'Did he tell you why he was hiring you?' the earl said.
'Just that he was playing a trick on a lady friend of his,' Maybelle responded. 'I thought it was a rather odd trick, but he wasn't asking me to do anything I hadn't done before, and he promised me two gold crowns if I went along with him. He give me one when I agreed to help him, but he never give me the other when it was over,' Maybelle said indignantly. 'Said he would have to owe it to me! I don't give credit. If I did, I'd be in the street!'
Valerian Hawkesworth swallowed back a laugh and saw from the look on John Stuart's face that he, too, was struggling manfully with his own amusement, but to laugh would have offended the woman before them, who in her own way was quite ethical.
'Did Lord Trahern give you a gown to wear?' the earl continued on with his gentle interrogation.
'Oh, yes!' Maybelle said enthusiastically. 'I were real upset he made me auction it off piece by piece. It were by far the prettiest gown I ever wore. I'd have taken it off, if he asked, without selling it,' she said mournfully.
'Did you know any of the gentlemen involved other than Lord Trahern?' John Stuart questioned the girl further.
'Two of them, but I never spoke except at the end to thank the gentlemen nicely as Lord Trahern had instructed me,' she told him.
'Which two?'
'Lord Shelley and Sir Roger Andrews, and I seen Lord Bolton once at a party I was invited to, but I was never introduced formal-like,' Maybelle explained.
'Did Shelley or Andrews recognize you?' the earl queried.
'Sir Roger might have,' she replied. 'He kept looking at me real close, over and over, while I was there. It really began to make me nervous, I can tell you,' Maybelle said.
'Sit down, Mistress Maybelle,' the earl told the girl. Then he turned to Mr. Wiggums. 'Do you know Sir Roger Andrews?'
'Aye, m'lord, I do. I've lent 'im a wee bit of coin on occasion. 'E always pays on time. A real gentleman, 'e is.'
'Fetch him!' the earl snapped, and Mr. Wiggums was quickly gone.
'Will you have something to drink while we wait, Mistress Maybelle?' the earl inquired solicitously.
'Wouldn't mind a tad of something' was the reply.
'Whiskey or sherry?' he asked.
'Whiskey, sir,' she said.
'Valerian?'
The duke shook his head.
The earl, to be polite, joined his female guest in liquid refreshment, and they sat quietly awaiting the arrival of Sir Roger. When he arrived, coming through the hidden door with Mr. Wiggums, the young peer's jaw dropped, recognizing both the earl and the duke. He bowed politely, and then his eye went to Maybelle.
'So it was you last night!' he said. 'I thought so! And Trahern, that outsider, insisting that it was the Duchess of F. Your pardon, my lord! I meant no offense.'
'Which is why we are here, Andrews,' the earl said. 'A lady's reputation is at stake, as is her family's good name. You are certain it was not the lady Trahern insists it was?'
'Good Lord, no! At first, of course, I didn't know, and then I wasn't certain, but then this morning I woke up and knew it was Maybelle. She wears this violet perfume, and I don't know any other lady who does; and she's got this heart-shaped birthmark on her left breast, just above the nipple. Not another one like it in the world, I'm quite certain!'
'Do you think any of the other men involved know who it was, Andrews?' the earl asked him.
'Lord Shelley was certain it wasn't the duchess, despite Trahern. He said her hair wasn't that color, and her perfume was entirely different, more like country air, and less exotic. Shelley said he danced with the duchess at several balls, and her eyes are blue, not brown like Maybelle's here. We couldn't figure out Trahern's game, but we surely did have a good time.'
Maybelle giggled coyly. 'Why don't you come and see me, then, Sir Roger? Number three, Tanners Alley, second floor rear.'
The young man grinned back at her.
'You will sign a statement to that effect, Andrews?' the earl said quietly. 'And you, Mistress Maybelle, if we write down your story, will you put your mark to it?'
'I can sign me name,' Maybelle said proudly.
'Excellent, my dear,' the Earl of Bute replied with a smile. Then he reached out and drew upon the bellpull. A moment later a young man entered the room. 'Franklyn, I would like you to take down several statements. Please get your writing box.'
The statements were drawn up, and read over by both Sir Roger Andrews and Maybelle. Both signed without hesitation. Mr. Wig-gums had been dispatched to fetch lords Shelley and Bolton. Sir Roger and the girl were told to be seated and remain quiet. They sat on a far and slightly darkened side of the room. Lord Shelley arrived first, explaining that- Mr. Wiggums had said he was wanted by the Earl of Bute over at St. James's Palace. One quick look around the chamber at its other occupants, and he knew immediately why he had been sent for.
Lord Shelley bowed to the earl and the duke. 'This is about last night at the Brimstone, I presume,' he said.
The earl nodded. 'We cannot allow Hawkesworth's good name or his wife's reputation to be compromised by such a nasty prank. Sir Roger says you know it wasn't the duchess. Will you sign a statement to that effect?'
'Of course,' Lord Shelley replied. 'But why is it even necessary? Certainly no one there really believed it was Lady Hawkesworth, my lords. Granted the wench was an excellent fuck, but her skin had not the fine texture of a lady's. No one was fooled.'
'Trahern has developed a grudge,' the duke said briefly. 'He is attempting to spread the rumor, and if it reaches the king's ear, both my wife and I could lose their majesties' friendship if we have not the means to repudiate such a nasty rumor.'
'The man is a lowlife, a hanger-on, a scoundrel,' Lord Shelley said. 'If he were an animal, I would put him out of his misery for all our sakes. Pity he ain't.'
'Lord Trahern will regret his actions, I promise you,' the duke replied grimly.
Lord Shelley signed his statement, and then joined Sir Roger and Merry Maybelle on the darkened side of the room.
Suddenly the hidden door opened and Lord Bolton, protesting, was pushed into the room by Mr. Wiggums. 'Bute!' he snarled. 'Is this your doing? You had better have a damned good explanation!'
The earl quietly explained.
'Don't have the slightest idea of what you're talking about,' the Whig politician said. 'I would never go to the Brimstone.'
Valerian Hawkesworth gritted his teeth angrily. The Whigs were currently out of power, and were making strenuous efforts to thwart the king and the Earl of Bute at every turn.
'Bolton, a lady's good name is at stake,' the earl said.
'Has nothing to do with me' was the reply.
Lord Shelley and Sir Roger stood up and came forward.
'Both Percy and I saw you quite plainly,' Sir Roger said.
