The next morning, she found her mother in the breakfast room.
“Good morning, my dear Amanda. You are up early today.”
“Oh, good morning, Mother. You look lovely as usual. I am off in search of a new bonnet this morning—with a feather, just so.” She demonstrated where the feather would be on her bonnet. “They are all the rage, you know.” She hoped her mother would believe she cared that much about a bonnet.
The duchess smiled. If she suspected anything, she didn’t let on. “How diverting. You have been far too often by yourself in your room of late. You will bring Molly with you of course.”
“Oh yes. And I hope to meet Miss Clarissa for tea while I am out as well. We expect the gentlemen to be exiting the street from White’s at precisely the same time that we will be strolling by and feeling in great need of company.” Amanda smiled at her clever idea.
Her mother watched her for a moment and then said, “I am happy to see you have taken your father’s counsel to heart. You know you will have to narrow your selection significantly before the end of the Season.”
They walked together into the drawing room. “I thought I was not allowed a selection. It was my impression my choices are limited to two.” Her response came out sharper than she intended. She amended with a smile and kiss on her mother’s cheek. “Not to worry, Mother. I am acting the perfect English debutante, wooing gentlemen, seeking marriage offers. Do you need evidence of my successes?” She waved her hand out beside her, indicating the room full of gifts.
Amanda picked up one card from the stack of callers. “Lord Walter wishes me to know I am as lovely as these roses.” She grabbed another. “Sir Kenton likens my siren hair to that of burgundy silk from France.” She reached across a table and grabbed a handful of cards. “They are leaving personal notes on their cards, Mother. And here is a full poem. ‘Ode to Lady Amanda’s Feet.’” She stopped to look again, and she and her mother burst out laughing.
“Is it really a poem about your feet? Who would write such a thing?”
Amanda’s face stilled, and she smiled appreciatively. “Lord Nathaniel. He says my feet are like the tinkle of bells in the church. Their smell as odiferous as a room full of flowers. Mama, I cannot figure him out. He is at times so clever and attentive.” She frowned. “At other times, he is truly boorish.” Her mother scoffed at that. “No, really. He dismisses me as if I were a child.”
Her mother asked, “What did Lord Needley leave you this morning?”
Amanda searched through the flowers and cards. “Here. Lilies.” She paused. “My favorite.” She turned suspiciously to her mother, who smiled with a convincing air of innocence.
“Maybe he knows you better than you think.”
Amanda considered how true that could be and said under her breath, “I hope not.”
She rose quickly. “Well, off to search out the best bonnets. I cannot allow these illustrious ladies of the ton to outdo my head adornment, now can I?”
The duchess smiled at her indulgently, and Amanda hurried from the room.
Molly and Amanda sat close together in the carriage as they watched London go by through the window. “We must stop on Kings Road at the milliner’s shop, and then I think we can walk over to Gramden’s printers on Abbey Street from there.” Molly nodded in agreement, her face tightened in worried lines.
“What is wrong?”
Molly’s mouth opened in surprise. “Oh nothing, my lady. I . . . I’ve never done anything quite like this before.” She ran her hands nervously over her skirt.
Amanda watched her for a moment until Molly met her gaze. “Have you changed your mind? It is quite all right if you do. You do not have to help me in this.”
“No, it’s not that. I was thinking about my father, is all. He would not take kindly to this outing of ours. Taking fliers to a printer, encouraging dissatisfaction. He would not. ‘Trying to ennoble the working classes,’ he would call it.”
Amanda frowned. “Even if we eventually win? Surely he would like our outing if it brought about more freedom and rights for you and your family.”
Molly sat quietly for a few moments and then said, “I don’t know, my lady. He takes great pride in serving the nobility, he does. Views it as his right and honor.”
Amanda smiled. A man who took pride in his work and does it well was noble by her own definition, title or no. “He is a good man, your father.”
“Aye, he is. And he would not take it kindly if I were to lose my position.” Molly’s eyes pleaded for understanding.
Amanda noticed Molly’s hands shaking slightly. “I will make sure that does not happen. You have my word.”
Molly nodded. “Thank you, my lady.” Molly’s hands rested in her lap and she leaned back against the carriage seat. Soon, she began to chatter about her family and her sisters and how they would react if they knew Lady Amanda’s errand that morning. Most shared her father’s sentiments. The young ones already looked forward to the day they too could enter a great noble house.
Amanda said, “Let us pray the man received my letter with the drawings and that he is willing to carry our fliers in his store.”
“I do hope he will, my lady. He may have the first group ready for us today. If he agreed to it, that is.”
Amanda nodded and hope filled her. “This idea of ours—it might work.”
The carriage and its two grinning passengers arrived in front of the milliners. After purchasing the first ridiculous feathered bonnet to catch her eye, they set off on foot to the print shop.
Gramden’s was busier than she would have liked. A group of well-dressed women lingered around stacks of fliers and laughed together. Amanda peered over their shoulders and was pleased at the quality of the drawings. Although these fliers were mostly in response to ton gossip or other news of high-society families, she had to acknowledge them as very clever and exhibiting an abundance of artistic talent.
How would her fliers appear next to this kind of talent? She tried to think encouraging thoughts, but the weight of her inexperience pulled at her hope. Her need to remain anonymous complicated things also. No one must know her new identity as the Sparrow. She needed to do everything she could to dissuade anyone from suspicion.
As she took in the full shop and considered how she and Molly were going to pick up their package, she decided to provide some kind of distraction. Just as Molly approached the counter, Amanda started laughing overly loud. The women in front of her startled at the sound immediately behind them. When they turned to see the source, their eyes rounded and mouths opened in lovely O’s of surprise. She did not have to fake her next laugh as she took in all six of them forming perfectly orchestrated round lips.
Luckily, she was already acquainted with one of them. “Miss Clarissa, how do you do? I expect I will see you shortly for tea, will I not?” She gave a brief curtsy and a warm smile.
Miss Clarissa, apparently pleased at being the only one in the group with such a high acquaintance, curtsied in return and responded, “I am well, Lady Amanda, thank you.” She made introductions to all the other ladies.
Amanda pointed to the fliers and said, “These are quite diverting, you know. Just look at that one right there.” It was a picture of a couple waltzing. The gentleman had his foot firmly planted on the dainty slipper of his partner. “Bless her feet! You know she’ll go to rest a moment in the ladies’ parlor after that. Do you suppose this is meant to be someone we know?” A few nervous giggles answered her.
She tried another flier. “And this one here, she’s bouncing the men away with her skirts. Why would she do that?” A few more nervous giggles responded. She could see they did not know how to respond, so she brought up a more interesting topic. Molly would be completing the transaction soon, and Amanda did not want any connection to the fliers coming back to her.
“And what of Lord Nathaniel?” She tried the only topic she knew of interest to all women of her acquaintance. All the ladies giggled at that. “What would his cartoon look like, I wonder?” A few ladies gasped in delight. “Shall we paint his image in our minds? Yes?” Several of them nodded vigorously and then blushed, looking to see if anyone had noticed their enthusiasm. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed other patrons of the shop look in their direction, showing interest.
“I know what I would draw.” A beautiful pale face with cunning dark eyes gained everyone’s attention.
Amanda laughed nervously. “You do?”
The lady swallowed and continued with a laugh. “Yes! This will be perfect! Because I don’t even have to make something up! I will tell you what I saw with my own eyes.” They all gathered closer, including the other patrons.
This young lady had the undivided attention of everyone in the shop except the clerk at the front, who was leading Molly to the back room to pick up their fliers and to receive the art for their next order. She smiled with satisfaction, knowing that some of her fliers would also be seen amongst the drawings as early as tomorrow.
The lady continued. “I was at dinner with Lord Nathaniel just the other evening.” Some of the ladies sighed. Amanda managed to refrain from rolling her eyes. “He was talking to the woman at my right across from him, flirting outrageously, planning their next rendezvous in the park, and what did I see underneath the table? His boot brushing that of the woman to his left!” The women gasped in unison. “It is true. And there’s more.” The women leaned closer and the other patrons hushed to silence.
Amanda shook her head, hesitating. Should she stop this defamation before it went any further?
“His hand, ladies, his right hand was resting on the hand of the woman at his right, under the table.” The ladies brought hands to their mouths while they uttered another gasp collectively.
Miss Clarissa sniffed. “I for one find that difficult to believe. Lord Nathaniel and I are personal friends. I do believe I am a favorite of his. And I have never found him to be anything less than a gentleman.”
Aha, curious. Amanda had found a true admirer. She nodded. “We all know he is a bit . . . free with his attentions, ladies, but it is all in good fun, is it not? Nothing indecent, to be sure.”
The dark-eyed beauty spoke again. “Oh come now, Miss Clarissa, everyone knows him to be one of the most outrageous rakes of the last three Seasons. I saw it with my own eyes, more or less.” The women laughed. “The cloth on the tables blocked my view, but looking at the angle of their hands and the expressions on all the faces involved—well, it had to have been just as I said. Besides, we are inventing cartoons, are we not? And that one perfectly describes our dear Lord Nathaniel, does it not?” The group, excepting Miss Clarissa and Amanda, all nodded vigorous approval.
Amanda noticed a man watching and listening intently while taking a few notes on a pad. Molly cleared her throat across the room as if coming in the front door. Amanda made her way to the counter and purchased some stationary for writing letters and a new quill pen. While at the counter, she asked about the man taking notes. “Who is that man over there?”
The clerk answered, “That is Peter Hamilton. He is one of our cartoon artists. Right talented man, he is.”
Amanda gulped. She hoped their conversation would never be repeated, but she suspected it might show up on a flier somewhere. She nodded at the clerk and hurried outside after her maid.
She stepped forward onto the street, a breeze picking up the curls around her face. Empty streets and fronts of shops lay before her. Turning to the left, her foot nudged something.
“Oh no!” She bent to pick up the package of their new fliers, smudged and torn at the corner. She hefted them into her arms and stood in haste, now alarmed and wondering where Molly was, but found herself staring into the face of Jack Bender, who grasped her by the arm. Her heart jolted in surprise. “What do you want?”
Bender laughed and began pulling her with him. “Well, now, that is the question, isn’t it?”
“Where’s Molly?”
Looking up and down the street, he hissed, “No talking until we are in private.” She struggled against him as he dragged her away from Gramden’s. He gestured toward a corner ahead of them, which must lead to an alley. “We’ll talk there. I have something urgent I need to tell you.”
“Unhand me. You can have nothing to say I wish to hear.” Resting the fliers awkwardly on her hip, she continued to resist him. The fury in his eyes rose at her defiance and his free hand clenched into a fist.
He said in a deceptively calm voice, “Oh come now. There is no reason for bad feelings to exist between us. We have a friend in common after all, a friend you would not want to come to any harm.”
She halted, and Bender turned toward her. “If you mean my mother, she is no friend of yours. Not after—”
“Do not speak of your mother to me.” Nostrils flaring, he stepped closer, bearing down on her. “I’m talking about Charles Lemming.”
Amanda stilled, and her heart pounded. “How do you know Charlie?”
“Well now, you will have to come with me to find out.” Leering closer to her face, he said, “Coming, Lady Amanda?” He snatched the parcel from her hands and gave her arm a pointed tug. “You don’t want to endanger two of your servants in one day.” He added, “Molly is a pretty girl.”
What to do, what to do! The street remained empty. She searched the shop fronts and seeing no one to come to her aid, she glanced behind her toward Gramden’s. No one must have noticed the goings-on outside the printshop. Her coach and footmen were not coming back for her for several hours yet. Would Bender really harm Molly? Or Charles? She did not see them anywhere, but she daren’t risk their well-being. And she needed those fliers. Even her generous pin money could not buy more right away. Daring not to keep Bender waiting long, she took a deep breath and allowed him to lead her around the corner and into the alley.
The light dimmed as soon as she stepped into the narrow passage. Stone walls on either side, towering up to the sky, blocked a portion of the sun. Bender turned around when she joined him and quickly pushed her back against the nearest wall. Crushing her to it, he restrained her and said, “Now, listen. I’ve got Charles Lemming. He works for me. Once a week he checks in, and I give him my orders. Thinks he’s fighting for freedom, poor sap.”
Finding it difficult to catch a full breath, Amanda coughed and struggled against him. She felt her back rub painfully against the stone behind her. “You are too close. I can’t breathe.”
“Do you hear me? Lemming is mine, make no mistake.”
“You’re lying. He’s my neighbor’s stable hand.”
“He no longer works for that family. Gave his notice last month.”
Amanda’s eyes opened wide. Charlie came to London to work for this man?
“Didn’t tell you, did he? Well, you will find there is a lot you don’t know about your dear friend Charles.”
“He’s not my dear friend.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Bender pressed harder. Her head hit the wall, and she felt the ache behind her eyes. Blinking, trying to maintain focus as her vision went blurry, she turned her head to avoid his foul breath. She couldn’t stop her own rapid breathing.
“Here’s where this gets interesting.” His hand clamped onto her chin and forced her to face him. “You see, Lady Amanda, you hold dear Lemming’s fate in your very lovely hands.”
A feeling of dread entered Amanda’s mind. What would he do to him? And what of Molly?
“I see you are beginning to understand my proposal. I need something. And you are going to get it for me.”
Amanda forced herself to speak. “And in return?”
Jack Bender smiled an awful grimace, his eyes black as coal. “You are quick to understand, my pet. In return, I will not harm Mr. Lemming. But if you cross me . . .”
Amanda flinched. The black dread became a heavy rock in the pit of her stomach. Swallowing, she tried to slow her breathing.
Bender shrugged. “Lemming’s life means nothing to me. He will be gone before you can even think to apologize.”
“What do you w-want from me?” Her knees started shaking. Desperately, she tried to focus.
Bender’s chilling, grating laugh filled the alley, loud and long. “It is simple, my dear. I need your father’s signet ring.”
Amanda forced herself to concentrate. It wasn’t a reasonable request. “You must be insane. I cannot possibly even remove it from his finger!”
The foul man backed up a half step. “Oh come, my dear. Surely he does not leave it on his hand every hour of the day.”
She knew there were times he was not wearing it, but it was always kept carefully in his desk otherwise.
A person with a duke’s signet ring would have great power, indeed. She shook her head. “What you ask is ludicrous, impossible.” Amanda reached for courage within herself and clung to the smallest sparks she found there. She raised her chin and said, “And as soon as he saw it missing, he would simply notify his correspondence and work to make a new, altered one.”
For a brief moment, Bender hesitated. His eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes glazed over as he wrestled with some inner turmoil, but then he smiled. “Then we shall just borrow it. I will need you to gain access to the ring and bring it to me at a time and location I will disclose. I will use it, and then you may return it to its place. You will tell no one, and you will perform these tasks as described with precision.”
What could she do but agree? Amanda nodded. But she had no plans to actually do as he requested. Any letter sealed in wax with her father’s ring would hold the weight of a directive from the Duke of Cumberland. She would breathe her last breath before she betrayed her father.
Bender stepped closer. He smelled of the gutter, and she cringed. As he leered, eyeing her lips, she could endure him no longer. Gritting her teeth, she said, “You stay away from me!”
She lifted her reticule and swung it at his head as hard as she could. He stepped back, hand on the side of his face, shock and fury distorting his features. He stumbled back another step, unbalanced. Before he could recover, she ran at him with a great shove from both of her hands into his chest. He backed up one more step but did not see the rain barrel until he was already sitting in it, water up to his chest. Pleased with herself, she snatched up the fliers and ran as quickly as she could out of the alley in the direction of the store.