14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Lord Fredrick’s Little Cherub

F red sent a missive to Lord Herbert asking him to meet Fred at the Savory Coffee House . He had ridden Mercury through Rotten Row before he went to The Savory Coffee House , located close to the modiste at No.77 Piccadilly. He enjoyed the Savory . The four horsemen never worried when they stopped there to eat. The food was always good and they had excellent ostlers to care for customers’ horses and carriages.

John arrived, spotted Fred in the restaurant, and sat down. “I thought this was my ‘to do’.”

“I read those letters and wanted to speak with you about them.”

“I thought you would be gone until tomorrow, late.”

“Yes. I completed my business and decided I wanted to sleep in my own bed. Do you as well?” Fred asked. It sounded as if he needed validation.

“I prefer my bed. When I travel, it takes me a day or two to sleep. I prefer my bed and bedchamber. Inn beds can be subpar.” John shrugged. “That is the way I am.” That made Fred feel better. That had to be the reason for his being so anxious to be home. It was most assuredly not due to his anxiety over some emerald-eyed innocent who had rocked his world.

They ordered, Fred paid the bill, then they rode to Madame Green’s Créations Exquises . John had the evening gown. “I hope it is in decent shape when we go in. I would hate the gown to be all wrinkled. It is lovely.”

“Hopefully, once it is hung up, the wrinkles will relax. Who is to tell?” Honestly, Fred doubted it. They tied their horses in front of the shop and went in intending to speak with Madame Green. It would not be too imposing to introduce themselves and ask a few questions. They walked through the door and looked around. There were fabrics of all types and colors, lace of all kinds, thread, and fashion plates throughout the shop.

John held the gown in his hands while Fred looked around at the layout of the shop. A friendly-faced, chubby little lady with carrot-red hair approached and took the gown from him.

“This needs to be hung, my lord. This is the finest silk we carry. I would be remiss to see it damaged before someone wore it.” She smiled up at John to express that she certainly had not chastised him. “Now, may I ask how it is that you came in possession of this gown, my lord.”

“First, allow me to introduce my comrade and myself. This is Lord Fredrick Windham.” She curtsied to Fred. “And I am Lord Jonathan Herbert. We would appreciate speaking with the madame that designed this gown.”

The chubby little lady with the cherubic face giggled. “I designed that dress, my lords.”

“I apologize, I failed to get your name?” Fredrick asked politely.

“Miss Christopher, my lord.” She gave another little giggle.

“Ah, yes. You have designed some beautiful gowns for Lady Muriel McDonnell, now Lady Muriel Claymont, Ladies Margaret Maxwell, and Helen Green, correct?”

“Yes, my lord. You know them, so you have seen my work.” She shyly twisted her body from side to side. “They are wonderful ladies and a joy to design for, my lord.”

John, ready to get to the point. “I…,” John looked over at Fredrick. “or we have come to ask questions about that beautiful gown you designed.” John nodded toward the gown. “Could you tell us about the person who purchased the gown?”

The little cherub put her hands together and took a breath. She glanced toward the back of the store and then began. “A bit of an awkward situation, my lords. A woman came into the shop, probably three or four months ago. Maybe longer.” She gave the two a bit of a nervous smile. “That day, I think Madame Green had a regular customer she had been speaking with, an aristocrat. Immediately, Madame Green,” Miss Christopher stepped closer to the front door and John and Fred noticed the volume of her voice dropped considerably, “Madame Green told the woman to leave. The lady told Madame Green she had money and needed a gown for her daughter.” The cherub, again, looked toward the back of the store, “Madame Green yelled at her and told her to get out or she would have her thrown out.” She looked toward the back again. “Could we step outside for a minute, my lords?” she nervously asked.

“Of course.” John walked to the front door and held it open for her and Fred. They stood on the walkway, waiting for her to continue her story.

“Could we stand over by the horses? It will look like we are discussing these beautiful creatures if you please?” In the sun, Miss Christopher’s face had an overall red tint to it, and with her hair pulled back in a chignon, she did look so much like a cherub. “The poor woman looked so sad, defeated. As she started out the door, she turned to look at the modiste and spoke just above a whisper, ‘I have money.’ I felt so bad for the woman. She walked out the door and looked like she had wiped tears from her face.

When she looked back, I silently signaled for her to come in through the back. Luckily, she understood me because, after a few minutes, she knocked on the back door. She appeared cold. I apologized for Madame’s behavior and asked exactly what she wanted. She said she planned or hoped her daughter would be going to a ball. She said, ‘My baby deserves to go to a ball and shine. She is a beautiful young lady. Not at all like me.’ She said, ‘My daughter thinks that I – ‘, then she stopped and said it hardly mattered. She wanted her daughter to have something beautiful.” The little cherub pulled a handkerchief out of her dress pocket and wiped her nose. “My heart went out to the woman. She told me after she had her daughter, she worked as a seamstress; working long hours for little pay. She tried but could not make ends meet plus had little time to spend with her lovely baby girl. So she found another job that paid a lot more, but, she paused and said, sometimes evil people try to hurt the good people in this world. She stopped talking and we stood facing each other. I wanted to wait until she began to speak again. She finally said that she would never let anyone hurt her little girl. She sounded very much like she was talking more to herself. I had no idea what she meant when she said she wished her daughter to come to no harm.” It appeared the little cherub was truly an angel. She wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, my lords, it is simply that she seemed so pitiful and loved her daughter so much.” She petted the horse and said. “Oh, I forgot. She said something about her daughter finally being able to have a family. I think She said no one would stop her daughter from being happy. She did not explain and I did not ask.”

“Did she say where she got the money to pay for such a gown?” John asked.

“She made sure to tell me several times that she had money. She said it was honest, hard-working money. The woman put so much into the meaning of the gown…as her daughter’s chance to have a better life than she ever had. She had her daughter’s measurements. When I asked if her daughter could come in for a fitting, she seemed to shrivel. ‘No, no, no.’ she said. She quickly composed herself and said that her daughter lived at a very fine boarding school and would never be able to come. When I asked her what her daughter would do if the gown failed to fit. The woman said that she thought someone at her school could alter the gown.”

Fredrick put his hand on the little cherub’s arm. “You are a kind person and chivalrous to accept this woman’s business when others,” and nocked his head toward the store, “refused to assist the woman.” Fred led the cherub and John toward the back of the horses and placed himself so that they had their backs to the store. “Did she happen to tell you what school her daughter attended, perchance?”

“I’m sorry my lords, if I may be so bold, what is the reason for these questions?” The heavenly cherub asked, almost apologetically.

Fred anguished to tell her, but it seemed necessary. “Will you trust me to give me your hands?”

She looked into his face and smiled. “Yes, my lord. I trust you.”

“I’m so sorry. I must tell you that the woman that purchased the gown – “

“Oh, God.” She cried. Her knees began to bend. Fredrick anticipated that, so he quickly moved his hands to her elbows.

“Miss Christopher. Please look at me. Will you?” Fred treated the little cherub so gently.

Tears fell down her face. “Yes…My lord.” She sobbed. “That poor woman. She had such a love for her daughter. I wondered many a night what that withered-looking woman had to do to make the money to purchase such a gown.” Fred continued to hold the cherub up. “I would have never told her. She had the money in a little reticule. She wanted to pay for the gown before I started on it to prove that she had the money.” She sniffed. and looked up at Fred. “My lord, I’m fine on my feet now.” Fred reluctantly released her. She wiped her eyes and her nose. Fred reached into his topcoat and gave his kerchief to her. “Thank you, my lord. I will wash it and return it.”

“No need. You said, ‘You would have never told her.’ You would have never told her what?”

“I made the dress and only charged for most of the material. The money she so proudly gave me would never have paid for the full cost of the gown. I would never have said anything to hurt her or cause her to do something worse than she probably already did to make the extra money. It only cost a little material and time – mine and my seamstress. It cost nothing, not really.” She took a breath and wiped her nose. “I have never felt so sorry for anyone the way I felt for her. I feel good that I made her daughter that beautiful gown. I hoped…oh, gosh, and now, she’s…gone.”

“Yes, Miss Christopher. And we must find her daughter.” John felt pained to share the death of Glenda with the little lady. This conversation collected no information on the location of Glenda’s daughter, but they received more insight into Glenda’s character besides how she earned her money.

“Miss Christopher, we want to thank you for your kindness to the little woman who bought that beautiful gown for her daughter, and for the information you provided. Now, allow me to escort you back into the shop. And, of course, we must get the gown.” Fred took her elbow and led her back into the shop.

“Might there be something you could use to cover the gown during the ride back to the townhouse?” John made the request, then felt almost guilty for asking it of her.

“Yes, my lord. I think that I can wrap it well enough to get the gown safely home.” She gave John and Fredrick a humble smile.

An older woman came out from the back. “Where have you been?” Her voice, less than pleasant.

“And you would be?” Fred's gaze hardened as he looked at the woman.

“I’m the owner of this shop, Madame Green. And you?” She asked rather abruptly.

“I would be the Marquess of Shropshire, Lord Fredrick Windham and this is my comrade, the 8th Earl of Powis, Lord Jonathan Herbert.”

She instantly humbled herself. “I’m honored to have you in my humble shop.” She should have been able to give a finer curtsy, especially working with the aristocracy. “Did Miss Christopher sufficiently assist you, my lords?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I’m quite impressed with her and her designs. I know that the Marquess of Stafford and the Earl of Egremont both shop here and use Miss Christopher exclusively. I would hate for you to lose her.” Fredrick shot his cuffs for emphasis, then flicked his fingers over some invisible lint.

“Oh course, Monsieur.” She nodded.

“Excuse me?” He said with a tone of insult. “Lord Windham.”

“Yes, of course. Please pardon me, Lord Windham.” Fred could see her beginning to tremble. “Is there anything else that I may help you with?”

“We are waiting on the gown we purchased from Miss Christopher.”

“Oh, I will check on that immediately.” And she scurried off toward the back of the shop.

“You enjoyed that, did you not?” John knew the answer. He did agree. The ole bat deserved it.

“She is a shrew. I hate to see that little cherub working for the likes of her.” Fred started looking around at the shop again. He walked around, felt the materials, and noticed the lady’s magazines and plates of gown designs. “How many square feet do you think this room is?” He asked as he shouldered his way through the rows of material.

“Oh, Fredrick, please. You and Martin are ridiculous. You can’t take on every orphan.”

“Jonathan – I am only curious. If a person could rent a space cheaply or even better if a person could buy a building cheaply, stock it, and advertise accordingly, what do you think the total cost would be?”

“Fredrick! I’m good with numbers but I refuse to participate in this lark. No, Fred.”

The little cherub walked out from the back with the gown folded over her arm, the shrew fast on her heels. “What percentage do you take from Miss Christopher’s sales?” Once again, Fred gave the shrew a hard stare, startling her with such a question.

“My lords, I don’t – “ The cherub tucked her head, and held her hands so tight Fred could see her knuckles were white.

“It is a simple question, is it not? What do you take?” Fred stared at her, not moving, waiting for an answer.

“It depends, my lord.” She tentatively looked at Miss Christopher.

“Pushaw, Miss Verde. What percentage?”

She spoke, barely audible. “Eighty percent.”

“Good heavens, woman. How is it you are able to keep an employee such as Miss Christopher when you take that much?” He took off his gloves. “Miss Christopher, how much do I owe you for the gown?”

The little cherub looked confused. “But, my lord, the gown is paid for.”

“Yes, so it is. Miss Verde, can employees accept tips?”

“Well, I suppose. Yes, they could.” The shrew looked confused.

“Would you assume to take a percentage of a tip?” Fred asked, still staring at the shrew who shook her head indicating ‘no’. “I suppose I don’t need to get your response in writing, do I?”

“Of course not, my lord. I am an honest businesswoman.”

“Well, that is up for debate.” He looked back at the cherub. “Miss Christopher, would you come here for a moment?” The little cherub walked up to Fred with her cherubic smile and looked up at him. “Now, hold out your hand.” She giggled.

“Yes, my lord.” Fred wondered the reason for the giggling, but it was too cute to question.

“Here, take this, put it in your pocket along with the kerchief, and do not look at it until you return home. Do you understand?”

“Y – yes, my lord.” Fred watched her slip the money into her pocket.

“And Miss Verde, you will not coerce her to discover what I have given her, will you?”

“No, my lord.”

“Well, Miss Christopher, it has certainly been an extreme pleasure to work with you. I hope to see you in the near future. Now, will you hand me the gown?” The cherub reached for the gown she had hung on a rack, folded it, and handed it back to John. “And, Miss Christopher, here is my card. If you ever need anything,” Fred looked at the shrew. “anything at all, please do not hesitate to contact me.”

“Thank you, my lords. I hope you both have a lovely day,” said the little cherub.

“Thank you, please come again, any time. We will be happy to assist you.” Called the shrew as Fred and John walked out the door.

John smiled at Fred as he untied his horse. “You certainly put the shrew through her paces. Although I must admit, she deserved it.”

“I thoroughly enjoyed it.”

“How much did you give the little cherub? Knowing you, it had to be a healthy amount. Come, admit it.”

“I will only admit that I liked the little cherub. She has a good heart.” They mounted and turned the horses toward home. “I want you to come to the townhouse. I went through all the letters and separated them. John, the more I read through those letters, the more my heart broke for Little Stevie girl. We must find her. We are going into a fortnight and still have no idea where she is. That worries me.”

They reached Fredrick’s townhouse and went in through the kitchen. “Come this way. The letters are in the study.” They went into the room. Jonathan eyed the letters, separated and stacked in piles. They walked to the table and John sat down. “Her mother feared for her safety. We need a break in this search.” Fred ran his hand through his hair, then looked around the room as if he were searching for an answer.

“I agree, Fred. It would be difficult to cope if something happened to her due to our lack of clues.” John pushed his fist down on one of the stacks. “I wish – “

“John, you may wish all you like. It does nothing to help find her.” Fred looked sullen.

“You are correct.” John looked at Fred in earnest. “I suppose you want me to be as heartbroken over her letters as you were.”

“No, I thought you might find something in the letters that I may have missed.”

“Alright.” John spied a small stack of kerchiefs on the corner of the table. “You best get more kerchiefs if you insist I read them all.”

Fred gave an ironic ‘ha’. “They were being laundered when I left. They are likely done by now.” Fred walked to his desk, picked up a handful of paperwork, and decided to get some business taken care of in his library while John read the letters.