An Artful Deception

by Karen Cogan

  Her confession froze on her lips. How could she tell him now? Even if he believed her, he would never understand her reason for telling the lie. He would neither trust nor admire her. She decided quickly that it was better to remain a servant and keep his respect than become a lady and lose it.

  He studied the frown that creased her smooth brow and said, “I should not have spoken to you so. Of course you do not feel comfortable at being asked to become my conscience and I should not have asked it of you, though I do not believe I should mind it if you were to do so. I believe everyone needs someone who will be completely honest with them, with nothing to gain from flattery or deceit. I found someone once. At first, I resented it. Then, I found it to be to my greatest good fortune. I came away the better for it and miss it very much. I fear falling back into old patterns that were not any more becoming than those of the man in your book.”

  Katharine’s curiosity was aroused. Sometime in past few years someone had elicited a remarkable change. Was it a fair-haired beauty that had endeared herself to him by telling him the truth about himself. The thought filled her with an odd discomfort.

  “Indeed, my lord, you make me wonder what sort of person would dare to speak so boldly.”

  Philip laughed. “A teacher at my academy. He dared to speak and act boldly on my behalf. At first, I thought ill of it. Now, I am only grateful, for, you see, when I arrived I was the most spoiled and ill-mannered pupil in the entire school.”

  The explanation was more than satisfactory to Katharine who was relieved that he was not indebted to a young woman for his changed nature. When they were children she would have liked nothing better than to have indulged in the opportunity of pointing out his faults. However, she doubted that, at that tender age, he would have taken it so kindly. She wondered what manner of persuasion this remarkable teacher had used to transform the boy she remembered into a kind and thoughtful man.

  She smiled and said, “It is a credit to you that the discipline was not wasted upon you.”

  “And you? What of your upbringing? You promised to tell of it.”

  Katharine squirmed. She had hoped to avoid telling any more lies. “There is very little to tell. I was brought up at the Kirby estate.”

  “Was your mother a maid to Lady Kirby?”

  Katharine nodded, swallowing over the lump of guilt that had formed in her throat.

  “And your father?”

  “He worked there also…the butler.”

  Philip frowned. “That is funny. I had remembered that they had a butler named Harmon who had been with them for many years. I did not think that he was married. But my memory must be mistaken. My mother and Lady Kirby were fast friends. Occasionally, when they visited, they talked of the servants. “

  He grew more pensive. “They talked of marriage between me and Lady Katharine. I thought it a disagreeable idea at the time. Now, even if we did not choose to marry, I am sorry that I lost the opportunity to get to know her.”

  Katharine studied his solemn features. She longed to brush back the stray lock of dark hair that had fallen onto his forehead, to lay her hand upon his cheek and feel the warmth of his skin.

  Something in her expression touched a cord deep in his heart. This was no shallow-brained female. It was obvious that Ginny had depth and character, not to mention, the finely chiseled features of a porcelain doll. He felt his skin warm with the thought of how it would feel to hold her in his arms, to kiss those moist red lips.

  Immediately he regretted entertaining these notions. He did not want to dishonor this girl. He treasured her insights and her keen mind. He determined that, for now on, he would stop seeking her out. He would remember their positions and put distance between them. But drat if she was not the most peculiar maid he had ever met.

  He nodded abruptly and said, “I must be off. I have business to attend to.”

  He turned sharply and walked out of the room.

  His abrupt departure affected Katharine like a cold wind, making her shake with a sudden chill. She recoiled from her own errant ruminations. She wondered if he had sensed her interest. It had been plain to Lizzy. Katharine’s face burned with humiliation.

  If they were thrown together again, she must be careful to put distance between them. He must not find out her feelings, for if he knew the truth, he would not return them. She reminded herself that she would soon be safely married and out of this house. Then, she need not care what he thought of her. In spite of her assurances, her heart told her this would be more easily said than done.

  At precisely two o’clock Katharine and Lady Charlesworth went calling. The two handsome footmen were to take turns presenting Lady Charlesworth’s card at the homes she had selected. Katharine felt sure that Lady Charlesworth’s position would ensure that she would not be refused by any members of the ton.

  Their first stop was a townhouse just down the block from where they were residing. The butler took the card and alerted the lady of the house, who was eager to greet them and catch them up with everything they had missed in arriving tardily in London.

  Katharine sat quietly and listened.

  After a quarter hour, Lady Charlesworth pronounced their need to depart as they had several other calls to make. Her friend assured her of her relief that she had arrived and the promise of many happy occasions together.

  Lady Charlesworth looked pleased as they set off on the next call.

  They arrived at an imposing townhouse of gray brick and ionic columns. Again, the butler was pleased to fetch the mistress of the house, whom Katharine assessed as she greeted Lady Charlesworth. Though fashionably dressed in a brocade day gown, she was quite stocky, with a double chin and sharp dark eyes peering from a pudgy round face.

  She frowned at Katharine. “This is not Bertha.”

  Katharine stared at the floor, feeling as though she were being accused of a crime.

  “No, Bertha has left me to get married. This is Ginny, maid to Lady Katharine Kirby who was to come and marry our Philip. Lady Katharine was killed in an accident. It was all so horrible. I took in her maid to replace Bertha. It was the least I could do for her memory.”

  The stocky matron shook her head, which joggled her chins. “Shocking. Is this girl any good?”

  “She is passable,” Lady Charlesworth replied.

  Again, Katharine disliked being spoken about as though she was not there. It seemed very rude, even for her position as a servant. As the women began their visit, Katharine felt a growing resentment. What would these matrons say if they knew who she was? By all rights, she should be sitting with them, taking part in the conversation.

  And then a thought struck her that she had not considered before. The more people to whom Lady Charlesworth exposed her to in London, the more awkward it would be when she met them as her true self. To be remembered as Lady Charlesworth’smaid would be embarrassing for both her new husband and herself. Once again, she wished she had considered the repercussions of her plan.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Katharine kept her eyes downcast, trying not to draw attention to herself as they continued the rounds of calling. She pulled her cape over her russet curls, assuring the butlers that she was chilled and felt more comfortable with it drawn snugly about her.

  On the ride home, Lady Charlesworth commented, “I hope you are not coming down with something. I do not like this chill you have caught, for the parlors were quite comfortably warm.”

  Katharine shivered, for the coach was chilly. “I am sure I shall be fine. I shall ask Cook for a cup of hot tea. That never fails to put me right.”

  “I hope so. We shall be very busy this week. It would be very ill timing for you to become sick.”

  Katharine forced a smile. “Then I shall stay well.”

  The good thing about her perceived ill health was that Katharine was left to herself that evening. Lizzy was summoned to attend to Lady Charlesworth, who did not wish to be exposed to Katharine and risk lying abed and missing her much antici
pated parties.

  As Katharine lay on her narrow bed that night, she thought of their ride through the streets of London. They had passed a solicitor’s office. She remembered that her father had a solicitor in London. She strained to remember his name.

  Adkins, that was it. Why had she not thought of him before? Papáhad said that he made provision for her in his will. She would go to the solicitor and find out what he had left her in annual pension. Perhaps it would be enough to set herself up in London if she lived frugally. She could not live alone, of course. Propriety would never allow it. Yet, if the pension was enough, she could take a small house and hire a butler and lady’s maid.

  The more she thought about it, the more excited she grew. Yes, she would go to see the solicitor at her earliest opportunity. Surely, it was providence that had arranged for her to be here.

  She slipped away early the next afternoon while Lady Charlesworth was at rest and hired a handsome coach to take her to the solicitor. She pulled her shawl close about her, as much from nerves as protection from the chilly mist of January.

  They pulled up to a building with a sign which proclaimed that Mr. Adkins officed inside. Katharine paid the driver and marched up the stoop to the polished oaken door. She pushed it open and walked inside.

  A young clerk looked up at her. His body was thin under the starched white shirt. Curiosity shown in his eyes, along with a hearty mix of approval. It was not often that pretty young women stepped inside the office.

  He smoothed back a lock of dark hair and asked, “May I help you, miss?”

  Katharine took a breath and said, “I am Lady Katharine Kirby. My father, Lord Kirby, was Mr. Adkins’s client. Before my father passed away, he told me that he had entrusted your employer with his will.”

  The young man nodded. “And you have come to see Mr. Adkins.”

  “Yes, if it is quite convenient.”

  In his rush to be helpful, the clerk nearly tripped over his feet as he scurried from behind the desk. “I will check with Mr. Adkins. I am sure he will be very happy to see you.”

  He returned a few moments later and, holding open the inner door, invited Katharine into a paneled office adorned with lamps, several plush chairs cushioned in ruby velvet and a huge mahogany desk. The rug underfoot was brown imported wool, patterned with cream-colored swirls. A fire smoldered in the grate, giving cozy warmth to a room that smelled of old books and tobacco.

  The man behind the desk rose. He was short and plump with a dark mustache and eyes of amber brown. He smiled at Katharine as she extended her hand.

  “My clerk tells me you have come on the unhappy errand of seeking the contents of you father’s will. I am very sorry to hear of his passing. I had great admiration for Lord Kirby. He was a fine man who ran his estate well.”

  He gestured toward the chair. “Have a seat, my dear, please.”

  Katharine sank gratefully into the chair. “Your memory of my father is quite accurate. He was a fine man. And I thank you for saying it.”

  Mr. Adkins fingered his mustache. “You have come to see where you stand in the financial arrangements of the estate. Give me a moment and I will produce the will.”

  He took out a key and unlocked a large drawer in the desk. After rifling through the contents, he extracted a packet marked with her father’s name. “You know, of course, he had no choice in leaving the estate to your uncle, though I know he did not like it.”

  Katharine waited. She had no desire to comment upon the unfair penalty of having been born female. Her uncle did not deserve the estate, but there was nothing she could do to change the fact that it was now his legal residence.

  Mr. Adkins skimmed the document, and then looked up. “You have no property to inherit. But your father has left you a nice yearly pension to be paid monthly for your upkeep.”

  When he told her the amount, Katharine breathed a sigh of relief. Though it would not allow her to be extravagant, it was a generous amount and she would be able to live on her own. She would set about looking for a house as soon as she began to receive the funds that were due her.

  Mr. Adkins closed the document and studied Katharine. “Give me a few days to make some legal inquiries. Then I will draw up the papers allowing me to dispense your pension.”

  Katharine nodded. “Thank you. You have been very kind.”

  “Where may I reach you should I need to send a message?”

  Katharine bit her lip. She disliked the idea of having a message arrive at the Charlesworth residence. Yet she had no choice.

  “I am staying with Lady Charlesworth on Park Street.”

  His eyebrows rose. “I am glad you have found a champion at such a difficult time. I am sure she will take good care of you and make sure you are introduced into society.”

  Katharine rose, not wanting to prolong the conversation. “Very true. May I call on you in a week to see if my pension has been arranged?”

  “Better make it two. These things take time to get in order.”

  “Very well. I shall come back in two weeks.”

  She curtseyed briefly. “Thank you for your concern.”

  She felt vastly relieved as she smiled at the clerk, noting that his face turned red as he held the door for her to leave. He helped her down the step and secured a coach.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, miss.”

  She thanked him as he assisted her into the coach.

  The ride back was as damp as chilly as before. Yet, she did not feel it as keenly. She did, however, hope that Lady Charlesworth was still at her rest and had not missed her. It would be awkward to explain her disappearance and she did not like to lie. Yet, Lady Charlesworth would be sure to demand an explanation should she spy Katharine returning in a hired coach.

  Fortunately, she was able to slip into the house without notice. Lizzy was busy with Cook and the butler was off for the afternoon. She hung her bonnet and shawl on the rack beside the door and slipped up the stairs to find Lady Charlesworth just awaking.

  “Ah…Ginny. I was just going to ring for you. Fetch my tea and then my dark green day dress. Then I shall go down to lunch.”

  Katharine saw to her duties, which seemed less burdensome now that she knew she would not be continuing them for much longer. She wondered what inquiries Mr. Adkins would make. She remembered his kind words about Papá and they warmed her heart.

  That afternoon, Lady Charlesworth required her company for several more calls. At their last call, she sat inconspicuously near the parlor door at Lady Weatherton’s house while the matrons discussed the upcoming social events. She had found the other conversations dull. This one, however, captured her attention.

  “There is a ball next week. I know it is not yet the season, but I always enjoy a ball. It is delightful to see all the young people. It makes me feel young again myself,” Lady Weatherton asserted.

  “Indeed,” agreed Lady Charlesworth. “I should enjoy it also, except that I have a previous engagement that evening, one that I convinced Lord Charlesworth and my son to attend. You must remember everything at the ball and tell me who has already come back this year.”

  Katharine lost track of their conversation as her thoughts took another direction. If Lady Charlesworth would not be attending the ball, what was to keep Katharine from slipping out and attending? Lady Charlesworth had already said that she had another engagement, so Katharine need not fear that they would meet. All she need do was to intercept the invitation.

  The more she considered the idea, the better she liked it. It would be wonderful to cast aside her role as a maid for an evening, dress in one of her ball gowns, and be a butterfly set free from her cocoon. She imagined the attention she might capture, the young men who might vie for her card. Perhaps she would meet someone tall and handsome, a marquess or perhaps a duke. She tried to envision her fine gentleman and found, to her dismay, that all she could imagine was looking up into Philip’s face as he partnered her across the dance floor.

  She frowned
and tried to free herself from the picture stuck fast in her mind. She must stop the taunting images that tantalized her senses. She could not hope for a future with Philip. She had not been honest and, if he should learn the truth, he would surely despise her. Had he not said as much to her when they met in the library?

  Lady Charlesworth spoke to her sharply and she realized that her daydream had enveloped her so completely that she had been unaware that the matrons had concluded their visit. She glanced up into two pair of disapproving eyes as she arose. She felt sure that her mistress was thinking that her dear married Bertha would never have been so inattentive.

  Lady Charlesworth heaved a long-suffering sigh and repeated, “I am ready to leave. Go and tell the maid that I would like my wrap.”