‘I really am pleased with it, Clemmie. I must confess I was very mindful of the responsibility of taking on such a commission, but Miss Weston has been the perfect model to study. I kept remembering all of Frederick’s special strokes to enhance her face and those fair curls. I’m particularly proud of her fingers, because I have always found it quite difficult to make them look natural.’ She picked up the corner of the sheet and dabbed her eyes. ‘How silly of me; I suddenly had a thought that maybe Frederick was guiding my fingers.’
‘Aye, we both miss him very much.’
‘Thank you for coming with me, Clemmie. I should be very lonely without you here.’
This time Mrs Clements picked up the corner of her apron and wiped her eyes. ‘I’m helping Cook today. Thank you for speaking to her. I’m sure we shall do nicely together now we understand our places.’
Meredith didn’t get out of bed when Clemmie left; instead she lay back and thought of those living in Tallow House. She was now part of a large household and this one had grown two-fold in the same number of days, which brought her back to Adam Fox. He had subtly moved into her life: first as a client, then confidant, then lover and now he wanted her as his wife.
She loved him. There was no denying that truth. She tried to hold back the sobs, but they wouldn’t obey. She surrendered and fell into the pit of despair.
When Meredith entered the dining-room, only Adam sat at the table. He had eaten; his used plate pushed aside, and was reading The Times. A frown creased his forehead and he sighed. ‘This French situation with Napoleon is becoming a most serious business. He has Paris in his grip and thousands of troops loyal to him. The aristocrats are becoming nervous again.’
‘It is indeed a worrying situation. Clemmie has noticed many more French maids in the markets. It will not disturb you if I have a late breakfast?’
‘Hardly late, Meredith. Aunt Izzie always stays in her room and Victor has taken Sarah to High Holborn. Please, sit down; there is something I need to talk to you about.’
Sitting in her now designated place she buttered a piece of toast. ‘If it’s about the portrait, I shall finish it today. Providing you are satisfied with my work, then our arrangement is finalised.’ She spread a blackcurrant preserve, keeping her eyes lowered.
‘It isn’t about Sarah. It’s about Madame Lightfoot. I found out last night where she lives.’
Meredith glanced up at him. ‘How?’
‘A little idea occurred to me.’
‘Does it help us?’
‘Not directly. She owns a milliners shop in Bond Street under the name of Madame de Foile. I want to have a look around. We will visit with the pretence that you are about to be married and require a large number of hats for your trousseau. While you keep the madame busy, I shall search the remainder of the premises.’
‘What if she’s there? She knows me and …’ She trailed off, thinking about the last time she had been in that woman’s presence.
‘Not if you are wearing a veil, leaning heavily on a walking cane and complaining about your unfortunate riding accident with the hounds in Hertfordshire.’
She stared at him in disbelief. ‘Are you mad? Besides, convention depicts that my chaperone, your aunt, would be the one to accompany me.’
‘You are quite right. But, as you are so indisposed, it has been decided that you require a gentleman’s arm and strength to support you.’
‘What do you hope to gain out of this masquerade? I understand the need when we were at the inn, but Bond Street?’
‘As you said, Madame Lightfoot may be in residence. But no matter, I shall go, I’m sure my charm will be able to fulfil my quest.’
‘You will not.’ Meredith almost threw her chair back as she stood up. ‘This is my problem and I shall come with you.’ She took a deep breath, about to tell him he was not in charge when he started to laugh.
‘I love to see you in high spirits, Meredith. You become the most desirable of women. If it wasn’t that we are running out of time, I could so easily sweep you off your feet and disappear into my bedchamber, flaunt convention and throw both our reputations to the wind.’
He pushed his chair back, and came towards her.
Meredith stepped back. ‘No, Adam, please, we must think of –’
Taking her hands he leant forward and lightly kissed her cheek, ‘Run along, my dear, time enough for us later. Do you have a veiled hat?’
‘Only the one I had for Frederick’s funeral.’
‘It will have to do, perhaps a little mauve ribbon?’
‘I’ll see what I have. You will provide the walking cane?’
‘Yes. I’ll have the coach here in a half-hour.’
He opened the door and followed her out, then went into his study.
Amongst the bustle of maids and footmen laden with boxes and packages and doting mothers ushering their daughters into shops offering the most delicious chocolates to the latest gown designs required to tempt the wealthiest of beaux, Madame de Foile, Milliner Extraordinaire, had an exquisite display of hats in her bow-window.
Adam helped his crippled fiancée from the coach and handed her a walking cane. Then he supported her into the Bond Street modiste’s shop.
Madame de Foile, in a gown of deep green silk, her dark hair coiled soft and loose at the nape of her neck, came towards them smiling. ‘Good morning. I received your note, Mr Fox. I have a high chair ready for your fiancée. Perhaps you would like a chair?’
‘Thank you.’ He looked around and gestured to a dim corner at the back of the room. ‘There, if you please. I do not wish to intrude in any way upon Miss Sanders’ consultation.’
‘Your diligence is most admirable, sir, if you will permit me to say so.’
Adam nodded this acknowledgement, but made no reply as Madame de Foile moved a visitors’ chair to accommodate him.
He helped Meredith forward. ‘Now, my dear, will this be comfortable for you?’
‘Thank you, Mr Fox. Madame and I will have a pleasant morning discussing colours and styles.’
She had practised using the cane for only a few minutes after Adam had given it to her. But she managed to lean on it and walk with a pronounced limp.
‘Shall we start with the sombre colours? I see that you are still wearing mourning black. How long is it that you have lost your dear one?’
‘Papa has been gone almost a year. Our wedding will be one week after I discard these mourning weeds. Can we look at the pastel shades, pink perhaps?
‘Pink is a delightful choice of colour. Do I see dark hair under your veil?’
‘Yes. I do not wish to remove my own hat. The accident has, unfortunately, given my neck a most debilitating ache and my constitution has suffered badly. Today I would like to look at colours and patterns. I still find any exertion quite tiring.’
‘My patterns are mainly from the Paris collection, but I can create anything you require.’
‘That is most generous of you. Let us start with the collection you have.’
Madame de Foile fluttered her hands; a bright red flush colouring her cheeks. ‘First, I must apologise for not having my assistant here to help. The wretched girl announced, quite unexpectedly, that she was marrying a gentleman from Derby. A pottery maker that she met at her aunt’s house! She had the ill grace to leave me quite inconvenienced within two days. As yet, I have not been able to find another suitable assistant. I will have to fetch and carry myself.’
‘Please, do not feel so distressed, I am quite happy to extend my visit to accommodate you.’ This was a most fortunate circumstance. The milliner would be far too busy to notice if Adam disappeared.
‘Thank you, Miss Sanders. I could, of course, ask one of my milliner girls from the workroom above to assist, but I fear their appearance and common voice would not be appropriate. Lady Silburn is coming this afternoon and I would be the ridicule of the tea parlour tomorrow.’
With another f
lutter of her hands, Madame de Foile brought a small table for Meredith and opened a pattern book. ‘The ones I would recommend are marked with a ribbon tab.’
‘I can sympathise whole heartedly, Madame. I am so sorry that my immobility prevents me from walking far, so I must rely upon your good nature to pander to my whims. I would love to see what you recommend.’
Adam waited as Meredith concentrated on her play-acting, her eyes nervously looking about her. No doubt Madame Lightfoot was uppermost in her mind.
Once he was sure Meredith had Madame de Foile’s full attention, he went to a door he had seen when they arrived. He listened for any movement; all was quiet and he opened the door and slipped inside. It was furnished as an office and he searched the desk drawers, but each one was empty. An eight-drawer chest proved the same.
He leant against the chest, pondering how strange there were no bills of sale or ledgers. Then the chest moved to reveal a low locked door. He was not surprised, having seen the secrecy the dark woman lived in. He pushed the chest back into place, but would dearly love to know what lay beyond. He studied a painting hanging on the wall, perhaps this too had something to hide. He lifted the frame and found a small wall safe. Madame Lightfoot trusted no one. Adam walked round the room – it had been deliberately cleared.
There was a second door with a key in the lock and this opened into a passageway.
Adam turned left and went along to a stairway that led to the upper floor. At the landing there were two doors. From the one on his right he could hear women’s voices – this must be the milliners’ workroom. On his left a metal door was partially open and he went in. The rooms were much the same as at Ludgate Hill except dust sheets covered all the furnishings. A quick search revealed that Lightfoot had left on a permanent or extended basis. The momentous relief that the threat to Meredith was no more faded as he realised Lightfoot’s disappearance proved she hadn’t found the Turner. With the forged painting somewhere at sea, all trace of Lightfoot’s involvement was erased.
Adam returned to the shop and sat on his chair.
Meredith was still plying Madame de Foile with complimentary words.
‘I am in complete agreement with you, Madame; pastel shades will be so much more fashionable this summer. I’m sure our choice of styles will delight my chaperone, Miss Fox.’
She turned towards him and smiled. ‘Are you getting bored, sir? We are sorry to have been so long. Madame has been so very generous and supplied many samples and patterns for me to take home. I am assured your aunt will give me her valued opinion.’
Meredith picked up a small linen valise. ‘Good day, Madame de Foile.’
He stepped forward to help her from the chair, and nodded to the Frenchwoman, ‘Au revoir, Madame. Thank you for being so kind to my fiancée. And for allowing me the pleasure of a few peaceful moments, observing the mysteries of a lady choosing her millinery.’
Adam waited to see if there was any reaction from Madame de Foile. There was none. His absence had not been observed.
In the coach, Meredith raised the veil and sighed. ‘Where on earth did you go to, Adam? I was running out of colours to ask the woman to show me. And if that is the latest Paris fashion, I don’t think I shall be returning. They were not to my liking at all.’
Adam leant forward, untied the mauve ribbon, and removed Meredith’s hat. ‘That’s better, black mourning is not your colour. I do agree with Madame de Foile, pastels are far more suitable for you.’
‘Stop deviating, what did you find out?’
‘Madame Lightfoot has left. I don’t know whether permanently, but most definitely on a long absence. The office has been emptied of all business papers. The rooms above have been stripped of all her personal belongings. It appears that her art dealer business has ended.’
‘You don’t sound as though this is good news. What does this mean for me?’
He sat quiet for a moment. What he had to say wasn’t good news. He stroked his finger over her pale cheek, guessing she had the answer herself.
‘The missing Turner has now become a case of theft. Nothing can be proved concerning the forged paintings. They are now just a cargo bound for Australia. I suspect that the captain, when he was asked to transport you, guessed things were going wrong. He will dispose of those packages in such a way no one will ever know where they came from.’
‘I see. Then Frederick will never be identified?’
‘Probably not. Anyone associated with Lightfoot will vanish from the horizon like the setting sun.’
‘You don’t look very happy about that. What are you holding back?’
Adam moved and sat next to her. ‘If we could only find the original painting and get it back to the Royal Academy by tomorrow, this underhanded business could be finished with.’
‘You are saying that if the magistrate traced the painting to the studio, I would be charged with its theft?’
‘I don’t want to frighten you, Meredith, but it is better that we face the possibility.’
‘Then I must find it.’
He would protect her with all his strength and might, but as she had already pointed out, he had no association with Frederick Sanders. He had known her only a short time. Marriage would not be enough to save her.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Meredith was closing her bedchamber door. Before she took a step away, Adam came out of his room.
‘Ah, my fiancée is restored to health. Have you stored away that undesirable black?’
‘Yes. I’m surprised Mrs Clements even packed it when we left Harlington and I can’t think why she brought it here. But it served us well today.’
‘We’ll talk in my study this afternoon. Aunt Izzie will be most upset if we are late.’ He offered his arm to her and they made their way down the stairs.
Sarah’s privilege to be at the dining table had been extended to include today. She was very excited about her morning outing with her father and was telling Miss Fox all the places she had seen.
‘Papa took me to a wonderful toy shop. It is called Noah’s Ark. Isn’t that a funny name? We looked at so many things, but I chose a new doll and she’s sitting on my bed. I’ve named her Daffodil, after the first flower I painted with Miss Sanders in the garden. Then Papa took me to a bookshop. There were lots and lots of shelves and a special part for children. The owner helped me choose; I have The Tales of Robin Hood. Papa says it is only a legend, but the drawings are …’ She stopped and looked up at the ceiling. ‘I think I would like to draw like that. When I have read the stories, I will think of something different and draw them. Will you help me, Miss Sanders?’
Would she be able to help or would she be in prison? ‘That’s an excellent suggestion, Sarah, I’m sure we shall all be extremely impressed.’ She had not given a commitment, but she hoped it would encourage Sarah to continue with her paintings.
Victor Weston held up his hand. ‘No more talking, Sarah. Eat your food or Simms will be kept waiting for your plate.’
‘Yes, Papa. But it has all been so wonderful.’
Victor, not following his own advice, said, ‘The city roads are busier than when I left. There was hardly room for all the carriages; are not the gentry going to their country estates?’
‘It’s not just those that own carriages now. Imports and exports are increasing daily. I am in the process of acquiring another warehouse. Trade with the far side of the world has doubled since my father’s day.’
‘So you think this is a good business to invest in? Better than botany? I intend to approach Kew Gardens when I have seen old William Jacobs tomorrow. Would you recommend I change my vocation, Adam?’
‘No. But when you have acclimatised back to civilisation, you may wish to consider a few shares in shipping.’
‘Ah, do I detect a little family investment?’
Adam laughed and picked up his glass of wine. ‘May I toast your new future, and our changing England?’
&nbs
p; Conversation drifted around the home life of the Fox family, until Aunt Izzie drew the meal to an end.
‘Although your company is both challenging and enjoyable, it is time for my nap. I shall be down for tea at four o’clock.’
Adam got up and helped her from the chair. ‘Let me see you to your bedchamber, Aunt, and give Simms the extra time for his duties.’
As they left the room, Meredith wanted to go too. But with Victor still seated she considered it only polite to stay.
He kept his gaze on the glass, twisting the stem round and round. ‘Sarah tells me her portrait is nearly finished. I have a small miniature of my wife: would you be able to create a full-size portrait to match Sarah’s? We will, of course, find our own house in time and I should like to place them side by side.’
Meredith heard the grief in his voice and admired him for the bravado he was putting on for Sarah.
‘Oh, Papa, that would be so beautiful. Miss Sanders can do that, I know she can.’ The child’s blue eyes had absolute confidence in them. ‘You will, won’t you, Miss Sanders?’
She should have gone when Miss Fox left. They were forcing her, yet again, into promising something she couldn’t be sure of. ‘I will look at the painting. Then we can decide.’ She stood up. ‘If you will excuse me, I have an appointment this afternoon.’
Victor Weston only nodded. Then he said to Sarah, ‘I think you have schoolroom work.’
Meredith took this as her dismissal and she held out her hand to Sarah. ‘Come, Miss Weston, I will take you to your lessons.’
Meredith tapped lightly on Adam’s study door and waited for his call. Once inside and without any preamble he said, ‘There’s only one place left and that’s the gallery.’ He got up and came round to her, his fingers grasping her upper arms tightly. ‘I won’t have you charged with a crime you know nothing about. Frederick Sanders should have finished with Lightfoot long ago. He was not a young man, not even middle aged. He risked everything: his reputation, his daughter’s good name. With all the evidence gone …’ Adam let the unfinished statement speak for itself.
The Hidden Legacy Page 18