Was Wilhelmina’s situation much different? The only difference Marianne could think of was that Wilhelmina’s mother would ensure she received an actual offer, and that a wedding took place. In that way, perhaps the ladies of thetonwere wiser than she had been. Marianne, of course, had made the ultimate mistake.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Later that afternoon, Beau stood with his ear to the door of Clayton’s study. Copperpot, Hightower, and Cunningham had convened in the room not ten minutes earlier, and those three having a conversation was something Beau needed to hear.
That the three noblemen were having any type of meeting was interesting. They were all on the special council, but they weren’t particularly close outside of Parliament. Beau had done months’ worth of research on each of them and knew such things. What could they possibly have to say to one another?
Clayton, thrilled with the prospect of being an unofficial spy, had tipped him off to this particular conference. Beau had been down in the servants’ hall in the basement, where he spent most of his time when he wasn’t attending to Lord Copperpot’s needs. Clayton himself had come looking for him to tell him he was needed in the corridor outside of the study, posthaste.
But Beau’s time in the servants’ hall hadn’t been wasted. The servants, he had found, were a treasure trove of information, just as he’d hoped. In addition to Harry and Charles, the Copperpots’ footmen, Beau had also learned a bit about Lord Copperpot’s comings and goings from the coachman, who often visited the servants’ hall from the stables in order to procure a snack or two. Beau had taken to sitting next to the coachman and offering him betel nuts in order to probe him for information. Of course, just as he had with the footmen, Beau began with seemingly innocuous questions. Establishing trust was the most important element in his work.
Trust. That was the problem with Miss Notley. The woman had started off not trusting him and it was damned difficult to earn trust after it had been lost. She was pretending to accept their truce. He could tell. But why was she so suspicious in the first place? She must have seen her fair share of questionable activities below stairs. Perhaps she’d been too trusting a time or two.
It always helped to know more about a person if one wanted to understand why they behaved the way they did. Beau had seen enough of human behavior—studied it—to realize that. Being a spy was nothing if not a trade that involved people. Convincing people of the things you wanted them to believe, and learning to trust—and not trust—the right people.
In Beau’s profession, one’s life wasn’t worth much if one didn’t learn to read people quickly and effectively. Miss Notley had a past, perhaps even secrets, and if he wanted to truly earn her trust, he needed to learn her secrets.
He’d written a letter to his cohorts at the Home Office yesterday asking for every bit of information they could find on one Miss Marianne Notley, lady’s maid to Lady Wilhelmina Copperpot. He hoped to receive a reply soon. In the meantime, he had a conversation upon which to eavesdrop.
Beau stuck his ear to the study door, while carefully listening with his other ear to any noise in the hallway that might alert him to someone coming down the corridor. It wouldn’t do to be found eavesdropping, no matter who walked past.
It took a moment for Beau to orient himself to what he was hearing on the other side of the door. The first words were definitely those of Copperpot. “Is it all set then?”
“Yes,” replied Hightower. “Confirmed.”
“What is the date again?” Cunningham asked.
“The fourteenth of October,” Hightower replied.
“Ah, perfect, we’ll all have time to get home from this party and settle into the new session of Parliament,” Copperpot replied.
“Yes, I thought we could use the rest.” Hightower said.
“Do you have the money?” Copperpot asked next.
“Yes, here,” Cunningham replied.
“Here’s mine,” Hightower said.
There was silence and some shuffling as two of the men clearly gave Copperpot some sort of payment. What was that about? Were all three of them up to something together? It seemed unlikely, but he couldn’t discount what he was hearing. They had something planned for the fourteenth of October, and whatever it was involved the exchange of funds.
“I can only hope we’re not discovered,” Copperpot replied.
Hightower laughed nervously. “Our lives won’t be worth a farthing if that happens.”
“Agreed, gentlemen,” Cunningham added with a slight laugh. “Here’s to success. For all three of us!”
A volley of hear-hears ensued. Beau steeled his jaw. Damn it. He had he missed the first part of this conversation in which they had most likely spoken more specifically about whatever they were planning. It may have been his only chance to discover what they were up to. The fourteenth of October was more than a month away. He would have time to question the servants more closely.
Beau kept his ear pressed tightly to the door, hoping one of them might say a bit more before they emerged from the study.
“Well, gentlemen, good luck to all of us, I suppose,” Copperpot said.
“We’re going to need it,” Cunningham replied.
The sound of someone padding down the corridor caused Beau to move away from the door and straighten up. He pressed his back to the wall and crossed his arms over his chest, fully intending to act as if he just happened to be taking a small respite in the hallway.
The interrupter soon came into view, a flurry of bright blue skirts and a perfectly starched white apron. Beau expelled his breath and hung his head.Of courseit was Miss Notley. He wasn’t lucky enough for it to be someone else.
