Swanson,” said Jenny Dokes, her plain face lighting up with a smile that reflected equal parts pleasure and surprise. “Did I miss your note?”
Lina was seated in the other woman’s sitting room where she had been patiently waiting for nearly an hour after having slipped in the servant’s door. After stoking up the fire, she had spread out Maisie’s cloak before it to dry. Her hair, on the other hand, was hopeless; there was nothing to be done between the rain and Carstairs’s hat. After combing it out with her fingers as best she could, she settled in to wait, her cold feet thawing out on the hearth as steam rose from her half boots. Naturally she had first taken a quick search of the place and just as naturally, Dokes had left nothing of interest where a searcher could find it. The rooms were sparse and almost shabby, and Lina reflected on the general unfairness that deprived a talented woman like Jenny from having the opportunity to work for a bank or a counting house as would a man.
“No note, Dokes—I’m afraid I am out of coverage.”
“I see.” The other woman was unfazed by this revelation as she removed her pelisse and hat to hang them on the rack next to the door. “May I offer tea or are you in flight?”
Smiling, Lina replied with a gleam, “I would very much enjoy a cup of tea and I am more properly dead.”
Dokes arched her brows as she fetched the kettle to the hearth. “Heavens; who killed you?”
Lina folded her hands and shot her a look. “No such thing—I killed myself. I drowned trying to escape.”
“How shocking,” the other replied, taking the tea things from the cupboard.
Lina wasn’t fooled; Dokes was unshockable. In a light tone Lina asked, “You hadn’t heard? I thought perhaps your ciphered note was an attempt to warn me. There was an elaborate trap and seizure in play, with my humble self as the target.”
The other shook her head as she set the tray down on the table between them. “No—I know nothing of it—and the church hasn’t had a meeting in more than a week. The silence is rather strange; I had the impression events were pressing.” She gave Lina a dry smile as she dipped the tea strainer into the hot water. “You, on the other hand, have apparently been busy.”
“You don’t know the half,” Lina admitted. “I won’t cause you any trouble, then, Dokes. I wanted to ask you in private about your note, but I understand if you simply wish me gone.”
But the other woman shook her head and smiled. “Of course I do not—you are the only sensible female of my acquaintance.” As she poured out the tea she added, “Pray tell me how I may help.”
Lina released her breath in relief. “Perhaps you would be so kind as to not mention you have seen me resurrected, so to speak. Arrangements must be made and I’d rather not be seized again.”
“Willingly. And I suppose that this turn of events renders my own news moot.”
Lina leaned forward as though curious, even though she had a very good idea of the nature of the disclosure. “What was your news?”
Dokes placed her cup carefully on its saucer, which was chipped at the edge, and gathered her thoughts for a moment. “First, I ask that you understand that men along the lines of a Carstairs are not slated for such as I—I must make do with lesser beings.”
This was unexpected; carefully hiding her incredulity, Lina managed a delighted smile. “Are you to be wed, Dokes? My best wishes.”
Her companion made a wry mouth. “Heavens, no. Recall that I was under orders to meet with Henry Grant at the bank; we reviewed the loan records after the bank was closed, when there was no one about.”
Lina nodded in what she hoped was an encouraging manner, all the while thinking that she could not like where this was leading.
“I have been meeting him at his residence ever since.” Although she said it calmly, Lina noted the other’s cheeks were tinged with pink.
Suppressing her distaste, Lina instead rendered a sympathetic smile and leaned forward to touch the other’s hand. “We take our pleasures where we may—I completely understand.”
The other woman gave her a measuring glance. “No, I don’t think you could. You have high standards and no weaknesses—I wish I could say the same. But it wasn’t merely for pleasure, I assure you.”
Ah—now they were coming to it and Lina feigned puzzlement. “What do you mean, Dokes?”
Dokes met her eyes with her own steady gaze. “I had a feeling—he made me uneasy.”
Lina nodded. She knew those feelings well—they were the reason women who held this type of job survived. “So you inveigled him.”
“Think of it—for once I could take the role of an angel.” Dokes drew the corner of her mouth down at the absurdity. “It was a simple thing—he is not well-versed in deception.” A tinge of contempt crept into her tone; those such as they had little patience for others less devious. She added, “He likes to boast.”
“Men,” Lina pronounced dryly, and both women paused to contemplate the foolishness of the sterner sex.
“He spoke very freely of you, and said it was a shame you would be hung, although he seemed to take great pleasure in thinking on it.”
“They think me tainted,” Lina conceded modestly. “Hence the trap and seizure.”
Dokes shot her a look. “I think it is he who is tainted.”
Lina stared, feigning incredulity. “Truly? Grant at the Bank of England?
The other woman nodded. “I think he is working hand in glove with Rochon.” The woman observed Lina thoughtfully, as though the subject matter was quite ordinary. “I have the impression he is afraid of you—afraid you will grass on him to the others.”
Lifting her delicate brows in surprise, Lina asked, “As I am acquainted with Rochon myself?”
“Or so he believes.” Dokes watched Lina’s reaction from beneath her lashes as she sipped her tea.
Lina laughed lightly but was not fooled—she had noted that Dokes had not inquired as to her allegiance and was giving every indication she would stand Lina’s friend regardless of that presumed allegiance. In turn, Lina gave every indication that she accepted the other woman’s loyalty without question even though such was not the case and indeed, both were well aware that the other knew it was all a false front. One could not hold it against Dokes, of course—she had her orders and she probably had orders to seduce Henry Grant, too, poor thing.
Lina sat back, her brow knit. “Well, this information about Grant is a wrinkle—have you reported?”
“Yes. They were unsurprised.”
Lina thought it over, a tapered finger tracing the rim of the teacup. “I see; so if the church hierarchy already knows of Grant’s misdeeds, perhaps he was chosen purposefully, to lay a false trail for Rochon.”
“One would think,” the other agreed. “It would explain why he has such responsibility.” In a tone of mild contempt she pronounced, “He is no financier.”
“What is your assignment?”
Dokes gave a dry smile. “I am to continue laying my own false trail.”
Lina chuckled in acknowledgment at the double entendre. “And why did you send me my warning note?” She watched with interest to see what the other would say—she could not very well admit she was applying additional pressure so that Lina would attempt to escape with Gaston.
Her gaze sincere, Dokes replied, “I felt I should let you know what Grant was saying about you—and presumably saying to the hierarchy; although it appears the issue is now moot.”
Lina agreed in an easy manner. “Yes, you are too late—I have already been seized but unfortunately I drowned in the process.”
“I see.” Thinking it over, the other woman continued, “And instead of disappearing into France, you are here taking tea with me.”
Lina smiled. “As you see.” She then sipped her tea in the small silence that ensued.
As they had arrived at a wary impasse, Dokes apparently decided to fire a round. “The Treasury has no clue about the latest shipment of gold that went missing.”
“Yes; I am aware,” Lina acknowledged the apparent change of topic in a neutral tone. We are well-matched, she thought. We are each probing but neither one of us can gain an advantage.
“Napoleon has sustained a similar loss.” Dokes’s shrewd gaze examined her over her teacup. “An extraordinary coincidence.”
Lina felt a jolt of dismay and revised her last assessment. She is rather like Brodie, Lina thought—always one step ahead.
Her companion continued, “Grant seems to think Rochon is planning to have Brodie call in his bonds while England’s gold is missing—it would cause an economic panic.” She paused and delicately sipped her tea. “It seems far-fetched, to assume that Rochon could control Brodie.”
“Yes,” Lina agreed in a steady voice. “It is unimaginable that Brodie would allow such a thing.”
Absently, Dokes stared into the fire. “Of course, no matter how bad it looks for England, it is much worse for France—with its current financial situation, France cannot afford to lose any of its gold.” She paused, thinking about it. “Napoleon must be livid; no one will lend him enough money to mount another war—not without gold to back it up.”
Lina deemed it prudent to make no reply and stirred her tea with a desultory movement. The two women sat together in silence for a few moments.
“Where do you go now?” asked Dokes. “Would you like to stay here?”
Lina demurred smoothly, “I must try to resolve my predicament, but I will not impose upon your kindness, my friend. If it is possible, I will keep you posted.”
“You will stay in town?” Her gaze was guileless.
“Of course,” Lina agreed, knowing Dokes would immediately conclude no such thing was planned.
“You will be careful?”
Lina was touched; as far as she could tell, these words, at least, were sincere. “I will.” She rose and set down her cup. “Thank you, Dokes—I must be off.”
“My pleasure, Swanson.” Dokes did not rise as Lina gathered up her cloak and made an unhurried exit, holding out hope that the other woman would not pull a pistol on her but closing her hand around her own, just in case.