The Forgery Furore by Marissa Doyle

Author:Marissa Doyle [Doyle, Marissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction & Fantasy, Historical, Romance
ISBN: 9781636320328
Publisher: Book View Cafe
Published: 2022-03-22T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

On Monday morning, the Lady Patronesses met in their comfortable room in King Street. Annabel had not had a chance to apprise Sally of their findings; Martin had had one of his bilious attacks yesterday and she had remained at home to care for him, reading Gulliver’s Travels to the three boys who had sprawled on his bed to listen.

Emily took the seat next to her. “Any luck?” she murmured.

“Some, I trust,” Annabel just had time to whisper back before Sally cleared her throat and said, “Shall we begin? Annabel, have you a report for us?”

Annabel took a deep breath—but before she could begin, Georgiana Bathurst leaned forward. “Sally, if I may speak?”

Sally blinked and glanced at Annabel with raised eyebrows. Annabel returned her look with a lifting of her shoulders to show her puzzlement. What did Georgiana mean to say? Had she learned something new about the vouchers—something she hadn’t had time to communicate to her and Frances?

“It is irregular not to permit the principal investigator to speak first—that is, assuming that what you have to say is relevant to the discussion for which we have gathered,” Sally replied to Georgiana.

“Oh, it’s quite relevant.” Georgiana rose from her chair, smoothing her skirt complacently as she did. “You see, I’ve found the forger.”

A few gasps were heard around the table. Annabel regarded Georgiana with confusion. “You have? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Georgiana turned to look at her. Her expression hardened. “Don’t play the innocent with me, Lady Fellbridge.” The use of her title felt like a little slap. “You know very well who the forger is…or rather, who she isn’t.”

“But it’s not a she,” Frances protested. “I’m quite sure it’s a he. I got a very masculine identity from both the vouchers.”

“Georgiana, I don’t have any idea of what you’re talking about.” Maria’s usually placid brow was furrowed. “Can you stop being so cryptic? Is there a forger or not?”

“Was your friend in on it?” Georgiana ignored Maria and instead pointed at Emily, her finger shaking with the force of her emotion. “Is that how you got us thinking about forgers? Very clever of you, to be sure, but not clever enough.”

“I am sorry. I was not aware that we would be enacting amateur theatricals at our meeting today,” Dorothea drawled. “I shall be Cleopatra, yes?” She stroked one of her curls.

The room was engulfed in a flood of exclamations and expostulation. Sally tapped her pencil sharply on the table’s edge, and when that had no effect, rose from her chair. “If everyone will be so good as to refrain from speaking?” When Sally used that tone of voice, she meant it. Everyone quieted, and she turned to Georgiana. “Very well. Georgiana, will you please speak plainly? Who is the forger?”

Georgiana moved her accusing finger from Emily’s astonished countenance to Annabel’s. “There is your forger! But there is no forgery going on. Why should she have to forge her own name in order to sell vouchers?”

This time, dead silence met Georgiana’s words.

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