She snatched her watch from the vanity top. Ten minutes had been wasted. She pinned her hair up and donned the black bonnet, sans ostrich plume, and pulled the thick crepe veil over her face. She tiptoed out of the room and down the servants’ stairs. It was dinner time. The staff was in the servants’ hall partaking of their sustenance. No one noticed the silent woman in black walk out the back door to the mews.
Dan, Atwater’s driver, was reading the newspaper. He sat in the landau with one side’s top up shielding him from the meagre sunshine.
Judith hugged the wall of the mews in order not to engage his attention. She slipped around the side of the house two doors down and emerged onto the street. With a sigh of relief, she hailed a hackney. She couldn’t very well ask her own driver to take her to the bank. She was escaping.
As the hackney swayed away from St James, Judith’s mind went over her plan again and again. Where had it gone wrong? It had been nearly foolproof. Even Atwater had believed her. But she knew there was no way Atwater and Lady Phoebe, along with their friends, would have arrived, unannounced ... unless they’d found something out. She only had to make it to the bank. Then she and Jacob would leave London forever. Or at least for a while.
*******
Atwater looked at his watch.
“I daresay it’s been more than an hour, hasn’t it?” Tom looked to his friend.
“Yes. It has. It’s been an hour and a half. But you know, pardon me ladies, you know how long the toilette sometimes takes. If the lady was out late, she doubtless needs more time.”
“But where would she have gone? There were no parties last night. Not to my knowledge.”
“Maybe she has company.”
“Robert,” Tom admonished him.
“My apologies, ladies.
“Let us play some whist. Look, here are cards. We have four people. Why, I wish I’d thought of it sooner.” Phoebe laughed.
The four sat at the card table and began the game. After about another hour, Atwater began to feel something was wrong. The others were involved in the game. But something was not right. He looked up at the ceiling. He’d heard no sound coming from upstairs. No movement. No creaking floorboards. Nothing. It was as if no one was in the house. He excused himself from the game. “Mary, you as my partner, take my next few turns.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Tom looked at him with raised eyebrows. Atwater pointed to the ceiling and left the room. Tom went back to the game. The ladies, being very involved in it, had lost track of the time.
Atwater walked down the hall. He heard the hall door open and went down to see who it was.
The maid was entering, and startled, she gasped when she saw Atwater. “Yes, Your Grace? Are you in need of anything?”
“Where have you been, girl?”
“I … I had to run an errand for my lady, Your Grace.”
“And where is your lady? We’ve been waiting some two hours for her to finish with her toilette.”
“She’s not down yet, Your Grace?”
“She is not. We are all aware of that.”
“Yes, Your Grace. I’ll go up, Your Grace. She sometimes falls back to sleep.”
“Thank you.” Atwater smiled at the girl. He wondered if Judith’s tendency to fall back to sleep had anything to do with the laudanum she took with frequency. For her nerves, she’d told him. If the story Olivia had given them was true, Judith’s nerves must truly need it.
Atwater headed back up to the drawing room. “The maid is alerting Lady Judith that it’s been over two hours we’ve been waiting.”
“It’s been that long? When there are cards, I lose track of time. I love them so,” Phoebe said with glee.
Just then, the drawing room flew open. The maid stood there, looking as if she’d seen a ghost. She curtsied, and then blurted out, “She’s gone. Your Grace. My lady is gone.”
Tom piped up. “That should confirm Olivia’s story.”
“Olivia? Beg pardon, My Lord. What has this to do with Olivia, My Lord?” The maid, not knowing what else to do, curtsied again.
“Never you mind. We’re going to find Lady Judith. Please wait here, in the servants’ hall,” Tom said.
“Yes, My Lord.” The girl curtsied and nodded to Phoebe and Mary. She sank lower when her eyes landed on Atwater. “Your Grace.” Then she left the room.
The four remaining came together in the centre of the room. Keeping their voices low, they discussed the next step to take.
“It certainly looks as if Judith is not who she says she is. But being Lord Thomas and I are both lawyers, it cannot be proven. Unless she confesses. Which I don’t believe will happen. But it’s clear that she’s made a hasty departure from the city.” Atwater kept his eyes on Phoebe as he spoke.
“Your Grace, I’d like to ask Mary to take a turn in the garden. Are you amenable? Lady Who-ever-she-is has run away. While you and Lady Phoebe discuss our next move, I’d just as soon enjoy a walk. And,” he looked at Mary, “some stimulating conversation.”
Mary looked up quickly. Phoebe winked at her. Atwater nodded, and Tom turned to the maid hooking his arm for her to put her hand through.
“Miss Mary? Shall we?” Tom smiled at the young woman.
She took Tom’s proffered arm, and the couple walked downstairs to the door that led to the garden.
Atwater watched them leave the room. Then he immediately went to Phoebe. “Do you believe me now? Do you believe Lady Judith is Charlotte Evans?”
“It certainly looks that way, Your Grace.”
Atwater took Phoebe’s hand and brought it to his lips. “And have you come to an answer to my question?”
Phoebe smiled. Her bright blue eyes sparkled. “I believe I have, Your Grace.”
*******
Tom and Mary walked a bit, and then found a little bench near the rose bushes. They sat, Mary with her eyes down until Thomas broke the silence.
“Mary, there is something I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“I don’t know if you’re aware that my father, the Earl of Somerset, was not always in line for the title. He is a second son, as am I, and as Duke Atwater is. Like His Grace, my father’s older brother, the first Earl died young. He was killed in an untimely riding accident.”
“Oh, My Lord. Please accept my most sincere condolences.”
“Thank you, Mary, but as with many men in the position of second son, my father experienced no love lost between his brother and himself.”
Mary was quiet.
“What I’m getting at, I suppose, is the fact that anything can change in a moment. Any situation, even one within the peerage, is subject to the same changes as any other. Maybe more so. An average man can become a Duke as easily as a Marquess can if the fates so choose! I refer, of course to, our dear Duke Carlisle, the former Earl of Portree.”
Mary couldn’t help giggling. Still, she wondered what Lord Thomas had on his mind.
Lord Thomas continued, “You realize that due to the fact that I’m a second son, I’m technically not part of the peerage.”
“No, My Lord. I’ve never heard that.”
“Never mind. Because it matters not.”
Mary nodded. “As you say, My Lord.”
“What I’m trying to say, Mary, is I’m a commoner. I’m a lawyer. They call me Mr Radcliffe at my office. They don’t call me my lord.”
“I see. Mr Radcliffe? Is that what you wish me to call you, My Lord?”
Tom chuckled. “No, I would rather you call me Tom. At least in private. Even after you, well if you assent to, become Mrs Radcliffe.” He grinned at the widening of Mary’s eyes.
“Pardon me, My Lord. What have you said?”
“I would like to,” Tom took one of Mary’s little hands in his two. “‘I’d like to change your life in a moment, Mary. I’d like to take you out of domestic service. I’d like to make you my wife.”
Mary’s eyes filled with tears. She droppe
d her head in an attempt to gain control of her emotions.
“Mary? Are you well? I didn’t mean to make you cry. Please tell me what’s wrong.”
“I … I am very well, My Lor, uh, Thomas.” He handed her a handkerchief to wipe her eyes. “But people will talk, My Lord. I’m sorry.” She giggled through her tears.
“I don’t care what people say, Mary. I intend to buy the Wimpole Street House. For you. Even if you refuse my proposal, I wish to take care of you, Mary. I’ve thought long and hard about it. There’s no one else I would rather be with. If you take me, I will live at the townhouse with you. If you decide not to take me, the house will be signed over to you.”
“No, Lord Thomas. That is too generous.”
“Is that your only complaint?”
“Uh, I do have one other, My Lord.”
“What, Mary? Tell me what it is. I’ll take care of it immediately.”
“Well …”
“Yes?”
“I don’t believe I’d want to live at Wimpole Street all by myself. Tom.”
“Are you accepting my offer, or my terms?”
“Your offer, silly man.” And Mary threw her head back laughing.
Tom picked her up in his arms and swung her around in a sweet embrace. Then the two walked back to the house to share their news.
Chapter 10
When news of Tom and Mary’s relationship was shared with Phoebe and Atwater, the two couples decided to celebrate with a lavish dinner. But first, they shared a toast of sherry amid hugs and tears and talk of the future. The house on St James was Atwater’s property now that Lady Judith was not there to occupy it, but Phoebe wished to go back to Wimpole Street.
Once back at the intended destination, Phoebe went to the kitchen to speak with Mrs Crabtree. Phoebe was thrilled for Mary. She was so happy that the housekeeper asked her if she was feeling well.
“Yes, Mrs Crabtree, you dear lady. I don’t know which I’m happier about. There’s my own imminent marriage to His Grace, Duke Atwater. And we also have Lord Thomas and Mary’s upcoming nuptials.”
“Oh, My Lady. How wonderful. I am pleased and happy for all of you. This calls for a fancy dinner, now doesn’t it? A celebratory meal? Oh, I’ve so wanted to plan a party. Don’t you think your news calls for a small party, at least?”
“It does, Mrs Crabtree, which is why I came down to discuss some details with you. It doesn’t have to be too elaborate, but you know I trust you implicitly. I’m leaving it all up to you. As fancy as you can get in three hours.” Phoebe winked.
“Oh, never you fear, My Lady. Young Susan the parlour maid is here as well as Olivia, who you’ve met and spoken with. Cook has plenty of help what with them and me.”
“I’m sorry we’re short-handed, Mrs Crabtree. After my father’s untimely death, some staff wanted to move on to other households. I’m afraid, though, that it’s made extra work for everyone who’s remained.”
“Never you mind that, My Lady. We’ll make do. What a happy occasion to prepare for. Now, out with you, My Lady. Dinner will be at seven o’clock. A little late in the evening, but everything must be perfect. And you know Cook. Perfect it will be.”
Phoebe smiled at the sweet woman. “Thank you very much, Mrs Crabtree.” Then she left the housekeeper’s private sitting room off the servants’ hall and went in search of Mary.
“Mary.” Phoebe was looking everywhere around the house. From her sitting room window, on the second floor, Phoebe saw Mary sitting in the back garden. She went down the way she’d come and out to the garden.
Mary sat on a small bench against the wall. She was almost obscured by a large flowering plant. Her head was down. Her shoulders shook slightly.
Phoebe watched her for a moment then walked forward. “Mary?” She saw the younger woman quickly raise her hand to her face, then wipe the hand on her skirt.
“Yes, My, Lady. Um, I mean Phoebe.” She looked up. It was obvious she’d been crying.
“Mary!” Phoebe ran to her and sat on the bench next to her. “What’s wrong? Do you not feel well?”
Mary sniffled. “No. It’s … it’s not that. I feel fine. I just don’t know if … if Thomas and I have made the right decision. If Thomas has made the right decision.”
“Whatever are you talking about? Tom loves you, Mary. He had a long talk with His Grace about it. Before ever he spoke to you. He was terrified you’d deny him. He’s had feelings for you for a long time.”
Mary’s tears began to flow again.
“Mary, please. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Oh, My Lady. Ah,” she threw the bit of sewing she’d been working on to the ground.
“What is it dear? You can tell me. Please?” Phoebe was sincerely concerned about her friend.
“I … I’m not cut from the same cloth, My Lady, as you, and Lord Thomas and His Grace. I’m a servant. How can I switch roles? I don’t know how to be a lady.”
“I know born ladies who don’t know how to be ladies, Mary. They study their peers and learn. Or they don’t. You’ve been a lady’s maid. You know what it entails to act like a lady. Acting like one and believing you are one, are the only ways to become one. Even if one has a parent or grandparent in the ton. We all must believe in ourselves.”
“No, My Lady. Olivia told me I can act like a lady, but the fact remains, I’m of the serving class. She said my past would follow me everywhere I go in life. Everyone will whisper behind their fans about me. She said the staffs of every house I live in or visit will despise me because I’m trying to be something I’m not. Lord Thomas and me? It’s not possible, My Lady. The talk. The scandal.”
“One of the first lessons in becoming a lady, Mary is the knowledge, and acceptance, that everyone in our circles talk. The ability to rise above pettiness is something all ladies, indeed all people, should strive for. Gossip is the life’s blood of unhappy people. It is mother’s milk to them. And they are going to talk whether you marry Thomas or not.
“Think of it like the servants’ gossip you’ve been privy to. It makes no difference what Olivia says. Not now. She was useful to us. Very useful in assisting us to get to the truth as far as Lady Judith is concerned. And I sincerely liked her. I offered her the position here because I thought she could take your place once you’re married. Now I see that Olivia is as jealous and petty as many of the peerage. I understand that the only reason she helped us was because she was resentful.”
“Resentful? Of Charlotte?”
“Of the fact that Charlotte was successful in impersonating Lady Judith.”
“Oh no, My Lady. Do you really believe that?”
“I’d wondered why she was so willing to help the way she did. I did give her a reward for the information she gave us. It was enough money to start over somewhere else. A completely new life. Now that I’ve seen her true self, I don’t want to employ her. She has no place here.”
“But Olivia is right, My Lady. Who do I think I am that I can go to tea at the homes of born ladies? I’m overstepping my place.”
Love Stories of Enchanting Ladies: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 69
