Charlotte bit her lip. “Lady Purfleet thinks that Robert and papa are going after her.”
“Good God! How did she end up thinking that? And is it true? Have you lost your minds and decided to poke a stick into a wasps’ nest? You must leave her well alone.”
“No!” cried Theodore. “We have not deliberately sought trouble. We want to let it lie but we know too much. We cannot explain ourselves to Lady Purfleet. You know how she is. Our only option is to bring Mrs Dymchurch to justice.”
Bamfylde shook his head, not understanding why at all. But he didn’t argue back or insist on more explanations. Instead, he said, “You do know that Mrs Dymchurch is clever, don’t you? If she knows that you know about her, then she knows you will go after her. She won’t wait to flee. She will go now.”
“She said she was going to be at the exhibition.” Charlotte suddenly gasped. “Bamfylde! It’s the opening night of your work!”
He laughed. “Yes, but I am hardly a guest of honour. It does not matter if I am there or not for I am a man of secrecy, am I not?” Then he grew serious again. “Mrs Dymchurch might go to the exhibition, or she might use this moment to make her escape. I think it’s more likely she flees.”
“No, wait!” Charlotte said, even more loudly than before, a note of panic now in her voice. “When I went to see her, after her public shaming but before she began to suspect us all, she told me about the exhibition and she mentioned some jewellery that was on display – a diamond necklace, some other things. She said they were hers by rights, from some family connection, and she sounded angry about it. I told you before, mama.”
Adelia leaped to her feet and Charlotte followed immediately. “She will steal them tonight,” Adelia said. “She is proud. She’ll take what she believes is hers.”
Theodore snorted. “Dear heart, I admire your enthusiasm but it will be far too busy for such an audacious crime to be committed.”
“Exactly. There will be dozens of people but they will all be looking at the paintings. No, they will all be looking at one another. No one comes to these events to look at the art – sorry, Bamfylde, but you know that it’s true. If she is as clever as you say, she’ll try for it tonight. At any other time, security will be looking at the jewels. Tonight, in the crush, they will be overlooked. Is it all well secured?”
“If it’s the stuff I think it is, not particularly,” Bamfylde said. “It’s in a glass case in the back room but most people will be in the main part of the gallery.”
“And there will be noise, and music, and the smashing of glasses from time to time – it is perfect!” said Adelia. “And consider this, too; she knows how to commit crimes. She knows more than we can imagine. She was at Digby Nettles’ right hand! She must have seen how he conducted his own trade in misdirection and theft. She has already proved to us that she can pay servants off and bribe them to her own ends. Surely she has the wit to do that with any security guards at the gallery tonight.”
“Good Heavens!” Theodore snatched the wine and gulped down a large draught of it. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get to the gallery at once!”
Twenty-five
The gallery was crushed with people. It may have been put about that it was to be an “exclusive” sort of affair but of course, the city was still packed with those who were considered the cream of society. Even Grace, the Dowager Countess, was there and she spotted them as soon as they all entered. She swanned over to them. No one was looking at the paintings, as predicted; anyway, it was impossible to step back far enough to give the art the consideration that it deserved.
But Adelia could tell, even from her glances between the moving figures of the crowd, that Lord H was a talented painter.
That Bamfylde was a talented painter. The painting she had first seen at Lady Purfleet’s party had not been a one-off. He had a sustained gift.
“Have we missed the speeches?” Bamfylde asked, and Grace was shocked. She gasped aloud. She hadn’t noticed him as he came in behind the other four of them, and it took her a moment to recognise her own grandson.
It was the very first time that Adelia had seen Grace utterly lost for words.
“Never mind about those,” Theodore said. “Who is here?”
“Everyone is here,” Grace said, only the hint of a stammer in her voice as she fought for her usual equilibrium. Adelia admired the way she got control of herself. “And everyone is quite drunk, though they have been that way since Christmas Eve.” She stared again at Bamfylde. Maybe she suspected that they were all drunk too, and possibly raddled with opium.
“Have you seen Lady Purfleet? Mr Wiseman? Mrs Dymchurch?”
“Ugh,” said Grace at the mention of Lady Purfleet’s name. “She has been around. She’s clever enough to be seen, while making it appear that she is in fact retiring in the shadows and not being seen at all. I’d admire her if I had any inclination to do so. Which I do not. Mr Wiseman I know nothing about; I am not sure I’d recognise him. As for Mrs Dymchurch, I cannot say that I’ve seen her myself, but I have heard her name uttered a few times. That said, she is something of an object of gossip; she’d be bold to show her face here tonight.”
“She does not lack for boldness,” Adelia told her. “She will be here. Now here is your nemesis approaching,” she added, with a cold feeling. And our nemesis too, she thought. She grabbed Grace’s arm and put her mouth to Grace’s ear.
