The Alter Ego_A Regency Romps Story Read online

  The vague look of dismay on Arthur’s face would have made Anna laugh under any other circumstances, but instead, a very different feeling reared up.

  “What a capital suggestion, for the more, the merrier,” she said loudly. Lily cast her a confused look but then smiled as she realised she had an ally.

  “Please say we can, Mr Arthur!”

  He glanced at Lily, then at Anna. Suddenly his face broke into a wide grin. “I see no reason why not. As you say, the more, the merrier! I do not know many people in Bath, either, so it will be a good way for me to make friends – but I will rely on you, Lily Clyde, to arrange for these friends of yours and Mrs Rowlands to meet us!”

  “I’m sure you can pull something together quickly enough,” said Lady Seraphinia with a dismissive wave. “Now, more importantly – should I extend a late invitation to the Rothmans? It seems they have just arrived in town, and it would be rude to neglect them, but I have already had acceptances from the Devenishes so it would not do to have them in the same room, now would it?”

  As it quickly became apparent that they were not expected to contribute to Lady Seraphinia’s musings so much as to agree with whatever she decided, Anna had the leisure to once again look about the room and nod a greeting to the various people she was now acquainted with. The heat, however, was oppressive and getting worse with every new arrival. She fanned herself quite vigorously, hoping she would not do something as mortifying as faint in front of everyone.

  “So it is agreed then,” said Lady Seraphinia, although Anna had not the slightest idea what the resolution decided upon had been. “Excellent. Ah, I think I see that silly granddaughter of mine and her family. Charlotte! Come here at once and bring me that child to coo over!”

  “I think that means we are allowed to make our own conversation now,” joked Arthur quietly, and Anna smiled in response.

  “She is rather overbearing,” she said. “An absolute dear, of course, but I never thought I would meet someone who I held in more awe than my mother, and yet here we are!”

  Mr Arthur chuckled. “I find myself wishing to meet your family, Anna, from the little tidbits you drop.”

  “I feel that I would like to meet your mother as well, if only to learn why she called you Arthur Arthur.”

  He blinked in confusion, and then his cheeks started to go red as he coughed into his hand. “Yes! That! Well, no doubt she had her reasons. Ah, please excuse me, my dear, for I must speak to Captain Rowlands about these friends that Lily wishes to invite along on our walk.”

  He practically leapt out of the chair, and Anna felt a sick dread take hold in her stomach. Had she committed some deep social solecism? Did he think she had been offensive toward his mother?

  Before she had the opportunity to work herself into a fluster, however, Miss Lindon took the seat beside her.

  “Lily said you have been reading The London House; are you enjoying it?”

  Anna forced herself to push all thoughts of Arthur aside, even though it still felt like her heart was pounding in her brain.

  “Yes, we are reading it together for neither of us has enough patience to wait for the other to finish,” she said.

  Miss Lindon nodded. “Yes, it was like that with Aunt Seraphinia, although she likes me to read aloud to her anyway, so it worked out well for us both. Arthur tells me that many of the people in The London House are caricatures of real members of the Ton, but unfortunately, I don’t know any of them in person, and there are none of note in Bath. It is enough to make me want to go to the City just to see if I can identify who some of them are.”

  “I had not realised that was the case,” said Anna, wondering who the awful villain’s daughter had been based on. “How did your cousin know, though, for I thought he was not acquainted with London Society?”

  Jane stuttered something unintelligible, her eyes wide.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that over the noise of the crowd,” said Anna, as a particularly raucous group promenaded past them.

  “I mean, the publisher told him. Mr Drake – Lord Phillip’s son. He lives in town, you know, and owns the most delightful bookshop besides. His wife wrote the novel.”

  “I think Lady Philip mentioned something about it,” said Anna, feeling a smile spread over her face. “Will she be at Lady Seraphinia’s party?”

  “You are in luck, for Lady Phillip told us that they are due to return to Bath this evening and will definitely be in attendance.”

  “I am looking forward to the party more than ever,” declared Anna in perfect truth. Despite their struggles finding a suitable house, Bath was already beginning to feel like home. While the questions about her birth had led to snubs back in her hometown, her status as a widow and the friendship of Lady Seraphinia were opening more doors than she had ever dreamed possible.

  She glanced over at Lily, who was chattering away with Mrs Rowlands as they indulged in what was doubtless a very silly conversation. Yes, Anna was confident that they would be happy here, and was even starting to consider making Bath their permanent home.

  If only she could get rid of this headache, everything would be perfect.

  “Is the Pump Room always this stuffy?” she asked Jane after a while. Her fan was doing little to dispel the heat, and everyone seemed to be talking very loud indeed.

  “I’m afraid this could even be considered quiet,” said Jane with a note of apology in her voice.

  Anna grimaced. “I should not complain, for I have always wanted to live somewhere busy. Besides, it is good practice for London.”

  “Well if you intend to stay in Bath until the new year, then you will get a feel for what it is like with more company. I do hope you are not put off by all the people.”

  “Not at all,” replied Anna, “rather, I am just not used to doing so much all of the time. We lived so quietly even before my husband’s death, so it is something of a shock to be surrounded by so much hustle and bustle.”

  “Lord help you when you reach the Capital,” laughed Jane. “Arthur will be the best person to consult as to the differences. Ah, he is walking toward us now – what perfect timing!”

  Anna was about to ask why on earth Arthur, who by his own accounts had hardly ever set foot in London, would be the best person to ask, when he and General Mortimer strolled up to them. She swallowed the question as curtseys and bows were performed.

  “Arthur, is the Pump room as busy as parts of London in the Season?” asked Jane without preamble.

  Arthur looked taken aback for a second but answered with easy manners that Anna was beginning to associate with him. “It depends on the function, I suppose. Some events can be half empty and duller than dishwater, but the most sought-after events can be dreadful squeezes.”

  Anna frowned but did not want to question him in front of the General, in case she said something further to offend him.

  “Ha! You should try attending one of Lady Philip Drake’s balls if the poor thing recovers her health soon,” said the General. “Her entertaining is both rare and impeccable, so naturally every member of Bath society turns up until there is no room to move or breathe.”

  “It sounds dreadful,” said Anna. “Why would you attend a ball if it were such a crush?”

  “Because not attending might lead people to think that you were not invited in the first place, and that would be far more intolerable,” laughed Miss Lindon. “Even as we complain that it is hot and noisy and there’s no room to do anything, we are delighted to be there alongside everyone else with fashionable taste.”

  “That seems very strange,” said Anna with a shake of her head, “but I will bow to your superior judgement in the matter. Does that mean I should expect Lady Seraphinia’s party to be full to the rafters with the Great and Good of Bath society?”

  “Not at all, for Aunt Seraphinia refuses to play by the same rules as everyone else,” said Miss Lindon with both pride and amusement. “She only invites people she can tolerate, of which there is no great n
umber. Hence her gatherings are small and very much sought after.”

  Anna rubbed at her temples as she felt her headache getting worse. “It is all so very confusing!”

  Everyone laughed, but she found herself unable to participate. A hand touched her shoulder gently, and she looked up to see Arthur standing over her.

  “Come, let us take a quick turnabout on the street outside,” he said in a kindly voice.

  “But I don’t have a chaperone with me,” she said, which only caused him to look at her with a quizzical expression. He glanced at Miss Lindon, who just shrugged in response.

  “My dear Mrs Clyde this is Bath. It is perfectly acceptable for us to walk about between the Abbey and the Pump rooms in full view of all our neighbours.”

  She felt her heat run up to her cheeks and cast her eyes down, but she took his proffered hand and stood. He gave her an encouraging smile, and with a quick nod to the General, who took Anna’s seat beside Miss Lindon, began to lead her through the crowds of the Pump Room.

  “You must think I sound like a country bumpkin,” she said, as they finally stepped out into the cooler air of the street.

  “Nothing of the sort. I’m only a bumpkin myself, after all,” he replied with a self-depreciating smile.

  Anna shook her head. “I do not know what part of the country you are from, Arthur, but I am not in the least convinced that you are as uncultured as you and your relatives claim you are.”

  Arthur tripped over a stone but recovered quickly. “What on earth would make you say that?”

  “You know about London parties,” she replied, “and what is considered acceptable behaviour. It is so different from what I thought was acceptable, I am beginning to think that my late husband was terribly out of date.”

  “It’s not special knowledge,” he said, sounding a bit flustered. “Why, I am related – distantly, of course! – to a Duke, so my family always expected that I know basic manners and courtesy. Did your parents not teach you such things?”

  Anna’s felt her cheeks flame, and she was deeply grateful for the poke bonnet that shielded her reaction from him.

  “My parents were a little… unconventional,” she eventually settled on as a response. “My mother was never comfortable with her daughters holding hands with men who were not our relations, and so we did not attend social functions where dancing would be a main part of the entertainment. Naturally, that meant we rarely attended local events.”

  “You seem comfortable enough taking my arm,” he said.

  “You are different,” she replied. When Mr Arthur did not respond, she realised that he was awaiting an explanation from her. “I mean that you remind me very much of Matthew, or his brother, Sir Desmond. They helped me learn what was expected of me until I became quite comfortable taking the arm of a gentleman for a walk, or for a dance. I have not known you long, but you feel very much like family in the same way.”

  “Thank you,” he replied, but when he glanced away, she worried that she might have offended him.

  “I mean it as the finest of compliments,” she said in as reassuring a tone as she could manage.

  “I received it in just that fashion,” he said, although his smile wasn’t as broad as usual. “And your father? Was he as strict as your Mother, chasing away every suitor who came for the hand of you or your sisters?”

  Anna crinkled up her nose, trying to think how to explain her unconventional parent. “My father is best described as an eccentric, and sets no store at all on ceremony. He drives my mother to distraction by inviting people home to lunch with no warning, treating the Squire with the same irreverence as he does the stable boy, and bringing his dogs into the parlour regardless of whether there are guests there or not. He always told us that we should be true to our wild selves, for he had been so, and his life was blessed as a result.”

  “It sounds like you were simultaneously sheltered and allowed to run loose,” he joked.

  Anna did not laugh. “That is probably the most accurate description of my childhood I have ever heard.”

  “I would love to hear about it at some time,” he replied with a tenderness that forced her to look up into his eyes.

  “Would you really?” she asked. Even Matthew, who had been kind despite his illness, had never held any interest in her life before their marriage, and Lily was too young to care about anything but the present.

  “Why would I not?” he said. “I find you an intriguing woman, Anna, and I am so very glad to have run into you and your lovely stepdaughter on my way to Bath.”

  His comment now made sense, and she looked back down at her feet. “Yes, so very lucky! I swear Lily has praised the Lord several times a day for our chance meeting. She likes you very much.”

  There was a brief moment of silence before he responded.

  “And I like her as well,” Arthur replied. “She reminds me greatly of my little sister – and I very much look forward to the day they meet.”

  “Will she be coming to Bath?”

  “I very much doubt it, for her heart lies in a muddy field with the son of a country squire. You have reminded me, however, that you intend to find lodgings in Bath itself. How goes the search?”

  For some reason she was grateful to move away from discussing their relatives, so Anna launched into a long, and probably very tedious, account of their house hunt so far. Every property they had viewed had been dismissed, and the only one they had liked was only available until September – far before she planned to remove to London.

  “If you do happen to know of property available for the next year or so, and preferably with a staff already hired and in place, I would be forever grateful to you,” she said, laughing even as she shook her head at the impossibility of it all.

  Arthur, however, was regarding her with a thoughtful expression.

  “Do you know that I may have a solution for you? A relative of mine recently came into property here in Bath. In fact, I’d originally intended to let it from him for a few months, but a whole townhouse is too much for my needs, and I am happy at the Pelican. He has no intention of living there, so would doubtless be happy to have a reliable tenant, and there is a skeleton staff in place besides. It’s a nice place with a good address, and I suspect it would fulfil your needs perfectly. Would you like to see it?”

  Anna gripped his arm tightly as she fought the urge to bounce in her slippers. “My dearest, dearest Arthur, if you could arrange this for us I will be forever in your debt. More than that, you’d be quite the hero to both Lily and me!”

  His smile was odd, and he ran a gloved finger down her cheek. “I think I would like that very much.”

  They stood facing each other before the Abbey, his eyes holding hers with such an intense gaze that she could not tear away. Her hands had somehow become captured by his, but for one terrible, beautiful moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Her breath caught.

  Arthur turned away. He tucked her arm through his and began to walk.

  She wanted to say something, ask him what had just happened, but as he chose that moment to lead her back to the Pump Room and loudly describing the relative merits of the property owned by his friend, she thought perhaps she had read too much into the moment and chose to force it from her mind.

  Chapter Eight

  What on earth had possessed him to stroke her cheek, of all the damned impertinent behaviour?

  The question had been occupying his mind for the last day and a half, so much so that he had barely slept the night before.

  Good grief, he had almost kissed her, right there on the street, like a wretched cur set on ruining her reputation!

  Arthur couldn’t decide what had possessed him. Certainly, there had been no wine involved, nor had there been a romantic atmosphere present on the pavement outside of the Abbey. It was ridiculous, and the look in the poor woman’s eyes had conveyed in a perfectly clear manner that he had crossed a line.

  “Idiot,” he muttered. His valet looked ala
rmed but said nothing. Instead, West dedicated himself to coaxing the remains of Arthur’s hair into something vaguely fashionable. A futile act, of course, but at least he tried his best.

  “That will do,” he said with a dismissive wave. “Don’t wait up for me, I can see to myself when I return to my rooms.”

  “Very good, Sir,” was all the man said, no doubt glad to be away from Arthur and his morose air.

  Arthur picked up his hat and gloves, then gave a world-weary sigh. They were newly purchased and both of excellent quality, but neither could make up for his otherwise appalling attire. The jacket fitted as poorly as all his others, and his linen shirt points were already threatening to droop. He’d made an effort with his cheap neckcloth (which was an unfortunate shade of purple rather than a crisp white), but without spending another hour to ensure the folds were immaculate, he could do no more than making it passable. His knee breeches he didn’t even want to think about and could only hope that as most of the evening would be spent sitting down, few people would have the opportunity to note how baggy they were, or the fact he was wearing maroon stockings.

  He really should have checked them earlier, but despite having mocked his brother’s taste even as he stole half his old wardrobe, Arthur had naturally assumed that Alex would at least have the staples necessary for a gentleman of consequence. He was starting to miss Rogers terribly, and although it had seemed amusing at first to fool everyone into thinking he was a bumpkin, it was beginning to lose its appeal. Surely he could have convinced everyone he was not Lord Arthur without resorting to such drastic measures?

  He gave an even heavier sigh. Had it even been worthwhile telling everyone he wasn’t Lord Arthur? Accurate enough that it had been a nice break from being hunted, and it was gratifying to think that a few people seemed interested and happy to make his acquaintance without expecting some sort of favour in return.