Page 180

A week later

A lice grabbed the basket on the seat next to her and dragged the precious cargo into her lap.

The coach hit yet another rut and nearly bounced Olivia off the seat across from her.

Somehow the idea to have Dickie and Seamus drive them along the narrow mews lanes between Goodrum’s House of Pleasure and the Dowager Countess of Stanton’s Grosvenor Square townhouse seemed a poor choice at the moment.

Olivia had suggested they do so as a way to involve as few people as possible in their plot.

Not to mention the laundress had threatened both lads with a painful death if they breathed a word to anyone, including Lady Camilla and especially Sinjin.

“Why do you keep going over those instructions?” she asked Olivia. “You followed every step Sinjin listed.” She patted the basket where three carefully sealed earthenware crocks were nestled on a bed of wool fleece under a heavy cotton cloth. “The mixtures are correct. You don’t make mistakes.”

Olivia snorted and handed the page Alice had torn from Sinjin’s journal back to her.

Alice folded the worn wrinkled paper and slipped it into her black velvet reticule.

She did her best to ignore the sharp pang in her breast every time she remembered how she’d acquired the means of this final plan of revenge.

She told herself because she wasn’t using the mixtures he’d formulated on Stanton, Weatherly, or Earden, she wasn’t truly going against his wishes. She had yet to convince herself.

“You are certain they will attend Lady Stanton’s at-home?” Olivia asked. “This is all for nothing if they don’t show up.”

“They’ll be there. Lady Camilla mentioned that Millicent has set her cap at Lord Stanton and Millicent never goes anywhere without her loyal acolytes to sing her praises to one and all. You’re certain about the room under the stairs?”

“Absolutely. I’ve watched from the foyer and from the hallway to the kitchens many times.

When people hand their hats and coats to the footmen or that toplofty butler of hers, those things end up on shelves and hooks in the little room under the stairs.

I’ve delivered clothes there many times.

” Olivia’s role as London’s most sought-after laundress gave her access to parts of Mayfair’s homes Alice had never had occasion to see.

“Perfect. All we have to do is wait for everyone to arrive, sneak into that room, paint Millicent, Ophelia, and Margaret’s bonnets with Sinjin’s magical mixtures, and make good our escape.

” Alice sat back as the carriage slowed behind the dowager countess’s mews.

Lady Stanton had her own establishment as her son tended to hold notoriously debauched entertainments in the earl’s residence.

This information came as no surprise to either Alice or Olivia. The carriage lurched to a halt.

“We’re here,” Seamus announced as he opened the door and let down the steps.

“Dickie says go through that gate and follow the path. There’s a door that leads right into the servants’ passage behind the kitchens.

You won’t run into anyone as they’ll all be scrambling to put on the feed for the countess’s guests. ”

“How does Dickie know this?” Alice asked as she pulled the hood of her cloak up and hung the basket on one arm and her reticule on the other.

“Don’t ask,” Olivia said, and pulled up the hood of her cloak as well. She stepped to the front of the battered, borrowed carriage where Dickie sat on the driver’s bench. “Keep a sharp eye. You two be quiet and don’t cause trouble. We’ll be wanting to leave here in a hurry.”

Dickie rolled his eyes at his sister. “Don’t have to tell me how to make myself scarce. You two do what you came to do and…” He narrowed his eyes and looked from Olivia to Alice. “What did you come to do?”

“Don’t want to know,” Seamus sang quietly.

“Precisely,” Alice said, as she patted Seamus on the shoulder. “Let’s go, Olivia.”

They trod as softly as they could through the kitchen gardens towards the back of the townhouse.

The scent of the various herbs, some already in full growth and others sprouting up through the damp earth, filled the air around them.

Rain hung in the air, and London would likely see another storm before the afternoon was done.

Once they reached the door in Dickie’s instructions, Olivia lifted the latch and opened the old wooden portal just enough for her and Alice to slip in one by one.

Fortunately, a few small lamps lit the way down the dark, narrow corridor.

Drops of moisture slid down the walls and dropped onto their cloaks from the rounded roof mere inches above their heads.

Alice held the basket close to her chest so as not to jostle the crocks of the formulas Olivia had mixed that morning.

Whether because of the thought of what they were about to do or the close confines of the passageway, she suddenly could not catch her breath.

“Wait here,” Olivia ordered. She opened a door that let in both light and air, and Alice gulped in several breaths.

Her nerves steadied, she took a few steps closer to the open door.

She was at the very end of the corridor that ran alongside the front staircase and led to the kitchens.

Olivia stood farther up the corridor. She glanced back and waved Alice forward.

By the time Alice scurried up to join her, Olivia had the door to the little room they needed open and waiting.

“Thank goodness,” Alice sighed. “I don’t think anyone saw us.”

“Shhh.” Olivia clutched her arm and dragged her into a corner that would be hidden when the door was opened.

“How will we know when the guests have arrived?” Alice whispered.

“Here.” Olivia turned around and pointed to a narrow gap in the wall behind them. The slit was wide enough to see out into the foyer, but not wide enough for anyone to notice. “You watch. I’ll need you to tell me which bonnets belong to those three scurrilous harpies.”

“Right.” Alice peered out into the foyer.

In mere moments the guest began to arrive and the noise of the chattering women echoed off the domed ceiling of Lady Stanton’s entrance hall.

She and Olivia froze when the tap of a footman’s steps grew closer.

The door opened and trapped them in complete darkness.

Alice held her breath. Olivia tapped her shoulder to remind her to watch the foyer.

During what seemed like an eternity of footmen coming back and forth, Alice mulled over her decision to go through with this last act of revenge.

Perhaps Sinjin was right. She had so much hope for her life now because of him. He was everything she’d ever wanted or needed. She loved him, and despite his inability to say the words she suspected he loved her too. If only?—

Olivia gasped. An all too familiar voice rang out in the foyer.

Alice checked the gap in the wall to be certain.

Millicent, Ophelia, and Margaret had arrived, causing their usual stir.

Other young ladies flocked around them like barnyard fowl, clucking and squawking and admiring their gowns and bonnets.

Each was a perfect English rose with porcelain skin, bright blue eyes and shimmering blonde hair, perfectly styled to accent their cheekbones and foreheads.

Seeing them mincing about and being personally greeted by the dowager countess set Alice’s teeth on edge.

“They say he is a bit of a dullard, you know, or perhaps a bit mad?”

Oh no, they deserved what she and Olivia had planned for them.

The footman’s steps sounded like thunder as he crossed the marble floor and came into the little room.

He placed Millicent, Ophelia, and Margaret’s bonnets on the table in the middle of the room.

They were the same millinery creations the three women had worn to Gunter’s.

After the footman hurried out and closed the door, Alice released the breath she’d been holding and pointed out the hats to Olivia.

Her friend’s answering smile was absolutely terrifying.

They waited in silence until the foyer grew silent and the last of the footman passed by the closed door on the way to the kitchens.

Olivia peeked out the gap in the wall. “All clear. They’ve closed the drawing room doors.

Hurry.” She took the basket from Alice and set the three crocks onto the table next to the bonnets.

Whilst Alice opened the crocks Olivia retrieved to paintbrushes from the bottom of the basket.

They turned the bonnets upside down and stared at the insides of each.

“How should we do this?” Alice asked.

“I say we put some of each in each bonnet.” Olivia grinned. “Their hair will look like a crofter’s wife’s quilt. Quickly. We need to finish and slip out before anyone comes back.”

They worked quickly and quietly. Each mixture was used to dye hair a different color based on the ingredients added to a base mixture.

Alice never would have dreamed Sinjin would know the properties of various barks and berries needed to produce hair black as night, hair red as blood, and hair a mousy brown color.

Apparently, these combinations had been used since the time of the Egyptians.