The Solitary Envoy (19 page)

“Of course, sir,” Carnathan replied weakly. “If you are certain this is the direction you wish to take.”

“Quite certain.”

“Then I shall do as you command.”

“Very good. I shall keep you no longer.”

As Carnathan rose to depart, he shot Erica a look of purest malevolence.

“Oh, and be so good as to transfer your duties to Harwell on your way out.”

Carnathan froze to the spot. “I beg your pardon, sir?”

“Did I not make myself clear? This matter is of utmost importance. Vital to America’s good name. Of course you will make this your sole activity until all the matters are satisfactorily resolved.”

“But—”

“There’s not a moment to lose, Carnathan. Off you go.”

Samuel Aldridge waited until the door had closed behind the dismissed aide, then looked at Erica. “He was a gift from the prince regent.”

Erica felt the band of tension squeezing her chest gradually ease. “You mean a spy?”

“Something of the sort, would be my guess. Naturally, I could not dismiss someone so closely linked to the royal court. So perhaps some good has come out of this rather expensive debacle.” He glanced at the open ledgers. “Dare I ask how costly this will prove?”

“I have not completed my tally, sir. But I suspect in excess of three thousand pounds.”

He winced. A gainfully employed bank clerk could expect to earn no more than a hundred pounds a year.

“If you will excuse me, Mr. Aldridge.”

He refocused upon her. “Yes? There is more?”

“I fear so. You see, some of these more recent letters are quite, well, demanding.”

“Threatening, you mean.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Which means we must hasten to make amends.”

“That would be my advice.”

“Would you be willing to help further with this matter, Miss Langston?”

“Of course, if that is your wish, I—”

“Excellent.” He raised his voice and called, “Harwell!”

The door opened instantly. “Sir.”

“The document I requested has been prepared?”

“It has indeed, sir.”

“Bring it here, that’s a good man. My dear, permit me to introduce my chief aide, Jacob Harwell.”

“A pleasure, Miss Langston.”

Aldridge read the document over carefully, took up his quill, signed it, and dusted his signature. “Is the carriage ready?”

“By the front portico, sir.”

He handed the document not to Harwell but rather to Erica. “You will accompany Miss Langston to our bank to ensure there is no question about this matter.”

“Immediately, sir.”

Erica had difficulty comprehending what she was reading. “You are giving me full authority as signatory for the embassy’s finances?”

“Who else am I to trust? You see what happened when I left such matters to the Crown’s own man. Upon whom should I depend? Harwell cannot work with figures, can you, Harwell?”

“Rather face a regiment of cavalry than a line of numbers, sir.”

Erica stared across the table. “Then you already knew, sir?”

“I suspected. But it took you to confirm it.” To Harwell he continued, “You will proceed with Miss Langston to whatever destinations she requires. Escort her the remainder of the day.”

Samuel Aldridge rose to his feet, drawing Erica up with him. “I fear your well-deserved slumber must wait a bit longer. But it is already Thursday, and there is no way of knowing what mischief our so-called allies might wreak by Monday.”

Sleep was the furthest thing from Erica’s mind. The thrill of such responsibility left her giddy. “I shall not let you down, sir.”

“Of that,” he replied, beaming at her, “I have no doubt whatsoever.”

Chapter 15

When Erica arrived outside, she found Lavinia Aldridge standing beside the carriage’s open door, holding a closed parasol in one hand and a hat with a long silk ribbon in the other.

“I thought you might care for a bit of company today.”

“Of-of course,” she stammered. “But what of the children?”

Lavinia allowed Jacob Harwell to help her into the carriage.
“The children are fine. A friend is watching them for me.”

But when the aide started to climb in after them, Lavinia said, “Would you mind terribly granting us a bit of privacy?”

“Not at all, madam.” Whatever surprise Jacob Harwell might have felt over the request was well hidden. He backed from the carriage saying, “Nice a day as this, I’d relish a bit of fresh air.”

“Jacob is a fine young man,” Lavinia said, settling herself comfortably into the velvet cushion. “I don’t know how my husband would manage without him. Or you, for that matter.”

“Me? B-but I have just arrived.”

“Precisely. And I don’t mind telling you, your delay troubled us mightily.”

The driver cracked his whip, and the carriage started forward with a jolt. Erica was pushed back into the seat as they rolled through the stone gates. To her right lay the expanse of Hyde Park. Because the day had turned so nice, a steady stream of carriages, coaches, open landaus, and riders on horseback took the air along what was known as Rotten Row. Piccadilly was a broad thoroughfare that connected the park and the boroughs on its opposite side—Knightsbridge and Kensington and Belgravia—to the city. The carriage turned left out of the gates, away from the park and toward London’s heart.

Erica realized that Lavinia had spoken to her. “I’m sorry, I was drifting.”

“I said that as soon as we received the letter from my mother describing you and your desire to come, my husband was convinced you were the answer to prayer.”

Erica didn’t know how to respond. She watched out the window as they entered the bustling Piccadilly Circus and turned toward the river. The last time she had come this way had been in the carriage after fleeing the riots. “Where are we headed?”

“Our bank is located at the city’s eastern edge, just downriver from Parliament.”

“Do we need to concern ourselves with the Troubles?”

“The unrest has been stifled, at least for the moment.” Lavinia’s tone caught a slight edge, though her features did not crease. “Would you prefer not to speak of the disturbances right now? You look far too weary to enter into such a complex issue.”

“I am rather tired.”

“Then let us remain with the matter at hand.” Brilliant sunlight glanced between the buildings and illuminated the carriage’s interior. At that moment Erica could see how much Lavinia was like her mother; the same upright stance, the same easy intelligence, the same direct manner. “Ever since your arrival, we have waited prayerfully in hopes that you would be the help my husband so desperately needed.”

“I’m sorry,” Erica said. “I have difficulty accepting that anyone would consider me an answer to prayer.”

“Shall I tell you what my mother said of you in her letter?”

“I expect she said I had managed to run off every young man who ever turned in my direction, including your brother.”

“Oh, dear Horace spoke of little besides you for months on end. Until the tragedy. But let’s not dwell upon that today.” Lavinia’s tone was light, her features cheerful. “My mother wrote that she found you an utterly astonishing young woman.”

“She did?”

“She said that one of your most endearing qualities was how completely unaware you were of your own beauty. And that you counted your intelligence as a liability, along with your forthrightness. Despite the fact that you and your mother were of very diverse natures, you still held your parents in the utmost respect and love. In effect, my mother said, you were every inch a lady.”

“But I am so poor at what is required of a lady. My mother once told me I was the only girl she had ever met who was mystified by the process of making a proper cup of tea.”

Lavinia coughed discreetly. “And this is what you feel defines a proper lady?”

The fatigue rose and fell like the waves Erica had lived with for weeks on end. One moment the world was clear and her thoughts lucid. The next it was hard even to hear what came from her own mouth. “I could not follow a needlepoint pattern if my life depended upon it. I do not dislike the company of other women, but sometimes …”

“Yes? Sometimes what?”

“I have said too much already.” Erica turned her face to the sun. The light was strong enough to cause pinpricks of real pain at the back of her eyes. Or perhaps it was simply because she was so tired.

Lavinia slipped across the central space to sit beside Erica.

She took the younger woman’s hand in her own and said, “You detest the empty chatter of most social gatherings. You despair of other women’s ability to talk for hours on end about nothing at all. You look into your own future and see little beyond being chained to a life that does not suit you one iota.”

Erica could only stare into Lavinia’s smiling face.

“My mother said the only risk she saw for you in life,” continued Lavinia gently, “was your tendency to make your own way to such an extent that it is difficult for you to call another person friend.”

“All too true, I fear.”

Lavinia’s voice took on a thoughtful tenor. “My husband and I find it difficult to identify our friends in this land. You have seen how testing this assignment has proven.”

“You knew of the theft also?”

“There are few secrets between Samuel and me, I am happy to say. We knew there was trouble with the accounts. How serious the matter was, we discovered only by chance, when a merchant approached me at a banquet. A member of the opposition party and a Dissenter.”

“Excuse me, a what?”

Lavinia hesitated. “I fear there is so much bundled together that if I begin I shall never end. The Dissenters are a church group. For years they were treated as outlaws because they vehemently opposed the war against the United States. Most of their members belong to the opposition party. As I said, a merchant approached me at a banquet. He told me of the unpaid bills and of rumors that were circulating. How those who resented our nation sought to use this matter to undo our good name.”

Erica found herself unable to hold the weight of such matters in her weary brain. “I am glad I did not know all this when I began.”

“As you can see, when Mother said you were an absolute genius with figures, the prospect seemed almost too good to be true.” She glanced over as the driver called to the horses and their carriage pulled to a halt. “We have arrived.”

The lane was far too narrow for the height of the surrounding buildings. The stern edifices turned the road into a shadow-filled valley. Erica was out of the carriage and starting up the front steps when the name above the door fully registered. She came to a sudden halt. “I can’t go in there.”

“Whyever not?”

The oiled door looked fine enough to belong upon a palace. The lead-paned windows to either side were bordered by stained glass. A beam of dark wood ran the length of the building just above the doorway. And upon it was embossed in gold lettering, “Bartholomew and Sons, Merchant Bankers.”

Erica felt the world shifting beneath her feet. “I-I am not ready.”

“For what?”

“To meet them. To confront …” She shuddered.

Lavinia returned down the step to where Erica stood. “Is there something I should know?”

“These people, this bank …”

“Yes?”

What was she to say? A uniformed footman was holding open the door for them. Lavinia stood before her. Jacob Harwell was at her side. Erica rubbed a weary hand across her forehead. How could she tell the world that this was the bank that had sought her family’s ruin? Had cheated them of their wealth? Had left them at the mercy of creditors? Had led to her father’s final rage?

Lavinia stood watching her somberly. “We are friends, yes?”

“Y-yes, that is …”

“Friends,” Lavinia said quietly. “We will do this together. Not merely this one act. But all that is to come. You, me, my husband, our staff. We are allies. Do you understand what I am saying?”

In truth, Erica’s addled mind had difficulty accepting the words. But her companion’s strength, resolve, and calm fortitude were enough to help her regain her balance. “All right,” she said softly.

“Shall we enter?”

“Yes.”

“You need say nothing. Jacob and I shall handle everything. Come along, my dear.” She took Erica by the arm and, after a word with a clerk, proceeded to a banker’s station at the rear of the high-ceilinged chamber, behind a waist-high partition of stout oak inlaid with a Grecian pattern of rosewood and birch. There was nothing sinister about the bank. It smelled of beeswax and coal smoke and India ink and papers. The main chamber was lined in ancient wood and brass. Pictures of sailing vessels and stern-faced gentlemen hung on the walls. The talk was quiet, respectful, and full of latent power. In any other place, in any other time, Erica might have said the room possessed an enchanting flavor.

After taking their seats at the chairs in front of the banker’s desk, Jacob began by requesting a book of sight drafts. Clearly he planned to act as messenger, going about with the papers she signed and delivering proper payment.

“It’s too late for all that,” Erica interrupted. “You have not read the letters.”

“Which letters are these?” Lavinia inquired.

“It doesn’t matter. Believe me when I say there is only one thing that will end these problems. And that is gold.”

The gentleman behind the desk was balding and senior enough to pooh-pooh Erica. “My dear young lady, you can be quite sure that trade in gold coin is not—” “One moment, if you please, sir.” Lavinia said, holding up a gloved hand with the authority of one well used to being obeyed. “Do go on, Erica.”

“We are facing not one crisis but two. There is the issue of overdue payments. Then there is the problem of the minister’s good name. Rumors are swirling. We need to go personally to those creditors with whom the embassy is most seriously in arrears. Payment must be made in gold. I remember my father saying …”

“Yes? What did your father tell you?”

Speaking of her father in this hall left her feeling both the weight of loss and the burden of future strife. Erica forced herself to respond. “My father said nothing turned aside the retribution of one wronged like a sincere heart and a payment in coin.”