by Merry Farmer
“Thank you,” Ellie said, holding herself back from bowing to the woman the way she’d deferred to the guests at The Cattleman Hotel.
From there, everything descended into pandemonium. The footmen unloaded Miss Mortimer’s trunks and things from the carriage and carried them through the breathtaking house as Betsy led Ellie through a maze of halls and stairways. As much as Ellie wanted to talk to Betsy and make friends with her, she had no idea if that would be right or proper. So she kept her mouth shut, pressed a hand to her stomach to still the butterflies, and wondered how on earth she was going to pull the whole thing off.
THINGS WERE GOING SPLENDIDLY, as far as Henry was concerned. Ellie was charming and sweet from the moment he introduced her to his family and through supper. He had full confidence in her ability to hold her own when the ladies retired to the sitting room while the men adjourned to their smoking room for after-supper cigars.
The only fly in the ointment was the way Reese’s fiancée, Princess Olympia, had stared Ellie down all through supper. There was something about that woman that put Henry’s nose out of joint. She was as regal as her title implied, and wore her jewels like she was born with them, but, like his father, the woman didn’t have an ounce of warmth in her. He could have sworn she was jealous of the way his mother spoke mostly to Ellie instead of her throughout the meal. Reese could handle a woman like that—he was the heir, after all, and so uninterested in women that Henry had no doubt as soon as a son was produced, the two would barely see each other for the rest of their lives. But Ellie was just the sort of gentle soul who women like Olympia devoured for pudding.
Which was why, as soon as the appropriate amount of time had passed and the men abandoned their cigars and brandy to rejoin the women, he flew straight to Ellie’s side. At least, protecting Ellie from Princess Olympia was the reason he gave himself for being drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Surely his desire to be close to the inconsequential woman had nothing to do with the ease of her smile or the sparkle in her eyes, or the way she made him feel like he could be a knight in shining armor. Their association was temporary, after all. Once the game was over and his father had lost, he would see Ellie on her way.
He didn’t want to think about the hollow feeling that gave him. Instead, he took a seat beside Ellie on the gilded sofa and whispered in her ear, “Have you tamed the wild hordes of princesses yet?”
Warm, bashful laughter bubbled up from Ellie’s throat. Henry’s groin tightened at the sound. “I barely know what anyone is talking about,” she whispered in return. “Although I’m remembering more and more of the nonsense Miss Mortimer spouted on the ship.”
“Then you’re probably on much better footing than most men of my acquaintance.”
Ellie continued to giggle, pressing her gloved fingers to her lips. She looked so natural in her burgundy velvet gown with her golden hair a cascade of ringlets at the back of her head, that Henry had a hard time picturing what she would look like in the scanty bodice and frilled skirts of a Wild West whore. Then again, it was far easier to imagine her in various states of undress than it should be for a gentleman.
“Helena, dear,” his mother said from one of the other sofas that made a large grouping where the family all sat.
No one answered. Ellie continued to peek at Henry with conspiratorial glee, making Henry’s heart dance a jig against his ribs. It was only Princess Olympia’s sharp throat-clearing that made Ellie suddenly gasp and sit up straight.
“Oh dear, I’m so sorry, your ladyship.” She turned to his mother, her face flushing a tempting shade of pink.
It took Henry a few more seconds to realize that “Helena” was actually Ellie, and that his mother was attempting to converse with her.
“You must be exhausted, my dear.” His mother smiled benevolently at Ellie—a fact which satisfied Henry far more than the joke he was playing warranted. “Please don’t feel as though you must continue to entertain us tonight.”
“Yes, I am here to do the entertaining,” Princess Olympia added in her elegant, German accent. “You are not necessary.”
Part of Henry wanted to think he’d heard the comment wrong. A larger part saw the jab for what it was. No amount of mellifluousness in the princess’s voice could hide the bite behind her words. His mother looked uncertain about the comment as well, casting a sideways glance in Olympia’s direction.
“You must be worn out yourself, Mother,” he said, coming to her rescue the same way he wanted to come to Ellie’s. “Why don’t we all retire early tonight. Tomorrow will come soon enough, after all.”
“You’re quite right.” His mother seemed relieved to have an excuse to leave the present company and stood, stifling a yawn. “We’ll resume getting to know one another tomorrow, my dear Helena.”
“I’d like that,” Ellie said, rising as well.
Henry jumped to his feet beside her. His father and Reese had never taken a seat in the first place, and fled from the room as soon as they felt they were given leave. Only Olympia remained seated.
“In the Rhenish court, we never go to bed before midnight,” she said, chin tilted up to show off her long, slender neck. And her flared nostrils. “It is considered rude indeed to abandon one’s guests before the small hours of the morning.”
“I…oh.” Henry’s mother glanced around uncertainly, looking at the sofa.
A stab of anger hit Henry in a tender spot. “I think exceptions can be made when one has had as busy a day as my mother has.” He spoke with a smile, careful not to let an ounce of his anger show.
His mother rewarded him with a grateful smile. “Tomorrow we shall stay up as late as you like, my dear,” she said to Olympia, still stubbornly seated. “Perhaps we can amuse ourselves by playing that daring American card game that is so popular in western saloons. Poker, I believe it is?” She sent a teasing look Ellie’s way.
“Yes, poker,” Ellie answered, looking as though she wanted to laugh but wasn’t sure she should. “I know it well.”
Henry was certain she did. He was suddenly seized with the desire to stay up all night playing with her, using items of clothing as betting pieces, as he’d heard some of the more bohemian set did.
“Such games are for peasants and children,” Olympia sniffed, standing at last. “But I will do whatever you would like to do, Lady Howsden.” She batted her eyelashes and gave his mother a condescending nod.
Henry didn’t know how they were all going to tolerate the odious woman for the next few decades. Poor Reese.
He attempted to dispel the sour feeling the princess gave him by offering his arm to Ellie. “I might not be able to escort you all the way to your room,” he said as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, “but I can take you as far as the landing. That way I can show you how the stones of the lane glow in the moonlight, like I promised.”
His words, spoken specifically to Ellie in such a close tone, signaled to the other two ladies that the evening was over. Olympia marched out of the room with her nose in the air. His mother sent a pleased look at him and Ellie before departing for her own wing of the house. That left Henry alone to escort Ellie from the drawing room, through several halls, and up the grand west staircase.
“This house is so big I don’t know if I’ll ever find my way around,” Ellie said as they climbed the stairs to the first landing, near windows that were twice as tall as either of them and three times as wide.
“You get used to it, like you get used to everything else,” Henry said, slowing down to make their walk last longer. “You’re doing a smashing job, by the way.”
Ellie let out a doubtful laugh. They paused on the landing, and she turned to him. “I’ll do the best that I can for you, Lord Henry.”
“Just Henry, please,” he said. He wanted to be anything but formal with the brilliant young woman on his arm.
“Are you sure?” she asked. “You’re so far above me.”
He shook his head, resting his free hand over hers wher
e it tucked into his elbow. “Here we are equals,” he insisted. “For now, facts of birth and upbringing don’t matter for anything.”
She tilted her head to the side, studying him. “Did you grow up here, Henry?”
“Here and in London, yes,” he answered with a nod.
“Were you happy?”
The air left Henry’s lungs as if someone had hit him with a plank. “Was I happy?”
“Mmm hmm.” She nodded, a tender smile on her lips. The moonlight streamed down through the large windows, making her seem like some sort of spirit come to bless his life.
Henry blinked several times, glancing away from her and around the staircase and the hall below. “I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that before.”
“It’s only that I get the feeling this might not have been the coziest place to grow up,” Ellie explained. “Especially with everything being so formal and your father being so….” Wisely, she didn’t finish her sentence.
Henry let out a breath, frowning, then softening into a weary half-smile. “No,” he said at last. “I don’t think I was happy growing up here. But seeing as I’ve never stopped to consider it before….”
“You don’t have to think about it now,” she said. “I was being nosey, and I really shouldn’t.”
“You can be as nosey as you’d like,” he said, surprised to find that he actually meant it. He would have told Ellie anything she wanted to know, no matter how personal. There was something about her that made him want to open up to her, heart and soul.
“Well, I’ll save the nosing for tomorrow,” she said, swaying in such a way that he was encouraged to escort her on up the stairs to the second floor. “Right now, I just want to sleep and sleep and sleep.”
“Completely understandable,” Henry agreed. He imagined what it would have been like to sleep beside her, to cradle her in his arms as dreams of wide open spaces and magnificent adventures filled her head.
They reached the landing of the second floor, where the hall split, leading off in two directions. He stopped, letting Ellie’s arm go.
“Until tomorrow, then,” he said, raising her gloved hand to kiss her knuckles.
“Until tomorrow,” she repeated with a tired smile.
She turned to go, glancing over her shoulder to smile at him one more time as she left. Henry felt as though a part of him went with her.
CHAPTER 4
Ellie was certain she wouldn’t sleep a wink for fear of being discovered. But the huge, four-poster bed draped with rose-colored brocade and cushioned with multiple feather beds was irresistible. She woke the next morning, surprised to find a maid in her room, lighting the fire. More surprising still was the appearance of Betsy moments later. The bright-eyed young lady’s maid greeted her warmly, but Ellie was so nervous about revealing her true self to the girl that she barely said a word in return.
“Would you like to wear the green faille today, miss?” Betsy asked as Ellie climbed down from the bed.
Ellie wasn’t sure what faille even was. “Um, yes, please.”
Betsy smiled and curtsied, then disappeared into the small room that served as a closet. She returned a few moments later with one of Miss Mortimer’s dresses. Ellie washed and switched her nightgown for clean underthings by herself, but Betsy helped her into the dress.
“Hmm. The proportions aren’t quite right,” Betsy observed as she buttoned the back of the dress. “Did you perhaps lose weight on the sea voyage, miss?”
Ellie swallowed hard. There were a thousand ways everyone from the lowest maids to Lord Howsden could discover her true identity that she hadn’t even considered. “Yes, I think I did,” she said, her mouth dry. “Although I was told that there was an incident with the trunk that held most of my newer gowns which resulted in them all being ruined. All I have left is older things.”
Would the maid go for that excuse?
Betsy smiled. “I’m sure Lord Henry would be more than happy to send for a modiste to supply you with a whole new wardrobe, miss.”
Ellie thought maybe a modiste was something like a dressmaker, someone like Wendy Montrose back home. A pang of homesickness hit her. She would have given anything for Wendy to be with her now.
“That would be lovely,” she said instead, moving to the vanity so Betsy could style her hair.
The feeling of being a fish out of water followed her down through the house and into the breakfast room. She considered it a miracle that she was able to find the room without getting lost. Although she did have to ask a footman to point her in the right direction. At least the morning meal was every bit as delicious as supper had been the night before, even if everything was shockingly formal.
“Did you sleep well last night, Helena?” Lady Howsden asked her from across the wide table.
“Yes, ma’am, I did,” she answered. She was pleased as punch that she’d remembered to answer to the name Helena without hesitation, but her smile dropped when she spotted Princess Olympia sneering in disgust.
“How could anyone do anything but sleep like a cherub on a cloud in your beautiful house, my lady,” Olympia said.
Ellie tried to keep her wince to herself. That’s what she’d done wrong. Lady Howsden was “my lady”, not “ma’am”.
“Thank you, my dear.” Lady Howsden nodded to Olympia, her smile tight. Ellie wondered if Henry’s mother liked the princess.
The meal continued in strained silence until Lord Reese joined them. He sat by Olympia’s side, but spoke only to his father about the business of the estate. Ellie didn’t know much about that either, but she could tell when two men were entrenched in opposite sides of an issue.
She didn’t truly feel at ease until Henry wandered in as she was close to finishing her food. As soon as he appeared and smiled at her, a sunburst exploded in her chest. The reaction was so wildly unexpected that she had to suppress a laugh.
“Nice of you to join us,” Lady Howsden teased him.
Henry walked to her side and kissed her cheek before circling back to the sideboard, where a variety of breakfast foods waited for him. “I was far more done in from all the excitement of meeting my lovely fiancée than I thought I’d be,” he said.
Ellie blushed, half with pleasure and half with shame over their lie. Lady Howsden beamed. Princess Olympia pursed her lips as though she’d bitten something sour.
“I was thinking,” Lady Howsden said as Henry loaded his plate and took a seat at the table beside Ellie. “We should host a small ball later this week.”
Her comment snagged the attention of everyone at the table. Even Lord Howsden and Lord Reese stopped bickering about the estate. “There’s no such thing as a small ball, Mother,” Lord Reese said.
“This week?” Lord Howsden balked.
“Well, perhaps not a full ball,” Lady Howsden went on. “But we should invite everyone in the neighborhood to come meet our lovely, soon-to-be daughters-in-law.” She sent a warm smile Ellie’s way, and a marginally less enthusiastic smile to Olympia. “But, of course, there should be dancing too.”
“Mother is fond of a dance,” Henry murmured in Ellie’s ear.
He was loud enough for Lady Howsden to hear him. “Everyone is fond of a dance. Aren’t they, Helena?”
“Uh, yes. Absolutely,” Ellie replied. She thought of herself and the rest of Bonnie’s girls, kicking up their skirts at The Silver Dollar saloon. Sam Standish’s patrons had certainly loved that.
“It’s settled, then,” Lady Howsden said, happier than Ellie had seen her so far. “I’ll get together with Mrs. Abbott and Mr. Poole, and we’ll see what we can throw together on short notice.”
Ellie could only imagine what a woman with the resources Lady Howsden had could “throw together”. She had a feeling she was in for more of a party than The Silver Dollar had ever seen. Although that brought a slew of other problems with it. She doubted the kind of behavior she and the other girls had engaged in at The Silver Dollar would be the way people acted at a British soc
iety party.
She sent Henry a sideways look as she finished her eggs. He gave her just enough of a wink and a nod to let her know he understood her concern.
The meal drew to a close, and Ellie followed the other women into the morning parlor, hoping she would get a chance to speak to Henry before too long. She hovered near the doorway to the hall, wondering how long Henry would take to finish his breakfast, and wondering what people with so much wealth did with themselves during the day.
She was halfway through imagining Lady Howsden supervising the maids doing the laundry when Princess Olympia strode over to her. A wave of dread made Ellie feel like she was sinking into the floor, but before she could do or say anything, Olympia said, “Let’s make one thing perfectly clear.”
Ellie blinked. The woman’s accent reminded her of her Oma, who spoke only German and was more than a little terrifying. “Yes?” Her voice trembled.
“Your papa may have piles of new money, but you have no status to speak of.” The princess’s eyes flared with determination, and she tilted her chin up. “I will not have you stealing the limelight or wheedling your way into Lady Howsden’s affections above me when I am the superior here.”
“Well…I…that is…um….” Ellie stumbled for any kind of answer. She’d seen jealously at the whorehouses where she’d worked when times were lean and survival depended on clients, but she’d had no idea anything like that could exist in the social circles of the nobility. But some women felt the need to be the queen bee more than others.
“Do not forget,” Olympia went on. “Now, and when we are both daughters in this family. I am the superior. You are nothing more than a social-climbing buccaneer.”
Ellie swallowed, her mouth too dry to speak. But at the same time, a spark of something tougher flared in her gut. Suddenly, she understood how Henry could hatch a plan that was essentially mean-spirited in an effort to bring someone down a notch. She might be a princess, but Olympia could stand to be brought down a notch herself.
