The Counterfeit Lady (20 page)

“Tonight perhaps we shall discover all.”

“Good luck.”

He left me on the far side of the dance floor and headed for the card room. Blackford waltzed with Lady Harwin. The baron waltzed with Lady Bennett. Sir Henry waltzed with Lady Peters. I circled the room until I bumped into Mr. Nobles. “Everything quiet?” I asked.

“Sir William is taking a turn in the garden. I’m minding the store in here.”

Sweeping the room with my eyes, I said, “With a lot of goods on the shelves.”

“Half a dozen peers, a few baronets, a churchman or two, plus their ladies, younger sons with the courtesy title of ‘lord,’ a few debutantes, and guests at neighboring houses.”

“Quite a lot of goods in this store you’re minding,” I amended.

“Would you care to dance? We can watch them from the dance floor as well as here.”

“Thank you.”

Frederick Nobles escorted me into the center of the room and led me in a sweeping waltz, his hand placed correctly on the small of my back above my waist. He was light on his feet, and I was hard-pressed to keep up. I struggled so much that I nearly missed Baron von Steubfeld and Lady Bennett leave the floor and make their way to the French doors leading to the terrace.

“It’s hot in here. Would you like to step outside and get some air?” I asked.

“What?” He glanced around to where I stared at the French doors. “Oh. Yes, I would.”

We cut a tangled path through the dancers. Von Steubfeld and Lark Bennett had been outside for a minute or two by the time we reached the doors. Long enough to have lost us in the dark.

When Nobles opened the door, I discovered I needn’t have worried. Past the light of torches hung from poles around the terrace, I could see two figures strolling in the garden away from the house parallel to the baron and Lady Bennett. A familiar pale blue dress reflected the moonlight. It was Emma, walking with Sir William.

Suddenly, branches snapped and bushes shook at the end of the garden beyond where the baron and Lady Bennett stood. Two men fell to the ground. “Gracious,” I exclaimed as Mr. Nobles moved forward, saying, “Everyone all right?”

“Burglar,” Fogarty said as he struggled to stand on his injured leg. He made a grab for his leaner, more agile adversary.

The second man moved into bright moonlight in the clearing for an instant, and I found myself looking at Mick Snelling. Before I could glimpse whether he was carrying a package the size of the ship plans, he bolted into the darkness and escaped.

Fogarty chased after him, leaving his bowler hat on the path. Lady Bennett looked over her skirt with an expression that said she was furious. Either she’d been splattered by mud or she didn’t like Snelling taking chances on being caught. Mr. Nobles walked over and picked up the hat. “I say, we’ve had a bit of excitement.”

His wide-eyed enthusiasm was so at odds with his usual demeanor I nearly laughed. Baron von Steubfeld, who’d been closest to the action in the bushes, looked at Nobles and in a tone that said the incident had nothing to do with him, asked, “Do you often have burglars at house parties?”

“They go where the pickings are the best,” Nobles answered and strolled back toward the house.

Since I hadn’t been spotted by the baron or Lady Bennett, I slipped back into the ballroom. The dance had ended, and the orchestra was readying for the next number. “What happened?” a warm baritone murmured in my ear.

“Your Grace. Mick Snelling was discovered by Fogarty in the bushes near the baron and Lady Bennett. There was a scuffle and Snelling escaped with Fogarty chasing him. The baron didn’t seem surprised by any of this. Lady Bennett appeared annoyed.” I looked up at Blackford, wondering if he’d come looking for me or if he was checking on the action in the garden.

The music began. “Georgina. Would you do me the honor?”

He led me out onto the dance floor and held me in an intimately tight embrace. While Mr. Nobles was a fine dancer and Lord Porthollow an energetic one, the duke held me so I couldn’t fail to match him step for step. We gracefully moved as one across the shiny hardwood. My dreams of dancing with the duke had never been this smooth. This polished. This wonderful.

I smiled up at him and let him lead me where he wanted. He noticed my smile and squeezed my hand, whispering in my ear, “Was this worth waiting for?”

“Yes.” I sighed. The feel of his breath on my skin was enchanting. I memorized the swirl of brightly colored dresses in time to the music. The one errant curl brushing his collar. The smell of his soap.

We twirled around the room once, twice, and then I made the mistake of looking toward the entrance to the room. There in the archway, standing with two other evening-dress-clad men, was my parents’ killer.

“There he is,” I whispered into the duke’s ear.

“Who? Snelling?”

“No. My parents’ killer. Come on.” I pulled Blackford off the dance floor toward the doorway. By the time we reached it, the three men had vanished.

I stood in the hallway, looking in all directions. The duke said, “This way. Front entrance,” and hurried me along. My dancing slippers slid from rug to rug on the smooth floor as I tried to keep up.

When we turned the corner, we saw the butler closing the front door. “Who just left?” the duke demanded.

“Sir Wallace Vance and two of his guests.”

While Blackford spoke to the butler, I dashed around them and pulled open the door. A carriage was in motion, wheels grinding and horseshoes clomping on the gravel drive. All I could see was the back of a large, dark-colored coach.

“His guests’ names?”

If the butler found my behavior and the duke’s question strange, he didn’t hesitate or blink. “A Mr. van der Lik and Count Farkas.”

“I didn’t see them at the ball. Were they in the card room?”

The butler remained stoic. “I couldn’t say, Your Grace.”

Blackford took my hand. “We’ll call on Mr. Vance tomorrow.”

I sounded slightly breathless as I tried to pull him toward the door. “He might have left by then.”

It would have been easier to move a mountain than the duke. “No, he won’t. We’ll meet him tomorrow. Come on, Georgina. We have more important business tonight.”

Unfortunately, tonight was our best chance for catching my parents’ killer as well as retrieving the stolen designs for the new warship. I’d vowed to find the ship blueprints and prove Gattenger innocent. That was the reason I was there. And I’d promised Phyllida I’d succeed in this investigation.

I’d have to ignore the man I’d vowed to catch a dozen years before. But only until the next day. Then I’d have the duke’s assistance to confront Sir Wallace and his murderous guest. “All right, Your Grace. Lead on.”

He took my arm and led me along the corridor. As soon as we were out of sight of the butler, Mr. Nobles stepped out of a doorway. “Snelling got away and took the drawings with him.”

“Where is he now?” Blackford demanded.

“We don’t know. There are Archivist Society people searching the town, but they’ve had no luck so far.”

“He’ll come back here,” I said with certainty. “He wants to get his money and be free of those drawings. They’ve been nothing but trouble for him.”

“I was surprised he didn’t follow your suggestion to his sister and take the drawings to Stevens to get a second set made and get twice the money,” the duke said.

“Stevens?” Mr. Nobles asked, his eyes narrowing.

“My butler. Mrs. Monthalf talked to his sister and suggested a plan for Snelling to double his money. It also would have meant we’d have the original plans and be able to pass on slightly altered, and useless, drawings in their place. He was spotted by one of my footmen loitering across the street, but after half an hour, he left and didn’t return.”

“A pity. It would have saved us all this effort,” I grumbled. It would also have allowed us to chase after the man I sought tonight.

The duke must have read my mind, because he answered, “Then we wouldn’t have needed to travel to the country at all and you wouldn’t have seen your quarry.”

“Who?” Nobles asked.

“A separate inquiry,” I answered.

“Shall we try to dance an entire waltz?” the duke asked, taking my arm and ignoring Mr. Nobles.

“I’d love to.” If Snelling returned now and destroyed my opportunity, I’d throttle him.

T
HE
ball was lovely, fortunately lacking the reappearance of Snelling and the ship designs he’d stolen from Gattenger. Baron von Steubfeld danced with Lady Harwin, Lady Bennett, and an elderly dowager. Sir Henry danced with Lady Peters and then escorted her onto the terrace.

After our waltz, Blackford deserted me for the very eligible Miss Amanda Weycross, daughter of a lord and guest of the Teweses’ daughter, followed by the equally eligible Lady Anne Stewart, daughter of the Scottish earl and his wife. I was asked once to dance by our host and then once by Mr. Nobles. Otherwise, I was on my own.

I walked over to join Lady Peters and Baron von Steubfeld in conversation. “The duke has chosen another partner?” the baron asked as I neared them.

“He can’t dance every dance with me. It’s not done,” I told him. “And why aren’t you dancing with Lady Bennett?”

“She was claimed by the Viscount Gathwite, and Sir Henry decided to take a solo journey around the gardens, abandoning Lady Peters.”

Sir Henry, who’d worried Ken Gattenger into taking the drawings home that fateful evening to restudy his calculations, therefore making them available to Mick Snelling. I had the sudden terrible feeling I’d misjudged Stanford and his connection to the thief.

The only thing I could think to say was, “Oh, dear. There were ruffians out there earlier. I hope they haven’t returned. It might not be safe to be out there alone.”

As an excuse, it was pretty weak, but I hurried toward the French doors leading to the terrace, aware of Lady Peters following me. Once outside, I looked around, hoping my eyes would quickly adjust to the torchlight and moonlight. I noticed the baron didn’t join us.

Lady Peters stood next to me. “Do you really think he might be in danger? I’d hate for anything to happen to him, even as angry as I am at him at this moment.”

Sir William and Emma walked up to us. “It’s lovely outside,” Emma said.

“Yes, it is. You haven’t seen Sir Henry Stanford, have you?” I asked.

“We’re afraid he might have run into difficulties,” Lady Peters added.

“How terrible. We’ve not seen him, but we’ll help you look. Shall we go this way?” Sir William said.

“Thank you. That would be helpful,” I said and nodded to him.

He escorted Emma away, and I headed in the opposite direction, afraid of what I’d find. I suspected Sir Henry, but I didn’t want to. If I caught him with Snelling, I’d raise an unholy ruckus out of disappointment and anger.

I rushed down one path and then another, Lady Peters trailing me. Reaching a dark bend in the path behind large shrubbery, I nearly tripped over a figure lying facedown. I turned him over, hearing Rosamond Peters gasp as we saw Sir Henry’s face by moonlight.

“Is he—still alive?”

I felt for a pulse. “Yes. Run back to the house and tell our host to send some footmen to carry him inside.”

“Do you think it’s his heart?”

“No. I think it’s the nasty blow to the back of his head that’s felled him. Rosamond, please hurry.”

She dashed away. I wished I had a lantern to show me the area around us. I’d like a clue to tell me who had attacked Sir Henry. Footprints, a shirt stud, anything to point to his attacker.

Thank goodness the first footmen Rosamond Peters brought carried a lantern. In the flickering light, his bloody head wound was visible. So were the scuffed footprints around him. Despite the dampness retained in the soil, the only firm marks matched the worn heels of Sir Henry’s shoes. A rock tossed into a nearby flower bed had what appeared to be blood on one side.

Clues, yes, but leading where? His attacker could have come from the ballroom or from outside of the estate. I rose from where I’d bent over Sir Henry, checking on his condition and searching for clues, and let the footmen carry the wounded man indoors.

“Oh, Mrs. Monthalf, your dress is ruined.”

At Lady Peters’s words I looked down and discovered my dress had dirt spread a few inches up from the hem. Then I glanced at hers. “Yours is, too.”

“I’ll gladly lose a ball gown if Sir Henry recovers.”

I nodded in agreement, then jumped as Lord Porthollow stepped into my path. “How is Sir Henry?”

“Unconscious. Did you see what happened?”

“No. I came outside to see what all the excitement was about. I was hoping you could tell me.” He smiled, making deep creases in his leathery skin.

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything to tell.” I followed Lady Peters into the house by the side door where they’d taken Sir Henry. Muddy footprints lined one side of the carpet, as if a man carrying Sir Henry on that side had stepped in wet dirt. Then Lady Peters walked along the middle and left equally muddy marks. I checked, and my own slippers were not nearly as soiled as hers. What had she stepped in?

I put out a hand and stopped Rosamond. “When did Sir Henry go out into the garden alone?”

“It was such a nice night that we decided to talk outside. I told him I was angry with him for stealing that letter, and he blamed everything on you. We headed back toward the terrace, no longer friends. Suddenly, Sir Henry stopped and told me to go in. He’d follow me in a few minutes. When I suggested I could stay outside if I wanted, he shooed me indoors. I don’t know if he saw something odd or planned to meet someone.” She gave an indifferent shrug.

“Fortunately, you went in. Otherwise you both might have been attacked.”

“Or unfortunately. I might have screamed and frightened off the attacker.” She looked up the stairs where they had carried Sir Henry to his bedroom. “I suppose they’ve called a doctor, and we would just be in the way.”

She turned and walked into the ballroom. I followed, hoping the duke had finished dancing with the lovely young aristocrats.

He had. “They’re about to play the last waltz before we go into the supper room. Dance with me.”

He escorted me onto the dance floor, and once again his masterful hold on me negated my waltzing inadequacies. “What happened?” he whispered in my ear.

This was to be a working dance.

“Sir Henry was attacked. He’s still alive.”

“Why Stanford?”

“If I knew who, I could tell you why. The plans were not in evidence.” How I wished they had been.

“You think Stanford, and not the baron, was to retrieve the drawings from Snelling?”

“Possibly. He did convince Gattenger to take a set home to work on them the night Snelling broke in.” And everything he told me could have been a lie.

“The attack on Stanford could be a screen for handing off the plans to someone else,” Blackford said.

“Or Sir Henry saw something and had to be stopped from raising the alarm. I met Sir Jonah Denby here. He says he’s really Lord Porthollow, interested in whether Sir Henry stole the blueprints, because if so, Sir Henry would be eliminated from the bidding and then he, Lord Porthollow, would win. He was outside when Sir Henry was carried in.”

“Blast. There are too many possibilities. Too many suspects. I’ve been watching von Steubfeld all night and he hasn’t gone far.” The duke swung me around with a flourish and we waltzed in the opposite direction.

I managed to keep my feet under me as I considered our next move. “Maybe he knows Snelling won’t be back until the supper is served. With everyone eating and drinking, he might think it’ll be easier for him to slip away. Particularly since he must know he’s under surveillance.”

The duke raised his eyebrows before pulling me closer and speaking directly into my ear. “We’ll just have to keep an eye on von Steubfeld during supper. Afterward, the guests from the other house parties will be leaving. Lots of activity by the front entrance, and no one near the terrace.”

I struggled to keep waltzing and think about the handoff of the ship blueprints, but the way Blackford’s breath brushed my skin was claiming all my attention. “Except us.”

“And Sir William, Mr. Nobles, Emma, the Archivists—”

Now I felt as useful as a horse pushing a cart from behind. “All right. Where should we be?”

His dark eyes were the color of a gloomy sky. “I don’t know.”

“Surely you must have some idea.” I thought the duke always had an idea. Whether it was a good one was another matter.

“None.”

“Then we must keep an eye on everyone, especially the baron, and go with our instincts.”

“That’s not logical.”

I forced myself to sound more positive than I felt. I knew how important rescuing those naval blueprints was to the duke. “Sometimes we have to throw logic out the window and observe what is happening right in front of us.”

The waltz ended and everyone moved toward the dining room. Including the baron.

We followed at the end of the laughing, colorful crowd like a sorrowful tail. I was frustrated at our lack of progress. I could only imagine what was going through the duke’s mind.

Now that the music had ended, partiers found they had much to say to each other and stayed clustered in the dining room. Perhaps knowledge of the attack on Sir Henry had spread, keeping them together. When carriages began to arrive, the guests left in groups. They laughed, called farewells, and made a joyous racket. But they clung together for safety, and I saw several look over their shoulders.

As the last group left, Lord Harwin gave his butler orders to lock all the doors and wait for the doctor and the policeman to arrive about Sir Henry. Then he led the guests upstairs. Only a few men lingered in the smoking parlor. Von Steubfeld was one. Blackford was another.

Lady Harwin stopped me in the upstairs hall and asked if I was all right after the shock of finding Sir Henry unconscious in the shrubbery. I couldn’t tell her I’d seen much worse, so I told her I hoped Sir Henry recovered quickly from his accident and walked off toward our rooms with Phyllida.

Emma was waiting when Phyllida and I entered my room. “Did you see Snelling?” I asked her.

“Only the once, early on. He’s not come back, and none of the valets or maids left the house. Fogarty and some of the other Archivists are patrolling the grounds, but there are too few of them. Do you think the burglar will return as soon as the house is quiet?”

“I would. Did you see what happened to Sir Henry?” I asked.

“I didn’t know anything had happened until Lady Peters ran past toward the house. Sir William and I walked in your direction, but by that time you had everything under control,” Emma said.

“When had you seen Sir Henry before we discovered him attacked?” I took off my necklace and set it in the jewelry box.

A moment later, the duke walked in without knocking. I gave him a quick glance as Emma replied, “Earlier, deep in conversation with Lady Peters.”

“Is that what they call it now?” Blackford asked.

I shot a look at him, and the edge of his mouth quirked up. He continued to stare at me, and I couldn’t look away. Something about the look in his eyes sent a tremor through my veins.

“Yes. They seemed to be arguing. Sir Henry walked away and Lady Peters gave a deep sigh and ran after him. I didn’t see any more,” Emma said. She and Phyllida stepped behind a painted cloth screen, and a moment later Emma’s ball gown was draped over the top.

Had Rosamond Peters caught up with Sir Henry? And what were they arguing about? Sir Henry’s letter or Lady Peters’s son?

“The doctor’s arrived. Sir Henry hasn’t regained consciousness, so the doctor is having him watched during the night. He has every hope Sir Henry will be with us in the morning,” the duke said.

“Will he know who hit him when he awakes?” I asked.

“Probably not. Not unusual in cases of head injury to have no memory of the attack,” Blackford told me.

“If Snelling comes back tonight to meet with Sir Henry, he’ll be walking around outside with the plans and no one to give them to,” I said. “Emma, are you in your lady’s maid costume?”

“Yes.” She came out from the screen transformed into a servant.

“Help Phyllida get ready for bed and then slip down to the servants’ entrance to see if anyone leaves that way. I’m going to hide behind the curtains and watch the rooms on this corridor.”

Emma and Phyllida left my room, but Blackford blocked my path. “I’ll watch the men’s wing from the alcove with the suit of armor. Come and get me if you see anyone leave.”

I looked up at him, my arms crossed. “Only if you promise to get me if anyone leaves from your wing.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t pass up the chance to sneak around in a dark garden with you.” He smiled too broadly, and I discovered I didn’t believe a word he said. Then he slipped his arms around my waist as his expression turned serious. “We’re finally alone.”

I smiled up at him, unsure what to expect. No matter what roles we were playing, he was still a duke.

He bent down, his eyes focused on my suddenly dry lips. I licked them in an effort to make them feel normal and watched his eyes darken. My insides twitched in response and my lips baked despite the cool evening air.

I slid my hands up the sleeves of his jacket, reveling in the softness. He shifted me against his chest and my hands snaked around his shoulders. Great heavens. Blackford was going to kiss me.