“Yes?” said Holly, playing along with the non-sequitur.
“Undeniably. Why, I have now experienced the cruel dregs of heartbreak: the very thing to drive a man to the high seas. And besides that, I’ve a fine pair of lungs for seafaring ditties.” He frowned in exaggerated concentration, before bursting into a very wobbly song.
“Fair Sally lov'd a bonny seaman, with tears she sent him out to roam…”
Holly never found out what happened to either Sally or the seaman, because at that point his lordship trailed off sadly, no doubt thinking of his former lover.
Holly glanced hopelessly up at Lucy, who seemed to be fighting an expression of amusement.
“I think, Avonbury, that you had better drink up that coffee. I shall call for another pot. And something to eat would not go amiss either.”
“Another? By Jove, you are merciless!” declared the earl approvingly. He accepted more of the vile concoction that Holly offered him and gulped it down, proclaiming afterwards that he should never again care for coffee so long as he lived.
It took a while before the gentleman regained his head, but eventually, the bleariness began to drain out of his eyes and the pinkness from his face.
“Your pardon, Holly, did I say anything I ought not have done, while I was on the mop?” Avonbury asked somewhat unsteadily.
“Not in the least, but I am glad that you seem to me somewhat better now. I need to know exactly what those emeralds look like. My husband said you were very good with charcoal.”
“Why, yes, I am. But what the deuce has that to do with anything? My future will unquestionably fall apart if Strathavon does not come through. Now is hardly the time to draw pictures.”
“That is not true. I think you had much better make me a sketch of the emeralds, as accurate as you can. You remember them, don’t you?”
“’Course I do. They were in my mother’s portrait in the grand dining room. I think I shall remember the damned things till I am in the ground, regardless.”
“Well we needn’t go so far as that,” said Holly briskly. “But a picture would be very helpful.”
She twined a strand of hair about her finger absently as she contemplated what promised to be the beginnings of a plan, but Avonbury was too preoccupied with his own troubles to notice this deeply ominous sign.
Taking advantage of the earl’s increasing sobriety, Holly produced charcoal and some paper and waited. Once the sketch was done, she folded it carefully into her journal for safe keeping.
The earl looked resigned. “I suppose I shan’t get an explanation and so needn’t bother to ask for one. It is said in the clubs, my dear, that in the wake of the Duchess of Strathavon there lies a delightful sea of scandal and chaos. I can think of no better lady and more perfect match for Strathavon. You even scold like he: and Strathavon gives such a dreadful scold that it is enough to shrivel the ears.”
“Now, really, Avonbury, you sound as if you thought that I should now deliver you the cut direct merely because you turned up here a trifle disguised!”
“I should not have been surprised if you would. Ladies tend to have a certain animosity towards such things. Ah, the cut direct, indeed. Do you know that it was very de rigueur at Cambridge when I was there?” laughed Avonbury. “Why, daily there would be gentlemen passing their former chums with not a sign of acknowledgement. And over such paltry things as tennis, conkers and capricious ladies. ”
“You make Cambridge sound a very silly place.”
“Rather than the great cold tomb the scholars would have it be? Life is all about location and perspective, my dear.”
With these words of wisdom, and a somewhat steadier gait than he had exhibited on arrival, Avonbury took his leave, returning to his own lodgings in Maddox Street.
Holly looked after him a moment. It was really a shame she liked him as much as she did, for now she was obliged to solve his bit of trouble also. She produced the sketch of the emeralds again, and looked at it.
“Lucy?”
“Yes, your ladyship?”
“Do you happen to know of anyone obliging in Lady Charlotte Holland’s household? It would be such a tremendous help if you did.”
That was how Holly found herself in another new tangle. She had somehow to save Avonbury, and she even had an idea of how she would go about doing that – but even Holly had to admit that it was her most daring plan by far.
Head buzzing with plans, she hurried off to bed, and woke up especially early, ordering her Phaeton to be ready for her at eight o’clock sharp.
With Lucy at her side, she set off to Rundell and Bridge at 32 Ludgate Hill. The elegant establishment catered to the likes of the Duke of York and the Prince of Wales, and Holly knew she needed the very best and most discreet paragon of the profession to undertake her singular commission.
*
When he was informed that the illustrious Duchess of Strathavon herself had decided to pay his humble establishment a visit, Mr Rundell decided to attend to the lady in person. The gentleman had a ruthlessly sharp business acumen which perfectly matched the beauty of the objects he produced.
Holly was welcomed into his private office, and offered a cup of tea, which she refused politely, eager to get to business.
“And in what way can I be of service to you today, Your Grace?” the jeweller asked, peering at Holly over his glasses, his blue eyes keen and assessing. “Would you care to look at our newest offerings in gold? They are very fine and at the cutting edge of fashion this autumn, I can assure you.”
Holly shook her head and unfurled her ebony and silver fan, the better to play her part. “Thank you, no, though I am certain your craftsmanship is very fine. That is precisely why I have come here, you see. I have an unusual order today, and only the very best and most discreet jeweller in all of London will do.”
Mr Rundell appeared to be calculating the possible cost of a unique order from the wife of one of the wealthiest men in England. And he had heard some unusual orders in his time. He was curious to know more.
“I should be honoured to be of assistance in this matter, Lady Strathavon.”
Pleased, Holly produced the sketch. Avonbury was certainly very clever with charcoal, even in his cups. The Avonbury emeralds were nothing short of magnificent. She folded out the sketch and showed it to the jeweller, who took the page and examined it at length.
“It is a very remarkable piece. Made sometime early in the previous century, I believe, and the craftsmanship is impeccable. French. Why, my dear Lady Strathavon, I do believe these are the famous Avonbury emeralds.”
“So they are,” Holly beamed. “Very good, Mr Rundell.”
“And you would like a replica made? But, Your Grace, I would advise you that it might not be a very sound idea to wear a replica, we could…”
Holly shook her head. “I beg your pardon, Mr Rundell. I am certain you could produce something of an equal loveliness, and perhaps we could make that our next project? But just now, I do require a replica. As exact as you can make it, and of paste.”
“Paste!” the gentleman exclaimed despite himself. He had not expected this. The Duchess of Strathavon asking for paste! And a replica. He doubted very much His Grace was in any sort of dire straits, so what would the young woman want with such a thing?
“Just so. It goes without saying that I would rely on your utter discretion regarding this piece. And I am willing to pay handsomely for the execution.”
“Madam, you may rest every confidence in me, but…” the jeweller trailed off, mortified. Maybe the girl was being played a prank on – she was little older than his own daughter, after all, and society ladies could be very cutting.
“Mr Rundell, I cannot explain to you the exact nature of my interest in such a thing, but I must have it,” the young lady said firmly, sensing his hesitation.
Rundell took a good look at her intelligent eyes and her firmly set mouth, sighed and nodded.
“Excellent,” Holly said brightly,
her mouth curling into another smile. “I shall need it as soon as possible. By nightfall, as it happens.”
“Certainly.”
*
Their next stop was to be Park Lane.
“If we meet any acquaintance, I shall say that I am on my way to see Lady Louisa,” Holly said to Lucy, as she slowed the Phaeton. “But keep your eyes open for anything useful.”
Both women paid careful attention to the filigree fence surrounding the park, before turning their regard to the house opposite.
“I shall need a dark dress just like that one,” Holly said as they watched a woman exit the house with a basket on one arm.
“That can be easily procured, Lady Strathavon,” Lucy told her as they turned into the park. “It is their uniform.”
Leaving the vehicle in the charge of her groom, Holly then proceeded on a brisk stroll along the fence, Lucy walking quickly to keep up.
“Are you looking for something particular, ma’am?” asked the maid, following as the young duchess picked her way through undergrowth.
“Yes. I need to ascertain the spot exactly opposite Lady Charlotte’s house. I wonder if it might be possible to squeeze through… If I am right, it should be… Yes! Right there opposite that wide elm. I believe there is a sizeable gap in the fence, also.”
“But even with the maid’s uniform, how will you get into the house? It shall be locked up at so late an hour,” Lucy asked, still astonished at her new employer. Did highborn ladies often get up to such strange antics?
“Then I shall unlock it. It’s a skill I picked up as a girl. I’m afraid it must be done, and I must be the one to do it to ensure that nothing goes wrong. A lot of innocent people will come to harm if I do not. Though I shall need your friend’s help once I’ve made it inside.
“Geraldine – she will await you at midnight.”
“Excellent! Dear me, but this will be an exciting night.”
Lucy peered into Holly’s lovely face, framed by greenery, wondering what it was that compelled the duchess to rescue every helpless soul she met.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but why do you wish to help in this matter? It is quite dangerous,” the maid asked boldly.
“Because there isn’t anyone else who can help them – or will. I have always thought, Lucy, that even though one cannot change the whole world, one can make it better one act of kindness at a time. It is such things that give people hope.”
Lucy nodded, wondering how many unfortunates Holly had taken under her wing in the nineteen years of her life.
“Geraldine warned that the housekeeper, Mrs Maltby, must be avoided at any cost.”
Holly reached out and squeezed Lucy’s hand. “Thank you,” she said. “I cannot tell you how much I value your help in this – and Geraldine’s.”
*
Deeply frustrated at his ineffectual meeting with Lady Charlotte at Young’s, Strathavon took refuge at his club as he contemplated what to do next.
He had been intrigued to discover that Holly had dressed and gone on some unknown errand well before breakfast, but he’d been too preoccupied with Avonbury to give much thought to her possible destination.
He had just comfortably settled into a leather armchair, a glass of good brandy at his elbow and the Evening Post in hand, when Lord Bettenhall sidled up to him.
“Ah, there you are, Strathavon. I was wondering if all the fellows had decided to quit London at once, for there’s not been a soul here all day. Avonbury, at least, is accounted for. He said that he was going to the steam bath in Portman Square – he’s taken it into his head that it is just the thing to rejuvenate him after all that wine he downed yesterday. Awful blue-devilled he’s been recently. I did try to tell him that it is unlikely the baths can cure an excess of sherry, but he was determined. I’d wager he’ll be in a worse temper when he emerges – all that devilish heat and hellish steam. The whole place is too much of the brimstone to rejuvenate anyone, in my opinion.”
“Then he stayed here as I told him to, last night,” said Strathavon dryly. “I’ll own this is the first he’s listened to me.”
“He did. Well, aside from when he left. Said he was off to look for you, but it turned out you were not at home, though her ladyship was awful kind to him.”
“She would be,” sighed the duke.
Bettenhall looked affronted. In fact, he looked as ruffled as the duke had ever seen him. “Now look here, Strathavon, she’s your wife and all, but I hardly think –”
Strathavon found himself bewildered by Bettenhall’s flustered appearance before he finally understood.
“Lady Strathavon and Avonbury? That is not what I meant,” he said calmly. “But it is most unlike her to turn away any waifs. And, I assure you, Avonbury can be astonishingly waifish when he is in the doldrums. However, I do not think she would fall in love with him. My wife has more sense.”
“Ah, good. I would not have liked to challenge you for making such an ill-bred insinuation,” said Bettenhall.
Strathavon was impressed at the loyalty Holly had somehow managed to inspire in the fickle ton. How had she done it?
Without a doubt, had she been allowed to join the front, she would have single-handedly proved to be the most formidable force Old Boney could ever hope to face.
He chuckled and inclined his head to Bettenhall with a great show of irony.
“I expect I would have found it very vexing if you had done. But Holly … Well, I suppose that she has had me painted as an unrepentant rake all this time. She might just have enjoyed the thought of pistols at dawn.”
*
For supper, they had roast duck, in a rich plum sauce that was the secret genius of the cook.
Strathavon was interested to note that Holly appeared to have little feeling concerning the exquisite meal, and that her eyes tended to stray to the window, where the sun was setting, casting long shadows in its wake.
After the meal, the duke retreated to his study to attend to some blessedly dull paperwork. A moment later, Holly appeared at the door, still looking very much up to no good.
Sylvester leaned back in his chair and considered her. This room was the true source of his comfort and his favourite of the whole house. It was here that he felt most at ease. He had even taken the sartorial liberty of dressing in a comfortably worn blue banyan.
Holly noticed that Strathavon appeared uncharacteristically tranquil– almost somnolent, and she shifted uneasily, feeling as though she were intruding on a private moment of peace.
“Yes, my dear?” he asked. “Is there aught I can do for you?”
At those words, Holly thought of several things, the least of which was another of those burning kisses, but there was no time for daydreams at present, so she pushed the vision firmly away.
“I wished only to inform you that I am engaged to go to Vauxhall with Lady Louisa and Sir John this evening, for the autumn water music concert. Thus, I shall not be at home.”
“Are you, now?” he asked idly, noting her unease. Something was not right…
“Quite so.”
Strathavon, however, would not be distracted.
“Then I think I shall accompany you. It is only my duty, after all.”
“I shouldn’t trouble you: Sir John does not in the least mind and he enjoys water music.” She smiled sweetly, unmistakably baiting him.
“How fortunate for him, but I must insist. By the by, I hear my cousin passed through here last night while I was at White’s?”
She raised an eyebrow at the mention of White’s, but made no comment.
“Yes, rather worse for wear, too.”
“You managed a gentleman in his altitudes, all by yourself? I know for a fact that Avonbury gets disagreeably mopish.”
“Certainly not – I had the servants bring him a pot of your good coffee and a blanket.”
“You did not mind it?”
“Should I have?”
“As a rule, ladies tend to be dismayed when presented with gent
lemen who are more than a trifle disguised.”
“I have two brothers who are nearly grown, Sylvester – I’ve had occasion to witness half-cut gentlemen turning up in the parlour. Especially around Christmas, on papa’s good port. It was quite a task, sneaking them past mama and papa so that they might recover in their rooms. At least, unlike your cousin, they are not given to singing.”
Strathavon knew exactly the kind of mischief of which boys of that age were capable, which made him even more impressed by Holly’s unruffled state. He certainly did not envy their long-suffering parents. Then, her second point appeared to register.
He winced. “Sing? And was he very talkative, also?”
Holly endeavoured to look exasperated. “Excessively. I couldn’t make sense of it, but then I did not expect to.”
Strathavon was careful not to let his relief show.
“Ah, Avonbury. He is a very splendid fellow. As I recall, we first truly bonded over his very droll caricatures of our Eton masters. I have told you that he possesses a hidden genius with charcoal.”
Holly shifted at that, before seeming to school herself into stillness. “Yes, so I understand.”
“Pardon me, Lady Strathavon,” said Mrs Willan from the hallway. “There is a young lady come to drop a parcel for you, and also a lad with a delivery from Run –”
“Yes, thank you, Mrs Willan,” Holly interrupted hastily. “Please see them brought up to my room.”
When the housekeeper had left, Holly turned back to the duke, who was watching her curiously.
“I’m afraid I really must attend to this. Do excuse me, Sylvester.”
She was gone in a flurry of skirts, leaving behind a delightful scent of orange blossoms.
Strathavon wondered what was in the parcel. She had been very determined to interrupt Mrs Willan…
Chapter 13
The maid’s uniform lay spread out on Holly’s bed, while she and Lucy considered it. It was a little too long in the hem, and tight in the chest, but it would have to do.
Holly felt a thrill of excitement shoot through her body. It was all coming together…
Lady Adventuress 01 - His Wayward Duchess Page 23