The Counterfeit Lady (9 page)

“Yes.”

“And I suppose . . .” I glanced in the direction of the driver and footman.

“Oh, yes,” Blackford replied.

Oh, dear. They were expecting trouble. “Why am I along?”

“I expect you to keep us from having to use any weapons.”

Oh, dear heavens. I swallowed hard and prayed for the best. “Then I suppose you want me to enter the Crown and Anchor first.”

“No. That would be too dangerous.”

“Then how can I prevent violence?”

“By being nearby.”

The duke was a decent man, a brilliant man. But he could be stupid. “You and I will call on Miss Snelling. If I understood the burglar’s actions, he didn’t strike until he felt cornered. I believe while she greets us, her brother will sneak out the back. Sumner, you and Smith will need to watch from different points, and please, be careful. Snelling knows if he’s captured, he will hang.”

“It’ll keep her out of trouble,” Sumner said as he held the duke’s gaze.

“Very well,” the duke said.

I gave Sumner the drawing. He nodded, and then he and the footman left the coach a block before Blackford and I rode up to the door. He helped me down, and then we walked into the grimy-windowed building.

It was more depressing inside than out. An oil lamp was lit despite the glaring sunshine outside. There were a few sailors staring into their glasses and one man stood behind the bar, but no women were in sight. I walked up to the barman and said, “I’d like to speak to Miss Snelling, please.”

“Rose? You mean Rose?” he asked in confusion. Then he gave a belly laugh, showing a mouth full of rotted teeth. “Miss Snelling, indeed.”

“Is that Rose’s last name?” I asked, my eyebrows raised.

“No one ever uses it.”

“I do. Now please call Miss Snelling.”

He walked over to the bottom of the stairs. “Rose! Someone wants ya!” I was surprised his bellow didn’t bring down the building.

There was a pause and then a woman’s voice yelled, “Who wants me?”

“Miss Adams,” I shouted in return.

“Why do ya wanna talk to me?”

“I’m not going to shout. Either come down and find out, or I’ll deal with somebody else.”

“Jest a minnit. I’m not decent.”

The barman gave another loud laugh. “She’s never decent. She’s a whore.”

“All the more reason for her to want to be dressed,” I told him and walked to the bottom of the stairs. I heard quick footsteps upstairs somewhere, but I couldn’t tell where. If it was Mick Snelling, he must have been climbing out a window. I only hoped Sumner and the footman would be able to catch him and rescue the plans for the warship.

The young woman slowly came down the stairs, glancing upward over her shoulder once. She was slender and still pretty, but her profession was already showing in a hardening of her features. “What do ya want?”

We had the full attention of the drinkers scattered around the room. All of their expressions were lethal. I stepped forward toward her. “Miss Snelling?”

The barman snorted at the name.

“Yeah.”

“I’m Sally Adams. I’m here to help you and your brother, if you’ll let me.” I hadn’t thought out my role, deciding to improvise as I went along. I had nothing to offer her, and nothing less than a hangman’s noose for her brother if I was right.

“We don’t need no help.” She turned around and marched back up the stairs.

I put up a hand to Blackford and followed her up the stairs. The first floor was even more depressing than the ground level. The odors of ancient urine and sweat and blood hit me as I reached the rough wooden floor of the hallway in time to see Miss Snelling dart through a door near the front of the building.

Knocking on the now closed door earned me a “Go away.” The doorknob refused to turn in my hand until I used a hairpin on the lock.

I opened the door and dodged a thin pillow. Suspecting lice, I opened the door wider and edged my skirt around the offending object. The room was small, with a double bed, an armoire, and a wooden chair. There was no masculine clothing in sight. Mick hadn’t been staying with his sister. Then who belonged to the running footsteps I had heard from up here?

“Where’s your brother been staying?”

“None of your business.” She dropped onto the bed and lounged on it. She probably hoped Blackford had followed me here. I certainly hoped he’d followed my direction to wait.

I glanced around the room. The dirt-streaked window sat open and I walked over to look out. Part of the street was visible, but there was nothing to break Snelling’s fall if he’d gone out this way.

When I pulled my head back inside, I saw a chocolate box from the most famous chocolatier in London lying in the corner, as out of place as a ruby. I hurried toward it, over Miss Snelling saying, “’Ey! What are you doing?”

Miss Snelling reached the box at the same time I did and she smashed me against the wall. My shoulder took the brunt as the decrepit plaster stood firm. I swung around to see her dive back onto her bed clutching the chocolate box.

Forgetting my fear of lice, I dove after her and knocked the box out of her hands. It flew across the room.

The chocolate box was empty. The woman collapsed back onto the bed with a sigh. “He took it with him.”

“The plans to the ship?”

She made a face at me.

I leaped off the bed and began a search of the room, which brought the prostitute to her feet. “’Ey! This is my room. Get out.”

“I came for the ship plans your brother stole. Give them to me and I’ll leave.”

“They’re not here.”

“Where’s your brother’s room?”

“Not here.”

I gave her a disbelieving frown.

She shook her head. “I don’t know where he’s hiding. Not here.”

“Your brother’s in a lot of trouble. If Scotland Yard catches him, he’ll hang. If he gives those blueprints to the man who hired him, the man will kill him to cover his tracks. I’m here to offer him, and you, a way out.” If she bought my story, I had to think of a solution.

She dropped back onto the bed. “I know he stole those plans for someone, and I know he’s in a lot of trouble. Some lady fell and hit her head. When he saw what happened, he ran. And if he doesn’t hand over those blue papers, the man who hired him will find him and kill him.”

“There’s a way out,” I said as the plan came to me.

“What?”

“I have the name and address of a man who can give him a second set of plans, doctored plans, to give to the man who hired him. Then he can get two sets of coins, one from us for switching the plans and one from the man who hired him.”

By the calculating glint in her eye, I knew I had her interest. “What if this man realizes the drawings are fakes?”

“He won’t. Not until months of work have been done on them. By then, your brother and his money will be long gone. Away from the law and anyone looking for him.” This time I smiled.

“Who’s this bloke and what’s his address?”

“His name’s Stevens. He pretends to be a butler, but he’s really a mastermind. You’ll find him at Blackford House on Park Lane. He’ll be the one who opens the front door. Tell your brother to say the duchess sent him with the plans.” And Stevens would know what to do because Blackford would instruct him.

“How do I know this isn’t a double cross?” She studied my face, disbelieving.

I held her gaze as I walked over and held out my hand. “Rose, if you want to keep your brother alive, you have to trust me. This is his best chance.”

She stared at my hand and then shook it. “You’re the first person who’s seen a way out of his troubles.”

“Your brother needs to get in contact with Mr. Stevens soon. Everyone’s looking for him.”

“Don’tcha think I know that.”

“Stevens will give him more than enough money to stay out of sight. Your brother will just have to find a way to deliver the doctored plans and get the rest of his money without getting caught by the police or murdered by the man who hired him. That’ll be up to him.”

I gave her a curtsy and left, shutting the door behind me. I paused long enough to rub my shoulder, certain I’d have a bruise by later that night. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Sumner and Blackford were in close discussion. I joined them and looked from one man to the other.

“Outside,” the duke said.

We climbed into the carriage and took off. “What happened?”

“Thought we had him cornered in a boardinghouse down the street, but he slipped out the window over the rooftops like he did at the Crown and Anchor. The man’s a cat,” Sumner said with obvious admiration in his voice.

“He definitely took the designs for the warship. I told his sister if he’d take the real designs to Stevens, he’d get a doctored version to give to the man who hired him and some coins to make his escape. Snelling is to say the duchess sent him. I told her Stevens was a mastermind posing as a butler.”

The duke snorted. “Stevens would agree with your assessment. Good thinking, Georgia. I need to put your plan into action.”

“Do you think he’ll fall for it?” Sumner asked.

“I don’t know,” Blackford said, “but if he comes to Blackford House, he’ll find everything just as Georgia described, including a doctored set of plans. I’m sure the Admiralty can produce that quickly for a good reason. And you’ve given them a good reason.” He gave me one of his happy smiles, the ones I saw when the two of us had done well together. A smile that told me he was pleased. A smile that might someday say he loved me.

Except he couldn’t. He was a duke.

“You’ll let him go?” Sumner asked.

“I don’t expect Stevens to capture him, and he won’t see anyone at Blackford House but Stevens. Even if he gets away, we’ll have what we want. The plans to the warship.”

“And evidence Ken Gattenger is telling the truth,” I added. “Will it be enough to let him out of prison?”

“No. Snelling could double-cross Gattenger as easily as the baron. Without Snelling testifying that Gattenger wasn’t involved and the plans were taken by force, Scotland Yard can still say the prisoner is guilty of treason and murder. I’m sorry.”

I leaned toward Blackford, every muscle tensing. “That’s not fair. There must be a way to prove Ken Gattenger innocent.”

“Possibly we’ll catch Snelling handing off the doctored plans. Possibly the Germans will admit Gattenger had no hand in this. We won’t know what evidence we’ll have until we finish the investigation.” Blackford gave me a reassuring smile. “You’ve done well. Shall we take you back to the bookstore now?”

“Yes. I have a lot to take care of today.” Too much. I was grumbling and didn’t care if the duke heard my temper. Before, I’d always been able to keep one eye on the bookshop as I carried out investigations. I didn’t like the direction this case and my shop were headed.

I
scarcely had time to glance at the receipts for the bookshop before it was time to take a stifling omnibus back to Mayfair. The heat wave seemed to have intensified, baking the horse manure almost as soon as it hit the pavement. If it weren’t so hot, I could have walked the distance in less time. While Emma readied my outfit for the afternoon, I ate a light lunch. After Emma dressed Phyllida and me, we left to call on Lady Peters.

Her Mayfair town house was smaller than ours, but better located on one of the attractive squares that dotted that part of London. She rose to greet us when her butler opened the door to her parlor and announced us. “How lovely. I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

“We were honored by your invitation,” I answered.

We curtsied to each other and then she had us sit on satin-smooth jewel-green chairs. “Your home has a marvelous view, Lady Peters,” Phyllida said.

“Please, call me Rosamond. Yes, we get a little breeze from the trees in the park, and lately, we’re grateful for every breeze we can find.”

Why was this woman going out of her way to befriend us? “I’m Georgina, and I’m grateful for the invitation, since I know practically no one in the city. And now it sounds as if everyone in polite society will be escaping London.”

“When does the Duke of Blackford intend to leave? Or shouldn’t I ask? I’ve heard you and he are old friends, but I suppose I shouldn’t listen to gossip.”

Good. The story we’d concocted was getting around. “Oh, that isn’t gossip. That’s the truth. We were friendly when we were younger, but we haven’t seen each other in years. I have no idea what Ranleigh’s—I mean, the duke’s—plans are. Did he mention them to you last night?”

“No. He didn’t seem to be able to talk about anything but you. He seems quite smitten.”

“As Sir Henry appears to be with you.”

Rosamond laughed a carefree, tinkling sound. “Sir Henry is in love with half the females in London. One of us serves quite as well as another.”

“Oh, dear. A male coquette.” I smiled broadly, and Phyllida, bless her, tittered.

Lady Peters didn’t. “I shouldn’t speak so dismissively of him. He seems quite interested in you. Particularly since the duke hasn’t frightened him off.”

I shook my head. “Neither has more than a passing interest in me. I’m new here, and that makes me exotic for ten minutes. By the time cooler weather comes in, both of them will be on to other pursuits.”

“And you? What will you do then?”

I’ll be back in my bookshop, if my friends haven’t made too many mistakes like this morning’s.
“I’m at Lady Phyllida’s disposal. We might travel a little, see the sights of London, I don’t know. This is all so new.”

“You didn’t grow up here?”

“I sailed to join my father in India as soon as I left the schoolroom. Having not lived in London leaves me at a disadvantage when it comes to polite society. So tell me, why has Lady Bennett taken such a special dislike to me?”

Rosamond Peters smiled, but her eyes narrowed. “I’m sure she hasn’t.”

“You don’t believe that.” I decided to strike a blow for my supposed honesty in not knowing important people in Singapore. “She seems quite upset that I wasn’t the social equal of her sister the viscountess in Singapore.”

She shook her head. “It sounded as if you’d never heard of her family, in whom she’s quite proud.”

I’d managed to check some sources at the bookshop, so now I could speak with authority. “I meant I didn’t move in their circles. We’d never been formally introduced. She should be honored rather than insulted. But beyond that, she doesn’t like me.”

“Lady Bennett has had many conquests in society over the years. Both before and after old Lord Bennett’s death. Perhaps she feels guilty when she sees you because the last time your cousin and Kenneth Gattenger broke their engagement, it was because of her.”

“What?” I thought Phyllida would slide off her satin-slick chair.

“He came to regret it quickly enough and strove to make amends with Clara, but Gattenger and Lady Bennett did have an affair immediately after Lord Bennett died.”

Gattenger and Lady Bennett.
I shook my head. “I can’t believe that’s the reason for her animosity. Clara’s gone. It can’t make any difference now.”

Lady Peters smiled. “Being more than a few years older than you, perhaps she fears you’ll attract the attention she wants. Especially as she once made an effort to gain the Duke of Blackford’s eye and failed.”

I was glad to hear he had better taste than that.

Glancing around the room, a painting over the fireplace caught my eye. The woman was definitely Rosamond Peters with a toddler on her lap. “Your son?”

“The current Lord Peters. He’s four years old now and growing quickly. He’s spending the summer with his aunt and uncle and their children at their family estate.” She smiled at the portrait.

“You’re brave to share him with the family after losing your husband.” I didn’t think I could bear being separated from my young children if I ever had any.

“I miss him terribly, but it’s better for him. London is so hot and unhealthy.”

“Did your husband get to know the child? He’s been dead that long, hasn’t he?” Phyllida asked.

Good for you, Phyllida
. She was turning into a first-rate investigator.

“Sadly, no. His father died a few months before his birth.”

The parlor door opened and the butler announced Lady Bennett. I glanced at Lady Peters as we all rose and curtsied. Rosamond’s eyes flashed with a strong emotion. By the hard set of her lips, I suspected it was hatred.

Still, she was all graciousness as she invited her guest to come sit with us.

“I’d have thought you’d be packing for your trip to the countryside. Although it’s so much easier now that we don’t have skirts a yard wide, with underskirts and petticoats and hoops and underpetticoats,” Phyllida said.

“I hope we don’t ever go back to those styles,” Rosamond Peters said with a laugh that sounded forced to my ears.

“I leave all my packing to my maid,” Lady Bennett said. Apparently she was smug about everything.

“You trust your maid to decide what you’ll wear to every event while you’re gone? I could never do that,” I said and hoped no one repeated this to Emma. Her taste was much better than mine.

“Well, of course I oversee her work,” Lady Bennett said. “Oh, Rosamond, don’t tell me you plan to stay in London in this heat wave.”

“I’m also going to Lord Harwin’s, Lark. Celeste Harwin was a childhood friend of my husband’s, and she offered to rescue me from this oven.”

“Lark. What an unusual name,” Phyllida said. “I knew a woman who called her daughter Lark. Caused an unholy ruckus when it came time for the bishop to baptize her.”

Lady Bennett turned cherry red. Rosamond Peters had a hand over her mouth, trying to keep the laughter from leaking out between her fingers. And I had my mouth half-open, wishing I could question Phyllida further on this oddly named baby girl.

“Are you Genevieve Hollingsworth’s daughter?” Phyllida asked. “How is your mother?”

“She’s dead,” Lark Bennett snapped.

Phyllida reached out and patted her hand. “I am so sorry. She was a wonderful woman. A determined woman.”

Lady Bennett aimed a calculating look at Phyllida. “How did you not know Mother had died? It created a sensation fifteen years ago.”

Oh, Phyllida, don’t blow our story,
I said with my eyes. Phyllida looked at me and said, “I’m sorry, Georgina. I’m sure Edgar didn’t tell you about my brother, who was executed for murdering a score of prostitutes. It happened before you two met, but for years before he was captured, my brother kept me prisoner in my own home. I only received the news and the visitors he allowed.” She turned and faced Lady Bennett. “I heard nothing about Genevieve’s passing. I’m sorry if I brought up a painful memory.”

Lady Peters said, “How terrible, Lady Phyllida. You must have suffered terribly from society gossip.”

“No. I left. It saved me from being pitied. I can’t stand pity.” Then Phyllida gave the ladies a bright smile and said, “Where do you recommend traveling to avoid the heat?”

Lark Bennett gave a relieved sigh and said, “I can’t believe the Duke of Blackford hasn’t arranged a house party to entertain you and Mrs. Monthalf.”

“If he has, he hasn’t told me,” I replied.

“He’s probably just awaiting confirmation from his butler,” Lady Peters said. “I shall miss seeing you while you’re in—Northumberland, isn’t it?”

I’d seen his manor house within the castle walls, and I really didn’t want to go there again. I also doubted he kept the house fully staffed with a butler.

I needed to stay close to Baron von Steubfeld and Lady Bennett. A country house party would be isolated enough to keep out policemen and Archivist Society members and busy enough to hide the passing of the stolen warship plans. How was I going to crash a country house party?

“I wouldn’t think Ranleigh would go there except to administer his estate. He seems more accustomed to life in London,” I said.

“But London won’t cool down, not even for a duke. When they suspended Parliament, most of the peers fled,” Lady Peters said.

Lady Bennett looked me up and down before saying, “Are you and the Duke of Blackford an item? Forgive me for saying so, but you two don’t seem to be well matched.”

“In what way?” I asked, neatly lobbing her remark back at her.

“He’s going to have to marry a highborn young lady to give him an heir.”

“I can assure you neither of us has been discussing marriage. Have you been discussing marriage with von Steubfeld?” I tried to sound interested and hoped she’d tell me more about her relationship with the baron.

She laughed. “We just enjoy each other’s company. He came into London looking for an attractive widow to have on his arm for society affairs, and I like being surrounded by the mighty at diplomatic receptions.”

“Really? Your relationship developed as simply as that?” I said in pretended amazement, trying to get her to continue.

Lady Bennett turned to Lady Peters. “Tell her. I see you at diplomatic social events all the time.”

“I’ve only attended one or two.”

“One or two a month is more accurate.” Lady Bennett raised an expressive eyebrow.

Lady Peters shook her head. “I’ve been invited by friends on a few occasions, but hardly with the same frequency as you have.” She looked uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation as she glared at Lark Bennett.

“You’re far too modest,” Lady Bennett said. “The French ambassador is quite fond of you.”

Rosamond Peters blushed. “He’s an old family friend, soon to be recalled to Paris. And I’m sure you’ll be upset when Baron von Steubfeld is sent to another embassy.”

“I won’t have to worry about that until Christmas season. He’s assured me he has to stay here until then.”

“Why?” Phyllida asked. “How can he possibly be sure?”

I was mentally applauding her innocent question when Lark Bennett said, “He said his work won’t be finished until then.”

I suspected her of involvement in the theft of the plans until she looked directly at me and said, “Once he leaves, I’ll look for my fun elsewhere. Next time, I may set my sights on a duke.”

I wanted to laugh. If she knew the real relationship between the duke and me, she wouldn’t feel nearly as envious.

*   *   *

AFTER MY UNINFORMATIVE
visit with Lady Bennett at Lady Peters’s, I planned to go to our borrowed quarters and sleep while Phyllida paid calls on a couple of old tabbies. I sent her on in a carriage while I walked in the blazing heat. After such a strenuous occupation, I was sure I could sleep well.

No such luck. Blackford arrived just as I entered the front door into the relative cool of the foyer. He followed me up to the parlor and then said, as I shut the door on the servants, “You look like hell.”

“I walked back from Lady Peters’s.”

“In this heat? Not advisable.”

“I needed to think.” I collapsed onto a sofa and waved him into a chair. “Sit.”

Never one to listen to a mere mortal, he walked over and pulled the bell rope. A maid immediately appeared. “Tea, please, with lots of sugar for your mistress.”

It must have been his ducal tones. The woman didn’t look in my direction. She simply left to do his bidding, shutting the door behind her.

I raised an eyebrow. “Why am I going to need sugared tea?”

“This investigation is entering a new phase. I discovered Sir Henry is attending Lord Harwin’s country house party, along with the baron and Lady Bennett.”

“I think Sir Henry is following Lady Peters to the Harwins’.”

“Or maybe Lady Peters is following him,” Blackford said.

I shrugged. “And Lady Bennett has nothing to do with this investigation. She’s after the invitations and the glamour. In fact, she hinted today that you might be her next conquest.” It might be impolite to repeat her boasts, but Blackford should be warned. I told myself that wasn’t jealousy, but rather a concern for any man subjected to Lady Bennett.

He brushed my words aside. “I won’t be her anything. Now, we need to keep an eye on them. Or rather, you do. I’m too obviously involved in the hunt for the blueprints. So we’ll be leaving Friday morning for a stay at Lord Harwin’s.”