A Ravishing Beauty in Disguise: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Emily Honeyfield

  “But …” Harriet said, anticipating it.

  “But it’s far too dangerous,” he continued.

  “Dangerous?” Harriet said, as though the word was a foreign concept to her.

  “Don’t ask, it’s as if you haven’t already nearly died from it,” William returned. “I was absolutely terrified that night when I found you tied up. Who knows what he might have done to you if I hadn’t arrived in time. That’s not to act over-dramatically. It’s only to speak the truth.”

  “How else do you propose I change the rules of this world?” Harriet said. “Because of me, because of us, the Marquess isn’t going to steal from the poor people of this city any longer. We could rid London of all these sorts of—of upper-crust, self-important imbeciles …”

  “Harriet,” William said, his voice warm, yet firm. “No matter how many people you steal from, you have to understand. There’s always going to be another wretched man, willing to undercut people who are lesser-off than he is. There’s always going to be unfairness in this world.”

  Harriet felt her lower lip bubbling. She willed it to stop, feeling foolish.

  “I just really need you to stop,” William whispered. “It’s absolutely essential that I know, when I’m going to sleep in my bed, that you’re also going to sleep in your bed. I will not be able to rest at all if I think you’re heading out into the night, putting yourself at such risk. You have to promise me.”

  Harriet felt for the first time that if she didn’t agree with this single wish, she might lose him. The answer felt almost automatic, although she wished it could happen any other way.

  “William, I will of course heed your wish.”

  “You don’t sound terribly thrilled.”

  “I will do it on one condition,” Harriet returned.

  “What is that?”

  “The money that we discovered, the money that the Marquess stole,” Harriet said. “I need you to help me return it to the poor people south of the Thames. It cannot linger on at the Marquess’ estate, and it certainly cannot be swept up into whatever legal chaos the Marquess is going to fall into. I think it best if we go uncover it tomorrow and take it to them. After dinner. We sneak out together. Deal?”

  William allowed his head to roll back slightly. “I really am never going to get any sleep as long as you’re around, am I?”

  “I hope not,” Harriet returned.

  **

  The following evening, William arrived at the Arnold estate for dinner in the midst of yet another retelling of what had happened the night before, of course spun out by Lord Arnold himself. To celebrate, he’d invited Zelda, Renata, along with their parents to the festivities, and he held court in front of them, acting out the various events. He was reminiscent of a clown.

  “Uncle Arnold, you’re really too much,” Zelda said, her face scrunching up.

  “Too much? This man, too much for the horrific deeds of the Marquess, that’s for certain,” Lord Arnold said.

  His brother strode towards him and clapped him on the back, booming, “I really didn’t know you had it in you. Quite a thing to celebrate. It’s been the talk of the town. Lord Arnold, bringing peace to London.”

  Renata and Zelda made heavy eye contact. Harriet giggled to herself and then caught William trying to hide his own smile. Lady Arnold entered the room, clapping her hands together to announce dinner. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  They sat for dinner, although Harriet could hardly focus on it. Twice, Zelda pinched her elbow, whispering, “What’s gotten into you? You’re so quiet.”

  Truth be told, Harriet had little in her mind beyond what she and William were going to do that night. It was to be her last night as her alter-ego, yet her first night, truly, as William’s partner. They had to bide by one another’s rules, holding one another up in the process. She was willing to do it.

  Their houseguests stayed on far longer than Harriet had initially thought they would, a fact that made Harriet anxious and jittery. After Zelda and Renata had grown far tipsier than was necessary, their father and mother announced it was time to return home—and Harriet and William made intense eye contact across the room.

  Harriet had hardly eaten at all, due to nerves, and now felt spry and agile, ready to ride on horseback. She nodded just once to him, her eyes alight.

  Harriet waited until just after eleven-thirty to don her black cape and black mask. She traced her familiar path towards the stable, where, once again, she discovered the stable hand to be fast asleep.

  Within minutes, she had her horse saddled and whipped across the fields, towards the yonder cobblestone streets. At the crossroads near to William’s home, she found him waiting, atop his own horse, his black cape whipping in the wind. She knew her smile was concealed, but she felt her cheeks creeping up towards her ears anyway.

  They didn’t speak, riding quickly toward the Marquess’ estate. It was dark and shadowed, clearly empty in the wake of the Marquess’ arrest. Harriet wondered where the enormous number of staff would go and prayed that they would find appropriate lodging and positions elsewhere.

  Incredibly, the front door was unlocked, a fact that William shrugged off. “Nobody cares about the place now,” he said. “I’m surprised it hasn’t been ransacked.”

  “I’m sure it’s only a matter of time,” Harriet murmured. “But we shouldn’t take anything. Not now. Just what was taken. There will be enough to carry, regardless.”

  In the attic, the ropes that Sir Morris had used to tie Harriet remained spread across the floor. Harriet blinked at them twice, a wave of fear crashing over her. William gripped her elbow, whispering, “Are you all right?”

  “Of course. I’m just thinking.”

  Not allowing another moment to slip away, Harriet rushed towards the corner, tossing bag after bag towards the opening of the attic door. William arranged them and then began to drag them out, aligning them in the hallway. There were 12 bags in total. Harriet hadn’t a clue how much money each bag held.

  “We’ll have to take a few trips,” she murmured. “Find Oliver. And leave several bags in various locations around the neighbourhood. I’m sure they’ll know where they came from. I’m sure they’ll understand that this is what they’re owed.”

  Together, Harriet and William delivered the bags across the neighbourhood south of the Thames. They dropped them at doorways, rapped their fists on the wooden slabs that served as those doors, and then hustled away, not wanting to take any of the credit for what they’d done.

  Miraculously, just after three or four in the morning, Harriet spotted Oliver, ambling across the road. He looked a bit more depleted than he had previously, his bones cutting out of the fabric of his clothes.

  When Harriet saw him, she broke her ties with William and hustled towards him, calling his name. Oliver paused and peered at her curiously, looking as though she’d woken him in the midst of a dream. As she was still dressed in her mask and cape, he recognised her momentarily, and his lips broke into an enormous smile.

  “It’s you,” he whispered.

  Harriet lugged one of the bags of money forward and dropped it at his feet. Oliver blinked at it, his mouth ajar. “What is this?”

  “It’s the earnings that were stolen from you,” Harriet announced. “I’ve thought about it every day since I saw it.” She reached for Oliver’s tiny shoulders and gripped him, looking into his impossibly blue eyes. “I want you to know that no one is going to do this to you again. You can carry on, do your job the proper way, without worry.”

  Oliver thanked her, although his eyes became hazy, as though he couldn’t possibly believe her. And perhaps that was the intelligence of the boy, lurking just beyond his youthful appearance. For of course, Harriet couldn’t assure that everything would always work out for Oliver.

  Soon, his boyhood troubles would turn into his manhood troubles. He would have children, a wife, bills to pay. And surely, he would one day move on from his soil collector position to something equally
as tiring, equally as debilitating.

  Oliver gave her a final nod, as though he was agreeing with the swirling thoughts in her mind. Then, he tugged the bag of money away, altering his route to return home. Harriet hung back, tears springing to her eyes. Everything within her ached to follow him. But William leaped forward, drawing his fingers across her elbow. He held her back, shaking his head.

  “Darling, you have to let him go,” he murmured.

  Harriet let out a heavy sigh. “William, you don’t understand. I feel responsible for him. I should—I should take him home with me. Make sure he’s fed. I have endless nightmares about him. I …”

  “Harriet. Can I say something to you?”

  Harriet bowed her head yet kept her eyes upon William. The moon snuck out from its hiding place, draping a slice of light across his cheeks. She’d never seen anyone more handsome, anyone more sure of. After a long, staggering sigh, she whispered, “Please. Say anything you want to.”

  “Harriet, I know that this is your life’s mission. And I want you to know that I will stand by you—from the safety of our home—and help the homeless as much as I can. That means food drives. That means donations. That means safety, yet helping. I will defend the helpless as best as I can.”

  Harriet nodded. Tears streaked down her cheeks. William drew his hand across one of them, slipping his thumb across her lip.

  “But I need you to tell me something, Harriet,” William continued. “Will you spend the rest of your life with me? Will you be my wife?”

  The question should have been a surprise. Harriet should have laughed, cried with the chaos of it, marvelled at the strange manner in which this had come about. But instead, she gazed into his black eyes, completely lost in them, and heard herself say, “Yes. I cannot imagine my life any other way.”

  It was beautifully, wonderfully true. William drew closer to her and placed his warm lips across hers. Her eyes flickered closed. For a long moment, they held one another close, both of them feeling the strength of the other’s heartbeat through their clothes.

  This. This was the way to start a forever life.

  After they’d administered all the money, Harriet and William again returned to their horses. They rode companionably and quietly alongside one another. If William’s mind was similarly swirling, then she felt he was considering the days and months and years before them.

  How would they tell her mother and father the news of their engagement? How could they possibly put something so enormous into words?

  It was funny to Harriet, in these last moments before arriving back home, that nearly everyone she knew—everyone older, that was—had gone through something similar, at least on paper. They’d all fallen in love. They’d all admitted this love, despite incredibly, aching fear. And they’d all found a way to proceed towards marriage, without pause, as though this was the only conclusion they’d ever thought of.

  William rode with Harriet all the way back to her parents’ estate. They both gazed up at it, both fresh with the knowledge that one day, this would be just a place they visited sometimes—surely bringing their own children, experiencing birthday parties and feasts and balls as a married couple. Until then, this was just Harriet’s home. But already, it was feeling like something else.

  They said their final “I love you” to each other, which seemed the only appropriate words to say. As William strode back towards his home, Harriet beamed at the horizon, which offered its first flashes of pink and bright, lemon-light.

  Everything was going to be all right. Perhaps it wouldn’t be precisely as beautiful, or as easy, or as simple as Harriet wanted it. But that was part of life.

  Now, she slipped back into the stables and returned her horse to his stall, before slipping back into the mansion. She tore the mask from her face, returned the cape to the closet for a final time, and then burrowed beneath the sheets. Morning was only an hour or two off. Somehow, she’d be ready.

  THE END

  Can't get enough of Harriet and William? Then make sure to check out the Extended Epilogue to find out…

  In what delightful way will Harriet and William’s daughter demand justice?

  Will anyone ever find out about the couple’s secret past?

  How will William and Harriet manage to keep their love growing as the years go by?

  Click the link or enter it into your browser

  http://emilyhoneyfield.com/harriet

  (After reading the Extended Epilogue, turn the page to read the first chapters from “The Awakening of a Forbidden Passion”, my Amazon Best-Selling novel!)

  The Awakening of a Forbidden Passion

  Introduction

  Miss Priscilla Morton had everything planned out for her, including her upcoming wedding with her childhood friend, but it will all suddenly fall to pieces when a tragic and mysterious accident wipes out all her memories. When she wakes up, the handsome doctor who cares for her will awaken a fire within her very soul, but he will also inform her that she’s to marry another. Torn between passion and commitment, will she be able to make the right choice?

  What Doctor Rowley only ever wanted is to save those he cared for. But helping those in need always kept him away from romance. The only time he came close to love, it slipped right through his fingers before it even started. In a surprising turn of events, fate brought her back to him in the form of his patient, yet he cannot have her, as she is destined to be with another! His feelings for her may be forbidden but how will he be able to resist her fiery nature?

  They have discovered their electrifying connection under very peculiar circumstances, but before succumbing to their feelings, they have a mystery to solve. What caused the accident of Priscilla? Was it perhaps fate that brought them together for a reason, or is there something more sinister happening under everybody’s nose?

  Chapter 1

  (One month earlier: May Ball at Ruby House, home of Lord and Lady Tisdale.)

  Priscilla stood beside her sister, Bridgitte, surveying the ballroom. There were couples there already enjoying some of the more rousing country dances. “That looks like quite a merry time,” Bridgitte commented with a grin at the swirling couples.

  “I think it is high time that you stopped having so much amusement at the balls, and started paying attention to the gentleman you have been introduced to,” Priscilla said with a frown.

  Balls and all of their glitz had never been Priscilla’s element. It all seemed so frivolous. It probably did not help her disposition that Priscilla found herself quite lacking when it came to dancing.

  Bridgitte, on the other hand, was light and graceful on her feet. Whereas Priscilla preferred to play the piano, Bridgitte was often found dancing along to the music. This was just the kind of place that Bridgitte felt most at home.

  To Priscilla’s surprise, Bridgitte did not mock her words. Instead, Bridgitte nodded along with her. “Your words are wise tonight, Priss.” Priss was a grating childhood nickname that Bridgitte had endowed Priscilla with when they were both just wee girls.

  Priscilla pressed her mouth into a thin line. Her eyes watched Bridgitte suspiciously. “I have never known you to agree that something I said had merit without a grueling battle. You must have drunk too much punch, Bridgitte.”

  “Do not jest so,” Bridgitte whispered. She looked around and then back at Priscilla. “Someone might hear you and think you are being serious.”

  The corners of Priscilla’s lips quirked up. “Ah, worried that someone might found out you are a tenor when you are deep in your cups?”

  “I am not.” Bridgitte folded her arms, which really looked quite ridiculous with her dressed in her best formal gown.

  Priscilla waved off her sister’s petulant glare. “Never you mind about all that ribbing. I am quite serious about it being high time that we found ourselves two perfect matches.”