The Counterfeit Lady

“Thank goodness the drawings are safe. And you heard there was nothing wrong with my calculations? You know my new warship design is everything I promised it would be? You do realize that means I never needed to take those drawings out that night and Clara wouldn’t have died.” Tears flowed down his cheeks.

Blackford cleared his throat and looked away.

I reached out and took his hand. “The man who killed Clara is dead. He was killed for the blueprints, and the person who took your drawings has been captured.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

I had no answer for that. I said, “Your solicitor is working on having the treason and murder charges dropped. You never responded in writing to the letter from the German embassy, did you?”

“No. Only verbally. And I never agreed. Not really. I ended up turning them down almost immediately.”

“Good. Then your solicitor should succeed. Once he does, you’ll be able to walk out of here a free man.”

Gattenger shook his head. “Free. And alone. I’m going to leave London, perhaps leave England. I can’t stay here. Not after what has happened. Would you have the servants close up the house and give them good references? None of this is their fault.”

“What about your ship designs?” Blackford thundered.

“The Admiralty has everything I’ve done. I don’t care about them anymore. Perhaps I’ll go to Paris and join the Expressionists. I know I’ll never draw another ship.”

“Think what a loss this would be to your country.”

Gattenger looked at the duke and shrugged his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter to me now. Nothing does.”

“Where were you the night before Clara died?”

He hadn’t expected my question. His gaze shifted between the duke and me. “I was at home.”

I glared at him. “Don’t lie to me. Where were you? We know you weren’t home in the evening.”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“If it doesn’t matter, why don’t you tell us?”

He ran his hands through his fair hair. “I went to see Lord Watson. The present Lord Watson.”

“Who?”

“Mrs. Gattenger’s cousin. The man who inherited her father’s title,” Blackford told me.

“His title. His house. His money,” Gattenger said. “I knew Clara would be in danger if the man who’d threatened me the night before decided to attack me at home. So I went to Lord Watson and begged him to take Clara in for a little while to keep her safe.”

“Did you tell him why?” the duke asked.

“No. Only that I’d made a stupid mistake and I’d been threatened. I wasn’t afraid for me, but I wanted Clara where she’d be safe. Lord Watson employs a butler and a footman. A larger staff for a larger house where she’d be protected.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s recently married, and he told me he feared I was saddling him with his cousin so I could be free to do as I liked. I told him nothing could be further from the truth.”

“So he said no?” I asked.

“He said he’d think about it.”

Lord Watson hadn’t invited Clara back to her childhood home. I’d never met the man and already I didn’t like him. “Did you tell Clara this?”

“How could I tell her Lord Watson, her cousin, wouldn’t take her in for her own safety? If only he had.”

“His testimony may be enough to have your charges dropped. I’ll tell your solicitor and he’ll soon have you a free man,” Blackford said.

“Watson’s never liked me. Finding out I told him the truth will come as a shock to him.” Gattenger stared at us with a look of pure devastation. “Clara’s gone. There’s nothing left for me.”

*   *   *

BLACKFORD STEWED THE entire ride across London to my shop. I didn’t say a word. I understood Gattenger’s pain. He’d have to find his own way, alone, into his future.

Just as I would eventually have to face a future without Blackford. A future without love.

Once we arrived at the bookshop, Blackford handed me down to the street. I dashed inside to find Frances waiting on a customer while Grace, Emma, Jacob, and Sumner carried on a hushed conversation between two rows of bookshelves.

I took a deep breath of warm, slightly musty air and felt at home. My bookshop was still in one piece. Dickens ran over to greet me, swiped at my hem with the claws extended from his paw, and stomped out the front door of the shop. I watched him, fascinated. I had never seen a cat stomp before.

I had also never seen a duke hold a door open for a cat.

“I’m glad to see you’re all right,” I said, hurrying over to the four. I knew Blackford would follow.

“Thanks to Sumner. The baron’s valet tried to kill me last night after I saw him arguing with one of the Admiralty clerks. The clerk was beaten up worse than I was,” Jacob said. One eye was blackened and he had a bandage on that side of his head. I could see the bottom of another bandage sticking out below his shirt cuff.

Fortunately, Sumner showed no ill effects from the encounter, because Emma now stood a modest few feet from him, looking him over. The protective expression on her face told me I didn’t want to think about what Emma would do if Sumner had been hurt.

He was staring back at her and gri

Emma raised her eyebrows but didn’t respond.

“You’ve heard about what transpired with Lady Peters, von Steubfeld, and Snelling, and no one thought to report what happened here?” the duke asked in an outraged voice.

Sumner stopped gri

“So putting you in the Admiralty records room paid off, Jacob? The clerk who’s been helping von Steubfeld was arrested?” I asked.

“Yes. The baron paid the young man well enough to tip him off, but not well enough to keep his mouth shut when beaten up and facing a long prison sentence,” Jacob said. “It turned out the clerk had been instructed to carry on a conversation on the weaknesses of Gattenger’s ship design within hearing of Sir Henry, knowing Sir Henry was most likely to press Gattenger on the issue. When Gattenger requested a full set of blueprints to take home an hour later, the clerk told the baron, putting the plan into action.”

“Baron von Steubfeld must have immediately hired Snelling for that night, having used his services before, and then visited Lady Be

“Poor Ken and Clara,” Emma said. “They didn’t deserve this. The baron thought they’d argue somewhere other than the study?”

Blackford said, “He didn’t know them or their household. Von Steubfeld has lost his effectiveness as a spymaster. That will have to be his punishment for now.”

“Doesn’t seem sufficient,” Sumner said.

The duke gave him a dark look. “I said, for now.”

The other faces held the same expression of dawning recognition as mine.

“What goes around comes back,” Frances said. “And are you back for good, Georgia?”

I glanced around the shop. No customers. “Yes. How has it gone?”

“Well, cheap editions on anything to do with royal weddings and grand duchesses and Russians have been flying out of here as quickly as we shelve them. Sir Broderick said to raise our order, and it’s paid off.”

“We’ve only been gone a few days. What has happened?”

“They just a