Bath Belles (7 page)

“There were none here that night,”
Yootha said. “Meadows, his man of all work, had gone home, and his female servant didn’t sleep in. Graham was alone. The police looked into all that.”

“It seems odd that Graham would let anyone in, when he must have suspected he might be followed. But then I daresay the fellow broke in,”
Mama said, and shook her head sadly.

“There was no sign of forced entry, nor any windows broken. Nothing like that,”
Yootha said.

“It could have been someone Graham knew, for that matter. Someone he had no reason to suspect,”
Mr. Thomson mentioned.

“Good gracious, Two Legs,”
Yootha interjected, “Graham hadn’t told anyone. Pelty enjoined us to be very quiet about the whole matter. I told no one but you. And you were with me at a rout that night, so I know
you
had nothing to do with it,”she added, with a sharp look that petered out to a laugh.

“Mr. Pelty?”
I asked.

“The other fellow from Lloyd’s who was Maitland’s partner,”
Mrs. Mailer explained. “It seems that when the value of an insured object is high, the agents will sometimes go snacks, and it was a Mr. Pelty who shared the risk on my necklace with Maitland. Mr. Pelty was quite agreeable to paying me the money; it was Maitland who arranged with some of his unsavory criminal friends to exchange part of the money for the jewel. Mr. Maitland was called home suddenly to Devon that day, and so Pelty was left alone to arrange the matter. If it hadn’t been for Pelty, we would never have known the details. Maitland was a regular oyster, and no polite one, either.”

Without thinking what I was saying, I heard myself reply, “That’s too bad.”
Yootha gave me a quick frown, and I changed the subject. But what flitted through my mind was that if Mr. Maitland had been in charge, perhaps Graham would still be alive. There was an alert intelligence about Maitland and a ruthless thoroughness that gave me respect for his competence. But then, his concern would not have been for Graham—just for the necklace.

Eventually our guests rose to leave. “Come to dinner tonight,”
Mrs. Mailer offered. “Your servants aren’t here, and it will save you some bother. I’ll send my carriage for you, and I’ll invite a couple of gentlemen, too. That will please you, eh, ladies?”
She smiled.

“You need look no further for one volunteer,”
Two Legs announced, with a long scrutiny of me. Was it possible the old fool had me in his eye? I didn’t know whether to laugh or turn him out the door.

Esther looked ready to burst into tears. “We don’t have any gowns!”
she protested.

“Come as you are; we’ll make it very informal,”
Mrs. Mailer insisted.

Mama clucked, but in the end she wasn’t proof against Esther’s enthusiasm and her own desire for a good home-cooked meal.

On the way out Mr. Thomson remembered his alleged reason for having come on the call and said, “I’ll think about the house, Miss Haley, and let you know. I look forward to seeing you again.”

I nodded very coolly, to discourage him. I would have to be in touch with the newspapers about extending my advertisement. I hadn’t had a bona fide client yet. Only nosy neighbors and self-serving insurance agents and Two Legs Thomson. But first I really had to do something about that parcel awaiting me on Graham’s bed.

I went upstairs and cut the string. On top of his jacket there was a little packet containing his diamond stud, his watch, and his keys. I took up the packet and looked at his black jacket. The sight of it proved too much for me. Not yet—I couldn’t face it yet. I took the packet to my room and left the bundle on the bed. Perhaps I’d have Hotchkiss take care of it for me.

I put the diamond stud and the watch on my dresser and took the keys downstairs. It would be handy to have a spare key for the house. There seemed more keys than were necessary. Did the back door have a separate key? No, the brass key opened both the front and back doors, but there were two other keys. One for his office, likely, but what was the third? I’d take it to Yootha and see if Graham had had a key to her house. That was probably it.

After another picnic lunch, Esther cajoled Mama and me out for a walk. There was a raw, nasty wind in the air, nipping our noses and dashing us all to pieces. Mama was regretting that I had told Hotchkiss and Ettie to come on the coach, as it would have been convenient to have our carriage in the city. “But then I daresay Hotchkiss couldn’t handle so much traffic in any case. I never saw so much of it. Where are they all going, do you think?”

“To plays and parties and balls,”
Esther sighed.

“Not in the afternoon, goose!”
I teased.

“Perhaps one of Aunt Yootha’s friends will ask you out,”
Mama said, to cheer her.

I didn’t like that sort of cheering. Any friend of Yootha Mailer’s would be a poor escort for innocent Esther. “Graham left me his carriage. I’ll look into hiring job horses for the short time we’re in the city,”
I announced.

“You’d have to hire a groom, too,”
Mama pointed out, but in a perfectly hopeful manner.

“I suppose I can afford it now.”
How odd to be suddenly on the verge of being—well, not rich, precisely, but rich enough to hire a team and a groom, at least.

The wind caught my bonnet and pulled it right off my head. Esther and I went tearing down the street after it, skirts flapping, and had the pleasure of no fewer than three gentlemen of the first stare coming to our assistance.

“Wasn’t that nice of them?”
Esther said as they walked away, looking back at the pretty child. And she, artful girl, had pitched her voice loud enough for them to hear.

I didn’t chide her but only gave her a knowing look. “You’re setting up to be a fine flirt, Esther!”

“It’s only in fun,”
she said. “We’ll never see them again, so there’s no harm in it, and it was nice of them to help. Imagine, Belle, there must be hundreds of fine gentlemen like that in London, and you and I don’t even have proper gowns.”

“Hotchkiss will soon be here.”

“Yes, but we still won’t have the sort of gowns ladies in London wear.”

“Oh, yes, we shall!”
I said forcefully. The decision came from nowhere. From the wind, perhaps, that had taken my bonnet and blown in three helpful gentlemen. If the wind was to be that generous, the least I could do was to provide us with suitable gowns. Even if we did not stay on, our London style would cause a great stir back home.

I was assailed by the memory of Mr. Maitland and his bold, laughing black eyes. Could I handle such a gentleman? London fauna were more dangerous than the tame fellows at Bath. But I was now able to take Bow Street Runners and Yootha’s crew in my stride, and if Esther, at seventeen, was eager to tackle a beau, why shouldn’t I? After all, Graham had loved me, so I couldn’t be a total antidote.

“I don’t suppose Mr. Maitland will be there tonight,”
Esther said suddenly.

“Mr. Maitland! No, I should think not. Aunt Yootha has no opinion of him.”

“The one who gave you back your hat reminded me of him. Did you notice what a handsome smile he had? He winked at me, Belle. What should I do when a gentleman winks at me?”

“A lady is oblivious to uncivil behavior, Esther. And she does not encourage a flirt—at least not till she’s been formally introduced,”
I added more leniently.

We burst into laughter at the same moment. Mama was invaded by the same silly spirit and laughed along with us. “Oh, my, speak of the blind leading the blind. You giving Esther lessons in how to manage a gentleman, Belle. It is hard to know which of the pair of you is the greater green-head! And I no better myself,”
she added truthfully. “What is to become of us here in London alone?”

She meant without Papa, and though she tried to feign desperation, I suspected there was a bit of pleasurable excitement mingled with it. Mama was not much over forty.

And for more than half of her life she’d been a clergyman’s wife in dull, provincial Bath. I think she was enjoying this little trip as much as Esther. Maybe even as much as I was.

We did the best we could with our appearances, but going to dine in an afternoon gown took the edge off the visit for me. Esther supplied all the enthusiasm Mama and I lacked. She chattered like a magpie as she darted from room to room, borrowing blue ribbons from me, a small pearl necklace from Mama, and by the time Yootha’s carriage arrived we were as nervous as a coop of setting hens.

Good as her word, Mrs. Mailer supplied us all with escorts, even Mama. The Mr. Stone in question was a friend and coeval of Two Legs Thomson. Like Thomson, he was red of nose and stout of stomach. Unlike him, he had no white hair, nor any other color either, except for a bit of soft gray fringe around the edge of his skull that gave his head the look of a billiard ball sitting in a roll of dust.

Her introductions led me to fear that the unfortunate-looking stump of a man named Duke was destined for me. He was Ralph Duke, not the Duke of anything. His height was even less than my own, and I am not overly tall for a lady. After he had sized me up, his face took on the expression of a peevish mullet. What he lacked in height he made up in weight. It was really astonishing that a man of twenty-five or so years should have acquired such an unsightly bulk around his middle section. His face, other than the expression, was not bad, though more childish than I like: blue eyes, a turned-up nose, cheeks suspiciously smooth.

He opened his lips to speak, but no words came out. His eyes had discovered Esther. There was a churning sound in his throat, as if a pepper mill had been put into action, and finally he found his voice. “Good evening. Er, good day—er, good evening, Miss Haley,”
he said, switching the time of day as he considered the hour and my toilette.

I curtsied and said, “Good evening, Mr. Duke.”

“Too bad about your house. Being ransacked and all, I mean to say.”
His eyes wavered away to Esther.

“Yes, a pity.”

“Sorry about Graham, too, while I am about it. I knew him.”

This was his first interesting utterance. I attempted to follow it up, but the acquaintance appeared to be slight, and through Yootha’s friend Mr. Stone, who was Duke’s uncle. “We said good day a few times,”
he informed me. “Once on Bond Street, and once somewhere else. Here, I think it was.”

I concluded Yootha had scraped the barrel to find two young gentlemen for Esther and me. But all this was really at the back of my mind. Through an archway I had spotted a more interesting gentleman altogether, and I was waiting for him to join us. I could see by his profile he was too suave and too mature for one of Esther’s tender years, which was bound to have her flirting her head off.

Then he turned toward us, and my heart nearly stopped beating. For a moment I had the mind-boggling idea I was looking at Graham, suddenly returned to earth. He stood at some distance from me, framed in a doorway, like a painting. Light shone all around him, from the chandeliers overhead and from side lamps. The man was the general size and shape of Graham, but it was at his head that I stared. He had the same high, noble brow as my fiancé, with the hair growing in a pronounced peak in front. Our eyes met, and we stood gazing mutely at each other, not smiling, not even moving. Around me the slightly nervous talk of introductions whirled, but I was lifted above it all. My feet took command of the situation and wafted me toward the apparition in the next room.

I was aware of a bobbing motion at my shoulder and heard Mr. Duke say, “Eliot’s the one who can tell you all about Graham. Daresay that’s what you would like.”

Of course the man was Graham’s cousin, Eliot Sutton, but the resemblance was uncanny enough to have startled me. As I drew closer to him I could see the differences clearly. I had to admit Eliot was more handsome. His features were more clearly defined, his nose stronger, his jaw more square; the hair on his head grew even more beautifully, but it was the same rich chestnut color. Mr. Sutton didn’t smile; he wore the solemn expression the occasion called for.

Mr. Duke attempted to perform the introduction. “Eliot, this is Miss Haley—Graham’s ... the lady who was engaged ... that is to say ... Miss Haley, this is Eliot Sutton.”

“How do you do,”
I said, and offered him my hand while my eyes continued to drink in this reincarnation of Graham. He held my fingers tightly in a warm grasp for a little longer than the normal handshake.

“Miss Haley, I’m delighted to make your acquaintance. I meant to call on you as soon as you were settled in. I feel I know you already, as I heard my cousin speak of you so many times. I hope we shall be very good friends.”
Even his voice had the rich, sincere timbre of Graham’s. Then he noticed that he was still holding my hand, and he released it hastily.

“I hope so indeed.”

Mr. Sutton led me to a sofa, and we sat a little apart from the others, with Duke crouched beside us, listening. To prevent Mr. Sutton from taking the idea I was a moonling, I tried to explain myself. “I’m sorry if I stared at you. It’s just that there is such an astonishing resemblance between you and Graham. It startled me.”

“Dead ringers!”
Duke muttered.

“We were often mistaken one for the other by slight acquaintances,”
Mr. Sutton agreed, “but as we become better friends, you will learn I can’t half live up to my cousin’s virtue.”

He said all the proper and thoughtful things about Graham, expressed his condolences on my loss, and then wrapped that sad topic up in polite ribbons. “But life goes on, Miss Haley.”

“It does, you know,”
Duke confirmed.

“Now it is time for you to think of the future,”
Sutton continued. “I insist you treat this visit to London as the holiday it ought to be and enjoy yourself, as Graham would want you to. I intend to see you follow my orders. That I share with Graham—a dictator!”
He smiled. No dictator had such an enchanting smile.

“Oh, I am enjoying it, except for certain minor irritations,”
I assured him.

“Aunt Yootha told me about your difficulties. Please feel free to call on me if there is any problem that requires a man’s intervention. I am unhappy you ladies have no man about the place. If Maitland returns to pester you, let me know and I’ll speak to him.”