* * *
I FOUND EMMA in Phyllida’s room. “I need your help.”
She scowled and hurried over to me. “What’s happened?”
I gave her a brief explanation and then asked, “Do you know Lady Peters’s maid?”
“Minette? Yes.”
“Could you find her and keep her out of Lady Peters’s room for a little while?”
“Yes. Wait here while I check Lady Peters’s room. If she’s there, I’ll get her out and then you can go in.”
Emma left and a minute or two later, I heard her voice through the crack in the door. A woman’s voice with a French accent answered. I listened until their footsteps faded away, and then I slipped down the hall. No one was around, but I knocked on the door once before I entered the room.
Rosamond Peters’s room was a model of tidiness. I quickly glanced in the drawers and wardrobe. Everything was so neat I could search her things in an instant and not ruffle anything. My search of the bed was equally unsuccessful. Nothing was tucked into the few books she’d brought with her. I pulled up the corners of the rug. Nothing.
The only place left was the lady’s desk. There was a small stack of good notepaper, a pot of ink, and a couple of pens. The drawer was empty. Lacking any other spot, I looked in the notepaper. A few sheets down I found Sir Henry’s letter.
I skimmed the contents. Sir Henry was a fool to commit both subjects to writing in a single document. I folded the letter and slipped from the room into the empty hall.
I’d barely shut the door behind me when I heard Emma’s voice coming from somewhere nearby. Hearing the chatter she was infecting the air with, I was certain she was trying to warn me to get out. I crushed the letter into my palm and stopped to look around.
Emma and a dark-haired girl in a black dress came out from the servants’ stairs.
“Ah, there you are,” I said as if Emma had been playing truant. “Would you please tell the Duke of Blackford I’d like to see him right away? I’ll be in my room.”
“Yes, milady.” Emma glanced at Lady Peters’s maid and rolled her eyes. Then she headed downstairs and I went to my room, leaving Minette in the hall looking confused.
A few minutes later there was a tap on my door. Thinking it was Blackford or Emma, I stood by the window, soaking in the cool breeze, and said, “Come.”
Sir Henry strode in. “Where is it?”
I stared straight at him, trying not to give away by a glance that I’d hidden the letter in my pillowcase. “I couldn’t find it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true. It’s not in her room. Do you have any other ideas where she could have hidden it?”
He grabbed my wrist. “No, but you’d better. I can’t get my hands on the blueprints, and if she ruins me, I won’t hesitate to let everyone in on your attempted thievery, your husband’s dishonesty, and your lack of funds.”
I tried to wiggle away but failed. His grip would leave a bruise as bad as the one he’d left on my shoulder. “Let go of me.”
“Not until you agree to do as I say.”
I struggled, not wanting to scream and have Sir Henry ruin my false identity before we recovered the blueprints. “I’m trying to.”
“Trying isn’t good enough. Get me that letter, or I swear I’ll destroy you.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"YOU need to consider your words before you threaten this lady again,” came from behind Sir Henry as Blackford strode into the room.
Sir Henry dropped my arm.
“Your Grace,” I said, curtsying with relief that I was no longer alone with my blackmailer. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough to know this scoundrel needs to leave immediately if he values his life.”
“Stay out of this, Blackford. She’s not your sister,” Sir Henry said.
“She’s a woman I care about. Leave her alone.”
“Mrs. Monthalf isn’t under your protection or control. You don’t get to order her around like you did Lady Margaret.”
Blackford’s expression grew steely.
“He blocked practically all of Lady Margaret’s suitors as not being worthy of a duke’s sister. Now he’s trying to have the same control over your life. Beware, Mrs. Monthalf,” Sir Henry said, turning his back on Blackford.
“You’d better leave, Sir Henry.” I tried to put a note of regret in my voice, but I really couldn’t wait for him to go.
He gave me the stiffest of bows and stormed out of the room, shutting the door with more force than necessary.
“I have something for you.” I took the letter out of my pillowcase and handed it to Blackford.
He read it quickly, then looked it over again more slowly. “How did you get this?”
“Sir Henry wanted the letter back from Lady Peters, who obtained it from Lord Hastings. He says her price to return it is the stolen ship blueprints.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“Neither do I. Why would she want ship blueprints?”
The duke gave me a thunderous look. “Why were you searching her room for him?”
I gave him a smile, but his expression made the corners of my mouth droop. “You know why. Sir Henry has me doing his dirty work because he learned Georgina Monthalf is broke and he can ruin her.”
“I’ll take control of this,” he said, putting the letter in the pocket of his dark brown vest. “Play him along, but don’t get caught alone with him.”
“Gladly.”
“Now, Georgina, would you like to sit in the garden with me?”
I put on my straw boater before I gave him my arm. As we walked slowly downstairs, I couldn’t get over the change in his dress. He looked relaxed in his beige lounge suit, even though his collar was still stiff and of course he wore a necktie, which matched his vest. Perhaps it was like me being relaxed in my work clothes, although I still wore a corset.
I was beaming at our spending time together without searching anything or questioning anyone. I gave his arm a squeeze. He gave me a contented smile.
He put on a brimmed hat of soft felt as we stepped outside and then angled the hat to give him a rakish air.
I blinked at this change in the duke. “You look so different.”
“We’re in the country,” was his explanation. “There’s a bench over there in the shade. Can you walk that far on your ankle?”
“If I can’t, you can carry me.” I gave him a grin.
Wonder of wonders, he laughed. A deep, booming laugh.
We sat down on the dust-free bench. Apparently the staff cleaned the outdoor furniture daily. “We need to hold hands to keep up appearances,” Blackford said.
I gave him my hand. “Gladly.”
“You should wear that color more often. It makes your eyes a brilliant violet.” Reddening, he turned to face the immaculately trimmed garden. “It would be nice if all of life were like this, but then I guess we wouldn’t appreciate it.”
“Thank you for arranging this trip.”
“Finally forgiven me for taking you away from—” He stopped as we heard footsteps coming toward us.
Looking over our shoulders, we saw one of the footmen approaching. “Your Grace,” he said with a bow, “Lord Harwin would like a word with you.”
“Of course. If you’ll excuse me, Mrs. Monthalf?”
I nodded to him, and he was off. The sun went behind a cloud as he left.
The garden was lovely, but I didn’t see it as I sat enjoying the shade and wondering why Lady Peters wanted ship plans and why Lady Bennett took Clara to see her shortly before Clara’s death.