by Gill, Tamara
"You found the estate alright then, Miss Smith? Some have difficulty finding the turn into the grounds," he mentioned, making small talk and trying to put Miss Smith at ease. Although from taking in her countenance, she did not seem at all nervous to be before a lord or taking on the responsibilities of a dowager marchioness.
"The coachman was familiar with the location of Lyon Estate as he lives in the village nearby. It was no trouble at all finding your home, which I must compliment you on. It is lovely indeed."
Theo found himself smiling at her words. As pretty as they were, he knew them to be a lie. His estate was showing the signs of neglect, of poor cash flow, which he would soon remedy.
The would-be ladies in London this year were in need of a titled husband as much as he needed their inheritances. The deal was a good one for all involved.
"I must mention, Miss Smith that the Dowager Marchioness of Lyon, my mother, is ill of health. She has aged in the few years since my father's passing, and I fear that it will not be long that I shall have her with me. I would like the assurance that the month that I require you to be here, that you are kind and attentive to her, allow her any little vices she desires and keep her safe. I was assured you came highly recommended by the agency to meet all my requirements. Are you still in agreement to do as I ask?" Theo held his breath, needing her to agree so he could make final preparations to remove himself to town. Having heard all of her duties, if Miss Smith now wished to leave, he did not know what he would do.
She nodded, smiling, and he felt the breath in his lungs expel on a sigh. Her beauty was certainly something to get used to. He did not think he'd ever seen anyone as perfect as the woman before him. There was something about her, a poise, a regalness that spoke of good breeding and aristocratic blood.
He dismissed the thought. She was a servant, a lady’s companion, and while she may have come from money once, she certainly had no link to it now if this was the position she had to take up.
"Of course. I'm prepared to look after the marchioness and keep her safe and happy these next four weeks. In fact, I'm looking forward to all the entertainment we shall do. I hope you do not mind, but I have thought up some of my own ways to keep her occupied if you would give me leave to use them."
Miss Smith was like a breath of fresh air into his musty, old house. As much as he loved the estate, the old girl needed repairs and a lot of blunt spent. With the knowledge of Miss Smith here with his mama, he could remove himself to town, knowing he had not put his parent in jeopardy.
"Of course, you may do whatever you wish if she agrees. She cannot swim, however, Miss Smith, so perhaps do not attempt to swim in the lake while I'm not here."
She chuckled, her brown eyes, or perhaps hazel, bright with amusement. "I shall not, I promise," she agreed. "Is the dowager marchioness about, my lord? I should like to meet her if you're happy with me starting my employment here in earnest."
Theo stood. "Come, we shall go meet her now. She is in the upstairs drawing room. She uses that room above any else in the house as it gets both morning and afternoon sun being on the west wing."
"How lovely." Miss Smith followed him out of the room, and Theo ignored the fact that she would see other parts of the house that needed repair. She would understand soon enough after living here some days that he was a lord after a rich wife, and that is why he left for London.
There was no shame in that fact, even though it irked his soul that his father had died a broken, lost man after the king cheated at the game of cards, fleecing him of land and money he did not deserve to win.
The bastard royal pig that he was.
They made the first-floor landing, and Theo led Miss Smith toward the drawing room, one of the largest rooms in the house. The door was ajar, and he could hear his mother speaking to a maid about stoking the fire with more wood. Why, he could not understand, since England was experiencing a heatwave.
He entered and waited for Miss Smith to stand beside him. "Mama, may I introduce you to Miss Elena Smith? She's to be your lady's companion for the next month."
His mother lifted her spectacles from her lap, peering through them to take in Miss Smith. Her mouth puckered into a displeased line, and Theo hoped she was not going to be curt or rude to the woman at his side. Certainly, he hoped they would get along well so he could leave without any concerns.
"Hmm, so you're the miss to coddle me like a babe." His mother dismissed Miss Smith with a disgruntled sniff. "I do not take well to being treated like a baby, so do not attempt to do whatever it was that my son has suggested to you. I'm a marchioness, not a moron. I still have my wits about me, so do not attempt to make me into a pet who requires saving. I will not abide it."
Miss Smith glanced up at Theo, but he was mistaken if he thought to see fear and regret. Instead, he saw resilience and determination, and his interest in the peculiar Miss Smith was piqued.
Who was this young woman?
She moved toward his mama and dipped into a curtsy. "Lady Lyon, it is an honor to meet you, and I'm so glad to have this opportunity to spend the month with you." Miss Smith moved past his mama and sat in a chair at her side. "If you will allow me to speak, I would like to say that I do not want to be your nursemaid any more than you wish to have one. I'm here to keep you company and do whatever you want me to. That is all, nothing more and nothing less."
His mama's brows rose in surprise, and he could see his parent trying to figure out if Miss Smith was trying to play a trick of some kind. Theo bit back a smile, having trouble himself figuring out the young woman.
Mayhap his luck was changing, and his trip to London would be successful. That he would return to Somerset married to a disgustingly wealthy heiress and a parent who was no longer so very annoyed at everyone she came across.
His mother's cane came down hard on the floor, a loud clank making him cringe. "I do not know what game you're playing, Miss Smith. But you are to speak when spoken to and that I'm afraid will not often be. Now do shut up."
Theo groaned. Well, at least he may get one of his wishes true, that of a wealthy bride. His mother, unfortunately, looked well set to remain the termagant she had become in her old age.
Chapter 3
Elena had tried and failed miserably not to laugh at the dowager's command that she shut up. Never in her life had she ever been spoken to in such a high-handed, commanding way, and as much as it amused her, she also could not help but wonder why her ladyship was so very angry.
Was she angry with her son, perhaps that he was leaving for London and leaving her behind? Maybe she too wanted to go to town and enjoy the Season.
Certainly, there were ladies her ladyship's age who still attended balls and parties, some even commencing illicit love affairs due to their widowed status.
Lord Lyon's visage visibly paled, and he came over beside his mother. "Mother, apologize to Miss Smith. She's here to keep you company while I'm away and nothing more."
"Pfft," her ladyship spat. "I do not need taking care of, but since you insist, I suppose I have no choice." Her ladyship leaned down, picking up a bag of knitting that Elena had not seen, and commenced pulling out her needles.
Elena sat back in the settee, perfectly content to allow her ladyship her time to do what she wanted. She was more than satisfied to be sitting in this drawing room than one in London where she was a special feature for people's entertainments. A princess to ogle and admire.
She clenched her teeth, having had enough of being the perfect royal in town. This month here in Somerset was just what she needed.
A break from all that noise.
Her ladyship flicked her hand at her son, who remained nearby, his unease at leaving Elena with his parent obvious. "You may go, Theodore. I shall not injure Miss Smith," her ladyship stated, not bothering to meet her son's eye.
Lord Lyon sighed. "I do apologize, Miss Smith. Please let me know if my mother does not become more agreeable."
She nodded, having no intention of doing
such a thing.
His lordship bowed and left, and Elena wondered if her ladyship would not speak to her and keep silent and occupied with her knitting. Elena watched as her fingers worked fast with the needles and wool. She wished she were as proficient with the task. She struggled to sew, one of the occupations that a lady should excel at never an ability she held.
She could draw, ride a horse, swim, and run well enough, and she was happy to have those abilities instead.
Her ladyship laid down her knitting and pinned her with a disapproving glare. "Now, Miss Smith, if that is what you're calling yourself, you may explain to me what you are about."
Elena felt her mouth gape, and she snapped it closed, unable to comprehend what her ladyship meant and not wanting to find out particularly. She thought back over her trip to Somerset and knew she had not been recognized anywhere. Her ladyship's words made no sense at all.
"I beg your pardon, my lady. I do not know what you mean," she ventured, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat that she'd been found out. Surely not! Lady Lyon had never met her before in her life. She was a stranger to the woman. There was no way she could know she was royalty.
"The moment I saw you, I knew who you were. Your mama and I debuted together. We were friends, you see, and you, my dear, are the spitting image of her. It was like seeing a ghost."
Elena slumped. Her ruse had lasted all of one hour from her arrival to now. She would be required to go to Kew Palace and pretend to enjoy herself. How dreadfully boring and mundane.
Why had she not thought of the possibility that the dowager would have recognized her? It was no secret in the family that she resembled her mother, most of all the daughters of the king and queen. With the dowager a good friend of her mama during their first Season in society, she should have known such an outcome as this could occur.
Damn it all to hell, she inwardly cursed. "I did not think that anyone would remember my mama. She left England so many years ago and has been gone since I was a child." Elena's smile wobbled. "You remember her?"
Lady Lyon reached out, taking her hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. "Oh yes, I remember her well. She was my friend, and you are uncannily similar." She paused. "I had seen your sisters when I was in town last. But I had never laid eyes on you, but the moment you entered the room, I knew you were up to a ruse." Her ladyship raised one brow. "Miss Smith? Surely you could have come up with a less ordinary name than Smith of all that are available."
Elena snorted, supposing her ladyship had a point. "It was the first name that came to mind at the agency when they asked for my surname. I had to think quick, and that was what I came up with."
Her ladyship chuckled. "Well, even so, you're here now, so you had better tell me what all this is about. Why are you here pretending to be a servant, for heaven's sake?"
"Well, as to that…"
"And," her ladyship said, halting her explanation. "There will be no more curtsying to me. You outrank me tenfold. How absurd, a princess curtsying to a marchioness. I have never heard of such a thing."
Elena nodded, but that was the least of her concerns. Now she had to convince her ladyship to let her stay and to not say a word. "I no longer wanted to be in London. I was expected at a country house party at Kew Palace, but I knew even then I would be put up on a pedestal to be admired, to be crowed about that they had met the youngest princess from Atharia. I feel invisible in London. Like I do not have a voice or at least one that anyone wishes to hear. Not me, the real me inside," she said, pointing to her chest. "I wanted to escape, and I read in the paper the advertisement that Lord Lyon was seeking a companion, and so I applied through the servant registry office."
"And your sisters, do they know where you are?"
She pursed her lips, hoping her ladyship would not be mad at her next words. "No, they do not. They believe me to be at Kew, but I have a friend there who is posting letters from me to them, so they will think I'm safe and sound, doing the pretty by attending the party as asked."
"There would be many who would cut off a finger to attend a house party hosted by the King of England."
"Oh, King George will not be in attendance. I can only assume because he finds such outings as boring and ineffective as I do."
Lady Lyon bit back a grin. "You have a forked tongue, my dear, but I suppose being a princess does allow one such freedom." She paused, studying her a moment. "You cannot stay here. You do know that, do you not?"
"But I can," she pressed, clasping her ladyship's hands. "Lord Lyon will be in London from tomorrow, and then it will only be us to keep each other company. And even if his lordship remained, you're a perfectly acceptable chaperone. I do not need anything more."
"I’m sure at times society and my son believe me to be ailing. They will not like that a princess is under the Lyon roof without an adequate chaperone."
"Well," Elena stated, determined to get her way. She wanted to stay at the estate even more now that she knew her ladyship remembered her mama, and knew who she was. "They will never know if you do not tell anyone that I'm here," she hedged. "Nor do I see anyone in my presence who is ailing or infirm. You seem quite sprightly, in my opinion."
"And on top of being a princess, you're now a doctor. Is that correct?"
Elena shrugged, grinning. "If you like, I can be both, but I'd prefer to be your friend and here incognito until I have to return to town in four weeks."
The dowager seemed unmoved, and so there was really only one thing left for Elena to do. "Would you please let me stay? I will not be any trouble, and I shall help as I promised his lordship with assisting you."
Her ladyship scoffed as if she had never heard such a preposterous idea. "You will not. A princess will not fetch for me day and night. I would not see of it."
"As you stated before, I outrank you, so, therefore, it is my choice, is it not?"
Her ladyship's mouth puckered into a disapproving frown, but she did not counter what Elena had stated.
She nodded, pleased that her ladyship understood. Not that she wanted to be high-handed, but she was desperate to remove herself from London. Not forever, but certainly for the few weeks her ruse would allow her to keep away, to hide and refresh her sensibilities to face what was to come. A marriage, family, the possibility that she would stay in England with her new husband and not return to Atharia after her wedding. "Exactly, so it is my choice, and I have stated what I wish to do. Now, shall we play a game of whist or vingt-et-un?"
"Whist if you please," her ladyship conceded, putting down her knitting.
Elena smiled to herself, going to the mantel and ringing for a maid. "I shall have the gaming table set up for us. Would you like tea and biscuits brought in, my lady?"
The notion of a hot repast seemed to please her ladyship more than the thought of Elena staying under her roof without anyone's knowledge. "Yes, thank you, that would be lovely."
Just as her four weeks in Somerset would be perfectly lovely as well.
Chapter 4
Later that evening, Lady Lyon sat in her bed, her lady’s maid seated on a chair at her side, reading to her from a book she was no longer listening to. "We must do something about my son. He cannot leave the estate now and travel to London. We have to halt his departure, not just tomorrow, but for the remainder of the month."
"We do?" Fanny asked, a confused frown on her brow. "But he's to travel to London to marry, you said. How can he find a wife if he remains in Somerset?"
"Well, while you do not need to concern yourself as to why I want him to remain in Somerset, I do need you to concern yourself with gaining the help of Thomas out in the stable. I know you're both sweet on each other, and he'll do your bidding, and if not yours, then he will certainly do mine."
She contemplated all the ways one would keep a person from departing. Nothing too obvious that her clever son would figure out too soon. But he had to stay. No matter what she had said to Princess Elena earlier that day about her needing to leave, there w
as no reason why she could not stay while she was in attendance. A dowager was as good a chaperone as anyone. But her son required a rich wife, and there was none richer than a princess from Atharia. With two already off the marriage mart, Elena was all who was left, and she was too charming for words. Intelligent too, her ladyship guessed, and utterly beautiful. Too beautiful to pretend to be a lady’s companion, but if that is what she wanted to do, that is what she would allow her to be for the next few weeks at least.
But to keep her son behind these doors had to occur too for her plan to work.
"What would you like me to ask Thomas? I know he's in the stables now, my lady," Fanny said, intrigue burning in her blue gaze.
"Have something go wrong with the carriage. Have Thomas loosen a sprig or bolt or some such without anyone noticing. Enough that the carriage will not be able to be used. My son will not ride all the way to London. Our horses are carriage horses only, and the one mount he has is too old to make it to town."
"Of course, my lady. I shall go to Thomas directly." Fanny stood, placing the chair she had been seated upon beside the wall. "What about the remainder of the days?"
The dowager pursed her lips. "Make sure whatever damage is done to the carriage will take several days to repair, five perhaps. But then after that, we must come up with something else."
"I shall think upon it, my lady," Fanny said, ever helpful and loyal. She did not have any concerns that Fanny would tattle what she was about to do to keep him at the estate.
"Thank you. We shall discuss my next move in several days. Now run along and speak with Thomas before it grows too late."
Fanny bid her goodnight and left the room with haste. The dowager sat back in her bed, watching the flames in the grate crackle and eat the wood in its hold. Her son deserved to be happy, and there was no one more perfect for him than Princess Elena. Her friend's youngest daughter was here at Lyon Estate, and there was a reason why fate had thrown her into her son's life. It was destiny, she was sure, and now she would give fate a hand and, if not, a good shove to get her son to marry a woman who equaled him in all ways, except wealth.
