A Matter Of Delicacy

The Heist

     This all felt horribly familiar. Here I was pressed against the same tree outside Carlton House that I had climbed only two days ago, Mother Quinn's words from this morning running through my head, much like her warning from Vauxhall Gardens had the last time I had been here. It was nine o'clock, and while the road outside Carlton House was busier than I'd want it to be, I could rely on most of the nobles, Lord Lynton in particular, to be midway through dinner with the Prince Regent. His rooms, at least, would be empty.
     I felt in my pocket for the decoy letter. It was blank inside, with only a passable copy of Sarah's signature on the back. It had felt like a further betrayal to sneak into Sarah's bedroom at Montagu House and copy it from a letter I had found on her desk. As if breaking into her husband's apartment and stealing his Seal of Office wasn't bad enough, I had violated her own privacy to do it. I didn't know how she'd react if she found out - I was hoping that she never would.
     Straightening the sensible coat I had borrowed from Lady Bruce's ladies maid I strode towards the back servants' entrance of Carlton House, and rapped on the wooden gate to the courtyard. A slat in the side door opened and a guard poked his head out.
     'Yes?'
     'Miss Babbage, here for Lady Grinstead.'
     'Who?'
     'Miss Babbage, I'm with Doctor Gates. He sent me to treat her ladyship's ... condition.' I pursed my lips and glanced away, hoping the guard would put two and two together.
     'I don't know no Miss Babbage.'
     I cursed inwardly, how hard was this man going to make it for me? 'Doctor Gates usually sees his patients at his practice, but what with the delicacy of Lady Grinstead's condition he thought it would be prudent for me to attend to her in her own bed..... Some lady's get like that sometimes.'
     Still nothing. I clenched my fists against my side and went in for the kill, 'of course I could just send for him to join me, although if her ladyship's bleeding has been this heavy for so many days she may feel more comfortable-'
     'Oh Jesus, alright alright, go on.' The guard opened the door and waved me through, a sick expression on his face. I thanked him politely and hurried through to the servant's quarters, sniggering to myself at the constantly reliable aversion of men to women's bodily functions. It worked every time. Ducking into a boot room off the main corridor I quickly stripped off the coat and bundled it behind a basket full of hunting blankets. Underneath I wore a lighter jacket, more reminiscent of a junior maid. I unpinned my dour hat and shoved it behind the basket as well, checking my hair looked neat and suitably servant-like. Satisfied that I looked passable I peeked out of the door and hurried to catch up with a scullery maid folding a pile of dusters at the end of the corridor.
     'Um, excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me?'
     The girl looked at me askance, 'who are you? How did you get in?'
     'I work for the Duchess of Devonshire, at Montagu House, I've got a message for the Duke.' I held the fake letter like it was a piece of the True Cross.
     She nodded, 'I'll fetch his valet, he'll take it up.'
     'No!' I reached for her arm, 'please, I was told to put it directly on his desk myself, by Her Grace. She said it was a 'matter of extreme delicacy.'' Please believe me, I thought.
     The maid looked around nervously. 'We're not supposed to go upstairs while dinner's being served, and they're only on the second course.'
     I clasped my hands together, hoping I looked the picture of domicile worry. 'I don't mind going on my own! I just need directions is all, I'll be quick as a flash.'
     Voices came from down the hallway and I saw a couple of footmen head upstairs with trays of steaming vegetables. The maid chewed at her lip. 'You'll get caught if you wander around, you don't have time for that. The valet always goes up straight after the cheese and port gets taken in, so it's all ready. If he catches you in there there'll be no amount of trouble.'
     I felt bad for making this girl panic, but she was right after all, if I wandered around aimlessly trying to find Lynton's rooms I'd be lost for hours. 'Please, I can't go back without delivering it. Her Grace was so worried about getting it to him she didn't even wait until the footman could take it, just sent me fast as I could.'
     The girl sighed and put the dusters down. 'Alright, I'll take you, but I'm not waiting for you, and you've got to be in and out straight away, you understand?'
     I nodded eagerly, 'thank you so much! I'm Kitty, by the way.'
     'Mary, but don't tell anyone it was me, if you get caught.'
     'Cross my heart.'
     She lead me up a set of set of stairs and down another corridor lined with shelves of glasses and silver plates and bizarre-looking soup tureens and platters and jugs of all shapes and sizes. It looked like Aladdin's cave. At the end we turned down yet another corridor and hurried towards the stairs at the end. We climbed for what seemed like hours, and my knee started throbbing again. I hadn't given it enough time to heal since I hurt it while chasing Beresford and Paulette after Vauxhall. Crashing down on it in chase, then climbing a tree, then dancing the night away and now climbing a million stairs. I needed ice and a rest, like there was any chance I'd get that in the near future.
     At the top of the stairs Mary shot me a warning glance and opened a small door that lead into a luxuriously carpeted hallway. She peeked around it then stepped out, hurriedly closing it behind me. The door was built into the elaborate wood panelling of the wall so you could barely see it when it was closed. I tried to memorise the paintings hanging on either side, so I could get out quickly.
     'Come on!' Mary hissed, already several metres down the hallway. I hurried after her and we skirted around a maze of opulent halls. First right, then left, then left again, past the huge vase of lilies, past four doors and then right again. Mary stopped by a tall door emblazoned with the Devonshire crest: a trio of deer heads on a black background, a crown above it. I knocked, hoping with every inch of myself that no one would answer.
     'Can you remember the way back?' Mary looked over her shoulder.
     'Yes, don't worry. And thank you so much.'
     She shot me a nervous look and nodded, hurrying away before I could say anything else.
     I knocked again and, when no one answered, tried the handle. It opened easily and quietly, and I slipped inside, closing it gently behind me.
     The Duke's apartment was beautifully decorated, with rich carpets and tall mirrors on several walls, candles glowing gently under glass globes. There were tall doors on either side of the room I'd entered into, no doubt leading to several rooms for entertaining, as well as the Duke's bedchamber, the valet's room, a dressing room and a bathroom. Where was the study?
     I took one of the small lamps and tried one of the doors, it lead onto a sitting room much like the first, but with a card table and a collection of small sofas. I went through and tried the next door, it lead to a smaller hallway, with four smaller doors leading off it. Cursing to myself at how large this bloody house was I tried the first door. It didn't budge.
     'Dammit,' I hissed to myself and tried the next one. Also locked. The third opened to a bathroom that smelt strongly of cedarwood and jasmine, with various bottles lined along a shelf and an ornate claw-footed bathtub. But the fourth door was like the first and second, leaving me stranded in a cul-de-sac of locked doors.
     Right, think Katherine. You don't have much time, which door do you prioritise?
     If one of these rooms was the bathroom, the other three had to be the Duke and Valet's bedrooms and the dressing room. The Duke would see petitioners and business associates in his study; he wouldn't want them crossing past his bathroom to get there. No, it wasn't down here.
     Turning on my heel, I hurried back through the smaller sitting room and across the entry chamber. The door on the other side held firm against my shove, and I felt the prickle of excitement in my stomach. Dropping to my knees I pulled my lockpicks out of my pocket and got to work, pressing my ear against the door to hear the mechanisms shift against the sharp picks.
     Come on, come on, come on!
     There was a firm click and the lock slid back into place. 'Yes!' I pushed through and into the Duke's study. It was dark, the only glow coming from my lamp. Wood panelled all the walls and it smelt of old leather and port and important men. I shut the door behind me and hurried over to the desk, rifling through papers and opening drawers and boxes, searching everywhere for the Seal.
     There. It was tucked inside a velvet-lined box inside the side drawer, much smaller than I thought it would have been. It rested in the palm of my hand, a heavy metal seal with a deep imprint of the Devonshire crest on the base. The handle was well-worn, generations of family history in this one object.
     I needed to go. Time was running out. How long had I been here? I dug around in my pockets again and found my magic weapon. Mother Quinn may have told me to steal the Seal, but it had taken me all day to figure out how to steal it without someone finding it gone within hours. At most, I would have had until morning before Lynton or his valet or secretary alerted the court of its disappearance, and then anything Mother Quinn wanted to do with it would be invalidated. I needed to steal it, and leave it here at the same time.
     I grinned to myself, despite everything. Out of my pocket, I pulled a chunk of clay I'd hacked out of the sodden banks of the Thames. It was cold and clammy in my hands, and I had to massage it firmly to warm it, making it pliable and soft. Moving quickly, I pressed the seal firmly into it and held it until the wax went hard again.
     Please work, God, please work.
     After a full minute passed I pulled the seal out and stared, triumphant, at the solid and clear indentation of the Devonshire crest in its surface. It was perfect.
     'Right, time to go.' I muttered to myself, stuffing the seal back into its box and closing the drawer firmly. It took longer than I wanted to lock the study door behind me, and by the time I was out of the apartment altogether, I could hear loud and booming voices coming up the stairs from the nobility leaving dinner. Many would head straight to bed, and I knew enough about Lynton and his drinking to think he may just be one of them. Trying hard to remember the route Mary had shown me, I headed back down the hallway, turned left, past four doors and the large vase of lilies, right, right again, down a long hallway and then left. The hidden door had been left cracked a tiny bit open, just enough to see the shadow stretching across the wood panelling.
     Thank you Mary, I thought, as I slipped through and closed it firmly behind me. I sagged against it and tried to breathe deeply, my heart hammering at a dozen miles an hour. I'd done it. I'd done it, and not been caught. Now I just needed to get out and get home.
     The servants quarters were bustling with people, footmen bussing empty plates and glasses down from the dining room, scullery maids up to their elbows in soapy water, scrubbing away smears of whatever decadent meal the lords and ladies, dukes and duchesses, marquises and Prince Regent had eaten today. The butler was hounding more footmen with trays of port glasses and large decanters of rich wine. Ladies maids were hurrying upstairs with armfuls of clean linens and candles, or trays of warm herbal tea. Carlton House is readying for an evening of bed or drinking.
     I tucked my head down and scuttled through the masses of people towards the back corridor, looking out for the boot room where I had stowed my coat and hat. I'd come so far, it had gone pretty smoothly until now. It would be stupid to mess it all up now just for a forgotten hat.
     I picked up the pace, and rounded the corner only to slam straight into someone coming in the opposite direction.
     'Good God, girl, watch where you're going!' A young woman snapped at me, bending to pick up the scattering of things she'd dropped.
     'Terribly sorry Miss!' I dropped down help her, risking a quick glance up at the lady.
     I froze. I knew that severe expression, that strong nose, that decorative braiding of hair. It was Miss Kingsley, Princess Charlotte's governess. She frowned as she reached for a handkerchief, a posey of lavender and daisies, and a lacey reticule that had jangled when it fell.
     Surely not. Surely this chance hadn't just dropped onto my lap.
     I hurried to pick the bag up before she reached for it, deliberately fumbling it and dropping it again.
     'Careful with that!'
     'Sorry Miss!' I handed it over and she scowled at me, brushing past with not more than a huff. I waited till she had moved far enough away not to see as I slipped a ring of three keys up my sleeve.
     Dear God, for whatever good deed you're rewarding me for with this luck, trust me I'm grateful. I grinned to myself and hurried off to the boot room, locking the door behind me. Digging the chunk of clay out of my pocket, I used a boot scrape to slice off the end with the Devonshire Seal embedded in it, and wrapped it in a scrap of cloth left on the bench. The remaining clay would barely be enough for all three keys, so I warmed it in my hand and flattened it into as wide a disk as I could manage. Pressing the keys as deep as I dared, I prayed that Miss Kingsley was the kind of woman I thought she was, the one who would keep the key to her royal charge's bedroom with her at all times.
     Done. I wrapped the disc in cloth and stuffed both pieces into my pocket. Now to return the keys to the governess and hope she was none the wiser.
     The servants' corridor was still busy but I saw her standing at the other end, rifling in her reticule. Time was distinctly of the essence.
     'Miss!' I ran up to her, keeping my head dipped so she would hopefully only see me as a silly dark-haired maid and nothing more. 'So sorry Miss, you dropped these.'
     She seized them with such a cry of relief I knew I had been right. That imprint would get me into Rothwell House.
     What an evening.
     Before she could ask me any questions I moved off, collecting my coat and hat and slipping out the back door when the Housekeeper's back was turned. The guard had changed so I didn't even need to worry about keeping up my Miss Babbage charade. I just hopped through the door with a cheerful 'Good night!' and headed back towards Belgravia, hoping a passing fruit cart would let me ride part of the way. It was shaping up to be a pretty successful evening.

     An hour later, when I finally crept back into my room at Montagu House, ready for bed, I was surprised by a shriek, 'Kate! There you are!' Sarah jumped up from her perch on my bed and threw her arms around my neck. 'I haven't seen you all day, and Lady Bruce said you asked to borrow maid's uniform? Where have you been? It's so late!'
     'I'm alright, I promise. I just had to go and get something.'
     'You weren't going after them, were you? You're not in your right mind, Kate, you were so distracted yesterday. I was worried you were off to do something stupid.'
     I cringed to myself. I was, I thought. Just off breaking into your husband's room and stealing his mark of authority.
     'I wasn't, don't worry. Everything's fine.' I patted her arm and extracted myself before she could feel the solid parcel in my pocket.
     'So what was wrong yesterday? You were so quiet after the ball.' She shot me a sheepish look, 'I know I was a mess, I'm sorry. I just couldn't quite cope with the idea that Lynton might be involved with all this.'
     'It's alright, Sarah, I promise. I think he's aware of Beresford and Paulette's mission but he doesn't seem to have a hand in organising it.'
     'So who does? What did you see when you followed Beresford?'
     I pursed my lips, unwilling to tell her the full extent. It wouldn't be safe, I'd be putting her in danger if she knew exactly what I'd seen. 'I can't tell you, I'm sorry,' I put my hand up at her protest, 'but the less you know the better. You could help me work something out though. Do you know a man named Grenville? I saw him talking to the Prince at the ball and I can't remember meeting him at all.'
     'Grenville? Thin-faced man? Looks a bit like a mournful horse?'
     'That's him.'
     She shot me a strange look, 'Kate, William Grenville is the Prime Minister, how could you not know that?'
     I stared at her. That was William Grenville? How had I not put two and two together? It had been gloomy enough in the gardens that I hadn't seen much of his face, but there was only one Grenville who would plausibly be spending any meaningful time with the Prince Regent. That made this, potentially, an issue of government. The idea that the leader of the House of Commons had a hand in the attempted murder of the future Queen made me feel cold all over.
     'You're not saying he's involved too?!' Sarah held a hand to her mouth. 'Surely not.'
     I couldn't tell her. If this went wrong, her position was so much more vulnerable than mine. I could survive disgrace, she could not.
     'No, don't worry, he's not involved. I just saw them talking and figured I should know the face of anyone close to the Prince.'
     She gave me a long look and I forced a smile, 'Sarah, go to bed! Don't worry about me, everything's fine.'
     My words evidently did nothing to soothe her, because she just pursed her lips and took my hands gently in hers, 'Kate, I want you to know you can trust me, alright? I'd be heartbroken if anything happened to you, so please don't feel you need to keep all of this to yourself.'
     I tried to break in and reassure her but she carried on, 'I know you think I'm delicate, but I can handle it, I promise. You don't have to do all of this by yourself.'
     She was right, of course she was. But she was also so wrong. I just smiled and pulled her into another hug, this time squeezing tightly. The seal pressed into my thigh through my pocket, as if it was deliberately reminding me of my betrayal. She was my closest friend here, the only one who had gone out of their way to make me feel welcome and cared for. And here I was, stealing the very emblem of her family's duty and honour, while she reassured me that I could trust her. My heart hurt.
     'Right, enough of that.' She pressed my hand, her face blotchy and pink. 'It's time for bed I think. Goodnight lovely.'
     'Goodnight, and don't worry.'
     'I'll always worry, until you help me stop.' She blew me a kiss and left, leaving me in the gloom and guilt of my deception.