Chapter 11
After several more dances and a generous supper, Georgina decided nearly everyone at the ball had seen her.
Should Mrs Gardner ever accuse her of housebreaking, she would find herself up against nearly two hundred members of the ton, swearing Miss Pace had been at the ball the entire evening.
She slipped away unnoticed, leaving Colt to continue referring to her presence long after her departure.
Whilst her beautiful gown had served the purpose of drawing eyes to her at the ball, this was not the effect she desired when breaking into a house in the middle of the night. She returned home to Half Moon Street to change her raiment.
In her dressing room, she deftly unfastened her gown and laid it on the daybed.
She pulled out a pair of riding breeches, a shirt, boots and a jacket, all in black.
Dressed again, she tied her hair back in a simple knot, donned a long black greatcoat to shield her from the chilly air outside, slipped a hairpin into her pocket alongside her trusty fob watch, and crept out of the house, collecting a bag from a cupboard as she went.
She intended to find Arthur’s IOUs and escape unnoticed.
However, if something went wrong, she would have to make the theft look like a regular burglary.
She decided rather -prudently not to arm herself.
If someone caught her, she had no intention of injuring anyone or taking this whole affair to a more sinister level.
Even as morning approached, darkness and fog blanketed London. It was too far to walk on foot, so Georgina set forth for Grosvenor Square, where she located a carriage and was soon dropped off at St James’s Square.
A few people still occupied the street. The watchman’s voice, calling out the hour, echoed in the distance.
He would not pass through here for a while, at least. She waited for the street to clear, and her dark, cat-like figure slipped down the side stairs to the area outside the kitchen and attendants’ quarters.
Retrieving the hairpin from her pocket, her nimble fingers twisted it into the bolt until it clicked and released.
Georgina learned this skill as a girl. Her father had remained a warm and indulgent man after her mother died, though he employed a rather strict governess to preside over the schoolroom.
She used to lock Georgina in her chamber as punishment for any of her misdemeanours, of which there were many.
This forced the willful Georgina to use her wits to identify a way out.
A strong-minded young lady, she was bright and resourceful.
She studied the latch and attempted to pry it open with assorted implements.
Though she had success using a variety of wires and rods, she found a hairpin to be the most efficient device.
On entering Mrs Gardner’s unoccupied kitchen, Georgina warily looked around, glad only an eerie silence confronted her.
She moved into the attendants’ parlour, where a few candles guttered in the darkness.
The fireplace showed no hint of glowing embers from the evening before, even though most of the staff would have only just found their beds after a busy night serving and feeding Mrs -Gardner’s boisterous guests.
Getting caught housebreaking would surely signify the end of her current existence.
She recognised how distraught her father would be if she were locked up in Bow Street.
Moreover, if they convicted her of a criminal act, it would irrevocably cut the social -connections and freedoms she currently enjoyed.
Georgina’s eyes darted in every direction, and she listened for any tiny sound.
She eased through the lower level, stepping into the shadows as the waif-like form of a young scullery maid passed, carrying a bucket from one room to another, sloshing water over the floor as she went.
Georgina held her breath. If the girl had looked her way, she would have spotted her.
Perhaps she had arrived too late in the morning, and the possibility of being discovered was now too great.
Clenching her teeth, Georgina knew she had to take the risk to find Arthur’s vowels. Once the girl disappeared, Georgina slipped over to the staircase. The foyer stank of stale smoke and a hint of mildew.
It would be daybreak soon. All the revellers and gamblers would have left the establishment not long ago, many with considerably lighter purses.
She did not expect Mrs Gardner to emerge soon, though Georgina knew the girl with the bucket would be the first of many setting about restoring the residence. She needed to move quickly.
Georgina speculated that Mrs Gardner would likely keep assets in a desk or perhaps concealed in a locked compartment somewhere. If it proved difficult to find, she would need an alternative plan. She could not turn the house upside down searching.
She opened one door and peeked inside. The shapes of the furniture suggested she had stumbled upon a sitting room; however, it did not boast a bureau.
The second door she tried offered more success.
Creeping into the study, she lit the candle on the desk, illuminating the contents of the drawers.
Georgina pulled out a pile of papers and leafed through them.
They were only bills. Her eyes widened in astonishment at the outstanding amount owed to a fashionable modiste.
She enjoyed a comfortable fortune and liked to dress well herself, but even she did not spend so extravagantly on attire.
This knowledge further fuelled her determination to assist Arthur and teach Mrs Gardner not to take advantage of those who could not protect themselves.
To her ultimate annoyance, however, she could not find the documents she sought in any of the drawers.
She considered that Mrs Gardner might always keep them close to her.
Bold enough to commit burglary, Georgina did not choose to tempt fate further by breaking into Mrs Gardner’s bedroom while she slept.
She blew out the candle and sat in the dark, collecting her thoughts.
With every moment she spent in the building, the chance of her being caught and the attendant consequences increased.
She bit her lower lip and smiled as another viable solution -suggested itself. It came with its own risks, but she could not leave empty--handed.
Having visited Solitaires earlier that week, Georgina recalled the location of the gaming rooms on the first floor, towards the rear of the dwelling. She navigated there and shut the door behind her.
The smell of cigars, spilled wine and an unpleasant hint of salmon lingered in the room.
During the hours she had feigned being foxed, Georgina had covertly observed the games.
She realised she could do little to prevent the proprietor from cheating her patrons through sleight-of-hand tricks, but she suspected Mrs Gardner used a range of methods to rob her guests.
Mrs Gardner’s faro box, for example, made it difficult for the house to lose.
If, as Georgina suspected, someone had rigged the device to favour the bank, it would be invaluable to Mrs Gardner.
Luckily, it rested in plain sight on a round mahogany table.
Picking the device up, Georgina studied it for a moment and placed it into her bag. She had not intended to steal a faro box, but Georgina suspected this item would serve as an excellent incentive for Mrs Gardner to relinquish Arthur’s IOUs.
Georgina wandered over to another table laden with clean glasses and a decanter of Burgundy.
She poured herself a generous portion and sipped it as she explored.
The first rays of dawn peeped between the thick drapes, exposing more of the room, and she could make out assorted shapes around her. A sofa, a trestle table, a candelabra.
“It’s very late to be calling,” a muffled voice said.
Georgina’s eyes shot towards the door. For the briefest moment, she thought Mrs Gardner had directed those words at her, but then she realised the door remained closed. Panic seized her and squeezed the air from her lungs.
The sound of footsteps stopped just on the other side of the door, and through the dim light, Georgina watched the handle turn slowly. She had to hide.
In a flash of panic, Georgina released the glass of wine, which fell onto the carpet with a muted thump, the contents soaking into the threads of the rug.
She mouthed a silent curse and crouched down behind a pair of wing chairs nearest to the window.
The darkness that shrouded the room meant her blackened figure remained concealed by the shadows of the chairs—or so she hoped.
She lowered her pale face to avoid detection.
She was grateful she had taken the time to go home and change out of her bright red gown.
Two pairs of footsteps entered the room as the door swung open. Mrs Gardner’s voice drew closer to her. “What brings you here? I thought you were spending the evening at the Blakes’s ball?”
Mrs Gardner and her companion had brought candlesticks with them. Darkness no longer cascaded about her. Georgina ducked lower, wishing she could dissolve into the rug along with her wine.
“I did. It’s practically dawn. But I thought to call in briefly on my way home. Forgive me if I woke you.” Lady Mortimer’s familiar voice sent ice through Georgina’s veins, even as heat rose to her cheeks.
There could be no denying the lady’s association with Mrs Gardner now. But what did it entail?
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” A creaking noise sounded from the sofa, and Georgina presumed Mrs Gardner had sat down. A knot formed in her throat. Good grief, hopefully this was not the start of an improper rendezvous.