by Candace Camp
“Precisely. My bet would be on Miss Halford.”
Genevieve nodded. “She is the one who has benefited from the incident. There are rumors flying around that the two of them will soon be engaged. And she would have noticed that Langdon was always hanging about, making a nuisance of himself. Well, well . . .” Genevieve leaned back against him. “Interesting. One feels one should do something to retaliate.”
“Mm. Particularly when one is a Stafford,” Myles added, idly rubbing her arm.
“I haven’t any idea what I would do to her, though. Miss Halford is welcome to Dursbury; marrying that dull fish should be punishment enough for anyone. I don’t like to be the subject of gossip, but, aside from that, I have been the real beneficiary of her scheme.”
“Have you?” Myles hand went still on her arm, and Genevieve felt the sudden tension in him, though she was not sure why.
“Why, yes.” Genevieve kept her voice light, not wanting to make a misstep, as she slipped her hand in under his robe and glided it over his chest. “I have found out several interesting things.” Her forefinger circled his nipple teasingly as she leaned closer, her lips almost touching his ear. “The first being that Grandmama was very, very wrong about the duties of the marital bed.”
She felt his body relax, and he nuzzled her neck, pulling the loose knot of her sash apart and parting her dressing gown. “Then let us see what else I can teach you.”
Life, Genevieve decided, had become pleasant once again. Or, really, if she thought about it, life was more pleasant than she could remember it ever being. She did not mind not attending as many parties; indeed, she looked forward to staying at home with Myles. It was a bit shocking how much she enjoyed being with Myles and how often she thought of him when he was not around. How everything inside her seemed to turn warm and liquid whenever Myles walked into a room. Now and then she told herself that she was becoming like Damaris, utterly enthralled by her husband, but she could not find it in herself to care.
A few days later, Lady Julia came to town, bringing with her not only Nell but also Myles’s oldest sister, Amelia, who had decided to leave most of her brood in the care of their father and governess, taking only the youngest, along with his nurse. Amelia, Myles told Genevieve in an aside, could not bear not to be in charge of whatever was going on, but Genevieve could not help but be touched by her unexpected support. Genevieve was even more pleased to see Nell, as was Xerxes, who leapt into Nell’s arms with a most unusual lack of dignity.
The girl laughed and scratched the cat behind the ears, then began to chatter to Genevieve about the trip, her first to London. She was eager to see all the sights, especially Astley’s Amphitheatre and the lions at the Tower, to both of which, Genevieve assured her, Myles would be pleased to escort them.
While the three of them spent the next afternoon, as promised, visiting the Tower, Lady Julia and Amelia called on Julia’s friend Lady Penbarrow. The following day Lady Penbarrow and Myles’s mother whisked Genevieve off to visit Lady Penbarrow’s aunt, the Duchess of Terwyck. The duchess, a rather formidable woman of advancing years, was one of the pillars of English society. Disdainful of the current fashions, she wore her snow-white hair up in an intricate and towering arrangement—though, thankfully, she left it unpowdered—and her dresses still had the lower waists and wider skirts popular fifteen years earlier.
She was in many ways the opposite of Genevieve’s own grandmother, for she reveled in being considered an eccentric and cared not a whit what anyone else thought of her. However, she had a towering pride similar to the Countess of Rawdon’s, and she cared for nothing as much as family. Luckily, the duchess extended her definition of family to include her niece’s lifelong friend Lady Thorwood and, by extension, any member of Lady Thorwood’s family. Therefore, she invited Genevieve and Lady Julia to tea and even took them along with her to an exceedingly boring lecture on the various important families of Norfolk, among which the Duke of Terwyck’s family held the central place.
As intended, this sign of the duchess’s favor quickly brought a number of other ladies back to paying calls on Genevieve, and her social life picked up. It even, Genevieve found with a notable lack of pleasure, caused Lady Dursbury to pay them a visit. Genevieve would have escaped Elora’s visit if she had been able, but unfortunately she was absorbed in helping Nell pick out a tangle in her embroidery thread and was not aware of the woman’s arrival until Bouldin announced her.
“Lady Thorwood, I am pleased beyond words to meet you,” Elora gushed to Myles’s mother. “And this young lady must be Myles’s sister.” She patted on Nell on the head, which Genevieve was certain set Nell’s back up, though Elora was blissfully unaware of that, turning to Amelia to fawn over her, as well.
No doubt Elora hoped to bring about a favorable report of her to Myles, Genevieve thought sourly. The best thing about the past few days had been not having to see Lady Dursbury flirting with Genevieve’s husband.
Elora wasted no time in plunging into Genevieve’s problems. “You must have been so shocked, Lady Thorwood, as was I, to hear of the rumors about Lady Genevieve. Of course, anyone who knows her, as I do, would never believe such a thing of her. I trust you will endeavor to pay them no attention whatsoever.”
If Elora had hoped to be urged to expound on these problems, she had little success, for Lady Julia simply smiled. “Indeed. I do not acknowledge such unfounded nonsense. Do you live in London year-round, Lady Dursbury?”
“Yes, since the death of my dear husband. While he was alive, we spent most of our time at home on his estate. I have not had the fortitude to go back there yet because of the memories.”
“Ah, of course. I have always found I am comforted by my memories of my husband.”
“Indeed. Indeed.” Elora nodded. “No doubt in a bit, when the pain has faded.” She smiled wistfully and turned to Nell. “And you, my dear, are you enjoying your visit to London?”
“Oh, yes. We’ve been to the Tower, and Myles has promised to take us to a show at Astley’s. One of the maids said that Bartholomew Fair is in town the next few days, and it has amazing things to see. There are wire walkers and jugglers and puppet shows, as well as a man who swallows swords. But I have not convinced Genevieve to take me,” she added regretfully.
“Oh, my! I have not dared to go myself,” Elora said. “No doubt you will think me a poor thing indeed, but I am certain it would be much too exciting for me. I have heard that women have fainted from the suspense in the theatricals.”
“Really?” Nell looked doubtful. “I wouldn’t faint.”
“No, I am sure you would not. But you must not go to it alone, you know,” Elora added needlessly, since Nell had not suggested that she was about to. “ ’Twould be most naughty. And I am sure you would find it much too shocking for one of your tender years.”
Elora could not have said anything more likely to make Nell determined to go the fair, Genevieve thought with disgust. Now Genevieve would have to wheedle Myles into taking her and Nell, for Nell would be obsessed with it. Genevieve had little interest in going, but she had to admit, with an inner smile, that she would not mind convincing Myles to escort them.
Genevieve lifted the curtain a fraction and peered out the carriage window. The street in front of the print shop was quiet today. As the days had passed with nothing to show for it, she and Myles had gradually stopped keeping an eye on the visitors to the newspaper, especially now that her social duties had picked up. But this morning, feeling restless after Myles had left the house, Genevieve decided to spend an hour or two by herself in the carriage, keeping watch.
Genevieve sat a little straighter as a woman came into view, walking toward Genevieve’s vehicle. Something about her was faintly familiar. When she turned into the print shop, Genevieve’s interest was piqued even more. Picking up the collapsible spyglass Myles had left in the side pocket of the carriage after their earlier expeditions, she pulled it out full length. As the door to the shop opened again, Genevi
eve put the glass to her eye and trained it on the door.
The woman stepped out of the shop and glanced down the street before turning away and starting back in the direction she had come. Genevieve stared after her, her heart racing. She was positive that was the woman who had run from her and Damaris and Thea. The maid who had given Genevieve the false note from Myles.
Genevieve leaned out the carriage window and called up to their driver, “Follow that woman. There, in the brown dress.”
He lifted his hat in acknowledgment and called to the boy to release the team’s heads, then started forward. He kept a slow pace, maintaining a distance behind the woman, though once or twice he had to pull the horses to a halt to let her get ahead again. Genevieve’s mind raced, wondering what she should do when the woman reached her destination. If Genevieve got out to confront her, she might well run again, and while this time Genevieve felt sure her vehicle would not desert her, it was not always easy for a carriage and team to follow a person, particularly if they wound up in the narrow, crooked streets of some of the older parts of the city.
The woman got on an omnibus, and the carriage rolled after it. Genevieve hoped the driver would be able to maintain his view of the woman. To her surprise, the carriage headed toward Mayfair. She reasoned that the woman had probably gotten employment again in the area. The woman exited the omnibus and began to walk up the street toward a small, unenclosed park, where she turned in. The driver passed the park, pulling to a stop just beyond the entrance. Genevieve lifted the curtain a crack and peered through it. The maid walked over to a bench, where another woman sat. The woman on the bench lifted her head.
Genevieve’s jaw dropped. She knew that woman. It was Miss Halford’s personal maid.
So it had been Iona Halford who had arranged for Genevieve’s problems! It made sense, and though Genevieve would once have said the girl was too meek to do something so outrageous, she had seen the fire Iona was capable of bringing up where Lord Dursbury was concerned. The young lady who had accosted her in Gunter’s might well be capable of setting out to ruin Genevieve.
Genevieve waited as the two women talked briefly. Iona’s maid handed the other girl a small pouch and a folded note, both of which she quickly pocketed. Then both women left the park, the woman Genevieve had followed turning to go back the way she had come, and Iona’s abigail walking quickly toward Genevieve’s carriage, her head down.
Genevieve opened the door and slipped out of her carriage. When the maid grew close, Genevieve stepped directly into her path. Startled, the girl raised her head and came to a halt, eyes widening. Whipping around, the girl took off at a run.
Genevieve ran after her. If this chase came to light, her grandmother would flay her alive, but Genevieve was not about to let this opportunity slip out of her fingers. Lifting her skirts almost to her knees, she pounded down the sidewalk, her much longer legs eating up the distance between them. Behind her, the coachman made a startled noise and the carriage began to rumble down the street after her.
Genevieve was afraid she would have to launch herself at the girl and send them into an undignified heap on the ground, but the maid made the mistake of glancing back at Genevieve, and she caught her foot on a paving stone and went tumbling to the ground.
Genevieve was on her in an instant, wrapping her hand around the girl’s arm and yanking her to her feet. “Oh!” Genevieve exclaimed loudly, in case anyone was watching. “What a nasty fall you took. Here, let me help you.”
“Let go of me!” The maid twisted and jerked, but she could not break Genevieve’s hold. “Why’re you chasing me? I din’t do nothing wrong.” Her voice settled into a whine.
“Really? Then why did you run?” Genevieve cast a glance around and saw that they were still alone on the street except for her driver, so she dropped her pretense of help and said harshly, “Don’t even think of running. Now, get in the carriage. If you tell me what I want to know, I won’t hurt you.”
After a last desperate look up the street, the girl slumped and went to the carriage, her hands clenching together. Genevieve pushed her in and climbed in behind her.
“You are Miss Halford’s maid, isn’t that right?”
The other girl nodded. “Yes, miss.”
“What’s your name?”
The girl looked troubled, but she finally mumbled, “Tansy Mullins, miss.”
“All right, Tansy. I think you know what I want to learn from you.”
“I can’t tell you, miss. I swear I can’t. She’ll turn me out without a recommendation.” Tears welled in the girl’s eyes.
“Miss Halford need not know I heard it from you,” Genevieve told her encouragingly.
“Miss Halford!” The girl let out a harsh laugh. “I’m not talking about Miss Iona. It’s her ladyship!”
Genevieve stiffened. “Do you mean Lady Dursbury? Elora?”
“Of course, miss! You don’t think it’d be Miss Iona who’d do such things!”
“What things?” Genevieve asked quickly.
“No, miss, please don’t ask me. I can’t! You don’t know what she’s like!”
“I think I have a fairly good idea,” Genevieve said drily. “But it is Miss Halford for whom you work. You said she’s not like Elora. Surely she won’t turn you out for telling me.”
“Oh, no, miss, it’s her ladyship as hired me, not Miss Iona. Miss Iona was his lordship’s ward, and it was her ladyship set me up as Miss Iona’s abigail.”
“Still, I think it must be Miss Halford who pays you. She would not allow Lady Dursbury to let you go.”
“She wouldn’t go against her ladyship.” Tansy shook her head vehemently. “She never would.”
“Well, there is no need for either one of them to know.” Genevieve decided to try a different tack. “I certainly won’t tell them where I got the information.”
“But she’ll know! I know she will!”
Genevieve felt a pang of sympathy for the girl, who looked stricken with fear. However, she could not let pity get the better of her. Right now she had to be a Stafford through and through. She straightened to her full height and fixed the maid with the full force of her icy gaze. “Do you know who I am, Tansy?”
“Yes, miss.” She nodded. “You’re the lady what was going to marry his lordship.”
“I am far more than that. I am Lady Genevieve Thorwood, and my brother is the Earl of Rawdon. We are not a pleasant lot to cross. My ancestors used to put their enemies to the sword, and I can promise you that if you do not tell me what I want to know, I will make certain you regret it for the rest of your life.”
Tansy gulped, staring at her with wide eyes.
Genevieve relaxed a little and smiled, offering the maid the carrot after the stick. “Now, Tansy, I assure you that I can find you another position. My grandmother and I know a great many women who are frequently hiring new maids. If you want to leave that house, whether Lady Dursbury discovers you told me or not, I will see that you get hired somewhere else. In the meantime”—Genevieve reached into her reticule and withdrew her coin purse, holding up a bright gold coin—“I can give you something to ease your way.”
Tansy’s eyes grew as large as the coin in Genevieve’s hand. She looked from it to Genevieve, clearly torn between hope and fear. “Oh, miss . . . do you mean it?”
“I do indeed.” Genevieve held out the coin to her.
Tansy chewed at her lower lip, looking away from the lure of the gold and then back. Finally, she reached out and grabbed the coin, sticking it inside her shirt in a furtive motion.
“Did Lady Dursbury hire the other girl as well? The one you just met in the park?” Genevieve hoped that a question a bit removed from the maid herself might get her talking.
“Yes, miss.” Tansy nodded. “That’s Hattie, me cousin. Her ladyship asked me to find another girl, someone working at the Morecombes’, so I sent Hattie to try to get hired on for the party, see. I figured she might as well make the money as anybody else.”
/> “But why did Elora use you? Why not her own maid?”
“Her? She’s a foreigner. French, now, isn’t she? She don’t know anybody round here. Won’t even talk to the rest of us, thinks she’s too good. And her ladyship knew she could get me to do it. She—she’s been having me spy on Miss Iona ever since she hired me.”
“Spy on Miss Halford? But why?”
“I dunno.” Tansy shrugged. “She never does anything her ladyship don’t already know about. Miss Iona’s under that one’s thumb, isn’t she, just like the rest of the house. So I never had to tell her nothing that . . . that hurt Miss Iona, really. I just told her how Miss Iona moons about over his lordship and how she worries about what to do about this or that. Or what hat Miss Iona admired in the milliner’s window. Like that. Then maybe her ladyship’ll buy that hat for Miss Iona, make her grateful to her. Like her ladyship knows her so well and is so kind and all. And if she knows Miss Iona’s scared of something, then her ladyship uses it, you know, to get Miss Iona to do something she wants.”
“How diabolical!”
“How what?” Tansy looked at Genevieve blankly.
“How cruel.”
“Yes’m, she is.”
“So she hired you to do this thing to me because she was already using you.”
Tansy snorted. Now that she had gotten started, she seemed eager to talk, the words rolling out with the force of long-held resentment. “She didn’t hire me. Not that one. She don’t pay me extra; I don’t make as much as that fancy French maid of hers. She knows I won’t quit—where would I go? If I don’t do what she wants, she’ll tell Miss Iona how I’ve been spying on her for years, and she’ll let me go. She won’t give me a recommendation. More than that, her ladyship will tell any other lady that hired me that I was wicked, that I stole from her and such. She told me she would. Whenever I balk at doing something she wants, that’s what she says. I daren’t not do it. Miss Iona’d be that hurt, and she’d hate me. She wouldn’t keep her from tossing me out.”