Felicity swallowed hard. She knew that Adrian Entwhistle, although guilty of much, was most decidedly innocent of this particular crime and things were galloping beyond her control. Richards’s voice seemed to echo as she heard him reply. ‘I hope you succeed in getting it back, but now we have intruded on your hospitality long enough and will take our leave.’ The Marquis accepted his hand. ‘Please, call me Alex, I hope we may become better acquainted. At the very least when we meet again we can greet one another civilly.’
‘Under the circumstances you have been more than generous,’ Richard smiled. ‘I will look forward to meeting you again; maybe we can shoot some wafers at Manton’s together.’
Richard returned Felicity home. ‘Well that went well Flick. I hope it has taught you a lesson to curb that impetuous nature of yours. At least we can consider the matter closed now. Felicity bit her lip and blushed slightly as the matter was far from closed. What had she done? Far from retrieving property that she thought did not belong to him, she had broken into the Marquis’ home and stolen the famous Stansfield necklace. What is more Lord Alex Sheraton was resolutely on the hunt for Adrian Entwhistle and heaven knows what he would do when he caught up with him. The Marquis was ripe for murder, of that she was sure and she did not want the life and limb of Entwhistle on her conscience. Now she had the problem of returning the necklace before Emily’s husband was found and without anyone ever knowing what she had done.
Chapter 7
Felicity’s Dilemma and the Grey Pelisse
On returning home Felicity went to her room, opened the secret drawer and took out the black pouch containing the necklace. She gently removed it and let it ripple through her fingers, admiring the way the light caught the beautiful pear drop cut of the brilliant stones. It certainly was a lovely piece but as stolen contraband, it felt like fire figuratively scorching her hands. As she slipped the necklace back into its pouch, she felt a huge pang of guilt.
She was annoyed with herself, but she had to admit Emily had been so convincing. She had looked so distressed and Felicity was quite sure that her tears had been real. How she had achieved it, she did not know but oh, she had been thoroughly deceived. She must surely have been born for the theatre for Emily’s performance was deserving of Drury Lane. Worst of all and something Felicity could never forgive, was that Emily had been willing to involve Richard in her deception and the situation had escalated to the risk of his very life. She determined that if she ever met Emily Entwhistle again, she would give her one huge piece of her mind but meanwhile Felicity had to figure out a way of returning the necklace without anyone being the wiser.
She could admit everything and enlist the help of Richard, but dismissed the idea as soon as she thought it. Richard would be furious and rightly so, more so with the fact that she had put herself in danger. She could tell by his demeanour that he had not quite forgiven her for her trip to Hampstead Heath this morning. He may even send her packing back to Richmondshire, and a couple of days ago she would gladly have gone. Now curiously she wished to stay and suspected that it had much to do with the Marquis of Thorndale.
Richard could be depended on to remedy the matter but how? Knowing Richard, he might just take the simple approach. If he went straight to Thorndale and explained everything Felicity would be mortified and unable to look the Marquis in the face again. Moreover, intriguing as it was Felicity did not want Thorndale to think any worse of her than he must already do so. It did not occur to Felicity that Richard had an active imagination of his own, and in reality that was the last thing he would have done, but Felicity was always wont to solve her problems on her own. Her main consideration however was Richard’s temper. He had a placid nature and was not easily riled but he would certainly have something to say if he knew what she had done. No, it was best that he remained ignorant.
She toyed with the idea of sending the necklace by post but she could not conscientiously consider mailing such a valuable item. No, she needed to have confidence that it would arrive. Sending one of the footmen around to post it through Thorndale’s letterbox was another option but she was loath to involve any of her servants. What if by some elusive fate one of them was caught with the necklace on their person and hanged for it, she would never forgive herself. However, there was nothing stopping her going around herself and just posting it through the door with an anonymous letter of apology. Even this simple solution however posed its problems. If she went at night, which would have been the best option for anonymity, footpads may accost her again and this time she may not be so lucky. If she stopped to think about it, the confrontation with the footpad had shaken her more than she cared to admit. If thieves stole the necklace, it could be lost forever, let alone the risk to her own safety. No, she must go by herself during the day, and most definitely without the accompaniment of her maid.
Felicity got up off her bed and raked in the back of her wardrobe. She pulled out a mid grey pelisse. It was trimmed with silver grey fur around the collar, cuffs and hemline and fastened down the front with silver grey frogs. It had a matching fur trimmed hat and large fur muff. She had bought it two summers ago in preparation for the winter and instantly regretted it. She had fallen in love with the style but when she brought it home, the colour had not suited her. It had made her look washed out and pale so it had ended up in the back of her wardrobe unloved and unworn. She laid the pelisse on the bed and decided that it would suit her purpose admirably. It was rather heavy for a mild autumn day but none of her acquaintances was familiar with the coat and if she was heavily veiled no one would recognise her. She could return the necklace herself, simply by walking around to Green Street at a quiet time of day and post it through the letterbox. She would be happy in the knowledge that the necklace had been returned and no one would be any the wiser. What could be simpler?
Felicity sat down as her desk to write a note of accompaniment. She sat for a while and made many false starts, then dismissed them as unsatisfactory. In the end, she ended up with only two very short and simple lines.
Lord Thorndale. The enclosed necklace has come into my possession. I believe it belongs to you. I therefore have pleasure of returning it.
From one who wishes you well.
Felicity was satisfied, the note contained no falsehood, neither could it be said that it would provide the Marquis with any clues as to her identity. She wrapped the necklace in brown paper, tied it with string and put it back into her secret drawer for safety. All she needed now was the opportunity to slip out of the house unobserved and as the afternoon was well advanced, she realised that it would have to wait until tomorrow, for her mother was expecting her down in the drawing room to greet morning callers.
*****
Shortly after Richard and Felicity left Green Street, a note was delivered to Thorndale’s door. It was what he had been waiting for, news of the possible whereabouts of Adrian and Emily Entwhistle. A couple answering their description had been spotted at the Prospect of Whitby Inn in Wapping. Situated beside the Thames it had been a frequent meeting place for thieves and smugglers and had as little as 40 years ago been known as the Devils Tavern. The Tavern had been renamed after a square-rigged Vessel from Whitby. It had three masts and was often to be found moored outside the tavern. The owner hoped the new name would bring the tavern an air of respectability and mariners and trade merchants now mostly frequented it. The tavern was in the heart of the maritime district and away from the scrutiny of the ton. The Entwhistle’s should have been safe here but there was no accounting for the resourcefulness and unlimited means of Alex Sheraton. However, Thorndale had given them a reprieve and sent them on their way, so they had no particular reason to be wary.
The note did not actually say if the couple were lodging there but they had been spotted in the confines of the taproom. It was the kind of place that he would expect to find them. He would have to act quickly. He ordered his horse to be brought from the Mews and ran upstairs, where his Valet helped him quickly to change
into his riding jacket and boots. Within ten minutes of receiving the note, he was on his way and within thirty minutes, he had tied up his stallion outside of the Prospect and was entering the premises.
The tavern was typical of a mariner’s bar, decorated with ships fittings made out of brass. Chronometers, compasses and plaques displaying various nautical knots were displayed on the walls, and netting and lobster pots hung from the ceiling. The taproom was buzzing with the chatter of noisy sailors and Alex strained to look around them. He spotted what looked like two customs men sitting in one of the windows in their distinctive uniforms.
Alex was in luck; he spotted Adrian Entwhistle sitting alone in the far corner downing a mug of ale. He almost overlooked him because Entwhistle looked decidedly different. He had removed the spectacles that had made him look slow and dull witted and there was a sharpness about him. He had lost the self-deprecating and foppish manner he had previously projected and an air of self-assurance replaced it. His hair instead of being austerely plastered back was carefully arranged in the Titus, a style that miraculously made him look ten years younger. He was dressed respectably but not in the mode of the ton, as Alex had observed him to be at Lady Colchester’s ball. This man was surely a consummate actor. There was no sign of Emily, maybe she was resting in her room. Alex weaved his way through the throng of sailors to Entwhistle’s table.
He approached him, and pointed to a spare seat. ‘May I?’ he asked, but without waiting for a reply, he pulled out the chair and sat down. Entwhistle indicated to the seat as a token gesture but as Alex had already thrown his hat and gloves on the table it was immaterial. Entwhistle had recognised Thorndale straight away but made no sign of being particularly alarmed. He remained watchful and placed his ale down on the table, but he remained silent waiting for Thorndale to speak.
‘All right Entwhistle, where is it?’ he demanded.
Entwhistle looked genuinely surprised. ‘Where is what?’
‘The Stansfield necklace that you seem to have taken such a liking to, he snapped back.’
Entwhistle leaned back in his chair and casually looked the Marquis squarely in the face. ‘The last time I recall seeing that little beauty, it was adorning Emily’s neck at Lady Colchester’s ball. You must have a very poor memory. If you will recall you saw fit to retrieve your property in a most boorish manner.’
‘Do not play dangerous games with me Entwhistle if you value your hide. I have been generous with you but I would not lose sleep if I saw you hang. You paid me a visit the other night and took the necklace back. I have to admit, I would not have credited you with the daring.’
Entwhistle was dispassionate. ‘I hate to disappoint you your Lordship, but if you have been careless enough to have lost the necklace for a second time, it was not I who took it, neither was it Emily.’
Thorndale looked deep into Entwhistle’s eyes and then it struck him. They were a deep hazel brown and not the exquisite violet blue eyes of the man who hung perilously in his grasp from the balcony. Thorndale grabbed Entwhistle’s right wrist and roughly turned it over, trapping his arm with his wrist up on the tabletop and nearly upsetting his drink in the process. There was no scar and the bones of his slim hand were angular and less refined. Entwhistle was close to anger and wrested his wrist back from Thorndale’s loosened hold. ‘Take care my Lord, my patience is wearing thin.’
Thorndale picked up his hat and gloves and sighed. ‘You are fortunate Entwhistle for I believe you. I will take my leave.’ At that moment, he felt a delicate presence at his right shoulder and a familiar voice. ‘Sorry Adrian I did not know we had company.’ Thorndale turned around to see the diminutive frame of Emily Entwhistle. She froze when she realised who he was and was rendered speechless. Adrian looked at her. ‘Do not worry Emily, the Marquis is leaving.’
I must get a grip of myself the Marquis thought. The girl was certainly fetching but she was a devious, lying little piece. Thorndale got up and addressed Emily with a slight pang. ‘I thought I told you to leave London,’ he said harshly. Emily looked at him and panicked. ‘Oh indeed we are, tomorrow we are heading to Dover to catch the Paket to France.’
Her husband glared at her angrily. ‘Be quiet Emily, the Marquis is not interested in our destination. You may say goodbye.’
Thorndale nodded and took his leave but could not resist the temptation to look back. Emily was engaged in a heated argument with her husband. He could imagine what they were arguing about and caught a few words. Adrian’s voice echoed. ‘You little fool, why did you tell him where we are going? Do you not realise that a man of his stamp has acquaintances everywhere. You may as well kiss goodbye to rich pickings in Paris.’
Thorndale smiled and walked out into the fresh air. He must remember to pen a letter to his cousin in Paris to warn them of the two confidence tricksters who were on their way. The smile was short lived however, for if Adrian Entwhistle did not steal the necklace, then who did? He was back to square one. Who was the mysterious youth with the piercing violet blue eyes and the tell tale scar? He thought affectionately of his grandmother, the Lady in the portrait, she was still alive and had no idea that the necklace was missing. She was old but sprightly and he owed it to her to retrieve the necklace and preferably before she expressed the desire to wear it again.
******
The next morning Felicity arose early. She needed to accomplish her errand before the customary morning visits began and before people were out in numbers on the streets. She quickly put on the offending grey pelisse and hat, and then slipped her hands with the package into the fur muff.
She crept silently down into the hall opened the front door and escaped the house without notice. Thank goodness it was not raining. Not until she had stepped onto the street did she pull the heavy veil over her face. If she was quick, the errand need take no longer than 15 minutes and then she would be back home, mission accomplished with all her problems solved.
She only met two people on the way to Green Street, neither who paid her very much attention. This was fortunate, as the Lady in Park Lane was Mrs Eggleston, young James’s mother. She would have recognised Felicity in a trice and stopped to exchange pleasantries, no doubt curious as to why she was not accompanied by her maid. Felicity hurried past with her head down, made her way to Green Street and soon she reached Thorndale’s front door. She quickly looked around her relieved to observe that there was no one about. She had taken the package out of her muff and was just raising the flap of the letterbox, when the door suddenly opened before her. To Felicity’s extreme dismay, Alex Sheraton loomed up before her, simply but exquisitely clad and heading for an afternoon at Whites. He was dressed in a close fitting Jacket of blue superfine, cream breeches and top boots so polished you could have seen your face in them. Felicity gasped at the unexpected sight of him.
Thorndale stopped in surprise to find a strange woman on his doorstep and gave a roguish grin. ‘Madam, may I be of assistance.’ Felicity faltered not sure what to do. This unexpected scenario had not featured in her scheme. Thorndale stood waiting patiently for her to respond. She still had the package and note in her hand and almost reluctantly held it out to him. She endeavoured to disguise her voice with some success. ‘I have a delivery for the Marquis of Thorndale sir. Can you ensure he receives it?’
Alex keenly aware of the unusual situation took the package. ‘I am the Marquis,’ he replied, but this is most irregular. I normally receive my packages by post. Who pray are you?’
Felicity gave a dignified nod and maintained her feigned voice. ‘Just someone who wishes you well sir. I have accomplished my purpose and wish you a good day.’ She turned to leave but Thorndale was not going to make it so easy and grabbed her arm to detain her. He reached for her veil. She stepped suddenly back raising her other arm to fend him off. ‘No sir! If you are a gentleman you will leave well alone.’
Thorndale maintained his grip and laughed. ‘But I am not a gentleman my dear and I want to know who you are. Your mu
st acknowledge that your presence here on my doorstep is somewhat singular. You should know better than to call on a single gentleman without an escort. A Lady would not do such a thing and the circumstance intrigues me.’
Felicity baulked at the accusation. ‘But I am not calling on you sir. I am indeed a Lady and do not intend to enter your home. My sole purpose was to deliver the package. I was not expecting to meet you.’
Thorndale gave a wolfish grin and stepped even closer. ‘But now that you are here, I think you will come in just the same and perhaps explain yourself.’
Felicity decided her best form of defence was attack and she wrested her arm from his grip. ‘Sir you insult me. You accuse me of not being a Lady but you Your Lordship are no gentleman. You cannot fail to acknowledge your duel standards. I came with your interests at heart and I expect you to respect mine!’
Thorndale observed her curiously and glanced down at the package. He looked at the direction on the folded note and deliberated. Despite her actions, she certainly appeared to be a Lady, not one of the muslin company he had first suspected. Her pelisse was of the finest quality, obviously the work of an expensive mantua maker. He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. ‘Very well my dear. I shall thank you for your kind office and allow you to leave but let it be a lesson to you not to grace a single man’s doorstep unaccompanied.’
‘Believe me sir, I need no lesson,’ she snapped. ‘This is a singularly unusual circumstance and I shall not be repeating it!’
‘Well make sure you do not,’ he replied. He watched her as she abruptly turned and walked indignantly down the street. Her manner, bearing and deportment declared her very much a Lady and he was certainly curious as to who she was. There was no clue to her identity beneath her heavy veil but he had the vague impression that he had met her before. ‘Ah well,’ he sighed to himself. He was not so much of the rake that society had proclaimed him to be, more was the pity. Sometimes however he wished that he were, for it would have gone far to satisfy his curiosity. He had to admit that life was certainly full of surprises.
Lady Ellingham and the Theft of the Stansfield Necklace: A Regency Romance Page 7