Chapter Twelve
K ara stared. Another bakery box, this one sitting squarely in the center of her bed. Whoever was perpetrating this campaign, they had been in her bedroom. A wave of fury and dismay struck her, but she was forced to admit to a bit of vindication in there, too. She wasn’t imagining things. She let herself wallow in her immediate reaction for a moment, then deliberately swept it away as she called up determination instead.
She crept close enough to see the mark that proved it was indeed from Eliassen’s Bakery. When she turned, Niall gave her a stern look.
“This was not Petra Scot.”
“No,” she agreed. “It was not.”
She moved past him to open the door and call for her maid.
“Yes, ma’am?” Elsie came hurrying down the passage from the guest chamber that she and Gyda had turned into a sewing room as they raced to finish Gyda’s Nordic gown. The maid was clearly surprised to be summoned by her mistress at this hour of the day.
Kara stood in the doorway, opening it only a bit. “Elsie, did a parcel arrive for me today?”
“No, indeed.” The maid frowned. “Not that I am aware of.”
“Did you leave anything in here for me?”
“No, ma’am.” Elsie’s confusion was clear and genuine. “Were you expecting a delivery?”
“I was not.” Kara swung the door wide and beckoned the woman in. “Do you have any idea how that got here?”
Puzzled, Elsie ventured in. She curtsied to Niall, then stilled when she spotted the box. “Oh, no, ma’am,” she breathed. “Is that…?”
“It is.” Kara drew a deep breath. “Please go and send Turner up here, if you will. And would you ask around amongst the other maids? We need to know if anyone…strange has been spotted in or around the house today.”
“Yes, ma’am. Right away.”
But Turner’s instincts were still finely honed. He turned up in the passage outside just a moment or two after Elsie’s departure. As the door was open, he put his head inside. “Is there anything—” He stopped. “That’s not…?”
“It is.”
Turner entered, and together the three of them approached the bed. Niall gingerly reached out and flipped the box lid open.
“Butter biscuits,” Kara said with a sigh. But looking closer, she saw that each biscuit had a single bite taken out of it. “Good heavens. Is that supposed to be a threat?”
“Turner, have you found anything else about that would-be footman?” asked Niall.
“Nothing,” the butler said. “I sent one of the lads into the village to ask around again, but no one has spotted him.” He tilted his head. “Do you believe it is him, lurking about and leaving these nasty little signs?”
“He might be hanging around the vicinity, carrying out Petra’s agenda,” Niall mused.
Kara turned at a scratch on the door.
“Ma’am?” Elsie stood there, looking pale and troubled. “I think you had all better come downstairs and have a word with Prudence.”
With a shrug in Niall’s direction, Kara set off after her. They found the maid in tears. She sat in a parlor at the hearth, a bucket and her duster beside her.
Niall went immediately to soothe her. “There now, lass,” he crooned, taking her hand and leading her to a chair. “What has upset you, Prudence?”
“It’s my fault, sir.” A cascade of fresh sobs emerged. “I’m so sorry!”
Niall looked up at Kara, helpless before her tears.
She gave him a nod and took the seat next to the maid. “Prudence, no one is angry with you. No one is going to be angry with you. Just tell us what you think you have done.”
“Oh, miss! I mean, ma’am! I mean, Your Grace! I didn’t mean to!”
Kara gave the girl a pat and a moment to collect herself. “Prudence, does this, by chance, have to do with that candidate who came to ask for the footman’s position?”
Shuddering, the girl nodded.
“Tell us, won’t you?”
“I met him the first day he came, hoping for the job,” she whispered. “Jamie Horton. He had to wait for Mr. Turner to become available, and they sent him to sit in the servants’ hall. I was there, mixing up a batch of wood polish.” She looked up into Kara’s face. “He didn’t seem much like a footman. I thought he sounded so smart and funny. Witty. He made me laugh.” She looked down again. “And he flirted with me. I thought he truly admired me.”
“That was the day the biscuits were left in the laboratory, to the best of our knowledge,” Turner reminded them.
“Did you see him again?” asked Kara.
Shamefaced, Prudence nodded. “I told him that day that I’d heard that there was a footman needed at Wood Rose Abbey. He came back the next day to thank me, as he’d taken the position there. He said he was so grateful and he kissed my hand, just like I was a lady.”
“That was the afternoon that the first note was left on the front door,” Niall recalled.
“The next note was left on the day of my unfortunate oversight, I understand,” Turner said.
“The day of your unfortunate accident ,” Niall corrected him.
Kara looked to the maid. “Was Jamie here that day?”
Prudence nodded. “We had Mrs. Canning downstairs after the accident, and when His Grace took her home, she forgot her bag. Jamie turned up later, come to fetch it.” She looked indignant. “He tried to kiss me that day, right on the mouth. I didn’t let him, ma’am.”
Niall shook his head. “The wily little bastard set himself up with a good reason to come back and forth between the estates.”
“You mean, I was his excuse to come and make mischief?” Prudence asked. She was starting to sound angry. As she should.
“Was he here today?” asked Kara.
The girl nodded. “This morning. He said he was sent on an errand to the village and couldn’t help but stop to see me. It was flattering, Your Grace! But when I heard Elsie asking around, I started to count back, and it was then that I knew what he’d been up to. I cannot believe he had the cheek to go right into your bedroom, Your Grace!” A tear slipped down her cheek. “If he took anything, you can take the cost of it right out of my wages.”
“I don’t believe he did, so you may rest easy on that score.” Kara hadn’t even thought to check, but she would have Elsie take a look. She certainly wouldn’t tell Prudence if he had.
“I’m sorry I disappointed you,” the maid said sorrowfully.
“You have not. You didn’t know what he was up to, and when you understood, you came to us.” Kara bit her lip. “I’m sorry he used you in that way, and I hate to ask…”
“Oh, ask, please, ma’am!”
“If you could find a way to pretend you didn’t know about his perfidy, you might be able to help us nab him.”
Niall’s eyes widened. “Yes. Brilliant, Kara.”
Prudence looked up. “You mean I could help you and also get a piece of my own back?” She leaned forward. “What would you want me to do? Lure him in, like?”
“You won’t need to do anything whatsoever, for now,” Kara replied. “Just go on as if you know nothing. If he shows up again, however, if you could find a way to notify Turner or the duke…?”
“Of course! I’ll do anything to make it up to you!”
Kara stood. The thought that had been wiggling at the back of her mind would not rest. She paced to the window and back. “Niall, when you wrote to inform Robert Preston of Petra’s death, did he respond?”
“Yes.”
“And did he say whether he had discovered Tom Hawkins’s whereabouts?”
“He had not yet found him.” Niall’s brows suddenly shot high. “You do not think…?”
“You recall what Preston said about Tom’s pranks?”
Niall rose to his feet. “The apples! He filled Hanlin’s desk with apples, each with one bite out of it! Just like the biscuits upstairs. Odin’s arse! You think that Jamie Horton might actually be Tom Hawkins?”
“It’s not much to go on,” Kara admitted.
“But it does make a warped sort of sense.” Niall sounded excited. “I think we need to speak to Robert Preston again.”
*
Upon thinking it over, Niall persuaded Kara that it would be best for them to go into London to stay.
“We have the rooms above the coffee house in Adams Street. Think about it. If we go, word will spread. Jamie Horton, or whoever he is, will believe he’s accomplished his goal and frightened you. It will make him less likely to prance over here and mess about with Prudence.”
“Which will make it less likely that she might give the game away,” mused Kara.
“Exactly. And it will keep him at Wood Rose Abbey until we can talk to Robert Preston. I hope we can convince him to come down and see if ‘Jamie’ is truly Tom Hawkins.
“Perhaps we should ask Turner to stop over there and visit Mrs. Canning,” said Kara. “If he mentions we’ve gone to London, no doubt it will be discussed among the servants over there.”
“Excellent idea. And if we head up to Town this evening, we can be sure to stop in at Preston’s home early tomorrow, before he heads to Westminster,” Niall continued. “We might even convince him to come down here after his day is finished.”
“The sooner, the better.” Kara brightened. “And I can check in on Rose Martin, and see how she’s getting along with Rachel in the shop.”
They made the trip to the city after leaving instructions with Turner and Elsie, who would travel up to join them the next day. Niall gazed fondly about the apartment when they arrived, recalling the first time he’d been here—when they had been forced to make an unorthodox escape. Throwing Kara a grin, he crossed to the window and peeked behind the curtain.
“The plank should still be there,” she said with a laugh. “But I trust we will not be forced to use it.”
“You never know.” Niall put his hands on his hips and looked around again. “Stayme keeps telling me I should invest in a real townhouse in Mayfair, but I have a fondness for this place and the shenanigans we’ve got up to in here.”
They spent the evening visiting in the set of rooms next door, where Rose Martin was staying. Niall thought the young woman looked both sturdier and happier.
“I am so happy to have the chance to thank you both,” the young woman said, pouring tea. “Thank you for finding me a place here. Rachel has been everything welcoming and kind.”
“She says you have been a boon to her—a hard worker,” Kara replied. “She also says you have revolutionized the storing and ordering of her supplies.”
“I have a gift for organization. It’s one of the reasons I was asked to help teach the younger girls at school.” Her happiness dimming at the mention of her past, Miss Martin looked down at her twisting hands. “I heard that the Hanlins’ school has closed.”
“Indeed,” Kara said reassuringly. “Her Majesty strongly suggested that Matthew Hanlin find a new career. One that does not involve proximity to children or young women.”
Miss Martin drew a deep breath. “Thank you. It is easier to focus on my own future, knowing that.”
“What of your son?” Niall enquired gently. “Have you considered—”
“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “He is better off where he is, with a loving family. I will leave them happy. I will concentrate on making my own way in the world. And this is a good place to start.”
“I feel sure you will prosper,” Kara told her.
Later, after they had returned to their own rooms, she told Niall more.
“Rachel has been looking for someone, a partner with whom she might start another shop, in another part of the city. If Miss Martin continues to impress her, then I will back their enterprise.”
“Have I ever told you that you are a marvel?” he asked, pulling her in for a kiss.
“I believe you have,” she said, smiling against his lips. “But I wouldn’t mind if you took me to bed and told me again.”
*
The next morning, they set out very early to find Preston in his Bridge Street rooms, handily located in Westminster, close to his work.
He looked initially surprised to see them, but surprise turned quickly to gratitude when Niall held up a wrapped box with a covered pot of coffee and a platter of Rachel’s pastries.
“Well, then, come in, seeing as you’ve brought breakfast with you. But I cannot stay long,” he warned. “I must prepare for a meeting with Sir Charles Barry this afternoon.” He set out cups and dishes on a small table and then sipped the hot coffee. “What is this about, then?”
Niall cleared his throat. “First, Kara is worried that you might feel…conflicted about Petra’s death. We wish to offer our condolences, should you need them.”
“We understand that you were raised together,” said Kara. “That means something, no matter how it all turned out. No one could blame you for mourning her.”
Preston heaved a sigh. “I’ve wondered if I should feel something, but honestly, I only feel relieved. I’m happy she cannot stir up any more trouble. It’s a blessing to know that Tom will be free of her. If I can find him, that is.”
“We wanted to speak of him as well,” Niall admitted.
“Tom is in debt,” Preston said bluntly. “I learned that he owes gambling debts that he cannot pay. I hope it means that he is in hiding, and not in worse trouble than even I suspected.”
Niall exchanged glances with Kara. “It’s possible that we might know where he is hiding.” He told the engineer about their suspicions regarding the new footman at Wood Rose Abbey.
Preston just sat staring ahead for a moment before he spoke. “Hard as it is to imagine Tom as a footman, it seems exactly like something he would do—hide himself away from his creditors while doing Petra’s bidding.” He gave a sharp laugh. “Lord, but I wish I could see him bowing and scraping to some haughty butler! But instead, he’s probably sneaking food from the larder, hiding out back to smoke, and crawling up the maids’ skirts.”
“We were hoping you would see him at it, or at least travel down to Wood Rose Abbey to see if Jamie is truly Tom.”
The engineer downed the rest of his coffee. “Yes. Yes, so I will. But not today. As I said, I’ve a meeting with Sir Charles this afternoon and a great deal of work to complete beforehand. But I will make arrangements. I should be able to travel down tomorrow.” Standing, he shrugged into his coat. “Should I come to your estate to report, once I’ve seen him? If it is indeed Tom, I’ll drag him over by the ear.”
“No, we are staying on in Town,” Niall told him. “We have a gala opening to attend tomorrow evening.”
Preston shuddered. “Better you than me.”
Kara grinned. “Are you sure, Mr. Preston? I know we could procure you an invitation!”
“No, thank you, Duchess. I’m a builder, not a dancer. I’d sooner carry on a conversation with a plaster dauber than a debutante.” He shooed them out the door. “I hope you are right and I find Tom down there. I’ll send word, then, once I see your mystery footman.”