Page 23 of The Viscount’s Forgery (Bluestocking Book Club #4)

Two weeks later

“ C an you see it?”

Eugenia shushed Lady Amelia as gently as she could, watching as two men carried out a parcel from the gallery.

In the last fortnight, Lord Suffolk had declared to as many of his acquaintances as he could that he was to purchase a painting by Thomas Lawrence, though it was not a portrait, as he was well known for.

Instead, it was another landscape, entitled ‘A View of Dovedale’, which he had claimed would suit very well with the rest of the paintings on display.

Eugenia had helped to advise him on what to purchase, and she had been touched at his determination to seek out her thoughts on the subject.

It had been yet another moment of closeness, one that Eugenia feared she would miss a great deal when this mystery reached its conclusion.

“Miss Trentworth has not appeared in the doorway, so it cannot be the right one,” Eugenia said, as the two men continued along the street, the large painting carried between them. “Besides, that one is much too large. The one in question is a good deal smaller.”

Lady Amelia nodded but said nothing more, her eyes darting this way and that. She had her back to the gallery, whereas Eugenia faced it, making it appear as though they were in conversation for fear that someone would be watching them.

“We must hope it will be taken out very soon,” Eugenia murmured, half to herself and half to Lady Amelia. “My sister is to have her dinner this evening, celebrating her engagement, and I cannot be late for it!”

This made Lady Amelia smile. “I was very glad to hear of that engagement, Eugenia. I am sure you are relieved.”

“I am, yes.” Taking her eyes from the gallery door for a moment, Eugenia thought of the moment her sister had declared herself engaged.

There had been many happy tears, warm embraces, and words of congratulations, though Eugenia had also sensed the great relief that had swarmed through all of them.

“My parents, however, have been all the more attentive to Polly, even more than before!”

Lady Amelia chuckled softly. “Though that, I presume, has done you a great deal of good, given that you need not tell them where you are going at all times?”

Eugenia smiled back at her, albeit a little wryly. “Yes, so long as I have my maid with me, then they do not particularly mind.”

“Except she is back in my carriage and not with us.”

Laughing, Eugenia shrugged. “What can I say? I do not want to always be watched, especially when I have such good friends as – oh!” Her gaze returned to the door of the gallery, only to see Miss Trentworth frantically waving. “We have missed it!”

Lady Amelia gasped, spinning around as Eugenia looked in the direction Miss Trentworth was now pointing in.

Hurrying down the street and leaving Miss Trentworth to return to the carriage and follow after them, Eugenia and Lady Amelia looked all about them for anyone carrying a painting.

Mortified that she had missed the one thing she had meant to be watching for, Eugenia prayed desperately that she would be able to find the painting, just as a man crossed the road near to them both.

“There it is!” she exclaimed, grasping Lady Amelia’s arm and pulling her forward. “There, do you see?”

“Then we must go after him!” Lady Amelia exclaimed, just as a carriage drove between them and the man. “Blast these carriages!”

Eugenia waited impatiently for there to be a clear space in the road between them both, her heart in her throat as she was finally able to lift her skirts a little and almost run across to the other side.

The man was a good distance ahead of them now, but, as they quickened their steps after him, he began to slow.

“There is Miss Trentworth and Lady Rosalyn,” Lady Amelia gasped, as a carriage moved past them at a slow pace. “Shall we get inside?”

Eugenia shook her head, slowing her steps and walking a good deal more calmly now. “Look. He has come to a stop.”

“And seems to be waiting for something.” Lady Amelia came to stand beside Eugenia, waving the carriage to stop. “What shall we do?”

“We should watch.” Eugenia looked at the carriage. “Lady Rosalyn, might you drive up the road and look out of your window? Mayhap Miss Trentworth might walk back thereafter to join us?”

Lady Rosalyn nodded as she and Miss Trentworth began to speak quickly, the carriage beginning to roll away again.

“Come, take my arm,” Eugenia said, offering it to Lady Amelia. “We must look as though we are taking our time, laughing and conversing and simply enjoying each other’s company.”

“Whilst watching to see who this is,” Lady Amelia murmured, as they began to walk together. “Why is that man waiting? The parcel is meant to be taken to Lord Suffolk’s townhouse, is it not? Surely they would take a hackney or some such thing.”

“I would have thought so.” Eugenia frowned. “Mayhap that is what he is waiting for.”

They continued to walk, not saying anything to each other despite Eugenia’s intention to smile and laugh and pay great attention to all that Lady Amelia said.

Her eyes were fixed on the man with the painting, all parceled up and ready for delivery.

As they watched, a hackney came up behind Lady Rosalyn’s carriage, coming to a stop.

The man climbed in quickly, and the hackney continued, making Eugenia’s heart throw itself upwards in a panic.

“We must follow it!” she exclaimed, aware that the carriage itself was now ahead of the hackney.

Miss Trentworth came hurrying towards them, her eyes wide as Eugenia stepped out from the pavement, waving her hand wildly to catch the next hackney.

It was not at all what a lady ought to do, but she did not care.

“Did you see who was in the hackney?” Lady Amelia asked as Miss Trentworth joined them. “It must have been directed to stop for that man by whoever was inside.”

Much to Eugenia’s relief, a hackney pulled up very quickly just as Miss Trentworth answered.

“No, I did not. The door opened and closed again much too quickly.”

“Follow the hackney in front,” Eugenia instructed the driver. “And be quick about it!”

Much to her relief, the driver seemed eager to do as she had asked, moving away before she had even had the chance to sit down properly. With a jolt, the breath a little knocked out of her, she sat back and closed her eyes. “There is something amiss, certainly.”

“Which is a good thing, is it not?” Lady Amelia asked, as Eugenia opened her eyes to look at her. “It means that we know there is something going on, something nefarious.”

“We can be fairly sure that the painting is to be exchanged in that hackney,” Miss Trentworth agreed. “The way it came to a stop directly beside that man tells us there was someone inside, directing him to do so.”

Eugenia nodded, her heart still hammering. “Yes, that is so. Which means we are very close indeed to finding out the truth.”

“But how shall we see who else is in the hackney?” Lady Amelia asked, as Eugenia tried to think quickly as to what they ought to do. “We will miss it, surely, for the man will step out of the hackney and up into Lord Suffolk’s house, and then the hackney will pull away.”

“Lady Isobella is waiting there,” Miss Trentworth said, slowly, “though she will not have any awareness of what is happening, so she will not look inside.”

Licking her lips, Eugenia gripped the edge of the seat and then leaned forward. “I have an idea.”

“We must hurry.” Eugenia climbed down from the hackney, relieved that her plan, thus far, had worked.

The hackney driver had been instructed to take them to Lord Suffolk’s townhouse, just as fast as he could.

His eagerness to please had been made more than apparent when he had pushed the hackney to the other side of the street, moving past not only the hackney in front but also Lady Rosalyn’s carriage!

They had paid the driver extravagantly and were now waiting for the hackney with the painting to approach.

They could not be sure that the hackney would stop exactly at Lord Suffolk’s townhouse, but if it deposited the man nearby, Eugenia had to hope that Lady Rosalyn would see it and would follow the hackney thereafter.

“There is Lady Isobella.” Eugenia waved one hand at her friend, who was standing opposite Lord Suffolk’s townhouse, talking to someone. She caught Eugenia’s eye and nodded but did not move, clearly contented to remain where she was.

“I think I should stand on this side of Lord Suffolk’s townhouse,” Lady Amelia suggested, her words spinning out of her quickly. “If the hackney stops there, then I will be able to see who is inside.”

“And I will go to stand directly in front of it,” Miss Trentworth stated. “Eugenia, if you would move a little further up the street, then one of us, I hope, will be able to see who is inside.”

Eugenia nodded and moved quickly, fully aware that it was entirely improper for a young lady to be standing alone on a London street, but finding herself heedless to such things.

Her only thought was on the hackney and whoever was within.

She wanted desperately to find out the truth for Lord Suffolk, wanted to know who it was that had been forging his paintings so that he did not have the things he had spent his coin on – and , if she could, for what purpose they had done so.

Her lips pressed tightly together as she drew in a long and steadying breath, closing her eyes for only a moment as she clenched her fingers tightly into fists.

Opening her eyes and releasing both her hands and her breath, she saw a hackney approaching, slowing down as it came near to Lord Suffolk’s townhouse.

It drove past Lady Amelia, then slowed even more though it continued past Miss Trentworth and the entrance to Lord Suffolk’s home. Her heart in her throat, she watched as it drew near to her, her breathing quick and fast as it finally came to a stop only a few steps from her.

The door opened, and a man stepped out. He looked behind him, nodded – and Eugenia acted before she could think. Hurrying forward, she put a smile on her face and exclaimed aloud.

“Oh, do wait a moment!”

The man with the painting stepped back, his eyes wide.

“I have been waiting for a hackney,” Eugenia told him, taking hold of the door and opening it wide. “I thank you. I – oh, do excuse me!”

A gentleman looked back at her, his eyes a little wide.

“I did not realize there was someone else inside,” Eugenia said, stepping back and putting one hand to her heart. “Forgive me.” She offered him a smile, her eyes darting to the paper-wrapped parcel propped up on the other side of the hackney.

“But of course, it is no trouble.” The gentleman returned her smile, though she could hear the hesitation catching the edge of his words. “If you would close the door, I will be on my way. I am sure another hackney will be along very soon.”

“We are acquainted, are we not?” Eugenia tilted her head, studying him.

“I – I do not think – ” The gentleman’s light smile slipped. “I do not think we are, no.”

It came to her in an instant. “I saw you speaking with Lord Suffolk recently,” she said, managing to keep her tone nonchalant. “I was very rude and stole him from your conversation. Though you must remind me of your title, for I feel quite ashamed I cannot recall it!”

There was no way for the gentleman to escape her question. His lips opened and then closed again, only for Eugenia to arch an eyebrow.

“Lord Marchfield,” he said, sounding a little strangled. “Now, if you will excuse me – ”

“I must beg of you not to inform anyone that I am out in London without either a chaperone or my maid!” she exclaimed, trying to laugh as she stepped back.

“Good afternoon, Lord Marchfield.” Closing the door, she demanded silently that her smile remain as the hackney pulled away, thinking that he might still be watching her.

It was only when it left her far behind that Eugenia let her smile crash to the ground, a long breath escaping her in a whoosh.

“Who was it?” Lady Amelia grasped her arm, the other bluestockings all coming towards her at once. “The man with the painting has gone inside, and I think we must go to see if the painting has been exchanged or not.”

“I think it has been, given what I saw,” Eugenia said, feeling suddenly weak and tired.

“That gentleman inside is a friend of Lord Suffolk’s.

” Grasping Lady Amelia’s hand, she looked all around at her friends.

“It was Lord Marchfield. The man who has been cheating Lord Suffolk, the man who has been exchanging his paintings for forgeries, is none other than Lord Marchfield.”

“Then we must tell Lord Suffolk at once,” Miss Trentworth said, her eyes holding a good deal of surprise. “Come, he will be waiting for you.”

Eugenia nodded and followed after her friend without hesitation or complaint. Suddenly, a great and desperate longing filled her heart as she approached the townhouse, wanting to step not only into Lord Suffolk’s townhouse but also into his arms.

This was all so very near to an end, but, in her heart, Eugenia felt as though something more, something deeper, was only just beginning.