“Robert. You often act in a peculiar manner.” Tom chuckled. “I know you don’t like to feel as if someone, anyone, is holding you down. My question is why bother with marriage if you’re not in love with the one you’re going to be wed to? Why would you marry Judith if the mere thought of it causes you to feel nervous and uncomfortable? Until today, I wasn’t sure of your feelings for Lady Phoebe, Robert. I would never have pushed you towards Judith if I’d known Phoebe had your heart. You don’t have to marry someone you don’t love. You could court one, or both, of the ladies. Then make up your mind.”
“Tom! Lady Phoebe barely speaks to me. She acts towards me as if I’m an ogre. I have an idea of what she’s heard about me from the gossips. But she and Judith are friends. I imagine she’s heard many unsavoury things about me.”
“They are not friends.”
“What? Of course, she’s heard terrible things about me. I daresay Judith has painted me in the poorest of lights.”
“Phoebe and Judith are not friends. It’s my opinion that Lady Phoebe tolerates Lady Judith.”
“Has she told you that?”
“She has not.”
“Then what makes you think it?”
“I know Lady Phoebe, Robert. You forget; she’s like a sister to me.”
“Your dear little sister who despises me. Have you noticed how she barely looks at me?”
“Robert, don’t be silly. I’ve told you my theory on that many times. You can be, well sometimes you can be intimidating.”
“What? I can be what?”
“You can be imposing and unapproachable.”
“Oh, of course, I’m so imposing. Yes, I forgot how imposing and unapproachable I am. And dear, sweet Lady Phoebe is so timid and shy. She went to Paris, after boarding school, and then lived in Paris for two years. Tom, I don’t believe there’s a shy bone in Lady Phoebe Sinclair’s body. Sweet, very much. Shy. No possibility.”
Tom studied his brandy. It was something he liked to do when he was thinking. And when Robert was rambling. “You know, Robert, you might think of ...” A young waiter arrived with more brandy and a note for Atwater.
Robert took the note and opened it. His eyebrows rose as he read. Tom sat patiently waiting to hear the contents.
“Well? What does it say? Who is it from?” Tom could wait no longer.
“It’s from Phoebe.”
Tom shifted in his seat. “That’s interesting. I thought she despises you.”
“Very amusing, Tom. Very amusing. She says Carlisle is in London. He’s at Wimpole Street ... he’s there now.”
Tom stood quickly, swallowing his brandy in one gulp. “We must go, at once.”
“Hold on a minute, Tom. I cannot save every damsel in distress. You tell me everyone says I should marry Lady Judith. You tell me everyone says I need to beget an heir. What would it look like, to everyone, if I were to be seen entering or leaving Lady Phoebe’s townhouse?”
“Let us dispense with sarcasm for a few minutes, shall we? Carlisle is at Wimpole Street. Phoebe needs your help. I can’t do much, being as I’m a second son ... something you’re familiar with. Phoebe is smart. She asks you to come because you are a Duke. And as such, you are on equal footing, at least as far as title goes, with Carlisle. Besides, why shouldn’t you go? You’re not betrothed yet, regardless of what Lady Judith says to everyone.”
“You present an excellent argument, Tom. Let us go then.” Robert stood. The pair went out the side entrance of the club and back to the mews. Dan was talking with Mary in the stable. “Here they are now, Miss Mary.”
“Thank you, Dan.”
“Think nothing of it, Miss.”
“Your Grace … Duke Atwater.” Mary appeared from behind the stable door and curtsied to the two men.
“Mary, is there more bad news? Your mistress has written that Duke Carlisle is in London.”
“Yes, Your Grace. He is.” Her eyes sought Tom’s, and then she looked down quickly.”
“We’re going to Wimpole Street now. Come. We’ll escort you back.”
“But Your Grace, there’s something else I must tell you. My Lady Phoebe said it was no business of hers, but I believe she would have told you once you arrived at the townhouse.”
“You believe she’d tell me what?”
“About Lady Judith, Your Grace. I felt you needed to know sooner. Lady Phoebe said to tell you if I wanted to. Lady Phoebe said it was not her concern.”
“What is not her concern? Something having to do with Lady Judith?” Atwater frowned and looked at Tom.
“Lady Phoebe said she had no right to come between you and your betrothed with something that might at best be speculation and at worse an outright lie.”
“Mary, come. Get in the carriage. You can tell us what this story is while we ride back to the townhouse.”
Tom helped Mary inside and took the seat across from her. Atwater sat next to her. Once they were ensconced inside the carriage, they rode around the side of the building and to the front of the club. They took the front way back to Wimpole Street.
“Now. What is all this about falsehoods?”
“Your Grace, I have, what I’m about to tell you, in strict confidence from a very good friend. But I had to tell Your Grace. I believe it to be very important.”
“Do go on, Mary. I have a high regard for your opinions.”
“A friend of mine, worked for the Bennington’s at Nonsuch ... their country house. When the estate was sold, most of the staff went travelling with Lady Judith and the Countess. Then, when Countess Bennington passed away on the journey, the travelling party split into two groups. One group, which included my friend, stayed with Lady Judith. The others disbanded.”
“And how is this relevant to Carlisle’s appearance in London?”
“It’s not ... directly relevant, Your Grace. My lady is trying to talk herself into marrying Duke Carlisle. She doesn’t want to lose Mrs Crabtree, Mr Harris or myself. His Grace threatens to sell the house on Wimpole Street, and Pinebrook Manor. Lady Phoebe has nowhere to go if she doesn’t marry him. She has no one but Mrs Crabtree and Mr Harris. And me. If she marries His Grace, there’s a chance we three might be allowed to stay with her. Albeit in Scotland, but there are worse things, I imagine.”
“If Lady Phoebe is considering marrying Carlisle, why did she send me a note asking for help?”
“She is afraid of him, Your Grace.”
“Well, I can’t run to Edinburgh whenever your mistress is feeling frightened, Mary. You know that.”
“I do, Your Grace. But when I tell you the rest of what I have to tell you, you will understand better.”
“Mary. Please continue with the rest of the story.” Tom sat back, smiling at her.
“Well, Your Grace, My Lord, my friend, Olivia, has just been employed at the St James house of Lady Judith. The housekeeper hired her. Olivia recognized no one of the staff. So she didn’t make known the fact that she’d been employed with the family previously. She didn’t know if it would work in her favour or not. The housekeeper and the butler were impressed with her letters of reference, and she was hired. She assists the cook.”
“That’s wonderful for her. And what part of this has to do with Duke Carlisle, Mary?” What was the girl getting at? It seemed that since Judith had come back to London, every conversation Robert had became a maze of indirect statements and elusive phrases.
“Your Grace. My friend, Olivia, was with Lady Judith and the Countess during their tour of Europe.”
“I see.”
“No, you do not, Your Grace. If I may be so bold, you do not see.”
Tom and Robert looked at each other, amused at Mary’s audacity.
“Your Grace. Olivia recognizes Lady Judith.”
“Well of course she does. Why would she not? Lady Judith has changed very much, but she is still recognizable.”
“No. Your Grace, it appears,” Mary looked down, twisting her hands in her lap.
Atwater
was growing impatient. “How does it appear, Mary?”
“It appears that Lady Judith is not who she says she is.”
“I’m sure I don’t understand.”
Tom leaned forward. “Mary, are you playing a game with us?”
“No, no, My Lord. Your Grace. Please, you must listen to me.” She looked from one to the other of them.
“I apologize, Mary. I shouldn’t have said that. I know that you are quite serious,” Tom offered pleasantly. “Come now. His Grace and I will listen with no more interruptions. Is that correct, Your Grace?”
“Yes, My Lord. That is correct.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. Thank you, My Lord.” Mary continued with her tale. “Lady Judith had a lady’s maid by the name of Charlotte Evans.”
“Did she disband with the others, or did she stay after the Countess’s death?” Tom was, once again, leaning forward.
“She stayed, My Lord, as did three other staff members ... butler, housekeeper, and cook. Charlotte was quite beautiful according to Olivia. So beautiful, and very much like Lady Judith. The two were often mistaken for sisters.
Then came the night there was a ball given in Lady Judith’s honour. The travellers were in Seville. The Countess Bennington had expired a year earlier. On the night of the ball, Lady Judith wasn’t feeling at all well, but she couldn’t miss the fete. It was in her honour. It would be rude not to attend. Even illness would not excuse her.”
Robert and Tom looked at each other questioningly. Robert was getting a strange feeling in his stomach.
“What happened?” Tom asked.
“Lady Judith asked Charlotte to attend the ball in her stead.”
“She asked Charlotte to go and pretend to be her?” Robert was flabbergasted.
“Yes, Your Grace. Olivia, herself, dressed Charlotte that night. And a greater likeness between two unrelated women was never to be seen. The party went off without a hitch. The lady’s maid, Charlotte, was a huge success in the guise of Lady Judith. No one suspected a thing. And then, the next morning, Lady Judith did something most peculiar.”
Atwater was perplexed. The strange feeling in his gut was intensifying. He questioned Mary, “What took place the next morning?”
“Lady Judith let the other three staff members, who had stayed with her, go. She kept only her lady’s maid. She said she would be needing only Charlotte. And Your Grace, she left the former staff with no provision. She gave them no letters of reference. And then she left Seville that very day.”
Atwater and Tom looked at each other in disbelief.
“And then?” Atwater could barely breathe. All of the strange occurrences of the last weeks might begin to make some sense.
“Lady Judith came back, alone, from her travels. Olivia has seen her, but Lady Judith hasn’t seen Olivia. And …”
“And?” the two men said in unison.
“Olivia told me that Lady Judith, the lady who began the awful rumour about you, Your Grace.” Mary sighed and looked again from one to the other of the men. “Olivia said that Lady Judith is none other than Charlotte Evans.”
“You mean to say that Charlotte Evans has appropriated Lady Judith Barton’s identity?” Tom queried.
“Yes, My Lord. That is what Olivia said.”
*******
When the carriage reached the house, both men and Mary went inside through the area. Robert ran up the servants’ stairs to reach the drawing room he knew Phoebe would receive the Duke in.
The door to the room was closed. He knocked once and opened it to find Carlisle with his body pressed against Phoebe’s. Her back was against the wall, and her head was turned as far to the side as she could get it. It appeared Carlisle was so engrossed in stealing a kiss from the lady he didn’t hear Robert enter.
Atwater stepped up behind Carlisle, wrinkling his nose at the reek of brandy emanating from the Duke. He put both hands on Carlisle’s back and tore the beast away from Phoebe. The force of the pull caused the Duke to stumble backwards. Phoebe stood stock still as her rescuer shielded her from Carlisle using his own body.
“Jush wha do you think you’re doing barging in here like thish? Into my home.” The Duke slurred his words.
“You’d do well to keep your hands from my fiancée, Carlisle. I’m here to save her from your grubby paws.” He motioned for Tom to come into the room to get Phoebe. “Get her to Regent Street. Mary too. Have Dan take a circuitous route. One he doesn’t usually take. I don’t want anyone to see us, if you follow my meaning,” he said under his breath.
“I do, Your Grace.”
“And will you stop calling me Your Grace?”
Tom bowed his head, and never one to resist a joke, said, “As you wish, Your Grace,” while ushering Phoebe from the room.
Alone with Carlisle, Atwater knew it was no use to try and reason with the man. He was very drunk and would most likely be passed out soon. To help him along, Robert proposed a toast, to which he knew the Duke would assent.
Atwater poured two brandies and, as on the night at Pinebrook Manor, he added granules of belladonna to one glass. He handed the glass to Carlisle and the two drank.
Atwater manoeuvred the Duke to the settee and helped him sit, all the while keeping a one sided conversation about nothing. Five minutes later, he left the room, went out through the area, and hailed a hackney. He would come back tomorrow and deal with Duke Carlisle.
Chapter 8
In the cab, Atwater thought much about what Mary had told Tom and himself. If Charlotte Evans was indeed an imposter who’d taken over Lady Judith’s identity, much could be explained.
Her near obsessive desire to be a Duchess for one. Her insistence on his marrying her, at least after the death of his brother. And her constant talk of him, for better or for worse, to any and every one who would listen.
Atwater had found Judith’s behaviour embarrassing. But he’d figured that once married with a child or two, she would calm down. He didn’t remember his Judith to be cold and calculating. Indeed, his Judith would not have behaved the way the current Lady Judith did. There were many unanswered questions since Lady Judith had come back to London. And now, possibly, all the questions were about to be answered.
His Judith. His mind went back to her. The Judith of three years before. The Judith who’d cried and asked him to wait for her to come back. The Judith who’d rejected him before her journey and then stopped writing.
She’d been alone in Spain, with no one but her lady’s maid. She’d been ill. And then she’d come home, to London, just as he had been moving away from his feelings for her.
She’d come back. Finally. In his heart he’d forgiven her. He’d dared to hope that they could rekindle their love. Then she denied him again. She wanted to move up in society. But she slandered him. He couldn’t believe she’d taken it to such an extreme.
Atwater had come to terms with the situation. Then, when Judith had denied him again and made a play for his brother, Atwater knew it was over. She didn’t want him. And quite frankly, he didn’t want her.
The question remained in his mind, though. Had something unforeseen or illicit taken place in Spain? Charlotte Evans had discovered she could imitate Judith without detection. But the people she came across during her travels were unknown to the lady. It would be entirely possible to hoodwink someone Judith had never met before.
Falling for the Heartbroken Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 12
