The Counterfeit Lady by Kate Parker

Author:Kate Parker [Parker, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780425266618
Google: BZwlAgAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0425266613
Barnesnoble: 0425266613
Goodreads: 18693940
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2013-12-31T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

AFTER I gave final instructions on how to run the bookshop in my absence for the fifth time, I asked Frances, “Does your family have any problem with you leaving for the entire day every day?”

“Don’t worry, Georgia. My son is too busy to notice and his wife is happy I’m not there to interfere with running the hotel. She’s stopped mentioning how nice it would be if I moved to her family’s farm.” Frances patted my arm. “We’ll be fine.”

“Grace, any sign of Lord Barnwood returning soon?”

“My employer refuses to set foot in London until this heat wave ends. So hurry back. We’ll miss you, and we’re more than willing to share this weather. You know how misery loves company.” She laughed as she fanned herself with her hand and left to wait on a customer.

“Georgia, go. Sir Broderick is phoning us daily to make sure we have everything we need, and Archivist Society members are stopping by at odd moments to run errands and lift boxes. The shop will be fine.”

I gave her a brave smile, but inside, I didn’t want to leave. “Thank you. All of you.”

I tried to linger, but Emma dragged me out of the shop. She led me back yet another route to the town house for a cold lunch in the large, gloomy dining room. The furniture was dark wood and the walls were papered in a washed-out rose on a charcoal background. The lace curtains blocked any sunlight that might have cut through the dimness. The room matched my mood.

“More calls today?” I asked Phyllida.

“No one would be home. Along with the rest of what’s left of polite society in London, we’re going shopping on Regent Street and Piccadilly. And we’ll need to take Emma with us to carry packages.”

“And the money will come from where?” I couldn’t afford a shopping spree on Regent Street. Those shops were well out of the size of my purse. And I needed to question people, not look through store windows, so I could return to my own shop.

“The duke has set up an account in my name at various businesses. There will be no trouble about it.”

“Phyllida, he’s coming by tonight to take me to Blackford House. Alone. I suspect there’ll be trouble tomorrow.” I was tired, hot, and upset. I was not in the mood to pretend to have an affair. I would either leap into bed with him or scratch his eyes out. Possibly both.

“Georg—ina,” Phyllida said, stopping herself at the last moment from calling me by my real name, “the duke is a gentleman. Relax.”

I’d dealt with the duke before. I was not about to relax.

“We have lots of stops to make. Milliners, glovers, parasol makers, shoemakers, hosiers, jewelers, perfumers. All places where we will be seen, and where we can watch anyone we want to keep an eye on. All for the price of a pair of hose.”

She smiled, and I realized I had a lot to learn to play my role convincingly.

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