The Debutante: A Regency Mystery (The Sinclair Society Book 2)

by Bethany Swafford

  A shrug of the shoulders was all I got. “I don’t know. It’s the one with the scowl on his face.”

  Well, that removed Mr. Melbourne from the list of suspects. Again, the one who would not have been my first guess. “Does he live here in Bath?”

  “How would I know? He was mighty keen on you. Let me go already. I done told you all I know.”

  This time his foot met my ankle and I yelped in pain. Despite that, I refused to let the boy go, though. “Much to my great misfortune, I have had far too many men ‘keen on me’ as you put it,” I told him. “Now, I need you to describe the man to me. What does he look like, besides being tall.”

  “Why would they all be interested in you?” the boy impertinently asked. “You’re not pretty. All you do is run to those shops or out to that cemetery or to stare at the sea. You don’t do anything interesting.”

  “That is beside the point. Describe the man before I find the watch and tell them you’re a thief.” An empty threat, but it seemed to do the trick.

  “He wears a fine suit. He has brown hair. Most people smile, but when they walk away, they whisper like they don’t like him none. I suppose they don’t. he doesn’t seem like a nice man.”

  “Brown hair? Not dark?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  Not Mr. Harper then, for he had dark hair. My grip slackened, and the boy pulled free. He darted off, gone to report back to Mr. Ingram no doubt. Is that how he knew about my brother’s letters because he’d hired a boy off the streets to watch my every move.

  “How dare he!”

  Mr. Ingram had wealth and position, so he could dare a lot of things. Such as how Daniel Dunbar dared to try forcing himself on me. Such was the way of things with those who had the upper hand.

  Taking a deep breath, I straightened my spine and began walking. Once I had someplace to lay my head, I could start to plan what I would do next and how I would return home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As Mrs. Dobbs had said, Mrs. Smith’s house was modest but in a pleasant location. The week’s rent she charged was reasonable, though I felt the dent in my savings keenly. I was soon settled in a room not much bigger than the one I had enjoyed at the Dunbar house, one which I would have to share with another young woman. This room, however, had the blessing of a lock and key.

  In the interest of remaining out of sight of the gentleman I would prefer not to see, and because I was next to exhausted from lack of sleep, I stayed in the room for the rest of the day. After a long, refreshing nap, I laid out the copies I’d made of those cryptic messages I’d found among my brother’s personal letters. One way or another, I was intent on making some headway on solving the mystery of those numbers now that my time was entirely my own.

  The one message that I’d taken care not to give to Mr. Ingram was at the top. It had been partially deciphered at some point. My previous turns at studying it had seen a pattern: the numbers were written in groups of two. Given that under a few of the pairs was a single letter and under one of the pairs was a whole word, made me think some book, an essay, or maybe even a letter had been used to compile the message. Perhaps the basic words were contained there and larger, more complicated words needed to be spelled out.

  If only I knew what was used to create the code!

  As the light dimmed, I finally straightened up. “If Jonathan began to solve the puzzle, he must have had the essay or book near him to do this much. But what could it be? Had it even been Jonathan to work out the solution?”

  The door handle jiggled behind me. “For crying out loud, why is this locked?” an unfamiliar voice said through the wood. A moment later, the girl said in a much louder tone of voice, “Open up! I don’t have my key on me. Mrs. Smith has supper on the table, and she won’t wait for anyone. I need to change before I go down.”

  “Yes, I’m coming. Just a moment,” I answered, raising my voice to be heard. My stomach rumbled, letting me know that while I had not thought of food, it had been hours since I'd last had anything to eat. I needed to eat something before I became ill. “I’m sorry.”

  I unlocked the door, and a slim, brown eyed girl pushed past me. “What a day,” she said, going straight to the mirror. “You must be Julie Nelson. Mrs. Smith told me I would be sharing with you. I’m Mary Harrison.”

  She didn’t seem to want a response, so I didn’t try to form one. Slowly, so as not to draw attention, I folded my papers and slipped them into my reticule. Leaving the other girl to change in privacy, I exited the room.

  There were several women of varying ages who were already gathered at the table in the kitchen. A maid set the last dish on the table and then took the only seat available right next to me. Mrs. Smith gave a nod and then it was every woman for herself to get the food on her plate.

  While everyone else chattered about the work they had done or the search they’d made for a position, I kept quiet. No one seemed to take notice of my silence with each one caught up in her own affairs. The din would have matched any ballroom in society.

  “Miss Dunbar is on the hunt for another maid,” someone further down the table said, her voice louder than the rest. “Seems her brother tried to have his way with her last one and paid the price for it. I don’t know anyone who would be fool enough to accept a position there.”

  My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I glanced in the young woman’s direction. Everyone else was murmuring over the news. “Miss Ellison, you know how I feel about gossip,” Mrs. Smith said sternly. She kept from looking directly at me, though she knew the circumstances that had brought me to her house.

  “This isn’t gossip!” Miss Ellison said, her tone offended at the accusation. “I heard it from Amy Jones, the doctor’s daughter, you know. They need someone to help nurse Mr. Dunbar back to health, but my looks make it impossible for me to take the position.”

  I wasn’t entirely convinced of that. She was much older than me, and her hair was not a natural yellow. Her face had the scars of smallpox. “Daniel Dunbar wouldn’t be interested in the likes of you,” one of the other girls stated derisively. “But tell us, what happened to him? What did the maid do to him that he requires nursing?”

  “Girls, that is quite enough,” Mrs. Smith said reprovingly, but her words were not enough to put an end to the conversation.

  “Well, according to Amy Jones, the maid had finally had enough of Rose Dunbar and said she was done,” Miss Ellison reported, clearly relishing telling the story. “Mr. Daniel thought his chance had come and he followed the woman up to her room. But when he tried to overpower her, the maid stabbed him!”

  “Oh, I don’t think I could ever be that brave,” a small, frail-looking girl, who worked for a laundress, if her work story was any indication, said, in a breathless tone. “What happened to her? Is she going to be hung?”

  I couldn’t keep from swallowing hard at that. “The family wouldn’t risk dragging their name through scandal,” Mrs. Smith said, taking charge of the conversation. “Now, I ask you: did the lady’s maid do wrong in defending herself as she did? Or should she have given in to the man’s desires?”

  For a moment, the other women at the table fell silent, exchanging uncertain glances. “Of course she is in the wrong,” Miss Ellison spoke up first. “What kind of woman carries with her a weapon which could be used to harm someone? Besides, a man’s attentions are not so horrible.”

  The desire to defend my actions rose within me. “Never say so!” one of the other girls exclaimed before I could say a word. “A girl’s greatest prize is her reputation and virtue. She did not desire the man, who I’ve heard such terrible things about how he forces himself on whomever he pleases. No doubt she warned him to take himself away. The poor girl did just as she ought to have done, in my opinion.”

  Mrs. Smith sent a pointed glance at me, and I guessed she had asked the question for a purpose. Not everyone would look kindly on what I had done or believe I had acted in the best way possible. Some would, but the majorit
y would no doubt condemn my actions if they knew.

  What mattered was that I felt I had done the best I could in an intolerable position. What did I care what others, who did not know the whole of the matter, thought of what I had done?

  “So, Miss Nelson, where do you come to us from?” someone asked, changing the subject. Everyone’s attention went to me.

  “I was dismissed from my position as lady’s maid last night,” I said, keeping the details as vague as possible. “I plan on returning to London as soon as possible if I cannot find a suitable place here.”

  There were various exclamations of “London!” “How fortunate you are!” “Some girls have all the luck!”

  Miss Ellison, though, stared at me with open suspicion. “You were dismissed on the same night as the maid from the Dunbar house, you say?”

  “I assure you it was not planned.”

  “I suppose next you will say you carry a knife on you to protect just as that woman did.”

  No one else seemed to catch on to her insinuations. “Oh, I nearly forgot! I saw Susie Meyers walking out with the butcher’s son!” the laundress’ assistant exclaimed. “She was looking as pleased as could be with the situation. I expect she thinks to be engaged any day now.”

  “Or in trouble, the silly girl. Doesn't she realize he has stepped out with four other girls this year?”

  The conversation shifted once again. I didn’t ignore how Miss Ellison kept sending puzzled looks in my direction. However, I refused to give away anything that could be used against me. I’d already had enough of that as it was.

  WHEN MORNING DAWNED the next day, I couldn’t bear to sit and stare at those infuriating numbers. Deciding that if I avoided the locations where members of society frequented I would be safe enough, I set out on a walk. I needed to make arrangements for my correspondence to be delivered to Mrs. Smith’s house instead of at the Dunbar house. I needed to speak to Mrs. Dobbs one last time.

  Sally answered my knock at the servants’ entrance and rushed to bring Mrs. Dobbs to me. The kind housekeeper agreed to make sure my letters were delivered to me, handed me two letters that had arrived, and passed on the information that Mr. Dunbar, the father, had sworn not to send the law after me. Daniel Dunbar was confined to his bed, and his father had threatened to send both of his children to the country for the foreseeable future, ashamed of their behavior.

  I walked away, feeling somewhat lighter at heart. Just because Mr. Dunbar had said he wouldn’t pursue a punishment now didn’t mean he wouldn’t change his mind in the future. With any luck, though, I would soon be far from Bath, never to see the Dunbar family again.

  As I made my way along the less traveled streets, I happened to make eye contact with a familiar man. Adam Melbourne tipped his hat, and I inclined my head in acknowledgment, He, much to my chagrin, took it as encouragement to approach, and he hurried to my side.

  “Why, Miss Nelson!” he exclaimed, his gray eyes sparkling with delight. “Just the maid I have been searching for. I must thank you! Without your hints, I doubt I would have found the happiness that I now enjoy. You see before you the happiest and most content man in Bath.”

  “Then, you have abandoned all hope of gaining Miss Dunbar’s affection?”

  “I was a fool to think she could be the light of my life,” he emphasized. “And I was blind not to see the faults her beauty hid from the world. Miss Anderson is a true angel, and I hope to make her mine before too long.”

  I shook my head. “This is a sudden change of heart indeed, Mr. Melbourne. One might wonder if such a drastic alteration of sentiment could be sincere or able to last for any duration of time.”

  A frown creased his forehead. “I assure you, this time my feelings are true. The unfortunate obsession I had for Miss Dunbar was puppy love, and I have you to thank for leading me to see her for who she truly is. To be seen coming in from the dark, with Ingram of all people, in the kind of state she was in-” He broke off, shaking his head. “But I am not one to gossip or help ruin the reputation of a lady.”

  Had Miss Dunbar ruined herself? No wonder she’d been so angry when she dismissed me. “Yes, gossip does nobody any good and causes only harm,” I said. Though she had been cruel and had brought the situation on herself, I could feel some pity for the young woman. “But, sir, you are aware that Miss Anderson has held a different gentleman in her heart these past few years. She may not be ready to forget him.”

  “She told me of her engagement to my old friend, and of her constant affection for Sinclair, though he has been dead these five years,” he said, dismissively waving his hand. “I will not press her until she has had time to consider the matter. She is worth the wait, even should I need to wait until I am old and gray.”

  A laugh left my lips before I could control myself. “Goodness, you have become poetic, Mr. Anderson.”

  “My angel has a fondness for poetry.” His neck reddened with embarrassment. “It is how Sinclair won her heart, you know. He would quote Shakespeare to her. I could hardly fail to do so myself, now could I?”

  The laugh that bubbled up at his words stalled on my lips. Shakespeare! Why had I not thought of the poet sooner? He was well known beyond my own country, and anyone educated would know the plays and sonnets. And the numerals in the corner referred to which sonnet was the key to decoding the message!

  “Miss Nelson? Are you well?”

  With a start, I realized Mr. Melbourne was staring at me in concern. “Forgive me, but I must continue on my way,” I said, struggling to get my bearings.

  “Of course, I would not want you to suffer for taking too long on your errands. Thank you, Miss Nelson. If there is anything I can do for you, you have only to ask.”

  He didn’t know of my dismissal, and I chose not to enlighten him. I bobbed a quick curtsey and came as close to a run as I was able to, to get back to my room.

  If I was right, I could finally decipher the messages.

  MRS. SMITH STEPPED out of my way when I entered the house, so I imagined I had a terrifying expression on my face. With Miss Harrison out, I was able to lock myself alone in the room. I pulled the notes from my reticule and laid them side by side. They each had different numerals in the top left-hand corner, and I decided to leave the one until I was sure my guess was correct. As I had remembered, the one my brother had begun to solve was XXIIVII.

  “Twenty. Two. Eight.” Those last two numbers were familiar, but it took several minutes before I realized why. “As You Like It! Act 2, scene seven. All the world’s a stage. It was the twentieth play by Shakespeare to be performed. Of course!”

  My brother and I had spent many hours, whenever he was home during the summer, to see which of us could remember the most sonnets. Drawing on my memory, I wrote out the speech from As You Like It, so I would be able to reference it and then work out how the numbers corresponded to the words.

  6-27 13-6 13-7 13-8. 28-1 11-8 26-1 26-2 26-3 26-4 26-5 26-6 5-5 3-12

  Once I had it in front of me, it was only a matter of time before the message was deciphered. Though most were full words, a few were specific letters, which took me longer to work out. Finally, though, I read the entire message aloud: “S quick in quarrel. Sans soldier sound that ends this strange eventful history. CI.”

  Breathing out, I sat back and stared at the words. “‘S.’ That has to mean Jonathan,” I said, thinking rapidly. “‘Quick in quarrel?’ Is that a warning that my brother had discovered something and intended on turning them into the authorities? ‘Sans soldier.’ Without him there, they could continue their activities.”

  ‘Ends this strange eventful history’ was an almost exact line from the speech in As You Like It. There was no doubt in my mind that it hinted at ending my brother’s life. My gaze focused on the final two letters of the brief message: CI.

  “Conrad Ingram.”

  The man who had blackmailed me was the same man who had killed my brother?

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I should h
ave guessed. I should have known! That explains why he wanted Jonathan’s letters. How could I have been so blind?”

  Of course, knowing the reason behind Mr. Ingram’s actions did not make me any less angry with him or myself. If anything, my fury grew. “That churlish, dog-hearted...!” Even Shakespearean insults—highly appropriate for the situation, I thought—failed to convey my feelings about the man. Perhaps Aunt Beth would have been able to provide the right words, and no doubt if I ever told her, she would enlighten me.

  How Mr. Ingram must have laughed at me! He could not have failed to guess what had brought me to Bath and the information I sought. I’d known he enjoyed manipulating people, but I hadn’t realized just how much he’d been manipulating me.

  “Clever, clever, clever,” I said, glaring at the note. What better person than a master blackmailer to use for information? And the man apparently had no qualms about to whom he sold the information; Mr. Ingram had said he had to make a living at it. How much had his actions extended the war? How many lives had been lost because of him?

  No one would have reported him, either, so he must have felt secure. Had any defied him, as I had done, he would have destroyed them with what he held over them. It was doubtful that any of his victims had ever escaped his grip. If he hadn’t already revealed my secret to all of Bath society, I, at least, now had something that would keep me from his clutches.

  He would not want this message, which he did not know I had a copy of, to ever be known. He would discover it was not so pleasant to be on the other side of the situation. While I knew it was not enough for me to blackmail him, it would keep him silent in return for my silence.

  Is this what Mr. Harper had been warning about? Had he guessed Conrad Ingram knew something about me and I’d been working for him? Had he tried to strike a bargain with the man to learn my secret?