“Oh, my.” Vella paused a moment. “Supposing, I wait in the carriage for Thomas? When he returns, we can somehow get the message to you whether he’s paid.”
“Yes, but how? I’ve given the baron until nine to place the funds in the garden.” Now that Gabby had learned Huntley was watching her, things had become more complicated.
“You mentioned something regarding the Duchess of Ryleigh?” Vella suggested.
Gabby nodded slowly, sounding out her reasoning vocally. “Of course! That is the perfect solution. You can have a note delivered to Rebecca, er, the duchess. I’ll tell her I’m expecting it. She’ll understand at once it has something to do with our sheltering home. Yes. We should have no names within the note. Perhaps an ‘N’ or a ‘Y’.”
“Begging, your pardon, ma’am, might I suggest something more meaningful should your missive somehow be intercepted?”
Gabby frowned. “Like what?”
“Everyone knows the duchess saved those two children a few months back. Perhaps a referral regarding a visit from their father, or…” She shrugged. “Anything, that would make the note necessary for her to receive it at the Faulks. If the duchess is in on this scheme, she will know at once what to tell you.”
“Oh, yes. I see what you mean. It will be tricky in the event her husband is present at that moment. Sebastian can be rather stiff,” she said absently. Gabby paced the chamber, almost tripping over Lady Macbeth following her about. She scooped up the tiny dog and looked into her warm brown eyes. “Lady Macbeth! You are much too small for such an adventure—Lady Macbeth… has… recovered.”
“Ma’am?”
“The note. You shall send a note to Rebecca that reads ‘Lady Macbeth has recovered’ if the funds are there, and ‘Lady Macbeth is not well’ if the funds are not. I suspect the duchess will be most anxious to learn how Lady Macbeth is faring.”
Vella nodded, grinning. “Very clever, milady.”
Gabby hugged Lady Macbeth to her chest and smiled. “It occurs to me, Vella, you are in an interesting and unique position. I take it you know Lady Bentick.”
“Quite so,” Vella said. The neutrality of her tone spoke volumes.
Gabby grinned. “Yes. Of course, you do.” she said softly. “You know all the highbrows of Mayfair.”
She nodded. “I’m miles below her notice, milady.”
Gabby set Lady Macbeth on the bed. She went to her escritoire and pulled out a sheet of foolscap. She dipped her quill in the inkpot and scratched out the address to Hope House. “I shall make a stop at the modiste’s shop tomorrow. You can let me know then if Thomas is uncomfortable with this task we are assigning him in his absence. In the meantime, if there is an urgent message, direct it to this address,” she said, handing over the slip to her.
“Yes, milady.”
“Now, how are we to get you home? You cannot possibly walk alone at this hour. Also, we shall have to do something about your situation with Thomas.”
Twenty-Two
How long does it take to try on a dress? James asked himself for the hundredth time. He’d looked forward to a nice dinner with his wife. Diggs appeared in the door, holding the silver salver which did not bode well. Only one person would be delivering a message at this time of night. Liverpool was becoming a massive pain in his arse.
Irritation pelted him. “Bring it over, Diggs.” James snatched it off the tray and stopped. There was no seal. It was folded over where anyone could read it. Well, hell. His lips pressed in a tight line as he opened and read. My Lord, I sent for a tray. I shall be retiring early tonight. Lady H.
James tossed the note down, threw his serviette over his plate, and shoved away from the table. He had half a mind to storm her chamber and show her exactly what he thought of her damned note. But he was not in a gentleman frame of mind. He strode to the foyer. “My hat and coat, Diggs. I find myself in need of male camaraderie. I’ll be at my club.”
Diggs opened the door. “Shall I have your horse brought around, my lord?”
“No. The walk will serve me well.” He stepped outside and was momentarily distracted by an old carriage turning down the street. Watching, he asked, “Who was that?”
“The dressmaker, sir. She left via the servants’ entrance.”
“Ah, of course. Send word immediately if my wife decides to venture out.” Just a precaution.
“Certainly, sir.”
Whites was whirring with activity when James stalked in twenty minutes later. He was in no mood for cards and opted for the less populated area. That’s where he found Ryleigh. Sitting near the fire in the great room. James made his way over and dropped into the empty chair facing him, suddenly burning with questions.
“Huntley.”
“Good evening, Ryleigh. My wife imparted some interesting tidbits of her history the other day,” he said lightly.
