

Lord Watson hadn’t invited Clara back to her childhood home. I’d never met the man and already I didn’t like him. “Did you tell Clara this?”

“How could I tell her Lord Watson, her cousin, wouldn’t take her in for her own safety? If only he had.”

“His testimony may be enough to have your charges dropped. I’ll tell your solicitor and he’ll soon have you a free man,” Blackford said.

“Watson’s never liked me. Finding out I told him the truth will come as a shock to him.” Gattenger stared at us with a look of pure devastation. “Clara’s gone. There’s nothing left for me.”

*   *   *

BLACKFORD STEWED THE
entire ride across London to my shop. I didn’t say a word. I understood Gattenger’s pain. He’d have to find his own way, alone, into his future.

Just as I would eventually have to face a future without Blackford. A future without love.

Once we arrived at the bookshop, Blackford handed me down to the street. I dashed inside to find Frances waiting on a customer while Grace, Emma, Jacob, and Sumner carried on a hushed conversation between two rows of bookshelves.

I took a deep breath of warm, slightly musty air and felt at home. My bookshop was still in one piece. Dickens ran over to greet me, swiped at my hem with the claws extended from his paw, and stomped out the front door of the shop. I watched him, fascinated. I had never seen a cat stomp before.

I had also never seen a duke hold a door open for a cat.

“I’m glad to see you’re all right,” I said, hurrying over to the four. I knew Blackford would follow.

“Thanks to Sumner. The baron’s valet tried to kill me last night after I saw him arguing with one of the Admiralty clerks. The clerk was beaten up worse than I was,” Jacob said. One eye was blackened and he had a bandage on that side of his head. I could see the bottom of another bandage sticking out below his shirt cuff.

Fortunately, Sumner showed no ill effects from the encounter, because Emma now stood a modest few feet from him, looking him over. The protective expression on her face told me I didn’t want to think about what Emma would do if Sumner had been hurt.

He was staring back at her and grinning. “Sir William Darby spoke to Sir Broderick yesterday afternoon. He said you looked a treat in a pale blue dress. Any chance the rest of us will get to see you in it?”

Emma raised her eyebrows but didn’t respond.

“You’ve heard about what transpired with Lady Peters, von Steubfeld, and Snelling, and no one thought to report what happened here?” the duke asked in an outraged voice.

Sumner stopped grinning and stepped forward, his rigid posture left over from his army service. “We sent a telegram to Cheltenham Spa this morning, only to receive a reply saying the telegram was undeliverable since you were on a train to London. We were discussing the best way to reach you when you walked in, Your Grace.”

“So putting you in the Admiralty records room paid off, Jacob? The clerk who’s been helping von Steubfeld was arrested?” I asked.

“Yes. The baron paid the young man well enough to tip him off, but not well enough to keep his mouth shut when beaten up and facing a long prison sentence,” Jacob said. “It turned out the clerk had been instructed to carry on a conversation on the weaknesses of Gattenger’s ship design within hearing of Sir Henry, knowing Sir Henry was most likely to press Gattenger on the issue. When Gattenger requested a full set of blueprints to take home an hour later, the clerk told the baron, putting the plan into action.”

“Baron von Steubfeld must have immediately hired Snelling for that night, having used his services before, and then visited Lady Bennett to tell her to pass along the rumor about Gattenger and Lady Peters to Clara. Having put all the pieces of his plan into action, the baron sat back and waited. Evil man.” I shut my eyes, thinking how von Steubfeld’s actions had led to two deaths.

“Poor Ken and Clara,” Emma said. “They didn’t deserve this. The baron thought they’d argue somewhere other than the study?”

Blackford said, “He didn’t know them or their household. Von Steubfeld has lost his effectiveness as a spymaster. That will have to be his punishment for now.”

“Doesn’t seem sufficient,” Sumner said.

The duke gave him a dark look. “I said,
for now
.”

The other faces held the same expression of dawning recognition as mine.

“What goes around comes back,” Frances said. “And are you back for good, Georgia?”

I glanced around the shop. No customers. “Yes. How has it gone?”

“Well, cheap editions on anything to do with royal weddings and grand duchesses and Russians have been flying out of here as quickly as we shelve them. Sir Broderick said to raise our order, and it’s paid off.”

“We’ve only been gone a few days. What has happened?”

“They just announced the engagement of a Russian grand duchess to the son of a cousin of our queen. The wedding will take place next spring, but in the meantime, the Russians are spending a long visit here. Apparently they like our warm English summers.” Frances shrugged and picked up a feather duster.

“It doesn’t feel so warm today.” Had I gotten used to sweltering?

“The weather has been pleasant the last two days. I hope it keeps up,” Grace told us, turning back to the books she’d been shelving.

“Come, Sumner. We need to be about our business, and Georgia and her friends need to reacquaint themselves with their books,” the duke said.

Sumner gave Frances and Grace a bow, turned a heated look on Emma, and walked out of the store.

“Georgia, walk outside with me.” I moved to where the duke stood, and he gave me his arm. Once we stepped outside the door, he faced me and said, “I won’t wait so long to see you again, Georgia.”

“You think you’ll have another case for the Archivist Society soon?” I hurried to say, staring at the sidewalk.

When I glanced up, his expression said he didn’t find my nervous response worthy of either of us. “As long as we have the Georgina Monthalf identity in place, why don’t we go out to the theater or the opera on occasion? I enjoy your company.”

“No, Your Grace. As people at the house party kept reminding me, you need to find a duchess. And since, with your help, I now know his name—”

“Names,” he reminded me.

“I need to find my parents’ killer.”

He gave me a rueful smile. “I’m not certain I like coming in second to a murderer. Blast it, Georgia, you’ve ruined me for vapid misses and afternoons spent in my club without any purpose but making money. I find I like seeking justice and serving my country. You’ve brought a change in my outlook.”

“You could help me locate Count Farkas.”

He searched my face, hope in his eyes. “Anything, if it means I see you more often. You have indeed become habit-forming.”

I held his gaze. “I’m flattered, Your Grace. I will never forget waltzing with you. But we both know you won’t marry a middle-class bookseller. And after my experience as Georgina Monthalf, I’ve realized I won’t accept any close acquaintance with you that’s less than marriage. I am so sorry. If it’s any consolation, it’s breaking my heart.”

He opened his mouth and shut it without making a sound. He then studied the sky and looked at the ground before he lifted his head and said, “I wish it could be otherwise. But if you won’t accept anything else, then I’ll have to settle for seeing you on another investigation very soon.”

He understood I’d never be his mistress. The thought that all we’d ever have were investigations bruised my heart.

“Von Steubfeld is still in England and trying to steal our secrets. The Russians have arrived, followed by intrigue and anarchists. And now we can search for your parents’ killer by name. It will be a turbulent autumn. Georgia, whenever you need to, send for me. And if your country can use your help, I will call on you.” He bowed to kiss my hand and walked off to join Sumner in his tall antique carriage.

As soon as his coach began to roll away, I bit my lip and struggled to smooth my ragged breathing. I caught myself clutching the back of my glove where he’d kissed me and pulled my other hand away. Once I had my emotions under control, I walked inside my shop. I glanced around, marveling at it once again. The shop was mine, and my friends had taken good care of things. I needn’t have worried.

Frances walked over to me, a letter in her hand. “This came in the afternoon post yesterday. Since it was marked private, I set it aside for you.”

The handwriting on the envelope reminded me of the hand on the letter I’d hidden away a few months before. I ripped open the envelope and read the note inside.

Dear Georgia, or should I call you Georgina Monthalf,

Congratulations on catching a spy and rescuing blueprints the British navy finds so important. By now you must know my name and that I am Hungarian. I did not tell Sir Wallace not to tell you my name, but I made certain he couldn’t tell you where I am traveling next.

Do not waste your time looking for me. I have left England and do not know when, if ever, I will return. Give up your dreams of revenge and live your life. It is what I wish for you, and I’m sure it is what your parents would have wanted for you, as well.

Your friend,

V. Farkas

Friend? I would have torn up the single sheet of good writing paper in a fury if I hadn’t stopped myself. I tucked it away under the counter with the other note, the deep blue of the ink burning the words into my brain long after I could no longer see them.