Imposter Bride

by Patricia Simpson

  Last night, after a brief and wonderfully passionate lapse, he had reverted to the gentleman he was; she could not fault him for that. Still, her heart was heavy with disappointment that he kept her at arm’s length. She knew it was best for both of them that they remain uninvolved with each other. But her heart cried out for more, no matter how much she told herself she could not have him.

  More than ever, she would find it onerous to countenance the airs of the Earl of Blethin.

  When Sophie stepped off the stairs, she was met by Mrs. Betrus, who hobbled forward with a huge smile on her face.

  “Miss Hinds!” she exclaimed. “Good news!” She presented her with a folded and sealed paper. “Your grandmother has arrived in London!”

  “My grandmother?” Sophie stammered, not entirely prepared for the reality of leaving Captain Ramsay’s home, even though she knew her departure was inevitable. She accepted the note and broke the seal, trying to keep her hands steady.

  “Late last night, the boy said who delivered this.”

  Mrs. Betrus hovered at her elbow as Sophie scanned the large, flowery and extravagantly misspelled message.

  “She’s coming at eleven,” Sophie read. “She can’t wait to see me.”

  “At last!” Mrs. Betrus crowed. “I must get everything ready!”

  “The earl is coming, too.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “And the captain? Is he here?”

  “No, he left some hours ago.”

  “Does he know about my grandmother’s arrival?”

  “No. The message was just now delivered. She must have had trouble finding you.” Mrs. Betrus fluttered her hands. “Oh, to think Lady Auliffe is coming here! To this house!”

  “What is she like?”

  “That’s right, you’ve never met her, have you?”

  “No.”

  “Didn’t your mother ever speak of your grandmother?”

  “Hardly ever.” Sophie gave a small shrug while she thought of Katherine’s mother. “I don’t believe they got along.”

  “Well, your grandmother was one of the great beauties of her time. Dazzling.”

  “But she does not live in London?”

  “Not for years. She made a love match, you see—after the death of her first husband. Her second husband was a country gentleman, I’ve been told. Somewhat of an eccentric. And she was quite content to give up the social whirl for his company.”

  Sophie could understand such a choice. She would be content to spend her days and nights with Ian Ramsay, no matter where they lived, as long as they had their intimate evenings together.

  “Is her husband still alive?”

  “I don’t think so. But you’ll find all that out when you meet her. And my goodness, we must have Maggie pack your things. I’m sure your grandmother will want to take you with her.”

  A wave of dread swept over Sophie. She glanced down the hall to the front door. In an hour, she would either be bustled away to a brand new life or found out to be an imposter.

  Sophie turned for the stairs and felt the color drain from her face. Were her linen pockets safe? The buckle? In all the turmoil of the past evening, she had completely forgotten about it. Should she be forced to run for her life again within the next few hours, she must be prepared.

  “Please send Maggie up,” she said, forcing the pitch of her voice not to betray her disquiet. “I’ll oversee the packing.”

  Then she hurried up the stairs to secure her only important possession.

  Shortly after eleven, Lady Auliffe arrived with a footman in tow carrying two small terriers. As soon as he set them down, they scampered to Sophie, yapping and jumping up on their back legs, and twirling with each bark. She couldn’t help but laugh at their antics.

  “Go ahead and pet them, my dear,” Lady Auliffe said. “The little heathens won’t be quiet until you do.”

  Sophie squatted down, much like curtseying, her stays keeping her from bending over comfortably, and petted the dogs. They could barely contain themselves with joy. Mrs. Betrus watched from the doorway, beaming.

  “They like you,” Lady Auliffe announced. “Not that I am over confident of their judgment, mind you. And sometimes they nip at the most inappropriate times.”

  Sophie didn’t pull back her hand, sure the dogs wouldn’t harm her and guessing that her grandmother was testing her. “What are their names?” she asked gaily.

  “Neat and Tidy.”

  “Neat and Tidy?” Sophie repeated, amused by the odd names. They barked at her.

  “The one with the brown saddle is Neat.”

  “They are darling!”

  “My husband named them, the rascal. Don’t lay the blame for such idiocy at my doorstep.” Lady Auliffe sat upon the settee and grandly surveyed her, one hand on her cane, the other upon her thigh.

  Sophie rose and faced the older woman, getting a good look at her “grandmother” for the first time. Though Lady Auliffe must have been in her seventies, she retained a slender figure, unusually fine and straight. Under the expensive white wig and lace cap, her face was lined with many fine wrinkles, but her brown eyes burned with intelligence, and her chin was sharply defined, probably with obstinacy. She was the type of woman who likely still rode every day or at least walked great distances for her health, and a woman who had got her way for much of her life as well. She had also retained her teeth, which was nearly unheard of for a person of her advanced age.

  Sophie would have considered herself fortunate to claim the lineage of such a woman.

  Sophie kept her shoulders straight and her chin level as her grandmother critically surveyed her, and all the while her heart pounded in her chest so hard she thought the lace must be fluttering at her breast.

  “You’re a fine looking girl,” Lady Auliffe remarked.

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Frankly, I’m surprised.”

  Sophie paused, taken aback by her words.

  “I saw that look,” her grandmother said. “Do I shock you?”

  “A bit, ma’am.”

  “I make no bones about it, Katherine. Your mother was not much to look at.”

  Sophie nodded in agreement. Caroline Hinds had been a large woman, prone to an overabundance of facial hair late in her life, which she seemed to ignore. Perhaps her eyesight had failed with age as well, and she hadn’t been aware of her condition.

  “I never knew what your father saw in that woman.”

  Sophie kept her expression blank and moved toward the nearby chair, hoping she had passed the initial inspection. She sank to the seat. “Would you care for a cup of tea, ma’am?”

  “Never touch the stuff. But I would love a small glass of claret.”

  Surprised to find a woman drinking before noon, Sophie turned to Mrs. Betrus and relayed the request. Lady Auliffe tapped her thigh with her gloved fingertips and both dogs leapt into her lap. She petted them absently as she continued to talk.

  “Caroline’s lack of looks stemmed from her poor habits and her even poorer attitude. Nothing I could do could change that.” She gave a sigh. “I regret she felt it necessary to cut me off from my only family, but that was her choice. I believe it was her idea to buy that plantation in the West Indies.”

  Sophie didn’t know what to say. She’d never met a woman quite as frank as this.

  “You’re shocked, aren’t you? Don’t think I’m much of a lady to be saying such things?”

  Sophie paused for a moment, weighing her response. She had never been one to mindlessly echo the sentiments of another person, and her headstrong nature had often brought punishment down upon her. She decided that just because she was pretending to be someone else in appearance didn’t mean she had to take on a different personality. “To be honest, ma’am, your remarks do seem a bit unfeeling.”

  Lady Auliffe laughed outright. “Damn right, my dear! But there are some people one has feelings for, and some one doesn’t. I could never bring myself to pretend. And frankly, you
r mother and I had very little in common except for my son.”

  “I would imagine she never felt as if she could live up to your standards,” Sophie replied, “After all, I’ve heard you were quite a beauty.”

  “I was. But I worked for everything I got in life, Katherine. Did your mother ever tell you that?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. I was the daughter of a clergyman. Poor as a church mouse. With nothing but my looks and my mind to raise me from the gutter, I’m not ashamed to say. Your mother, on the other hand never had to raise a finger. Had every advantage money could buy. And what did she do with it? Nothing. My son could have been prime minister if she hadn’t carted him off to that God-forsaken place!”

  Sophie hoped Lady Auliffe would continue to fill in more blanks of the Hinds family history as she went. She took the tray from Mrs. Betrus and handed the glass of claret to her grandmother.

  “Thank you.” Lady Auliffe took a drink. Then she held out the glass and looked at it. “That’s excellent claret,” she remarked. “Just excellent!” Then she glanced around the room. “But I forget myself. Where’s little Sophie?”

  “Sophie?” Sophie looked up, puzzled by the question. Why should this great lady concern herself with the whereabouts of a maid? “She’s gone missing, ma’am.”

  “What do you mean, gone missing?”

  “She’s been accused of a crime and has run off.”

  “Crime? What kind of crime?”

  “Murder.” Sophie adjusted her skirts to hide her disquiet. “And theft.”

  “Good God!”

  “It’s been in the papers. A terrible scandal.”

  “The poor girl! What’s being done?”

  “What do you mean?”

  The older woman threw her shoulders back and narrowed her eyes, “Why to help her, of course!”

  “Help?” her voice cracked. “Sophie?”

  “Are you deaf, girl?”

  “No, but—” Sophie gaped at Lady Auliffe, baffled. No one had ever been concerned for Sophie’s welfare. Why would anyone start now? “What can be done?”

  “Why, send out a search party for one thing. Hire a good barrister for another. We can’t leave her out on her own like this. It just won’t do!”

  “But she’s just a maidservant—”

  “Pardon me?”

  “She’s just a maid. Why go to all that trouble?”

  Lady Auliffe’s eyes hardened into two points. “I can’t believe what you just said.”

  “She’s a good maid, though,” Sophie put in, trying to rectify whatever she’d said to outrage her grandmother. “I mean to say—”

  “There’s been some mischief!” Lady Auliffe declared, pounding her cane on the floor. The dogs vaulted from her lap, yapping. Lady Auliffe glowered, her stare shooting through the nearby window, as if she could see something far beyond the townhouse. “I should have guessed! That woman—”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “‘Tis all right. ‘Tis business from the past.” Lady Auliffe waved her off, coming out of her dark mood as swiftly as she had plunged into it. “I’ll arrange for everything as soon as we return to Carlisle House.” She leaned forward, “And by the way, how did you end up here? I must say I had a devil of a time trying to locate you.”

  “I was injured and all my things were lost. Captain Ramsay, who rescued me during the fire, kindly offered me the comfort of his home, as well as purchasing many new garments for me.”

  “Who is this Captain Ramsay?”

  Sophie sipped her tea. “I’m not sure. Only that he owns a club, Maxwell’s?”

  “I’ve heard of the place. Only the high players go there.”

  “He has been extremely kind to me.”

  Lady Auliffe’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll wager he has.”

  “And I told him you would reimburse him for any and all expenses he incurred during my stay.”

  “Of course.” Her hand tightened around the knob of her thin black cane. “An opportunist, this captain?”

  “Oh, no, ma’am. I’m certain he isn’t.”

  “We’ll see. An inheritance such as the one you will be receiving brings rats out of the woodwork, let me tell you. Be careful, girl. And don’t venture out alone, or you’ll find yourself drugged and married in Fleet Street, with nothing either of us can do about it.”

  Sophie thought back to Ramsay’s warning to Katherine of the very same thing.

  “London is a far cry from Santo Domingo. I’m sure you had many freedoms there that are denied to our young ladies of breeding. You’ll have to remember that.”

  Sophie swallowed, unsure how much she should say. “I’ll be careful,” she replied.

  “And well you should be. Land sakes, with a face like yours and the money you’ll be coming into, I’m surprised you haven’t had a score of proposals already.”

  “I’ve kept to this house much of the time, ma’am. I suffered burns on my hands and feet.”

  “You did?”

  “But they’re much better now.”

  “Good.” Lady Auliffe reached for a biscuit. “Is this Captain Ramsay an older man?”

  “I should guess around thirty.”

  “Thirty? Good God! Have you had a chaperone in attendance?”

  “Much of the time. His housekeeper.”

  “His housekeeper? What about your companion? Weren’t you traveling with your governess?”

  “She died in the fire, we assume.”

  “Oh dear.”

  Sophie set her cup down. “It hasn’t been the best of times, ma’am.”

  “Oh pish!” Lady Auliffe waved her hand. “Better to forget it like a bad dream, my dear. You’re in England now, and you have an entirely new life ahead of you.”

  “And I am grateful for that.” She bowed her head, deeply relieved by the likelihood that she wouldn’t be grilled about her past, just as someone knocked on the door.

  “And might I add that I am relieved to discover you are not the empty-headed wallflower I feared you might be.”

  “I shall take that as a compliment.”

  Lady Auliffe chuckled. “Ah, we shall get along just fine, Katherine. I can see that!”

  Mrs. Betrus stepped into the parlor and curtseyed. “The Earl has arrived, Miss Hinds.”

  “Show him in,” Sophie said, rising to her feet.

  Chapter 11

  Sophie watched Edward Metcalf walk toward her, his head thrown back proudly, a look of bored disdain on his face as the two small dogs yapped in alarm. He was dressed in a plum-colored silk frock coat and breeches, with the lace of his cravat nearly as deep as her own, and an almost unwieldy signet ring on his right hand. His white stockings were spotless, and Sophie guessed he had demanded that his bearers carry his chair into the reception hall, so not a single speck of slush would mar his hose.

  As Metcalf walked forward, he slid a quick glance at Lady Auliffe, and in that glance Sophie was surprised to see a glint of fear, or at the very least what looked like a momentary lapse of confidence. Was the earl afraid of something? The terriers? How could that be possible? She must have misinterpreted his expression. Puzzled, she continued to study him further, but he immediately assumed his usual air of ennui.

  “Miss Hinds,” he called, “My lovely little betrothed.”

  His drawl, and even more so his choice of words, set Sophie on edge. She endured his quick kiss to her hand, even though there was nothing offensive in his dry, polite peck or the subtle pressure of his fingertips.

  “Your lordship,” she murmured. She wondered what she would say to him if she were ever alone with him. No man had interested her less than this slender fop with his eternal case of boredom.

  “You are looking well,” he commented, trying to catch her eye.

  “I am much better, thank you.” She turned. “Come and meet my grandmother.” She drew him into the parlor and was truly grateful for the company of the older w
oman.

  Sophie made the introductions, amused to find her grandmother regarding the earl with a disdainful air that equaled if not exceeded his own.

  Regally she raised her gloved hand to be kissed. “So you’re young Metcalf,” she remarked.

  “Yes.” He took the offered hand. “And I am gratified to make your acquaintance at last, Lady Auliffe.”

  “Yes, well, I don’t get to London much these days. The city’s far too big for its breeches if you ask me!”

  “London is the center of the modern world, madam.”

  “Spoken like a true Englishman.” She tilted her head and boldly inspected him.

  “Don’t believe I’ve seen you since you were two years old.”

  “And have I changed much?” He gave her a lop-sided smile, assuming she would find him witty, and sat down next to her in the chair Sophie had been sitting in. The dogs stayed in Lady Auliffe’s lap, growling at him, their tails down, their eyes dark and distrustful.

  Lady Auliffe, much like her dogs, apparently did not find Metcalf charming. She sniffed.

  “I should hope you’ve changed. I won’t allow my granddaughter to marry a half-grown pup who still thinks the world is his plaything. Do you get my meaning, Edward?”

  “Certainly.” He straightened his shoulders. “And I am serious when I say that I shall enter into marriage to Katherine with the utmost sincerity.”

  “Tea?” Sophie asked.

  “Please,” he threw a quick smile at her and instantly turned his attention back to her grandmother.

  “I do hope you speak frankly,” Lady Auliffe continued. The earl nodded eagerly as she spoke. “It was Katherine’s grandfather’s intention and your grandfather’s to see a good match made for both families.”

  “And anyone could say they had tremendous foresight,” He took a self-satisfied pinch of snuff. “Who would have guessed the Metcalf and the Carlisle offspring would be so well suited to each other?”

  “As to that,” She waved him off impatiently. “The betrothal was intended to protect the interests and assets of two great houses, not provide you two a love match.”

  “Then I count myself doubly fortunate.”

  “Indeed?” She raised her right hand, “Make no mistake, sir. I have no compunction about breaking off the betrothal if I deem the match unsuitable.”