by Stella Riley
‘No! Of course I haven’t – how could you think --?’ she began. And then stopped abruptly as a previously unsuspected truth hit her like a blow. She thought, Oh. That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why Belle didn’t want to come to London and wouldn’t consider marriage. Why didn’t I guess? And why on earth didn’t she tell me?
‘Clearly, I am wrong,’ Ralph was saying. ‘I sincerely beg your pardon.’
‘You n-need not. What you told me was – was kindly meant.’
‘It was.’ His smile was full of rueful amusement. ‘But most ladies would have slapped my face before recognising that.’
That smile did what his words had not. Elizabeth looked at him and, for the first time, let loose the feelings that had been building since the day she had met him … all of them adding up to one thing. She didn’t merely like Ralph Sherbourne; she was physically attracted to him in a way she hadn’t known existed. When he smiled, her pulse tripped and when he touched her, heat flared in unexpected places. She tried to imagine what it might be like to be kissed by him … regretting that she would never know. Now, looking at him, she realised something vital. She would certainly never know if she didn’t harness her courage while he was offering her the chance. So she looked him in the eye and, before she could think better of it, said rapidly, ‘You spoke of trust earlier … and having given me yours, you deserve no less from me. I can’t marry anyone because I – I’m not who everyone thinks I am. Who you think I am.’
Ralph took a second to wonder if she meant this literally. On a faint note of incredulity, he said, ‘You are an imposter?’
‘No!’ cried Elizabeth, aghast. And then miserably, as the truth of it struck her, ‘I’ve never thought of it in that way … but yes. I suppose that is exactly what I am.’
‘How intriguing.’ With unimpaired calm yet also a certain amusement, he replaced her hand on his sleeve and said, ‘Why don’t you tell me about it?’
She stole a quick glance at his face, wondering if he really was as unmoved as he sounded. Since he did not look shocked or even disapproving, she drew a bracing breath and said, ‘I am not Arabella Brandon. My name is Elizabeth Marsden. Arabella is my cousin and we – we agreed to change places for a time. It is she who should be here, not me.’
Out of the half dozen questions that immediately suggested themselves, Ralph eventually said, ‘Well, that is not something I would ever have guessed. Does Rockliffe know?’ And when she shook her head, ‘Really? My congratulations. He is not an easy man to deceive. Indeed, many would say it cannot be done.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ sighed Elizabeth. ‘But the only person who seems to have guessed is Belle’s eldest brother.’ She hesitated. ‘You will be wondering why we did it.’
‘Somewhat. Why did you?’
She drew a long, bracing breath and, in as few words as possible, told him. At the end and without giving him chance to speak, she said, ‘So there you have it. I’m Lizzie Marsden of St Mary’s vicarage – and you can’t imagine how often I’ve wished I’d never let Belle talk me into this. She may be comfortable with it but I just feel guiltier by the day.’
Distantly, Ralph wondered why what he had just learned mattered less than might have been expected. ‘You haven’t confided in anyone else? Mistress Audley or Lady Sarre, for example?’
Elizabeth shuddered. ‘No. Heaven only knows what they would think – or what you do, for that matter. Why aren’t you shocked?’
‘My dear, I am too busy being stunned by your audacity,’ he replied truthfully. ‘And I would dearly love to see Rockliffe’s face when you bring the curtain down on your little comedy. However, you need not fear that I shall tell him … though I would advise you to do so. He will take it much better than if he hears it some other way.’
‘I know. And if it was just about me, I’d probably have told him already. But it isn’t – so I can’t.’ She stopped walking and looked up at him, seeing the hint of laughter lurking behind his eyes. ‘You ought to be angry. I don’t understand why you’re not. But it’s a relief to have told you. And at least now you understand why – why I can’t think of marriage.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Ralph enigmatically. ‘Yes. At least I understand that.’
* * *
Two days later and just in time for dinner, Rockliffe and Arabella arrived in St James Square. While Arabella took in the magnificence of her surroundings, the duke handed his hat and cloak to the butler and ascertained that the duchess was in the drawing-room but had invited no additional company.
Rockliffe nodded and then glanced quizzically at Arabella. ‘Shall we?’
‘Are you sure you ought not to warn Lizzie?’ Three days spent travelling with Rockliffe had largely banished Arabella’s initial awe. ‘What if she faints?’
‘Let us hope that she doesn’t.’
As soon as the door opened, Adeline was at Elizabeth’s side. For the merest instant, Elizabeth glanced questioningly up at her … then her gaze drifted, first to the duke and finally to the figure beside him. Eyes widening and hands creeping to her mouth, she rose whispering, ‘Belle?’
Arabella flew across the room to seize her cousin in a hard hug.
‘It’s all right, Lizzie. The duke says it can be straightened out without too much harm if we do it together. And – oh, I’m so happy to see you!’ With an apologetic glance for Adeline, she said, ‘Forgive me… but you see …?’
‘I do – and there is no need to apologise, Arabella. It was bound to be a shock.’ Adeline directed a mildly astringent look at her husband and added, ‘Your habit of producing rabbits out of hats is not always the best policy.’
‘I am duly rebuked,’ he murmured, not looking in the least chastened and crossing to kiss first her hand and then her cheek.
Meanwhile, the colour draining slowly from her face, Elizabeth stood passively in her cousin’s embrace and stared blankly across at the duke.
‘How long have you known?’ she asked. ‘How did you know? And why – why didn’t you say anything to me? I feel so stupid.’
‘You need not,’ said Rockliffe. ‘Before I met Arabella, I had only a handful of suspicions which might have been wholly incorrect.’
‘Lizzie?’ Arabella gave her a little shake. ‘How do you think I felt when he arrived and introduced himself?’
Elizabeth shook her head. ‘It’s not the same. I must have done something wrong. I --’
‘You weren’t as stupid as me – writing all that stuff about crawling around the attics with the children, without having the sense to realise that of course our mothers would share the letters, which meant Max was bound to read them too. So stop crying over spilled milk. Aren’t you at all pleased to see me?’
Managing a weak smile, Elizabeth said, ‘Yes – yes, of course I am.’
Arabella nodded, released her and turned to curtsy to the duchess, saying, ‘I’m truly sorry for any trouble and you mustn’t blame Lizzie. It was all my idea. But the duke says that if we pretend it was just a foolish prank, people may not blame us too much.’
‘Does he indeed? Then we must hope that he is right.’ Adeline took Arabella’s hands in hers and smiled. ‘Meanwhile, welcome to London, my dear. The room next to Elizabeth’s has been prepared for you and I daresay you will want to reclaim one of your own gowns. I will have dinner set back a half hour. Any longer than that and I fear Cook may give notice.’
Upstairs, with Annie in nearly as big a state of shock as Elizabeth, Arabella said, ‘Half an hour, the duchess said – so we must make haste. Which gown can I wear?’
‘Whichever you like – they’re yours, after all. Belle, there’s too much to take in. Aside from coming to find you, what else has the duke done? Has he written to our families? Because if he has, Papa will demand that I go home immediately.’
‘You can’t.’ Arabella stepped out of the blue wool gown and headed for the wash-stand. ‘Rockliffe wants us both here until everybody’s got used to the idea that I’m you and you’r
e me and that our masquerade was just a silly hoax.’
Annie looked around from where she was laying out a blue-grey taffeta gown.
‘He reckons that’s going to work, does he? That folk will say Oh, just a bit of girlish fun, was it? Well, that’s all right then.’ She shook her head. ‘I doubt it.’
‘Have you got a better idea?’ asked Arabella, patting her face dry.
‘No. But --’
‘Then we’ll assume Rockliffe knows best.’ She stepped into the gown and stood still while the maid laced her into it. ‘Speaking for myself, I’ll be glad to be done with the pretence. Won’t you, Lizzie?’
‘Yes.’ With Annie still in the room, Elizabeth deferred admitting that she had already confided in Ralph Sherbourne. ‘But what did Lord Chalfont say? Was he furious?’
‘No. He said it didn’t matter because I was still me.’
‘Really?’ Elizabeth looked mildly sceptical. ‘Did he mean it?’
‘Yes. Julian doesn’t know how to lie … and he’s not much good at saying the right thing, either.’ Sitting down so that Annie could deal with her hair, she said, ‘The only part he couldn’t cope with was the possibility that, if I left, I’d never go back. But --’
‘Go back?’ exclaimed Annie, shocked. ‘Of course you’re not going back, Miss Belle! The very idea! How could you think it?’
Correctly interpreting the glance Arabella sent her in the mirror, Elizabeth took the brush from the maid’s hand, saying, ‘Thank you, Annie. I’ll finish this while you explain the situation to Jeanne and ask what she suggests telling the rest of the staff.’
‘Ha!’ snorted Annie. ‘That’s going to be fun, isn’t it?’
When she had gone, Elizabeth said, ‘Well?’
‘I love him, Lizzie. He’s kind and sweet and shy and so beautiful he takes my breath away.’ Arabella briefly described the events of the morning of her departure from Chalfont, finishing with, ‘When he ran after the carriage and held me as if he was never going to let go, I understood what people mean when they say they felt as if their heart might burst.’ She stopped, holding the other girl’s eyes in the mirror. ‘He needs me, Lizzie. I know he does. And when he plays … I can’t begin to describe it except to say that he makes magic.’
Continuing to pin up her cousin’s hair, Elizabeth said, ‘Are you hoping to marry him?’
A shadow crept into the dark eyes. ‘I haven’t thought of it.’
‘Why not – if you love him?’
Arabella shrugged, said nothing and stared down at her hands.
Suddenly certain that her suspicions were correct, Elizabeth said quietly, ‘I think I know why. What I don’t know is why you never told me.’
‘Told you what?’
‘About you and David ... and the real reason you didn’t want to come to London.’
Arabella drew a long breath and discarded any notion of pretending not to understand.
‘I didn’t tell anyone. I was too ashamed. And I thought you would think as badly of me as I did of myself. I – I regretted it so bitterly, you see. I still do. And that’s why I can’t – daren’t – let myself hope. Also, it isn’t as if Julian has ever said anything to suggest that he might want to marry me.’
Frowning a little, Elizabeth said slowly, ‘If it helps, Lord Sherbourne says that anticipating one’s wedding vows with a gentleman one expects to marry but doesn’t, only makes a lady ineligible to a man who is either a saint or a hypocrite.’
The grey eyes grew wide. ‘Well, Julian isn’t either of those. But what on earth made his lordship tell you that?’
‘He thought he was being helpful. He thought he was talking about me. But it made me realise the truth about you – though I didn’t tell him that. I merely said he was mistaken. We were only having the conversation at all because I’d told him I couldn’t marry.’
Ignoring her own circumstances for a moment, Arabella gazed thoughtfully at her cousin’s image in the looking-glass. ‘Has he asked you?’
‘Not in so many words. He just intimated that he was … considering it.’
‘Well, that’s good, isn’t it? Your letters suggested that you liked him.’
‘I do like him. Very much, as it happens. He isn’t sweet or shy … and though he can be kind, that isn’t the first quality anyone would apply to him. He’s elegant and impeccably mannered and – and handsome in a dark, stern sort of way.’
‘So why aren’t you happy?’
‘Because he was considering it before I told him I’m not you,’ replied Elizabeth, as lightly as she was able. ‘That was two days ago – and I haven’t laid eyes on him since then.’
~ * * ~ * * ~
CHAPTER NINETEEN
On the following evening, some of the Duke and Duchess of Rockliffe’s family and friends – together, at Elizabeth’s request, with the Earl of Sherbourne – gathered in St James Square for an informal supper. Surprised to have been invited, Ralph folded his arms and waited to learn why he had been. Thus far, his only clue had been the brief and slightly wild glance thrown at him by Elizabeth.
All suddenly became clear, however, when a second young lady entered the room to stand hand in hand with her. Flags of colour flying in her cheeks, Arabella introduced both herself and her cousin … and then proceeded to confess what they had done and, to a limited degree, what had prompted them to do it.
Only at the very end, did she depart from the truth by saying, ‘It was just intended as a joke. I thought it would be fun to find out if we could get away with it for a little while. It didn’t … it never occurred to either of us that we were involving the duke and duchess in our deceit; that by presenting Lizzie as me they were introducing an imposter to all of you and to the rest of society. It was stupid not to realise that – and I’m sincerely sorry. Indeed, Lizzie and I want to apologise to all of you and hope you will be able to forgive us.’
There was a brief, stunned silence into which Lord Nicholas eventually said, ‘Speaking for myself, I’ll forgive you right now. Anyone who can fool my brother for … how long did it take you to figure it out, Rock?’
‘Long enough,’ sighed his Grace. ‘Thank you for pointing that out, Nicholas.’
‘My pleasure.’
This provoked some laughter and various teasing remarks, all of them at the duke’s expense. Having expected it, Rockliffe merely shrugged and responded with lazy resignation. And Arabella was just beginning to think that she and Elizabeth were going to get away with it much more easily than either of them had dared hope, when Cassandra Audley said, ‘Forgive me if I missed something, Arabella. But where did you say you were while Elizabeth has been here?’
On the journey from Chalfont, Rockliffe had made it plain to Arabella that it was going to be impossible to keep her recent whereabouts out of the story. ‘You may play it down and try to disguise it,’ he had said, ‘but people will ask. Be careful how you answer, do not give away more information than you must – and do not mention the children.
So Arabella smiled brightly and said, ‘In Nottinghamshire. Lizzie had accepted a position as a housekeeper. I went in her place.’
‘A housekeeper?’ echoed Lady Elinor, incredulously. ‘I don’t know whether you’re brave or mad. Why on earth would you want to do that?’
‘It was the only way we could change places. I had to go somewhere, after all. And it was rather nice not being myself for a while.’ Arabella knew there was a way to reduce the flow of questions; a way which, two months ago, she would have been incapable of using but which now, because of Julian, was ridiculously easy. She said, ‘It was especially nice being among people who didn’t know that, after a three-year betrothal, my future husband left it to his brother to tell me that he’d married someone else.’
As she had hoped, everyone looked either sympathetic or shocked. Sebastian Audley broke the silence by saying bracingly, ‘If he was that big a coward, you were well rid of him.’
‘Hear, hear,’ murmured Cassie.
> Arabella thanked them with a grateful smile and left the floor to the duke.
‘I am sure,’ he sighed, humour lurking behind his eyes, ‘that I will never be allowed to live this down. However … a foolish but harmless practical joke is the story we will be telling. Neither Arabella nor Elizabeth will be seen in public until the Queensberry ball on Friday, where they will appear together and be presented as themselves. The general idea is to create a delightful novelty rather than a scandal.’
‘That shouldn’t be difficult,’ grinned Nicholas. ‘Most folk will be too busy enjoying the idea of these two minxes hoaxing you, of all people.’
‘Which should facilitate matters a great deal,’ agreed Rockliffe. ‘But an unexpected development has arisen from Arabella’s sojourn in Nottinghamshire. Her employer there was the new Earl of Chalfont. As some of you may recall, the title was left vacant for over a year while the lawyers hunted for an heir.’ He paused, smiling faintly. ‘I am seldom surprised and almost never impressed but Chalfont has achieved both. He is a musician of rare and extraordinary ability. Consequently, it is my intention to arrange for him to make his London debut under my patronage.’
Amidst a few raised brows and some curious glances, Arabella felt all her nerves go into spasm. Staring incredulously at the duke, she said weakly, ‘Do you mean it? Do you really mean it?’
‘Yes – though not due to your lengthy persuasions. I had decided before I stepped into the carriage.’
She did not need to ask why. ‘Because you’d heard him play.’
‘Because I’d heard him play under less than ideal circum--’
Rockliffe’s words were cut off when Arabella hurled herself on his chest, sobbing, ‘Thank you! Oh – thank you! You don’t – you can’t know what it will mean to him.’
‘I believe I have some inkling,’ he replied, returning her embrace with tolerant amusement before gently taking her shoulders to set her away from him. ‘And though I am naturally delighted you are pleased, I really must ask you to respect my coat.’
