Bad Miss Bennet (11 page)

‘We have solved the mystery of the cellar,' Selena rushed on. ‘It is droll beyond words. There is a secret passage from the inn to somewhere, I don't know where as yet. During the evening, just as we were having supper, a great noise came from under our feet.'

‘The innkeeper turned the colour of old liver sausage,' Miles contributed. ‘He rushed off to investigate and came back with this queer old party in fancy dress, knee breeches and such, all covered in dust and in a fine temper. The innkeeper sent him off in a carriage and pretended it was nothing out of the ordinary.'

‘I know all about that,' I said, watching their faces fall. ‘Now if you will excuse me I am exhausted and must go to my rest.'

On the following morning we were so preoccupied with moving our belongings into Halfcrown House that I did not have an opportunity to speak to anyone until lunchtime. We assembled in the dining room and ate a picnic lunch obtained from a nearby hostelry and pie shop.

As we ate I told my friends about my evening at the Royal Pavilion. Selena was agog for information about the gowns, the jewellery and the general ambience. Miles wanted to hear about the swells who milled around the Prince Regent. I did my best to entertain them while Adelaide's ears twitched in the background.

When I reached the part about my escapade in the corridors and the secret passageway to the inn, Selena almost fell off her chair with excitement. Of course, I did not mention my meeting with Jerry. I called to Adelaide and asked her if she had heard the name of Von Mecks mentioned anywhere. She shook her head saying that she had been too occupied with her duties concerning the move to go about the town. Selena frowned in an effort to remember something.

‘I caught a glimpse of a strange looking woman at the inn after you left, Lydia.' She turned to her husband. ‘Surely you saw her, Miles? The creature had a hoisted up look about her. Her eyes were bloodshot and her lips parched. She looked as if her shoes were too tight.'

Miles seemed doubtful, saying that the description might have applied to him after a night on the town. Selena turned to me impatiently. ‘Miles can never remember anything. The strange thing is that the woman was at the inn one moment and then she disappeared. I am sure she did not leave by the front entrance. She must have gone into the secret room.'

‘One of the prince's floozies,' Miles added. I agreed that this was intriguing, if not altogether surprising, given the prince's known preferences, but it told us nothing about the murder of Von Mecks and my patron's connection with it.

‘Getheridge is up to something, mark my words.' Miles tried to look solemn for a moment. ‘Up to his ears in it, that fellow … not a gentleman, if you get my meaning.'

‘But he's a banker!' Selena and I chorused. Miles agreed that money counted for a great deal. The prince spent lavishly and his only daughter had just been married with great splendour.

‘They say that Prince Leopold hadn't a penny when he married Princess Charlotte,' Miles added. ‘When the Archbishop came to that bit in the marriage service about “For richer, for poorer”, Charlotte laughed out loud.' Seeing our baffled expressions he added, ‘My point is that money – or the lack of it – is at the root of everything.'

Selena agreed that it certainly was in his case.

Adelaide begged leave to speak at this point saying that she knew someone who might ferret out the truth of this matter, ‘Being a lowlife hiself, in a manner of speaking, and acquainted with others of the same ilk.' She gave me a meaningful look and I blushed furiously. I collected myself sufficiently to mutter an agreement.

Miles conveniently changed the subject remarking that the house across the Steyne from our own belonged to Mrs Fitzherbert, the prince's former mistress, the mother of his children – and his real wife, according to gossip.

‘What has she to do with this?' Selena asked.

‘She receives Getheridge and half the
beau monde
of Brighton. I saw some of them arriving this morning.' It was agreed that we would contrive to visit the lady as soon as possible. Adelaide would talk to the staff at the Royal Pavilion.

At this point Miles, having finished his meat pie, sprang to the window exclaiming that someone should keep watch on the Fitzherbert house.

‘As you are so interested, I can survey the place from here. This window is an excellent vantage point.'

Selena said she hoped that he would not take to loitering in alleyways. Miles looked aggrieved, saying that he was not some Johnny Raw up from the country. ‘Surveillance was part of my role as a military man, you know.'

My friend and I immediately decided to leave a card at Mrs Fitzherbert's home. We put on our bonnets and crossed the Steyne, accompanied by Adelaide. As we mounted the steps to the house I saw Miles watching us from the window and waving encouragement. It occurred to me that my highwayman friend might well decide to keep watch on Halfcrown House itself. The alleyway afforded an excellent view.

As we retraced our steps a carriage rolled up. An unprepossessing woman wearing too many furs and furbelows descended and was admitted to the Fitzherbert residence. Selena clutched my arm excitedly. ‘That's her, the woman from the inn last night. Who is she?'

The inestimable Adelaide was quick with the answer. ‘That is Maria Bertram, ma'am. She's well known in Brighton.' I was horrified. She was none other than Mr Getheridge's long standing mistress – the fearsome woman! It appeared that everyone was invited to the Fitzherbert house. All except Lydia Wickham.

‘We have only just arrived, my dear,' said Selena in answer to my sudden howl of outrage.

We rushed back to the house and Miles confirmed that he had witnessed the arrival of a strange-looking woman. ‘The plot thickens!' he gurgled with predictable relish.

Selena said she had one of her headaches and must lie down at once – always her reaction to a problem. I retired to the window seat in preparation for a long, tiresome afternoon and evening. Mr Getheridge had not called or sent a message. There were no invitations on the mantelpiece. Brighton was not taking us to her bosom.

Adelaide announced that she too needed to retire promptly. The meat pie at lunch had been questionable and she was experiencing an attack of the wherry-go-nimbles. I sighed and picked up a copy of
Pamela: or Virtue Rewarded
.

After two hours of this occupation, varied by staring out of the window, I was startled by a loud knocking at the front door. Several moments passed, followed by renewed knocking. Eventually, Adelaide appeared, looking wan, but collected.

‘There is a messenger here, ma'am, from Mrs Fitzherbert across the way. She urgently requests that you and Mrs Caruthers take tea with her this afternoon.' I sprang from my seat with such alacrity that I almost knocked Adelaide against the wall. She turned green and rushed from the room so that I was obliged to answer the messenger myself, saying that we would be delighted to accept the invitation.

I rushed to rouse Selena from her bed where she was not sleeping at all but reading a story by Mrs Thrale. We hurriedly prepared ourselves and left the house. As my maid was in no condition to accompany us, Miles escorted us to the door of Mrs Fitzherbert's residence.

The house was spacious and well-appointed and the lady herself was most affable in her manner. One or two gentlemen of the highest fashion, a type known as Corinthians, bowed to us as they were leaving. A young woman of my own age, dressed in blue muslin, also left the room quietly. I wondered if she could be Maryanne Smythe, the unacknowledged daughter of Mrs Fitzherbert and the prince.

I had a few moments in which to observe the lady. Although advanced in years, she bore the remains of the beauty that had captivated the Prince Regent. Her large hazel eyes and excellent skin were still in evidence and her once blonde hair, now grey, was still silky and fine. She had gained a great deal of weight in her middle age. The watered silk of her gown strained across her ample bosom and her ill-fitting false teeth clacked somewhat alarmingly as she patted the seat of a striped silk chaise longue and urged us to sit comfortably with her.

‘Now, my dears, tell me everything!' she commanded. We were somewhat startled to hear these words issuing from the mouth of the woman who would be, if justice prevailed, the next queen of England. Selena and I stared at each other and then at our hostess.

‘We … we cannot imagine,' I stammered, ‘to what you are referring, madam.'

Mrs F laughed, leaned forward and patted my knee.

‘Very little happens in this town that does not reach my ears.' I was impressed. Her network of spies must be formidable. I imagined a whole army of Adelaides stationed below stairs. As we drank tea and nibbled ginger leaves she set about enlightening us.

‘Mr Getheridge took tea here a few days ago. I thought he was not looking at all well. I hear his affairs at the bank are proceeding badly.' My ears pricked up at this. ‘And, of course, there is his connection to the Prince Regent who is indebted to him.' She leaned forward and patted my hand. ‘Take care, my dear. I fear it will not end well for him.'

I almost choked on my ginger leaf. How could she know of my connection with Getheridge? I remembered the look on Mary Bertram's face and shuddered.

‘Of course,' Mrs Fitzherbert continued, ‘the prince is indebted to half the merchants of London, but the news about Mr Getheridge's affairs is very worrying.' Selena came to life at this point. She reminded us about the matter of Von Mecks.

‘Yes,' our hostess nodded, ‘a strange ending for one who seemed more concerned about the knot of his necktie than matters of high politics.' I assumed the deceased had also taken tea in this house. ‘I do not know why he was killed but I hope to discover something quite soon.' Selena and I were rigid with astonishment. I had no idea that the Prince Regent's morganatic wife headed her own espionage service. My friend recovered her wits quickly.

‘What was he doing here? Did he have business with the prince?'

‘He undertook a commission for HRH on the continent, before returning to England. I do not know what the commission was but it must have been of great importance if murder was involved. The prince will be greatly perturbed. I did not care for Von Mecks myself. His conversation was facetious, full of sparkle of the first water, but I was saddened to hear of his death and the manner of it.'

I recalled that my patron had also been badly affected by the incident, to the extent of forgetting my existence. I pointed this out to our hostess who patted my hand again and said it was just as well. I would in that moment have told her all about Jerry Sartain as well, were if not for the suspicion that she already knew. For a moment I longed to be back in London with nothing to worry about but the date of the next card party. I had progressed from a living death of boredom at Pemberley to an uncomfortable proximity to the criminal underworld.

‘Mr Getheridge is so cast down by the Von Mecks affair that he speaks of retiring to Bath to take the waters,' I commented. Mrs Fitzherbert looked startled and then an expression of distaste crossed her face.

‘If one cannot be in Brighton, then London is the only place to be. In no other place can fortune be so successfully wooed.' She gave me a meaningful look as she spoke. How comforting it was to be advised by one who was well-disposed and in possession of great wisdom. I felt that this gracious lady had taken me under her wing in some way and I knew I could count on her advice.

As if she read my thoughts the lady remarked that it was fortunate we were living just across the Steyne. ‘You must come to visit me frequently, my dears.' Our kind hostess then enquired after the health of Selena's spouse. How was he faring in peacetime and were his prospects good? My friend sighed that life on an officer's half pay was not easy.

‘My husband is ill-fitted for life outside the military, madam. Miles is, of course, a gentleman. That is to say, he keeps his hands out of his pockets and has no visible means of support.'

Mrs Fitzherbert clucked sympathetically. ‘And have you no fortune of your own my dear?' Selena shook her head sadly.

‘I will inherit a small estate in Ireland should my uncle and his son expire suddenly.'

‘Anything is possible,' remarked the lady enigmatically. She rose to her feet. ‘Always think of England my dears,' she said with great feeling. I reflected that I preferred to think of Lord Byron at moments of great emotion. We made our farewells.

Selena appeared to be quite bemused by the experience. She made her way unsteadily across the street to Halfcrown House and remained blindly unaware when Jerry Sartain materialised from the alley alongside the Fitzherbert house and whisked me away.

‘We have urgent matters to discuss,' he muttered as he seized my arm. He was still wearing the livery of the royal household under his great cape. I protested that my companion would be dismayed by my disappearance but he was not impressed. He hurried me towards the Royal Pavilion, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial manner.

‘You know about the Von Mecks affair?'

‘I have heard it mentioned far too many times. I do not want to be involved in whatever you're planning.'

He leered at me in an attractive way. ‘Jewels, my dear. I know you cannot resist them.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘I refer to the jewels Von Mecks brought back from the continent. I know where they are hidden in the Royal Pavilion.'

‘Where?'

‘In the prince's bedchamber.'

‘You will never manage to steal them from there,' I said scornfully.

‘No,' he agreed, ‘but you will!'

Chapter Ten

I cannot adequately describe my feelings of terror at hearing this remark, dear reader. I knew immediately that I would have to agree to whatever Jerry was planning. He was an irresistible force. That is the only excuse I can give.