The Counterfeit Lady (13 page)

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Authors: Kate Parker

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BOOK: The Counterfeit Lady
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“No, I don’t,” Emma said, giving the thief a big smile. “You can search me for one if you want. You won’t find a thing. He’s lying.”

Our young robber knew we’d pulled some sort of switch and shook his head in frustration. The bobby was trying to be gallant to Emma, asking her name and saying he hoped she hadn’t been hurt as they walked off.

I turned to Phyllida. “We need to find a carriage to take us home after our excitement.”

“Thank you, Georgina, for rescuing my new hat.” She clutched the box to her.

“And I’m certain it will look lovely on you.” Baron von Steubfeld stepped out of the small crowd that had gathered to watch the commotion. “I was just dining in the Grosvenor Club across the street. My carriage will be here in a moment. Perhaps I can give you ladies a ride home?” He bowed.

“That is most kind of you, Baron.” Phyllida curtsied.

I followed with my own curtsy. “That would be lovely.”

His carriage, with the German embassy seal on the side, pulled up nearby and the three of us, and all our packages, fit into the interior. Like everything else in London, the black leather seats were hot enough to iron our skirts and scald our skin.

“I’m so glad you’re traveling with us to Gloucestershire,” I said, sounding lame to my ears. “I’ve never been to Germany, and I hope you’ll tell me more about it.”

“That would be my pleasure. We have much to delight the tourist. Magnificent scenery. Medieval castles and cathedrals. Museums. Folk festivals. You must come to Germany sometime. Both of you.”

“But it’s not so modern a country as Britain, is it?”

“Never. It is more modern. Our military is the greatest in Europe. Our industry surpasses Britain’s. But those are not the things that would interest two ladies.” He smiled at me through that ferocious mustache, and I returned the smile.

“Tell me,” he continued, “what caused the scene in the street just now?”

“A robber knocked over our maid and stole my hatbox,” Phyllida told him.

“You are unhurt?”

“Yes, quite unhurt.”

“That is fortunate. And he stole nothing else?”

“No.”

“How odd.” The baron fell silent.

It was an odd thing to steal, but it was a good size for holding all the plans to Gattenger’s new ship. If the baron truly thought it was odd, maybe he wasn’t in on the theft. Who else had spies in London?

The French and the Russians, surely. Perhaps the Austrians. Could I get him to talk about the other diplomats? “Do you have any diplomatic events in the near future? I imagine full dress uniforms with loads of medals would be uncomfortable in hot weather.”

“They are, but there are no events scheduled until the queen returns from Osborne House.”

“Do you see other diplomats in London outside of formal events?”

“Of course. I was just dining with the first secretary of the Austrian embassy while you had your scuffle with a thief.” He gave me a tight-lipped smile that seemed to dare me to ask anything else.

Once we arrived at the town house, I took a cool bath both to wake me up and to remove the dust and sweat that clung to my skin. Then, while Phyllida bathed, I helped Emma pack for our trip the next morning.

“The magistrate didn’t question me closely and let me go with his thanks. He paid no attention to our robber’s claim that I had a knife.” She gave me her angelic smile, all blond innocence and big blue eyes.

If I’d been the magistrate, I’d have believed her, too. Emma’s looks let her get away with almost anything, particularly when she was trying to get around a male. Eight or eighty, it didn’t matter. They all crumbled at her feet.

“Do you think the theft had anything to do with the anonymous note?” Emma asked.

“If it did, it was very poorly done.” I looked at Emma and shrugged. “I think our correspondent is brighter than to use that foolish young man.”

“I think you’re right,” Emma said while she folded one of my dresses. Then I saw her nibble on her bottom lip. “I’ve never been outside of London.”

“It’s all right, Emma. I seldom have, either. But the trains go out there, and we’ll have Blackford there. And Sumner part of the time. It’s not like you have to sleep in the fields and forests at night. You’ll be safely inside.”

She gave me a dry look. “Inside may not be any safer. But I’ll do whatever needs to be done to find out who killed Clara Gattenger, and so will you.”

“I was only trying to make you feel better.” I folded a petticoat with more vigor than necessary.

“I know. And I’ll be glad when we go home, too.”

I nodded. We understood each other.

There was a knock on the door and then we heard male voices. “Oh, blast. It’s five o’clock. Sir Henry is here to extract his first pound of flesh.”

Emma was immediately on alert.

I patted her arm. “I’ll explain when I come back upstairs.”

A moment later, a maid brought up a calling card on a tray. Sir Henry.

“Thank you. Have him wait in the parlor. Tell him I’ll be right there.”

The maid curtsied and went downstairs.

“Emma, keep Phyllida up here. I’m going to have to lie, and it’s imperative that Phyllida is ignorant of the lies I tell him.”

“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

R
ETURNING
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?”

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