Page 63 of Betrayal from Beyond
Full payment and a savings on delivery? The tailor was no fool.
“Oh. Very well, then. Seeing as you are traveling that way, and mean to see the lady, I suppose there would be no harm.” Hartford nodded. “I’ll just pack it up for you, then.” He gave them a crook of a smile. “And then I think I shall just stroll down to Mr. Norrey’s shop and tell him that everything worked out, just as I predicted.”
Chapter Eighteen
Niall handed theladies into the carriage before spending a few moments speaking with John Coachman. He nodded to the guard they had brought along, who was riding along at the back in ill-fitted livery, playing the role of footman. He tossed Hartford’s bundle under the seat as he climbed in.
“Whom do you think she’s bought those clothes for?” Gyda asked. “One of her associates?”
“I think she’s bought them for herself,” Niall answered grimly. “Recall what Stayme said, when we first arrived home—he had a watcher keeping an eye on his home from the garden square. He was convinced that both the woman and the ‘aging clerk’ were Petra Scot.”
“What a busy little bee that bitch has been,” grumbled Gyda.
“Chiswick.” Kara looked worried. “It has a train line and easy roads into London proper. It’s not far from Kingston Upon Thames.” She cast Niall a worried look. “And it’s not far from Bluefield, either. She’s been going between all of them.”
“It makes sense as a location for her viper’s nest, but I wonder if she is in it alone?” Somehow, Niall doubted it. Petra always did have a taste for lackeys.
“But we don’t truly expect to find her at this school?” Kara glanced down at the address the tailor had given them. “She might be able to convince a couple of merchants that she is Katherine Prentice, but surely she couldn’t keep up such amasquerade at her sister’s place of work? With people who have spent so much time with her sister, day in and day out?”
“If nothing else, the children would know,” said Gyda. “They always know. Children can spot a sham from fifty paces. And they wouldn’t have been likely to keep quiet about it, either.”
Kara frowned. “By all accounts, Katherine was a normal sort of woman. She was a teacher, which must mean she would have possessed the ability to empathize and commune with others.” She shook her head. “Petra couldn’t manage to act normal for longer than ten minutes, if that. She’s a self-centered blowhard who wouldn’t recognize an empathetic thought if it smacked her right between the brows.”
“She must be maintaining some sort of contact within the school, if she meant to have her elegant men’s clothes delivered there,” Gyda mused.
“All we can do is ask,” Niall said. “It does worry me, though. What could she have planned, in which she would have to pass as a finely dressed gentleman?”
“Nothing good,” Gyda said darkly. “Which is why we must get to her quickly.”
It wasn’t quite two hours before they pulled up before the Clifford School for Girls in Chiswick. John Coachman asked for directions and found his way around the village green and to the south before he drove through the gates and onto the school grounds.
“Good heavens,” Kara said as they descended into the drive. Set in a large park of its own, it was a vast expanse of pale stone stretching up three stories, with long wings on either side of the formal entrance. The façade was beautiful, broken up with pointed gables and octagonal turrets. A many-windowed addition that looked newer graced the far right end of the school. Green lawns spread out before and behind the building. A stack of croquet equipment lay on the front lawn, as if waiting. Fromsomewhere in the back rang the laughter and excited shrieks of children taking advantage of the afternoon sun.
The guard had leapt down and rang at the door to announce them. As they moved away from the carriage, the door opened wide and a somber woman in gray skirts stepped out, her hands folded.
“Behold, the dragon,” Gyda said, low.
The woman sank into a very correct curtsy as they reached her. “Your Grace. Your Grace.” Standing, she cast a questioning glance at Gyda. “And…?”
“May I present our very good friend, Miss Gyda Winther,” Niall said.
“Miss Winther.” The woman gave Gyda a nod. “I am Mrs. Brennan, the director of the Clifford School. I am delighted to welcome you all.” She stepped aside and waved a hand. “May I invite you inside?”
Niall followed the ladies into an impressive marbled hall. He noticed Kara’s attention was captured by the two main portraits that dominated the far wall. “The fifth Duke of Devonshire and his second wife,” she said.
“Oh, yes. You might be aware of the influence the Devonshires have had on Chiswick, what with Chiswick House being so popular with the family and their friends.”
“The street names alone betray the association,” Kara replied.
“Indeed.” Mrs. Brennan noticed Gyda admiring a wall of mounted swords and bayonets and went to stand at her side. “This particular sword belonged to one of our founders,” she began.
Kara drew Niall down to whisper in his ear. “Clifford is the surname of the illegitimate son of the fifth duke and his then-mistress, Lady Elizabeth Foster.”
“Oh, yes.” He recalled the story now. “The infamousménage à trois.” He glanced at the portrait. “That’s her? The mistress?”
Kara nodded, but Mrs. Brennan had turned back to them. “Would you care to join me in my office?”
“Yes, thank you.” Niall nodded. “We would like a private word.”
