Lady Ellingham and the Theft of the Stansfield Necklace: A Regency Romance Read online

  Richard gave a sardonic smile. ‘Quite,’ he said. ‘Up to now he has confined his interests to women in certain circles, but still I would not trust him. You are to keep away from him Felicity. I am putting my foot down this time and that is all I intend to say on the matter.’

  ‘Well you have no reason to worry Richard. I have not even met the man. I doubt he even knows that I exist.’

  ‘Good.’ Richard replied vehemently. ‘Then keep it that way!’

  Felicity glowered at her brother getting herself into a temper over his rare display of firmness. ‘And pray what am I supposed to do if the man asks me to dance, should I be rude to him?’

  ‘There is no need to be rude Felicity,’ he retorted. ‘You should just smile, thank him and tell him that your dance card is full.’

  ‘I must say Richard,’ remarked the Countess. ‘You seem to know the gentleman remarkably well for all of your protestations to avoid him.’

  Richard bowed his head to his mother. ‘I know him well enough and so I am well able to advise you. He moves in similar circles but is not part of my set. You can find him most nights in the clubs up until the small hours in the morning. I have met him on many occasions at the card tables and I have sparred with him once or twice at Jackson’s salon but other that I have little to do with him.’

  Felicity bristled. ‘So it is alright for you to associate with him but not for me, is that it?’

  ‘That is different Felicity,’ he said defensively. ‘He is not the same danger to men as he is to women. He has done nothing to me that I should have reason to ostracise him but mind you Flick, I have no desire to see you hanging off his arm.’

  The Countess watched as Felicity was about to retort and intervened. ‘Let the matter drop Flick, your brother is in the right of it, Alexander Sheraton is no fit company for you.’

  Felicity bit her lip. She did not intend to encourage the attention of the man but she was not going to oblige her brother by saying so. One thing was for sure. She now knew that she could not rely on Richard to help Emily retrieve her missing Sapphire and Diamond necklace. She would just have to think of something else.

  The Countess intruded on her thoughts. ‘I think a cup of tea is called for,’ she announced as she rang the servants bell. ‘Not for me mother,’ Richard smiled. ‘I am meeting Jeremy Leighton at Manton’s to shoot some wafers, I shall return for supper. Now if you will excuse me I must go and fetch my pistols.’

  He bent over and kissed Felicity on the cheek. ‘I love you big sister despite your stubborn ways so take care of what you are about, for I know you well.’

  Felicity smiled at him. His sensible demeanour and is boorish ways frustrated her immensely but she could not be mad at Richard for long. All the same, in this instance Richard was wrong, very wrong indeed. The Marquis had behaved intolerably and something had to be done.

  Chapter 2

  Felicity pays a Midnight Visit

  After tea, the Countess excused herself to go in search of the housekeeper to discuss next week’s menus. Felicity found herself alone again and picked up her copy of Ambrosio. The exploits of the wicked monk failed to seize her attention for her mind kept wandering to Emily and the dilemma of the stolen necklace. The Marquis’s indefensible behaviour and the injustice of the matter began to take possession her and she stood up and started to pace the floor.

  Felicity was as impulsive as she was beautiful and as the minutes ticked by her brain began to formulate a plan. If she had no one to turn to, she would have to take on the task herself. She knew that Alexander Sheraton lived in Green Street, just two streets away from her own home in Upper Brook Street. Nevertheless, even if she managed to gain entry, where would the Marquis keep a sapphire and diamond necklace? She asked herself, where did her brother keep his valuables? He usually kept them in his office or in his own bedchamber. It made sense that the Marquis would probably do the same. It was not as if she would have to search the whole house. Earlier today her brother had as much as told her that the Marquis spent most nights playing cards at his club and stayed until the early hours of the morning. How hard could it be to climb through a window when he was not at home and steal a necklace back?

  Felicity made a decision. She could at least take a walk around to Green Street and carry out a feasibility study. She called for her maid. ‘Sarah, I have decided to go for a walk, go and get your coat for I wish you to accompany me.’

  Sarah looked dumbstruck. ‘But your Ladyship, it is pouring with rain!’

  ‘Never the less Sarah, a bit of rain never hurt anyone. We can always take our umbrellas.’

  Sarah looked aghast as if her mistress was mad and Felicity silently cursed at the restrictions of London society and the requirement that she needed to take her maid along at all. How she longed to be back at the family countryseat in Richmondshire where she had more freedom and she did not feel the restrictions of her skirts. She hated London and the rigid etiquette of the censorious ton but her mother would insist on dragging her back every season in the hope that she would find herself a husband. She smiled to herself. It is not as if she had not had offers. She had refused two respectable gentlemen already in this the small season. Her brother was beginning to despair but being of the same age and single himself, he understood and would not coerce her into a disagreeable marriage.

  She broke off from her musings and looked at Sarah’s forlorn face. She felt guilty but it was a good time to carry out her mission, for no one would be about in this weather.

  Felicity left the house, walked the length of Upper Brook Street and turned right into Park Lane. If she remembered correctly, Green Street was the second street on the right. Her maid kept pace beside her but was decidedly puzzled at the choice of direction. The usual choice for a walk was surely Hyde Park. Sarah side stepped the puddles and ventured to ask. ‘My Lady, where are we going?’

  Felicity was non-committal. ‘Nowhere in particular. I am sorry Sarah but I am restless and really need some fresh air to clear my head.’

  As they approached the home of the Marquis, Felicity surreptitiously noted the surroundings. There appeared to be no way around the back but there were steps down to the basement level, with its own door and window. The window looked as if it would be easy enough to open with a jemmy. The only problem she could foresee was the possibility that Thorndale’s Valet would be waiting up for his master to return home. She would need to be careful. After an hour walking the streets, Felicity returned home with a baffled maid but at least Felicity’s head was clear. Her decision made, she made preparations for that night for she could not delay too long. The sooner the better before her courage failed her and more importantly, before Thorndale had time to dispose of his ill-gotten spoils.

  Felicity knew she could not venture into the streets alone at night in her skirts so she would have to acquire some men’s clothing. Richard was well over six foot and his clothing would be far too big, besides which, he may just miss something. She decided to raid the wardrobe of her younger brother Harry. He would not miss anything as he was up at Oxford, and when he was not studying, he often stayed with friends. He was only 16 and his clothes would be a better fit. She chose a pair of nankeen breeches, a white linen shirt, a black kerseymere Jacket, a pair of black leather gloves and a black silk scarf to cover her face. The breeches fit well as she and Harry were the same height and Harry had not yet stopped growing. The jacket was a little large on the shoulders as her little brother was looking to grow even broader than Richard but it would have to do. As for the shoes, she would have to wear her own but hopefully no one would notice them in the dark.

  Felicity could not discount the possibility of encountering footpads but she would have to take the risk. It was only a short journey but it would not hurt to take a weapon for protection. She took the small jewel encrusted pistol, which she kept in her dresser and slipped it into the pocket of the jacket together with a jemmy she would need to force the window. All that was now left to do was to
wait for night time to fall.

  It was well after midnight when the house settled and everyone was in bed. Richard had not yet arrived home but she was not concerned about that. He would not be due for another couple of hours and when he did, he would go straight to bed, as was his custom.

  Felicity donned the clothes she had acquired, crept down the stairs and was soon out on to the front street. At least for the moment the rain had ceased. The atmosphere felt eerie but that was because she had never been out on her own after midnight before. She made her way to Green Street without incident and it was not long before she reached her destination.

  She slipped through the Iron Gate and climbed down the stone steps to the basement window. Peering through the glass, she thanked God that the room was empty. All was quiet. Felicity took the jemmy out of her pocket and got to work prising open the window. The catch gave way easily enough and she climbed through the window with an easy grace, into what appeared to be a large kitchen. She crept stealthily across the kitchen and opened the door onto a dark deserted landing. She would have to be careful, as there was still the risk of the valet being awake. Felicity knew that she needed to be on the floor above if she was to find the Marquis’s study. The layout of the house was smaller but not so different from her home in Upper Brook Street.

  At last, she was on the ground floor with rooms opening off from the hall. She started to open doors. The first door led to the dining room and the second door was just a cupboard. It was third time lucky as she opened a large oak door to find herself in Thorndale’s study. It was dark but she could not afford to light a candle. She would just have to make do with the dim glow of the light from the moon shining through the window. She thanked god that she had a brief reprieve from the heavy rainclouds. She began systematically to look through the drawers and cupboards, taking care to leave things as she found them. After twenty minutes she gave up, she was not going to find the necklace here.

  As Felicity was rifling through the study, Alex Sheraton was leaving Whites Club in St James Street. It was a damp and crisp night and miracle of miracles it was not raining. He decided to walk home with his winnings carefully stowed in his pockets. People said that he had the devils own luck with cards but the truth was, that he was just astute and knew when to stop. He certainly never dipped too deep at the card tables or played when in his cups. Many a Jonny raw had lost a fortune that way and being no greenhorn he had decided to call it a night.

  Young Lealholme had held the bank tonight. He was just a young man but Thorndale had respect for Lord Richard Ellingham and as he recalled, he had a damned lovely sister, a diamond of the first water as he recollected. He had never approached the chit, he would certainly have to remedy that, he thought to himself as he sauntered along and turned into Berkeley Square. Lately he had had other things on his mind, not least the problem of Emily Entwhistle, but now that he had dealt with that matter to his satisfaction, he intended to focus his attention on the lovely Lady Felicity Ellingham.

  Thorndale had now reached Grosvenor Street and he would soon be home. He was certainly not foxed but he had to admit that on the equivalent of a bottle of wine and two brandies, he had certainly drank enough to affect his judgement and when he had made a mistake on his last hand, he decided to call in the chips and return home. As he made his way to Green Street, Felicity could not be aware of the danger she was in.

  She slowly eased her way back into the hall. There was nothing else to do but to ascend the stairs to the upper floors in search of the Marquis’s bedchamber. She reasoned that he would choose one of the larger rooms at the front of the house and it did not take her long to find it. She thanked God that his Valet must have decided to go to bed for the house was silent.

  She entered the bedchamber and closed the door. The room was eerily masculine with the scent of mixed spice, polish and leather. She padded across to the window, opened it and looked out. The window opened out onto a small balcony and just beneath it and to the right, was the canopy over the front door. She tried to memorise her surroundings in case she needed to make a quick exit. On all accounts, he would not be home before three in the morning but it would not hurt to take precautions.

  She started again to make a systematic search and after ten minutes, she found the necklace. It was nestled on top of a large bundle of cash and was encased in a black velvet pouch in the dresser. ‘Got you,’ she whispered triumphantly to herself. ‘He does have it, I knew Richard was wrong.’ As she slipped the necklace into her pocket, she heard a noise as the bedchamber door swung open. Felicity twisted around to see the tall, dark figure of the Marquis of Thorndale standing ominously in the doorframe, with lit candelabra in hand and staring at her with fury in his eyes.

  It was too late, he had seen her and she had no time to run to the window. If she ran now he would easily catch her before she had time to slip through. As Thorndale stepped forward to grab her, she suddenly remembered the small pistol in her pocket and levelled it at him. ‘Stay where you are,’ she demanded as gruffly as she could. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of the pistol and placed the candelabra slowly and deliberately on an occasional table, quickly summing up the situation and planning his move.

  The split second gave her time to retreat to the window. Felicity quickly slipped though, pocketing the pistol as she nimbly swung to the right and out over the balcony. She was just about to slide down onto the canopy over the front door when she felt an iron like grip on the wrist of her right hand. She felt herself being slowly hauled up. What was she to do? Frantically she grabbed the jemmy out of the pocket with her left hand and brought it down as hard as she could on Thorndale’s knuckles. He winced with pain but he did not let go. She looked up into dark eyes blazing with anger and his face was so near, she could smell the pungent aroma of brandy on his breath. He could see the whites of her terrified eyes, with irises violet blue in the moonlight, but blast the boy, his face was wrapped in a large black scarf and hiding the rest of his features.

  No matter, he would find out soon enough who had dared to enter his home and attempt to rob him as soon as he had hauled him up. Felicity was undone, then all of a sudden, she felt the black leather glove sliding slowly down her wrist, and as if by a miracle, she was free and dropped down onto the canopy. Alex Sheraton stood there exasperated, peering over the balcony with the leather glove in hand, as she disappeared over the side and dropped silently down onto the street; but not before, he saw the large unsightly scar that adorned the underside of her right wrist.

  Thorndale poised to give chase but stopped himself. It was obvious that the lad had not had time to take anything. Never the less he cursed; the rogue would not have gotten away so easily if he had been totally sober. He made a note however, to keep his eyes open for a young gentleman with violet blue eyes and a tell tale scar on the underside of his right wrist.

  It was clear that the lad was no normal thief. His jacket was of the finest kerseymere and the scarf that wrapped his face was of the finest silk. He examined the glove in his hand; it was crafted in best quality black leather and no doubt purchased in Bond Street itself. No this young man was a member of the quality, but what he was doing in his apartment trying to rob him, was a most perplexing conundrum. He almost regretted his decision not to give chase, if only to satisfy his curiosity. The Marquis, a renowned Corinthian and keen sportsman would no doubt have caught him. Ah well in was too late to have regrets and be hopping over the balcony now, the lad would be long gone.

  Chapter 3

  Felicity’s Altercation with a Footpad

  Felicity did not stop running until she reached the end of Green Street. She looked around for her pursuer but was amazed to discover that the street was deserted. Thank goodness! Thorndale had decided not to give chase. She almost collapsed on the pavement with relief but it would do no good to linger. She turned into Park Street and lapsed into a quick walking pace. All she wanted to do now was to get to the safety of her own home.

  Fel
icity had just turned into Upper Brook Street when a large dark figure suddenly jumped out of the shadow of a doorway and grabbed her from behind. She felt a vice like arm fasten around her neck and press hard against her throat and something sharp digging into her side. ‘Well me lad, just do as yer telt and hand over the baubles and yer winnit get hurt.’ The voice was aggressive, guttural and unrefined and Felicity had no doubt that she had fallen into the hands of a footpad.

  Felicity struggled to free herself, forcing her elbows as hard as she could into his ribs. In his shock, her assailant relaxed his grip just enough for Felicity to turn around but she could not quite free herself. She found herself facing a giant of a man with a pocked marked face and blackened teeth. ‘Slippery little bugger aren’t yer,’ he grinned as she struggled some more. ‘Why don’t you just make it easy on yersel and hand over the blunt and I’ll be on me way. That way yer won’t be gettin hurt.’

  ‘Let me loose you worm!’ she gasped trying to free herself from his grip. She could not even reach into her pocket for her pistol for her arms were pinned to her sides. ‘I have no money!’ she cried.

  ‘What the...’ The man stared at her in surprise and ripped the black silk scarf from off her face. ‘Well, well, well, what have we here, a wench?’ He continued to knock the hat off her head, her long golden hair escaping its confines. She had tied the tresses harshly back in a band but some unruly blonde curls had broken free.

  The man gave a lopsided, sickly grin and Felicity froze in horror as he discovered her secret. ‘Well seeing as yer ave no blunt, mebbies yer might ave somethin else I might like,’ he leered. He bent over her to kiss her but she averted her face and his lips brushed passed her ear. She nearly retched with disgust. He stank like the gutter and his breath reeked of daffy. Just at that moment, they heard voices in the distance, faint at first but they were getting louder. Her assailant raised his head to listen, obviously reluctant to relinquish his unexpected and most welcome prize. The conversation became distinguishable as two gentlemen walked toward the end of Park Street and into Upper Brook Street.