Page 69 of Crash Landing
“It does, but I did not bother showing it to you because it has fallen into disuse. However, I would love to revive it. I have a little knowledge of medicinal plants that I would love to grow over the winter. Not to mention herbs, medieval roses, and citrus trees. I will have my work cut out for me.”
“Then you must come with me now and see what I have done with our conservatory. Let me put my embroidery basket away and I’ll give you a tour.”
Hermia gave a light wave of her hand. “You go on without me. I’ll stay here with your maid. I’m feeling rather poorly and would appreciate her preparing me a tisane while you are in the conservatory.”
“All right,” Sylvia said. “Rutledge, attend to Miss Newton.”
“We shan’t be gone long,” Florence assured her aunt.
Sylvia, with her sewing basket in hand, practically sprinted toward the conservatory. “Goodness, slight change of plans. Let me dig the letters out from the rose cuttings. But you’ll have to hide them on your person.”
“And you’ll have to slip the fake packet of letters back where your husband hid the originals,” Florence said. “Can you do this now? Before he grows suspicious and checks on where he has hidden them.I’m sorry about this last-minute change in plans, but I doubt your husband would have let the cuttings go without searching the carton.”
“I know. I was hoping I could distract him just long enough to let you escape with them. Yours is a much better plan. Here they are.” Sylvia dug into the rose carton and withdrew the letters that had been wrapped in a protective cloth.
“Is this how he stored them? Bound in this cloth?”
“No, I just did that to safeguard them.”
“All right.” Florence checked the bundle to make certain these were in fact the letters and not a trick.
“They’re real,” Sylvia remarked.
“Forgive me for checking. I do not doubt you,” Florence said. Although she had to be wary, especially now that they had gotten this far. “But your husband is highly suspicious and might have done something in preparation for my visit to Frampton Court.” She quickly slipped the packet into the hidden pocket of her gown.
“Yes, that was always a risk with him. There are days when one must walk on eggshells around him. But you seem to be two steps ahead of him. What a brilliant idea to have your aunt bring her basket. And this duplicate packet. It’s perfect. I would never know they weren’t the originals.”
“How will you get them back in their hiding place? Where does he hide the letters?”
“He has a safe in his study.”
“Typical,” Florence said, thinking it was not very clever of him to place it somewhere she would have looked first. “And you must know the combination.”
Sylvia nodded. “But he doesn’t know that I do. This is why I thought my plan might work. It was such a low thing to steal them from Lady Simmons. I have been hating myself for it ever since. But my husband gave me no choice. I had to do it or face his wrath.”
Florence placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Sylvia, comewith us if you are worried about—”
“No, I’m safest remaining here and playing innocent. Look, the gardeners are returning. We have to plan a distraction quickly. They are my husband’s men and cannot be trusted.”
“Leave it to Hermia.”
“Really? Is she up to the task? My husband and his guards have embedded themselves in the study, and it will take nothing short of an explosion to pry them out.”
“We’ll do our best,” Florence said with a smile, patting the secret pocket sewn into her gown to make certain the originals were secure. She had also placed a second fake set of letters in her garter just as a precaution. It was a simple trick, really. If Frampton were ever to have her searched, the fake letters in the garter were the first ones the searcher would find. The searcher’s brain would logically assume they had found what they were looking for and stop patting her down.
If they by chance realized these were fake, she could admit her intention to steal the originals but claim she had never gotten the opportunity.
Yes, it was dangerous. But it would be just enough to put off Frampton. Most important, he might not harm her if he thought she had failed.
Sylvia pretended not to notice they were being watched by Frampton’s gardeners and continued with her tour of the conservatory. When they were done, they returned to the parlor. Sylvia had no sooner entered than she realized she was still holding on to her own embroidery basket. “We had such a lovely chat in the conservatory, I completely forgot to run upstairs. Oh, give me a moment to drop this basket in my bedchamber.”
The maid rose from her chair and marched toward Sylvia. “Let me take it for you.”
“Would you?” Sylvia cast the dour maid a pleasant smile. “Here. Be careful with it.”
Florence signaled to Hermia, who gave an imperceptible nod and rose. “Florence, thank goodness you are back. My dear, I am feeling not at all well.”
Having said that, she managed to fall atop the tea cart, knocking it over onto the maid, who had yet to take hold of Sylvia’s basket.
