Colonel Fitzwilliam's Challenge

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by Jennifer Joy


  “I come seeking answers to some disturbing events. My hope is that you might help shed some light on them.” She would begin nicely, though Miss Maven’s unwelcome manners made her want to behave in a contrary fashion.

  “And what makes you think I have any light to shed? Have you come here to accuse me of something of which I am unaware? After all I have done to help you, that would be most irksome.” She pursed her lips, and looked accusingly at Adélaïde.

  Mary stepped forward, her mouth open to speak. Adélaïde grabbed her arm to stop her, but Mary ignored her. “Do you really think you can get away with what I know you have done, Aunt?” She spit the familial title out as if it were a filthy word. “If you do not tell them what you really are, I will.”

  Chapter 27

  “She is your aunt?” asked Adélaïde in shock.

  “Hush! You insolent girl!” Miss Maven hissed between her teeth, her wrath blotching her complexion and wrinkling her forehead.

  Mary ignored her. “She took us in when our mother died. We were grateful to have a home to go to, but the only use she had for us was our free labor.” Once Mary began, the words came out fast, and Adélaïde hung on each one.

  “Wait, you mean you have a brother or a sister?” she asked.

  “I have a sister.”

  “Is she still here? How did you get away?”

  “She is here. I ran away. This past month, I have been sneaking over here during the night to check on her and bring her food.”

  That explained Mary’s hearty appetite.

  Miss Maven stood from her chair, pointing toward the door. “I do not have to listen to this. I took you in because it was my duty to do so, and now you malign my name. I want you to leave immediately!”

  Adélaïde clutched the sides of her chair, stood slowly, and took a step toward the woman. “You should have taken your own nieces in out of love, not obligation.”

  Turning her shoulder on Adélaïde, Miss Maven said, “I did what I had to. Success is not for the faint-of-heart. You give yourself airs because you take these filthy girls off the street, but you are no different from what I am. I saw it in your eyes the day we met. You will stop at nothing before your name is known throughout England as the best dressmaker in the country. Do not pretend you are more virtuous than I.”

  “I am nothing like you. Now, sit down and listen to your niece’s accusations against you before I call a constable.”

  Miss Maven lifted her chin with a grand huff, but she sat. Her regal air gone, she looked like an old woman who was finally being called out for her inhumane crimes.

  “It was you who set the fire in my shop, was it not?” Adélaïde asked.

  Miss Maven did not answer, but rather shuffled uncomfortably in her chair.

  “Why did you do it? Why did you go out of your way to help me, only to ensure that I could not work?”

  “I had heard about you and saw you as a threat. Your designs are unique, and I knew I could not compete with that for long. So, I decided that since it was only a matter of time before you acquired a place on Bond Street, it had better be in a place where I could keep a watchful eye on you.”

  “You are successful on your own merit. You need not have gone to such extremes.”

  “I am successful, and this is how I keep my position on top.” In a bragging tone, she said, “Why do you think so many dress shops have failed at your current address?”

  “You have put them out of business?” asked Adélaïde in disbelief. Her anger rising, she said, “Had you put as much of your destructive energy into the progress of your own business, you would have fared better. Now, I have every inclination of shutting you down.”

  “I have too many friends in high places for you to do so.” She sat straighter, haughtier.

  “Not when I tell them that you are a traitor.” Adélaïde watched Miss Maven’s reaction closely. She was convinced of her involvement. Any woman who could deal so treacherously in her business dealings was fully capable of sending secrets to the enemy so long as there was a profit in it.

  “I am not a traitor,” she denied, without hesitation.

  Adélaïde had expected to see fear or guilt, but there was none. Just a flat refusal.

  “Why did you suggest I create a dress for Mrs. Bartlow? Why her?”

  “Your own seamstress, Yvette, went to great lengths to secure her business. It was her suggestion.”

  It had been easy to defend Yvette when Richard mentioned her, but this was the second time her name had come up in association with the secret messages. Adélaïde had never questioned her girls’ motives, but now she had to wonder. “What do you offer Yvette for working with you?”

  Miss Maven scoffed. “She does not want to work for you forever. Like you and me, she wants a shop of her own, but lacks the means to acquire it. So, I may have mentioned that I am looking for a successor.”

  “She believed that?”

  “People too easily believe what they want to hear.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  “Why do you play these wicked games? Leading on the hopes of those who would look to you for advice, only to crush them under your watch? Is it a sick kind of entertainment for you?”

  “I do what I must. You will soon learn to do the same if you plan to succeed here.”

  Adélaïde refused to share Miss Maven’s dark views.

  Mary spoke up. “How do you send messages in your dresses? You have been found out.”

  Leaning forward on her desk, Miss Maven was fierce in denial. “I have nothing to do with that, and I thank you not to say such despicable things in my shop. I may be a bit… unscrupulous… in my dealings with my competition, but I would never stoop so low as to betray my homeland.”

  Nothing in her appearance suggested a lack of sincerity. Adélaïde started to believe the woman. But, if Miss Maven was not selling secrets, the traitor had to be someone else close to her. As the evidence mounted, and the meaning of previous actions became clearer, one figure stood out above all the others. Only Adélaïde so badly did not want to believe it.

  Standing up, Adélaïde said, “Summon your sister, Mary. She leaves with us.” To Miss Maven, she said, “This is not our last discussion. There is the matter of destroyed property which must be put right.”

  “It is your word against mine. I will deny it before a constable,” said Miss Maven, her glare daring Adélaïde to put her to the test.

  “Yes, and we know what your word is worth. I am not concerned.”

  Before anything more could be said, Adélaïde left the room, Mary and her sister following her.

  Miss Maven followed them to the door, no doubt, to ensure their departure.

  “We have unfinished business, Miss Maven. Rest assured that I will call later,” Adélaïde said before closing the door behind her.

  As her feet pounded the paved sidewalk, her thoughts soon left Miss Maven to ponder a much bigger problem. Yvette.

  Richard had wanted to accompany Adélaïde to Miss Maven’s. Waiting while Adélaïde faced her adversary alone increased his anxiety so much that he could not sit or stand still. He needed to do something. To act.

  Pondering how best to proceed given Miss Maven’s reaction, he started walking toward St. James, in the direction of Aunt Beatrice’s house. So wrapped up in his thoughts, he was caught by surprise when three blocks toward the direction of Aunt Beatrice’s house, Mr. Thorpe fell into step beside him.

  “Fancy seeing you here, good colonel. I do say, the weather is rather unpredictable today. I fear an east wind.” His voice was upbeat, but his face was serious.

  “Typical autumn weather, if you ask me. Do you have business in these parts?” asked Richard cautiously. Mr. Thorpe’s manners puzzled him.

  “I do, and it would serve you well to follow me. I can help,” he said in an undertone.

  Richard stopped and stared at the gentleman.

  In a louder voice, Mr. Thorpe said, “Since we are going the same direction, what say you
to sharing a hackney coach?” He looked toward the busy road, signaling at the first empty coach in sight.

  Richard was uncertain what to do, but his gut told him to hear the doctor out. He thought back to the circumstances of their meeting, and through every conversation they had held. Come to think of it, he had bumped into him— quite literally— for the first time just after his first meeting with Dovedale. Had that only been a coincidence?

  Mr. Thorpe hopped into the coach, giving Richard the better seat facing the front. “What I have to tell you is of the strictest confidence,” he began.

  “I am done with secrets,” roared Richard inside his own head. Out loud, he asked, “What makes you think that you should confide in me?”

  “You are an honest man. And, I know who the spy is.”

  Chapter 28

  “What do you know about a spy?” asked Richard, uncertain how to respond. He had said nothing of his investigation. The only ones who knew now, outside of himself and Dovedale, were Aunt Beatrice and Adélaïde.

  The crowded streets prevented the coach from moving at more than a snail’s pace, but Richard was more concerned with the gentleman before him than the speed of the coach.

  “Let me clarify some things. Bradley Thorpe is my real name, and everything I have told you about myself is true, though, if you think on it, you will realize how little that is.”

  Richard counted with the fingers of one hand what he knew about Mr. Thorpe. He was a doctor. He was the fourth son of a titled family, though now that he thought about it, he did not know where his family was from, nor any particular details about his relations. He knew the general direction of the gentleman’s residence, but did not know his address. Richard nodded. What Mr. Thorpe said was true enough.

  “Who do you work for?” he asked.

  “I work for a private agency with connections amongst the highest ranking government officials. It is our business to make sure that those entrusted with great responsibility maintain their loyalties to the proper sources. When we have grounds for suspicion, we investigate.”

  “I, too, was commissioned in the same manner,” Richard said dubiously.

  “You take orders from Lieutenant General Dovedale. I take orders from Lord Liverpool.”

  “The Prime Minister?”

  “One and the same. If you require further proof of my veracity, I have been authorized to arrange a meeting with his lordship.”

  Richard was taken aback. “You do not question my loyalty, do you?”

  “No. It took no time at all to clear your name, though I did have to look into you. It is unfortunate how things look from the outside. It has made you a target.”

  Richard was shocked. He had been assigned to find who was leaking information, not be put under investigation for being the traitor himself.

  “What made me appear to be a target?”

  “Your family connection with Miss Mauvier. She has the ability to move information around without drawing suspicion. And, recently, you have been spending a good deal more time with her than you have in the past. The evidence is damning against you.”

  Richard’s face felt warm. “Miss Mauvier is not involved in the least. If you were so good at clearing my name from involvement, do be so kind as to extend the same courtesy to her. I will hear nothing spoken against the lady.”

  Mr. Thorpe had the audacity to laugh.

  “I see nothing to laugh at. Her life was in danger from what you accuse her.” If the gentleman did not wipe the smile from his face, Richard was of a mind to remove it for him.

  Holding up his hands, Mr. Thorpe said, “I have been following you because of your connection with a certain individual under suspicion. I never implied that it was Miss Mauvier.”

  Richard pressed his back against the worn cushion, his relief great, his countenance subdued. It was Mr. Thorpe who had distracted the Mauvier household when he had fumbled his first— and he prayed, his last— break in.

  “Whom are you implying then?” He would have suggested Miss Maven, but did not want to reveal everything he knew before he was convinced that the gentleman held Adélaïde’s best interests in high regard.

  “Did you not think it odd that you, an unmarried colonel, should be assigned to look into the life of one single seamstress beneath your station?”

  Again, Richard felt his hackles rise. “She was born the equivalent of a viscountess in her country. I hardly think that puts her beneath me.”

  “The aristocracy in France is dead. It died in the Revolution.”

  “That means nothing. A lady is as a lady does, and Miss Mauvier is a lady through and through.”

  “I suspected that you thought highly of the lady, so I looked into her as much as I could.” To Mr. Thorpe’s benefit, he spoke in a kindly manner. Otherwise, Richard might have regretted his reaction.

  Richard sat forward in his seat. “And you found?”

  “That she is exactly what she seems. She is an honest businesswoman and an exemplary citizen. However, it is not Miss Mauvier who caused me to follow your comings and goings. I know that, given more time, you would come to draw the correct conclusion, but allow me to speed along the process. Why were you, of all people, assigned to look into Miss Mauvier’s affairs?”

  Richard had been so distracted by what he thought were accusations against Miss Mauvier, he had overlooked the question Mr. Thorpe had asked. At the time, it had seemed a reasonable request, but now… Richard’s heart sunk down to his toes as realization hit him. Surely, he did not mean— Richard could not even think the name.

  “Ah, I see you know of whom I speak, yet you do not want to think poorly of such a friend of your youth. Let me assure you, Colonel, Lieutenant General Dovedale is no longer the hero he once was.”

  “If you will speak against him, you had best give your proof. I do not take kindly to idle gossip.”

  Mr. Thorpe smiled. “I expected that you would demand nothing less. A couple of months ago, a group of French soldiers intercepted a shipment of supplies for our men in the North of Spain. Great lengths are taken to keep such important information secret, so we knew immediately that someone privy to the details must have leaked the information. The week before the shipment left, a thief had broken into the apartments of a recently arrived British Lieutenant Colonel and his wife. The only objects trifled with were her dresses, made by Miss Maven.”

  “Yes, Dovedale mentioned that incident. Only, he left out whom the dresses were from. How did you know the dresses came from her shop? And how did you connect the two incidents?”

  “She puts satin labels on the inside of her dresses with her initials on them. In these dresses, all the labels were cut out. We believe that the message was hidden under the label. It is genius, really.”

  “Then, why not arrest Miss Maven?”

  “If only it were that simple. You see, she is innocent of this particular crime. She is anything but honest, but she is not a spy. Did you know that Miss Maven is in charge of Mrs. Dovedale’s wardrobe? In fact, Lieutenant General Dovedale owes her a tidy sum. He owes many people.”

  Richard recalled an image of Dovedale at the gaming house. How did he not see it before? “And I blindly trusted him.”

  “You knew him when he was still a good man. You could not know that the years, the debts, and the pressures of a demanding wife would alter him.”

  Richard felt like a fool for being so gullible. Action was needed. He must do something.

  “I want to help. But how do I know I can trust you? There is not enough time to arrange a meeting with the Prime Minister. That could take days or even weeks.”

  “You do not know. I am afraid, Colonel, that you will have to trust your instincts.”

  Richard did not feel that his instincts were as trustworthy as he had formerly believed them to be, but if this man had the ability to right the wrongs done against himself and Adélaïde, he had to take a chance.

  That was when it hit him full force. Dovedale had guaranteed hi
m that Miss Mauvier was safe, but his word was not to be trusted. Why else was he so insistent that Richard leave the country so soon? His gut twisted in agony.

  “What can I do to assist you?” asked Richard.

  Mr. Thorpe took out an eyeglass, and polished it. “We will pay a visit to Dovedale this very afternoon. Your job is to get him to confess. Without a confession, all is lost, and I think you are very well aware of who would take the fall.”

  Chapter 29

  Pushing aside the sadness she felt, and the betrayal, Adélaïde held herself erect, hoping to exude confidence as she walked into the shop. Only a couple of the girls were there, some having gone in search of work elsewhere. Yvette was nowhere to be found.

  Adélaïde had to focus her mind on things she could control. She had to help Richard so that Lieutenant General Dovedale might think twice about sending him away. If she could be of some use, perhaps he would change his mind.

  “I heard her say that she wanted to see you,” said one of the girls.

  Another girl said, “I think she went to Miss Beatrice’s in search of you.”

  Could it be that Yvette, the woman she thought was her friend, had experienced a change of heart? Adélaïde could only hope.

  Turning to the new addition to her motley family, she softened her voice. “What is your name?”

  The girl, who looked to be older than Mary, said, “Emily, miss.”

  “Thank you, Emily.” Including Mary, she added, “I must return to Maman’s to determine Yvette’s involvement in this scheme. Mary, stay here with your Emily. Introduce her to the others, and make certain she feels comfortable. I appreciate your help, but right now, you must stay with your sister.”

  “No, miss. I will see you safely to Miss Beatrice’s house. Even I know that a lady should never venture out unchaperoned— especially a lady who has been accused of being a spy.”

  The girls gasped, staring at Adélaïde.

  Groaning inwardly, she said, “What Mary says is true, which is why I must fix this mess before things get out of hand.”

 

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