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Authors: Susan Gee Heino

Damsel in Disguise (51 page)

BOOK: Damsel in Disguise
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Miss Sands was breathlessly informing the man—also in French—what she had learned from Sophie. He appeared similarly affected when Fitzgelder’s name was mentioned. He scanned the room, then hurried them into a corner where they could duck behind a screened wall that had been erected for concealing musicians during an entertainment. He lowered his voice and rattled a string of questions. Was Miss Sands certain it was him? Had he seen her? What else did she know?
Without bothering to answer him, Miss Sands responded with a barrage of her own questions for the man. What could he have been thinking when he scheduled this performance? Did he not realize this was London and they should have been more careful? What did he suggest they do now?
From what Sophie could gather from their hurried, harried conversation, the gentleman insisted he
had
been careful. He was quite certain Mr. Fitzgelder’s name had not come up when arrangements were made for this event. In fact, it appeared he thought he’d been hired by a man named Smith.
Then he noticed
her
. Miss Sands gave him her first name and explained—tactfully—the reason for Sophie’s lamentable bruising. The man’s distress was even more pronounced. He swore.
“And you’ve believed her story?” he asked gruffly, still in his elegant French.
Well, that was far from the sympathy she’d hoped for!
“Of course I believe her,” Miss Sands replied. “Just look at her.”
“You trusted her, just because of a little bruising?”
The man was eyeing Sophie with a dark suspicion. She didn’t much care for the intensity of this scrutiny. What exactly did he think she had done?
“I haven’t told her anything,” Miss Sands went on, also in a very cultured French. Sophie got the idea they had no clue she could understand them.
“Good. Fitzgelder could be using her to get information,” the man said.
What? But that was ridiculous. Whatever could they be talking about? She knew nothing about any information. She wasted no time setting things straight. In French.
“Mr. Fitzgelder certainly was not interested in me for information, monsieur.”
They seemed surprised.
“You are French?” the gentleman asked.
“My father was French,” Sophie responded. “But Mrs. Harwell scolds me if I do not speak English.”
“So you understood our conversation,” Miss Sands said.
Sophie shook her head. “Not in the least.”
“Don’t lie to us,” the man said, leaning over her so that she was forced to take a step back. “Did Mr. Fitzgelder send you to find out about us?”
“Find out about you? Heavens, if that was all Mr. Fitzgelder asked of me I would not be wearing this,” Sophie replied, touching her swollen eyelid. “Besides, you’re in his home. He must know about you already, I would think.”
“What did he tell you of us?” the man demanded.
“But he did not mention you at all! I came to you hoping to avoid him.”
The gentleman did not seem entirely convinced. “You had no other reason to ingratiate yourself with my daughter?”
So this was his daughter, was it? No wonder he was concerned. Any father with a pretty young daughter who suddenly found himself in Mr. Fitzgelder’s home had good reason to be concerned.
Sophie swallowed and forced herself to meet his flashing eyes as she replied. “Well, I had thought perhaps if I took extra care, Miss Sands might give me a reference so I could find a position elsewhere.”
“See, Papa?” the actress announced. “Surely you can’t believe she would ever help Fitzgelder. Look at her! We ought to go while we can and take her with us.”
The man frowned, this thick brows nearly touching above his prominent nose. “But if we leave, that will only alert Fitzgelder that something is not right. No, we must think this through first.”
“It’s too dangerous. We must go now!”
“If we go he’ll only follow. No, I must think of something else.”
They argued a bit and Sophie felt as if she really ought not be privy to their conversation. Clearly these people had some great, dark reason to fear her master and it did appear as if Mr. Fitzgelder must have lured them here intentionally. She felt sorry for them, of course, but at the same time she couldn’t help but realize things would go especially bad for her if she were discovered in their company.
She tried to excuse herself.
“But you cannot go back to work for that monster!” Miss Sands suddenly protested, grabbing at her hand to keep her hidden with them there.
Suddenly Sophie was inclined to agree. She’d barely poked her head out from around the screened wall and quickly ducked back in.
He
was here.
Miss Sands’s father noticed and leaned forward to peer through the openings in the screen. Miss Sands did the same, her breath catching in a way that Sophie could truly not find surprising. Women often did that upon sight of the tall, impeccably dressed gentleman and his arguably perfect features.
“Is that him?” she asked with a mix of awe and astonishment. “Is that Fitzgelder?”
Sophie had to stifle a laugh. As if there could be any comparison!
“No, it’s someone else,” her father replied. “I don’t know him.”
“Lindley,” Sophie informed them. “His name is Lindley.”
“The earl?”
Sophie nodded.
“We are in trouble, then,” the actor said.
Sophie joined Miss Sands in sending him a curious glance. He ran his hand through his thick, dark hair and sighed. Could these people have something against Lindley, too? Sophie watched intently as a careful determination stole over the older man’s face.
“Papa, who is this Lindley? What does he have to do with us?”
“Nothing,
ma chou-chou
. He is merely a friend of Fitzgelder’s. But this tells me what I must do.”
“It does?”
“Indeed. I must leave.”
“No, Papa.
We
must leave. Together.”
He shook his head. “No, people must merely
think
we’ve left together. Remember,
ma belle,
he’s never seen you. You must stay here where you will be safe.”
“Safe?
Here?
You cannot be serious, Papa!” Miss Sands protested.
Sophie voiced her agreement. “Beg pardon, monsieur, but Mr. Fitzgelder will surely take notice of Miss Sands, even if he does not know her. I cannot think she’ll be safe here!”
The actor simply smiled at them. “She will if she gives the performance of her lifetime.”
BOOK: Damsel in Disguise
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