The Duchess Hunt (12 page)

Sarah tucked her own embroidery into its
basket and exchanged a glance with Esme. Was the lady ready for this? These
would be the first callers since their arrival in London – odd for a duke’s
sister to have so few visitors, Sarah thought, but probably not so odd for
Esme, who had fewer friends in London than Sarah ever would have guessed.

“It’ll be just fine,” Esme said, reading
her thoughts. Indeed, she seemed far more relaxed than she had during the ball.
Still, there was a tightness around her mouth and a stiffness in her shoulders
that belied her calm.

Moments later, the lady and her daughter
were shown in.

Miss Stanley wore a fashionable white
frock with a matching, fur-trimmed pelisse. Her beauty had not diminished after
the ball. Indeed, she was just as lovely in daylight, if not more so.

Sarah watched her gaze skim over the room,
taking in the light blue wallpaper, the marble hearth, the card table with a
half-played game of chess, and the darker royal blue of the furniture
upholstery, before her eyes came to rest on Esme. “Oh, Lady Esme, it is so good
to see you apart from that crush at the ball,” she told Esme warmly.

“Yes, it is good.” Esme gave the lady a
tight smile as Sarah turned to the footman to order some refreshments. With a
bow, he left the room.

Lady Stanley, her face a mask of concern,
gave Esme a full embrace, from which Esme stumbled backward, giving the woman
an odd look. “Oh, my dear. We have heard. And we have come to offer our
assistance in whatever form you may require.”

“Heard?” Esme’s expression was blank.

“The horrid news that your dear mama has
disappeared, of course,” Miss Stanley said.

Esme’s eyes widened.

“And that no one has the faintest idea of
where she’s got off to,” the baroness said.

“Oh. That.” Esme swallowed hard. “Where
did you hear that?”

The older woman waved her hand. “Oh, you
know. Word travels so quickly in our circles.”

Esme looked over the lady’s shoulder at
Sarah, who gave Esme a somber nod. They’d known this would happen eventually,
and they had talked through with Simon how they would manage it.

Sarah glanced meaningfully at the cluster
of silk-upholstered seats.

Esme gave a short nod and gestured to the
sofa. “Please sit down.”

“Why, thank you.” Lady Stanley and Miss
Stanley sat beside each other on the sofa, both of them still looking
appropriately troubled. Sarah wondered if their concern was genuine. If it
wasn’t, they certainly did a very good job of pretending.

When Esme and Sarah had taken their seats
in the armchairs across from the sofa, the baroness leaned forward. “Please
tell me what happened. I’ve been able to think of nothing else since I heard
the dreadful news.”

Esme’s chest rose and fell with a great
breath as she prepared to speak. When she did, the words were careful and
measured, and very close to what Simon had told her she should say. “Well, you
see, my mother is prone to whimsy. As most everyone knows.”

“Oh, yes,” Lady Stanley said. “Even though
we are neighbors, we have never been friends, which is a true shame. Though
every time I have met your dear mama, I have seen how personable she is. But I
have oft heard of her eccentricities as well.”

“She supports many charity ventures across
England, and even in Scotland,” Esme continued. “And we have concluded that she
must be off overseeing one of them.” She shrugged. “We believe she merely
forgot to tell us.”

“Oh, how vexing!” Miss Stanley exclaimed.

“Indeed it is,” Esme said gravely. “We are
doing everything we can to locate her, just in case it is not what we think.
But none of us is concerned.” She raised her hands in a gesture of defeat.
“That is Mama, after all.”

Well done, Esme, thought Sarah. While Esme
certainly wasn’t as easy now as she was when alone in Sarah’s company, at least
she had been able to speak to the Stanleys politely. And in complete sentences.
Furthermore, she’d handled relaying the situation regarding her mother with a
calmness that would have made Simon proud.

“Well, it does seem extremely odd that she
simply disappeared,” Lady Stanley said. “Did she take servants with her?”

“She did. Two of them.”

“Well, that is reassuring. May I ask what
measures you are taking to find her?”

“Of course. It’s quite simple, really. The
duke has been searching here in London while my other brothers are searching in
various places in England.”

“Oh, I am quite certain His Grace will
find her!” Miss Stanley exclaimed.

Sarah glanced at the young woman. She
seemed in earnest, her hands clasped tightly in her lap and her blue eyes
shining.

A pair of maids entered with refreshments
at that moment, and Sarah busied herself pouring tea for everyone. Esme and
Lady Stanley took their cups with thanks, but Miss Stanley hardly looked at
Sarah when she handed her the cup. Sarah was accustomed to being invisible to
those outside the family as a housemaid, but since she had been elevated to
lady’s companion she had been treated with general politeness, and to be so
blatantly ignored now gave her an odd, uncomfortable feeling.

“Well, if we can do anything, anything at
all, you won’t hesitate to let us know, will you?” the baroness asked.

“Of course,” Esme said. “But truly, my
brothers will find her. There’s naught to worry over.”

“I am so happy to hear that,” the older
woman said. “Indeed, I had heard otherwise.”

Sarah felt the muscles in her shoulders
stiffen. Esme frowned. “Oh? What have you heard?”

“It’s probably nothing.” When both Esme
and Sarah simply stared at her, she added, “You know… gossip.” She blew out a
breath through her closed lips as if in exasperation.

“What kind of gossip?” Sarah finally
asked. “Please do tell us.”

Miss Stanley gazed uneasily at her mother.

“Well…” The older woman gave a dramatic
pause. “Evidently, your brothers are concerned that she was
murdered
.”

Silence. Then Sarah and Esme spoke at
once.

“No evidence points to such a conclusion,
my lady,” Sarah said.

“Where have you heard that?” Esme asked.

Lady Stanley took a sip of her tea.
Following her lead, her daughter raised her cup to her lips as well. Lowering
her cup into its saucer, the baroness said, “My son is at Cambridge. He is
acquainted with your brother, Lord Theodore. I received a letter from him this
morning stating that Lord Theodore has taken him into his confidence and shared
his and your other brothers’ fears about the fate of your mother. My son, of
course, is extremely concerned, as we all are.”

“He exaggerated!” Esme exclaimed. “Theo
has no such belief. He would have told me.”

Miss Stanley’s eyes narrowed on her. “My
brother never exaggerates.”

Esme shook her head mulishly. “And my
brothers would have shared it with me if they harbored such concerns.”

Would they? Sarah wasn’t so sure. The
brothers didn’t want to worry Esme – she was already terribly fearful that
something horrific had happened to the duchess. Still, she knew Theo. He was
almost as reserved as Esme herself, and Sarah hadn’t ever heard that he and Mr.
Stanley were friends. It seemed unlikely he’d take Mr. Stanley into his
confidence like that.

Lady Stanley gave a tight smile. “Now,
girls. Georgina, you mustn’t quarrel – we are guests here.” She looked at Esme.
“A misunderstanding, surely.”

“Surely,” Esme agreed, but her cheeks were
flushed and her hands clenched over the sleek wooden arms of her chair.

Sarah racked her brain to think of
something to smooth things over. “Would anyone like a lemon tart?” she asked
brightly, reaching for the plate the maid had brought. Lady Stanley and her
daughter swiveled to give her blank looks.

They were saved from answering by a knock on
the door. Esme swung around. “Come in.”

A footman entered. “My lady, there is a
Mrs. French here from the Ogilvy School for the Blind to see you.”

“Ah!” exclaimed the baroness. “Ogilvy is
one of the duchess’s charities, of course.”

“A school for the blind?” Miss Stanley
said incredulously, as if she’d never heard of such a thing. “But why would one
bother to educate the blind?”

The baroness shrugged. “Well, my dear, as
we discussed earlier, the Duchess of Trent did have her eccentricities.”
Setting her tea aside, she rose. “Come, Georgina. It is time for us to go. We
are off to see Lady Morgan next.”

Miss Stanley obediently rose, while Sarah
stood more slowly, burning deep within at how the baroness had spoken of the
duchess in the past tense.

She was glad for the interruption. A new
visitor meant the current ones were given the cue to leave, and she was glad to
be rid of the Stanleys. Not very many people caused her discomfort, but the
baroness and her daughter certainly had succeeded in making her feel ill at
ease.

“Good-bye, Lady Esme.” Miss Stanley
gathered Esme’s hands in her own. “I am sure we shall see each other often over
the next months… and even more often after that. We shall be great friends.”

“Er… right,” Esme said, and Sarah hid her
smile. It seemed Esme felt the same about the Stanleys as she did.

Sarah curtsied and wished them a good
afternoon, and the two ladies left.

Esme and Sarah hardly had a chance to
exchange a relieved glance before Mrs. French entered. She was a tall, thin
woman with gray-streaked black hair and thick spectacles. She held a flat
leather satchel. Upon entering, she bowed low, clutching the satchel against
her chest.

“Lady Esme. You might not remember me, but
we were briefly introduced last year.”

“Of course I remember you, Mrs. French.
Mama and I visited your school and witnessed what an excellent job you have
done with your pupils.”

The woman flushed with pleasure. “Thank
you, my lady.”

Esme gestured to Sarah. “This is Miss
Osborne. Miss Osborne, this is Mrs. French, the headmistress of the Ogilvy
School for the Blind.”

“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” Sarah had
heard about Mrs. French and her school from the duchess, who had been very
pleased with the strides the headmistress had made in training and ultimately
finding sustaining employment for her blind students.

“Would you like some tea?” Esme led the
woman toward the sofa. “A lemon tart, perhaps?” Sarah noted that with this
woman, Esme didn’t need to be reminded of the common courtesies like she had
with the Stanleys. Or maybe she just felt the slender woman could use the food.

“Oh, no thank you, my lady. I cannot stay
long.” Mrs. French perched on the edge of the royal blue sofa, laying her
satchel beside her.

Sarah and Esme resumed their seats across
from her. “I recall that you were commencing a program of teaching some of the
more talented girls to sew. How is that faring?”

“Very well, my lady. Indeed, we have just
had our first young lady hired as a seamstress here in Town.”

Esme clasped her hands over her heart. “Well
done, Mrs. French. I knew it would be a successful endeavor. My mother would be
so proud to hear it.”

“Why, thank you,” Mrs. French said. There
was a long pause, and then Mrs. French gulped and said, “I have come to see you
today because I have heard that our benefactor the duchess is… er…
indisposed
.”

Esme’s voice turned sharp. “Is that so?
What have you heard of my mother being indisposed?”

Mrs. French clasped her hands hard in her
lap. “The
Times
reported this morning that she is missing. Shocking news, indeed,
and I am very sorry to hear it.”

“The
Times
, you say?” Esme glanced at
Sarah, who shook her head in bewilderment.

“His Grace left early this morning,” she
told Esme. When Sarah woke, two hours before Esme, Simon had already been gone.
“Surely if he read it before he left the house, he would have warned us.”

Esme turned her focus back to Mrs. French.
“But why has this information compelled you to come to see me today?”

Mrs. French wrung her hands. “I’m so
sorry.” She rose abruptly. “I should not have come. It is not a good time for
you —”

“Please sit, Mrs. French, and tell me why
you came.”

At that moment, Sarah saw a rare side of
Esme that reminded her of Simon. That side that could command and lead.

Mrs. French abruptly sat down again. She
opened the satchel on her lap and withdrew a sheet of parchment.

“It is all here, my lady,” she said in a
strangled voice. “The rents are due, and we haven’t the funds to pay. The
duchess wrote a promissory note for the amount of the rents. She assured me the
funds would be sent in mid-April in time to pay the rents by the thirtieth,
but…” She shook her head, not quite meeting Esme’s eyes. “I am so sorry, but we
haven’t received them. We haven’t enough in reserve to pay the amount due. We
have acquired ten new students due to the outbreak of rheumatic fever in
Holborn, and we’ve a new teacher to pay, and no means of paying the rents
unless the duchess can help us.”