The Solitary Envoy (20 page)

“I can well understand,” Lavinia said slowly, “just how much your father must have valued you.” She turned to the banker and announced, “Gold we shall have, sir.”

“But, madam—”

“If you will not accommodate us, no doubt we can find someone else with whom we might conduct our business,” Lavinia replied. “Here or elsewhere.”

The banker rose stiffly to his feet. “As my lady wishes. How much will you be requiring?”

“Erica?”

She had the number ready. “Six hundred pounds.”

“Six hundred …” He pushed through the swinging gate. “One moment. I must put this matter before Mr. Bartholomew.” “

Bankers do so dislike parting with their coin,” Lavinia observed. “Almost as much as I despise paying for things twice over.”

“There will be further requirements,” Erica said quietly, “but some of these less pressing debts can be paid by promissory note …”

She felt the breath freeze in her throat as the first banker led a slender gentleman across the gallery. This was the very same man she had last seen on her seventeenth birthday.

Mr. Bartholomew showed no reaction to Erica. Why should he? After all, he had scarcely seen her at all. She would have been a shadowy figure inside Forrest Langston’s front hall. A young girl, scarcely more than a child, certainly not anyone worth noticing.

Yet the man could not help but notice Erica’s reaction to him. She knew her horror and revulsion were clear on her features. The banker bowed a greeting to Lavinia, yet his gaze kept returning to Erica. “Forgive me. Have we met?” Erica felt an aversion so great it forced aside the blanket of fatigue. “Not formally.”

Lavinia introduced them. “Miss Erica Langston is assisting my husband in matters related to the embassy’s finances.”

The name registered deep in the banker’s gaze. “You are …”

“Erica Langston.” For Erica, the moment was etched with the crystal clarity of ancient rage. “The daughter of Forrest Langston. Surely you remember my father.”

“Your … father.”

“While it was not for that purpose that I came here on this particular day, I have come to England with the sole purpose of collecting the moneys you owe my family.”

“Moneys …” The man was already stepping away. “I’m sorry, I recollect no such payment due.”

“No. Of course you would prefer to forget such a debt. But debt it most certainly is. I have the documents, you see.” She stalked him now, matching him step for step as he backed away. “The documents signed by your very own hand. Stating that you would hold my father’s gold in trust until—”

“No!” The man pushed through the gate and hurried off. “I wish all of you well away!”

The entire chamber remained caught in a breathless hush. Then Lavinia announced to the befuddled junior banker, “I believe there was the matter of a withdrawal, my good sir. One we intend to take in gold.”

Two of the embassy’s creditors simply could not wait, not even a day, the letters they had sent were that alarming. Thankfully, both were in the direction of home and bed, for Erica’s frayed nerves were finally giving way to fatigue. Twice her eyelids began to fall before the carriage jounced her awake.

When they pulled up in front of the solicitors’ offices, Lavinia offered, “Perhaps I should do this myself.”

“No. Really.”

“My dear, you remind me of a washed and starched bed sheet. I insist—”

“Lavinia, please.” It was the first time she had called Mrs. Aldridge by her given name. “Please trust me concerning this.”

Something in Erica’s tone caused Lavinia to pause. “You suspect there may be trouble?”

“I hope not. But if there is, the minister’s wife cannot be seen to be directly involved.” Erica allowed Jacob Harwell to assist her from the carriage. “Do you have the gold?”

“Indeed, miss.”

“Then let us do this thing.” She nodded a greeting to the footman standing by the ancient double doors. “I seek the offices of Richmond and Richmond.”

“Straight across the quadrangle, first door on your left.” As she passed, he added, “They are called chambers, miss.”

“Thank you.” Everything about this system was so confusing. She was entering a place called Lincoln’s Inn, but it was not an inn at all. Instead it was one of a collection of ancient structures called the Inns of Court, where the London attorneys had their offices. Which, as she had just learned, were not called offices at all. The inn’s center was a narrow square with an emerald green lawn and a stone fountain in the middle. To her left stood a small chapel from a time beyond time. The other three sides were lined with peaked medieval doors, the wood blackened by age.

She entered the proper door. A clerk so young he could not shave yet stood in striped pants and long black coat. “May I assist you, my lady?”

“I wish to have a word with Mr. Richmond, Senior.”

The lad had been carefully trained, for he responded formally, “Might I ask the good lady’s name?”

“Please tell Mr. Richmond that I come on behalf of the United States Embassy.”

“One minute, my lady.”

She stood in the tiny front alcove for quite some time before a portly gentleman in half-moon Franklin spectacles and a stained morning coat appeared at the head of the stairs. “I do so hope this is not leading to more empty promises.”

“I assure you not, sir.”

“Because my patience is at an end, I tell you. I won’t stand for another letter, another false payment, nor another worthless chit. I am taking this matter up with the proper officials, and it is my intention to publicly denounce—”

“I bring gold.”

The solicitor’s mouth shut with a snap. He lowered his head so as to inspect her over the top of his spectacles. “Your name?”

“Erica Langston, at your service.”

“That is not the name I recall from earlier correspondence.”

“That particular gentleman is no longer in the embassy’s employ.”

“Ah. A thief, was he?”

“That is not for me to say, sir.”

“No, I suppose not.” The man seemed reluctant to believe his troubles were at an end. “I don’t mind telling you, another two of your creditors have come to me this very morning, seeking a writ against the embassy.”

“Then I shall offer payment in full to them as well if you would be so good as to tell me the total amount owed.”

He studied her a moment longer, then seemed to collect himself. “Perhaps you would care to sit down?”

“Thank you, sir. But we are involved in matters of some urgency here, as you can no doubt understand.”

“Very well.” He turned to a clerk standing in the open doorway. “You have the accounts?”

“Yes, Mr. Richmond.”

“Well, let’s be having them, man. Don’t keep the lady waiting.”

“Two hundred and seventeen guineas, fifteen shillings and four pence.”

Erica said to Jacob, “Pay the gentleman, please.”

As Harwell counted the money into the clerk’s hands, Erica said, “I must extend Minister Aldridge’s most sincere apologies, both to you and to the creditors you represent. This entire matter has been a most serious affront, and we can only hope that no lasting damage has been caused to his good name.”

Mr. Richmond continued to examine her over the top of his spectacles. “You will excuse an old gentleman for observing that you look exhausted, miss.”

“We did not discover the fault until just before dawn.” Erica steadied herself with a gloved hand upon the side wall. The coins made a musical clink as they were counted. “Perhaps you would be so good as to sign a receipt.”

“One moment.” When he returned with the chit, he offered, “The Inns are terrible places for rumors. It’s hard to tell what is real until it is written in the books. But some rumors show a certain strength, if only through how long they hang about. One such is in regard to your employer. Apparently there are some within the royal circle who would rather see him fail.”

Erica knew she should be paying stricter attention and asking intelligent questions. But all she could think of just then was how much she yearned for her pillow. “I shall pass on your helpful observations, sir. And now I must wish you a good day.”

She did not recall the second appointment, nor the journey home, nor even how she climbed the back stairs and entered her little room. She worked at her dress stays and buttons, then decided it was all just too much bother and fell into bed still clothed. She awoke in the middle of the night, feeling famished. She found a plate of food waiting for her on the kitchen table. She ate hungrily, then undressed and slept until dawn.

Erica and Jacob Harwell spent all Friday and Saturday making the rounds. By the close of business on Saturday, all but three of the creditors had been paid. Word had circulated of the young lady bearing gold and the embassy’s apologies. Her carriage was met by butchers and stationers and silversmiths and carpenters, all wreathed in smiles. To each one Erica offered full payment and sincere apologies. Both nights she slept like the dead.

Sunday morning dawned clear and bright. Erica had slept ten hours. Yet she awoke still feeling as though her head were encased in a fog of weariness. Her dreams had been a constant chase from one creditor to the next, a never-ending array of eager creditors with outstretched hands.

Sunday was the one breakfast all the family took together. She washed and dressed in her one remaining clean frock, then joined the others at the big breakfast table in the kitchen. Only when she saw the piles of papers stacked beneath the window did Erica realize that she had never tidied up after her discovery. “Oh, sir, I am so sorry.”

Samuel looked up from his tea and bread. “Sorry? Sorry for what?”

“Sit down, my dear.” Lavinia patted her shoulder as she passed. “Let me serve you this morning.”

“But this mess I’ve left lying around,” Erica protested. She could scarcely believe she had let it sit about their beautiful kitchen for three days. “I feel so ashamed.”

Samuel dabbed his lips with his napkin and rose from his chair. He scraped back the one alongside his own and said, “Allow me, Erica. May I call you that?”

“Sir, of course, but …”

“Please. Sit yourself down, my dear.” He returned to his seat. “Did you sleep well?”

“All right, I suppose. Sir, about the papers, I shall clean them all up immediately after breakfast.”

“You shall do no such thing.”

“But—”

“Rest yourself, Erica. Have a bite to eat and be calm.” He spoke to her with the same tone he used with his children, serene and strong and deep. “Won’t you have some of these strawberry preserves? How about a slice of Wesleyan cheese?”

“Y-yes. Thank you.” Being served by the minister’s own hand, while his wife poured her a steaming cup of tea, was most disconcerting. “Really, I can manage quite well on my own.”

For some reason the two other adults found that most amusing. Lavinia said, “Of that I have no doubt whatsoever.”

Samuel slid his chair back a fraction. “Now, then. I hope that in the days to come I shall find a way to express my gratitude. Just at the moment I find anything that comes to mind most inadequate.”

“Sir …” Erica hesitated, feeling Lavinia’s hand upon her shoulder. A gentle squeeze, then gone. But enough of a message for Erica to still her tongue.

“You may well have saved our family’s good name. What is more, our fledgling embassy is also protected. We have had a stream of visitors come by the office already. People who have avoided my requests for business, traders with whom we would like to establish relations, merchants from different nations. The business of America is business, as you well know. The royal court may frown upon merchants, but we know their worth and thus are granted a level of access and welcome seldom if ever given even to the prince regent. Or we would be, so long as our good name remains unsullied.”

Erica found herself following his direction. “To damage our credit means cutting off our access and thus our ability to serve our country.”

Samuel’s look was as strong a compliment as Erica had ever received. “Precisely. And thus you can see why your work over the past few days has been so vital.” He reached over and patted Erica’s hand. “I, my family, and the country we serve owe you a great debt. You are indeed a friend.”

Abbie could contain herself no longer. The little girl had sat wide-eyed and beaming throughout the exchange. Now from across the table her little voice piped up, “I said it first, Papa! The day Erica arrived, that’s what I said. That she was going to be our very good friend.”

Chapter 16

A lovely June Sunday greeted them when they entered the manor’s forecourt. Samuel Aldridge plucked the timepiece from his waistcoat and flicked open the gold face. “I believe we have time to walk. My dear, would you care to take a turn?”

“Nothing would suit me more,” Lavinia replied.

Samuel pushed the perambulator while his wife held his arm. The pram was built with the precision of an elegant carriage. The wheels joined a complex spring system that gentled the baby over rough spots. The apparatus was framed in gilded mahogany and covered with a starched linen skirt that matched the blanket laid over the sleeping infant. Erica walked behind the couple with Abbie attached to her hand like a bouncing balloon.