Chapter 5
Five
My appointment with Lady Longridge was pleasant.
I had asked Mr. Jarvis to wait. Rupert presented a different problem.
“No worry, miss,” Mr. Jarvis assured me. “The lad can stay with me. We get along right fine.”
That, of course, was always subject to Rupert’s mood at the moment, not to mention his appetite that often took him off on adventures. Yet, Mr. Cavendish had assured me that he’d had a fine meal earlier, courtesy of Miss Effie at the Public House.
Unfortunately, as I had anticipated, my meeting with Lady Longridge brought no new revelations in the matter of the missing necklace.
Yes, she remembered that Lady Ambersley had been wearing it, but there was some mishap with the clasp during a course of soup, and the necklace had dropped into her bowl.
Something that Lady Ambersley neglected to mention, although at the moment that didn’t seem cause for alarm. It appeared that said necklace had then been wrapped in a cloth napkin to be duly cleaned after supper.
Mr. Jarvis and Rupert then escorted me to my afternoon meeting with Lady Atherton. The residence was nearer St. James’s, and once again I left Rupert with Mr. Jarvis, although with some trepidation.
The property surrounding the Georgian manor was filled with trees, said trees filled with birds and undoubtedly a squirrel or two. Rupert did have a particular taste for squirrel, although a bird would do. He was most proficient at hunting both.
“I’ll keep an eye on him, miss. I have a bit of sandwich in me pocket that should do the lad.”
The ‘lad’ in question grinned at me. Never a good sign where food was involved.
Lady Atherton was somewhat older, of an age closer to that of my great-aunt, with various ailments that were not typical of my great-aunt.
“I do remember the incident with the necklace, yet it all seemed straight-forward. Lady Ambersley wrapped it in her dinner napkin and set it aside, and we carried on with supper.”
There was a common memory of the evening.
I supposed that it was possible that the necklace had been cleaned by a servant and then returned to Lady Ambersley.
Or there was always the possibility that it was still wrapped in the dinner napkin and now amongst the laundry.
It would require another visit with her.
I thanked Lady Atherton and returned to the coach, greeted by Mr. Jarvis with Rupert nowhere in sight.
“He needed a bit of airing off a short while ago, if ye get my meanin’. He should be back any time now.”
I did understand his meaning. However, his confidence in Rupert’s imminent return was open to doubt.
I called for him in the usual manner, then gave a loud whistle which did draw the attention of an elderly gentleman who passed in his coach.
Not one to stand on formality, I ignored the disapproving glare he gave me and whistled again.
Rupert soon appeared and I could only stare at the creature that dangled from his mouth. And still very much alive.
Traveling about with the hound had presented unique experiences in the past. At least this particular quarry was not bleeding.
I had been working with him in the past on a few commands, with varying success. Varying, as it did depend on his temperament of the moment if he chose to obey.
The commands were few, remembered from my childhood when my father had hunting dogs that included the first ‘Rupert.’ And then it was always questionable how this particular Rupert would react to a command.
“Give,” I told him in a firm voice, the usual command to release what a hound had in its mouth.
He cocked his head to the side, the poor squirrel struggling to free itself. I could only imagine Lady Atherton emerging and possibly fainting dead away at having a squirrel torn to pieces in the portico.
“If you do not release the poor thing, I will be forced to cut off all sponge cake.”
It was a thought, spoken in frustration, nothing more. Yet, Rupert promptly released the squirrel, which scampered off and then up the nearest tree.
Never underestimate the power of sponge cake, I thought, as Mr. Jarvis stared at me.
I ignored the obvious question and asked him to take me to Sussex Square. A conversation with my great-aunt was in order, as she undoubtedly knew both of the ladies I had spoken with.
I did have another reason for calling on her as well.
“Good afternoon, Lady Forsythe,” Mr. Symons, my great-aunt’s head butler, greeted me as I arrived at Sussex Square.
“Good afternoon. Is my great-aunt available? I didn’t call before setting out.”
“She is presently in the sword room with Miss Lily. I will have Jensen let her know of your arrival.”
I thanked him.
“Not necessary. I know the way,” I added and gave my coat and bag to the footman.
The sword room. Oh dear.
That conjured up visions of my aunt and Lily in full costume, swords drawn—blunted hopefully—and squaring off with one another. A situation fraught with frightening possibilities.
Aunt Antonia had given me lessons several years earlier, before I acquired professional lessons in Paris. And she was still strong and quite agile…for one who was near eighty-seven years of age. My concern was for Lily.
She was young, daring, and adventuresome to be certain, and with a bravado that might be considered reckless. I had visions of her attempting to outmaneuver my aunt, which might result in injury.
It was undoubtedly that protective instinct that Brodie had cautioned me about.
“Lady Montgomery has lived a long and most interesting life. And ye are the same—stubborn, too brave fer yer own good, and fierce when it comes to yer own. There is every possibility that she will outlive ye in spite of it all. Ye shouldn’t worry yerself.”
Yes, well. Far more easily said than done.
I took the staircase that led from the main floor to the second-floor chambers that included the sword room, then quickly traversed the long hall past other rooms, including my former bedchamber as well as my sister Linnie’s.
That also included the portrait room with all those rather colorful ancestors glaring down from gilt frames, and Aunt Antonia’s suite of rooms.
The portrait of our most notable ancestor, King William I, also known as William the Conqueror, was in the old part of Sussex Square, that was also referred to as the ‘fortress.’
He had been an austere fellow, obviously not at all pleased to sit for a portrait, considering the expression on his face. Or he was possibly suffering from gout or some other malady.
I did have a rather colorful ancestry.
The sounds reached me before I came to the entrance to the sword room. There was a curse in a voice I easily recognized, followed by a ballyhoo.
“Aha! Now I have you.”
I took a deep breath and prepared myself for mayhem, then entered the sword room, half expecting to see blood drawn.
Not precisely blood drawn, but the victor standing off her opponent with the tip of the rapier
“Oh, hello, dear. Do come in.” Aunt Antonia greeted me as she stood over Lily, who was sprawled on the carpet, cheeks quite colorful from her exertions. Or possibly a tad of embarrassment at having apparently been bested by an opponent four times her age.
“We were just having a go at it. Lily was curious about a certain move.”
“Are you all right?” I inquired, as my aunt stood back with a self-satisfied expression, and I extended a hand to Lily.
“Yes, very much so,” she replied, as she took my offered hand, and I helped her to her feet.
“The woman is dangerous!” she whispered in a side comment.
“She is competitive. Always has been,” I replied.
“I’m surprised that ye survived yer lessons with her.”
“Hmmm, yes, she was a bit younger and quite…” I searched for the word. Competitive came to mind.
“You must remember that she is descended from fierce ancestors,” I reminded her.
“Including a highwayman or two, a duke who was known for the number of opponents he bested, and several others of somewhat dubious character and skill with both a blade and pistol. And she cannot be trusted to follow the rules,” I added.
Lily grinned. “As I have learned. She is quite marvelous, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is.”
“What brings you to Sussex Square, dear?” Aunt Antonia inquired as she removed her mask and tucked it under one arm. “Have I forgotten an engagement?”
“Not at all. I’ve taken an inquiry case for Lady Katherine Ambersley and have questions that I thought you might assist with.”
“Kitty Ambersley?”
“The same.”
“Let me change out of my costume, and I will join you in the small drawing room.” She reached out and gently cupped Lily’s chin.
“Are you quite all right, dear?”
Lily assured her that she was.
“I will be more aware of yer feint next time.”
“I am warned,” Aunt Antonia replied as she set off for her private chambers.
“Brodie is not with you?” she asked as I joined her in the small drawing room with Lily.
“Hmmm, no,” I replied. “He is making inquiries in another matter.”
She was quite fond of him
“Of course. Now, do tell me, what is this business with Kitty Ambersley?”
I explained what there was to know about the inquiries I was making, which was not a great amount of information.
“That damned necklace,” my aunt commented as she poured us a dram of whisky. “You must know that it is not the first time the thing has gone missing.”
“It has happened before?”
“Oh my, yes. Twice that I can think of. She eventually found it in the bodice of a gown she had been wearing, as I remember it. The second time, it was found by a servant in a bowl of gin punch at a holiday celebration. She is quite fond of gin,” she added with a sniff of disapproval.
“I have never been able to understand that preference when there is excellent whisky available. She insists that it is a man’s drink,” she added as she raised her glass in a toast.
“I suppose Sir Ambersley tolerates her ridiculous habits due to her family being very well off and he a lawyer, although quite successful, I hear.”