“Have two men guard the house. Keep everyone in it inside. I want it intact when the Investigators get there.”
“Yes Sergeant. I'll send a runner up to the Investigations Office, too?”
“Already done, I suspect?” The Sergeant looked at Lizzy, who nodded slightly. She'd sent a messenger as soon as she'd left Caro.
“They're probably already in Dorathea Street; you'd better send the wagon along.”
The Sergeant nodded and returned to his task, “Mr John Twerps and Mr Marshall Fosset, I'm arresting you for aiding and abetting the illegal indenturing of children, being party to abuse of minors and to the running of an unlicensed brothel. You do not have to say anything, anything you do say will be taken down and used in evidence before the magistrates. Corporal, remove these men.”
Three Watchmen manhandled to notaries out of their office and into the cage on the back of a heavy wagon outside. As they were scuffling out another knock shuddered on the door. Two women, in smart dark blue dresses entered. The Investigators had arrived.
“My Lady, your message arrived.” Investigator Murphy, well known to Lizzy, saluted, “The Duke is rather perturbed that you are involving yourself in these matters. You should have come to us with your evidence.”
“And if she had Maggie Richards would have got away with another crime.”
“Am I missing something?” Lizzy looked between the officers.
“You just happened to stumble into a crime ring we've been trying to take down for years.” Investigator Murphy sighed, “Every time we get close we lose our grip on her. Everyone is scared to talk.”
“Nasty piece of work.” Sergeant Tailor concurred, “There's rumours of beaten girls but we couldn't get any evidence to arrest her.”
“And yet I managed to. Did anyone think to just ask?”
“We tried, the girls clammed up. How did you run across her?” The second Investigator asked. Lizzy had never seen this one before. There was something sharp about her eyes.
“I needed a housekeeper for my dressmaker.”
“Johnson, you will find Lady Fitzroy has an uncanny knack of finding the information we need. It's almost magic.”
“Magic is an abomination.” The new Investigator scowled.
Lizzy sighed inwardly, her 'skill' wasn't magic, magic didn't exist. She was just clumsy. “Murphy is of course speaking metaphorically. Everyone knows there's no such thing as magic; it's superstitious nonsense.”
“The Curates teach otherwise.”
“I know. That doesn't make it true.”
“Assistant Investigator Johnson, start with those files.” Murphy interrupted before the conversation went any further. She pointed to the cabinets behind the desk formerly belonging to Mr Fosset. “My lady, if you are finished here I would prefer it if you returned to the Palace.”
“I need the contract of indenture for Sandra.”
“Who?”
“The housekeeper?”
“Oh yes, I see. You won't be keeping her on though?”
“Probably not. There must be a school she can go to. All of Maggie Richards' girls are going to need rehousing and educating.”
“You've found yourself a project then. That should keep you out of trouble for a while, you're giving his Grace grey hairs.”
“He's had them for years. You have met the twins, haven't you?”
“Of course.”
“Then you know that compared to them I'm a little angel.”
“You really are not.” Murphy laughed while Sergeant Tailor grinned.
“I have to find that indenture though. And you need this.” Lizzy fished the letter out of her bag.
“Where did this come from?”
“It was on this desk,” Lizzy tapped the cracked wood, “when I got here. It must be evidence of something. Prior knowledge maybe?”
“Indeed. Sergeant if you'd stay to assist? I'd like men to investigate this building from cellar to attic.”
Lizzy realised she'd been dismissed and stood. “Well, now I've got your job started for you I'll be getting back. You might want to send someone up to Caro's to interview the girl and Caro. Caro was witness to the girl's story.”
“We sent someone there as some as we got your message. I'm not joking about the Duke; he really needs to see you at the Office as soon as possible.” Murphy looked back over her shoulder.
“Well, I suppose then there’s nothing for me to do except answer the summons. And I really wanted to get my dress started.” Lizzy sighed, grinned and left for the Office.
Chapter 12
“Are you even a little jealous that they got all the credit?” Alex asked his cousin as they watched the ceremony, there to show their appreciation for the work of the gallant officers of the law.
“Not particularly; Murphy and Tailor found more than enough evidence at the notaries and in Dorathea Street. All I did was find them a way in. Anyway, Father doesn't want people to know.”
“Really?”
Lizzy shrugged, “Maybe a little bit. Like I said, Father didn’t want people to know. And it would be petty”
Alex nodded, “And you can’t be seen to be petty. Did Caro ever make your dress?” He changed the subject.
“I'm going to collect it later. You have got a new suit, haven't you?”
Alex grinned, “Of course; it’s green silk, from Belenos.”
“Mother's glaring at us.” Lawrence nudged his brother
They looked over at the Duchess, falling silent. There were speeches, of course, about civic duty, another by the new High Curate about treating the lower orders decently. The new High Curate rambled on; he had droning voice that sent Lizzy into a trance. She found herself covering a yawn as her eyes fluttered closed, earning another glare from her aunt. The Curate looked at her, a slightly hurt expression rumpling his beard. He coughed and continued.
It had been decided that Lizzy's part in the arrest of the people traffickers should be kept out of the papers. The Daily had covered the story in detail, praising the Investigations Office and the Watch for their undercover work and the officers involved were pronounced heroes for rescuing thirty-five women and seventy children from slavery.
Lizzy was nudged out of her daze by Alex at the end of the speeches; the King had risen from his throne and waved her forward. Lizzy looked at her uncle, who grinned and shrugged. She stepped towards the dais, a puzzled frown creasing her forehead.
“Today we not only honour these Officers for their lifesaving work; we are also celebrating the coming of age of my daughter, Elizabeth. Twenty-one years ago today I became a father for the first time, and after all the trials and tribulations of those years, I have decided that her Coming of Age gift should acknowledge my love and devotion to her. With that in mind, I am adopting my daughter. Henceforth, Lady Elizabeth Fitzroy will be known as Her Royal Highness, Princess Elizabeth of Albon.”
There was a smattering of applause, with cheering from her friends and family. Lady Mary Val, Elizabeth's mother, cried out in shock. Lizzy hadn't even realised her mother had arrived at the Palace. She turned to help her step-father, Sir Philip, with Lady Mary, but her waved her away. Around the hall whispers broke out among shocked courtiers; the Sumoast Ambassadors stood but were waved back into their seats by the neighbouring Umari Ambassador, Greta Van Smelt. Lizzy heard her fierce whispering, silencing the outraged Sumoasti.
Lizzy blinked back tears as her father held his hands out to her. Shaking, she mounted the dais and took the throne next to her father. The boys, Michael and John, grinned happily, bouncing in their seats. Lizzy heard a rustle behind her and turned, the High Curate stood behind her throne, holding a light coronet. It had belonged to her great aunt and namesake. Now the High Curate placed it on her own head. He read out the official adoption record, as entered in the Roles, and presented the new princess with her signet ring. She looked at the ring in confusion then slowly reached out to take it from the High Curate. It slipped on to her finger with ease. Lizzy sat back and smi
led slightly.
The courtiers, led by her uncle and aunt, approached the dais to congratulate her. She nodded and smiled but it was all rather a blur. Lizzy sat in stunned silence, the voices around her drowned by the pounding of blood in her ears; her eyes became cloudy and her head felt full of wool. She tried to speak, to thank her father, but no words would pass her lips.
“Bit unexpected?” King John whispered to Lizzy.
She nodded in response.
“Well, had to do something. I would've adopted you years ago, but Jocinta objected.”
“She's gone now.” Lizzy felt as though her voice was drifting to them from far away, it didn't belong to her.
“Don't know how long for, but there's nothing she can do about it. I've had your adoption papers ratified by the KC, the CC and the Moot. Can't argue with that, can she?” Her father smiled indiscriminately at their well-wishing courtiers, even those officially in disgrace for being associated with the plot to kill Lizzy.
The last people to approach the thrones was the Sumoasti ambassadorial party; they looked less than happy. They ambassador, a cousin of Queen Jocinta's bowed to King John.
“Your Majesty, my I extend my High Lord's congratulations to your Officers; they do a great service to your nation.”
“Indeed they have done; we hope to see through reforms, after the summer recess of the Moot, regarding indentured service. The notorious Richards ring will help us make the case for its abolition, I'm sure.”
“I wish you success.”
The ambassador turned to leave but was stopped when his host spoke.
“Doesn't my daughter look well? It's such a pleasure to be able to give her this gift.”
“I'm sure Lady Elizabeth looks lovely.”
“Princess.”
“Of course, a slip of the tongue your majesty. Do forgive me Your Highnesses. I shall send the news to my High Lord at once. I'm sure he will wish to send his congratulations.”
“Well, you can if you want. I don't see how it's really Tarjan's business.”
“The Queen?”
“Will find out soon enough.”
“I see.” The ambassador bowed again and returned to his seat.
“That wasn't wise, was it?”
“Bating the Sumoasti? No, father, it probably wasn't.”
“High Lord Holmgard is just looking for an excuse to start a war with us. Did we just give him one?”
“I don't think so; but it won't help. He already thinks that you've slighted his granddaughter by sending her to Tarjan indefinitely.”
“It's not indefinite, just until she learns some sense.”
“We should have sent her to Umar then.”
“On what grounds? No, visiting her family is much more acceptable than exile.”
“I hate politics already.”
“You've been playing politics for years; it's not a game anymore and you can't back out.”
“I suppose not. Game or not, I have things to do.”
“The children?”
“Yes, we need to set up a school for those unfortunates. And a refuge for the women. They can't go on living in the Watch Houses.”
“Well then, announce it. You have full control of your fortune now.”
“Right now?”
“Yes. Start as you mean to go on, girl. And then get your dressmaker up here. We've got a party to prepare for.”
“Yes father.”
Lizzy stood and waited for the silence. She thanked people for their well wishes and added her own thanks to the Officers of the Watch and Investigations for their work, before announcing the founding of a school for those children who had escaped indentured service, and a refuge for the women. There was further polite clapping as Lizzy returned to her throne.
Chapter 13
“So now what?” Lizzy shifted from one foot to the other as she stood for her dress fitting.
“What do you mean Lizzy?”
Caro made the last tiny adjustments to the long tunic dress, fitting it perfectly around Lizzy's bust and hips.
“Well, what does father expect me to do now he's officially adopted me and I'm a princess.”
“Act like one?” Caro shrugged; her friend was complaining when she should be celebrating
Lizzy sighed, “It's so much easier being a bastard. I could come and go whenever, now everyone will know who I am.”
“Darling everyone knows who you are as it is. You've hardly kept a low profile.”
“I don't want things to change,”
“Coward. You’re being ungrateful.”
“I am not!”
“Yes you are, you're so frightened of responsibility that this honour from your father is a burden to you. You are young, wealthy and influential; think how much good you could do. You own the only newspaper in Albon.”
“That's not technically true. I own fifty-one percent of it.”
“Well, and so? The rest is owned by the twins. You have a voice. You want to change things here, don't you? Well, now you can.”
There was a knock at the door, interrupting the conversation.
“Come in.”
“Are you decent?” It was Lawrence.
“Of course.”
The door opened and the twins trooped in, dressed in their finest suits. Lizzy looked them over and sighed. Someone really did need to tidy them up.
“Alex, why are you wearing a lime green tie?”
“It matches your dress.”
“But not your waistcoat.” The waistcoat was embroidered with flowers in a riot of pastel colours. “Caro, do something with them.”
“I haven't got time. I really don't understand the fashion for dressing like peacocks.”
“We feel like it. Plus, the traditionalists would prefer everyone in black.”
“It's a political statement.” Alex slumped on to the sofa, crossing his legs at the ankles, showing hideous socks as his trousers rode up above his black dancing shoes, polished to a high shine.
“It's also a statement that you have no concept of refined taste.”
Lizzy laughed at Caro's observations; as fond as she was of the young woman, Lizzy often found Caro to be a little conservative, and snobbish at times. The twins looked fairly tidy, even if their ties were a little loud. For once they had even washed their hair, and brushed it.
“Well, are we ready to go?” Alex shifted around the room.
“I'm just finishing this hem,” Caro said from her knees, “then you can go and enjoy yourselves.”
“Aren't you coming Caro? Lizzy, you did invite her didn't you?” Lawrence asked, a wrinkle of confusion on his face.
“Of course I did.” Lizzy looked down at Caro “I thought you were going to the ball?”
“I can't; it wouldn't be right.”
“Nonsense. You've been my friend for six years, of course you should come.”
“She's right, you know, Caro.”
“Well, when it was just a few of us at the Residence I didn't mind going, but I can hardly come to a royal ball, can I?”
“I don't see why not? It's my party and I'll invite whoever I want.”
Caro sighed, “I'm not getting out of this am I?”
“No.”
“You do realise I have work to do don't you?”
“New commission?”
“Yes, your friends all want dresses like yours. The long tunic dress has become the fashion item of the season. And since no one knows how to make them except me, I’m really busy.”
Caro’s ‘dresses’ were a full, pleated skirt under a contrasting three quarter sleeve tunic top. Lizzy tended to wear hers with trousers rather than a skirt. When she wasn't wearing a shirt. Women traditionally wore subdued, long-sleeved and full skirted dresses, requiring a corset and multiple underskirts. The arrival from Umar of boneless bust supports (a sort of vest tailored to support the female breast) had radicalised women's fashions. Lizzy had been an early adopter of the garment; it had caused quite the stir at
court.
“See, I knew setting you up as my personal dressmaker would work.”
“I need extra help. I was going to ask Sandra if she wanted to learn basic skills, putting the skirt waistbands and collars on.”
“Doesn't she have to learn it all at the Guild?”
“Only if she wants to set up as a seamstress herself. She can't for another couple of years yet anyway.”
“Well, see if she wants to; she's still living with you, isn't she?”
“Yes, and still keeps trying to be my housekeeper. I've told her she's too young to be working and that you're giving me an allowance to educate her.”
“She must find it very strange.” Alex said from his seat.
“How so?”
“Well, so far she hasn't had a particularly easy life and then suddenly a princess is paying for her education and she lives with a respected dressmaker.”
“Bit of a shock to the system.” Lawrence explained
“I see what you mean.” Lizzy tried to step down from the stool. She was stopped by a yank to her clothes.
“Lizzy, stand still or your hem will be wonky.”
“Is this going to take much longer?”
“Almost done. There. Last little bead on.”
“Give us a twirl, cuz.”
Lizzy was finally able to step down from the stool. She slid her feet into soft grey leather slippers and danced around them all, laughing. The grey silk of her tunic dress floated around her knees. Slit up to her hips, with a contrasting green underskirt, and drawn in beneath her bust, the dress accentuated her figure while releasing her from the confines of traditional Albonese ball dresses.
“Very pretty. Makes a change from men's clothes.”
“Aunt insisted I wear a dress for my Ball, she didn't specify the exact pattern.”
“I don't think she meant you to wear an extended shirt though.”
Caro harrumphed in irritation. Lizzy had insisted on a rational garment that allowed her ease of movement, so she'd based it on the thigh length tunic tops she liked to wear, made longer, with capped sleeves.
Lizzy turned to hug her friend, “It's perfect, if I have to wear a dress. Are you sure you won't come?”
Hidden Fire (The FIRE series Book 1) Page 7