Page 89 of My Kind of Scoundel
Mr Gibbs nodded and asked for an update on their progress.
Theo told him about their visit to the emporium, and that Lady Lucille had hired men to follow them about town.
“Daventry came here yesterday, looking for you,” Mr Gibbs said. “He mentioned Wrotham uses a bookplate with two turtle doves. Though why the lord wants to deliver blank notes around town is a mystery.”
“We were hoping Lady Lucille might shed light on the matter.” She explained their plan to have Miss Franklin meet the lady in Hyde Park. “We’ve already sent the note purported to be from Miss Franklin. Lady Lucille should be waiting in Hyde Park at three this afternoon.”
“I doubt she will wait around once she sees us,” Theo said. “If we visit her at home, her father will ensure she never speaks to us again.”
Mr Gibbs scratched his head while observing Eleanor’s figure. “Happen you’re a similar height and build as Miss Franklin. And I saw a row of wigs upstairs. If you wore a disguise, you could get close enough to speak to her before she scarpers. Give her a reason to hear what you’ve got to say.”
Eleanor looked at Theo. “It might work. If we threaten to reveal her secrets, we might convince her to confess.” Confess to what? Eleanor had no clue. “It’s worth a try.”
Theo’s face was a picture of unease. “You’re not going alone.”
Her heart swelled at his concern for her welfare. “I could dress you in simple clothes and give you a flat cap. Jules could lend you his barrow.”
“I’m not pushing a barrow around Hyde Park.”
Eleanor chuckled. “If you want to come, you’ll have to wear a wig and an oversized greatcoat.”
Eleanor arrived at Hyde Park ten minutes early. She stood before the naked statue of Achilles, a grand monument to the Duke of Wellington, praying she looked remotely like Miss Franklin.
Miss Franklin rarely stood still, so Eleanor paced back and forth, wringing her hands and keeping her head slightly bowed. Few women gazed at the statue. Some had swooned before the sculptor covered Achilles’ genitals with a bronze fig leaf. But the statue was close to the gate, quite convenient for a lady who did not wish to be seen by the masses.
Theo ambled along the path behind a row of trees, pausing every few steps to ensure all was well. Looking menacing in a black wig and an enormous coat, people saw him and walked the other way.
In the distance, the bells of St George’s chimed the hour.
Long minutes passed before Eleanor spotted Lady Lucille Bowman strolling through the gates, her pretty parasol shielding her profile.
Eleanor turned her back, keen to draw the lady closer.
“What do you want, Anna?” Lady Lucille stopped behind Eleanor and tapped her shoulder. “We agreed not to meet again. We cannot be seen together in public. It won’t help my case if the inspector from the bank comes knocking.”
Taking a calming breath, Eleanor faced the lady hiding beneath the parasol. “I’m afraid Anna couldn’t come today. She was hurt in a robbery at the silversmith shop last night.”
Lady Lucille jerked in horror. Her pretty eyes darted over Eleanor’s dark hair and face in a look of utter disbelief. “Miss Darrow?”
“Forgive the deception, but I had to speak to you and knew you would not meet willingly.” When the lady paled and couldn’t form an articulate word, Eleanor added, “I know you stole my diary.” Anna Franklin lacked the courage to break into a person’s home. “I know you pushed me down the stairs to avoid detection. You hired men to follow us. You’ve been paying Lord Wrotham’s debts. We have the solicitor’s statement and those of his creditors.”
The last comment sparked a reaction. “Now I know you’re lying. A solicitor must keep his client’s confidence.”
“Ordinarily, but the Home Secretary gave me a letter forcing your solicitor to comply.” She reached into her reticule and showed Lady Lucille the document. “As you can see, your business dealings are a matter of national interest. Tell me your secret, or I shall have no choice but to visit you at home.”
Eleanor expected a verbal attack—the bite of a viper—but the lady’s hand shook violently, and her voice broke. “Stop this. You don’t know what trouble it will cause. It will be the death of me. I beg you. Walk away. Pretend I never asked you to deliver my silly notes.”
Paying a fiancé’s debts hardly warranted this reaction. It confirmed what Eleanor already knew, that they were unaware of the real problem.
Eager to ensure no one discovered the truth, Lady Lucille exclaimed, “Has a man ever hurt you, Miss Darrow? Has he ever treated you like your life doesn’t matter? If so, I beg you to show mercy and forget everything you have learned.”
Bitter memories of her father flooded Eleanor’s mind.The times he had forced her to stay awake all night because her stitches weren’t straight. The times she had cried herself to sleep believing she was wicked.
Being kindhearted, Eleanor’s resolve faltered. “There are good people in this world. Trust me. Tell me what you’ve done, and I will help you.”
Lady Lucille dabbed tears from her eyes. “No one can help me. The damage is done. I only pray that my actions have prevented a catastrophe.”
Good grief. She made it sound like the world was ending.
