Page 23 of A Wallflower Demands Satisfaction
Percy could sense when they all came to the same conclusion, but it was Dickie who snapped his fingers and explained, “The seamstresses working on Olivia’s wardrobe must have also done work for the opera star, Miss Villeneuve.”
Col added, “The unusual color of both women’s eyes probably alerted them to a connection, and the one of them being blackmailed probably needed the money she got from the gossip sheet for passing on theon dit.”
13
APRIL 28, 1830
COUNTESS ZOFTERHOLLEN’S TOWNHOUSE, HANOVER SQUARE
* * *
Olivia’s skin literally felt like snakes were slithering across her whilst she watched the baron work his smooth way through the crush of revelers at Lady Zofterhollen’s rout.He had a small notebook he kept secreted within his waistcoat, but pulled out and recorded notations periodically if he heard a particularly interesting piece of gossip.
She and Her Grace frequently exchanged glances fraught with revulsion.At one point, he stopped to talk to Lady Haddon, one of the ton’s most notorious gossips.“Lady Haddon, this is Miss Olivia Whitcombe, my betro...umph” El had immediately stepped in and tramped forcefully on the top of the flimsy slippers he wore as part of his evening attire.
El turned before the woman could see fully what had happened and grasped both of her hands as if they were the best of friends.“Lady Haddon, it has been so long.You must call on us soon.”At the sound of low muttering behind them, the duchess changed tactics.“In fact, we’re having a few friends in for a late supper after the theatre next week.I’ll send round an invitation.
After that, it was simple to escape the baron by disappearing into a large, noisy crowd in the music room.Once out on the street, they raced over to Oxford Street and hailed a passing hack cab.
Once they were safely inside and the driver was headed back to Berkley Square, Olivia cautiously looked over at the duchess who returned the stare, and then they laughed so hard, it took Olivia a while to recover and ask, “Is it all right if we stop by Goodrum’s before we go home?”
Her Grace gave Olivia an odd look.“What do you need?”
“There’s something I left behind in my room, and I really miss it.It won’t take but a minute.You can wait for me outside.”
Captain El shook her head slowly, telling Olivia she didn’t believe that Banbury tale for one moment, but she knocked on the carriage roof.When the driver stopped, she gave him directions to Goodrum’s.
True to her promise, Olivia returned to the hack within minutes with a small box beneath one arm.She tried to ignore the questions on the duchess’s face as they headed back to the ducal mansion, but tightened her grip on the box.
* * *
April 29,1830
Duke of Chelmsford’s Mansion
Berkley Square, Mayfair
When Jameson announced there was a Peeler at the door, Olivia assumed Will had come back for her.But when her face lighted up with a broad smile, Jameson put a finger to his mouth and motioned for her to follow him to the duke’s study.
Olivia’s world crumbled as she stood behind Jameson and listened to him explain to His Grace that the Peeler at the door had come to search her room and take her back for questioning.
“What?”The duke thundered.
The shouts from the entryway from the Peeler demanding to see Olivia mingled with the duke’s raised voice brought Aunt El racing down from their bedchamber to see what was happening.When Jameson explained the presence of law enforcement in their entryway, Her Grace ignored her husband and strode down to investigate.
The young man who’d been trying to bully the footmen standing by the entryway ceased his complaints when he caught sight of the infamous Eleanor Whitcombe, complete with the scar from a sword slash across one cheek.Added to that was her considerable height which allowed her to tower above most men.
The young man mumbled a bit at her demand to explain himself and then insisted, “I have to search Miss Whitcombe’s bedroom.”
“Why?”El demanded, refusing to yield her ground.
“Because Baron Reynolds was poisoned last night in his home with salts of lemon someone put into a pie in his kitchen larder.”
“What does this have to do with my niece?”
The young Peeler suddenly regained his sense of superiority.“She’s a laundress, ain’t she?And they, of all people, have access to salts of lemon for getting stains out of clothes and such.”
Meanwhile, the object of their discussion, Olivia, had crept back up the stairs to her bedchamber to wait for disaster to swallow her whole.