A Code of the Heart (The Code Breakers Series Book 3) (11 page)

Lady Gwyneth startled. “Really, were you unhappy with Madame de Puis’ work?”

“I’ve always found her work outstanding.” Amelia leaned forward as if ready to defend.

“A bad fit or bad design?” Lady Gwyneth persisted.

“No, her gowns are wonderfully constructed. She lent the newly arrived fashion dolls to someone before me. I always am the first to see her dolls. She won’t tell me who the customer was, but I’m sure Emily Billingsworth got in ahead of me for spite—all because of one remark about a reducing diet.”

“How tiresome,” Lady Gwyneth fanned her face with her hand in a very affected, most unusual way for the exuberant young woman. He had never spent time taking tea with ladies and was surprised by all their nuanced behavior. Teatime could be a training ground for spies, especially where women of society were involved.

“Have you seen the newest dolls?” Amelia asked intensely.

“Amelia is a wonderful designer, and it would be quite lovely if she could see the dolls,” Lady Gwyneth chirped. “Have you received them yet?”

Amelia choked on her tea, coughing violently while covering her lips with her napkin.

“May I be of assistance, Miss Amelia?” He leaned over and touched her, his enormous hand spanned her entire back. The scent of honeysuckle wafted into his nostrils, driving his need to touch her, to breathe in her scent as he had on Christmas Eve.

She delicately patted her lips with her napkin. Her pale purple eyes were teary from the coughing spasm.

He wanted to pull her onto his lap and hold her. Seeing her in his aunt’s sitting room, he wanted to belong to society only so he could be the only one next to her in any sitting room.

“Are you all right, Miss Amelia?” His aunt asked.

“Thank you, Lady Stamford. I’m fine.”

His aunt caught his eye and winked at him. With their years of affection, she was sure to read all his feelings.

“Miss Amelia, now that you’ve recovered, would you like to see the dolls? Perhaps they will inspire your designs for my wedding ball.” Lady Gwyneth stared at Amelia.

Brinsley leaned back in the narrow chair. He wanted to slap his knee in enjoyment. All the mystery was about fashion dolls. His aunt got first dibs on the dolls so Amelia and Lady Gwyneth wanted to see them. Such subterfuge around fashion wasn’t worthy of these two. They both had handled themselves remarkably well during a harrowing experience at Edworth’s party.

“I think this is my cue to leave.” He stood. “Fashion dolls are not my forte.”

“We didn’t mean to run you off with our talk of fashion.” Lady Gwyneth teased.

Amelia looked up at him as he stood. Her eyes and face were enigmatic and clouded with emotions impossible to read. She sat straighter in her chair. “I do remember you remarking that you found the pursuit of fashion loathsome.”

What? Amelia remembered his cutting remarks from their first meeting. He had tried to be offensive, resisting the powerful pull she had on him even then. He liked that she was an artist, and obviously shared her talents with her friends.

“I do apologize, Miss Amelia, for any offensive comments I’ve made. I’m very ignorant of fashion.” He looked at her, hoping to communicate that he found nothing lacking in her.

Whatever she saw in his eyes, made her retreat behind her long golden lashes. He watched her rounded breasts move in rapid breaths.

His aunt pulled the bell cord. Hotchkiss arrived so quickly that he must have been listening outside the door.

“Hotchkiss, have the fashion dolls arrived from Madame de Puis?”

“Yes, my lady. They just arrived.”

“Please bring them to me.”

Hotchkiss bowed his bald head and silently closed the door.

“Derrick, I’ll expect you to escort me to Lady Gwyneth’s ball. I’ll host a dinner party with the newest marriageable debutantes and their mamas. Nothing gets acceptance into the ton, like an unwed, gentleman of means, even those with reputations.”

Now, what was his aunt playing at? She was no fool. She had easily deduced how he felt about Amelia.

His aunt’s lips were curved in a smug line as if she were Vice-Admiral Nelson and had outmaneuvered the French Navy. “Help me up. I shall walk you out.”

What? His aunt never walked her guests out. It was unheard of and shocking. She must have something private to discuss. He hoped it wasn’t about his obvious feelings for Amelia.

“Of course, aunt.” He couldn’t retreat now that he had engaged his aunt on a mission.

Lady Gwyneth sat up. “Lady Stamford, I’m afraid we’re intruding. If you’d prefer for Miss Amelia and I to leave so you’re able to finish your conversation with your nephew, we can come back another day.”

“I’ll only be a minute, and I look forward to discussing the newest fashion with our most revered fashion arbitrator, Miss Amelia.”

His aunt respected Amelia’s fashion taste. This was all new to Brinsley. Amelia was turning the pinkest of colors. He wanted to see that flush for another reason that he shouldn’t be fantasizing about in his aunt’s drawing room, but he couldn’t stop when Amelia was so close.

Hotchkiss returned with the dolls.

“Please, Hotchkiss, give them to Miss Amelia.”

“Thank you, Lady Stamford.”

“But you must promise that you’ll save all your conversation about the dresses until I get back.”

“Of course, Lady Stamford.” Amelia reassured, but something wasn’t right about this business with the dolls. Amelia held the dolls nervously, not like someone who was anticipating the revelation of the latest fashion.

He bowed to the ladies. “Good day, Lady Gwyneth and Miss Amelia.”

He walked to the settee to offer his arm to his aunt and they moved toward the door.

Once outside of the room, his aunt reached up and pinched his cheek as if he were a youngster. “Nice work, my boy.”

“Whatever do you mean, Aunt Mabel?”

“Fiddlesticks, don’t go all male on me. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She took his arm and moved toward the front door. “Those dark, brooding looks at Miss Amelia Bonnington. How fabulous. And her blushes…oh, my.” She fanned her face vigorously with her thick hand. “Makes me want to swoon.”

He had never in his life seen his aunt so worked up. His discomfort grew. His aunt was just like Edward Harcourt’s dog. Once she had a stick between her teeth, she wouldn’t desist from her fearsome meddling.

“Aunt Mabel…” He tried to interrupt her in his most stern voice.

She squeezed his arm affectionately. “I knew when the time came you’d make the right choice. Miss Amelia Bonnington is perfect. She is an amiable, well-respected young woman who is sensible.”

“Aunt Mabel, the lady has been very clear…”

“You’re the perfect match for her. Her father and brothers are all formidable men and Miss Amelia handles them all. You won’t be able to intimidate her with your giant size and dark looks.” His aunt clucked.

“Aunt Mabel, Miss Amelia isn’t available.” He wasn’t sure how much to tell his aunt, but he didn’t want her to harass Amelia. “She’s interested in another gentleman.”

“Everyone in society knows she and Kendal have been intended for each other since childhood. And I’ve always known that Kendal isn’t the man for her. Trust me, if the lady were really interested in Kendal, he’d be a married man. Miss Amelia has had many suitors and she’s used Kendal to keep them away. Kendal is young and impetuous and is in no way ready to settle down.”

Hotchkiss stood, holding Brinsley’s greatcoat. “Your coat, sir.”

“Thank you, Hotchkiss.” He put his arms into his coat as his aunt waited.

“Hotchkiss, go and see if the tray is ready for the ladies, please.”

As Hotchkiss tottered down the hallway, his aunt whispered to him. “No need for Hotchkiss to know of my plans.”

“What plans?”

“Keep up, Derrick. My dinner party. I plan to dangle a bit of competition in front of Miss Amelia’s nose.”

“But aunt, no families will allow their daughters near me.”

“You’d be surprised how a rich, titled gentleman with plans for marriage can change popular opinion, and I plan to collect on a few favors. Expect to be a very sought-after gentleman at the ball. It will make Miss Amelia sit up and pay attention.”

“But Aunt Mabel, I don’t want Miss Amelia to…”

“Derrick, you do want Miss Amelia; that was as plain as the bruise on your face.” She touched his cheek.

Chapter Twelve

Amelia immediately stood when Hotchkiss departed. She couldn’t draw air into her lungs and her hands trembled as she unwrapped the dolls. They were the same dolls, in the same incredibly beautiful garments. Nothing had been altered since she had seen them in the shop. She shook them close to her ear in an effort to hear them rattle. “I don’t hear anything.”

Gwyneth leaned close. “Are the diamonds gone?”

Amelia handed the doll with the wedding veil to Gwyneth. “You take this one’s head off. I’ll do the other. Quickly. We don’t have much time.”

Gwyneth took the doll and shook it. “Definitely lighter.”

Gwyneth sat in the chair Lord Brinsley had vacated. “Can you believe Lady Stamford is Brinsley’s aunt? I never made the connection because Brinsley hasn’t been in society since I made my début.”

Amelia didn’t want to think of Lord Brinsley and the way his mere presence could make her stomach flip-flop and her skin skitter in awareness. She sat down and placed the doll on her lap to prevent the diamonds from falling on the floor. She twisted loose the head of the doll in the pale yellow dress. She felt guilty that she might damage such incredible perfection. “The diamonds are gone,” she said breathlessly.

Gwyneth deftly turned the head of the bride doll. “Nothing in this one either. Who is our thief?”

Amelia couldn’t stop her heart from racing as if she had just been running between wickets in a cricket game. “We can discuss this once we leave here. Put the head back on and get back in your chair. I think I hear someone.”

Gwyneth giggled. “If Lady Stamford comes back, we can pretend the heads fell off.”

Amelia tried to sound her sternest, but Gwyneth always made light of any situation. She reminded Amelia of Parker, her middle brother, who always was ready for adventure. “Stop laughing. Put your doll’s head back on, now.”

“You’re worried now that you know Lady Stamford is related to Brinsley.”

“Of all the most ridiculous ideas. Why would I care about Lord Brinsley’s relatives?”

Gwyneth rolled her dark eyes.

Amelia whispered. “Lady Stamford can’t be involved. She wouldn’t have left us alone with the dolls if she knew there were diamonds.”

Gwyneth whispered back, “And I can’t imagine the guilty one is Hotchkiss. He’s been in service with Lady Stamford since I first came here with my Aunt Euphemia as a little girl.”

“That only leaves one person,” Amelia said.

They said the name simultaneously. “Elodie.”

Amelia shook her head in disbelief and stared at Gwyneth. “It must be Elodie. She’s the only one besides us who has touched the dolls.”

“We’ve got to figure out who is behind the smuggling and why.”

“But with the diamonds gone, how are we going to prove there were diamonds?” Amelia stared at the doll as if it contained the answer to their problem. “We can wait for another shipment of dolls.”

“But it could be months before Helene receives another shipment with the British blockade in the English Channel.”

“We need to tell Cord and Ash about the diamonds. If the diamonds are being used by French spies, they must be informed,” Amelia said.

“We could, but then Helene will come under suspicion. And then Ash wouldn’t allow me to remain involved.”

Amelia felt torn about the next action. She understood Gwyneth’s frustration that Ash didn’t acknowledge her ability, especially after she had saved his life. But Amelia needed to be sensible and decide what was best for both of her friends.

“Do you know anything of Elodie?” Gwyneth scrutinized Amelia’s face, trying to read her intentions.

“No. She’s been present in the shop for several months, but I only interact with Helene. She is the newest of Helene’s helpers. She seems so young to be involved in clandestine activities.

“We need to find out more about her. Where she lives. When she came to England.”

“I don’t know. I suppose I could ask Helene.”

“We should follow Elodie from work to see where she goes, whom she meets.”

Following Elodie sounded dangerous. Amelia needed to be the voice of reason. Gwyneth was impetuous and intent on proving her worth. After years of trying to prove herself to her brothers, Amelia understood. “I think we should report what we’ve uncovered to Ash and let him decide to pursue Elodie. I don’t think we should get involved any farther.”

Gwyneth pleaded with her dark brown eyes. “If you’d rather not go on, I can do this alone. I can ask Helene questions about Elodie. And Jenkins and I can follow Elodie when she leaves work. And once I’ve discovered her cohorts, I’ll tell Ash.”

This felt exactly like being involved in one of Parker’s schemes. She never could say no to him. With Gwyneth’s dark, pleading eyes, it appeared that she was unable to deny Gwyneth too. She certainly couldn’t allow her to go alone.

Amelia raised her hands in the air for attention. “I will ask Helene about Elodie, then we’ll decide whether we should follow her.”

Gwyneth’s lips curved into a knowing smirk. “You know we have to follow her. No matter what Helene tells you.”

Amelia’s mind spun. How could dress designing become so complicated?

Chapter Thirteen

Early the next morning, Amelia entered the modiste shop on her mission. Her plan was to question Helene about Elodie. She would’ve preferred to question the girl directly, but conversing with an unknown serving girl would raise too many suspicions.

Amelia was exhausted from another restless night. She wasn’t sure if she was capable of deception when so tired. Struggling with the dilemma of whether to betray Gwyneth’s trust and report the diamonds to Cord, as well as her inexplicable attraction to Lord Brinsley, had left her turning and twisting throughout the night. She didn’t feel herself at all—nothing was familiar or constant in her world.