CHAPTER NINETEEN

BLACKFORD rode off in his coach, and I began to check over my bookshop ledgers. I was still at it, fighting to concentrate on the figures, when Frances came in. “What’s happened with the Russians?” she asked as she took off her hat and gloves.

“The anarchists aren’t our problem. There’s been a group of burglars who’ve hidden among the anarchists, living in the same tenement with them. These thieves have been behind the big robberies in London.”

“The Marquis of Shepherdston?”

“Yes, and several other thefts, all just as daring.”

“Have they been caught?”

I filled her in on all that had happened during the night.

“Good heavens. Policemen shot.” The shock on Frances’s face must have mirrored my own when Blackford told me. Then she blinked and said, “I’m glad Emma will be all right. I know how worried you were.”

“Everything’s fine now.” I’d let Emma tell her about the wedding. It was her news to share. “I have the ledgers as far along as they’re going to get today. I’d better get over to Hereford House. With Griekev and Ivanov on the loose, the princess might still be in danger.”

“Oh, you don’t think so, do you? Why would successful burglars want to attack a foreign princess who doesn’t have a household they can rob? You said yourself they’re not anarchists.”

Something bothered me about what Frances said, but I was too tired to figure it out. I carried the ledgers back into the office to find Charles Dickens had disappeared. When I reemerged, Frances had put up the Open sign and had begun dusting. I put on my hat and gloves, said good-bye, and walked to Hereford House.

The cool rain forced me to hurry, pumping blood to my brain. If I didn’t think about how many hours separated me from my bed, I might make it through the day without bringing shame on myself by collapsing.

I entered the front hall to find the servants busy giving the area an extra-good cleaning. “What’s going on?” I asked the butler.

“Grand Duke Vassily is coming for a private luncheon with Princess Kira, the dukes of Sussex and Blackford, and Her Grace. Then the Russian ambassador and his lady were added. We are having something of a state occasion.”

I wished him good luck and went into the back hall to take off my hat and gloves. I had just set them down on the empty table when Amelia Whitten came breathlessly in the back door, pulling a hat pin out of her hair. “Gracious. Where have you been?” I asked.

“I don’t answer to you,” she snapped and set down her things. Then she opened the secret doorway in the hall and disappeared up the steps.

Grand Duke Vassily was arriving on a surprise visit to Hereford House today and Miss Whitten had disappeared on an errand without Lady Daisy. I wondered where I could find the three Russians I found suspicious.

I stopped dead in the hallway as I realized all four possible accomplices of the burglars in the Duchess of Hereford’s house were women. Griekev had been meeting with a woman just before Emma was taken prisoner. A woman who seemed to be his partner. Or his boss.

While it didn’t make sense that Princess Kira would be behind attacks on herself, the attacks had been against Lidijik the guard and Lady Raminoff the chaperone, not Princess Kira. I didn’t know what she could gain by their deaths, but I knew I needed to find out.

I raced up the secret staircase, but instead of entering the nursery, I headed for Princess Kira’s room. She looked up when I entered.

She greeted me with, “You should knock.”

“Where is Mila?”

Princess Kira waved a hand in the air. “She went out to get a new ribbon for my dress. She burned the other one with an iron this morning, clumsy girl. When we get back to St. Petersburg, I will dismiss her.”

“And Nadia?”

“She had a meeting with Grand Duke Vassily this morning at the embassy. I don’t know what good that will do,” she added with a sniff, turning partially away from me.

“Did you two quarrel?”

“Of course not. I’m on her side. I told her that when we get back to St. Petersburg, I’ll ask the tsar to give her the honors she deserves.”

I began to think the princess lived in a fairy tale where she had more influence than she did in reality. “Did you ever think she might not go back to St. Petersburg? Not even to be proclaimed a princess?”

She opened her mouth but then shut it without making a sound. Frowning, she rose and walked over to look out the window.

“Have an enjoyable luncheon,” I said and left the room. Once again avoiding the front staircase, I went in search of Mary, who was now in place as Nadia’s lady’s maid. I found her in the basement, mending a gown of Nadia’s. I glanced around to make sure none of the other servants were within listening distance. “What time did Nadia leave this morning?”

“As soon as she and the princess finished breakfast.”

“How did she seem?”

“Seem, miss?”

“Was she in a good mood? Is she invited to the luncheon today?”

After a moment, she shook her head. “No. Mila told me Nadia wouldn’t be invited because the Russians don’t want her there. And when the princess said she had to get ready for the grand duke’s luncheon, Miss Nadia said she was speaking to the grand duke this morning. Then she added that she didn’t expect to be invited to the luncheon after this meeting. I got the impression she didn’t think her talk with the Russian gentleman would go well.”

“They were speaking English in front of you?” Apparently neither of them cared if they were overheard by the servants.

“Yes. I don’t think they consider Mila or me important enough to worry about whether we could hear them.”

“Did they argue?”

“No, miss. The princess said it was just Russian stubbornness and Nadia’s standing doesn’t matter in England, and Miss Nadia said it matters everywhere. She put on her hat and gloves and left a few minutes later. She hasn’t returned, or she would have called for me.”

“And the maid, Mila?”

“I don’t know if she’s come back yet. She would have left from the servants’ entrance to get a replacement for the ribbon she burned. You could ask the housekeeper if she’s seen either Mila or Miss Nadia.”

“I will. Thank you. And let me know as soon as Nadia returns.”

I found the housekeeper dealing with the linens in the tiny closet just behind the butler’s pantry. “I don’t have time to worry about the back door today,” she told me. “Not with a last-minute luncheon on top of the formal dinner we’re hosting.”

“Last minute?”

“This morning the princess decided she wants to discuss some details of her marriage to the duke with the Russian ambassador and the tsar’s uncle, who’s in town. She begged Her Grace to host this luncheon, and Her Grace, being the kind woman she is, said yes. And then apologized for the extra work she’s put on us.”

“She is a nice woman,” I agreed.

“Yes. And she let me know we won’t have to put up with much more of this. Apparently Grand Duke Vassily will take the Russians home with him in a few days. We all say ‘amen’ to that.”

The princess would be leaving in a few days. If anyone wanted to kill her in England, they’d have to hurry. And three possible links to Griekev and Ivanov had all gone out this morning after this luncheon was planned.

I felt like I had been thrown upside down into a Russian snowdrift.

Hurrying out the back door, I dashed across the back garden to the coach house and cornered the first footman I saw. “Did you see the Russian maid Mila go through here this morning?”

“Yes. She went out almost an hour ago. Haven’t seen her come back.”

“And Miss Whitten, Lady Daisy’s tutor?”

“She went out and came back already.”

“Was she carrying anything?”

“Not her, no. The maid was, though. She carried out a bundle with her.”

“And have you seen anything of the princess’s sister, Nadia?”

“Not either of the Russian ladies. Not today.”

“Have they gone out this way recently?”

“They’ve sneaked out together a few times and asked us not to tell Her Grace. We figured she has enough to worry about, and you never can tell what the quality wants to hear from us. Or even what we’re supposed to notice.”

“Where did they go?”

“A couple of times, they had us give them a ride to church. One of them funny Russian churches. Not a proper English one.”

“Is that where the Russian maid keeps going?”

“Not her. She’s smuggling food out. I’ve seen her give a bundle to a raggedy-looking boy a couple of blocks away. I was on my way to a public house on my afternoon out, so I had time to linger. The boy opened it partway right there on the street and, as I knew who she was, I watched. Part of a loaf of bread and some ham, as well as I could see.”

The groom squared his shoulders. “I told the butler about that. Wasn’t right, stealing from Her Grace. She’s a right generous lady, is Her Grace. Ain’t right taking advantage of her like that.”

I thanked the groom and went back into the house. I headed straight for the nursery, where I found Miss Whitten and Lady Daisy playing a counting game. “We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t.” The tutor turned her back on me.

“You can either talk to me or talk to the authorities. Your choice.”

Amelia Whitten frowned and pursed her lips together. After a moment, she said, “Lady Daisy, would you go find your nursery maid and stay with her until I call you?”

“May Millie play our game?”

“Of course. You may teach it to her.”

The girl ran off, blond hair flying behind her.

Amelia Whitten swung around to face me, her fists on her hips. “Now, what is it you want to say to me?”

“Someone in this household has been helping Ivanov on his mission against Princess Kira. You are one of those suspected.”

“I’ve had nothing to do with him. I wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him.” The shudder that crossed her face couldn’t have been faked.

“Why did you slip out of here this morning after coming to work?”

“That is none of your business.”

“You won’t be able to give the police that answer.”

“Fine. You aren’t the police.”

“But she is working under my direction, and I am your employer, Miss Whitten. Please answer her question.” The duchess stood in the doorway to the nursery, her arms folded over her stomach.

We both curtsied.

“I’d rather not answer, Your Grace.”

“Then I have no choice but to fire you without a reference. You may be the one bringing danger to my household, and I can’t risk the life of my daughter on what you’d rather not do.”

Fire rose in Miss Whitten’s eyes. “You’ll fire me anyway. At least this way I can keep my dignity.”

“Your dignity?” I asked. “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important to rule you out as the danger. What’s wrong?”

She slumped down onto a stool. “I have a little boy. He’s nearly three. My mother keeps him for me. She’s been ill lately, and I’ve been going round to check on the two of them.”

I faced the duchess. “I’d like to verify this if Your Grace doesn’t mind.”

She nodded, and I turned to the governess. “Let’s go over there, if your mother doesn’t mind visitors. You can tell them I’m a friend come to call if you’d like.”

“Miss Whitten,” the duchess said, “if this bears out, there will be no more talk of your leaving.” She left the room in the direction from where we could hear Lady Daisy’s laughter.

We went downstairs, put on our hats and gloves, and headed out the back door. “It’s shorter this way,” she told me.

We caught an omnibus and rode it perhaps a mile to an area of small homes and shops. Smaller and older than the ones in my neighborhood, the buildings’ brick walls were dark with soot. Papers and leaves in the rain-soaked gutters gave it a neglected air. Miss Whitten stopped in front of a narrow house in the middle of the block and let us in with her key.

Inside was even darker and more neglected looking than outside. There was a threadbare rug on the entry floor and, through the open parlor door, I saw once-expensive furniture now worn and faded. “Is that you, Amelia?” a woman’s voice called from the room.

“Yes, Miss Mary.” Miss Whitten led the way into the room.

I followed her to find a little boy on the floor, playing with some wooden blocks and tin soldiers, while an old lady watched him and darned a stocking.

The boy jumped up and ran over to hug Amelia Whitten around the knees. “Mama.”

The room was cool, but the draperies were thrown open to let in the watery light of the dreary day, along with the sounds of traffic in the road. Amelia bent down to pick up the boy and tweaked his nose. He appeared clean, well nourished, and well behaved.

“This is my son, Andrew, and this is Miss Mary Harper.”

“I’m a boarder here,” the old woman told me, as if that answered all my questions. “I’m watching Andrew while Agatha rests. Her cough seems worse, Amelia. You might want to check on her.”

“You play,” Amelia said to the squirming toddler as she put him down. “I’m going to check on Gram.”

She left the room and Mary Harper said, “Sit down and bring me news of the outside world.”

Never good at starting a conversation when all I wanted to do was sleep, I said, “Autumn is settling in. Before we know it, it’ll be Christmas season.” Not brilliant, but at least I sounded coherent.

“Do you work for the Duchess of Hereford like Amelia does?”

“Yes. I’m her secretary. Hers and the Princess Kira, who’s visiting from Russia to meet her intended, the Duke of Sussex.” Well, she wanted news. I might as well give her the long version since I’d be waiting a few minutes for Miss Whitten.

“You get to see all sorts of important people.”

“I do. Do you get to watch Andrew often?”

“I have lately, with Agatha being so ill.”

“Are you family?”

“I have no family. Just a small income and a need to live somewhere. They’ve welcomed me in, and we’ve found we suit each other quite well.”

“Are you the only boarder?”

“No. There’s Miss Dawson, a clerk in a shop. She’ll be here in time for dinner.”

I glanced around. “Has the house been in the Whitten family for a long time?”

“I believe Amelia grew up here.”

Andrew came over and showed me one of his tin soldiers before running back to continue his game. It made no sense to me, but I’d not spent much time with children. It appeared to make perfect sense to Andrew.

“He’s such a joy,” Mary Harper said quietly so the boy wouldn’t hear her.

“Who’s his father?” I asked.

“A young scholar who made an advantageous match and left Amelia in the dust. He denies all responsibility.”

“Coward.”

Mary Harper nodded. “Exactly. But that doesn’t help Amelia. She’s the one to face ostracism and loss of her employment.”

“I don’t think the duchess will do that. She’s already said she won’t hear of Amelia leaving.”

Mary Harper turned a sharp gaze at me out of faded blue eyes. “Does she know about the boy?”

“She does now.”

“She sounds like a good one, your duchess.”

“She is, but she’s hardly my duchess.”

Amelia came downstairs and said, “My mother seems to be resting quieter now. I’d better get back.” She walked over and ruffled the boy’s fair hair.

“We’ll be fine here,” Mary Harper said.

“I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart,” Amelia told her son.

He grinned up at her. “’Bye, Mama.”

We started back the way we’d come, Amelia keeping still as we traveled. Finally I couldn’t bear the silence any longer. “You have a lovely child.”

“Thank you.”

“It can’t be easy.”

“It isn’t. And now with my mother being so sick—”

“What ails her?”

“Lung disease, influenza, her heart. We’re not sure.”

“She hasn’t seen a doctor?”

“Doctors cost money. Money we don’t have.”

“Your father didn’t leave you much?”

“He died young and left us nothing but debts.”

On that gloomy note, we continued in silence to Hereford House. After we took off our wet outerwear, I followed Amelia upstairs and left her in the nursery while I went in search of Mila, Nadia, and the princess. I found the maid fixing Princess Kira’s hair in curls.

“When you get done there, I need to speak to you, Mila.” At least Mila spoke English.

“Once the princess is ready to go downstairs for the luncheon.”

“Of course.” I sat down on a side chair, its seat upholstered in a blue-patterned fabric. “Has Nadia returned from her appointment at the embassy?”

“Not yet. She’s upset at being excluded from today’s luncheon.” A bright smile crossed the princess’s face. “I’m going to ask to have her in my wedding party. The ambassador and Cousin Vassily are going to yell and threaten.”

Clearly she was looking forward to the uproar she’d cause.

I shook my head. “What would Lady Raminoff have said?”

“She’d be against it, of course. She says Nadia can be anything she wants here in England, but she can’t be a princess when the royal family is around. Lady Raminoff was on Nadia’s side as long as the Romanovs weren’t being embarrassed.”

“Nadia didn’t think so?”

“Nadia thinks that people either want her to be a princess or are against her.”

“That must make her hard to get along with.”

“No. Nadia is so full of life. She’s not afraid of anything. It makes her fun to be around.” Princess Kira gave me a smile that made her eyes glitter with mirth.

“If she weren’t afraid of anything, she wouldn’t have run when her mother died.” Aggravating the princess seemed to get me more answers than if I were respectful.

“Her mother was killed, and those same men tried to kill her, too. But she hid until she could escape to England. She’s so clever,” Princess Kira said, pride and defiance filling her voice.

“You are ready, Princess.” Mila stepped back and lowered her head.

The princess, dressed in more jewels than an Englishwoman would feel was proper for luncheon, left the room. I shut the door behind her and turned to Mila. “Now, why are you stealing food?” I asked.

In a burst of speed, the lady’s maid dashed past me, threw open the door, and ran down the secret staircase.