“I’ve only just arrived in England. I’ve put myself completely in Lady Phyllida’s hands, and so far, she’s been full of surprises.” Oh, my, yes. She seemed to be recalling all the skills she hadn’t needed in nearly twenty years. I doubted that after this investigation was over she would be satisfied to live with a mere bookshop owner. Especially if that bookshop owner found Ken Gattenger was involved in the death of her beloved cousin. The possibility dropped a boulder onto my heart.
Lady Bennett gave me a vicious smile. “My sister and her husband are due to arrive in just a few days, probably before we leave for Lord Harwin’s. I look forward to introducing you to them, since you never had the opportunity to meet them in Singapore.”
I gave her a wide-eyed innocent gaze in return. “That’s very kind of you, but they might not approve. Neither Edgar nor I were important enough to know the colony’s rulers.”
Then I sent up a prayer this investigation would be over before the Chattelsfields arrived.
* * *
SIR HENRY SAW us into our rented dwelling and then drove off as soon as we went inside. We’d no sooner shut the door when the footman answered a knock. It was Blackford. “Was the evening instructive?” he asked.
My insides sank with fatigue. I was going to have to learn to get by on very little sleep if I planned to spend any time in my bookshop. “You might as well come upstairs. Sir Henry has file drawers full of ship blueprints. It would take longer than I had to go through them all to see if the stolen plans were mixed in with drawings he has legally.”
Phyllida reached the parlor first and collapsed into a chair. “When will this heat wave end?”
I stood by an open window and fanned myself with my hand. “How did you manage to sit in the same row as us? We didn’t know we were going until this afternoon.”
“After I spoke to you, I found out where you would be seated and exchanged the seats next to you for other tickets. Winky Cavendish was most happy to oblige.”
I resisted the urge to ask who Winky Cavendish was and what Blackford had paid to get him to “oblige.” I was more interested in who Lady Peters was and whether she and the duke were an item. “Have you known Lady Peters long?”
“Actually, I’d known her late husband much longer. He died four years ago, leaving her in a delicate condition. Fortunately for her, the child was male, so she gave birth to the current Lord Peters. She’s a lovely woman. You’ll like her. And she’s frequently squired about by Sir Henry Stanford.”
“So you and she aren’t—”
“Good grief, no, Georgia. You are not coming between me and a lady friend.” He paused for a moment, shook his head, and said, “But that’s not your concern. Worry about catching the burglar and finding the plans for the warship before they end up in German hands.”
I set aside my surprise and relief at his words and said, “I’ve been thinking. The drawings would be easy to pass in the privacy of a carriage before or after a dinner or a theater performance. Then it wouldn’t matter how bulky they are. And have you considered the drawings might come into the embassy wrapped around fish or greens from a nearby shop?” There were too many ways to get those warship plans into the embassy. This was a hopeless enterprise.
“I hope, Georgia, the Germans aren’t as clever as you. We’re watching every time they go to the shops and markets. Their mail is being examined—”
“That’s illegal.”
The duke was in front of me in an instant, leaning forward and glaring into my eyes with a frightening intensity. “The Germans must be stopped from getting their hands on those plans. I don’t exaggerate when I say Britain’s future depends on it. Everything else is secondary.”
I put my hands up, palms out, to stop him, but I immediately bumped up against the front of his coat. The wool was smooth and fine, like thick satin under my fingers. I was close enough to smell smoke and old dust on his fresh linen. And close enough to see in his eyes that arguing would be pointless. “All right. We will stop them. What have you been doing besides bartering theater tickets and reading other people’s mail?”
“Seeing to my interests, and my country’s interests.” Our gazes remained locked.
There was one point Fogarty couldn’t get the answer to and the duke hadn’t told us. “Why is Scotland Yard holding Ken Gattenger for the murder of his wife if they believe the Germans are trying to get their hands on the warship blueprints? That has to argue for a third party.”
“They believe Gattenger was a willing participant in the theft, and Clara’s death was due to her objection to his treason.”
“Kenny wouldn’t have killed Clara,” Phyllida said quietly, staring straight ahead.
Blackford softened his tone. “Perhaps it was an accident. One he couldn’t prevent.”
“Why would he commit treason?” I asked.
“Money. The Germans have offered him much more than Her Majesty for those designs.”
“But the Admiralty has them.”
“He could sell them twice. The Germans were willing to pay for an identical copy slipped to a so-called burglar. Gattenger could make a fortune and not appear to be a traitor. It pains me to tell you, Georgia, but the government found a letter from the Germans offering Gattenger a large sum of money for a set of the drawings. They believe Gattenger agreed. He was seen talking to a German agent two nights before the murder. Gattenger is staying in prison, charged with murder and treason.”
As much as I wanted to doubt the government’s evidence, the set of his jaw deterred me from questioning him further at that moment. I knew the futility of contradicting him when he was in a mood. At least he didn’t appear to like the current situation, either.
Now I knew what the evidence was that Fogarty had heard rumored.
“I don’t believe it.” Phyllida walked out of the room, shutting the door softly behind her.
I turned and looked out the open window. Heat lay on the city like a shroud. There wasn’t a breath of air anywhere. No one would want to do anything more energetic than read, and here I was, away from the bookshop every afternoon. “Will we be going anywhere tomorrow night?”
“I’m certain we will. Why?”
I shrugged, wondering how long I could keep up with both the bookshop and the investigation.
The duke walked up behind me. “Georgina,” he said softly in my ear, “is Lady Bennett’s sister going to present a problem?”
“I hope not. Is the Viscount Chattelsfield truly on the executive council to the governor? I can’t look it up until tomorrow. And is Mr. Monthalf supposed to have been an important enough personage to know him?”
“Yes, but keep on with whatever story you’ve given so far.”
I swung around, my skirt twirling around my legs, and looked up into his eyes. “I’ll have to. Wish me luck.”
His smile was warm as he said, “Luck.”
After the duke left, I went upstairs to undress for bed. When I reached my room, Emma was waiting.
“Here’s your nightgown. And I saw Sumner.”
I was instantly alert. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing to make you jump like that. Sumner is my gentleman caller, which you allow as long as my work doesn’t slip, and he came by while you were out this afternoon. The bookshop is doing splendidly. Watch is being kept on the Germans so closely that a protest has been lodged at Whitehall. Von Steubfeld was told threats had been made against his life by anarchists and extra security was in place for his protection.”
I was only interested in part of what she said. “How splendidly?”
“We’ll see in the morning when you check the ledgers and the receipts. And you’ll want to know that Sir Broderick was visited by a lady who attended the musical evening at Lord Francis’s last night. She asked him if he’d ever heard of this mysterious Mrs. Monthalf.”
Oh, dear. Was Sir Broderick up to date on the character I was playing?