“That’s the best part,” Ellen said. “They both have similar, curly hair—much the same length, too.”
Drake leaned forward to look past Ellen at Christopher. “Do you think the gypsy will help us?”
Toby waved his fork. “They’re already helping us quite significantly with our watch on Goffard Hall.”
Christopher nodded. “If we present the role to Aaron in the right way, he’ll almost certainly seize the chance—he was always one for a lark.”
They discussed how best to approach Aaron and the other preparations they needed to make to ensure the meeting in the woods at midnight went the way they wanted.
In the end, it was agreed that Christopher, Ellen, and Drake would visit the gypsies and use their persuasive skills to convince Aaron to impersonate Hardcastle. Meanwhile, Toby would speak with Hardcastle himself to ascertain the relevant details for the meeting—namely, how many lace packets Hardcastle was expecting to be paid for, what he usually wore, and what route he followed from the inn to the woods.
Louisa undertook to assemble the package their “Hardcastle” would place in the lady’s hands. They agreed there was no reason to use all the counterfeit notes; instead, several fake notes would be placed on both sides of the four bundles of “notes” Ellen and Louisa had assembled to replicate the stacks of counterfeit notes that had made up Hardcastle’s original package. “Just in case,” Louisa said, “the lady thinks to peek inside and check. And later, we might wish to show her what’s in the package to stress the seriousness of her situation.”
Everyone being in agreement, they pushed back from the table, rose, and dispersed upon their assigned tasks.
To call on the gypsies, Christopher drove himself and Ellen in his curricle, while Drake rode Gregory’s horse; Granger had said the beast was eating its head off and needed the exercise. Not that the gypsy encampment was all that far away, but Christopher and Drake both felt that Drake arriving in style—on horseback rather than crammed into the curricle—would be preferable.
According to Toby’s schedule of watchers, Aaron would be at the camp that day. Christopher tooled the curricle into the meadow and drew up by the fence above the dip where the circle of wagons stood. He and Ellen climbed down, and Drake halted the horse, dismounted, and tied the beast alongside Christopher’s team.
Together, they walked down the meadow toward the wagons—and the gaggle of children came swarming, as they had before. The children recognized Christopher and Ellen and called hellos, while once again, the oldest girl went running toward the lead wagon.
Drake watched, amused, as the children surrounded Ellen, intrigued again by the ribbons, bows, and lace that adorned her walking dress of purply-mauve twill.
Entirely seriously, one round-eyed urchin informed her, “You have a lot of ribbons.”
Much as if such a number bordered on an affliction.
Ellen smiled. “My aunt buys them for me.”
The children’s lips formed “Ohs” of enlightenment, then they reached the campsite enclosed by the wagons and saw Gracella, followed by Aaron, walking toward them. Gracella waved a hand, and the children dispersed, slipping away between the wagons and heading for the stream.
Christopher, Ellen, and Drake halted, as did Gracella. She nodded to Christopher, smiled at Ellen, then looked assessingly at Drake. “You,” she stated, “I have not met before.”
Drake bowed. “I’m Winchelsea, Mrs. Codona. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Gracella’s eyes narrowed. After a moment of staring at Drake, she said, “Winchelsea. You are the son of…” Without taking her eyes from Drake, she tipped her head toward Aaron and demanded, “What is that other one’s name?”
“Wolverstone.” Aaron’s dark gaze was fixed on Drake. “From Northumbria. The Boswells’ territory.”
Drake’s lips twitched, and he inclined his head to both Aaron and Gracella. “You’re well-informed. I know Harry Boswell and his band—they camp on my family’s lands.”
“Humph!” Gracella folded her arms. “It is summer. Why aren’t you there, in the north?”
Drake’s smile deepened, sincerely charming. “Would that I could be, but sadly, duty calls, and it’s brought me here, to Kent, seeking to snare the wrongdoers I gather you and your people are already helping to watch.”
“Ah!” Gracella nodded as if that explained everything—and, Christopher thought, given the remarkable knowledge she’d just displayed, perhaps it did.
He decided it was time to state their purpose. “We’ve come to speak with you and Aaron. It’s become vital that we have someone we trust who, at night and without the need to speak, can pass for Hardcastle, the publican of the Bull Inn.”
Aaron met Christopher’s eyes, his own widening with interest, then he exchanged a swift glance with Gracella and waved toward the stools that, during the short conversation, had been arranged by others before the leader’s wagon. “Come, sit, and tell us.”
Of course, Gracella insisted on serving them tea, but once they were settled, sipping the rosy liquid from the tiny glasses, she waved at Christopher and Drake. “So the publican, this Hardcastle, he is one of your wrongdoers?”
“He is,” Drake confirmed, “but only in a minor way.” With a look at Christopher, he added, “Hardcastle is presently sitting in the manor’s cellar and has decided to be helpful. He’s told us how he hands on counterfeit notes he ferries up from the coast. We want to pretend to deliver his latest package—which those further along the chain are expecting—so we can catch the person who receives the counterfeit notes in the act, so that they, like Hardcastle, will have no choice but to help us follow the trail on, eventually to the one who is behind the whole scheme.”
Gracella pondered that. After several minutes, she glanced at Aaron, then returned her gaze to Drake. “This is not, strictly speaking, a matter that involves the Romany, yet counterfeit notes will cause strife for all.” She transferred her gaze to Christopher. “You and he”—she tipped her head at Drake—“are from families who are longtime friends of the Romany, and as you have come to ask for our help with this”—she swiveled to nod decisively to Aaron—“then it is right that we should assist.” Returning her gaze to Drake, Gracella waved. “So ask what it is you came here to ask.”
Drake half bowed, then said to Aaron, “I haven’t seen Hardcastle myself, but Christopher and Ellen believe you could pass for him well enough for our purpose.”
Aaron looked at Christopher. “Hardcastle is older than I am.”
Christopher nodded. “But you and he are much the same build.”
“And the meeting will take place in a wood at midnight,” Ellen rushed to say.
Gracella sat back as, between them, Christopher and Ellen explained to Aaron what their plan required.
Eventually, Aaron agreed to do his best to impersonate Hardcastle and place the counterfeit notes into the mysterious lady’s hands. “It will help,” Aaron said, “if—as you say Hardcastle is willing to be helpful—I can spend a few minutes watching him walk. Perhaps put the packet in his hands so I can see how he carries it.” A hint of cunning showed in the gypsy leader’s dark eyes. “Little touches like that are often the things that carry a deception.”