A Lady in Disguise (22 page)

“I don’t see what you can do, my boy,” Mr. Grenshaw replied, giving another tug to the belt of his dressing gown. “You must think of the future. Besides, once the emergency is over, no doubt the thief will return the jewels, or something just as good. I feel absolutely certain that is his intention.”

“What emergency?”

“Whatever it is that forced him into stealing in the first place,” Mr. Grenshaw said, smiling at his former son-in-law.

Smoothly, Mrs. Grenshaw added, “I don’t see why you are creating all this fuss about the neighbors, Claude. It’s perfectly clear to me who stole Lady Genevieve’s emeralds. Isn’t there someone not a hundred miles from here who was taken for poaching? It was very unwise of you, Thorpe, to leave him alone in the hall for so long.”

Lillian thought it strange that Mrs. Grenshaw should be casting aspersions on the so-called poacher. Surely she must be aware that he was in fact a lieutenant named Gilbert, beloved of her niece. If she was not aware of these facts, was it Lillian’s place to inform the Grenshaws of the truth? Remembering that she held Nora’s confidence and that Nora was afraid of her relations, Lillian decided to hold her tongue until she could talk to Thorpe without witnesses. Until then, she felt certain she could trust him not to follow blindly the path the Grenshaws had drawn.

Thorpe answered Mrs. Grenshaws complaints by saying, “He never was alone. Jack Price was with him, except when he came in search of me, and then the boy was watched over by one of the footmen.”

Mrs. Grenshaw gave a little laugh at such naiveté. “Come now, don’t tell me you pay your servants so much that they would never look at a bribe. Why, that poacher would only need five minutes to come up here, rifle the case, and go down again. Did you search him when you returned to the house?”

“Of course not.” Thorpe crossed the room and yanked on the bellpull beside his bed. “There’s only one fault in your theory, ma’am. The jewels are never kept in this room, save for occasional safekeeping. How could a stranger know anything about that?”

“The footman told him ... or that gamekeeper of yours. I never trust my servants with the location of my jewels. Not even my maid.”

“A simple matter,” Lady Genevieve murmured, “when you have no jewels worth the trouble. Even her wedding ring is naught but purest pinchbeck.”

As Lillian choked on a laugh disguised as a cough, Becksnaff appeared in the doorway. His smooth hair was ruffled, betraying his inner concern. “You rang, sir?”

“Yes. Would you mind escorting up here that young man Price found on the grounds? We've some questions to put to him.”

“Certainly, sir.”

“Shouldn’t Nora be here?” Lillian asked involuntarily.

“Nora? What on earth for?” Mrs. Grenshaw said. ‘The punishment of a common ruffian hardly concerns a delicately bred girl like Nora.”

“Goodness, Mr. Everard isn’t going to punish anyone. At least I hope he will not.”

“No, Miss Cole, I am no magistrate. I simply want to ask the boy whether he can throw any light on this subject.”

“He’ll lie,” Mrs. Grenshaw said huffily. “I know the lower classes. They’ll say anything—anything at all—to get out of trouble. Why, my two maids lie persistently. You should hear them. This common fellow will tell some fantastic story of his absolute innocence, when 'tis plain as day he’s as guilty as the devil. You wait and see.”

“No need to get nervous, Ursula,” her husband said, coming to stand close beside her. She was silenced as completely as if he’d put his hand over her mouth. Mr. Grenshaw glanced around, a most dubious expression of concern on his round face. “She’s been troubled by the servants before now, you know. She will befriend them, and then they take advantage of her good nature.”

Mr. Becksnaff, appearing in the doorway, gave a most affronted cough. “The young gentleman to see you, sir.”

Lady Genevieve repeated, only loud enough for Lillian to hear, “Young gentleman? Becksnaff has chosen sides.”

To say that the poacher marched into the bedchamber would be to do him less than justice. He was a parade of one, the entire panoply of military history rolled into a single example, despite his lack of uniform. His shoulders were squared and his back was literally ramrod straight. Lillian had no doubt she stood in the presence of a future general, and she could have kissed him for joy. No one, looking at this young man, could suspect for an instant that he could ever be less than honorable.

“Humph,” Mr. Grenshaw said, sneering. “No doubt the stones are still on him. He can’t have gotten rid of ‘em yet. Come on, Thorpe, you hold him and I’ll search him.”

The words were hardly out of his mouth when there was a blur of white and gold shooting like a comet into the room. Nora threw herself across her lover’s chest, crying out, “No! You shan’t touch him!” She glared at her uncle and aunt, saying, “I’m not afraid of you!”

Her aunt stepped forward, and Nora shrunk back, her beautiful mouth twisting with fear. Mrs. Grenshaw hissed, “Stop making a fool of yourself! What will cousin Thorpe think?”

The young lieutenant spoke. “I don’t see why she should care what he thinks. I’m the only one she’s going to have to answer to from now on.” He had a slow, deep voice rather at odds with his slight appearance but well suited to a future leader of men.

Nora glanced up at him adoringly, shaking back her loosened hair. His arm tightened about her waist as he dropped his head to kiss her.

“Nora!” Mr. Grenshaw entered the lists. “Are you dicked in the nob? A common poacher!”

“He’s not a poacher,” Nora declared, freeing her lips the necessary quarter inch in order to speak. “He’s a lieutenant in the army.”

“That’s worse!” Mrs. Grenshaw advanced wearing a spurious smile. “Come now, my dear, you’re a trifle confused, that’s, all. You cannot have thought what marrying this fellow means. A life of hardship and strife. Following the drum may sound romantic, but... remember, you’ve a family to consider. Think of your sisters, so young and defenseless. What will your mother do, if you are married?”

Nora visibly weakened. “I—I—” Another ardent kiss from her hero lent her strength. “My mother knows my heart. She thought I should meet cousin Thorpe, just to test the depth of my feelings for Gilbert. I’m sorry,” she said, looking at Thorpe. “You’re very kind, but I can’t marry you.”

“My sweet child,” he answered, “you’ll have to give me your pardon, but I don’t recall asking you to marry me. You’re quite lovely, but my tastes have changed since I fell in love with Emily.”

Mrs. Grenshaw screamed, no thin screech, but a true shriek as though someone had snatched a bright toy from a spoiled brat. Mr. Grenshaw said, “Now then, Ursula,” and fell to patting his wife’s plump shoulder.

Lillian saw that he did not seem in the least crestfallen, but on the whole appeared rather smug. She wondered if he happened to know that the lieutenant stood in line for some inheritance or other. Mr. Grenshaw had the appearance of a man with a contingency plan. Perhaps he knew of yet another way that Thorpe Everard might be coined into gold.

Lady Genevieve said, “Well, this has been an entertaining interlude but we must return to our muttons. Namely, what has happened to my emerald necklace?”

A very small, extremely tired voice said, “Is the party up here now?”

All the adults, with the exception of Nora and Gilbert who were otherwise occupied, turned to look at the doorway. Addy, her tiny pale feet peeking out from beneath the ruffled hem of her nightdress, stood before them. Draped over one thin arm was the floppiest of her dolls.

Seeing her there, unexpectedly, Lillian found a mysterious new tenderness taking hold of her heart. She suddenly knew that it was her responsibility to take care of Addy, not just because she’d been hired as the child’s governess, but because it was her dearest wish, save one.

Before Thorpe or Lady Genevieve could move, Lillian reached Addy’s side. “No, there’s been some confusion, but everything’s all right now. Come on, I’ll tuck you up again.”

Addy paid no attention. “Who’s that?” she demanded, pointing at the lieutenant. “And what are they doing?” She squinted in distaste. Gilbert stopped kissing Nora long enough to look over his shoulder and give Addy a broad wink. The little girl giggled, apparently coming quite awake.

When Addy shook with laughter, Lillian joined in. But Lady Genevieve said sharply, “What is that on your head, Adrienne?”

Addy, suddenly guilty, clapped her hand over her hair, too late to conceal the strand that glittered there like light turned to stone. “I—I was playing Rajah.”

“Rajah?” Thorpe asked, coming over to stand beside Lillian He offered her his hand to help her rise.

Addy said, “Yes, Miss Cole says rajahs are always covered in diamonds. I couldn’t find any ... so, I used these.”

Thorpe smiled. “Well, Grandmother, I’m happy to say we’ve found your emeralds.”

As the older woman imperiously summoned the child forward to disengage the necklace from the tangled blond locks, Lillian found herself watching those small fingers with a strange fascination. Surely, the individual stones in Lady Genevieve’s emerald necklace had been much larger than those.

Thorpe said, “Well, I think this new engagement requires champagne. Becksnaff, is there ... ?”

Lady Genevieve let out a muffled gasp. Holding up the necklace, she said, “These are not mine! These are sapphires!”

Everyone pushed forward, except for Lillian, who knew she’d seen that particular necklace often. If it had not been for the mesmerizing effect of Thorpe’s touch, perhaps she would have retained sense enough to see the difference sooner. But there was no use repining now. Lady Genevieve had already begun gently questioning the little girl.

All too soon Addy said, “I was so dull! Everybody else was dancing, but I couldn’t see anything even when I looked over the railing. All the maids were busy. I couldn’t sleep ‘cause of the music. I wanted to play Rajah. My bed’s an elephant, but I wanted diamonds. I found them in a basket... where? I know I shouldn’t have gone in there but... in her room!” She pointed a small finger at Lillian.

 She had known they would be bound to look at her and had begun to blush before Addy had finished her sentence. There was a dark pressure behind her eyes that blotted out everything in the room except Thorpe.

He stared at her, the depth of his disenchantment naked in his dark eyes. After a moment that seemed a veritable eternity, he set about casting that spell of cheerfulness and charm that she now knew he used to shield his deepest feelings. “I cannot wait for your explanation, Miss Cole. Don’t hesitate to speak. I’m certain it will be most entertaining.”

“Explanation?” Mr. Grenshaw said. “What explanation can there possibly be? She’s obviously nothing but a hardened thief, coming here under false pretenses. I have to wonder how many other innocent households she’s insinuated herself into!” He drew himself up like a lay preacher and gave her the sort of look Adam and Eve must have seen in eyes of the archangel when he cast them out of paradise.

Mrs. Grenshaw seemed to wake up. “I never liked the look of her—nasty, shifty eyes! Corrupting my innocent grandchild with her evil ways! I told you, Thorpe, that such a creature is only out for what she can beg, borrow, or steal! Look at her, standing there so mild! Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but I wouldn’t trust her with cream!”

Thorpe offered Lillian one of his most dazzling smiles, which pained her more sharply than if he’d upbraided her with harsh words or even offered blows. “You still haven’t said anything, Miss Cole.”

“I’ve hardly had the chance, Mr. Everard.” Lillian supposed her life must have been sheltered. Certainly, she could recall no pain so sharp as this. Yet, somehow, she managed to speak relatively clearly, controlling the involuntary gasps of agony that threatened to break free from her throat. Thorpe and she had come so close to happiness, and now he was prepared to believe the worst of her. Perhaps it was his pain she felt and not her own. She wanted to reach out to him, but dared not risk his turning away.

Lady Genevieve said, “I cannot understand what you are making such a noise about. Miss Cole, don’t you think Addy ought to be in bed? It is rather late.”

Mrs. Grenshaw shrieked anew and hurled her lumpish body between Lillian and Addy. “Are you mad? Would you entrust my poor lamb once more to the care of such a depraved, low creature as that? Thorpe, I demand you summon the constable. I shan’t permit Addy to spend another night under the same roof as this ... this woman!”

Lady Genevieve said blandly, “Really, such heat over a cheap necklace... .”

“Cheap?” Mrs. Grenshaw said, sounding much more like a sparrow than the sea gull she’d imitated a moment earlier.

“Why, yes. The commonest sort of paste. You don’t think an ordinary governess could afford the genuine Burmese stones, do you?”

“Here,” Mr. Grenshaw said, coming forward with one heavy hand held out. “Let me see those.”

“Oh, there’s no need. I assure you I am entirely able to distinguish the genuine from the false. I have, after all, a long acquaintance with jewels of all kinds.” With a smile that must have often charmed her husband with its flirtatious defiance, Lady Genevieve popped the necklace down her bodice. Mr. Grenshaw’s fingertips came within a hair of brushing the front of her ladyship’s gown. She stepped back and gave him a look that would have fried a more sensitive person in his boots.

Frustrated, Mr. Grenshaw all but snarled. Addy merely sighed, much more resigned. “Never mind. Grandfather. We can still play Rajah with Great’s necklace. Where is it?”

“How—how should I know? What does the brat mean?” Mr. Grenshaw’s complexion had become that lovely shade of aubergine known as dowager’s purple among the modistes of London.

Addy patiently added, “Great’s necklace. The necklace you had when I saw you tonight.
You
know.”

“You lying little rat... what are you trying ... to send me up Queer Street... ?” With each word, Mr. Grenshaw took a step toward Addy, his hands doubling into fists at his sides. Yet Thorpe was safely there before him, interposing his body between the maddened man and the tiny figure gazing up at him without a care in the world.