The Perfect Impostor (2 page)

“Of course I do, but it’s no more than you deserve. You’ll give that horrible Celestine a run for her money. It’s high time someone did.”

“Even I don’t aspire that high. Madame Celestine is established in Bond Street.” Katrina could hear the awe in her own voice. “She’s a living legend in the world of
haute couture
so I suppose she can afford to be moody if she wants to.”

“She’s a fraud.”

“Julia, how can you say that?”

“Very easily. Even duchesses must bend their knees to her before she’ll deign to design for them. The woman is a positive ogre. Recently she charged me triple for a gown I required at the last minute. And her original price was quite outlandish enough as it was.”

Katrina said nothing. To remind her friend that she would gladly have made the dress would be pointless. Diplomacy had never been Julia’s strong point.

“No, darling,” she continued blithely. “I’ve decided to make you my protégée. You shall be the next Celestine, and I shall bask in reflected glory.”

One of Katrina’s apprentices helped her into the gown.

“Thank you, Julia.” Katrina knew her friend meant what she said. Whether she would follow through was another matter entirely so Katrina refused to get her hopes up. “I just wish there was something I could do to repay you. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have got as far as I have.”

“Nonsense, I…oh!”

Julia stared at Katrina, unnerving her.

“What is it? What’s wrong with it? Is it too daring? Are the colours all wrong?”

“It’s simply sublime.” Julia dismissed the hovering apprentice with an impatient wave of her hand. “You don’t need to alter a thing.”

“But the festoons—”

“Are perfect for you.”

“Julia, are you feeling quite the thing?
You’re
the one who’ll be wearing this gown, not me.”

“Katrina,” she said slowly, fiddling abstractedly with the pretty tippet Katrina had been working on when her friend arrived. “Were you serious in your desire to do something for me?”

“Of course.” Katrina wrinkled her brow, wondering what was wrong with Julia. She’d never seen her like this before. “What an odd question. But what can I possibly do for you?”

“Well, you could attend Lady Marshall’s house party for me.”

No!
Katrina’s heart sank. Julia was asking that she
impersonate
her. “Have you changed your mind about going? Does Dupont require you at Court with him instead?” She tried to sound as though it didn’t matter to her one way or another. As if her whole future didn’t rest upon Julia’s presence at Lady Marshall’s. “I thought you were quite excited by the prospect of it.”

“Yes, it will be diverting, I suppose, but I need a week to myself. I have something else I wish to do. Besides, I’m tired. I’ve been continuously on the go since my marriage and I need a rest.”

“Are you…” She glanced significantly in the direction of Julia’s stomach.

“Lord, no!”

“Well then, tell Lady Marshall you’re indisposed and retire to your country estate for the week. No one will think the worse of you.”

“I could do that but then Dupont would probably wonder what I was about.”

Katrina frowned. “He isn’t attending the party with you?”

“No, he’s ensconced at Brighton with His Royal Highness. The prince is receiving a deputation from India and they’ll keep Dupont busy for at least a week.”

“He doesn’t need you there with him?”

“No, thank goodness, it’s all high-level, negotiations about tea quotas or something equally dull. But if Arthur thought I wasn’t going to Lady Marshall’s then he’d insist that I join him.”

“But, Julia,” Katrina said, panic welling up as she realised that her friend was actually serious. “How could I possibly pretend to be you and hope to get away with it?”

“We did it a hundred times when we were children. We look so alike that no one could tell us apart.”

“We played unkind tricks on your governess, it’s true.” Katrina grinned at the memory. “But we’re adults now. You’ve gone from being an earl’s daughter to a marquess’s wife, and I’ve progressed from steward’s daughter to struggling modiste.”

“You won’t be struggling for long. That gown and my patronage will secure your reputation.”

“Not if no one sees it.” Katrina immediately regretted the resentment in her tone. “What is it, Julia? What’s so important that you need a week alone to attend to it in secret?”

“Oh, pray don’t ask me such a question.” She flapped a hand. “I’ll be tempted to confide in you if you do, and that wouldn’t be fair.”

From which Katrina surmised the worst. Julia was already tired of her marriage and indulging in a clandestine affair. Arthur Dupont watched her like a hawk, even from afar, and Katrina didn’t see how she could hope to get away with it.

“We might look alike but I don’t know the first thing about being a marchioness.”

“Bah, of course you do! You’re a marchioness by nature and a fast learner to boot. Anything you don’t know you’ll soon pick up. You and I shared the same education but you were always a far more attentive student than me.”

“Your father was generous in allowing me to share the schoolroom with you, even if we did cause poor Miss Tipping almost to have the vapours, what with our pranks and always pretending to be each other.”

“Exactly. She couldn’t tell us apart and she saw us every day. You were even able to confuse her by laughing in the same manner as me. I remember you doing so to distract her when I wanted to dally with the gamekeeper’s son. You fooled her completely.” Julia’s smile didn’t come close to reaching her eyes. “Can you still laugh like that?”

Katrina could scarce believe what she was hearing. Julia was about to thwart all her ambitions, and expected her to laugh about it. “I gave up trying to be you a long time ago,” she said acerbically.

“Try, Kat. Just for me.”

“The last thing I feel like is laughing but, for you…” Katrina threw her head back and sideways in a fashion unique to Julia and let out a delicate peal of laughter.

“Perfect!” Julia cried, clapping her hands. “You still have it exactly.”

“Perhaps, but even so, no one will be fooled for long.”

“Nonsense, I know who’ll be at Lady Marshall’s and I haven’t seen any of them in an age.”

“You must have done. You mix with these people all the time.”

“If I’ve seen them, it’s only been in crowded places. No one has much time to notice other people at society events. Anyway, I’ll give you chapter and verse on all of them and you’ll be able to carry off the deception with ease.”

Katrina let out a short, nervous groan. “I really don’t think it will work. And if I’m found out, it will make terrible trouble for us both.”

“Not only did my father allow you to share Miss Tipping but he set you up in this business too,” Julia said peevishly. “How many men would do that for the daughter of a mere steward?”

“True and I’m indebted to him for that.” And determined to repay him as soon as she could. Katrina never intended to be reliant upon any man ever again.

“And I have managed to steer a few customers to your door already.”

“Please don’t think I’m ungrateful.”

“You aren’t behaving with much gratitude.” Julia tossed her head resentfully, immediately putting Katrina on her guard. When she behaved like that as a child, usually because she didn’t get her own way, it signalled an impending tantrum. “I ask you to do one small thing for me and you put up all sorts of silly objections.”

“You are serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Perfectly serious and I thought you’d jump at the chance. You’ll be able to relax for a week. Only think of that. You work far too hard and deserve some time off.”

“Yes, but I don’t see how I can?”

“And at the house party you can talk to the other ladies about your fashion designs much more knowledgeably than I ever could.”

That, at least, was true. “Oh, Julia, you know I want to help, really I do, but how would we ever get away with it? For a start, I know nothing about your personal life with Dupont.”

“Nor does anyone else.” Julia shrugged. “No one would be ill-bred enough to ask you for intimate details, and as for the rest, well, just make it up. Talk about the prince. That will give the busybodies something to chew on.”

“I would need a maid.”

“Celia will come with you,” Julia said without hesitation.

Damn, Katrina thought she’d hit upon the perfect excuse but Julia was there before her. “Yes, but even so—”

“She’s known you for as long as she’s known me, and we could trust her not to give you away.”

“What about your coachmen?”

“I’ve thought of that too.” As soon as Katrina abandoned her wholesale objections in favour of practical ones, Julia’s fit of pique gave way to good humour, as though Katrina had already agreed to the whole crazy scheme. “I shall be in the town house from now until it’s time to leave for the party next week. I’ll have my coachman bring me here to pick up some last-minute garment, we’ll swap clothes and places and you can go on with Celia.”

Katrina sighed. “You make it all sound so simple.”

“It is.” Julia glowered at her. “Tunbridge Wells is an easy day’s drive. The coach will stop just once to change horses at an inn, and a private parlour will have been reserved for me there. Or rather, for you.”

“Julia, I’m simply not you!” Katrina cried in anguish. “You were brought up to mix with the best of society. I know how to behave in their company, thanks to you and Miss Tipping, but that’s as far as it goes. I don’t have your extrovert personality for a start.”

“You’re not a flirt,” countered Julia, grinning. “Unlike me.”

“Well, yes, something like that.”

“There’s really nothing to it. Besides, I’m a married woman now, so if anyone remarks upon alterations in my conduct, that would account for it.”

“Aren’t women supposed to flirt more once they’re safely married?” Katrina asked gloomily.

“Since when have I ever conformed to anyone else’s expectations?”

“That’s true but still, I don’t know—”

“If you’re sincere in your desire to repay me in some small way you could make it work.”

Katrina hardly considered her request to be a small one but refrained from saying so, aware that it would do her no good. “But we’re different heights,” she pointed out instead.

“Bah, you’re barely taller than me. Unless we’re standing side by side, no one will notice, and probably not even then.”

“Our hair’s a different colour.”

“Oh, Kat, do stop making difficulties where none exist.” Julia spread her hands, clearly irritated. Presumably Katrina was supposed to have capitulated far more easily—just as she had when they were children, always following Julia from one prank to the next. “Mine’s only slighter lighter. These people will never remember. Wear hats with veils if it so concerns you.”

It took another half hour of Julia’s persuasive charm, interspersed with pouting and thinly veiled threats about the withdrawal of her father’s patronage, before, full of misgivings, Katrina gave way. Just like she’d always done in the past when Julia required a favour.

Just like she’d always known she eventually would this time.

Sprawled in a chair in his brother’s library, booted feet propped on a stool, Leo Kincade pretended to be asleep. There was a half-drunk glass of burgundy in his left hand and a thick curtain of dark hair had fallen across his face. It remained there, disturbed only by the even exhalation of his breath. His eyelids drooped and a lazy smile curled about his lips, almost as though his mind was occupied with something erotically thought-provoking.

Leo’s image of disinterest in anything other than the lady he planned to spend the evening with was deliberate. But he closely followed the conversation being conducted between his brother, the Duke of Carlisle, and the representative from the Cabinet Office seated in front of his desk.

“Let’s see if I understand what you’re saying, Sanders.” Richard frowned. “Three separate incidents of jewel thefts have occurred within the past two months—”

“Not just jewel thefts, Your Grace, if you’ll pardon the interruption. These were no opportunistic crimes but well-thought-out and professionally executed robberies. The pieces taken are beyond value, family heirlooms that are irreplaceable.”

“And in each case they were stolen when the female owner was in residence at someone else’s home without her spouse there to lend her protection.”

“Precisely so, Your Grace.”

“And this would be of interest to me because—”

“Ah, the Home Secretary asked me to bring the matter to your attention.”

Leo opened one eye and directed it censoriously towards his brother. If he noticed, he chose not to react. If the thefts were somehow connected with Richard’s position as coordinator of a network of spies doing their damnedest to undermine Napoleon, Leo failed to see how. He was employed in that capacity himself and had just returned from an exhausting several months on the Peninsula, only narrowly avoiding detection whilst engaged in an especially delicate investigation.

He was now anxious to dedicate himself just as wholeheartedly to a spell of hedonistic pleasures. It was no less than he deserved and so he hadn’t been best pleased when Richard called for his support in dealing with this official today. Grumble about it Leo might—and he had, most vociferously—but he wouldn’t disregard a direct ducal request. And so here he was. Why was rather less certain. He was relieved that the official was only concerned with jewel thefts. Richard wouldn’t require his involvement in something so mundane. Even so, he’d be glad when the wretched fellow got to the point and left them in peace.

“What makes you suppose that these thefts are connected?” Richard asked.

“We didn’t at first, Your Grace. They were only brought to our notice when one piece turned up for sale privately in Amsterdam.”

“Ah, I see.”

Leo and his brother shared a brief glance. This was starting to make sense now. He hadn’t been able to understand at first why such recognisable pieces were being targeted, but wealthy private collectors would go to any lengths to acquire such items, just for the pleasure of owning them, even if it meant they could never be publicly displayed.

“A private auction was organised for the famous emeralds that until a month ago belonged to Lady Granger. We heard about it and arranged for officials in Amsterdam to intercede. Happily the items were recovered, but less fortunately the rogue behind the sale managed to evade capture.”

“Don’t tell me,” Leo drawled. “He was French.”

“Indeed he was, my lord,” Sanders said. “A well-known procurer of funds by dubious means to support Napoleon’s cause.”

“How do you suppose a French ne’er-do-well was in a position to steal the jewels in the first place?” Richard saved Leo the trouble of voicing the same question, thus expressing more interest than it would be wise to display in a matter he fully intended not to become involved with. He was most definitely due a holiday.

“You have me there, Your Grace. Lady Granger was at a ball held at the Duke of Bedford’s country estate. She was in residence for a sennight, as were a number of other prominent members of society. But there were definitely no French nationals in attendance.”

“But I dare say Lady Granger’s sojourn there was public knowledge.”

“Indubitably. The news sheets were full of it. What’s more, the ball was being held to raise funds for our injured servicemen.”

Leo quirked a brow.

“It’s currently all the rage,” Richard explained. “Hostesses outdo each other, attempting to show their patriotic colours by raising funds for dispossessed soldiers and their families.”

“I see. And presumably the other thefts occurred at similar events?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Our Frenchie probably enjoys the irony of the situation,” remarked Leo carelessly, sinking lower in his chair and closing his eyes again.

“Any connection that stands out between the thefts, other than the obvious?” Richard asked in a suspiciously casual tone that warned Leo he was up to something.

“They all took place following the balls at which the jewels were worn.”

“So in each case the owner was staying for several days.”

“That’s my understanding, Your Grace. We’ve looked into the other guests and found only three ladies in attendance at all the houses who weren’t unfortunate enough to lose any of their possessions.”

“Ladies?” Richard elevated a brow. “You think this is the work of a woman?”

“We do. The Frenchman obviously has an accomplice but all the gentlemen present can account for their activities. Besides, none were present at all three events.”

“Servants?”

“It’s possible but hard to see how it could have been done. Maids were left in the rooms when the items weren’t being worn. The jewels were locked in cases and hidden from plain sight. The cases weren’t taken but the locks were picked and the jewels extracted. Even if the maid left the room for a moment, it would take too long for another servant who didn’t have business in the chamber to pick the lock and spirit the loot anyway.”

“The same problem would apply to a lady if she wished to steal the item,” Leo said, almost to himself. “She too would have to invent a reason to be in the room, dismiss the servant and then pick the lock.”

“Good point.” Richard nodded. “All right, let’s assume for the sake of argument that one of our society ladies is a French sympathiser, a traitor to her country so set to aid Napoleon that she’s prepared to steal from her peers.” He frowned. “That’s quite an accusation to make, Sanders.”

“I’m aware of that, Your Grace, as is the Home Secretary. That’s presumably why he asked me to bring such a delicate situation to your notice.”

“Who are the three ladies under suspicion?”

“Lady Ursula Chester.”

“I should have thought she was a bit long in the tooth for such skulduggery,” Leo remarked, not bothering to open his eyes.

“She has a number of French relations on her mother’s side about whose fate she’s been heard to publicly lament,” Richard said. “There’s a cousin, apparently, for whom she developed quite a
tendre
in her youth and still holds in some esteem.”

“Ah, the infatuation of youth.” Leo took a sip of his wine. “Still, I doubt that would be enough to make her turn traitor.”

“And the others?” Richard asked.

“Mrs. Nugent.”

“Unless Nugent has made unwise investments during my absence, she’d have no need,” Leo said. “I doubt it, though. He’s far too shrewd for that.”

“Actually, I’ve heard that he does currently have pockets to let,” Richard observed. “He was grudgingly admitted into society because of his ability to turn a farthing into a guinea.”

“He was elected to White’s because he’d helped a couple of the stalwarts with their investments, if memory serves,” Leo said. “That was his way into society.”

“Yes, but he subsequently fell victim to his own success. He got so carried away with living the high life that he became lax in his business dealings and got fleeced. He denies it, of course, and is spending more lavishly than ever, presumably hoping to deflate criticism.”

“So society’s doors would be closed to them if Nugent is no longer in a position to be useful to its leading lights.” Leo scratched his chin, striving to maintain an attitude of disinterest. “Hmm, possible, I suppose. Men, or in this case women, have been known to take desperate measures with much less provocation. Who’s the third suspect?”

Sanders cleared his throat, addressing his next comment to the floor. “The Marchioness of Lanarkshire.”

Burgundy slopped over his hand as Leo sat bolt upright, and his feet hit the floor with a resounding thud. Richard’s implacable expression didn’t alter, causing Leo to suppose that this wasn’t news to him.

“I don’t have much time for Lanarkshire, but he’s plenty plump in the pocket and the last man in England I’d brand as a traitor,” Leo said in a bland tone.

“But the marchioness is, by all accounts, already disenchanted with her lot,” Richard said with a casual shrug.

“And you know that because—?”

Richard merely smiled, telling Leo without bothering to open his mouth that he ought to know better than to ask such a question. “And Lanarkshire leaves her to her own devices quite a bit whilst he dances attendance upon the prince. Perhaps she felt the need for a little excitement.”

Leo shook his head, refusing to be drawn. Julia could be wild but he didn’t believe for a moment that she was a traitor, or a thief, and had no intention of being sucked deeper into this thing by expressing that opinion.

“So, having been caught in Amsterdam,” Richard said, wisely not pressing Leo for an opinion upon Julia Dupont, “do you imagine they’ll give up?”

“Our intelligence is that they’re keen to make up their losses, Your Grace. Napoleon’s coffers are almost empty and his troops are short of equipment as a consequence.”

“I see.” Leo could feel his brother’s eyes boring into his profile. “And when is the next beneficent hostess planning a soiree likely to attract our light-fingered friend’s attention?”

“Lady Marshall is holding a house party next week,” Sanders said, “culminating with a grand ball on the Thursday evening at which the Duchess of Southport is expected to make an appearance wearing the famed family tiara.”

“And all three of our suspects will be in attendance?” Richard asked.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Well, little brother,” Richard said casually. “That sounds like one for you.”

“I’m on holiday, Richard. Find someone else.”

“But you’re the perfect person. No one knows you’re back, and since Lady Marshall’s your godmother, it would be the most natural thing in the world for you to call upon her when you pass through Tunbridge Wells. Since you’ve just arrived, you wouldn’t be aware that she was in the midst of entertaining. Naturally she will insist that you stay.”

“Tell the duchess to leave her wretched tiara at home and there won’t be any thefts.”

“And we’ll not catch the perpetrators.”

“Hide a couple of burly footmen in the duchess’s chamber then to await the thief. It’s straightforward enough. You don’t need me.”

“Come on, Leo, where’s your sense of patriotic duty?”

“On holiday, just like the rest of me.”

“Thank you, Sanders.” Richard ushered his visitor out of his library. “Tell the Home Secretary he will be hearing from me.”

“But not from me,” Leo called after him.

“So, what’s the objection to a little investigative work?” Richard refilled his brother’s glass. “It would be like a holiday anyway.”

Leo shuddered. “With all the matchmaking mamas in attendance setting their sights on me? Fending off tiresome chits wasn’t quite the sort of recreation I had in mind.”

Richard chuckled. “I don’t suppose it was.”

“Then don’t ask this of me.” Leo sighed. “Any competent investigator could do it. You don’t need me.”

“An investigator would stand out like a fox in the henhouse. It requires someone of our class with a good reason to turn up unannounced.”

Leo groaned. “Have a heart.”

“Frightened of facing Julia?” The ducal expression softened. “I know you felt let down by her but I thought you were over that.”

“But I wouldn’t be impartial,” Leo said artfully. “In my desire for revenge against the woman who spurned my advances, I’ll try and pin the crime on her, regardless of whether she’s guilty.”

“Not a chance. Your integrity will guide you, no matter what your personal feelings are.”

“Damn!”

“You’re right, Leo. It would be easy enough to set a trap for the culprits but I doubt whether they know who’s behind it all. If they were that sloppy, then we’d have caught our man in Amsterdam. No, we need to let them get away with the jewels and follow them to their ultimate destination. Now that sort of thing
is
right up your street.”

Leo ran a hand through his hair and groaned. “What does a man have to do to earn a holiday round these parts?”

Richard grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. “I take it you’ll do it, then?”

The door opened and two mini-whirlwinds launched themselves at Leo, wooden swords bashing at his legs with total disregard for his manhood.

“Uncle Leo, you said you’d come and fight with us.”

“And that was ages ago and we’ve been waiting for you.”

He was unceremoniously pulled to his feet by his aggrieved nephews.

“All right then, Richard, I suppose I’ll do it.” Leo picked up the smaller child and swung him onto his shoulders, tickling his ribs and eliciting a gurgle of childish laughter. “I might even stand a chance of getting a little peace at a house party,” he added, glancing affectionately at the remaining nephew, who was terrorising Richard’s gun dog with his wooden sword.

“I haven’t dismissed the servant aspect,” Richard said. “I still think that’s worth looking into. Or it could be mistress and maid working in tandem. Take Boscombe with you. He’ll be able to look into matters in the servants’ hall.”

“Wouldn’t go anywhere without him.” Leo’s valet-
cum
-fellow-spy-
cum
-valued-friend always accompanied him on his undercover assignations.

“Once that tiara leaves Upton Manor, it needs to be followed. It will be interesting to see where it leads.”