The Diamond of Drury Lane (26 page)

I was woken the next morning by hushed voices at the door to the chamber.

‘No, Mary, I really do not require your assistance to dress this morning, but I would like you to prepare a bath for me next door.’

The door clicked to and a bare foot appeared around the corner of the screen.

‘I am sorry to have woken you, Cat. I had to send her away or she would have discovered you. Did you sleep well?’

I nodded, noticing for the first time that my cheek was cushioned on a feather pillow. I sat up and stretched.

‘I thought you had gone when I came back,’ laughed Lady Elizabeth. ‘You did give me a fright.’

‘Johnny and Pedro . . . are they safe?’ I asked anxiously, throwing off my blanket.

‘Yes, quite safe. Pedro went back to his master’s house once Johnny was smuggled into Francis’s room. He wanted to find out how it all ended at the theatre last night. He said he’d come back and tell us this morning.’

That was good. There would be uproar when Caleb was discovered and Johnny and I were found to be gone. I hoped the old man was all right but I dreaded to think what construction would be put on the whole affair. Would they be worried for me or blame me? Probably the latter if Mrs Reid had anything to do with it.

‘I did wonder if you would like a bath,’ Lady
Elizabeth asked delicately. ‘I’ve arranged for one to be put in the dressing room next door and will propose that Lord Jonathan take a dip, but I thought I’d give you first refusal.’

A bath? What a luxury! I could not remember the last time I had had one, as normally I had to make do with a basin of hot water once a day.

‘That would be wonderful.’

‘Good. Then would you be so kind as to help me into my clothes and I will go and tell Francis what I’ve planned.’

Dressing a lady was a far more complicated affair than I had imagined. I did my job as lady’s maid very inexpertly, buttoning garments and lacing stays. Not surprisingly, Lady Elizabeth would not let me near her hair but dressed it herself in the mirror. She took a final look, straightening her rumpled skirt.

‘That’ll have to do. When you’re ready, go through there.’ She pointed to a door in the corner of the room. ‘The bath should be waiting for you. I’ll make sure Mary is out of the way, but remember to lock yourself in.’

I gave her a few minutes to fulfil her promise about the maid then quietly opened the door into the dressing room. The window was veiled with a curtain, filtering the morning light. In the centre of the wooden floor stood the very same bath I had seen down in the scullery only a few days ago. It was now filled to the brim with steaming water. A pile of linen towels stood waiting on an ebony rack. To me, so unused to such an excess of comforts, it was like stepping into the heart of a temple dedicated to cleanliness, the steam rising like incense to the gods of soap and water. I locked both doors as instructed and stripped to my skin. I knew it was immodest of me to take a bath without keeping on my shift but I had only one and besides, who was there to note my behaviour? Then the wonderful moment of truth came: I stepped in and submerged myself completely under the water.

I allowed myself some fifteen minutes of indulgence and then towelled off quickly. The bath water looked far less enticing now it was filled with soap bubbles, but Johnny would just have to put up with it. As a lord, I assumed he had the frequent
pleasure of taking a plunge so today it was just his hard luck that I got there first.

Lady Elizabeth was waiting for me when I came back into her bedroom wrapped in a large white towel, clutching my pitiful bundle of clothes.

‘I’ll go and tell Lord Jonathan he can go in now. I’ve put some clothes for you behind the screen,’ she informed me.

She had laid out a complete change of clothes: a bright white shift, petticoats, and the emerald green dress I had refused the night before. This morning my rejection of her bounty evaporated like mist under the newly risen sun, and to honour my scrubbed state, I succumbed to temptation, putting each garment on with due reverence. But the greatest wonder were the silk stockings: they slid up my legs so that I hardly knew they were there, so different from the scratchy woollen stockings I normally wore.

‘Shall I help you do up the back of your dress?’

Lady Elizabeth had returned.

‘Please.’ I emerged from behind the screen and
displayed my new finery for her approval, arms held wide.

‘I told you it would suit you,’ she said, guiding me to the dressing table. ‘As I have forced you to be my maid this morning, it is now my turn to do you the same service.’

I definitely got the better part of the bargain. Lady Elizabeth brushed and fastened up my damp hair to look like something out of a fashion plate. I had never seen myself so smart. I looked almost like a highborn lady.

‘Now I will need your help with Lord Jonathan,’ she said, giving my curls a final tweak. ‘He will be here in a moment.’

‘Help? What kind of help?’ My play time was over and I was businesslike once more, remembering we were far from safe.

‘With the disguise.’ Lady Elizabeth moved to the closet on the far side of the room and pulled out a pile of clothes she had prepared. ‘Frank has secured a berth for Lord Jonathan on a ship leaving for America. It will sail as soon as the wind is favourable. He’s arranging to bring round the
carriage so that we can take Lord Jonathan to the docks this morning. He can hide on board until the packet sails. All that remains is to ensure that he is not recognised on the way there.’

She threw the clothes on to the bed. I could now see that they consisted of a large red velvet gown, stays, a shift and other items of female apparel. A black wig crouched amongst them like a cat curled up before the fire.

‘You’re going to dress him as a woman?’ I asked, wondering if I was allowed to giggle.

‘Of course,’ she said with a smile. ‘What better disguise could there be? I did promise to dress him so that even his own mother would not recognise him. Though my mother might, for it is one of her gowns I’ve borrowed.’

‘Does Johnny know yet?’

She shook her head.

At that moment, there was a tap on the dressing room door.

‘Come!’ said Lady Elizabeth.

Johnny stepped into the room wrapped in a dressing gown, admittedly looking far better than
he had last night but nothing surely could disguise that puffy black eye and cut lip?

‘What are you smiling at?’ he asked, looking from one of us to the other.

‘Nothing,’ Lady Elizabeth said brightly. ‘Now, go behind the screen and put on the things I give you.’

Obediently, he did as he was bidden. I had never heard Johnny swear before a lady but that changed when the shift was handed over the top of the screen.

‘Dammit, what’s all this?’ he spluttered in outrage.

‘Your disguise,’ said Lady Elizabeth calmly. ‘Now stop making a fuss and get yourself dressed.’

‘I can’t wear this!’ he exclaimed, jiggling the stays over the top of the screen. ‘It’s bad enough that I’ve been beaten black and blue around my ribs without squeezing into this infernal contraption.’

‘Stop complaining,’ she told him in a firm, no-nonsense voice. ‘Half the population wear them all the time: I’m only asking you to put it on for a few hours.’

The grumbles ceased and Johnny finally
emerged wearing the dress. In my opinion, the disguise was not convincing: he looked like a man in a gown. Anyone would see at a glance that he was an impostor.

Lady Elizabeth, however, was not down-hearted. She hadn’t finished with him yet.

‘Sit by the glass here,’ she ordered.

Johnny shuffled over, tripping on his skirts.

‘Pull the strings tighter, Cat,’ she said, gesturing to the laces dangling from the back of his dress. ‘Then do up the buttons.’

As instructed I began to pull.

‘Wait a moment,’ she said. Diving into a drawer in the tallboy by the screen she pulled out a pair of woollen stockings.

‘I think you can guess where to put these,’ she said, blushing scarlet as she handed them to Johnny. With a few furtive gropes down the front of his dress, he suddenly began to take on a much more womanly form.

‘Ow!’ Johnny cried as I resumed pulling on the strings. ‘I don’t know how you ladies stand for all this.’

‘Neither do I,’ agreed Lady Elizabeth, now approaching his face with a large powder puff. ‘Pure madness.’

As I buttoned Johnny’s dress up at the back, Lady Elizabeth placed the wig on his head, adorning it with a lace cap and bonnet.

‘There!’ She stepped back, hands on hips.

The transformation was uncanny. Gone was handsome Johnny; in his place was an ugly matron with her face plastered in white powder.

‘As long as he doesn’t move or speak, we might get away with this,’ I mused.

‘I’ll ring for some breakfast,’ said Lady Elizabeth enthusiastically. ‘We’ll try it out on one of the servants. I’ll tell them you are my dressmaker come for a fitting.’

In response to the summons, a maid appeared at the door.

‘Jenny, is Papa in the breakfast room?’

Jenny nodded.

‘Can you tell him that I can’t come down as the dressmaker has arrived. I’ll take my breakfast up here.’

Jenny’s eyes slid to Johnny, who was busying himself with a sewing bag Lady Elizabeth had thrust in his hands a moment before. Lady Elizabeth took her to the door and said in an undertone, ‘I would be most obliged if you would not stare at the lady’s eye, Jenny. Her husband is a nasty piece of work . . . he beats her. She has been in floods of tears this morning telling me about it.’

Jenny’s face now registered pity for the unfortunate seamstress.

‘Of course, your ladyship.’

‘In fact, would you bring up some tea for us all . . . to help settle her nerves?’

Jenny bobbed a curtsey and left.

‘What do you think?’ asked Johnny anxiously. It was most unnerving to hear his deep voice issuing from the bonnet. ‘Was she fooled?’

‘I think so,’ said Lady Elizabeth, taking a seat by the window. ‘Women are always the hardest to deceive, but if she had thought you were a man, she would have run from the room screaming.’

* * *

After breakfast, Lord Francis came to announce the arrival of the carriage. He could not resist smirking at Johnny and was cuffed by the seamstress for his rudeness.

‘Sorry, ma’am,’ he said, giving Johnny a deep bow. ‘I won’t do it again.’

‘And I won’t give you the opportunity again,’ growled Johnny, picking up his skirts and following Lady Elizabeth down the corridor with a sturdy stride.

‘We had better be quick!’ warned Lord Francis. ‘Papa was still reading the newspaper when I left the table, but he could be out at any moment.’

We descended to the foyer without incident and were almost at the front entrance when a door to our left opened and the Duke of Avon strode out, newspaper tucked under his arm. ‘
CAPTAIN SPARKLER STILL AT LARGE
!’ read the headline.

‘Morning, Lizzie!’ he said, kissing his daughter on the cheek. ‘Off out so early?’

‘Yes, Papa. I have to return some calls. Frightful bore, but there you are.’

The duke’s eyes turned to Johnny.

‘Ah, this is my seamstress, Papa,’ she filled in quickly.

‘Not the one that keeps sending in such scandalously high bills, I hope? Madame what’s-her-name?’

‘Madame Martine,’ said Lady Elizabeth as the duke gave the seamstress a hard stare.

‘Is she good?’ he asked turning back to his daughter.

‘The best.’

‘Well, in that case, I suppose she’s worth the money. Enchanté, madame,’ he said gallantly, bowing and kissing Johnny’s gloved hand.

‘Merci, monsieur,’ said ‘Madame Martine’ in flawless, if somewhat gruff, French.

The duke now looked at me.

‘Miss Royal, isn’t it? What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were in the house.’

‘Cat . . . I mean Miss Royal . . . came early on my request. We are paying calls together. All my friends want to meet her,’ said Lady Elizabeth.

The duke now took in my new finery and a small
frown appeared on his brow. My cheeks reddened.

‘Hmm,’ he said disapprovingly. ‘I’d like to have a word with you when you return, Lizzie. There’s something we must discuss.’

The duke dismissed us with a nod and retreated into the breakfast room. I could guess what he wanted to talk to his daughter about: he was going to warn her against introducing girls like me into her intimate circle. I had a very dubious position in society and my company would do nothing to enhance her reputation.

Lady Elizabeth led the way down the steps to the carriage. Hanging on the back, next to the stable boy Jenkins, was Pedro. He jumped down and opened the door for us. Lord Francis handed each of us in and climbed in last.

The coachman had already raised his whip to lick the horses into a trot when there was a respectful cough at the streetside door.

‘Your lordship, might I have a word?’

All of us turned to look at the speaker. I saw to my horror that it was Constable Lennox, the Bow Street runner who had called in at Drury Lane
yesterday. He was now standing by the side of the carriage watching us closely. I lowered my head to hunt for something in my reticule. Johnny put a handkerchief to his eye as if wiping away a tear.

‘Yes, constable?’ said Lord Francis in a surprisingly crisp tone. I had never heard him sound so lordly before. ‘Call back later and I will see you then. I have an engagement this morning that I must not break.’

‘I understand, sir, but I wonder if I might be so bold as to have a look at your carriage? I received a report from one of our informants that two fugitives fled to your house last night in the company of a third person. That person was followed back here this morning. I’ve already searched the stables but found nothing. That leaves me to conclude that they might be secreted somewhere in this carriage.’

‘Are you serious, sir?’ said Lady Elizabeth, sounding suitably concerned. ‘How terrible! Lady Catherine, can you imagine it?’ She turned to me, her eyes wide. Though surprised to find myself so rapidly ennobled, I gave a shudder by way of
agreement. ‘Of course you must look, constable. Shall we alight so that you can examine the carriage thoroughly? Countess, would you mind?’ This latter remark was directed to Johnny, who was now applying smelling salts to his nose as if overcome by fright.