The Counterfeit Lady

Phyllida shot me little glances of worry. She’d no doubt heard the tone of my talk with Sir Henry, if not the actual words. I gave her confident smiles in return, while inside I knew I had to deal with yet another problem.

When intermission came, Lady Salisbury murmured, “Prepare yourselves for a great deal of curtsying. By now, everyone in the hall knows the prime minister is here, and there will be a line around the building wanting to greet him or ask if he’s enjoying the concert. Anything to come to his attention.”

“Is it as bad as all that?” I asked.

Voices in the entryway to our box caught our attention. “Yes,” she answered as we rose and curtsied to a duke and duchess.

The parade of British aristocracy and foreign diplomats continued for the entire intermission. Mrs. Monthalf was gracious. Inside, I was overawed.

Near the end, Baron von Steubfeld and Lady Be

“Perhaps you’ll do us the honor of traveling with us in the Duke of Northumberland’s saloon car,” Blackford added, more to the baron than Lark Be

“Oh, how lovely,” Lady Be

After all the well-wishers had gone and the orchestra readied to strike the first note, I whispered to the duke, “I invited Sir Henry to travel with us.”

His reply was a low grumble. I’d have thought he’d be glad.

“At least the Dragoness of Bad Ramshed won’t be with us,” Phyllida said.

“No, she won’t be there,” the duke said, eyebrows rising. “‘Dragoness’?”

“A difference of opinion,” I muttered.

I nodded off a few times in the second half. The heat of so many bodies, my long hours, and the strain of acting a role all evening were taking their toll. Phyllida elbowed me twice and the duke, who sat behind me and to the side, took to ru

We left the hall and saw the prime minister and his wife off before the duke escorted us around the building looking for our carriage. A confusion of horses and vehicles circled the round structure, each jockeying for better position or to park in front of a different doorway. As we moved along the outdoor walkway, nodding greetings to the famous, Blackford said to Phyllida when we reached an open exit, “I don’t think you should walk any further. The carriage should find us in a moment.”

Phyllida glanced up at him with a puzzled frown, looked around, and said, “I suppose you’re right.”

At that moment, the baron and Lady Be

Lady Be

The momentum carried me into Lady Be

“Oh, look what you’ve done,” Lady Be

“I am so sorry. Some ruffian shoved me. Where is he?” I glanced around, suspecting I’d recognize a face, but everyone in sight was well-heeled and middle-aged.

“There he is. You must catch him,” the dowager duchess screeched in a thick accent and pointed.

“No. It wasn’t him,” Phyllida said. “I’m afraid he’s gone now.”

“He must be an anarchist. We must stop him,” the count exclaimed and took two steps forward, only to collide with Phyllida.

She grabbed on to his lapels, murmuring, “An anarchist? I’m so frightened. You must stay here and protect us.”

“I don’t know who it was. I was too busy trying to catch Mrs. Monthalf and Lady Be

If he’d really been trying to catch me, I was certain I’d never have collided with Lady Be

Fortunately, by the time Lady Magda calmed her mother, Phyllida stopped rejoicing over everyone’s lack of injuries, and I stopped apologizing, the baron’s coach had arrived and he left with an aggravated Lady Be

Moments later, the duke’s coach arrived and we climbed inside. Once we were moving, I asked, “Was that Sumner?”

“Yes.”

“How did he know about the chocolate box?”

“He was watching them from inside the hall. Lady Be

“How could he have told you?”

“He came into our box in the second half. Didn’t you hear him?”

“No.”

“You must have been sleeping.”

“I would have been, if you hadn’t kept waking me.”

“I heard the whole thing. That’s why I knew to stop the count. Your friend needs to move faster next time if he wants to get away,” Phyllida told him. She was enjoying her role too much.

“If he’d moved any faster, he’d have called attention to himself in that crowd,” the duke replied. “Don’t go to the bookshop tomorrow, Georgia—er, Georgina. You need to get some rest.”

“I can’t, Your Grace.” I snapped the words at him. “I have to get everything ready for my absence. My several-day-long absence. Along with Emma’s and Jacob’s absences, I might add.”

He brushed the air, as if shoving away a pesky fly or my argument. “Sumner is filling in for Jacob admirably. I’m sure your Mrs. Atterby is doing well. Things are going splendidly. You need to get some sleep.”

“No, Your Grace.” Frances was doing well, and Sir Broderick was aiding her admirably. Still, it was my bookshop. My responsibility. And my livelihood.

“Lady Phyllida, can you reason with her?”

She smiled at him. “It hasn’t worked so far.”

He leaned back in his seat, his arms folded over his chest, and grumbled. “All right,” he said at last. “Do what you have to do tomorrow. The next day, whether you and your shop are ready or not, we will be leaving from the train station.”

“Including Emma?” I was hoping she could stay behind. She knew almost as much about the bookshop as I did.

“Of course Emma. Someone has to snoop around the servants’ quarters. And you and Phyllida can’t attend a house party without a lady’s maid.”

All I could do was pray my bookshop survived my absence.

“There’s something else I need to tell you, Your Grace. Sir Henry threatened me with exposure. He found out I really don’t have a fortune being managed for me in the city.”

He murmured something, then said, “What made him suspicious?”

“A maid saw me coming from his study after I searched it.”

“You were gone from the table too long,” Phyllida said. “Sir Henry said he was afraid you’d gotten sick and left the table. I think he got suspicious when I dragged him back into the dining room.”

“He wants me to find out from Gattenger, by five tomorrow afternoon, if the ship will float or sink. If I don’t—”

Blackford said, “We’ll see Gattenger tomorrow morning and find out. Do you want me to turn up at five minutes after five tomorrow?” If Sir Henry had been present at that moment, the duke’s expression said he’d run him through with a sword.