Wilde, Jennifer (5 page)

It
was almost one o'clock before I finally finished packing. I had just closed the
bags and fastened them when there came a timid knock on the door. Millie
stepped inside, her face pale, her blue eyes wide with apprehension. Her cap
was askew atop her tarnished gold curls, and the apron she wore over her black
dress was twisted and crumpled, as though she had been wringing it in her
hands.

"Mi—milady
wants to see you downstairs in th' parlor," she said. Her voice trembled.
"She—she wants to see
all
of us. Somethin's
afoot,
Miss
Danver. Somethin' awful 'as 'appened, I just know it! Cook's in tears, she is,
threatening to quit, an' even Jeffers is upset—'e's to come to th' parlor, too.
All
of us are."

"What's
wrong, Millie?"

"I
—I don't
know,
Miss. Th' master an' th' mistress 'ad 'em a long talk in th' sittin' room,
talkin' for over a hour, like they was plannin' somethin', an' then th' master
comes out wearing' a grin an' e' fetches Alfie an' sends 'im off to Bow Street
to deliver a message to milady's uncle. You know who 'e is, don't-ja?"

"I
believe he's a magistrate."

"That
'e is! 'E's got twenty thief-takers workin' for 'im, scoundrels who round up
wrong-doers 'n bring 'em in to 'im. 'E sits there behind 'is desk 'n sentences
'em. 'E sends 'em to Newgate, Miss Danver, 'n if 'e don't like their looks 'e
sends 'em to th' gallows!"

"Relax,
Millie," I said gently. "You've done nothing wrong, have you?"

"No,
Miss, but—"

"Then
you've nothing to worry about."

"Alfie
came back in a big black coach. Two of them thief-takers were with 'im, rough,
churlish-lookin' blokes with mean eyes. They're in th' parlor now, talkin' with
Lord Mallory—"

Millie
shuddered. Like most of the lower class, she had a terrible fear of the thief
takers, a rough, vicious crew who were frequently much more corrupt than the
criminals they pursued. They were paid a small sum for every culprit they
brought in. Some of the "culprits" were children, street urchins who,
on the point of starvation, might have snatched a loaf of bread. The real criminals,
the rich and powerful hooligans who reigned with terror, were rarely brought
in, for the thief-takers could be bought off easily enough for a share of the
spoils, as, indeed, could the magistrates themselves. A newspaper had recently
stated that there was very little difference between those who enforced the law
and those who broke it, and reforms were already underway to remove corrupt
officials who used their position for gain, thriving on blackmail and bribery
and actually encouraging crime. The present system of law enforcement was a net
that pulled in all the little fish while allowing the big fish to swim in
smooth waters. Although there were, of course, scrupulously honest magistrates
with complete integrity, most of them were thoroughly venal.

"We—we're
to join 'em down there," Millie stammered.

"Very
well, Millie. I'm sure there's just been some kind of misunderstanding. It'll
be all right. You'll see."

"Oh,
Miss Danver, I'm
scared..."

I
patted
the girl's hand and left the room with her. I was not at all worried, nor in
the least suspicious, not even when Lord Mallory passed us on the staircase. He
nodded and stood aside to let us pass, a sly smile on his lips, and then he
went on up as We continued to descend. I wondered what it was all about.
Whatever it was, it was highly inconvenient, and I wouldn't have bothered to
come downstairs at all had I not felt Millie needed my support. As soon as this
meeting in the parlor was over, I would ask Alfie to bring my bags down and
fetch a cab for me, and then I would leave number 10 Montagu Square forever.

The
parlor was a large, spacious room on the ground floor with ivory walls and a
gilt ceiling from which hung a superb chandelier dripping with glittering
crystal pendants. A rich blue carpet covered the floor, and the draperies were
a darker blue damask. The white-and-gold furniture was exquisite, each piece
imported from France. I wondered why Lady Mallory should be holding this
meeting in such elegant surroundings, but as we entered I realized it was the
only room in the house sizable enough to hold all the servants without
crowding. The others had already arrived, and they stood in a nervous cluster:
Cook belligerent, Jeffers pale and alarmed, Mrs. Branderson tearful. The maids
were all as jittery and upset as Millie, the footmen apprehensive, the grooms
and coachman surly.

Two
strangers stood apart, observing them all.

One
of the strangers, a tall, skinny man dressed all in black, had a face like a
death mask, with gaunt, deep hollows beneath his cheekbones, gray smudges
beneath eyes as black as coals. His lips were thin, his nose a sharp beak, his
hair a blazing red. The other was a husky, burly fellow with enormous shoulders
and a coarse, brutal face. His mouth was too large. His nose was humped,
obviously broken in some brawl and never properly mended. Heavy lids drooped
like hoods over fierce brown eyes. He wore muddy brown boots, a dark tan suit
and a waistcoat of brown broadcloth, a burnt-orange stock untidily puffed under
his chin. The pair of them looked like denizens of some dark, foul back alley,
capable of the vilest crimes, and I tried to suppress a shudder as the burly
one looked at me with unmitigated lust.

"These
th' last of th' lot?" the redhead asked.

"These
are the last," Lady Mallory said.

She
had been standing behind a small white table, casually turning the pages of a
book. Now she set the book down and came toward us. She was wearing a lovely
pearl-gray gown adorned with pink velvet bows, and although it was exceedingly
elegant, it did nothing for her thin, scrawny body. Her faded blond hair was
fashionably arranged in a style that merely emphasized her sour, pinched
features. As Millie and I went to stand with the other servants, Lady Mallory
glanced at me. A thin smile flickered on her lips, and there was a malicious
glitter in her eyes.

"Now
that you're all here, allow me to introduce these gentlemen," she said.
She indicated the redhead. "This is Mr. Clancy. His colleague is Mr.
Higgins. They are law enforcers, commonly referred to as 'thief-takers,' and
they are employed by my uncle, Roderick Mann. As you may know, he's a
magistrate on Bow Street."

"What's
that got to do with
us!"
Cook exclaimed, her huge body quivering
with indignation. "We ain't done nothin'! Not a one of us! Been workin'
here nigh on ten years, I 'ave, and never once 'ave I been so... so 'umiliated!
I'm not gonna stand 'ere and—"

"Shut
your mouth!" Higgins growled.

He
glared at her with vicious brown eyes, looking as though he'd like nothing
better than to knock her down. Cook went pale, clasping her hand over her heart
and backing away. One of the maids began to sob. The grooms grumbled—one of
them clenched his fists—but all the servants were much too intimidated to say
or do anything that might agitate the thief-takers. These men were clearly
ruthless, and they represented a cruel and merciless authority that brooked no
insubordination.

Lord
Mallory strolled casually into the room, a pleased look on his face. His wife
looked at him. Lord Mallory gave her a nod. That thin smile flickered on her
lips again, and then she continued in a pleasant, almost chatty tone of voice.

"Last
night, when I returned from the country, I brought my emerald necklace with me.
It was in a long white leather case. I set the case on the dressing table in my
bedroom. This morning it was gone."

Millie
began to tremble. I squeezed her hand. The other maids began to babble, but one
sharp look from Higgins shut them up. Lady Mallory patted a faded blond curl,
quite pleased with herself. She looked straight at me. There was triumph in her
eyes. I knew then. My heart began to palpitate. My whole body seemed to grow
cold. Lord Mallory leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest,
watching me with that dark, mocking amusement. I knew why he had been going
upstairs and why he had nodded to his wife when he came back into the parlor.

"There
was no sign of forced entry," Lady Mallory continued. "Jeffers swears
that all the doors and windows were securely locked when he made his rounds
this morning. That leaves us with only one conclusion—one of you slipped into
my bedroom and took the necklace. As none of you have left the house today,
we'll undoubtedly find it hidden in one of your rooms."

These
last words created a sensation. Cook began to shriek. Brandy began to bawl. The
maids and the grooms and foot men vehemently protested their innocence. I was
silent. I seemed to be paralyzed. I stared across the room at the man leaning
so nonchalantly against the wall, unable to believe he had done what I knew he
had done. He and his wife had planned it together, and Lady Mallory was
savoring my plight as much as her husband was, perhaps even more. When the
furor finally subsided, Lady Mallory exchanged looks with her husband. Both
were enjoying themselves immensely.

"Your
rooms will be searched one by one," she said. "We wouldn't want to
give the thief an opportunity to slip up to his or her room and remove the
necklace, so Clancy and Higgins will take you to your rooms one at a time,
search it, then bring you back down here where the others will be waiting. No
one will leave the room until they leave with these two gentlemen from Bow
Street. We'll begin with the maids. I think—yes—Millie will be first. Millie,
you'll take Mr. Clancy and Mr. Higgins up to your room and stand aside while
they search it."

"I
'aven't stolen anything!" Millie cried. "I 'aven't! I'm
scared
to
go up there alone with 'em! I know what they do to poor workin' girls. I've
'eard tales. Please, milady, don't make me—"

Higgins
stepped over to the girl and slapped her across the mouth with such brutal
force that she stumbled back against the other servants, almost falling. She
began to cry hysterically, the imprint of his hand burning a bright pink on her
face. Brown eyes smouldering, Higgins seized her arm and jerked her forward.
Millie struggled, and he gave her arm a savage twist, thrusting it behind her
and up between her shoulder blades.

"I
reckon she's th' guilty one, milady," he said. "They don't carry on
like this 'less they've got somethin' to hide. You're gonna be sorry you opened
your mouth, wench. Clancy and I know how to handle the likes of you—"

"No!"
Millie cried. "Milady, please—"

Higgins
held her arm in a brutal grip, and when she continued to struggle he gave it a
sharp upward thrust. Millie screamed, bending forward. With his free hand
Higgins seized her hair, gripping the tarnished gold curls in his fingers and
jerking her head back against his shoulders, putting even more pressure on her
arm. The girl almost passed out from the pain. The other servants watched in
horror, much too terrified to go to her aid.

I
stepped toward them. "Let go of her!" I ordered.

Higgins
was so startled that he actually obeyed me. Millie stumbled forward, and Brandy
hurried over to her, wrapping her arms around the girl and murmuring words of
comfort. Everyone else stared at me, and then Higgins turned to Lady Mallory as
though for direction.

"What's
this?" he asked huskily.

"Yes,"
Lord Mallory drawled, "what
is
this?"

"There's
no need carrying on this elaborate charade," I said in a flat voice.
"The necklace is in my room. You know it is. You put it there just a few
minutes ago."

"Did
I?"
Lord Mallory looked amazed. "Really, Miss Danver, you have quite an
imagination."

"There's
no need to subject the other servants to any further humiliation. I'll take
these two—two creatures up to my room. I'm quite sure they'll find the
necklace. It would save time, of course, if you'd simply tell them where you
planted it."

Lord
Mallory shook his head, looking at the thief-takers with a perplexed
expression. "The lass is out of her mind," he said, "but if she
wants to be first, let her be first, by all means. My wife and I will keep an
eye on the others while you accompany her to her room, gentlemen."

Summoning
all the dignity I could muster, I walked out of the parlor, my chin held high.
Higgins and Clancy sauntered along behind me, talking in low voices as we moved
up the staircase. My bronze taffeta skirt made a crisp, crackling sound. I was
perfectly calm because this wasn't real. It was happening to someone else. As I
opened the door to my room and stood aside to let them enter, I felt as if I
were far away, watching with cool objectivity some drama on a stage that didn't
concern me at all.

"Cool
one, 'er," Clancy remarked.

"Cool
as can be," Higgins agreed. "A bit too high and mighty to suit me, I
don't mind tellin' you. I see she has her bags all packed, ready to make a
quick getaway. Reckon we might find the gems in one of 'em."

"Reckon
so," Clancy said.

They
opened the bags, pulling garments out and tossing them aside. In a matter of
moments my clothes were strewn all over the room, on the floor, across chairs,
over the bed. Higgins examined my undergarments, chuckling to himself. I stood
against the wall, watching, feeling nothing but the curious numbness that made
it impossible for me to believe this could really be happening.