The Counterfeit Lady (5 page)

I drew him back to my office in case anyone should come into the shop. “Gattenger caught a thief stealing the blueprints from his study. He drew a picture of the man, which we’re showing to Scotland Yard. Do you have any information you can share with us?”

“Regrettably, not yet.”

“But Scotland Yard says Whitehall has proof of Gattenger’s guilt. What proof?” I didn’t attempt to hide the demand in my tone.

When he smiled, the wrinkles on his weathered face deepened. “I can’t tell you at this time. I’m sure I’ll be speaking to you soon. Good day, Miss Fenchurch.”

Setting his top hat on his silver hair, he walked out of the shop with a jaunty step.

*   *   *

A LITTLE MORE
than a week after our Archivist Society meeting in Sir Broderick’s study, Phyllida came into the shop with a message from the Duke of Blackford. Emma and Frances were both helping customers look for ordinary books, and I was assisting an antiquarian collector. I excused myself and read the note while my customer examined the volume.

The duke wrote that some of our clothes from Madame Leclerc’s had arrived at the house in Mayfair. We would need to go there immediately. Phyllida and I had an invitation to attend Lord Francis’s musical evening that night. I muttered, “Tonight? And he wants us to leave immediately? He doesn’t give us much notice, does he?”

“You’ve known this day was coming for the past week. How much more time do you need?” Phyllida asked.

“Are you closing up shop and leaving?” the antiquarian customer asked.

“No. I’m going to be in and out of the shop for the next several days on—family business. I didn’t realize I’d be called to a meeting tonight.”

“Will Sir Broderick be handling your antiquarian business in your absence?” I saw a gleam in the man’s eye.

“Yes.” And it gave me no pleasure to admit that. Sir Broderick’s sympathies lay with the buyer. He had a vast, well-known book collection. I hoped this time he’d remember he was acting for the seller.

“Perhaps I’ll just finish my negotiations with him.” The man shut the book and turned to leave, still clutching the volume.

“No. I have time to finish our business.” I held out my white-cotton-gloved hand.

Blushing at his lapse in trying to leave with unpaid-for goods, he handed the book over while Phyllida said, “Georgia, he said immediately.”

“You go ahead, Aunt. Emma and I will catch up.”

She planted herself across the counter from me. “I’m the only one who knows where we’re meeting.”

“Then you’ll have to wait. Have you closed up the flat?”

“No.”

“Collect everything you think we might need tonight and then come back for us. That should give us enough time to negotiate.” I gave my customer a smile.

He reached inside his coat pocket for his wallet, his jaw raised pugnaciously. “Twenty-four, ten, and sixpence. That’s my final offer.”

Since that was ten and sixpence more than I expected, I began to wrap his purchase. At that moment, Sumner came into the shop. After a nod to me, he walked over to wait until Emma was available.

Emma and I finished with our customers at the same time, and I crossed the shop to talk to Sumner. “What’s happened?” I whispered.

“I met with Jacob at a pie shop this morning before starting time in the records room. He’s been in the Admiralty records room three days, and already he can eliminate most of his coworkers. There’s one who’s been teased about his sudden financial improvement, but he won’t say where the money came from. Makes a joke about it. Jacob is trying to pin him down, but so far he’s been cagey.

“Sir Broderick sent me over to fill you in and to ask if you need any help. I’m not to meet with Jacob again until the day after tomorrow.”

“You’ll have to come to our house in Mayfair. We’ve been summoned to begin that part of the investigation this afternoon,” I told him.

“What reason do I give for calling at a house in Mayfair?” Sumner asked.

“Play the role of my gentleman caller,” Emma said. “I think Phyllida and Georgina will be lenient employers, as long as I get my work done.”

I nodded. “Good idea.”

Emma and Sumner grinned like a couple of kids given a holiday. Even the scarred side of Sumner’s face showed a hint of a smile.

The bell over the shop door rang and, seeing Frances was busy, I went to greet our new customer. When I glanced over a few minutes later, Sumner and Emma were carrying on a hushed conversation, using hand gestures for emphasis. I couldn’t tell what they were discussing, but Emma did not look pleased.

We’d finished with our customers by the time Phyllida reappeared with a holdall. Frances wished us well and told me she could handle the rest of the day in the shop by herself. Emma took Phyllida’s bag and they walked outside. After hurried last-minute instructions to Frances, I followed them and flagged down a hire carriage that looked reputable. The inside had been swept recently and the seats weren’t torn, so we wouldn’t look out of place when we arrived in Mayfair.

The house the duke and Phyllida had chosen was on a quiet side street, its brick front measuring four windows wide on the floors above the entrance. We walked up the three front steps rising over the kitchen entrance, Emma taking the holdall. The front door was opened by a young man in livery. “Welcome, your ladyship.”

Phyllida smiled at him. “Thomas, our cousin Mrs. Monthalf has arrived. Georgina, this is our footman, Thomas. You’ll meet the rest of the staff shortly. Emma, if you’ll take the case upstairs to Mrs. Monthalf’s room. Second door on the left. I hope you’ll like it, Georgina.”

“I’m sure I will. Everything’s been a bit overwhelming since I arrived.”

“Prepare to be even more overwhelmed. We’re attending Lady Francis’s musical evening tonight, and her entertainments are always inspiring.”

All this conversation in front of the staff was a trial if you weren’t born to that world, and I wasn’t. At home, I never had to deal with cleaners and tradesmen, because Phyllida handled all that for me while I was in the bookshop. Now we’d have servants around all the time. What did the wealthy do during the day if they weren’t working, while their servants kept busy around them? “May I see the house?”

“Of course.” Phyllida took me on a guided tour of the ground floor (dining room and morning room) and the first floor (main parlor and back parlor/study), and then we climbed to the second floor. Her bedroom was next door to mine, also facing the street, but smaller. Mine had the dressing room that led to the back room where Emma would sleep. This high up, with all the bedroom doors and windows open, we were blessed with a little breeze.

“Both our rooms have sea chests,” Emma whispered, “where our clothes from Madame Leclerc’s are packed. Give me a hand in unpacking.”

We did, while Phyllida kept a watch out for any servants. One of the toughest things I’d face was hiding my lifelong habit of jumping in and helping at whatever task needed to be done.

I couldn’t resist running my fingers over the dresses Madame Leclerc had made. The fabrics, silk and satin, taffeta and thin cotton, cashmere and lace, whispered against my skin. Emma and I held them to ourselves and swung around, the colors flashing in the sunlight, before we hung them in the wardrobe.

One part of this investigation would be a pleasure. I’d had neither the money nor the reason to dress in finery before.

Before we were half finished, carters arrived with two more sea chests, one carried up to Phyllida’s room and one to mine. I tipped the two men, and a maid showed them out. We opened them to find more silks, more colors, and new shifts and petticoats and nightgowns in soft, cool cotton. My hands slid over everything, reveling in the freshness while the rest of London felt stale.

We’d almost finished when we heard a jangle like my shop doorbell. A moment later, we heard male voices and then footsteps on the stairs. A maid stood in the doorway to my room, a silver tray in her hands.

Phyllida reached out and picked up the calling card on its shiny surface. “Well, well. The Duke of Blackford has come to call.”

P
HYLLIDA
and I walked downstairs to find Blackford waiting for us in the parlor. He rose when we walked into the room decorated in dark purple and light blue. I curtsied and then walked over to the first window and shoved the draperies back as far as possible to get more light into the room. Then I opened the window.

“You don’t like the house?” Blackford asked.

“It’s by far the nicest leased house I’ve ever seen. Right now, I hope to get a breeze through the room.” I opened the draperies in the second window and tugged until the sash rose a few inches.

“What have you learned so far?”

“I have customers who will cheat me if they deal with Sir Broderick in my absence.” I shoved the third window drapes back and tugged on the wooden frame. It was stuck. “I also learned this afternoon
I’m going to Lord and Lady Francis’s musical evening tonight.”

“You sound upset.”

“I wish you would tell me things before the last moment.” I yanked on the window. Still stuck. “Is Phyllida also invited?”

“Yes. But you’re the one who needs to flirt with me so we can begin our affair in record time.”

Affair? Record time?
I jerked on the window and it flew up. I set the lace curtains to rights and turned to face the duke. “Aren’t you supposed to flirt with me?”

“I will, Mrs. Monthalf, but you have to flirt back. From the look on your face, I’d say that won’t happen.”

“What kind of a woman do you think I am?” I didn’t think wealthy Mrs. Monthalf would fall for a duke so quickly.

Phyllida looked from one to the other of us and slipped from the room.

The duke walked over to me and cupped my face in his hand. He didn’t squeeze my cheeks or hurt me in any way, but I couldn’t have moved if I tried. And I didn’t want to try. Standing so close to him I could smell old leather and older whiskey. “I think you’re a woman who was in love with me when we were younger, but I failed to ask for your hand and Mr. Monthalf did. You left and I never saw you again. You’re back in my life now, and I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

He held my gaze with his dark, mesmerizing eyes, and I felt the power of his declaration. For an instant, I thought he was talking to me. My heart soared. Then I remembered I was middle-class, he was a duke, and he was talking about the woman I was pretending to be. The duke’s primary interest was the fate of an empire, which rested on finding the plans for a warship.

Blast
.

After I recovered from my deflating realization, I asked, “Where did we meet, Your Grace? Here in London?”

“Too many people would wonder why they couldn’t remember you. I spent time in India. You could have been living with your British army officer father. Then you married Monthalf and moved to another colony, and I came home.”

“Where were you? Calcutta? In how much danger are we of meeting someone who would have known my father or me?”

“Yes, Calcutta will do nicely. I don’t know of anyone involved in this who’s been to India. And where did you and Phyllida decide you moved after your wedding?”

“Singapore. She had a Monthalf cousin, Edgar, who was in business there. He never married and died a few years ago. Are we in any danger of being discovered from that choice?”

“Not that I know of.”

The duke still held my face in his bare hand, skin touching skin. I didn’t move, not wanting the moment to end.

His expression turned grim. “You’ve been against playing the role of a widow since we began planning this investigation. Is this because you were a mistress who never took your wedding vows?”

I jerked backward, the mood between us broken. “No. As a single woman, I’m against leaving my shop, my source of income, in the hands of others while we search for Clara Gattenger’s killer.”

“And the blueprints to the greatest warship ever designed.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I took a full step backward and blinked away my tears. “Are you worried I can’t play my role convincingly because he died before we reached the altar?”

“No. I’m worried you won’t be able to play your part convincingly because it will hurt too much.”

I was surprised at the kindness I heard in his voice. “This role has nothing to do with my real life.”

“Nevertheless, you’d be less than human if it didn’t bother you.”

I looked into his eyes, letting him see into my deepest being. His genuine concern demanded complete honesty. “Your Grace, if there were any man today I’d let into my bed, it would be you.”

He took my hand and raised it to his lips. The skin of his lips was slightly rough against my flesh. Would they feel as rough if I kissed him? “I’m honored.” He lowered my hand. “What happened to your lover?”

“We had had a long, cold winter. Just as we entered spring and began to plan our wedding day, he came down with a fever. It quickly grew worse and traveled to his brain. He died the day before they read the banns the second time.”

“I’m sorry. And I’m flattered you’re letting me follow him, if only as a pretend lover.”

I held his gaze for a long time as I wrapped his startling consideration around me. Then I shook my head and said, “How do we want to begin our affair tonight?”

“Before the musical performance begins at the Francises’, we’ll meet and exclaim over how long it’s been. That will give me an opening to sit with you and we can begin our flirtation.” He strode away from me, running a hand through his hair.

A breeze fluttered through the window, cooling my heated skin. I closed my eyes and drank in the refreshing air, nearly missing his next words.

“Baron von Steubfeld will be in attendance tonight. We need to keep him aware that his every move is being scrutinized.”

I opened my eyes and stared at him. “Why do you think the drawings haven’t already been passed to him and then sent by diplomatic pouch to Berlin?”

With perfect timing, Phyllida reentered the room. I suspected she had eavesdropped. My cheeks grew warm despite my suspicion that Phyllida already knew my fiancé had been my lover.

“We know the baron hasn’t received them yet,” Blackford said.

“How?”

The duke waved me closer and lowered his voice as he stood between Phyllida and me. “We’ve been reading privileged diplomatic messages between von Steubfeld and Berlin. The baron complained in a telegram this morning that he’s been watched too closely to take possession of the plans yet.”

I was shocked. Such things were not done. I didn’t even think they were possible. “You can’t do that,” I said, my voice rising. “That was a private message from an embassy to its government.”

His dark look made me clamp my mouth shut. “That it was in code made our task even more difficult. We aren’t supposed to read other nations’ messages. Neither is Germany or any other country. However, on those few occasions when we gain access to dispatches, we do. So does everyone else.”

“It would start a war if anyone found out,” I whispered.

“That’s why I must trust you and Lady Phyllida with complete discretion.”

We both nodded. Then I had to ask, “Why are you trusting us with this? You didn’t have to tell us anything.”

“You are risking not only social embarrassment but physical danger by taking part in our efforts to stop the transfer of those plans. Someone has already killed to obtain them. They won’t shy away from another murder.”

He looked at Phyllida. “I shouldn’t be asking you to do this.”

“Clara died trying to prevent those warship plans from falling into the wrong hands. The least I can do is see that her death is avenged.” Phyllida crossed her arms over her chest and looked from the duke to me as if she thought someone would try to stop her.

My mind was working furiously. “If Baron von Steubfeld hasn’t been able to get the drawings because he’s too closely watched, he’ll have to change his situation so his movements aren’t so easily observed. Or use someone else to handle them.”

“We know. We have our ears open for word on how he plans to change the circumstances.”

“Was that the royal ‘we,’ Your Grace?”

The tiniest hint of a smirk crossed his mouth. “You didn’t think it was only the Archivist Society working on a problem of national importance, did you?”

Once again, his attitude annoyed me. “Is there anything else we need to know today? We won’t be able to speak freely tonight. Not if we’re going to deliberately draw an audience.”

“I suspect Sir Henry Stanford. He’s been watched closely, but he’s not been to the embassy. He did dine with Baron von Steubfeld two nights ago in a restaurant, but no packages passed between them.”

There was danger in focusing too closely on only a few people. “What about someone else in the German embassy?”

“Most of the staff at the embassy went home for the summer before the theft. No one has left the country since the burglary, and Scotland Yard has been watching all those still here.”

“There are three shipbuilders who’ve seen the design to bid on it. Why are you only focusing on Stanford?”

“The other two weren’t in the Admiralty when Gattenger took out a copy of the plans. They’ve never met von Steubfeld and they aren’t mired in debt. They’re being observed, but there’s no sign either of them is involved.”

I moved closer to the duke and looked him in the eye. “What has caused this bitterness between yourself and Stanford?”

“Stanford owes a great deal of money from the expansion of his shipyard. One of the people he owes is me. He’s in arrears in his payments and he and I have had nasty words in public.”

That might be the only public reason anyone knew of for their argument, but such animosity over a business loan seemed out of character for the duke. “I don’t believe you.”

“Sorry, Georgina, but sometimes men fall out over investments. It’s really that simple.”

I didn’t believe him. No, that wasn’t entirely true. I’d put my faith in Blackford before and been rewarded. I trusted him to deliver on his promises. I’d also learned that not everything he said was the truth. “I need to know more about Stanford before I can approach him.”

Blackford shrugged. “He’s a widower with a full head of dark hair heavily mixed with gray, although he’s only in his early forties. He knows how to attract the attention of women, but he doesn’t have any long-standing relationships, if you get my drift.”

He meant lovers or mistresses. That helped if I were to attract his attention and find out his connection to the Germans. I gave Phyllida a smile and said, “We’d better not take anything at face value with these people. Espionage isn’t the usual line of work for the Archivist Society.”

Phyllida took my hand. “I hope they take us at face value, Georgina. Otherwise, everything we’ve done is for naught, and poor Kenny will hang.”

*   *   *

KNOWING I NEEDED
to make a good impression on everyone at Lord Francis’s that night while flirting with the duke, Emma set to work to make me look attractive.

Emma was breathtakingly beautiful. She should have been playing this role, but I would have been jealous knowing she was flirting with the duke.

Someday Blackford would have to marry to provide an heir and I’d envy the woman. In the meantime, I was determined to play my role to perfection. I wanted him to love me. Or at least admire me.

“I think—hold still—just one more pin. No, we need another one here. This would be easier, Georgia, if your hair wasn’t so thick,” Emma mumbled around a hairpin.

“Georgina,” I muttered back.

“Yes. Georgina. Or rather, ma’am. There. That’s got it. Now for some jewels. Something understated, I think.”

“I don’t have anything understated.”

Emma was looking through the jewel box we’d been lent for my role, ignoring me. There was a knock on the door before Phyllida came in and joined her. I sat at my dressing table, looking in the mirror at their reflections as they looked at various pieces, looked at me, and shook their heads.

“It can’t be that bad,” I finally told them.

“You have to look like you belong there, but not fade into just another society matron. We want all the old cats to see more in the duke’s interest in you than simply a matter of a former acquaintance.” Phyllida came up behind me and lifted my chin. Then she forced my shoulders back. “You must move like a lady.”

Hard to do when I was accustomed to moving stacks of books around. “I’m not supposed to know the duke will be there.”

“All the more reason for you to look your best. You’re stepping out in London society for the first time, and you know you’ll be judged by everyone there. You’ve lived in the colonies for years. Now you’re in a foreign land among strangers and you want to make friends. If you want to get more invitations, you need to look like one of them, but a little bit more. Not too much more. Understand?” Phyllida pulled a pair of diamond earrings from the jewelry box. “These will do.”

Emma hooked the long strands of tiny diamonds in my ears. “They emphasize your long neck.”

They did. They also must have cost a fortune. I was immediately worried about losing one.

“A necklace, do you think?” Emma asked.

“No. She’s a widow. She doesn’t want to look like she’s advertising for another husband. That would set everyone against her. She’s trying to fit in. I think she’s perfect the way she is.” Phyllida smiled at my reflection in the mirror.