The Duplicitous Debutante (Cotillion Ball)

by Becky Lower

  Henry’s speech took on an icy tone. “Father made the mistake of having an affair with someone who was not a Boston blue blood, and ended up marrying her to make me legitimate. But we both know he considered it a mistake. One he had to live with every day until Maman died. Then, because I resemble her side of the family, he shipped me off as soon as he could, so he and all of Boston didn’t have a daily reminder of his lapse in judgment. He could be welcomed back into Boston’s finest homes again, as long as there was no evidence. I figured it out soon enough. Why else would he let you stay in Boston while I had to leave?”

  “Is that really how you see it, Henry?” Marguerite asked.

  “Is there any other way to interpret his actions? Those are the facts, Marguerite.”

  “Yes, there is a different story, and I’m surprised a romantic such as yourself can’t figure this out. Indeed, he did send you away because you were a constant reminder of Maman. But not because you were a reminder of his lapse in judgment. You were a reminder of the one true love in his life, a love he lost too soon.”

  Henry stared at his sister as her eyes filled with tears before she continued. “I always wondered why you hated Father so. You shut me down every time I’d bring it up in our letters, or totally ignored that part of our correspondence. And all this time, there’s been no need.”

  Henry blinked. In his rage at being sent away from the home and the sister he loved, he had maintained his own version of why he was sent away and ignored Marguerite’s interpretation of events. “So, there’s no need for us to anticipate he’ll sell the company?”

  “Oh, I think we need to plan for that. But because of me this time, Henry, not you. However, our plans are in place, and I believe we’re doing the right thing. Now, are you going to tell me when you plan to propose to Rosemary?”

  Henry’s head whipped up as he locked eyes with his sister. “How did you know?”

  Marguerite placed her napkin on the table and shifted in her chair. “Well, it’s so obvious you two are in love with each other. Why are you waiting?”

  “Because she has a very big secret she hasn’t told me yet. I truly thought this evening, with the announcement of our plans, she would end her duplicity. But she chose to avoid it again. Until she reveals all of herself to me, I can’t propose.”

  • • •

  Several days later, Rosemary and Marguerite, along with Dorcas, emerged from the hatmaker’s shop, laughing as they juggled the large hatboxes and their other purchases.

  “Maybe we need to place our new hats in the carriage before we go to lunch.” Rosemary motioned with her head to the waiting conveyance with Robert, the groomsman, at the helm. He climbed down from the seat and assisted the ladies as they divested themselves of their packages before moving on to the restaurant for the meal.

  As they settled themselves around the table, Rosemary took a moment to contemplate the two women sitting with her. She was intrigued by them both. Marguerite, because she was a connection to Henry, and Dorcas, because she was brimming over with some news she had yet to reveal. Rosemary hadn’t had a chance to caution Dorcas on not saying anything to Marguerite about F.P. Elliott. So she was sending up silent prayers as she surveyed the pink linen tablecloth and the bouquet of baby’s breath and roses, in shades of pink, from one so pale it was almost white to one on the opposite end of the spectrum, a deep, rosy color. She reached out and touched a petal, luxuriating in its softness. Henry’s lips are this soft.

  Gasping a bit at her wayward thoughts, she glanced up into Marguerite’s eyes. Her smile was enigmatic, and it flustered Rosemary. That’s the way Mother smiles when she’s on to something. Does Marguerite know I’m familiar with Henry’s lips? Oh dear. She turned her attention to Dorcas instead.

  “So, my dear, you’ve been fairly bursting to tell us something since we picked you up. What is it?”

  Dorcas grabbed one of Rosemary’s hands and one of Marguerite’s, and squeezed them tightly. “I do have big news. Hold on to your new hats, ladies. I’m getting married!”

  “Congratulations!” Marguerite squealed.

  “What?” Rosemary dropped Dorcas’s hand. “This isn’t even a bit funny, Dorcas.”

  “You’re absolutely right, it’s not funny. But it is wonderful, and exciting.”

  “Who is it? You’ve not said a word about any gentleman to me.”

  Dorcas rolled her eyes. “Yes, I have. But, as usual, you had your head in the clouds and weren’t listening. I must say, as best friends go, you’ve been remarkably absent since the Cotillion.”

  “I’ve been kind of busy,” Rosemary bristled.

  Dorcas glanced from her friend to Marguerite and back again. “Yes, I know. Your ‘Uncle Frank’ has been keeping you running. That, and your fencing lessons with Henry Cooper.” She returned her gaze to Marguerite. “Can you believe Rosemary’s taken up fencing?”

  Rosemary was desperate to redirect the conversation. “So, tell me now. Who is your young man?”

  “We met the night of the ball, shortly after you caused such a scene by fainting and left. I told you the doctor who worked on you and I spent the remainder of the evening together after you left.”

  “I do remember you telling me that, but I was unaware you were continuing to see him.”

  “Well, fortunately, he agreed to continue our discussion after the Cotillion. Phillip is quite handsome. And charming. When he discovered we had mutual interests, he began calling on me. And as you say, you have been busy since the Cotillion. A girl has to fill up the time somehow.”

  Marguerite interrupted Dorcas. “Wait! I need to catch up.” She turned to Rosemary. “You passed out at your own Cotillion?”

  “Yes, but it’s of no consequence. Let’s hear more about Dorcas’s young man.”

  Dorcas glanced at Marguerite. “She doesn’t want you to know she passed out when she spied Henry at the ball. That’s the kind of effect he has on her, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  Rosemary placed her hands on her cheeks, hoping to staunch the heat rising into them. Leave it to Dorcas to totally humiliate her. And to show no regret about it.

  Marguerite smiled over at her and pulled one of her hands from her cheek in order to capture it with her own. “Henry is a very good-looking man, isn’t he? It’s no wonder you are infatuated with him.”

  Rosemary removed her hand from Marguerite’s. “I am not infatuated with your brother.”

  “Yes, you are,” Dorcas replied.

  Damn her, anyway.

  “Yes, you are.” Marguerite nodded in agreement. “And, if it is any consolation, he’s as entranced by you as you are by him.”

  “Really?” Rosemary and Dorcas asked in the same breath

  Marguerite smiled and picked up her teacup. “Yes, really. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he proposes soon. But we’re getting away from the subject of Dorcas and her young man. Do tell, Dorcas. And we want all the details about your Phillip.”

  While Rosemary truly did want to know everything about Dorcas and her beau, she was ready to pounce all over Marguerite and her statement about Henry’s intentions toward her. Dorcas’s timing was really awful. But she was Rosemary’s dearest friend, and this behavior was nothing new. In fact, it was typical of Dorcas. Rosemary corralled her wayward thoughts and settled back.

  “Yes, Dorcas, do tell. And don’t leave out a drop of detail.” She gave an enigmatic smile back to Marguerite. There. She could return to Henry’s side and tell him Rosemary was not at all fazed by the notion Henry might propose.

  • • •

  Marguerite had been deposited back at her private quarters above the publishing house, and Dorcas and Rosemary were finally alone in the carriage. Rosemary’s gaze flickered over Dorcas’s face. She still seemed excited by the events of the day and by her big revelation. Rosemary hoped she could pay proper penance, took a deep breath, and crossed her fingers.

  “I’m a horrible friend.”

  Dorcas’s lips curled int
o a smile. “Yes, you are. I won’t even debate you on the issue by saying you’ve had enough of your own problems to pay attention to mine.”

  “But I have had my own problems,” Rosemary replied. “And fencing lessons.”

  Dorcas pretended to bristle. “Not a good enough excuse, although the lessons sound delightful. Next I suppose you’ll be telling me you’re too busy to be in the wedding party.”

  “No! Of course not. May I be your maid of honor?”

  Dorcas rose and moved to Rosemary’s side. She wrapped an arm around her. “Yes, you may. You’re forgiven. But just for spite, I may pick a color of a gown for you that will totally wash you out. I want all eyes on me on my wedding day.”

  Rosemary grinned. “Even though you’d be well within your rights, you’re not so mean as to do something extreme. Besides, Jasmine won’t let you.”

  She draped her arm around Dorcas so they were joined together, similar to the braid Rosemary carried in her chatelaine. “Tell me all about this Phillip. How did you get him to propose to you so quickly? Maybe I can use your tricks on Henry.”

  “So you are interested in him, are you? Even though you tried to show his sister you had no feelings, I could tell you were lying!”

  Rosemary grinned. “Thank you for not revealing to Marguerite that I’m the real author behind F.P. Elliott. She’s going to join Henry in the business, and I don’t want her knowing who I am before I tell Henry. I was so worried all during our day out since I didn’t have a chance to caution you.”

  Dorcas straightened beside Rosemary. “Yet I picked right up on it, didn’t I? See? I can be as secretive as your family.”

  “And, as for the family, I’m sure Mother and Papa would love to meet Phillip, too. Why don’t we plan on hosting you two for dinner some night next week? I’d love to see him some time when I’m awake, not when he’s administering smelling salts.”

  “I’m sure Phillip will agree to a dinner. You are my best friend, after all. And, if it wasn’t for you, we may never have met. As for trickery, I didn’t have to use any to get him to propose. He came calling the day after the ball, and brought flowers for both me and Mother. We went out a few times following his initial visit, and I was smitten right away. But I had no clue he was of the same mind until the night he came over for dinner. He asked Father for a private moment in the library, then took me into the parlor and dropped to one knee. I was shocked, but in a good way. Just think of it. I’ll soon be known as Dorcas Rosecroft. Doesn’t it sound delicious?”

  “Such a whirlwind we’ve both been on since the ball.”

  Dorcas settled back onto the seat once again. “When do you plan to reveal all to Henry?”

  “Well, now that I know how he feels about women in the work force, I suppose I can tell him any time without fear of his reprisal. But I want to finish up the last Harry Hawk story before I tell him. It just seems a neater way to wrap things up.”

  “So how are you going to set up the big reveal? Will you be fencing with him at the time? That might be best. A man would have a hard time saying no if you’re holding a knife to his throat.”

  Rosemary laughed. “Henry would never allow himself to be placed in such a vulnerable spot. I swear, the man is a cat when he has a sword in his hands. Just when I think I might get the upper hand, he astonishes me with a mere flick of his wrist, and suddenly, I’m backed into a corner.”

  “Mmmm, sounds delicious. I love it when Phillip backs me into a corner, then demands kisses before he releases me. Is that what Henry does, too?”

  Rosemary shrugged out of Dorcas’s embrace. “We’re getting off the subject, aren’t we? My big reveal is not going to be any earth-shattering experience. I’ll simply walk in with the folder containing the new story, tell him who I really am, and that will be it. I’ll allow him an easy out if he decides because of my duplicity that he can’t work with me anymore. But I’m hoping he’ll ask me to stay on. He and Marguerite have marvelous expansion plans for the business and I want to be part of them. Now that he’s got his sister by his side, I’m a bit more certain he won’t object to a female F.P. Elliott.”

  “How can he? Obviously, you’re one of his best authors. And even if you weren’t, you’re the woman he’s in love with. You’ll be a part of Cooper and Son one way or another. Maybe it should now be called Cooper and Company, since Marguerite is most definitely a lady.”

  “She is that, isn’t she? We should fix her up with someone. Whom do we know?”

  Dorcas chewed her lip while she contemplated the question. “It’s been hard enough for us to find men for ourselves. I don’t think there are any left for Marguerite. All your brothers are already married, except for Valerian, and he’s way too young. How about my brother?”

  “Wouldn’t that be fun? If Marguerite marries your brother, and I marry Henry, we’d be sisters-in-law!”

  “I always wanted to be a permanent member of your family. Let’s work on it. Maybe I’ll have Wendell come along to dinner at your house next week. Then you can invite the Coopers, and we can see what, if anything, develops.”

  “And I’ll have to see what, if anything, develops with Henry.”

  • • •

  “Mother, I need your assistance,” Rosemary proclaimed as she slid into a seat in the parlor later in the day. Her mother turned from the window where she was staring out at the traffic on the streets. Rosemary was surprised to see tears on her mother’s cheeks.

  “Of course, dear.” Charlotte took a seat beside her daughter, quickly scrubbing all vestiges of dampness from her face. “What is it you need?”

  “Forget about me. Whatever is wrong with you? Why are you crying?” Rosemary wrapped her arms around her mother, inhaling her familiar scent.

  Charlotte ran a hand over her daughter’s hair. “Because I’m a silly old woman, that’s why. My children are leaving the nest one at a time.”

  “Isn’t it what you wished for? My goodness, Mother, it’s been your life’s mission to see to it all your children find their proper mates and marry.”

  “Yes, of course it is. I adore all my children’s choices for husbands and wives. But I do so miss the days when we were all here and the house was stuffed with small children.”

  “But you have grandchildren now to keep you busy.”

  “Ah, yes, the grandchildren. But they go home at the end of the day, leaving your father and me to clank around this big empty house by ourselves. But enough of me being sorry for myself. What is it you need?”

  Rosemary smiled slightly. “I’m afraid I’m going to make matters worse, if you’re lamenting your children leaving home.”

  “Henry proposed? Finally?”

  “No, not yet. But I’m going to reveal to him soon who I really am, and I’m hoping he’ll not only offer to extend my contract with him as an author, but also as a soul mate.”

  Her mother clasped Rosemary’s hands. “Darling, that’s wonderful. I think, now since he’s invited his sister to work with him, your timing is impeccable.”

  “And speaking of Marguerite, Dorcas wants to arrange an introduction between her brother, Wendell, and Marguerite. I thought we could invite everyone to dinner next week. Hopefully, by then, we can celebrate my engagement to Henry, along with Dorcas’s engagement to Phillip Rosecroft.”

  Charlotte straightened in her chair. “Rosecroft? Isn’t that the name of the doctor who took care of you during the ball? How did Dorcas meet him? And to get engaged so quickly? And why am I only now hearing about it?”

  “Yes, the doctor is the same one who took care of me at the Cotillion. They met at the ball. After we left, Dorcas and the good doctor were left alone in the room, and you know Dorcas. She can talk to anyone, given any slight opening. They ended up talking together the remainder of the evening. Then he called at the house the next day, and they’ve been on this whirlwind courtship ever since. And I’ve been such a bad friend, so wrapped up in my own crisis, I didn’t even realize what was happening.”


  “So is the dinner what you needed my assistance with? Of course, we may plan a celebratory dinner for Dorcas and her Mr. Rosecroft, and invite the Coopers.”

  “Well, I did want to make certain an engagement dinner was all right before I extend the invitation to all parties. But I also wanted to ask if Henry proposes, as you all think he will, do you think Dorcas and I can be married on the same day? How long would it take for you to plan a wedding?”

  “Darling, as much as I love the idea of you and your best friend marrying on the same day, I would hate for you to jinx yourself. Henry hasn’t proposed yet, despite our best efforts. He’s definitely interested in you, but only as Rosemary Fitzpatrick. Once you tell him you’re F.P. Elliott, things might change. It’s best, at this juncture, to let Dorcas have her own wedding.”

  “I’m aware Henry’s feelings might change, Mother, which is why I’ve been loath to say anything. He’s gone against his father’s wishes by bringing his sister here and giving her a job in the company, but family is one thing. A potential mate is another. And I’ve been so shamelessly crafty around him, first passing myself off as a secretary, and now as a niece of the true author. I don’t know how many times Henry will forgive my subterfuge.”

  “There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there? Go to him with your final story in the series, reveal yourself, and see what happens. Unless I miss my guess completely, he’ll fall to one knee and ask for your hand. How could he not?”

  “I wish I had your confidence, Mother.”

  “When have I ever been wrong, especially when it comes to love?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Toss him a weapon,” the pirate yelled to one of his men. Harry was thrown a sword. He held it in his hand, attempting to get the feel of it, as the pirate, dragging Penelope, moved closer.

  Harry thwarted a couple of the pirate’s advances by sheer strength. When the pirate realized Harry wouldn’t go down without a fight, he released Penelope and got into correct fighting stance.