by Jennifer Joy
It was difficult to contain his excitement. He would help look into Miss Mauvier’s affairs. If she was involved in sordid activities, then she deserved to be brought to justice. If Richard could explain her activities which tainted her name, then he would take great pride in clearing it. Either way, he would help keep England’s secrets safe, and he would earn the promotion. There was no doubt in his mind that he would find success. Failure, when his dreams were so close to becoming reality, was not an option.
“You can count on me, Dovedale.”
“Very good. Take an extended leave. I want all of your focus on this investigation, and your duties would only take away time and prove to be a distraction. If I need to contact you, it will be much easier to do so at your family’s residence. It is very convenient that they are still in town. If you need to contact me, have a messenger leave a note with the butler at my club.”
With a few more final instructions, Dovedale dismissed Richard to begin this new path in his military career.
The seriousness of his task was the only thing to keep Richard from floating off the ground, so lighthearted was he as he walked down the corridor to the steps leading out of the building.
Deep in thought, the sounds of conversation and boot heels which had echoed throughout the building on his way in faded to a low hum on his way out.
What would be the most effective way to begin? Ideas ran across his mind in quick succession, but one stuck. Money. If Miss Mauvier had indeed traded a secret, there would be some evidence of extra money about. He would have to check for recent, expensive purchases. Anything out of the ordinary.
Rounding the corner to the stables, Richard bumped rather forcefully into a gentleman carrying a black medical bag, which fell to the ground.
“Dear me, I do apologize,” said Richard, as he picked up the bag while the gentleman caught his balance.
“No matter, sir. I have done the same when lost in thought myself. No damage has been done.” The gentleman brushed himself, and straightened his hat.
Richard handed the bag back to its owner. “Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, at your service. I hope the contents did not suffer from their fall.”
Bowing, the gentleman introduced himself. “Mr. Bradley Thorpe, doctor by day, and by night… well, also a doctor,” he said in good humor, opening the bag to ensure that its contents were not too disturbed.
“Good doctors are hard to find, and the ones who are found are kept very busy.” The doctor, who looked to be a few years younger than he, seemed a happy sort, and Richard liked him immediately.
“Thank you for the good word, Colonel. My patients are mostly the servants and clerks of the great men who work inside, but they too are deserving of proper care,” he said.
“I will not detain you any further then. A pleasure meeting you, Mr. Thorpe,” Richard said with a bow.
“Indeed. Maybe we shall meet again,” he said as he continued to the main building.
Richard was not opposed to the idea, but doubted it would come to pass.
Soon enough, all thoughts of Mr. Thorpe were crowded out by the daydreams Richard had not allowed himself to dwell on. With a promotion, he could marry for love— dowry or no dowry. Indulging himself by thinking on the desires of his heart, he waited for his horse to be saddled and brought to him, savoring every detail of what he imagined his future life to be.
Chapter 8
Richard could hardly contain his excitement. If all went well, and Dovedale approved of his work, everything he ever wanted was within reach: a small estate in the country; enough income to marry whom he pleased and live comfortably; a better guarantee that his feet stayed on English soil. He felt like a man freed from the burden of unfulfilled expectations.
Charming sensed his pride and pranced in response. Richard patted his neck and turned in the direction of Hyde Park. Neither he nor his horse was ready to return home. Their excitement and pent-up energy would give them away, and Richard was never a good one to keep a secret. But he felt confident that this secret was one he could keep. Too much rested on his ability to do so.
The sun shone brighter, the grass looked greener, the ladies dressed finer…. Everything was to Richard’s liking. Had it rained, he would have welcomed the rainbow it brought.
When Richard felt that he could trust himself to act normally, he turned his horse toward his family’s home.
Father was away at his club, and Mother continued her struggle in the front parlor. She was deep in thought, staring at the lengths of colors in front of her. To the blue and green, she had added also pink, a lighter green, and a red.
“There are just too many to choose from!” she shook her bowed head.
“I have never known you to be indecisive. Why is this proving to be so difficult?” Richard asked.
“Were it my taste alone, it would be easy enough. I prefer the rose colors. But, I want to please your father, and though I know he would never say anything to me, I know that he would not feel comfortable in such a feminine room.”
Her comment was so true to his mother’s concerned character, Richard wrapped his arm around her shoulders and rested his cheek on the top of her graying head.
“Father will be pleased with whatever you decide to do. You know that as well.”
“I do. However, I would feel horribly selfish were I to decorate this room without taking him into consideration. He would do exactly the same for me. Do you not remember the special chair and table he bought for his study, so that I might feel comfortable visiting him in his room?”
Richard squeezed her shoulders again. The relationship his parents shared was one of cooperation and consideration. He loved it that his mother and father took care of each other the way they did. It was what he sought for in a wife.
“You are overwhelmed, Mother. Do you know what I think you need?” asked Richard, dropping his arm to face her.
“I am your mother. I should be the one giving you advice,” she said with a snap.
“True enough. What advice would you give me, then?” he asked, trying to keep the grin off his face. Mother was so rarely in a poor mood, and she so rarely expressed her frustration as passionately as he naturally would, he found some humor in her current situation.
Poking him in the chest, she said, “Do not give me that attitude, Richard. Do not forget that I used to swat your bottom when you misbehaved as a little boy— and many occasions you gave me to do so, my boy. But, since you ask…,” she paused to capture Richard’s curiosity.
It worked. “What? What do advice do you have?” he asked, shuffling his feet impatiently.
“I would advise you to marry.”
Richard, still feeling merry from his morning’s news, said, “All right.”
She turned away from the fabric to face him directly. Grabbing both of his arms, she said, “Are you serious? Do you mean to tell me that you will look for a bride in earnest? Oh, it would bring your father and me endless joy to see you happily settled!” Her hand, which had been poking him moments ago, now rested over her heart.
“I am not absolutely certain if it will come to pass, but I have been given the prospect of a promotion.” He raised his hands up to prevent the flood of questions. “I am not free to discuss any details, only to suggest that it is a likely possibility. If it happens, then I will have the freedom to choose a wife. In fact, it is the reason I am home. My leave has been extended so that certain details might be arranged.” There, that was all he was permitted to say.
Mother opened her arms, and Richard felt her face squish against his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. For a second, he felt like a child again. He had been raised with frequent displays of affection, and an embrace from Mother or Father filled his soul with happy memories.
“Oh, my son, I am so happy for you! Just wait until your father hears the news. Until you know for certain, we will keep it to ourselves, but, oh, Richard, what a glorious day!” With one final squeeze, she stepped back. Her smile never wa
vered, even when she looked upon the fabric awaiting her choice.
“Would you like to take a ride in the carriage with me, Mother? I think it would be good for you to get out of the house. Perhaps you will find inspiration out of doors.” He nodded toward the source of her worry, piled neatly in rainbow colors.
“What a fine idea. In fact, I should like very much to go to Miss Mauvier’s dress shop. I am in need of a couple of new gowns before we return to Matlock for the winter. And I think that if I am to find inspiration, that is as good a place as any.”
Richard forced himself to answer calmly, although his heart thundered. “I will have the carriage readied straight away.”
“I find Miss Mauvier to be charming. She was so attentive to Miss Beatrice while we were at Lady Catherine’s. She even averted a verbal scuffle between the two ladies. Mr. Mauvier is to be admired for attempting to mix those two— they are like oil and vinegar. When I think about what your father had to put up with, growing up with such an overbearing personality as Lady Catherine’s, my respect for him grows.”
Richard had often pondered the same thing. Unfortunately for Mother and Father, his older brother had married a lady who very much resembled the great lady herself. How interesting that Miss Mauvier had so easily kept peace between the two difficult sisters-in-law, but she just as easily argued with him, and pointed out his flaws.
“I will have the carriage brought around.” Richard left the room, gave orders, and ran upstairs to change into his off-duty clothes. After changing his coat two times, much to the valet’s consternation, he finally settled on his favorite dark blue jacket.
Feeling more relaxed, Richard prepared himself for a visit to Miss Mauvier’s shop. It was the perfect excuse to pay a visit and have a look over the premises. He did not know what he was looking for, but he would note anything out of place.
As they neared her place of business, Richard mentally readied himself for what he was certain to see. After all, it was not as if she were a highly reputed establishment on Bond Street. Images of fabric shoved helter-skelter onto dusty shelves, papers and notes haphazardly stuffed in a ledger, bits of thread trailing out of the cramped workroom where the help squinted their eyes to stitch in the dark…. He prepared himself for the worse scenario in the hopes that he would be pleasantly surprised and his search would be all the easier for it.
The carriage entered the street, and the first thing Richard noticed was how clean the windows at the front and side of the shop were. He had to look away when the sun’s reflection pierced his eyes, making him see black spots. The sidewalk in front of the entry door was swept clean. Maybe this would not be so bad after all.
Assisting his mother out of the coach, they opened the door. Directly ahead were stairs leading up to the living quarters. A discreetly placed fern sitting atop a table directed them to the left where the shop was. It was a charming place. Bright colors burst from the far wall with neatly stacked fabrics, the wood floors were clean and polished to a shine, the glass in the display case sparkled, and Miss Mauvier, with her dark hair pulled tightly away from her face, looked every bit the proud proprietress as she walked over to greet them.
Chapter 9
Richard realized he was staring at Miss Mauvier, and he instantly felt awkward as he purposely looked away. It reminded him of his younger years when he first realized that maidens were not as repulsive as he had thought them, and the presence of a young lady would make him blush. That was the same effect Miss Mauvier had on him that moment.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam?… Colonel?”
Richard snapped to, looking in the direction from whence his name was called. Miss Mauvier tilted her head, one eyebrow raised, and a teasing expression on her face.
“I am afraid we have already bored you, sir. Please, take a seat in the waiting area and I will have one of the girls bring you the paper or a magazine— whichever you prefer.”
His eyes drifted to her mouth as she spoke, and remained there until he realized she awaited a response. Holy heavens, it was like he was sixteen all over again.
Bowing gallantly to draw attention away from his coloring face, he said, “Thank you, Miss Mauvier. I should like very much to read the paper.”
He caught the look on Mother’s face as he sat in the chairs next to the full-length mirrors. Was it pity? Incredulity?
The chair swallowed him, the smooth texture gliding across his coat and trousers as he sank into the puffy furniture.
“Hmm. Comfortable,” he remarked aloud, and immediately felt stupid for his lack of eloquence. Maybe nobody had heard.
Mother rolled her eyes at him, then continued her conversation with Miss Mauvier and a couple of helpers.
Miss Mauvier whispered something to the youngest girl, who scurried away to the back of the room where there was a hall. Richard could not see far from where he was seated. He would have to think of an excuse to walk around if he wanted to see if anything struck him as suspicious.
The girl came back with the newspaper in her hand. She smiled and bowed as she handed it to him.
“Thank you very much, miss,” said Richard.
The girl looked away shyly, but stood in place as if she had something to say. Out of politeness, she would not speak unless first spoken to.
“I am sorry I do not know your name. When someone does me a service, I like to acknowledge them by name. My name is Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. What is yours, if you please?”
Grabbing her skirt and swaying from side to side, she said, “My name is Mary, Colonel.”
“Then I thank you, Miss Mary. It is a pleasure to meet you. Have you been working here long?”
“Not so long as the other girls. I have only been here 2 months, but Miss Mauvier says that I am learning quickly.” She beamed in pride.
It concerned Richard that Miss Mauvier would hire someone so young. “Does your family live nearby, Miss Mary?”
As soon as the question was asked, he wished it unsaid. Her face, which had been rosy and smiling a second ago, changed. Jutting out her chin, she would have appeared rebellious, had it not been for the sadness in her eyes.
“I have no family anymore.”
Richard could have kicked himself. What was it about this place that made him say the stupidest things? It was as if he had left his brain at the door.
Just then, Miss Mauvier swooped in. Protectively placing both hands on Miss Mary’s shoulders, she asked, “Is all well? Do you require anything further, Colonel?” Her voice was hard, and the look she gave him was harder.
Miss Mary squirmed around. “It is not his fault, Miss Mauvier. He did not know how you took me in when my family left.”
For a moment, Richard wished the chair would swallow him whole. But his intentions had been honorable, and there was no shame in that. Sitting up taller, Richard looked boldly at Miss Mauvier. “I merely asked Miss Mary if her family lived nearby,” he looked at Miss Mary, “and I am so sorry they are gone. It takes strength of character, and a good deal of bravery, to learn how to live with such a great loss.” His throat tightened, but he choked out the last few words. He thanked God Almighty that he still had his family with him, though he had lost too many friends over the years.
Miss Mary’s smile returned, and Miss Mauvier loosened her hold on the girl. Patting her on the shoulder, Miss Mauvier said, “Miss Yvette is helping Lady Hannah. Please go see if there is anything she needs. I am expecting Lady Honoria at any moment now.”
Richard bit his lips together when he saw Miss Mary roll her eyes. “I hope she leaves Lord Tefton home.”
So quietly, he doubted if he heard it or not, Miss Mauvier whispered, “Me too.” But, she quickly recovered, sending Miss Mary away. “Take care to behave yourself, Mary. Off you go.”
After Miss Mary had gone, Miss Mauvier clutched her hands together— most likely to keep herself from strangling him, thought Richard.
“If you insist on speaking with my girls, there is something you should know. Eac
h one of them has a very sad history, and if they were not working here, they would now be out on the streets. Please, do not ask any more questions. It upsets them.”
Richard could not help but admire her protective nature. “Rest assured, it will not happen again.” He looked steadily into her eyes, doing his best to communicate to her how seriously he took promises.
Finally, she nodded, and without another word, she went back to assist Mother.
It would be difficult to investigate Miss Mauvier. From his observations thus far, she was neat, orderly, and respectful to her clients, and to her seamstresses. His admiration for her grew, though he tried to stop it. Had he not been warned of this? The person least suspected of such lying treachery was usually the very one capable of the worst crimes. He must not let his emotions get in the way. A much greater cause was at stake, and he must not trust her too easily.
Folding out the paper, he scanned the room from over the top of the pages between articles. He began to despair that he would find nothing of use during this first visit, and that Miss Mauvier would not be so easy to investigate as he had hoped.
The front door opened, and bells tinkled to announce a new customer. Richard turned around to see who it was.
Lord Tefton entered the shop with his bride, Lady Honoria, nearly bowling both of them over as he tripped on the rug leading into the room.
“Dash it all! Who put a rug there so that a fellow might trip on it? Dashedly bad place, if you ask me,” Lord Tefton complained, concerning himself more with his crooked waistcoat than attending to his wife, who winced and rubbed the side where he had elbowed her.
Miss Mauvier came over directly. “Lord Tefton, how lovely of you to accompany Lady Honoria to her fitting. I will see to the placement of the rug as soon as possible. Please, have a seat while I show my lady her new gowns and do a final fitting. We should not take long.”