by Lisa Boero
“A logical conclusion, I grant you. But the ton lives on debt in a way that you and I as country gentlewomen would find abhorrent. Even if money is to hand, they often will not pay their bills.”
“Perhaps, but then Madame Longet would not be so eager to cut off an influential client. No, I feel the Levanwoods are in deeper than they would ever admit to you or me. Although, I do wonder how Cousin Bella managed to get Madame Longet to extend her credit for the dress she wore tonight and why the marquess let her give a ball in the first place. Then again, I suppose the ball had to be done or I might take offense, and that would not suit their purpose.”
“Which is?”
“Did it not strike you as odd that persons who slighted me at my marriage now suddenly welcome my company?”
“Circumstances are different. Your position as a baronet’s widow and the mother of the heir renders you entirely eligible for polite society.”
“Yes, but this society? No Jane, it is too convenient. I am sure that Bella means to have me marry Charles, and I would imagine that the entrance on the scene of the Duke of Norwich has merely complicated matters.”
The next morning, despite a great desire to sleep in, Althea arose with the birds yet again. She traveled down to the garden. After reviewing the insect depredations on the raven’s corpse, she made her way back through the quiet house. It seemed clear that the servants were the only other persons ready to greet the day. The breakfast room was empty except for a kitchen maid who asked if she preferred chocolate or coffee. Althea chose chocolate and then served herself a fried egg.
She had just raised a forkful of egg to her mouth when she heard a sudden commotion coming from the hall. Althea got up and went to the door. The sound of running footsteps and hushed conversations were followed suddenly by the wail of someone crying. She flung the door wide and encountered a young housemaid frozen in place, her face white except for her bright red cheeks. She looked at Althea with a pair of large, frightened eyes and then put her hands over her eyes and sobbed.
“What, pray tell, is the matter?” Althea said.
The maid seemed incapable of speech.
“Come child, I don’t bite. Is everything all right?”
The maid shook her head and continued to cry.
“Oh dear. I’m sure we’ll set it all to rights. Come in here and tell me all about it.” Althea took her arm and guided her into the breakfast parlor and shut the door behind her. Althea was sure that fraternizing with servants would not raise her social standing in London, but she did not hesitate to guide the maid to a chair and offer her a cup of cocoa from the pot. The poor girl looked positively wretched.
“Now drink some cocoa and stop crying long enough to tell me what’s wrong.”
The girl made a valiant effort to pull herself together, and then the words poured out like water. “The diamonds. Buxton done told me how to put them in the box just right. And I did, just like she told me to. Her ladyship even watched me do it, but Buxton don’t believe me. She says I must have done something wrong and put them in the wrong place or worse, but, milady, I didn’t. The case was open when I went in to see if her ladyship wished for something hot to drink. And the necklace was just gone. And now they’ve gone to wake the master and he’ll be in a terrible rage and turn me off without a reference or send me to the noose. But you have to believe me. My mother raised me God-fearing, and I’d never do such a thing, no matter what. I’m no thief!” She burst into another round of lusty tears.
“Pull yourself together,” Althea said gently. “I’m sure no one thinks you stole anything. Just tell me again what you did last night with the necklace.”
The maid hiccupped. “I put it back in its case just like her ladyship told me to. Then I closed the case and locked it. Her ladyship told me to leave it on her dressing table, so I did. I helped her ladyship dress for the night and get into bed. Then I drew the curtains round the bed and blew out the candle.”
Before Althea could reply, the door swung open, revealing the imposing figure of Mrs. Buxton. “There you—” She stopped and looked at Althea. “Lady Trent. Oh my!”
Althea intervened. “Mrs. Buxton, I hear the house is in some confusion this morning. Lady Levanwood has misplaced her necklace?”
“Yes, Lady Trent. We are searching for it now.” Buxton looked at the maid. “Mary, you are wanted upstairs.”
“I don’t know that Mary will be much help in this case. I rather suspect that it is not lost. In fact, someone knows exactly where it is. Has Bow Street been called?”
“Not yet. Lord Levanwood ordered a search of the house first.”
“By all means, but let us not lose precious time. Was the lock on the case broken?”
Mrs. Buxton nodded. “The lock was forced open.”
“Um. However, I still think that this may be the work of the Richmond Thief. And if that is the case, Mary will be of no use to anyone either here or upstairs.”
Two hours later, the marquess must have decided to agree with Althea’s assessment because Althea saw an underservant slip out through the back garden and run off down the street. By noon, Althea heard the door open and voices in the hall. She caught the low rumble of Magistrate Read. “Ah yes, I fully comprehend. If your lordship would be so kind as to give me the use of a room, I may begin the interviews while my principal officers, Mr. Standon and Mr. Lavender, commence a search of the premises.”
Not wanting to cause further inconvenience, Althea repaired to her room, but she noted in passing that the hall seemed strangely full of flowery bouquets. Those couldn’t really be for her, could they?
Half an hour later, Sally rapped softly at her door. “Mistress, there’s a gentleman in the red salon what desires to speak with you.” Sally’s eyes were wide with excitement. Certainly, they had never had cause to summon Bow Street to Dettamoor Park.
“Thank you. I will be down directly.”
Mr. Read was leaning against a marble fireplace when Althea entered, staring down into the newly banked fire as if searching for answers, his hand working at the crumpled folds of his cravat.
“Ahem.” Althea gently cleared her throat.
Mr. Read looked up with a start. “Oh, Lady Trent, I did not hear you come in.”
“My father always likened me to a cat.”
Read smiled. “An admirable quality.” He gestured at one of the chairs pulled up to the fire. “Please come and sit. My questions will not take you away from your other amusements for long.”
“On the contrary, I believe your inquiries will be far more amusing to me than any of the other occupations I may pursue today.” She sat down.
“Perhaps they may.” He sat down in the opposite chair. “You know, I find it a great piece of luck that we should meet again, Lady Trent.”
“Even under such circumstances?”
“Especially under such circumstances. I was much struck, your ladyship must understand, by the tone of our prior conversation. If I may say so, it is rare to meet with anyone, man or woman, with such quickness of mind.”
“Mr. Read, you flatter me beyond my just desserts.”
“No indeed. Am I correct in thinking that your father endeavored to give you the education that he himself possessed?”
“Did you know my father?”
“By reputation. Dr. Claire was quite a renowned physician in his day.”
“I see the Richmond Thief is not the only subject of your investigations.”
“Merely a few inquiries to satisfy my own curiosity. I apprehend his practice was centered in and around Taunton, but that he was consulted by the London practitioners.”
“He was highly skilled in treating afflictions of the lungs and bad humors of the blood.”
Read nodded. “I have been rightly informed by my sources as to your father, but your ladyship remains a mystery.”
“Let me save you the trouble of further investigation. My father gave me an education that was unusual for my sex and age, but then we
were very close, and I had no mother to chide him into a proper course. I did study medicine and assisted him as best I could, but I fear I never achieved his brilliance. Medicine is an art, you understand, and the best practitioners have a certain knack that cannot be taught.”
“I see.”
“In any case, my formal studies ended with my marriage to Sir Arthur Trent.”
“Sir Arthur was some years your ladyship’s senior, I believe.”
“Yes, he was only several years younger than my dear father. And to prevent you from inquiring further, I will add that he was a patient of my father’s. My father took me along to attend him during a particularly vicious spring cold. One is to suppose that Sir Arthur fell in love with my beauty, but I have never been a romantic. It was more that he sought a partner with an equal interest in science and, as no other suitable party had ever appeared, determined to make an offer to me.”
“Again, I fear your ladyship is too modest.”
“Fiddle. Now, sir, please let us get to the matter at hand. I am all interest. Does the disappearance of the Levanwood diamonds have anything to do with the Richmond Thief, do you think?”
“What is your ladyship’s thought?”
“That it seems to loosely fit the mold.”
“That is my conclusion as well.”
“But perhaps we could be too hasty. My father instructed me never to jump to conclusions too precipitously, but rather to examine all of the facts first.”
Mr. Read smiled. “A wise maxim to be sure. And what other facts does your ladyship wish to examine?”
“Why do I feel that this interview has less to do with the missing gems and more with an illustration of my character?”
“Perhaps I should be clear about my intentions. Bow Street works with very limited resources and must take every advantage available to us. My principal officers are fine men, but they can never have access to all of the relevant information.”
“You desire my assistance to locate the diamond necklace?”
“If your ladyship would deign to assist us, we would certainly be most grateful. I promise that any communication would be kept confidential.”
“How delightful!” Then she looked down. “Perhaps that was not the most ladylike reaction, but I will admit to you that the life of idle dissipation does not suit me.”
“I had hoped not. Should your ladyship fear for your safety, I must hasten to add that Bow Street has several well-placed persons who also assist us from time to time because they have access to social circles that my Bow Street Runners cannot hope to enter. With your permission, I will ask one of these agents to contact you. He has been working on the problem of the Richmond Thief for some time now and should welcome the assistance. I assume that Lady Levanwood has made inquiries for vouchers to Almack’s? It is soon to open.”
Althea nodded. “She procured a voucher for me from Countess Jersey. We mean to attend next week.”
“Perfect. I will have my agent contact you then. You shall know him by the word butterfly.”
Althea smiled. “Given my interests, that is most appropriate.”
Mr. Read rose as if to escort her to the door, but Althea protested, “Magistrate Read, please, we must follow protocol. I will now describe for you my movements since I last saw the diamonds around the marchioness’s neck and give you any other information at my disposal.”
He sat back down and withdrew a small pad of paper from his breast pocket and a well-worn pencil. “I see you know my duty better than I do.”
Althea gave him an arch look. “One day I hope to.”
Chapter Six
That Wednesday evening, Althea dressed with more than special care in a dark blue satin gown with point lace at the collar and covering the puffed sleeves. She had just ordered it from Madame Longet, and that lady, happy to indulge a prosperous patron, had delivered it with extraordinary speed.
How silly, Althea thought to herself as Mrs. Buxton again appeared to perform her miraculous ministrations, that an assignation with an agent of Bow Street should supply me with greater excitement than the flower of London society. But so it was.
Jane had called her distracted that afternoon over tea, but in reality her thoughts were highly focused on a single question. Who was to be the mysterious agent? She imagined him tall and dark, with keen eyes and a brilliant mind. He must be confident and cunning and possess a smooth charm, which allowed him to blend easily into every society. Highborn, but not so high that he was unused to doing for himself. Well traveled and a master of languages. And disguise. One must not forget the art of the chameleon. In sum, a man who combined perfect intellect with all of the finer points of character and beauty. A prince among men. And just the man, if one were willing, to tempt a widow woman from her contented solitude.
Buxton tugged at her hair, and the vision of Prince Charming vanished into thin air. Althea eyed her reflection in the mirror. Buxton pulled again, braiding her hair on both sides and bringing it up into a twist high on the back of her head with a band of point lace wrapped around it as a nod to Althea’s matron status. This time there were no soft curls to frame her face. Instead a yellow rose was placed just behind her ear in the Spanish style—a rose from one of the many bouquets that had indeed been sent in honor of her entrance into society. Althea wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry, but she’d picked the yellow rose because it was common enough among the bouquets to minimize the chance of raising a single gentleman’s hopes.
When she descended the stairs to be handed into the family carriage by Charles, he met her with yet another expression of approval. “That color does favor you, Cousin Althea.”
“Thank you, Charles. Sir Arthur always liked this color.”
The mention of her departed husband seemed to stop any further effusions. Jane met her eyes ruefully but refrained from comment. The small group ascended to the confines of the Levanwood carriage, Lord John and the marquess having declined to partake of the country dances and lemonade offered by Almack’s assembly rooms.
The rooms at Almack’s were elegant in their simplicity. Not so the fashionable crowd that had assembled under the candlelight of the crystal chandeliers. Althea marveled at the profusion of satins and the glitter of gems. Plumes rose to the ceiling from enormous turbans, some so tall that Althea feared the risk of fire from a stray drop of sizzling wax. Perhaps the Richmond Thief would make another attempt, although stealing a bauble from the wearer in situ did not seem to be part of his plan. In any case, Althea looked around her anxiously for anyone who might be the Bow Street agent.
“Norwich hasn’t arrived yet, my dear,” Jane said dryly.
“What makes you think I am looking for him?”
“You should be. Another night like the night of the ball and you will be the toast of the town.”
“As if that mattered.”
“Then whom are you so arduously seeking?”
“Was it that obvious? I should learn to be more subtle if I am to get on.”
Jane laid a hand on her arm. “Get on with what? You’ve been acting strangely. What are you hiding from me?”
Althea hesitated a moment and then whispered in Jane’s ear, “I promise to tell you everything tonight, but for now just let me find my way. I am looking for someone I’ve never met.”
“Never met? Really Althea, you are just talking nonsense now. Besides, you must wait for Lady Jersey to introduce you to a gentleman not already known to you. Ah, good, here she comes.” Jane looked over at an imposing woman, trussed up like a turkey in a low-cut gown of green satin and egret feathers, slowly making her way over to their party. A small, portly man trotted at her heel. Althea recognized them from the Levanwood ball.
“My, the years have not been kind to her,” Jane added under her breath.
“Who is the gentleman, again? I have forgotten his name,” Althea said.
“Sir Neville Tabard, a great friend of the Duke of York. He’s quite got on since I knew him last.”
Althea gave Jane a speaking look, but then Lady Jersey was upon them.
She embraced Lady Levanwood warmly. “Oh my dear child, such news about your lovely diamonds! When I heard what happened, I positively burst into tears. I truly did. They are saying it was that Richmond Thief again! Such a terrible thing, and Bow Street seems powerless to stop the man. How can any of us feel safe with such a brute roaming large?”
“Upon my soul, I’ve never been so shocked in all my life,” Sir Neville said, waving an oversize quizzing glass strung on a satin ribbon around his neck dramatically in the air. “Why, to think he might have killed us all as we danced!”
Althea had to repress a smile. “Fortunately, he seems not to have added murder to his other crimes.”
“Ah yes, quite true,” Sir Neville said. There was a pause in the conversation.
Lady Levanwood wrung her plump hands together and sought to fill the void. “Lady Trent, I believe you know Sir Neville Tabard.”
Althea extended her hand, and he grasped it lightly and then bowed low. Althea heard the creak of a corset and the jangle of the various fobs and seals Sir Neville found indispensable to carry on his watch chain. “Delighted.”
Althea bobbed a curtsey. She could hear the sound of the musicians tuning up, signaling the start of the dancing. Althea caught Charles’s eye. He’d expressed a wish of dancing the first with her.
“Lady Trent,” said Lady Jersey, “I’ve observed that you are not averse to dancing. May I present Sir Neville as a desirable partner for the set that is just forming?”
“Of course.” Althea gave Sir Neville a formal smile.
Charles graciously stepped back. Sir Neville extended his arm, and Althea laid her hand upon his sleeve.
As the set came together, Althea remarked, “It is delightful to meet Jane’s former acquaintance. I find myself quite curious as to her life prior to her retirement into Somerset. Is she much changed?”