Wedding In Springtime(34)

Marchford graced her with another smile. "You are a clever one, Miss  Rose. If you could pass along my apologies for tea? Tell my grandmother I  told you I was feeling ill."

"As you wish," said Penelope, standing to leave.

"Oh, I almost forgot. This arrived for you." Marchford reached for something in his inside coat pocket.

"Thank you." Penelope took the letter he handed her. It was address to  her, but other than originating from London, it had not return address  or information. She broke the seal quickly, curiosity overtaking her.  One glance inside told her she must read this particular letter in  private. "I think I shall take a moment to rest and read my letter in  peace."

If he had hoped her to explain the letter, he accepted her silence and  merely bowed in response. Penelope proceeded upstairs to her room to  open the mysterious letter without prying eyes. There was another sealed  letter inside the first one. The letter within was addressed to Madame  X.

***

"Why, George, whatever is the matter?" Genie frowned into her brother's  formerly playful eyes. They had a dull appearance now. She took his hand  and drew him to sit with her near the window of Hookham's Lending  Library.

"Nothing is the matter. This has been a great lark." He rubbed his tired eyes with his hand.

"You look dreadful. Have you slept at all since we last spoke?"

"Been having too much fun to sleep," said George.

"It does not look like you have been having any fun at all," retorted Genie.

"Shows what you know. Some things are not meant for a girl. Turns out I  have a knack for cards," he said proudly, puffing out his chest.

"Cards! Please do not tell me you have been gambling away your school money, George."

"All right, I won't tell you. I didn't ask you here to quarrel but to  give you this." He handed her a small box. Inside were two twinkling,  emerald earbobs.

"George! These are beautiful!"

"I thought they would look nice with your coloring," said George like he had been living in Town all his life.

"Why, yes, yes, they will. Thank you so much." Genie gave George a warm hug. "But how could you possibly afford them?"

"Like I said, I have had a run of good luck. The cards love me!"

"Father and Mama would not approve of you gambling."

"They would not approve of me losing money, but you see, I'm winning money. I cannot lose!"         

     



 

"I do not think that is exactly what they meant by not approving of gambling."

"I told you I wanted to do something to help you. I have seen the way so  many of these ladies dress, all flash and sparkle. I know you haven't a  single earbob from Mama, so I thought your baby brother could come to  your aid."

"Thank you, George, now please go to sleep." She could not help but feel concern over his gray complexion.

"Yes, Genie," he said with puppy dog eyes.

"And go back to school."

"One more night tonight and then I'll go."

Genie gave her brother another big hug.

Outside the window, Grant snapped the reins and drove off in his phaeton. He had seen enough.

***

Penelope glanced around her bedroom to ensure she was alone. The outside  letter was a note asking her to direct this letter to Madame X and no  one else (this last part was underlined). Inside was another sealed  letter with the simple direction, Madame X. No signature accompanied the  missive and no identifying marks were given. She examined the  handwriting, but she did not know it. She turned the letter in her  hands, wondering what to do.

Of course there was no Madame X, except herself and the dowager. She  wondered if she should turn the letter over to the dowager but stopped,  pondering why the letter had been addressed to her in the first place.  It seemed more reasonable if someone was trying to connect with Madame X  that they would ask the dowager, so why was the note addressed to  Penelope? Only one way to find out.

Penelope broke the seal. When she unfolded the paper, a hundred-pound  note fluttered to the floor. She stared at it as if it might jump up and  bite her. She scooped it up quickly and read the note.

Dear Madame X,

I write you for I am greatly distressed and do not know where to turn  for help. I have accepted an offer of marriage that is not of my  parents' choosing. Unfortunately, I am already officially betrothed to  another. How can I break this long-standing marriage contract and wed  the man I choose?

I have included a small deposit. If you choose to help, please send me advice through Mrs. Roberts at 7 Chandos Street, London.

Sincerely,

Desperate

Pen read the letter again and again. Who was this "Desperate" character?  And who was Mrs. Roberts and how had she heard about Madame X? No, Pen  could guess the answer to the second question. She had overheard Lady  Bremerton whisper to the Comtesse de Marseille that she had retained the  help of an infamous matchmaker, Madame X. The news must have spread.

Penelope thought about the situation for a while, then composed a  response. She rubbed the crisp hundred-pound note between her fingers.  She had never felt one before. There must be a rationale that would  allow her not to tell the dowager but still keep the money, but alas she  could not think of one. Whoever "Desperate" was, she had gone to great  lengths to prevent the dowager from reading her letter, and Penelope was  determined to find out why.

With a longing glance, she folded the hundred-pound note back into the  letter and sealed it, addressing it simply to "Desperate." She then  wrapped it in a second paper and sealed it also, addressing it to the  mysterious Mrs. Roberts.

Penelope put the letter in a book to conceal it and walked downstairs to  rejoin the dowager. Tomorrow, Pen planned an outing. This letter would  not be franked; no, this letter she planned to deliver to Mrs. Roberts  herself.





Twenty-two


"I am looking for Mrs. Roberts. Can you direct me?" Penelope Rose asked  the young man at the apothecary. The day after she received the  mysterious missive, she followed the direction in the letter to a  storefront in a nicer part of Town. The sign on the door said "Dr.  Roberts" and inside there was an apothecary with rows and rows of  bottles on the wall behind a smart young man in an apron at the counter.

"No Mrs. Roberts here, ma'am. Just a Dr. Roberts."

"Perhaps Dr. Roberts has a wife or a mother?" suggested Penelope.

"No, ma'am."

"Are you sure? I received a letter from a Mrs. Roberts and I am looking for her."

"No, ma'am. No missus and both of Dr. Roberts's parents are deceased, ma'am. God rest their souls."

"Yes, quite so," answered Penelope absently. This was not the answer she  expected. She wanted to find this Mrs. Roberts, but apparently she did  not exist.

"Can you tell me something of Dr. Roberts? Has he been in practice long?"

"Dr. Roberts is a fine gentleman physician, ma'am. Best in London. He  has been called to treat the queen and other notable persons. He is  quite well known."

"I have never heard of him."         

     



 

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but it is not the healthy who need the doctors."

The sound of laughing and murmuring of happy conversation floated down from above.

"The doctor is seeing a patient," explained the lad at the counter.

More laughter could be heard. "I do not remember my visits with the  doctor being so diverting," said Penelope under her breath. "I would  like an appointment. May I see him next?" asked Penelope.

"Oh no, he is far too busy. He only accepts certain cases."

Penelope opened her mouth to argue, but the door upstairs opened at that moment and out walked Lady Louisa.

"Thank you very much, Dr. Roberts," she said in more sober tones. "My mother will appreciate your advice."

"Please let me know if I can be of any greater assistance," said the  doctor. He was a young man, handsome and tall. His features were  pleasing and his eyes were dancing and bright. If he were to be the  physician, Penelope would hardly mind being sick.

"Dr. Roberts," called the man behind the counter. "This young lady was  looking for a Mrs. Roberts. Do you know who she is talking about?"

Louisa froze, recognizing Penelope. Louisa appeared to grow visibly  pale, but the impression lasted but a moment. With crisp determination,  Louisa continued down the stairs.

"You are looking for Mrs. Roberts?" The doctor followed Louisa down the stairs, his brows knit together.

"I have a letter for her," said Penelope.

"I can take that," said the doctor briskly.

"Is she here? I would like to deliver it myself."

"No, no, she is … " Dr. Roberts glanced at the lad behind the counter,  then at Louisa. "A cousin. She is a cousin of mine. She will arrive  soon. I will see that she receives it."

"Forgive me, but I have been given very particular instructions to hand this to no one but Mrs. Roberts herself."