Newt's Emerald

Chapter Seven Agatha’s Previous Employer

Eventually, it was discovered that Agatha hadn’t taken anything other than her own clothes, and had left no evidence to suggest where she might have gone. Accordingly, several Bow Street Runners immediately lost interest and departed, grumbling about false alarms and rude awakenings. A runaway maid was not of the same importance as a thieving maid and a great quantity of stolen silver, and no one mentioned the Emerald.

By three o’clock that morning, the house had quietened again, leaving Harnett, the ostensible de Vienne and Lady Badgery having a quiet conference in the drawing room. Truthful quickly relayed the General’s opinion to Lady Badgery, who seemed unsurprised.

“Thought of her myself,” she said sourly. “But then I never liked her, so I had to take my natural dislike into account, and she was still with Lady Truthful, which lulled my suspicions. Surely she would have run away as soon as she arrived in London?”

“A clever ploy,” replied Harnett. “And a successful one. Perhaps she needed to make some arrangements . . . hmmm . . . we must find out more about this maid. Would it be possible for you to have Lady Truthful woken up, milady?”

Lady Badgery looked at him disapprovingly, as only a dowager could, though her fez somewhat lessened the effect. “At three in the morning? When she has been ill with a sick headache?”

“I think that we must move ahead as quickly as possible,” replied the Major. “Saving your presence, milady, I know that many sick headaches in ladies are simply nerves . . .”

He faltered to a stop as Lady Badgery’s brow furrowed still further into a definite frown, and a chilly silence spread through the room.

“Perhaps Lady Truthful should be woken up,” said Truthful hurriedly, ending with a long and only partly feigned yawn, half-smothered by a slow-moving hand. As she yawned, her gaze met her great-aunt’s, and she saw a twinkle appear to match that in her own eyes.

“Oh, very well,” snapped the Dowager. “But I absolutely insist that you go to bed, Chevalier! Why your mother would not be pleased to see you up so late, with your delicate constitution.”

Truthful looked out of the corner of her eye as Lady Badgery continued in this vein, and saw Major Harnett studiously looking at a portrait of the late Lord Badgery in a corner of the room. Harnett’s lip was slightly curled, and it was only too obvious he had no great opinion of the Chevalier de Vienne, just as he had early voiced no great opinion of Lady Truthful. Well, thought Truthful angrily, as she stifled another pathetic yawn, let him have what he expects.

“Yes, you are right, cousin,” she said to Lady Badgery. “I shall ask Parkins to wake Lady Truthful on my way up to bed. Good night, Major Harnett. Thank you for your assistance, and for the most interesting supper with General Leye.”

“Goodnight, Chevalier,” replied Harnett politely, unable to keep a slight note of condescension from his voice. “I trust that we shall soon unravel this whole sorry affair.”

“I expect so,” replied Truthful, smiling. “Good night, cousin.”

Forty minutes later, Harnett and Lady Badgery’s polite conversation about very little (which had succeeded an unsuccessful attempt by Lady Badgery to discern his ancestry) was interrupted by the querulous voice of a young woman.

“What is going on, Aunt? Parkins absolutely insisted I must get up, and I have a quite awful headache! What has Agatha done?”

This speech was rapidly followed by the speaker, a young woman carefully attired in a pale green morning half-dress with a white demi-train, grey slippers and a green and white bonnet. A few ringlets of her red hair escaped from under the latter, artful testimony to a rushed awakening.

“Allow me to present Major Harnett,” said Lady Badgery.

“How do you do?” said Truthful coldly. She let her eyes cross the Major disdainfully to slide with obvious intent to the clock on the mantlepiece, before adding, “I am unused to . . . gentlemen . . . callers at this hour of the morning.”

“I am not calling in the usual way,” said Harnett, with considerable reserve. “Your cousin, the Chevalier de Vienne, dined with myself and General Leye this evening, hoping to enlist the General’s assistance in the search for the Newington Emerald. Your Emerald, Lady Truthful.”

“Oh yes?” replied Truthful, pointing one dove-grey slipper and looking at it as if it displeased her. “I hope it was an enjoyable evening.”

“It was a productive one,” said the Major, bristling. “The General deduced that the Emerald was stolen by your maid, Agatha.”

“La!” cried Truthful, in a show of languid surprise. “The disloyal creature! Father shall have her whipped. I am sure Hetherington knows how to lay on a cat-o-nine-tails!”

This sally met with silence, and Truthful, looking at Harnett through the corner of one half-lidded eye, felt both unholy glee at playing the spoilt young lady, and a strong tinge of guilt that had shades of something else. Did she really want Harnett to detest her, just because he had formed an opinion of her from what he had heard?

“I’m afraid, Lady Truthful, that you will not be able to have Agatha whipped unless you can catch her,” said Harnett coldly. “The commotion that has kept us up to this hour, and led to your own disturbed rest, was caused by the sudden decamping of your maid. She could be halfway to Dover and a ship by now. With your Emerald.”

“Oh,” said Truthful, more realistically. She hadn’t thought beyond her immediate pleasure in playing the Lady Truthful Harnett expected.

“You suspect she will flee to France?” asked Lady Badgery.

“I believe it is a strong possibility,” replied the Major. “Certainly, it would be in the best interests of such a criminal to sell the gem in some far corner of the Continent, where its provenance would not be known.”

“What can we do?” asked Truthful, almost beseechingly, before she remembered her chosen role. “I presume that you will assist a lady in distress, sir?”

Harnett looked at her coldly. “As I am now involved in this matter, Lady Truthful, I could not withdraw even should I wish to do so.”

“That was an ungallant speech, Major,” interrupted Lady Badgery, before he could continue. She moved slightly in between the straight-backed Major and the stiff-legged Truthful, like someone intervening between a dog and a cat. “However, my niece and I will be very grateful for your help. What is our first step, may I ask?”

The Major turned away from Truthful, and bowed to Lady Badgery. “A gallant speech from you, milady, only heightens my lack of courtesy. I apologise to you both.”

He turned back to incline his head at Truthful, and for a second, their eyes met. She saw a glint of anger there, as if he didn’t really want to apologise to her, and she felt her own eyes sparking anger back. With the fleeting thought that she might regret it, she cast herself even more into her play-acting.

“Oh, I regard such things as words little, Major,” she replied archly. “I judge a man by his actions. One always hears so much mere talk, don’t you agree?”

“As you say, Lady Truthful,” said Harnett, neatly turning her insult. “We must begin with words, however. For instance, can you tell me who employed Agatha before she came to be your maid?”

“Oh no,” laughed Truthful. “I have much more important things to do than enquire where servants come from, why—”

“Parkins will know,” interrupted Lady Badgery, casting a daunting glance at Truthful. “She always knows everything there is to know about anyone who comes to this house, family, servants or visitors.”

“Thank you, milady,” said Harnett. He coughed, and pulled a watch from his waistcoat, the silver chain tinkling slightly. “I think it might after all be best if I return later in the morning to speak to Parkins. I shall then make myself available for the whole day, if any concrete evidence should come forward.”

“That is most kind,” replied Lady Badgery. “I am sure that the chevalier will be delighted to assist you.”

Major Harnett nodded without enthusiasm, bowed again to Lady Badgery, and then, rather perfunctorily, to Truthful. As he straightened up, she felt a twinge of remorse, and held out her hand, saying in her normal tones, “I . . . I do thank you, Major.”

He merely touched her fingers, and his reply seemed to be directed at someone rather taller than her who was standing several feet behind.

“I look upon it as a necessary duty, Lady Truthful. I shall recover the Emerald for you. Good night.”

With that, he turned on his heel and left. Through the parlour door, Truthful saw him storm down the stair to the front door, snatching his hat and gloves from Dworkin who was coming up to meet him.

“You were very rude, child,” said Lady Badgery. “He is helping you, you know.”

“I know,” said Truthful despondently. “But he said that I was haughty and icy, and cut poor Mr Trellingsworth on purpose . . .”

“And now you have confirmed his opinion,” sighed Lady Badgery. “With a dose of silliness added to the haughtiness and ice. Fortunately, he is not someone of the first rank. I have never heard of the Harnetts of Yorkshire. It is odd, for his manners and bearing . . . it is not important.”

She looked around, to make sure they were alone, then bent down to Truthful’s ear. “You had best go to bed, Truthful. For Henri will doubtless be called early, if this Harnett is the sort of man I suspect.”

“Good night, Aunt,” sighed Truthful, kissing Lady Badgery lightly on the cheek. “And I thank you, at least, for your efforts on my behalf. Oh . . . I wish Father had never shown me the Emerald!”

The morning did begin early, as Lady Badgery had predicted. Major Harnett was at the house soon after eight, and Truthful had to stick on her moustache and appear as the Chevalier de Vienne while Harnett waited to question Parkins as Lady Badger had decided to question Parkins herself first. What she heard resulted in a screech of outrage from the old lady that brought Truthful rushing to her bedroom.

“Lady Amelia Plathenden!” she was hissing after another series of anger-venting shrieks. “That viper! Vixen! I see it now, a long plot and one worthy of that poisonous woman. Why, I’ll—”

Seeing her niece staring at her from the doorway, she calmed herself and took several deep breaths. “I must be growing old, not to think of Amelia Plathenden! Where is Major Harnett?”

“The Major is waiting in the library milady,” replied Parkins, “Perhaps I should fetch you a cordial . . . something calming?”

“No, no,” said Lady Badgery testily. “Fetch the major, or I’ll have to explain this whole thing twice. Don’t look startled, Chevalier, I’m an old woman, and this is a sick room at the moment, not a bedchamber. Besides, I’m sure Major Harnett has seen many a lady’s bedroom in his time.”

“Aunt!” cried Truthful, genuinely shocked and then she raised her hands to her face and blushed as she realised she’d said “Aunt” and not “Cousin”. Parkins, half way out the door, turned, and seeing Truthful’s look of despair, smiled and laid a finger alongside her nose, before closing the door behind her.

“Vulgar baggage,” remarked Lady Badgery. “Close your mouth, Truthful, and stop looking surprised. I told you Parkins always knows what’s going on. Besides, she might not be a trained sorceress, but she comes from a long line of witches. I daresay she could see through any glamour of mine.”

“Oh,” said Truthful. She sat down on the chair next to the bed, then stood up again to spread her coat-tails for a second attempt. “I thought I was doing rather well.”

“You are, dear,” said Lady Badgery. “But even the best glamour can only work for a short time in a house such as this, when you are under close inspection. Dworkin, for example, almost certainly knows. Perhaps Agatha did too. But none of my people will talk . . . or if they do . . .”

A knock on the door interrupted her, and Truthful got up to let Harnett in. As he passed, she couldn’t help running her eyes over him, taking in his sober blue coat, fawn pantaloons and shining top-boots. These, while highly-polished, lacked the glow that rumour said could only be gained by a mixture of champagne and polish applied by a master valet. His hair too, was only lightly brushed back, a sad remnant of the style he’d affected the night before, and his face was set in fairly grim lines. Despite all this, Truthful found that she would rather look at him than any dandy, and realising this, she denied it to herself, and looked away. Before the Major could say good morning, Lady Badgery spoke.

“Good morning, Major Harnett. Please be seated. You too, Chevalier. As you can see, I find myself confined to my sick-bed by the rigours of last night’s incident. I apologise. However, it is fortunate I was lying down, otherwise I suspect I would have suffered a fit of apoplexy when Parkins told me Agatha was once the personal maid of . . . of Lady Amelia Plathenden.”

A lack of recognition greeted these words, and the old lady looked somewhat miffed that Truthful and Harnett hadn’t suffered from a fit of apoplexy as well.

“Who is Lady Plathenden?” asked Truthful. “And why would . . .”

“I’m coming to that! Don’t be impatient, young man. The theft of the Emerald has obviously been a long-planned plot of the vilest nature, Major Harnett. This became apparent to me as soon as I heard that Agatha used to be Lady Plathenden’s maid. You see, Amelia Plathenden was very nearly Amelia Newington.”

“What?” cried Truthful, jerking forward in her chair.

“Oh, stop interrupting, Chevalier!” cried Lady Badgery. “Twenty-two years ago, Tancred Newington, the Admiral’s oldest brother, was heir to the title and the Emerald. He became engaged to Amelia Corbere, as she then was. However, she was caught in some indiscretion, and Tancred broke the engagement. They argued in public, and Amelia was heard to say that she only wanted to marry him for the Emerald.

“This became only too obvious later, as she then set her cap at George, the middle brother, and then at Edmund, that is, Truthful’s father the Admiral. Neither succumbed to her charms, I’m glad to say.

“Now, as you may know, both Tancred and George died shortly after Edmund married. So there was no legitimate way for Amelia to procure the Emerald — and as it was hidden in a secret location at Newington Hall, little chance of stealing it either. Perhaps Amelia gave up her desire for the Emerald then, only to have that desire rekindled when the opportunity presented itself to put her maid into the household.”

“Excuse me, milady,” said Harnett, slowly. “Are you saying that Lady Plathenden conceived a plan for stealing the Emerald that would take more than seven years to mature? And that she now has the Emerald?”

“Yes and yes!” exclaimed Lady Badgery. “That woman never forgets, and when she wants something, she either gets it or destroys it! Why I even suspect that George and Tancred didn’t die of any common illness . . .”

Shocked silence met her words, and the old woman seemed to subside a little into the bed.

“There was no proof,” she muttered. “Her husband was a malignant sorcerer, and it was long rumoured that she practiced dark arts herself and was even twice investigated by the Argent Pursuivant. But no charges were laid, the proof insufficient, or so it was said. But she hated them both, and she danced with Tancred and George at a ball the night before they fell sick. I should have been there, I might have seen it . . . but I was not. They were hearty men, my nephews, but dead within the week. She would have murdered Truthful’s father too, I’m sure, but Venetia — Truthful’s mother — was wary of her, and she made sure her Edmund was safe from Amelia Plathenden.”

“Begging your pardon,” said Harnett dubiously. “But this is all rather . . . ahem . . . unproven. Possible murders long ago, unsuccessful investigations of malignant sorcery . . . and there is no evidence Lady Plathenden is involved in the theft of the Emerald. Are you quite certain . . .”

“I have never been more sure, sir,” said Lady Badgery, fixing him with an eye that had been known to quell personages up to and including minor royalty. “I may not have scried it, but my every sense tells me it is true.”

“Well we can’t expect the Law to be of any use,” began the Major. “I mean, there’s no clear evidence of devilment, so we can’t expect the Argent Pursuivant to become involved, nor would any magistrate. Even General Leye could not act officially unless—”

“Lady Plathenden will have to be convinced returning the Emerald will be in her best interests,” interrupted Lady Badgery. “Or it must simply be taken back from her.”

“Taken back?” asked Truthful.

“Stolen back, I think you mean,” said Harnett. “Not something . . .”

He paused, looked at Lady Badgery, then across at the white-faced chevalier. “Oh, hang it all! Why not! I’ll do it, Lady Badgery. Sometimes it is best to charge straight up to the guns and over them! Lady Plathenden will find herself facing two very unusual gentlemen callers later today. What do you say, Chevalier?”

Truthful stared at him, her false moustache tickling her upper lip, and saw his barely contained glee. He was actually looking forward to an undoubtedly hostile and socially extremely difficult encounter with the dangerous-sounding Lady Plathenden, a malignant sorceress who might have poisoned her two uncles.

“I can see why you’re not a member of Whites!” she blurted out, then, as puzzlement clouded his face, she said, “I mean . . . is this . . . oh . . . yes, I will be happy to accompany you, sir.”

“That’s settled then,” pronounced Lady Badgery. “Lady Truthful will be most grateful to you both.”

“One would think so,” said Harnett dryly. “However, I fear your niece is not terribly concerned with the fate of something she probably accounts a mere bauble, its value and sorcerous properties notwithstanding.”

“Hmmmm . . .” replied Lady Badgery. “You must remember that she was suffering a severe headache when you met, my dear Major. Normally she is very even tempered.”

“I look forward to meeting her again,” said the Major, who clearly meant quite the reverse. “However, I shall recover the Emerald because it pleases you, Lady Badgery.”

“You are most kind,” said Lady Badgery, smiling as he bowed over her hand and turned to go. “It is so nice to have two such charming young men waiting on an old lady. Now go, and fetch me the Emerald.”

As the Major turned to the door, Lady Badgery looked at Truthful behind his back, and winked in a very low and vulgar fashion. After a moment’s thought, and an internal shudder, Truthful winked back, and followed Harnett out the door.