Chapter 35
“One thing Adelaide knew for certain: Lord Swindle needed rescuing. And she’d lie, steal, and give every last ill-begotten farthing to her name to do it.”
Adelaide
“Olivia would die, or kill us all, if we left her out of this drama.” Lawrence argued with the others, one arm strung protectively about Noelle’s shoulders.
“Olivia cannot keep a secret if her life depends upon it,” Moria parried with a raised brow.
“Oh, I would not be so sure of that, sister” Blonde head held high like a queen despite her diminutive stature, Olivia entered the library of the Pembrookes’ London mansion. “Don’t think that I shan’t reveal what I know to the room at large about every one of you if the fancy strikes me.”
“Et Tu, Brutus?” Noelle replied.
Olivia gave a small “ha!” of laughter. “I could say the same of all of you. Keeping secrets about clandestine meetings and identities without any of you confiding in or involving me. Like I’m some small child.”
“Olivia–” Miss Kelley caught up with her at last, taking in the inhabitants of the room. Her mouth falling into a small “O” of surprise when she saw Noelle, as Adelaide.
“Lady Olivia,” she amended, “perhaps we should--”
Olivia held up a halting hand. “I think you all want to know what information I have.” Olivia made herself comfortable on the settee near the fireplace. Jasper and Lawrence both shifted, Moria and Adelaide -Noelle- looked at each other.
“The truth is that none of you give me the credit I deserve. If you looked closely, you’d notice that all my animals are not merely decorative; although they are all rather cute, aren’t they?”
The last bit, she added, pointedly holding up the infant rabbit in her hands, “At any rate, they all serve some purpose or another. The parrot for example is helpful at relaying messages, the dogs are useful at destroying incriminating evidence.”
“Woman, are you mad?” Lawrence let out. Noelle suppressed the urge to laugh.
“I am not mad, but I can tell you someone who is. Someone at the center of this particular little dramedy.”
They all leaned forward.
“Sir Cranmer.” Olivia said.
Who in bloody hell?
“Fitz’s uncle?” Three of the participants of the room crowed at once.
“Precisely,” Lawrence agreed, “and why I’ve sought out West’s help.”
Noelle, or Adelaide, spun the knife she was holding in her hands. Several of them eyed the weapon nervously. Time was of the essence and her siblings’ arguing and finger-pointing was taking up more than she was comfortable with.
“But his uncle lost. Fitz has fulfilled-“
“If you back out of the betrothal, Fitz doesn’t get anything but a meager allowance. The properties, the businesses, Pomfrey House and all of its belongings…go to Cranmer. He told Lawrence and me when we discussed your betrothal contract,” Jasper interrupted to argue.
One of Noelle’s hands clutched the knife in her hand.“You think Fitz’s uncle means to do something to stop the betrothal,” She said as a statement rather than a question.
Lawrence nodded.
Jasper swore.
Moria was silent as the grave, her hands at Noelle’s back.
“Are you sure Fitz didn’t….abscond with Noelle’s dowry?” Moria asked. Noelle looked back at her in shock.
Jasper shook his head. “There was little left, he urged me to put the bulk of it into a trust for Noelle and any children the two of them might have. The rest he put back into his estate for farm improvements and renovations.”
“He…did?” Noelle said, tears filling her eyes.
Jasper nodded. She looked away, finding it hard to hold them in, but something else stole upon her. Anger. She sank onto the settee.
“Are you afraid of your uncle? I got the morbs from seeing him with that imposing retinue that follows him around,” She’d pondered.
He’d given a harumph. “He’s the one who's afraid of me. I’m the biggest obstacle to him having what he wants.”
Why hadn’t she, the architect of a great drama herself, seen what was unfolding before her eyes? Had he been protecting her, lying to her about the threat his uncle posed? Even when she’d met his mother, she’d had an inkling something was amiss with the man; but she’d let Fitz put her at ease.
Noelle leaned into Miss Kelley opposite her for comfort, still holding Moria’s hand on her other side.
“What’s your plan, Lawrence?” Jasper asked.
Lawrence seemed to preen at the satisfaction of being the one in charge for once, rather than being ordered to do another’s bidding.
“I’ll tell you…”
A hooded figure knocked at the kitchen door belowstairs of the gothic behemoth on Temple Place.
A lace capped housekeeper reluctantly answered the door as though she were not expecting callers or visitors to the servant’s entrance.
“May I help ye?” she inquired.
Gloved hands pulled back the velvet hood to reveal a softly angled face with hazel eyes, shrouded by a large mass of expertly coiffed black hair.
“My lady, you should have called at the front of the house, I’m afraid it isn’t proper for you-”
The pretty young lady took the housekeeper’s hands. In a lowered voice, she said,
“I need your help with a confidential matter of some urgency.”
The housekeeper swallowed, paled, then nodded.
“What is your name?” the young lady asked.
“Mrs. Settle.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Settle. My name is Adelaide Farthington-” at the name she gave, the older woman pulled back, retreating farther into the downstairs hall.
“My apologies, my lady, I had heard of you, of course. Your story was…well, it was unforgettable. I wasn’t convinced-”
“That I wasn’t a figment of some over-wrought writer’s imagination?” she gave a convincing laugh, “I can assure you I am very much real and very much here, Mrs. Settle. And I very much require your assistance.”
“My assistance?” the woman’s wrinkled forehead wrinkled deeper.
Adelaide seated herself on a bench in the hall below stairs.
“Yes, you see…my publisher…Lord Ludlowe…I fear he’s in trouble. I shared my story and he was kind enough to believe in me, to ensure that the whole world was able to read it. Only, he’s gone missing,” she stood and stepped forward, placing a hand on the older woman’s wrist,
“And I know as well as any how much the unseen orders observe.”
The housekeeper was rapt, wringing her hands. “Sir Cranmer’s nephew, you believe he’s in danger?”
Accusatory shouts, hurled insults, possibly the sound of a bone being dislocated, and ominous thuds issued from upstairs as if on cue; both women turning to the sound. So, her brothers must be in Cranmer’s study, then.
“Indeed I do,” Adelaide breathed.
Mrs. Settle turned and walked down a corridor leading away from her and seemed to leave her there in the entry way for a time. The housekeeper returned, grim faced.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you, my dear lady. I’ve no information for you, though I greatly wish I could help,” she said in overly loud, dramatic intonations, though her eyes were kind.
She clasped Adelaide's satin gloved hands as though to demonstrate how sorry she was, but Noelle felt something graze her palm. The housekeeper had made a great show of refusing aid, while slipping her a note. How very clever.
Adelaide squeezed the other woman’s hands gratefully. “I thank you all the same, Mrs. Settle. Do send word to The Gladstone offices at once should you have information to share.”
“I hope you find what you seek, my dear lady.” Mrs. Settle said with a curtsey.
Once she had exited whence she came, Noelle, cloaked and hooded, read the words the housekeeper had penned:
Viscount Ludlowe was sold to The North Star at St. Katharine Docks. Hurry.
The hooded woman waited on the corner of Temple Gardens. As the carriage rounded the corner to turn onto the next street, it slowed to a stop to pick up its extra passenger. A footman helped her into the conveyance, where she took a seat beside the younger of the two brothers.
“Well?” The Earl questioned.
Noelle held out the piece of parchment to the Earl. He swore, then handed it to Lawrence.
“That lying pile of horse shit sold off his own nephew as a ship crewman?!” Lawrence’s deep voice bellowed.
Noelle nodded, looking down at her hands.
“You believe she’s correct?” Lawrence asked, steadying his younger sister with an arm around her narrow shoulders. God, she wanted to hope the housekeeper was wrong. Lawrence relayed the conversation with Sir Cranmer, which gave even more evidence that he was involved somehow.
Fitz had given her everything he’d said he would, but he was everything.
He’d given her dancing lessons that had made them both see each other in a different light.
It had probably been an excuse to hold her close, now that she looked back on it.
He’d danced with her the night of her debut, arranging a song for her.
He’d read her book and he’d championed her characters and he’d believed in her.
He’d given her the proposal of her dreams, and a book launch that was as legendary as Adelaide itself.
He’d told her he loved her, and more than that, he’d shown her how much it was true.
And, the worst part of it all, was that she hadn’t said it back. And now he was gone.
Noelle looked up at her brother, this time with knife-edge clarity: “I stand by the truth of Adelaide: the servants know all.”
Jasper beat on the roof for the coachmen to halt, then gave him new directions. He reentered the carriage determinedly with few words: “Good thing we brought our pistols. We’re going after him.”