Текст книги "The Counterfeit Lady"

Автор книги: Kate Parker

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“You have a plan?”

I nodded.

“Good luck.”

She tidied my hair and then I walked down to the parlor. I shut the door to the hall and faced Sir Henry, who’d risen when I walked in.

“This is quite a nice house. Rented with Lady Phyllida’s money, I suppose?” Disdain dripped from his voice.

“I paid my share. Edgar didn’t leave me completely without resources.”

“If I were to contact the authorities in Singapore, what would I learn?” He moved forward to stand improperly close to me. The gleam in his eye told me he was gloating.

“That my husband’s death saved him from a great deal of embarrassment.”

“Financial problems?”

I nodded.

“What would I learn about you?” He ran the back of his hand along my cheek.

I turned my face aside. “That I left quickly for England with funds that Edgar might have had to explain.”

“And you should still be wearing mourning?” he asked, apparently buying the impression I gave that I’d escaped Singapore and arrived in England without bothering about full mourning.

“I spoke to Ken Gattenger,” I answered. I wasn’t going to give him anything specific about my life in Singapore. I had nothing specific to give.

“What did he say?” he asked, immediately focused on his own interests.

“The ship will float. There’s nothing wrong with the calculations.”

Sir Henry grabbed my upper arm in the same place as the previous night and pulled me against him. “You’d better not be lying.”

“I’m not. Now let go of me.” I didn’t add, You make me feel soiled.

He had a cruel smile on his lips as he studied my eyes. “The blueprints are correct as they’re written?”

“Yes. Let go of me,” I hissed out from between my teeth.

He let me go but he blocked my path to the door. “I’d hoped to get you to invest in my shipyard, but you can’t do that without money. Does Lady Phyllida know you’re broke?”

I decided to let him think he had a bigger hold over me than he did. “I’m not broke.”

“Close enough.”

I shrugged.

“What a pity.” He sneered, ruining his good looks. “But handy for me. I’ll have another task for you to carry out at Lord Harwin’s. Until tomorrow. And remember, I’m very good at uncovering secrets. If you try to deceive me, everything will be revealed.”

Laughing softly, he walked out of my parlor and down the stairs. I heard the front door open and close.

I stood there rubbing my arm with a shaking hand. I wasn’t worried about Georgina’s secrets. I was worried about Georgia’s secrets and those of the Archivist Society. Sir Henry could be a dangerous man with all the digging he’d done into my background. But somehow I knew he hadn’t written my threatening letters. He received too much enjoyment from bullying me in person.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

RETURNING to my room, I filled Emma in on Sir Henry while she helped me dress. Once Phyllida rose from her nap and joined us, we changed the topic.

I had no idea what Blackford had in mind when he called for me later. I wore a new Georgina Monthalf gown of turquoise satin with emerald earrings. He looked me over intently before he said, “Exquisite.”

“Am I really going to Blackford House after dinner?” I hoped he was teasing.

“Bring a dark cloak so it looks like you’re sneaking out for an assignation.”

“What am I really doing?”

“Visiting my house so that it looks like we’re having an assignation.”

“Should I take my maid?”

“Not unless you want everyone to think we engage in shocking, rather than scandalous, behavior.” He shook his head. “Besides, I’d like to keep Emma’s name out of this if you don’t mind.”

“Because she’s a young innocent?”

“And because Sumner might take offense. We need him on this investigation, Georgina.”

So he had seen the growing interest between Emma and Sumner. I thought he was completely oblivious to the concerns of others.

“Have you heard anything from Jacob?” I asked.

“Sumner arrived at my house earlier and said Jacob’s been rebuffed by the clerk he now thinks is the best candidate to be in the pay of the Germans.”

“How will we get any news while we’re out in the country?”

“I booked a room in the closest inn for Sumner to use while we’re at Lord Harwin’s. We’ll shuttle messages back to London through him. If worse comes to worst, I have a code set up with my man of affairs to use in a telegram.”

I was impressed. “You’ve thought of everything.”

“I’d better. Britain’s security rests on keeping those plans out of the hands of the Germans.”

I shook my head slightly so the dangling emerald earrings brushed my neck. “The life of Ken Gattenger rests on our finding the plans and the thief, who might not be in the employ of the Germans.” I thought of Sir Henry. “We have to consider that possibility.”

“What happened with Stanford this afternoon?” He studied my face as he reached out and took my hand.

“I told him Gattenger said it would float. Has he checked that out yet?”

“He ran through a set of blueprints at the prison this afternoon. All the calculations say it should be a success.”

“Good. I admitted I was broke, that Edgar died while under suspicion of financial chicanery, and I told him Phyllida doesn’t know. He thinks I’m at his service for any more errands he may have in exchange for his silence. He told me there would be one at Lord Harwin’s.”

Blackford smiled. “Involving the blueprints?”

“I don’t know.”

We rode to dinner in his unmarked carriage. I wondered how often he’d taken a woman to Blackford House in this manner. Dragging my mind away from our supposed purpose, I said, “We had some excitement earlier today. Phyllida’s new hat was stolen.”

The duke raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t say anything.

“Some young thief knocked Emma over and stole the hatbox. Nothing else. Emma and I chased after him and caught him in a dead-end alley. The bobby arrested him, Emma gave a statement, and Phyllida and I rode home in a carriage belonging to the German embassy.”

“Baron von Steubfeld?”

I nodded.

The duke leaned forward on the seat. “Why was he there? And what did he say about this strange crime?”

“He was having luncheon at the Grosvenor Club, and he didn’t say much about the crime. He seemed puzzled by it. So was the thief, who was paid by a man whose face he didn’t see to steal a lady’s hatbox from Gautier’s.”

“If we assume he stole the wrong hatbox, who had the one he should have grabbed, and what was in it?” Blackford looked out the side window of the carriage and murmured as if he were talking to himself.

“I think a hatbox could hold the plans to the warship.”

“Easily. Von Steubfeld wasn’t carrying any packages, was he?”

“None. And both Lady Bennett and Lady Peters had hatboxes identical to Phyllida’s. Could this be how they plan to get the ship designs to Germany? The dowager duchess and her daughter should be leaving for Germany soon. No one would be surprised if they carried a hatbox.”

“They’ve already left. All their luggage was searched by agents of our government disguised as baggage guards. Nothing was found, and the ladies haven’t yet realized we explored every inch of their trunks on the train to the coast.”

“What about at their seats in the rail carriage with their possessions?”

“Neither lady carried anything large enough to hold the blueprints. Their servants were searched, discreetly, out of sight of the ladies. I suspect there will be a complaint filed with Whitehall by the German embassy on behalf of the dowager as soon as she speaks to her servants.”

We pulled up in front of an elegant town house. “We’ll talk later. Leave your cloak in the carriage.” The duke climbed out first and then turned to me, his arms outstretched.

I’d planned to leave my evening cloak in the carriage. I certainly didn’t need extra clothes in this heat to stay warm. Blackford’s gruff tone clashed with the solicitousness he displayed for anyone watching as he lifted me down and ushered me into the house. At a distance, he appeared to be treating me like a lover.

Our hosts, Lord and Lady Fleetwhite, met us at the double doors as we were announced into the drawing room. The only thing I knew about him was he was important at Whitehall. I knew nothing about her. When I was almost immediately introduced to Mr. Goschen, the First Lord of the Admiralty, I felt like I had stepped into another world. Last night I had met the prime minister. Tonight it was a member of his cabinet.

There were two other, younger men in the room who were introduced as Sir William Darby and Mr. Frederick Nobles. I curtsied my way through the introductions, praying my shock and confusion didn’t show.

One of the things Phyllida had taught me was the importance of having an even number of men and women at dinner parties. She said she learned the necessity of balanced numbers at social events at about the time she learned to walk. Since Lady Fleetwhite was the only other lady present, I knew something was not right.

We went into the dining room, where instead of being seated by order of precedence, I had the duke on one side and Sir William on the other. Lady Fleetwhite sat across from me, with Mr. Nobles on one side and Mr. Goschen on the other. Lord Fleetwhite sat at our end of the table. The other half of the table sat empty of place settings or decoration, putting us close enough together so that no one needed to raise his voice to be heard.

“I’m afraid we’re not doing things by the rules tonight,” Lady Fleetwhite said.

“More in the family style. How lovely,” I replied with a bright smile. My mind was working feverishly. They wanted something from me, or more precisely, the Archivist Society. Since the Admiralty was represented, I knew Gattenger’s blueprints for the new warship were the reason for this meeting.

Once the soup course had been delivered to our mysterious dinner party, the servants departed. I had eaten one spoonful when Lord Fleetwhite said, “I understand you don’t believe Kenneth Gattenger killed his wife.”

“I don’t.”

“Why?”

I took a deep breath as I set down my spoon. “A burglar could have come and gone from the study during the Gattengers’ dinner without leaving a trace. However, they had a shortened dinner that night and went straight to the study. There’s room behind the door for an enterprising thief to hide when the Gattengers entered the room.”

Glancing around, I saw I had everyone’s attention. The duke gave me an encouraging nod. “Gattenger says that’s where the burglar hid, and it was only when Gattenger blocked his escape out the window that the thief, with the plans in one hand, struck him down. The shouting the servants heard could have been Mr. and Mrs. Gattenger shouting at the thief when they saw him, and not a fight between husband and wife.”

“A convenient story,” Sir William said. “The thief could have easily escaped through the house.”

“With the household raising a hue and cry after him? This way, the burglar could escape unseen by any but the Gattengers. Kenny was down, no threat to him, and he apparently didn’t realize Clara would try to stop him. He probably made the mistake of thinking a woman would have the vapors at the slightest hint of trouble.”

Lady Fleetwhite looked down, her serviette raised too late to hide her smile.

“Yes, well,” Sir William began and ground to a stop.

“We need to know what happened to those plans. That warship is increasingly important to our safety as a nation,” Mr. Goschen said. I wondered if the worry lines etched into his forehead and around his eyes were new or from years of serving Her Majesty. The dark circles under his eyes were no doubt due to the current crisis.

“I think Clara grabbed for the plans and managed to tear at least the last sheet. I also think the burglar struck out at her to try to save the plans he was sent to steal. The piece that was found partially burned near her body could have fallen into the fire when she was attacked and killed. Her death may have been a tragic accident.” Clara, who’d married beneath her class for love and died protecting her husband’s work, had won my admiration.

“The thief has the plans minus at least part of the last page. A page with critical calculations,” Blackford said. “You must be ready for an attempt to steal that last page. And we believe we’ve uncovered a traitor in the records room.”

“Who?” Goschen demanded.

“We have someone planted in the records room who is watching the suspect. As soon as he is certain, he’ll let us know,” the duke said.

“So far, there’s been no report of anyone tampering with or trying to steal the last page of those blueprints,” Goschen said.

“We don’t believe the person who ordered the theft has learned part of the plans is missing. The thief still has them, and he wouldn’t know what was important and what wasn’t,” Blackford said.

“How do we know we can trust the discretion of the Archivist Society?” Mr. Nobles asked.

“Because you can,” I answered as everyone else looked at him.

Mr. Nobles shut his mouth and gave one long nod.

The servants came in and cleared the soup course, replacing it with fish and green peas. Once they had left, I continued. “Ken and Clara Gattenger were happy together. They’d waited a long time to wed, and they enjoyed each other’s company very much.”

“What of the gossip I heard about their public rows? I saw one myself,” Lady Fleetwhite said.

“They’d only been married a year, and Clara Gattenger had suffered two miscarriages. She was devastated by the loss.”

Sir William and Mr. Nobles were both blushing. The other men took a sudden interest in their fish. Lady Fleetwhite shook her head slightly as she glanced around the table and said, “Are you certain it was a love match?”

“Yes.”

“What about his rumored affairs? One was with the current—friend of the German spy, Baron von Steubfeld.”

“The Gattengers had a very long engagement, broken off twice, at which times Mr. Gattenger had affairs with other women. There were no affairs while their engagement was ongoing or after they wed,” I assured her.

“Apparently he loved his wife. If that is so, he would have found a way to destroy those plans without endangering her. I believe you, Mrs. Monthalf. Those ship designs were stolen, not destroyed by Kenneth Gattenger.” Lady Fleetwhite gave her husband one sharp nod.

“Drawings that we must prevent from falling into the wrong hands,” her husband said.

“How do you know they haven’t already?” I asked.

Several of the men exchanged glances. Finally, Sir William said, “There is a branch of Whitehall that has ears in many places. That’s not entirely accurate. They’re not our ears, just ears who are sympathetic to our interests.”

“For money,” I said.

“Sometimes. Sometimes their interests are a bit more complicated. All of them, here in London or in Berlin, are certain the warship design has not reached the kaiser’s government. They are very aware it is missing, but German telegrams indicate they don’t know where it is.”

“Are you certain the burglar was in the employ of the Germans? We are not well loved by the French and Russians, much less the Austrians, the Spanish, the—” the duke began.

Lord Fleetwhite interrupted him. “The French now know they’re missing, as do the Russians and Austrians. None of them seem to have been involved in the actual theft, but now their local agents are all scouting around, trying to get their hands on those papers by order of their governments.”

“Sir Henry Stanford convinced Gattenger to recheck his equations on the night the burglar took the plans. He needs money. Do we have any idea which government could have paid him to make the theft possible?” The duke looked around the table.

His words ruined my appetite. At least I had eaten a few bites of the fish before the servants whisked it away, replaced by pigeons and beans in thick gravy. I didn’t mind talking through this course. “Do the police have eyes on the Russian and French spies? Do we know the identity of everyone involved in trying to recover the ship’s plans?”

“We know all the Russian and Austrian spies, although a large contingent of Russians with their servants just arrived in London for the announcement of an engagement between a member of the imperial Russian court and a member of the queen’s extended family. There could be a new spy in that group.

“Unfortunately, the French and Spanish are more subtle. We don’t know who their spies are or who might be carrying their messages back to their countries. And we have very little manpower to keep tabs on the foreign agents we know about, much less the ones we don’t know.” Lord Fleetwhite eyed me cautiously. “That of course goes no further.”

Great. They didn’t know the identity of everyone chasing the blueprints. I nodded my agreement. “Have the police found Mick Snelling yet?”

“No. He’s gone to ground. He knows we’re looking for him,” Mr. Nobles said.

“‘We’?” I asked.

He blushed as he realized he’d slipped up. “I’m the Scotland Yard liaison to Whitehall, playing the role of an idle young man for this mission.”

“We know the design will work. So now all we can do is wait,” Mr. Goschen said. “And I don’t like waiting.”

“Are you speaking as First Lord of the Admiralty or a businessman?” Blackford asked.

Goschen gave a dry smile. “Both. We can’t afford to have these drawings fall into foreign hands both for the safety of the country and for the good of our business interests.”

“Kenneth Gattenger can’t afford for us to fail to catch his wife’s killer. He’s facing a hangman’s noose,” I reminded them.

“You’re Mrs. Gattenger’s kin. Why are you so concerned for her husband?” Lord Fleetwhite asked.

That wasn’t true, and they knew about my connection to the Archivist Society. What had Blackford told them about me? “I want the right man to hang for Clara’s death. That man isn’t her husband.”

It wasn’t until the roast course, leg of lamb with carrots and spinach, had been brought in and the servants had removed themselves, along with the nasty-looking pigeon dishes, that Lord Fleetwhite spoke again. “How do we know Gattenger wasn’t a party to the theft? We have the letter passed between the Germans and him. He was seen talking to a German agent two evenings before the theft. He needed the money. Snelling might have been there by appointment.”

“We know Snelling wasn’t there by invitation because Clara was killed. Ken Gattenger would never have allowed that.” My fork and the carrot on it went back on my plate.

“An accident during a falling-out of thieves.”

I stared down the table at Lord Fleetwhite. “I asked Gattenger about the letter.”

“You did what?” Fleetwhite raised his voice. Looking around the room, he lowered it to a conversational pitch. “He’s not supposed to know we have it.”

“Well, he does. And he admits he received it and gave them an equivocal answer. He needed the money for his wife and unborn child and so he considered selling the design to the Germans. Clara miscarried, and his reason for taking the money was gone. When he told them no, the Germans threatened him.”

“Which Germans?”

“It was dark. He couldn’t see the man’s face.”

“How convenient.” Fleetwhite’s mouth closed in a thin line.

“He tried to stop a thief from taking the ship’s plans.”

“After he’d agreed to sell them to a foreign power. He may have planned for the burglar to come into the study. As far as I’m concerned, he’s guilty of treason and at least partially responsible for his wife’s death. He can rot in jail until we get those blueprints back, and then he can have his trial.” Fleetwhite tossed his serviette on the table.

Goschen nodded, as did Darby and Nobles.

I shifted forward in my chair, ready to disagree, when Blackford laid a hand over mine. I looked up into his dark eyes to see him give a small shake of his head.

“We’ll need some police presence outside Lord Harwin’s estate this weekend to capture Snelling with the plans,” the duke told them.

“Nobles and I will both be there to help, but the police are already stretched thin watching the Germans in London and now the newly arrived Russians for this engagement party. There are rumors of anarchist activity. We’ll have to use whatever forces the local constabulary can provide,” Sir William said.

“I’ll see how many Archivist Society members can get away from London for the next few days,” I offered.

“Let me know and I’ll make arrangements for their lodging and travel,” Blackford said. I’m sure his smile was meant to be encouraging.

I returned the smile, feeling anything but reassured. “By the way, why isn’t Sir Jonah Denby here?”

“Old Denby?” Sir William asked. “Why would he be here?”

“He’s approached me a couple of times asking what we’ve learned so far.”

“Why would he be interested? Denby works in the ceremonial office, coordinating events with the palace,” Lord Fleetwhite said.

“You might ask him. He’s been to see me. I didn’t look for him.”

“Have you ever met him before?” Sir William asked.

“No.” The room became very quiet. I looked at their faces staring back at me.

“We’ll talk to Denby tomorrow. In the meantime, don’t tell him anything else. Just in case,” Lord Fleetwhite said.

“Just in case?”

“Just in case he’s another spy on the hunt for those drawings,” Blackford said.

Dinner went on for another three courses, but I didn’t learn anything new. I ate and drank sparingly but still felt sick from worry and weak from fatigue when we were released from the table. With the tepid thanks of three governmental departments, Blackford and I walked into the dark, warm night. I wanted to curl up on the hard carriage bench and go right to sleep, but Blackford had his plan to carry out.

“I think two hours will be sufficient for our tryst,” he said.

I gave him the big yawn I’d been fighting throughout dinner.

He gracefully crossed the carriage to join me on my seat. Putting an arm around me, he said, “You have to learn to look at me with love in your eyes if we’re going to carry this off at Lord Harwin’s.”

He tickled my ear and ran a finger down my neck, until another huge yawn got in his way.

“Oh, Georgia,” he said, pulling me against his soft jacket and kissing the top of my head.

It was dark in the carriage and I was comfortable and safe nestled in Blackford’s embrace. My eyes refused to stay open. He said something, but I couldn’t make any sense of it. He jostled me, but my eyes stayed shut and my mind refused to work.