“Perhaps, my dear”—Kirkpatrick looked at Julia—“you could ask Archer to pack a bag?”
“Yes, of course.” Julia rose, bringing the men to their feet.
Louisa raised a hand, catching Julia’s attention. “Merely tell Archer that her mistress has decided to stay elsewhere for the next week. No need to go into details.”
Julia nodded, excused herself, and left.
The men resumed their seats.
“On the evening of each event,” Drake said, “we’ll escort Rose here in time for her to dress and be ready to receive her guests. She will, however, be closely supervised the entire time.”
Kirkpatrick frowned. “Will she play along, do you think?”
“We believe so,” Drake said. “Although she hasn’t yet confirmed that in words, it’s unlikely she won’t, given that her only path to escaping the hangman is to behave as we direct.”
After further discussion, Kirkpatrick called in his senior staff. Aided by Louisa, Ellen, and Julia, who had returned to report that Archer was preparing a small bag, he explained to the plainly curious staff that their erstwhile mistress was being held elsewhere in custody, having involved herself in an illegal plot that was extremely serious and that those present were now working to overturn.
“As part of that,” Kirkpatrick concluded, “it’s essential the upcoming card parties continue as planned.”
Drake had been studying the staff. “We need to stress,” he said, “that it is absolutely vital that no gossip of any sort regarding your mistress’s change in circumstances leaks out. Not to anyone, not in any way.”
Scanning the uncertain looks on the staff’s faces, Ellen put in, “Also, you should know that, after acting as hostess for the three card parties—under close supervision—your former mistress will not be returning to this house.”
Obvious relief washed over the four staff. Secombe half bowed to Ellen. “Very good, miss.” He glanced at his wife and the two others lined up at the end of the rug. “That answers our most pressing question.”
The staff’s other questions—revolving about how they were to manage three major card parties likely to be bigger than any they’d hosted before—were answered chiefly by Louisa and Ellen.
“You needn’t fear being overwhelmed,” Ellen assured them. “We’ll be bringing in extra staff from Bigfield House and the manor and even”—she glanced at Louisa—“London.”
Louisa nodded. “Miss Julia, Miss Martingale, and I will liaise with you to make sure you have whatever assistance you require to ensure the evenings run smoothly.”
“Today is Saturday,” Ellen said, “and the first card party is to be on Tuesday evening. If you would think through your preparations and note any difficulties you foresee”—again, Ellen glanced at Louisa—“the marchioness and I will visit on Monday and go through everything with you and Miss Julia.”
“I’m sure,” Louisa said bracingly, “that working together, we’ll manage everything satisfactorily.”
The staff’s—and Julia’s—relief was palpable.
After confirming with Secombe that Tilly and Nigel had been confined in the back parlor and were, apparently, growing distinctly nervous, Kirkpatrick dismissed the staff and returned his attention to Drake. “What now, my lord?”
“Now,” Drake said, catching Christopher’s eye, “I believe it’s time we met the Fontenays.” Drake glanced around the company. “Any observations before we have them brought in?”
After a moment, Ellen asked, “What are the chances both of them know where Rose went last night and why?”
Louisa arched her brows. “High, I should think.”
“So,” Ellen went on, “by now, they must be quite exercised over what Rose’s disappearance might mean for them—I got the impression they were every bit as self-centered as she.”
Julia nodded decisively. “They are.”
“I’ve had little to do with the pair myself,” Kirkpatrick said. “They’re not the sort of people I find entertaining.”
Drake nodded at Robbie, who remained closest to the bellpull. “Let’s have them in.” To Kirkpatrick, Drake said, “It might be wise to have your senior staff back as well, so they hear what we say to the Fontenays and thus will be confident in acting accordingly.”
Kirkpatrick agreed and, when Secombe reappeared, gave the relevant orders. Secombe departed, and shortly afterward, the other three members of the senior staff came in. At Drake’s direction, they lined up along the wall; from there, they would be able to see the Fontenays and hear all that was said.
Seconds later, Secombe, flanked by two sturdy footmen, escorted a worried-looking Tilly and a scowling Nigel into the room.
Robbie and Christopher had placed two straight-backed chairs at the end of the rug, facing the assembled company. As Secombe joined the other senior staff and the door shut behind the footmen, Drake waved to the chairs. “Take a seat.”
Tilly came quickly forward and sat, clasping her hands in her lap. Her gaze went from one face to the next, trying to divine what was going on.
Nigel glowered as he dropped into the chair beside her. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “Where’s Rose?”
Although he scowled at everyone, the fear behind his attitude could not have been more evident.
“As to that,” Drake said, “your cousin has been detained at Her Majesty’s pleasure.”
“What?” Nigel paled, then belligerently asked, “Who the devil are you?”
Drake smiled chillingly. “I’m Winchelsea, and my authority stems from those at the highest levels in Whitehall. Beyond that, you don’t need to know more. What you do need to concentrate on”—his gaze switched to Tilly, then returned to Nigel—“both of you, is your own survival.”
Tilly’s eyes widened, and even Nigel drew back.
Drake tipped his head. “Indeed. The situation is this.” Concisely, he told them what they needed to know—that the plan to pass on a large number of counterfeit banknotes had been rumbled, that Drake and those assembled were now directing the action, that Rose was in custody and would be assisting in putting on the card parties as originally planned minus the counterfeit notes, and finally, that Tilly’s and Nigel’s futures were in their own hands.
“At this point,” Drake continued, “we are willing to view you as Rose’s underlings—brought in by her to assist in carrying out her plan to distribute counterfeit banknotes via the card parties. She needed you both to give her the right contacts among the younger set and also to establish a certain credibility over providing appropriate entertainment.”
Without pausing, he went on, “Should you agree to assist us in putting on a good show during the upcoming card parties by playing your customary roles in much the same vein as your cousin will be, then the authorities might be prevailed upon to turn a blind eye to your involvement in the wider illegal scheme. However”—Drake fixed both Fontenays with his gaze—“if you do not behave and do not adhere to the absolute letter of our plan, I can guarantee you will find yourself clapped in gaol with an alacrity that will leave your head spinning.”