Page 33 of A Silence in Belgrave Square (Below Stairs #8)

As always, Hannah’s directions to a meeting were cryptic. Today was a vague stretch of time, and there were several greengrocers on Oxford Street.

Nevertheless, I brought out onions and mushrooms to make into a thick soup for luncheon, instructed Tess how to start, and took up my basket.

“I can go to the shops for you,” Tess said hopefully. She likely wanted a chance to encounter Caleb, who she’d told me would continue his beat until officially moving into his new position.

“Next time,” I said, not liking how quickly her eagerness faded. “Or perhaps you can take a short walk this afternoon to get some air.”

Tess brightened and returned to her chopping. I dashed up the stairs and out into the street.

The morning was warmer, June quickly approaching. I walked purposefully north through Grosvenor Square to Oxford Street and headed for my usual shop. Hannah would likely know which one. She probably had instructed Adam to report to her all my haunts.

An elderly beggar woman lingered by the greengrocers, hunched over a bundle she held close to her chest. I had become used to Hannah’s disguises and pretended to ignore her as I approached the open-front shop.

The beggar started to rise, tripped, and fell into me. Her bundle crashed to the ground, and half-squashed fruits and vegetables tumbled and began to roll into the street.

“Let me help you, love,” I said quickly. I bent to retrieve her things as she sniffled, noting that she was quite odiferous.

“You dropped another,” Hannah’s voice came from behind me. I looked up to see her, dressed as herself, holding out an apple to the elderly woman.

“You’ve ruined all me things,” the beggar snarled at me. “Watch what you’re about.”

“Nonsense,” I said, trying to recover my surprise. “Most of these are fine, and I’ll buy you a few new cucumbers.”

She sniffled again. “All right.”

I ducked into the grocers to procure the fresh vegetables while Hannah remained to put the woman to rights. I handed the beggar the replacements when I came out, and she shuffled off without much gratitude.

“That’s an old trick,” Hannah said as we watched the woman hobble along the street. “She’ll do it again at the next shop—crash into someone and spill her wares so they’ll buy her better ones. You’re too good to the likes of her.”

“I thought she was you,” I said. “And yes, I do feel sorry for her, ruse or no.”

Hannah laughed at me. “Like I say, you’re a bright-winged angel.

I didn’t have time to do much more than change me dress and squash on a hat.

” The hat was large, covering all of Hannah’s hair, and her gown was the one I’d seen her wearing at her Portobello Road stall.

“Her ladyship and the housekeeper think I’m at the shops.

Marjory the maid went into Fortnum’s on an errand, and is still there waiting for an order to be bundled up, for all anyone knows. ”

Meaning she’d walked into Fortnum’s dressed as an upstairs maid, changed her appearance somewhere in its recesses, and walked out the back door as herself. She’d reverse the procedure when she went back. Hannah’s ruses could be simple, but effective.

“Let us step somewhere we can speak, then,” I suggested.

“Don’t you need to buy your veg?” she reminded me. “So those in the kitchen think you’re shopping like I’m meant to be?”

“I will purchase the things when we are finished. Everything needs to be fresh as can be, and they won’t improve being tucked into my basket for an additional half hour.”

Hannah shook her head good-naturedly. “You really enjoy being a cook, don’t you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a cook,” I said, a bit stiffly. “Preparing good food is a skill I’m not ashamed to have cultivated. There’s a tea shop a few doors along. Let us pause for a cup.”

Hannah remained amused but followed as I went into the shop in which I sometimes took refreshment. I chose a table in the far corner, away from the few ladies who’d also decided to spend a moment off their feet.

The waitress brought us a pot with cups and two dispirited biscuits, announced she had nothing else to give us this early in the day, and left us alone.

“ How do you propose to let me enter the house?” I asked as I poured out the steeped tea. “I’ve been itching with curiosity. Is the cook leaving now that the master is gone?”

“Not a bit of it.” Hannah accepted the cup I handed her.

“Lady Fontaine wants the household to stay together as long as she can. The next viscount is a distant cousin, and she can’t be certain he won’t sling her out when he finally reaches London.

Lady Fontaine’s trying to decide what to do.

Poor lamb. I feel sorry for her, even if she’s a right old bitch.

But her surliness comes from never knowing where she’ll be welcome. ”

“If not as cook, then what?” I asked. “A relation of Marjory? Come to make sure her sister’s all right?”

Hannah shook her head and took a noisy slurp of tea. “I have to say, this shop does a much better tea than that awful pub in Leicester Square.”

I agreed. “They buy it from Twinings, even if it is the lowest quality they sell. Now please cease teasing me and tell me what you have in mind.”

Hannah’s grin showed me she was enjoying herself.

“Lady Fontaine is agog to know what happened to her brother. She at first insisted the secretary—your man—did it, but the police told her this morning that he has an unbreakable alibi for the time in question.” She paused to sip more tea.

“Isn’t this exciting? Like a detective story in the magazines. ”

“Not really,” I said severely. “Daniel barely avoided being blamed. Who does Lady Fontaine think did it now?”

“She don’t know, but she wants to find out. Seems she loved the old geezer. He was one of the few who didn’t run her off after a few weeks.”

“If you think to bring me in as a detective, I will refuse,” I said. “The police truly are investigating, even if they seem slow about it.”

“Nah, her ladyship don’t have any faith in policemen or detectives. She wants to consult the spirits.” Hannah’s dimples showed. “She does this for many a problem.”

“The spirits.” I regarded her with misgivings. “How will she do that?”

“A séance, of course. Spirituality is all the rage among the quality, if you didn’t know. I can’t tell you how many crystal balls and fake Romani table draperies I sell from my stall. People will believe anything.”

My alarm grew. “What has this to do with me?”

“Can’t you guess? I told Lady Fontaine I knew a medium who’d done wonders for my last lady. Can speak to the dead and everything. That medium will be you.” Hannah finished this astonishing statement and plopped her biscuit into her mouth.

“No,” I said immediately. “As much as I wish to look about that house, I refuse to do anything so silly. If Lady Fontaine is an avid spiritualist, she will know immediately that I am a fraud. I’m not even certain what mediums do.”

Hannah noisily swallowed the biscuit. “They pretend to go into a trance and let the dead talk through them, so you only need to roll your eyes a bit and speak in a mysterious way. Mediums are the best confidence people I know—they take money for telling their dim clients something vague that their late relatives want to impart. Though, most people try to ask the dear departed things like who they really wanted the silver tea service to go to, or where is that extra hundred pounds they’d hidden a few years back. ”

“My dear friend,” I said when Hannah paused for breath. “I could not possibly. Why don’t you do it? I’m sure you’d fool them beautifully.”

“Would if they didn’t already know me. But I’m a respectable maid trying to help her ladyship find a bit of peace.

I made out that I don’t really believe in spiritualism, but my former employer seemed to draw comfort from it.

If I suddenly declared I could sense Lord Peyton’s ghost and he had a message for Lady Fontaine, she’d smell a rat.

Much more believable if I bring in a stranger I pretend to barely know.

They’ve never seen you or know anything about you. ”

I regarded her in consternation. “Good heavens, you mean for me to do this.”

“Why not? You’ll get into the house and have a look around when you say you need to take in the atmosphere. Walk where the dead man walked, sit where he sat. I can’t think of a better opportunity. Besides, she’ll pay you ten guineas.”

“Ten guineas?” My voice rose enough to attract the attention of the other tea drinkers and the waitress. I cleared my throat and sipped tea until they looked away.

“That’s what I told her your fee was,” Hannah said. “She said she could scrounge it up from the money her brother left lying about. If nothing else, you’ll have a bit of extra cash for all this worrying you’ve been doing.”

Ten guineas was a lot of money. With it, I could purchase the fine fabric for the new gown I needed, plus something nice for Grace and have plenty left over to tuck into my building-society fund.

“Charlatans truly charge that much?” I asked in astonishment. “Perhaps I ought to reconsider how I make my living.”

Hannah’s dimples showed again. “Now you’re seeing wisdom. Don’t sound so daft now, does it?”

I tamped down my eagerness. “I could not in good conscience take money for fooling people. Although…”

“Although what? You’re liking the idea. I see it in your eyes.”

“If I do discover what happened to Lord Peyton—through means that involve this plane of existence—then I won’t really be fooling her. Will I?”

Hannah’s laughter filled our corner. “This is why I love ya, Katie, me darling. You come over all scrupulous, but you’re willing to overlook a little deception in the name of practicality. Like not peaching on a maid filching money from a mistress’s desk to feed her poor little boy.”

My eyes narrowed. “Your son isn’t old enough for you to have been stealing for him the night I caught you.”

Hannah shrugged. “I had other reasons, I’m sure.”