Lucasta (8 page)

Lucasta hurried back to her party to explain as best she could her long absence while Jacob began his enquiries. These led him eventually to Cheapside. It was late and the clear day had given way to an equally clear night. Jacob was glad of his heavy surcoat to ward off the chilly air as he wandered through the darkening streets. There were few lights burning in the windows, although when he turned into Milk Street one bow window glowed with lamplight. Sounds of singing and raucous laughter escaped each time the door opened, evidence that the tavern was busy. Further along the street he saw another block of light, a shop window. As he drew near he could see a woman inside the shop, engaged in sweeping the floor. Her hair was hidden beneath a mob-cap but one or two red-gold locks had escaped and curled against her creamy cheeks. Her low neckline displayed an ample bosom and her sleeves were rolled up, exposing the soft white skin of her arms. When she stepped out to sweep her doorstep he observed that her kirtle was caught up out of the dirt, displaying her fine ankles to great advantage. Jacob stopped, admiring the view from the far side of the street but at that moment two men came strolling by, arm in arm, commenting loudly upon the woman’s
charms as they reached the shop front. Jacob could not hear the words but their meaning was plain enough, and he could tell that the woman was affronted.

‘Be off with you!’ she cried, wielding her broom like a weapon before her.

The men laughed and moved on while the woman glared after them. Jacob grinned to himself.

‘And you can begone, too,’ snapped the woman, turning her attention to him. ‘There’s women a-plenty next door if that’s what you’re after.’

‘No, no,’ Jacob strolled towards her, touching his hat. ‘I’m here on business.’

She curled her lip, a look of disbelief in her dark eyes.

‘Well go about your business, then.’

She propped the broom against the wall and reached for one of the window shutters.

‘Here, let me do that.’ Jacob stepped up and took the board from her. She watched him slot it into place over the window then silently handed him the next one.

‘Thank you,’ she muttered when the final shutter was secured.

He looked up at the legend above the door.

‘Mrs Sarah Jessop, cheesemonger.’ He cocked one eyebrow at her. ‘Would that be you, then?’

‘And what if it is?’

‘Then my business is with you, Mistress Jessop. Rather, it is with your tenant. I believe you have a gentleman lodging here, a Mr Miesel?’ It seemed to him that she drew back a little.

‘Oh? And what is he to you?’

‘I’ve never yet met the man,’ he answered mildly. ‘I merely wants a word with him. Would he be within?’

‘No he isn’t.’ She picked up her broom and stepped back
into the doorway. He could see a narrow passage behind her leading to a flight of stairs, while an inner doorway to her right gave access to the cheese shop. ‘You’ll find him in the Raven.’ She pointed across the road to the tavern. ‘He takes his dinner there every night.’

He touched his hat again.

‘Thank you, Mistress, I’m obliged to you.’

She rebuffed his smile with a suspicious glare, stepped back and slammed the door. Jacob stared at the closed door, grinning.

‘As I said, ma’am, I’m obliged to you,’ he repeated before retracing his steps and entering the tavern.

The air in the taproom was warm and fragrant with a mixture of ale, meat and onions. To one side there was a long table flanked by two benches. A number of men were
gathered
there to enjoy their dinner. Some wore livery and others were dressed in the black coat and knee-breeches favoured by the more personal servant. Jacob glanced along the row. There, near the far end of the table, was his quarry, a small neatly dressed man with close-set eyes and untidy,
sandy-coloured
hair that stuck out around his ears. He smiled inwardly; Miss Symonds had the right of it, describing the fellow as a weasel. He called for a jug of ale and a steak pie and took his seat at the long table. The conversation was free-flowing and noisy but not exclusive: within a few moments Jacob was joining in, explaining away his
homespuns
by saying he had been working for a country
gentleman
until the old man died and he been obliged to leave his livery behind.

‘Aye, it’s a poor do if yer gaffer snuffs it,’ agreed his
neighbour
, shaking his head. ‘The family wouldn’t keep you on, then?’

‘He didn’t have no family,’ returned Jacob. ‘Place was shut
up. Can’t imagine that happening here in London.’

‘Oh can’t you?’ grinned a liveried footman sitting opposite. ‘Well that’s where you’re wrong. The little shaver at the end of the table is in just such a pickle.’

‘Lost ’is place, has he?’ Jacob spoke casually, trying not to show too much interest.

‘Not so much lost, ‘ad it taken from him,’ said Jacob’s neighbour, coming back into the conversation. ‘His master was murdered, and there’s no one now to pay ’is wages.’

‘Murdered!’ Jacob gave a low whistle and the footman nodded.

‘Aye, coming back to Lunnon he was, and our friend with him. You may think that a valet could live comfortable-like in his master’s lodgings, until such times as things were sold up,’ the footman continued, pre-empting Jacob’s next question. ‘But no. He packed his bags and quit the place as soon as maybe. Ain’t that right, Dan?’ He leaned forward to shout down the table, and Miesel raised his eyes from his dinner. ‘It’s true, ain’t it, that you can’t go back to Sir Talbot’s lodgings?’

Miesel’s pale eyes glanced around the table, resting briefly on Jacob, who schooled his features into a look of mild
interest
. He thought there was little chance that Miesel would recognize him: when their paths had crossed at Bromsgrove the valet had been too busy fawning upon his bullying master to spare a glance for a lowly groom. He kept his gaze upon Miesel as he gave his companions a sly smile.

‘I was scared, you see: as witness to a murder and all, there’s some might want to keep me quiet.’

Jacob leaned forward.

‘You saw the murder?’

‘Aye. I was there.’

One of the men reached for the blackjack of ale and refilled his mug.

‘Tell us again what happened, Dan.’

‘We’d not long been on the common when there comes a shot from behind the bushes. Sir Talbot takes out his pistol and begins to climb down from the curricle. “I’ll hold ’em, Dan”, he says. “Run and fetch help, man!” So I did, but by the time I got back he was lyin’ dead on the road.’

‘But they’ve got the culprit now,’ chipped in the footman. ‘A viscount, he is, and killed his man in cold blood.’

‘You saw this viscount murder your master?’ asked Jacob.

The valet’s face took on a sly look.

‘I saw a tall man in a greyish caped greatcoat and a beaver hat, and he had another man with him, a much shorter fellow. Slightly built. A lad, mebbe.’

‘Kennington and his groom,’ nodded another of his
auditors
. ‘No doubt about it.’

Miesel shrugged.

‘How can I say? I’m not going to perjure myself. It could have been Lord Kennington but I couldn’t say for sure.’ He took a long draught from his mug and dragged his hand across his mouth, adding with a sly grin, ‘But like the magistrate said to me, how many tall gentlemen in light-coloured driving coats was crossing Hansford Common that day?’

‘I thought you said the attackers were hiding,’ said Jacob. ‘If you ran off immediately, how did you see who was
shooting
at you?’

‘They came out from hiding, as I made off,’ said Miesel. ‘And like I told the magistrate, if I saw
them
, ’tis very likely they saw me, and will want to silence me. “Don’t you worry, my good man”, he says to me, “we’ll keep the villains clapped up. No harm will come to you”. But what I says is, he’ll have friends, this viscount, and they’ll come to Sir Talbot’s
lodgings
, looking for me, as sure as eggs.’

Miesel scowled into his mug and his neighbour clapped
him on the shoulder.

‘No need to worry now, though, Dan. You’re among friends here. We’ll keep you safe to see justice is done.’

‘Aye, justice,’ nodded Jacob, raising his mug. ‘I’ll drink to that!’

An early morning airing gave Lucasta the opportunity for another meeting with Jacob Potts the next day, although with her pin-money spent she was obliged to buy her maid’s silence by giving her one of her bonnets. Hannah was quite happy with this arrangement and even dropped back to a discreet distance while her mistress conducted her business. The maid considered Miss Symonds a very pleasant-spoken young lady, and when she saw the look of dismay on her mistress’s face she surmised that the rough-looking man with the bad leg had brought her bad news. As they walked back to Sophia Street, Lucasta’s distracted air seemed to confirm this view and when the young lady took herself off to her bedchamber, refusing breakfast, Hannah was
seriously
alarmed. She was debating whether she should break her silence and take Cook, who was her aunt, into her
confidence
, when she was ordered to carry a note to Miss Symonds. The message, whatever it was, worked like a charm upon the young lady: no sooner had she read its contents than she began to smile.

‘Hannah,’ she said, ‘you had best fetch your bonnet and cloak again, for I need you to accompany me to see the Duchess of Filwood.
Now
we shall see some action!’

Lucasta went in search of her mother to ask her permission to call upon the duchess. She found Lady Symonds and Camilla still in the breakfast room, where her
announcement
that she had received an invitation to visit Filwood House was received with dismay.

‘Mama you cannot allow it,’ cried Camilla. ‘We must keep our distance from this affair, you said so yourself.’

‘I did, of course,’ muttered Lady Symonds, carefully
studying
the note. ‘However, it will not do to offend the Duchess of Filwood.’

‘Especially when she has shown me so much kindness,’ put in Lucasta.

‘And her son, the duke, is still unmarried.’

‘Really, Mama, how can that be important? Camilla is promised to Lord Kennington.’

‘No I am not,’ said Camilla quickly. ‘Nothing was formally agreed.’

‘But much was implied!’

‘That will do, Lucasta. We should all be thankful that no engagement has been announced. Once this sorry affair is settled then, of course, Camilla can resume her association with the viscount. Until then, well, since the duchess wishes to continue her acquaintance with you, Lucasta, I do not see it can do any harm, as long as you are discreet.’

‘Then I may go, Mama?’

‘I dare not refuse.’

Remembering her visit to Adam Lucasta looked at her sister.

‘The duchess will no doubt be seeing Lord Kennington, Camilla, do you have any message to pass to him?’

‘No, nothing.’ Camilla tossed her head. ‘Pray do not look at
me in that way, Lucasta. What would be said of me if it was known I was consorting with a criminal?’

‘You are not very charitable, Sister.’

‘There is no room here for charity,’ cut in Lady Symonds. ‘Camilla must maintain her reputation. And you must take care what you say to the duchess, Lucasta. You must do nothing to jeopardize our family. Perhaps I should come with you.’

Lucasta put up her hand, saying quickly, ‘Her Grace has requested only me, Mama. We would not want to offend….’ She breathed sigh of relief when her mother accepted this and it was in a mood of optimism that she went off to collect her pelisse.

Lady Symonds ordered her carriage to take Lucasta the short distance to Filwood House. Leaving her maid to await her in the echoing hall, Lucasta followed the footman to the morning-room, where she was informed that her grace was expecting her. She entered with some trepidation, but as the door was closed upon them the duchess held out her hands, saying with her twinkling smile, ‘I knew you would make a handsome young lady!’

With something like a sob Lucasta ran forward to clasp the beringed fingers.

‘Your Grace, I am so glad you are here. I have been so wretched!’

‘Well, I should think so, with Adam accused of murder and locked up in gaol!’ She guided Lucasta to a sofa. ‘Sit down, child. I had the story from Potts before he left me and I made sure all would be resolved by the time I came to Town. Instead I find everything in a sad pickle.’

‘They – they will not g-grant him bail,’ stammered Lucasta, blinking back the tears.

The duchess nodded.

‘Aye, so I heard. However, I have set my own people to work on it and I expect them to deliver Adam here to me within the hour. No point in having family connections if one doesn’t make use of ’em! So, tell me what has gone on here. No one knows of your part in this tangle?’

‘No, ma’am, only my mother and sister, and they are very anxious that the story should not get out. Ad— I mean, Lord Kennington has forbidden me to tell anyone else; he says it will not help his case.’

‘Quite right, too. It would only complicate matters. Best let the lawyers take care of it.’

‘But you do not know the worst of it, ma’am. Potts went to see the dead man’s valet last night, thinking to persuade him to talk again to the magistrates, to correct their assumption that Lord Kennington was the murderer, but he learned that it was the valet himself who has given my lord’s description to the magistrate.’

‘The devil he has!’

Miserably, Lucasta repeated everything Jacob Potts had told her while the duchess listened in frowning silence.

‘Well it seems to me that this – this Miesel has his own reasons for putting the blame upon my godson.’

Lucasta nibbled on her finger, a tiny crease in her brow. ‘It was Miesel who reported that a necklace had been stolen.’ She looked up, wide-eyed, at the duchess. ‘What if he stole the necklace for himself?’

‘Then that would give him a very good reason for shuffling the blame onto someone else.’ She bent her shrewd gaze upon Lucasta. ‘You seem to know a great deal about this matter.’

‘Potts came to find me yesterday: he was anxious for his master, and had no one else to call upon.’

‘But that is not all, is it? I can see by your face that there
is more.’ With the duchess’s piercing eyes fixed upon her, Lucasta felt the blood warming her cheeks. ‘Well, child?’

‘And’ – the words were barely more than a whisper – ‘and I went to Newgate, to see Lord Kennington.’ She drew a breath. ‘I was not recognized – I was heavily veiled, and no one knows of my visit, except Adam and now yourself.’ She peeped up at her hostess and was relieved to see that the duchess was smiling.

‘What a resourceful young lady you are.’

‘They are saying such things of him in Town and I could not let him think he was friendless.’

The duchess patted her hands.

‘You have a kind heart, Lucasta. Now we shall wait for Adam to arrive before we discuss what is to be done.’

It was almost an hour later when they heard sounds of an arrival. Lucasta jumped to her feet as the door opened and Lord Kennington walked in. When he saw Lucasta he paused, his brows rising in surprise. He made a small bow in her direction and strode across the room to the duchess.

‘Godmama.’ He kissed both her hands. ‘I shall be eternally grateful to you for this. How did you secure my release?’

The duchess chuckled.

‘Friends, my dear boy, friends in the highest places. I invited Miss Symonds to join us to decide how we are going to get you out of this scrape.’

‘I am delighted to see you again, Miss Symonds.’ The smile he directed towards her made Lucasta’s heart flip over. ‘And your family, they know that you are here?’

‘They do, my lord.’

He continued to look at her: she saw the question in his eyes and it pained her that she could not answer it. At length he spoke again.

‘Your sister is well, I hope?’

‘Y-yes, sir. She is. She, um, she eagerly awaits news of your acquittal.’

‘She does not wish to be associated with an accused murderer.’

The bitterness in his voice flayed her spirits. She could think of nothing to say. The duchess tapped his arm with her fan.

‘Be sensible, Adam! An overt display of loyalty could ruin the chit.’

Lord Kennington’s lip curled.

‘Thank you for pointing that out, Your Grace.’

‘Ungrateful dog! If you continue to look like that I shall wash my hands of you. Sit down, sir and let us decide what we are going to do.’

The viscount gave a short laugh.

‘My apologies, Godmama, for my boorish manners.’ He held out his hand to Lucasta. ‘And to you, Miss Symonds. Will you not be seated?’

Having guided Lucasta to the sofa he sat down beside her and she could not quite crush the satisfaction she felt at his proximity.

‘The first thing is to find Potts,’ he said. ‘My valet tells me he has gone into hiding to avoid being taken up.’

‘Perhaps we should ask Miss Symonds where he may be found,’ drawled the duchess.

Lord Kennington turned to look at her.

‘You have seen Jacob?’

‘He found me,’ she murmured.

‘Well, that is good news!’ he exclaimed, grinning.

However, by the time she had related all her dealings with Jacob Potts and describing his meeting with Miesel, none of them was smiling.

‘It confirms my suspicions that Miesel is planning some game of his own. But he is clever: to identify me would condemn him, if I should prove my innocence. Much cleverer to give only a description: who is to say that it was not some chance attack by footpads? Witness our own encounter on the common. The key, I think, is the emerald necklace. If we find that, we shall find the murderer.’

‘But how are we going to do that?’ asked Lucasta.

The viscount’s face darkened.

‘I shall see Miesel and beat the truth out of him!’

‘That you will not,’ retorted the duchess. ‘You must not do anything to make your own situation worse than it is; heaven knows you have already given everyone enough cause to suspect you.’

‘I fear that was my fault, ma’am.’ Lucasta was compelled to speak up. ‘If I had not been with Lord Kennington he would not have been so anxious to quit the Pigeons at the earliest moment.’

‘Oh yes I would!’

As Lucasta eyes flew to his face he grinned at her.

‘My bed was damnably uncomfortable, you know.’

The duchess waved an impatient hand.

‘However that may be, you are going to remain here with me until we can bring this matter to a close.’

‘Oh? And what does the duke say to that, having a felon in his house?’

‘My son is in Yorkshire, so he can say nothing about it,’ she returned with a twinkle. ‘Although, I
have
left Giggs at Coombe Chase, and I have no doubt he has already written to Filwood to apprise him of this latest indiscretion. Now, I have summoned Gretton, for I knew you could not be persuaded to stay here without your valet: he is even now upstairs preparing your rooms for you.’

‘And Potts?’

‘I do not think we can guarantee his freedom, so for the moment perhaps it is best if he remains at large.’

The viscount sighed.

‘I think you are right, ma’am. Jacob would detest Newgate.’ He rose. ‘If you will excuse me, I shall go and change. I am anxious to remove the stench of the prison cell from my person.’

Lucasta observed him from beneath her lashes: she thought he looked as immaculate as ever, only the grim set of his mouth and a slight shadowing under his eyes gave any hint of his ordeal. She stood up.

‘I think I should go now.’ She held out her hand to him. ‘I am relieved that you are no longer in prison, my lord.’

He took her fingers and kissed them lightly.

‘You must not worry, Lucasta. We shall soon resolve this matter.’

‘I am sure we shall.’ She gave him a faint smile then turned to make her curtsey to the duchess. ‘I beg of you, ma’am, please keep me informed, and tell me if there is anything I can do – I want to help.’

‘Bless you, child, I know that. If your mama will permit, I shall take you driving with me tomorrow, at which time I shall be able to tell you all that has happened. In fact – will you be at Lymington House this evening? Kennington shall introduce me to your mama and I will ask her myself if I can steal you away.’

‘Godmama, you cannot expect me to go out with you tonight. I have no wish to be paraded before the
ton
—’

‘Your wishes do not enter into this, Adam. You are innocent and we must make the world believe it!’