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

  ‘I say Henry, what time is it?’ Henry consulted his timepiece. ‘Still early old chap, only 2pm. I have to say Charles it was damn tame offerings at Watiers tonight, the stakes were not very high. Glad we left when we did but what shall we do now?’

  The man called Charles deliberated for a bit. ‘Ball of fire, that is what we need Charles, a ball of fire. What do you say that we knock old George up; he keeps damned fine brandy in his cellars, doubt he’s paid tax on a drop of it.’

  ‘Jolly good notion Charles,’ Henry replied chuckling gaily.

  It was at that moment they noticed Felicity trapped in the great arms of her assailant. Felicity, who had listened expectantly, sagged with disappointment as they rounded the corner. One of the gentlemen was round and portly and clearly in his altitudes and the other was of medium height, very slim and appeared to be in no better a state. She doubted she would get any help from this quarter. The footpad grinned, he was obviously of the same opinion and who could blame him, for he was a giant of a man and certainly a lot younger than the two unfortunate gentlemen who had stumbled upon them. Moreover, the two inebriated gentleman appeared not to understand the situation.

  ‘I think we have chanced upon a mill Henry.’ Charles raised his nose in the air and sniffed. There was a distinct pungent aroma of daffy and something else; Charles could not quite describe it but it was certainly acridly pungent. He raised his quizzing glass to survey the scene. ‘This is no mill old chap.’ He poked Felicity’s assailant in the hip with his cane. ‘That gentleman there is a footpad, I would swear it.’

  Henry gazed through his alcohol-induced stupor as if he had just received a revelation. ‘By George, Charles I think you may be right.’

  Henry gazed at Felicity. ‘Say young man, are you in need of assistance?’

  Felicity still locked in the footpads vice like grip nodded her head vigorously but the rogue just laughed. Henry turned to the footpad. ‘I say you scoundrel, unhand that young man. What kind of coward are you anyway? Why you don’t pick on someone your own size?’

  The footpad just gave them a languid wave of the hand. ‘This here, you old fools, is no cove, and I would suggest you both mosey on your way and be mindin yer own business if yer divna want yer cork drawn.’

  Henry looked at his friend. ‘Did you hear that Charles, this ruffian called you an old fool.’

  ‘Called me an old fool did he? Do you know Henry I am not sure if that was a compliment. I don’t think I like being called an old fool.’

  With one swift movement that belied his age and his inebriated state, Charles raised his cane and pressed a lever to reveal a large deadly blade. Before the footpad knew what he was about, Charles adroitly thrust the blade into the footpad’s upper thigh. He gave a shriek of pain bringing his hand down to his leg to support himself and released Felicity in the process. Felicity ran to stand behind her rescuers before the assailant regained his senses. Blood was seeping through his coarse breeches and was slowly dripping down his leg. The footpad glared daggers at Charles who held him at bay with the length of his cane, sullied with blood but still glinting ominously in the moonlight. Badly injured, with blood dripping heavily on the pavement and no longer having control of the situation, the footpad cursed and spat, and then deciding to cut his losses, he limped off down the street.

  ‘Good riddance to him I say,’ muttered Henry as he turned to Felicity.

  Felicity by this time had retrieved her scarf and hat and put them back on, quickly tucking her hair into the confines of her hat. She only tied the scarf loosely around her lower face as she had no desire to be rude.

  ‘I say young men are you alright?’ Charles asked with a jovial air. Felicity replied in deep tones. ‘I think so sir. I must thank you for your kind intervention.’

  Henry patted her hard on the back nearly knocking her over. ‘No problem young man, think nothing of it. I think after such an experience you must be in need of a drink. We are off to George’s house for a brandy would you care to join us? The more the merrier I say.’

  Felicity bowed. ‘No, no thank you sir,’ she spluttered and not daring to say anymore in case she gave herself away, she ran off down the street as fast as her legs would take her.

  ‘Well I say,’ George remarked as his eyes followed her. ‘The young men today, running off like that! Didn’t even tell us his name.’

  Charles frowned as he watched Felicity enter into a house at the far end of the street. ‘I say Henry I do not think that was a young man. I think that was a Lady.’

  ‘A Lady! Nonsense, what would a Lady be doing on the streets this time of night unescorted?’

  Charles shook his head. ‘I do not know old chap, but I am telling you that was a gel.’

  Henry scratched his head as if trying to think. ‘He was wearing breaches wasn’t he?’

  ‘Yes but...’

  ‘Then he must have been a lad,’ Henry concluded. ‘Stands to reason.’

  ‘But did you see those curls peeking out from under that hat?’ Charles argued.

  ‘Well he must have been a pretty lad then, don’t be such a nodcock Charles, it could not possibly have been a gel. What respectable gel would be out on her own in the streets this time of night?’

  ‘Charles shook his head. ‘You know Henry I am sorry but I must be more foxed than I thought.’

  ‘Well boy or gel, the fellow just lives down the street so he could at least have invited us in for a brandy.’

  ‘Don’t be too hard on the young sprig old chap. He must have had a shock. That footpad was a big brute of a fellow. He scared me, I can tell you. Tell you what, did you notice which house the young cawker went into? We should pay him a visit tomorrow to see how he is. Young devil probably should not even have been out, he only looked about fifteen.’

  ‘Good idea Henry, and meanwhile we can still knock George up for that ball of fire. Boy I need it more than ever after that.’

  Henry grimaced. ‘Got a feeling he might tell us to go to the devil this time of night.’

  ‘Goodness no! It is only a quarter past two, still early yet old chap,’ Charles quipped and at that, the two friends linked arms and sauntered off down the street.

  ******

  On reaching home and entering the hallway, Felicity almost collapsed with relief. She had always yearned for adventure but certainly not an adventure of this sort. Still she needed to reach the safety of her own room. It would not do for Richard to return home to find her loitering in the hallway dressed in Harry’s clothes. She reached into the jacket pocket; thank goodness, the necklace was still there. The footpad had been so surprised with the discovery that a female was wrestling in his grip; that he had forgot almost everything else. It was a good thing that Charles and Henry had arrived on the scene when they did. If Felicity had lost the necklace it would have been a disaster and it did not escape her that, it was not all that could have been lost this night. She had a very lucky escape indeed.

  Felicity crept to her room without incidence, took the black velvet pouch containing the necklace out of her pocket and placed in carefully in a small secret recess in her bedside table. She could not wait to tell Emily that she had retrieved her family heirloom and that she could rest and be happy again. She would pay her a visit tomorrow. Felicity undressed and hid Harry’s clothes under her bed until she had time to return them to his wardrobe. She regretted having lost one of his gloves but hopefully he would not miss them when he returned home.

  Only two streets away in Green Street, Alex Sheraton stepped from the balcony back into his bedchamber. He looked around and everything seemed to be in order. He had caught the intruder standing next to the dresser and he certainly did not look as if he had had any time to take anything. He had not carried a bag and he did not appear to have anything stashed on his person.

  Thorndale walked over to the dresser and opened the drawer where he had thrown his winnings from the previous evening; to his relief they were still there. He reached into his pocket
s to remove this evening’s spoils so that he could place it with the rest. He picked up the bundle, added his winnings and was just about to throw it back, when he noticed that something was wrong. The little black velvet pouch containing the Stansfield necklace was missing. Thorndale put his hand towards the back of the drawer to check if the pouch had been jostled to the rear but found nothing. He knew he should have put it in the safe the night before, but when he had arrived home, he had been tired and just placed it into the drawer beside the bundle of cash. The realisation came to him and he stood furious. It was gone. The Stansfield necklace was gone. The Duke of Stansfield would be furious and if there was one person for whom he held a great respect, it was his father.

  Thorndale stood there mystified. What kind of thief would steal a necklace but leave nearly £2000 in cash just lying in a roll. He was mystified and it only served to strengthen his suspicion that this was no ordinary thief. He cursed and made a resolve to ensure that no stone was left unturned in bringing the fellow to book.

  ******

  Felicity arose late the following morning. Despite the excitement of the night before, she had slept well. She could only put it down to nervous exhaustion. With the assistance of Sarah, she dressed and made her way to the drawing room where she found her mother putting the finishing touches to a beautiful embroidered cushion cover and admiring her handiwork.

  The Countess looked up as she entered the room. ‘So there you are Felicity. I was just about to send out a search party for you. I need to go to Madam Fournier’s for the final fitting for my new ball gown. Would you like to accompany me?’

  Felicity gave her mother an apologetic smile. ‘I would have been happy to mama but I was hoping to pay Emily a morning call.’ Lady Ellingham looked disappointed. ‘But you will see her tonight at Almack’s,’ she replied in the hope that Felicity might change her mind.

  ‘Mama you know perfectly well that Emily has not been able to obtain vouchers for Almack’s so she will not be there.’

  The Countess waved her hand in the air. ‘Well Felicity, if you must go traipsing off to Hans Town so be it, but you know what Richard thinks of that connection and I cannot say that I like it much myself.’

  ‘I know only too well what Richard thinks,’ Felicity retorted and as far as I care he can go to the devil.’

  ‘Really!’ the Countess remonstrated but before she could say anymore, the butler knocked and quietly poked his head around the drawing room door.

  ‘Your Ladyship, two gentlemen have arrived and wish to speak to you, they are waiting downstairs in the reception room.’ The butler stepped forward and presented the Countess with their calling cards. Sophia read them and knitted her brow. ‘Henry Caruthers and Charles Frobisher? I cannot say I have heard of these gentlemen. Did they say what they wanted?’

  ‘They asked to speak to the young master but when I told them his Lordship was not home they asked for his parent instead.’

  ‘Very well Wilson,’ the Countess replied with her usual good nature. ‘Send them up.’

  Felicity listening to this exchange stiffened. The names Charles and Henry could only mean one thing. They were the two gentlemen who had come to her rescue last night. Felicity looked towards the door. It was too late to make a quick retreat so she would just have to make the most of it and hope that they would not recognise her in her skirts.

  Charles and Henry entered the room and the Countess rose to greet them. ‘Good day gentlemen I am sorry the Earl is not here to meet you, he left for Tattersall’s an hour ago, but I am his mother Lady Sophia Ellingham, perhaps I can help you,’ She gestured towards Felicity. ‘This is my daughter Lady Felicity Ellingham, and the Earls sister.’

  Henry and Charles nodded to Felicity in acknowledgement but showed no sign of having recognised her. Felicity relaxed, that had been a close shave. The Countess regained their attention and invited them to take a seat. ‘What can I do for you gentlemen?’

  Charles appeared to be the spokesman. ‘We have called to enquire after the young gentleman to see how he is after his unfortunate encounter with the footpad last night, we were most concerned, he seemed to be in quite a state of shock. Glad we were on hand to assist.’

  The Countess was rather surprised. ‘I do not understand,’ she replied. ‘I had breakfast with Richard this morning and he mentioned nothing of footpads. I think he would have said something.’ The Countess turned to Felicity. ‘Did Richard say anything to you about it?’

  Felicity sat demurely with her hand in her lap and feeling rather guilty but could truthfully reply. ‘No mama, I have not seen Richard this morning.’

  Charles was not to be deterred. ‘Ah Richard, is that the Cawker’s name? That is the way with young men these days; don’t wish to alarm their mamas.’

  Henry moved uncomfortably in his chair and spoke up. ‘I say Charles, are you sure that you have the right house, after all it was dark and you had downed a tipple or two.’

  Charles looked reproachfully at Henry for referring to his inebriated state but replied pleasantly enough. ‘Well I could be wrong but I could have sworn that the young sprig ran into this house.’

  The Countess raised her eyebrows. She was rather puzzled at the gentlemen’s choice of expression for she could hardly imagine her staid son running anywhere in such a hurry and as for calling him a sprig and a cawker; his broad imposing countenance hardly fit the description. Moreover, she had difficulty imagining that Richard would have much trouble seeing off a lone footpad, let alone him needing any assistance from this strangely matched but kindly pair. She gave an indulgent smile. ‘I thank you gentlemen for your kindly offices but I am afraid you must be mistaken, Richard would surely have said something.’

  Charles looked perplexed. ‘Is your son slim, of medium height with blonde hair?’

  ‘He has blonde hair certainly,’ the Countess replied. ‘But he is quite broad and over 6 foot 2 inches.’

  Henry patted is friend on the back. ‘That settles it then Charles; we obviously have the wrong house. We are sorry to have troubled you your Ladyship, we shall take up no more of your valuable time.’

  The Countess smiled. ‘No need to apologise gentlemen, can I offer you a drink before you leave, perhaps a cup of tea.’ Henry having his mind on something a bit stronger than tea declined and stood up to leave. Felicity remembering their propensity for brandy interrupted. ‘Perhaps Mr Caruthers and Mr Frobisher would prefer a brandy. Accept it as our way of thanking you for your neighbourly concern.’ Henry sat down again, ‘Well if you put it that way Miss, how could we refuse?’

  Felicity smiled to herself and went to the occasional table. She poured them both a brandy and although it was still early, poured a ratafia for both her mother and herself.

  The Countess was quite happy to oblige and then she bethought herself of something. ‘There is a young man two doors down of the description you have given us, young James Eggleston.’ She turned to her daughter. ‘Do you think Felicity, that it could be young James they are seeking?’

  Felicity almost chocked on her ratafia. The last thing she wanted was to get young James Eggleston into trouble over something that was entirely her doing. ‘But mama, he is only 16 what would he be doing out late at night on his own. His mother would have an apoplexy.’

  The Countess agreed. ‘Yes and if it was young James he deserves a flogging. ’

  Felicity looked imploringly at the two gentlemen. ‘Pray gentlemen do not get poor James into trouble. His mother would ground him and deprive him of his allowance for a week at the very least. It would just be too bad for he has already been sent down from University for a month for getting up to mischief.’

  Charles looked at Henry. ‘Well I am sure the young whipper snapper will be just fine and far being it, for us to be instrumental in clipping his wings any more. Besides I think he would have well learned his lesson last night.’

  Charles and Henry finished their brandy and took their leave, having agreed to leave young Jame
s with his secret. Felicity closed the door behind them and leaned against it with a huge sigh. Thank goodness for that, she would have never forgiven herself if James landed in a whole lot of hot water on her account.

  Henry and George, their insides warmed through with brandy, walked arm in arm down the street. Henry turned to Charles. ‘Never mind old chap. I am sure that young sprig is all right. Now what did you think of the young Miss Felicity? Diamond of first water eh Charles. You know I am not so sure that I have not seen her somewhere before.’

  Charles turned and grinned at his friend. ‘Probably have old chap, at one of the assembly rooms or some such place. A beauty though I must say, ah Henry if only we were 30 years younger.’

  Chapter 4

  Felicity is indiscreet

  Lady Sophia Ellingham returned from her trip to Madam Fournier with her mission accomplished, which was more than could be said of Felicity’s wasted afternoon. She had taken the carriage to Hans Town to pay Emily a morning visit only to find that she was not at home. Felicity was most perplexed; she had not been able to get an answer at the door. She knew that Emily’s uncle did not employ a butler but surely, a maid should have answered. Felicity came away disappointed, she would have to wait to return Emily’s necklace but it irked her to have such a valuable piece in her possession for any longer than was necessary. Felicity resolved to try again tomorrow and if she could not find her at home then she would surely meet her at the assembly rooms one evening.

  That evening Felicity sat down to an early dinner with Richard and her mother as they were all due to attend Almack’s later. Felicity was tired, probably from her adventures of the night before, and expressed the desire of staying at home. The Countess, who was attacking a breast of chicken in chasseur sauce looked up from her plate and said disapprovingly. ‘Felicity I have not gone to the effort of procuring vouchers for the season and lashing out ten guineas in the process, just for you not to attend. You know it is the place to be seen if you wish to meet someone. Do you not want to see yourself suitably established?’