by Geneva Lee
“You’re going into battle, and clothes are your armor,” she advised me, sifting through the contents of the closet, one hanger at a time. “Your wit is your weapon. Wield both wisely.”
I stayed silent, considering her words, as she held up one dress followed by another until she finally held one to me and smiled widely.
“This one.”
She held it against me as I turned to study the mirror. It was nothing like what Caroline had suggested. I expected it would upset Spencer’s mother to have me wear it. But there was no denying that it was a statement.
“This will send a message,” Iris whispered.
“Which is?”
“That you’re a queen, and queens hold all the true power.”
I stared at the mirror, wondering if it was possible for a dress to convey all of that. Somehow, though, I knew she was right. Without me, Tod Belmond would be screwed, and the Byrds would lose out on my family’s fortune and connections. I was the most powerful player on the board because I had nothing to lose.
“You have an event tonight, no?” Camille, the facial expert as she’d been introduced to me a few moments ago, asked with a heavy French accent.
“Yes. I mean, no. I’m sorry, what was the question?” I stammered, still feeling anxious about what waited for me this evening.
“You are going to a party tonight?” she repeated a little more slowly.
I nodded. “A dinner or a ball.” God, she probably thought I was an idiot. I prayed she didn’t ask me about my skincare regime or my travels. I was struggling enough with facts that I didn’t want to have to make up lies. “I just know it’s important.”
“I will be gentle then.” She stood behind me, her eyes watching mine in the colossal bathroom’s mirror. Her hand reached and took my chin, tilted my head to study me. “Have you been wearing sunscreen?”
“I try to avoid the sun,” I said without thinking and my stomach flipped over. Where was it that everyone thought Kerrigan had been? New York? The South of France? I had to remember that. No one would believe that a wealthy, beautiful woman had gone to the Mediterranean and stayed out of the sun.
But Camille didn’t seem to think anything of my answer. “Good girl. The sun will ruin your skin. Hats and sunscreen, remember?”
I suspected she’d given this lecture before, but I nodded anyway.
“Thankfully, your skin is quite clear, so we will make you glow.” She lowered her voice, a hint of a smile reflected by the mirror. “Just like you’ve woken up with a lover.”
I bit my lip and hoped I wouldn’t blush.
I didn’t know what to expect as I climbed onto the small table she had set up near the sunken tub. It had been covered with crisp, white sheets. As I laid down, she covered me with a fresh one, tucking it around me before gently placing a rolled towel under my neck.
“Good?” she said softly.
“Hmm.” I sighed more than answered.
Camille wrapped another towel around my head, this one slightly warm. “Relax, cherie. You seem very tense.”
“It’s a big night,” I admitted to her. “I’m announcing my engagement.” Maybe confronting this sudden change in circumstances would make it easier to handle later this evening. The words felt funny coming out of my mouth as if they belonged to someone else. In a way, they did. But nothing could change the fact that I was the one who would be accepting well-wishes and taking Spencer’s arm tonight. I had to be ready for it.
“Congratulations! We will make you extra beautiful.” She clapped her hands lightly. “Close your eyes.”
I did as she instructed and she placed two cool gel pads over them. I relaxed into the comfortable situation I found myself in, hoping I didn’t fall asleep but already feeling tired.
Camille lifted my hand. “Do you have a ring?”
“Not yet,” I murmured. Would I? Would he give it to me tonight? Would others ask? I couldn’t imagine a diamond on my finger and yet, it was another almost certainty confronting me.
“We will do a little something for your skin here.” She massaged cream into my hand. “You must moisturize. It looks as if you’ve been doing dishes.” She laughed. No doubt the thought of Kerrigan Belmond with her hands in soapy water, was hilarious to those that knew her. I, however, had been washing dishes only a few days ago. She continued to rub the lotion into my skin. When she finished she wrapped a steamed towel around it. She repeated the process on the other side. By the time she was finished, I’d nearly fallen asleep.
Camille worked quietly, humming slightly under her breath, while she applied serums and lotions and whatever other magic she carried with her to appointments. She paused occasionally to place a warm towel on my face, wrapping it so only my nostrils were exposed. I drifted between sleep and awake as she worked.
When she finally removed the last towel, she applied one final lightweight liquid to my skin.
“Miss Belmond,” she called through my bliss-soaked haze, “you’re finished.”
“Call me Ka-K,” I managed to correct myself in time, choosing the nickname I’d given Giles to use. I took my time sitting up. My whole body felt loose and relaxed as she handed me a mirror.
“I think you are going to give your fiancé indecent thoughts this evening,” she told me with a wink.
My skin radiated a subtle glow that made my whole face look brightened and flawless. “Was that the creams you used or magic?”
She laughed. “A little bit of both.”
Camille reached into her bag and brought out a jar. Placing it on the counter, she pointed to it. “Use that on your hands morning and night. It will make them soft again.”
“I will,” I promised, reaching to rub them and finding they already felt silky soft.
“And let me know when you have set a date for the big day. I will put it on my calendar.”
I swallowed, doing my best to look excited at the idea of my upcoming wedding. Thankfully, she was already packing up her things and didn’t seem to notice. A year from now, it would be Kerrigan here getting a facial before her big day. It almost made me jealous, considering how good it felt. Then I remembered that a year from now I would be able to afford facials and other luxuries. I made up my mind then that a year from now I would celebrate my newfound independence by booking facials for myself and Eliza before I finally fled England.
I found Iris waiting for me in her own room.
“I had a light lunch brought up.”
“Thanks. I’m starving.” I took one of the sandwiches and nibbled delicately.
“I’m always hungry after a facial. I think it opens my pores and my stomach,” she said with a giggle.
“Thank you for helping me with the dress,” I said, taking a seat on the opposite side of her sofa.
“Of course. I imagine you’re feeling all sorts of emotions today. I was a nervous wreck when we announced our engagement. I can’t imagine having all of this thrown at you at the last minute.” She sipped from her teacup thoughtfully. “You can talk to me about it. Any time.”
I nodded, wishing that were true. I found myself wanting to open up to her and spill the strange situation I’d found myself in. I wanted to admit how worried I was that I’d find myself drowning before I realized I’d accidentally gotten in over my head. But Iris didn’t know about my arrangement with her husband or the truth about Kerrigan. Not only would it jeopardize the agreement, but it might also cause problems for her own marriage if she found out she’d been lied to. Still, I felt terrible keeping it from her, especially because part of me very much wanted to be her friend.
She can’t be, a cool voice told me in my mind. A year from now, I would be gone. This was temporary. I couldn’t allow myself to build a real relationship with anyone here, even her.
When the hairdresser arrived, I placed my trust entirely in her hands. I didn’t have the slightest idea what to do with my hair. Usually, I threw it up in a messy bun or a ponytail. It had been months since I’d bothered with a trim, a fact the sty
list must have noticed based on the way her nose wrinkled as she analyzed the challenge before her.
“I’m glad we came early,” she announced to us. “You need the full treatment.”
For the next two hours, she cut and colored, chatting nonsense with her friend, who was busy applying a special treatment to Iris’s closely shorn locks. I joined in when I could, but spent most of the time listening. Iris spoke of her family, who lived in Paris. Her mother had been a model, which was no surprise given her daughter’s beauty. Iris herself had split her time between the French capital and London, where she performed with the Royal Ballet until Tod Belmond swept her off her feet at a charity gala.
“I wondered how you met,” I said with a sigh.
Iris cocked her head with a strange expression. “You were there. Although, I don’t believe we met.”
“That’s right,” I said quickly. “One gala bleeds into another.”
Iris snorted. “I had no idea the wealthy spent every week saving something endangered by throwing money at auctioneers.”
I could almost picture the scene of which she spoke: women in beautiful gowns sipping champagne but not daring to have too much, men in tuxedos making business deals, a dance floor and crystal, and a whole different world that I’d only ever experienced in fairy stories. After tonight, I would have firsthand experience with that world. Tonight I would be the innocent princess offered as a willing tribute to a stranger. Next week there might be another ball, another dinner, another spectacle to attend. Why did my first event have to shine such a light on me? I wasn’t ready. I wished Tod had asked me before he agreed to this evening. Then again, maybe he’d known all along and that was why he’d been so desperate when he sought me out in Bexby. He could have warned me, though.
Each second that ticked by seemed to press against my shoulders, forcing me under its weight. Each minute was like a surge of water battering me as the riptide dragged me down. I fell silent as I battled the panic attack threatening to overcome me. Iris fell into an easy conversation with the stylists and I tuned my attention to it. After a few minutes, the terrible sensation of drowning began to ebb away, evaporating as quickly as it had overwhelmed me.
My stylist had proceeded to teasing and curling my hair while she gossiped with the others and when she finally let me see what she was doing, I discovered another transformation had been made. My hair was slightly darker, or at least richer in color. There was no sign of dullness or frizz. Instead, it had been swept into a loose, but elegant updo that showed off the curve of my neck.
“I can change it,” she told me when I remained silent too long.
“No,” I cried out. “I love it.”
“It will show off your shoulders in that dress,” Iris added.
We spent the remainder of the late afternoon, being plucked, lined, and painted by yet another crew of make-up artists. I wanted to ask if I would be expected to put this much effort into every event I attended, but I decided it was safer to wait and ask Giles.
When the time finally came for me to slip into my dress, every remnant of Kate was gone. I had completely morphed into Kerrigan now. I had her hair, her clothes, even her precious shoes. But would I actually pass for her?
As I left my room, I made my way toward the staircase, pausing near the banister when I heard voices below.
“We’re going to be late,” Tod Belmond stormed, pacing the length of the foyer and checking his watch.
“It’s not even seven, darling,” Iris said in a soothing voice. She’d opted to wear a gold gown that showed off her dancer’s body and brought out the deep tones of her skin. It definitely wasn’t as daring as the gown she had chosen for me to wear tonight.
Caroline had wanted me to wear white, but Iris had pushed me towards the opposite end of the spectrum. I smoothed the black lace down and hoped I looked alright. My dress had long sleeves that stopped at the wrist, the lace showing flashes of my pale skin. It dipped low, carving an elegant but slightly provocative line from my cleavage to my arms, leaving my shoulders bare before dipping even lower in the back. It flowed along the curves of my body flaring slightly around my ankles. Unlike the arms, the gown itself was lined with a thin nude fabric that made it look as though I was wearing nothing else beneath. I reached down and lifted my skirt at the thighs ever so slightly so I could see my feet as I began my descent down the stairs. The dress went perfectly with the peekaboo heels I’d chosen early, and I’d been surprised to find that despite their height, they weren’t difficult to walk in. Still, after wasting an entire day getting pretty, I wasn’t going to fall ass over tea kettle down the steps and wind up in an ambulance.
When I reached the fifth step down, Tod stopped and turned, his mouth open as if to call out. But whatever he planned to say to me died on his lips. I nearly froze myself, worrying that I’d already messed up. Had I done something his daughter would never do? Worn my hair the wrong way or chosen the wrong shade of lipstick? I’d trusted the people that came here today, assuming they would treat me as they had always done to her. Maybe I shouldn’t have assumed.
But when I stepped onto the landing, Tod caught my hand. “You look beautiful, Kerrigan. Spencer will be pleased.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, feeling suddenly shy.
He must have noticed because he released my hand and crooked his arm to his wife. “You’ll follow behind us in the Maybach.”
“I’m not going with you?” I blurted out. “Why did you wait for me?”
“I simply wanted to be certain you got out the door on time. Punctuality hasn’t always been your defining characteristic. And you may wish to stay longer than us.”
I tried to ignore the implication of those words. I might want to seal the deal with Spencer—or rather, he might expect me to go to his bed. Then there was the other reason, Tod had waited. He wanted to see me himself, to know if his scheme would work or if he had to call everything off. I made a mental note, though, that Kerrigan favored tardiness. It was little things like that which might help me pass for her.
A driver helped me into the back of the Maybach as Tod helped Iris into the backseat of a black limousine. Their car had already started down the drive as my driver took the wheel of the Mercedes.
“Ready, Miss?” he asked.
Part of me wanted to say no and run back into the house. I could change and be gone before Tod Belmond realized I wasn’t behind them. Despite all that I had done so far, I sensed that tonight the final line would be crossed. After this evening, there would be no turning back. I would be trapped in the arrangement until time or my double set me free.
I thought about the ten million pounds. One year of taking orders. One year of playing a part. And then I would never belong to anyone again.
“Yes,” I said. As he drove away, I didn’t bother to look back.
Chapter Thirteen
It turned out that I wouldn’t have gotten far had I decided to run because in less than five minutes’ time the car turned into a drive and paused to speak with the security guard at the gate. A moment later, the gates opened revealing my first glimpse of Sparrow Court, the Byrd’s family home. If I had been impressed with Willoughby Place, this residence actually intimidated me. The house itself sat a good way from the road, far enough that it might have looked small in the distance if it weren’t so terribly palatial. The drive had been lined with spotlights that were turned on despite it still being twilight, giving the feeling of making a grand entrance from the moment we drove onto the property. The drive itself was paved with bricks, but I didn’t feel the slightest bump thanks to the smooth ride of the Maybach. We rounded the circular drive, pulling past a fountain featuring three female statues, breasts bare, holding large pots from which water flowed to the pool below. Flowers floated in the water next to small candles which flickered romantically. The Mercedes paused and a gloved attendant opened the door.
“Miss Belmond.” He offered me his hand and I took it.
Rising out of the c
ar, I swallowed a gasp at the scene in front of me. The staircase leading into the main entrance had been draped with white flowers of all types. Roses, lilies, peonies, and other varieties too exotic for me to name mixed with twisting ivy vines. Even from here the delicate floral bouquet perfumed the air. Lanterns had been placed at the far end of each step. Suddenly, I understood why Caroline had wanted me to wear white. She wanted me to look the part of the innocent, blushing bride. I found myself wondering if this was simply a party to announce an engagement, what would the actual wedding be like?
I glanced around looking for Tod and Iris, but they were nowhere in sight. Other than a few others arriving, I was alone. I thanked the attendant for his help and took a single step toward the party, hesitating for a moment and wishing I had made Giles sit in the car, after all. I turned my head slightly at the sound of an engine in time to see the driver pull away, off to wherever he was expected to wait until I called for him. I had no choice but to go inside and hope I didn’t trip down the staircase or make an unintentional blunder. A group that arrived after me chatted animatedly as they went ahead, entering without so much as a pause. I could do that, I decided. One foot in front of the other until I was inside, and then I would make the next right move. But as the partygoers climbed the stairs, a man stepped around them, wearing a tuxedo that showcased his broad shoulders and athletic build. I blinked when I saw him, but the rest of my body refused to budge momentarily. It was him. I’d seen him for only a moment across the restaurant, but I recognized him both from that distant encounter and my shameless internet stalking.
You are Kerrigan Belmond tonight, I told myself as I plastered a dazzling smile on my face. I looked like her. I was dressed like her. I merely had to act like her. She wouldn’t freeze at the prospect of facing a childhood acquaintance no matter how circumstances had changed since her youth. I continued on until I was close enough to touch him.
He extended a hand. “You look lovely tonight, Kerrigan. It’s been too long since we saw each other. It almost makes me wish I’d chosen Oxford over St. Andrew’s.”
