Mama, that mountain of understatement, allowed that it went “beyond anything. Really, it is nothing less than a betrayal of friendship.’’
“I wish Duke were here,’’
Esther murmured. As though that little badger could have stood up to a monster like Maitland.
When they had finished with the upstairs they returned below, still with Hotchkiss glaring and Ettie glowering, the butcher knife clutched under her apron and a Bible in her other hand to ward off these twin demons. We ladies went upstairs to get as far away from them as we could. We all huddled, scared to death, in the master bedroom. It bore a few traces of their meddling but was not seriously disarranged.
We talked desultorily at first, but as time passed we all fell silent, which allowed me to think. Why had Maitland suddenly changed his tactics? He had already searched this house from rafters to cellar and knew there was no money here. What had happened to change his mind? Did he think I had secreted the money elsewhere and brought it back after his search? If this were so—and I could find no other explanation—then he had thought all along that I was a common thief, and his acting the gallant had been just that—an act. How had he convinced a judge to swear out a warrant?
It was close to an hour later when Ettie came to the door and said Officer Roy would like to speak to Miss Haley in the saloon.
“Oh, dear, do you think you should go?”
Mama asked. Her pale little face was pinched in anguish for me. “Do you want us to go with you, Belle?”
I knew what an ordeal it would be for her, and I wished to spare Esther as well. “Of course I must go, but there’s no need for you to bother. I intend to have an apology from Officer Roy before he leaves. At least Mr. Maitland has left.”
I looked questioningly at Ettie.
“He was just putting on his hat when I came up,”
she assured me.
“Good, then I’ll go. I am curious to learn why this search was made. I’ll find out from Officer Roy.”
The officer was alone in the saloon, but I saw through the curtains that Maitland’s carriage was waiting for him. I strode in with my head high and a martial temper displayed on my face. Roy jumped to his feet when he got a look at me.
“I would like an explanation and an apology for this unforgivable intrusion, sir.”
He pointed to the sofa, but I chose to remain on my feet. I was much too excited to sit.
“It was the money, you see, miss,”
he began, very conciliatory.
“So I gathered. What convinced Mr. Maitland that it was here when he had already searched the house from top to bottom?”
He handed me a crisp, new pound note and said, “This here is what convinced him.”
“Did he find it here?”
I asked.
“Not exactly find it. The story I got is that you gave it to him yourself, Miss Haley. Maitland set up a game of cards and arranged to win so as to see a sample of your blunt, like. This here is the bill you gave him, and it’s part and parcel of the lot that was stolen.”
I remembered discussing the bills with Maitland.
“They were crisp, brand-new ones. Unmarked, too
...
”
“How does he know this is a part of the stolen money? He said the bills weren’t marked.”
“I daresay he said that to fool you. They’re not marked so as you’d notice, but if you look close, there’s a little cut there halfway down the left side. He didn’t even do it on purpose, for the locks don’t care for marked money, but when the bills came from the Mint he happened to notice that bit of an irregularity. You’ll see as well that although this here bill is two years old, it hasn’t been circulated. We figure it was sitting in the case all the while, keeping fresh.”
“That strikes me as very slim evidence on which to have sworn out a warrant to search my house.”
“Well, ‘tis and ‘tisn’t. In his work, Maitland often has to deal with the judges, and they’ve come to see he usually knows what he’s talking about. He generally sniffs the wind from the right direction,”
he added, eying me askance.
“He erred this time.”
“Did he?”
His blue eyes, sharp with suspicion, bore into me.
“Yes, he did.”
He leaned closer and spoke in a low tone. “He’s ready to deal soft with you, miss. My advice is, leap at it. Just tell us where we can pick up the rest of it, and it won’t go no farther. You’ll be saved the shame of arrest and the downright disagreeableness of being locked up. Nasty place, Bridewell.”
In the unlikely event that you have ever swallowed a white-hot coal, you will understand how I felt. My breast burned; my head felt as if it would burst. I pointed my finger at the door and shouted like a fishwife. “Get out! Get out of my house, and don’t you ever dare to darken this door again! I’ll have you reported to the Prime Minister. And you can tell Mr. Maitland he has sniffed the wind from the wrong direction this time. His little comedy failed to work.”
The officer shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Where did you get this note, then, miss?”
He waved the cursed pound note before my eyes.
I had to commit some act of violence, and since I was afraid to strike an officer of the law, I snatched the banknote and ran for the grate. He stopped me before I could chuck it into the flames. “I don’t know where it came from. It’s his word against mine that I gave it to him.”
“That’s your last word, then?”
“Yes.”
Officer Roy stood, feet apart, and nodded his head. “Burning up that bit of evidence wouldn’t have done you no good, miss. Nor will the rest of the money. You can’t spend it, not anywhere on this island.”
“I told you I don’t
have
the damned money! Are you calling me a liar?”
“A liar and a thief, I believe, are the words Mr. Maitland used.”
It was the last straw. I turned and left the room and ran back up to Mama and Esther. A moment later I heard the officer walk out the front door, and from the window I saw him enter Maitland’s carriage. I felt nauseated by the ordeal. I was too upset to talk rationally or even to think. I sunk onto the bed and told them what had happened. It felt as though I were relating a nightmare—that soon I’d wake up and it would be only a bad dream. Mama and Esther drew a coverlet over me, as I was trembling like a leaf, and left. I lay stretched out on the bed to recuperate. I couldn’t have felt more battered if a stagecoach and four horses had run over me.
What evil spirit possessed this house? Since the first moment I had set foot in it there had been nothing but trouble and questions that had no answers. Where was the money? Why had Graham given five hundred pounds to K. Norman, and where was K. Norman? What was my fiancé
doing with a miniature of a ravishingly beautiful young woman under his pillow? Esther had attached a knock-kneed badger who was as close to a moonling as made no difference, and Mama a drunken old reprobate. And compared to myself, they had done well. At least their gentlemen didn’t hide their faults. They didn’t pretend to love them then call in the police.
Coming to London had been a very bad idea. I would turn the sale of the house over to a real estate agent and take the family home before we ended up in prison. Tomorrow Eliot was bringing the carriage. I found I no longer wanted it, nor any other memento of dear, unfaithful Graham. Who
could
she be, that smiling woman? I’d have Eliot take the carriage back to the stable to be sold, and we would bolt back to Bath.
The hard decision had been taken, and what had delayed it for so long? As if I didn’t know! I had countenanced the folly of the family because I was involved in a worse folly myself—the folly of thinking Desmond could possibly love me, when all he was doing was using me. He had arranged the card game "to get a sample of my blunt,”
as the officer so genteelly put it. He had told me the bills were unmarked in hopes that I would feel free to use them. He had baited his trap, and though I was innocent, I was caught in it.
Once the decision to return home was made, I began to settle down to more rational thought. Where had the pound banknote come from, the one with the little cut on the side? I had won it at cards, but was it Yootha or Mr. Stone who had given it to me? Mr. Stone, wasn’t it? Yes, Yootha had lost only a shilling. I sat bolt upright, thinking furiously. Then it was Mr. Stone who had the money, obviously! And this very night we were engaged to go to the theater with a drunken thief with whom Mama was fast falling in love.
I jumped up and ran to the saloon to inform her of my discovery. She was still too infatuated to accept it. “You’re a hard judge, Belle,”
she said mildly. “If the Mint damaged one lot of bills, they probably damaged hundreds—thousands.”
“But these were new old bills,”
I argued, and had to explain my paradoxical statement till she understood it.
“Gracious, that doesn’t mean Mr. Stone stole the money. He might have gotten it anywhere. At the bank, or from a friend. Why, he plays cards with everyone, even the prince himself. My, you don’t think Prinny ...”
Her hand flew to her lips. “No, it must be someone else.”
“I’m going to send a note around to Mr. Duke cancelling the engagement tonight.’’
Esther first howled, then burst into noisy tears, and finally fell at my feet, grabbing my skirts and begging, it would take a heart of steel to deny her, and mine was only stone. She was already crestfallen to be leaving London so soon; missing her one and only chance to see a play—well, it was too much.
There were the beautiful new gowns to be considered as well. We were all vain enough to want to wear them. We finally arranged that I would write to Mr. Duke informing him that we did not wish to be of the same party as Mr. Maitland. I doubted Maitland would have the nerve to keep the engagement, but there must be no possibility of it. If Mr. Duke were agreeable to making other arrangements, we would condescend to accompany him, and even that old thief, Stone.
“But you must not quiz him about the money, Belle,”
Mama bargained. I agreed, but meant to hazard a few questions all the same.
Hotchkiss delivered the note, and we all sat on tenterhooks awaiting his return. Would Mr. Duke be at home? Would he find a replacement for Mr. Maitland, or at least agree to remove him, who was an older friend than we, after all, from the party? Esther was nearly climbing the walls by the time Hotchkiss got back. Mr. Duke was with him, full of apologies and jumbled explanations. In his shock, he forgot to be quite as terrified of me as formerly and was only ludicrously polite instead.
“A million apologies, Miss Haley! I cannot think what possessed Des, for in the usual way he is the best of good fellows, I promise you. Something must have gotten his dander up, and he never saying a word to me!”
“For that, at least, I am grateful,”
I assured him. “It would be the outside of enough if he announced his unfounded suspicions to the world!”
“By Jove, he never would. Close as an oyster, and an excellent fine chap. Only, of course, he always was a bit of a hothead. I don’t know how I shall tell him he cannot come with us tonight, when he was looking forward to it so.”
“He cannot be thinking of coming!”
Esther gasped, afraid that she would lose her treat yet.
“No, no, of course not,”
Duke said swiftly, then went on to reveal the reverse. “I shall talk him out of it somehow, never fear. I’ll tell him—why, I shall tell him Miss Haley don’t care for his company. That ought to do it,”
he said, looking timidly at me.
“That is exactly what I would like you to tell him, Duke,”
I said approvingly.
Still, there was much talk and much wine taken before the slow creature finally got pen to paper and wrote the note, for he hesitated to inform his friend in person. He sent his groom off with the message and stayed with us till an answer was received. Actually, two letters were delivered, one to me, and it was thick enough to rouse my curiosity. With a great show of anger I ripped the thing in many pieces and threw it on the fire without opening it while Duke read his letter.
“He might have had some explanation, Belle,”
Mama mentioned.
“I am not interested in Mr. Maitland’s explanations, Mama,”
I said firmly, counting on Duke to tell him so.
“By Jove,”
Duke said, staring at my behavior.
“Will you find me another escort, Duke, or am I to ride bobbin with all you loving couples?”
I inquired.
“I don’t think I know anyone who would dare .... That is to say, at the last minute, you know ... Perhaps Uncle Charles could find someone.”
“Try Two Legs Thomson,”
I suggested airily and in jest.
**
Later that evening, when we had made our toilettes and admired one another’s gowns and finally greeted the gentlemen in our saloon, it was indeed Two Legs Thomson who held his arm out to me, and it was to Two Legs Thomson’s heavy-handed gallantry that I had to listen all evening.
“It was kind of you to invite me, ma’am,”
he began. “You quite turned my head with the honor. ‘Get me Two Legs Thomson,’
you said, quick as blinking, when young Duke asked who you would have.”
I glared at Duke. He jiggled in behind Esther and smiled—or I think that frightened look was supposed to have been a smile, at any rate. Already Two Legs had my hands in his. Before he took the notion that I had fallen in love with him, I had to quench his ardor. “The thing is, I don’t know any gentlemen in London. None at all, other than you,”
I explained.
He winked his eyes, ducked his head, and whispered, “You won’t need to know any others. I can handle you all by myself, miss.”
I wrenched my hands free and whisked away to the sofa, which had room only for one. Another mistake. It gave him an excuse to squeeze in uncomfortably close to me. I could smell the spirits on his breath, feel the heat from his bulky body, and I felt imprisoned. All my time was occupied restraining Thomson, which prevented my learning a thing from Stone about where he had gotten that banknote. It was going to be a fitting night to cap a disastrous day.
To escape the sofa and Two Legs, I suggested we depart for the theater a good half hour earlier than necessary, which left us sitting in a nearly empty building, waiting for the audience to join us. My little consolation was that Esther enjoyed it. She made a shameless exhibition of herself, using her fan like an accomplished flirt and using Duke’s opera glasses to spy out handsome gentlemen and well-gowned ladies, every one of whom was brought first to Mama’s attention, then to mine. More than one hedgebird whose only claim to gentility was the jacket on his back undertook to set up a flirtation with Esther, and she managed to indulge them all. She was smiling and nodding around the hall like a regular coquette.