The Alter Ego_A Regency Romps Story Read online

  “I am sorry, Arthur, for I do not mean to be ungrateful. I am shocked at your cousin’s generosity – and yours, of course, since you are acting as agent for him – but I am used to business being conducted in a very different way.”

  “There is nothing to worry about with the property, I assure you,” he said, capturing her hand in his. “I can have the lease drawn up and presented to you as soon as the lawyer can write it out if it will assuage your fears.”

  Her shoulders slumped with relief. “Thank you, it would do so. You must think me a veritable ninnyhammer.”

  He smiled, his eyes not leaving hers. “Not in the least. I think you are a woman of fine sense, and a great deal more business acumen than me.”

  She blushed, not knowing how to respond, or how to reclaim her hand from his.

  Or if she even wanted to.

  “Anna…” he said and then hesitated.

  “Yes, Arthur?”

  He bit his lip, and then shifted his weight from one foot to another.

  “I… I would very much like to call on you at Sydney Place, once you are settled.”

  Her heart pounded. “I’m sure that Lily and I would be happy to see you whenever you wished.”

  He looked taken aback at that comment, before giving a little chuckle.

  “Yes, of course, and Governess for propriety, I must insist.”

  She laughed as well, wondering if she sounded vaguely hysterical. She had no idea what was happening, whether he was trying to set up a flirtation with her, or was merely being kind.

  “Very well then,” she stammered. “I must go – Lily has taken the hotel manager in severe dislike, and I must be sure she does not say anything terrible to him!”

  “Then I release you, my dear,” said Arthur, but he did not let go of her hand until he had placed a kiss firmly onto her knuckles.

  Anna blushed, sure that the whole world could hear her thunderous heartbeat, and wondering how one was supposed to react.

  He decided for her. He dropped into a deep, perfect bow, before turning around and sauntering back the way that he’d come.

  Chapter Ten

  “Why don’t you just tell her the truth?” said Jane, leaning back into the phaeton’s cushioned seat.

  Arthur was already regretting inviting her out for a drive with him. The day was glorious, and this being Bath, it was considered perfectly acceptable for them to tool about together in an open carriage without a groom or escort. It would afford him the chance of private conversation with the only person in Bath that might understand his predicament.

  But no. Jane was being difficult.

  “How do you propose I do that?” he snapped. “I can hardly walk up to her and inform her that I’ve been lying through my teeth since we first met, that I’m actually the son of a Duke, not a poor country gentleman, not to mention richer than Croesus and a celebrated Pink of the Ton? Have you seen my clothing?”

  “It’s a far better scenario that if you were a poor country gentleman masquerading as the son of a Duke,” said Jane in a reasonable voice. “I admit you’ll have to work at convincing her that you are fashionable, but that’s not of importance.”

  “Fashion is always of importance,” he said, aghast at her comment. “This whole charade would never have worked otherwise!”

  “This whole charade only worked because you are unknown in Bath, and had Aunt Seraphinia and her Grace, the Duchess of Devenish, covering for you.”

  “Well, if that’s not outside the enough!” said Arthur, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on his horses as they took a turn up towards Beecham Cliff. “I’ve often been able to fool people, I’ll have you know!”

  “That’s not something to be proud of,” she shot back. “Honestly, Arthur, it’s time to come clean about the whole thing. Tell her the truth!”

  “And what will that accomplish?” he asked, the turmoil that had kept him awake all night now spilling out of his mouth. “How will I know that she is interested in becoming better acquainted with me?”

  “Good grief, Arthur, is your brain addled? The Clyde’s have demonstrated from day one that they are interested in you!”

  “Yes, an interest in friendship, perhaps, but not more than that. Not for certain. If I tell Anna now how I feel, I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering if it was my fortune that swayed her.”

  Jane muttered something under her breath. She placed a light hand on his arm and stared directly at him. “Do you think so poorly of her?”

  “No, dash it all, of course I don’t think poorly of her in the least! But when one has been hunted as I have, and seen the change in the eyes of the matchmaking mamas the moment my new fortune came into play… well, it would hardly be surprising if it swayed a woman from liking me to lov-”

  He stopped before he completed the word, but Jane was no fool.

  “Loving you. Is that what you want, Arthur? For her to love you?”

  “I don’t know,” he practically shouted. Confiding in Jane was rapidly becoming the worst idea he’d ever had, and he vowed to turn about the carriage at the next available opportunity and return her to Aunt Seraphinia.

  “Do you love her?” asked Jane.

  “I don’t know that either,” he replied, with less anger. “I’ll be dashed if I can think of a single woman who could hold a candle to her, Jane – present company excepted, of course.”

  “Naturally,” she said with a faint smile.

  “She’s funny, and kind, and caring, and intelligent, and determined, and I rather think life will be a dead bore without her in it,” he said.

  “She’s beautiful as well,” said Jane.

  Arthur considered this for a moment. “She is, although not in the prevailing style. She’s handsome rather than pretty, but with a laugh that makes me want to pull a thousand pranks just so I can hear it again. I think her laugh is her best feature, although Lord knows she’s not had much to laugh about over the last few years.”

  “It sounds like you are smitten, dearest,” said Jane with the patience of a nurse talking to an infant.

  Arthur scratched at his cheek, just above the point where his cheap shirt points were beginning to droop with the heat of the day.

  “I don’t know, Jane. I wish I did. I always fancied the thought of being a lifelong bachelor, and now that Alex is back in the fold, who is to say I won’t have a little nephew soon to take my place as the heir? Why would I want a wife when I’m happy with my life – or at least I was before I won that cursed fortune.”

  “Yes, being filthy rich must be such a challenge,” said Jane with such an obvious roll of her eyes Arthur began to wonder what she was really angry about.

  “I say, my dear, I know that I sound like a brat when I say things like that, but I don’t know what I’ve done to draw your ire. Why are you at odds with me?”

  She didn’t answer him straight away, instead tapping her foot in a quick rhythm against the floor of the Phaeton. A lifetime living with three female relatives had taught Arthur not to force the issue, so instead, he concentrated on turning the carriage around as naturally as possible and heading back in the general direction of Bath.

  If Jane noticed that he cut their trip short, she didn’t mention it.

  “Is it true that you’ve set up Anna and Lily in your home?” she blurted out suddenly.

  “Good God, Jane! You make it sound like I’ve done something vulgar!” he said, affronted at her insinuation. “While it’s true that they have moved into the house in Sydney Place that I won, they are paying rent on it. Everything is above board, I promise you.”

  Jane groaned as she slumped back into the phaeton’s seat. “Lord, it is true then! Arthur, how could you be so stupid?”

  He gave a loud sniff. “I fail to see how renting a respectable house to a respectable widow and her daughter in a respectable part of Bath could be considered stupid.”

  Jane shook her head. “Because you’re a man, and you’ve never had to consider propriety before,
you goose. A pretty, rich widow and her equally pretty stepdaughter are living, without a male relative, in a house that you own, after you lied to the whole of the city about who you truly are. What do you think the tabbies will infer from this arrangement when your identity and ownership of the house become public knowledge?”

  Arthur’s heart began to hammer. He opened and closed his mouth several times as the truth of her words began to sink in.

  “Good Lord,” he said faintly. “It looks like I’ve set her up as my… as my…”

  “Light o’ Love? Cytherian? Wife in watercolour?”

  He grimaced as the cant tripped easily off her tongue, making the whole thing feel excessively vulgar.

  “I need to have a word with Aunt Seraphinia about your education,” he muttered.

  Jane gave a snort of derision. “Who do you think taught me those phrases? But come now Arthur; surely you see the problem here? It was sweet when you offered the house to me, and I thought you understood the impropriety. There is no difference with the Clydes.”

  He shook his head, but it was without conviction. “I swear it was only to lend her some aid as she struggled to find somewhere to live until they move to London for the Season. I had no thoughts at all of making her an improper offer. I made sure to agree upon a lease, and she is paying the servants from her own pocket. Besides, Lily is with her!”

  Jane gave a deep sigh. “I know, Arthur. It doesn’t change how foolish it was for you to do this. If word gets out, people will believe the worst, and you know it.”

  “I can hardly tell her that my mind is changed and she must leave, after all,” he replied.

  Jane shook her head and then shrugged. “The only course of action I can see is for you to come clean about everything with her, and hope for the best. You’ll need to remove yourself from Bath so that everyone of consequence forgets Mr Arthur, and then if you ever do wish to return, you can do so with a full head of hair and fashionable attire. No one will connect Lord Arthur with this farce then.”

  “And yet how will I know if she is interested in me, Jane? Not my title or fortune?”

  “How do you know she is interested in you at all?” she shot back. “I hear that her Grace has taken to both Lily and Anna, which will naturally be putting them into the way of the Duke. No fortune of yours would compete with both wealth and the title of Duchess.”

  “Anna would never be so mercenary!” he sputtered, completely appalled at the idea of Devenish so much as standing beside her. “Lord, no!”

  Jane, however, just grinned. “There’s your answer, then, isn’t it?”

  There did not seem to be an adequate response to this. The rest of the drive was quiet, with both of them making meaningless observations on the scenery as the carriage bounced along towards the city.

  They were only a few streets away from Aunt Seraphinia’s when Jane placed her hand on Arthur’s arm and asked him to pull up at the side of the road. One glance at the figures on the pavement, and he understood the nature of her request.

  “Lord Arthur,” said Trix Manning – no, Trix Drake now. “Ah, my apologies, it is Mr Arthur, is it not? Your resemblance to your cousin is quite astonishing.”

  “You know very well that I’m Lord Arthur,” he said with a rueful grin. “Trix my darling girl, will you ever forgive me? Had I known you would be in town I would have told you everything.”

  She scrunched up her nose, as though weighing whether she should believe him.

  “Is he truthful, do you think?” she asked her husband, whose arm was interlocked with hers.

  “No idea, darling, I’m not the one who knows him from London,” replied Felix Drake, “but he doesn’t strike me as being a bad sort.”

  Arthur silently resolved to buy Mr Drake’s entire publishing catalogue as a thank you for his masculine solidarity.

  “Please forgive our treatment of you, Mrs Drake,” said Jane, leaning forward in the carriage. “We treated you shabbily, and for that, I can only be sorry.”

  Trix looked up at Jane, her frank expression enough to give Arthur hope that she hadn’t given up on him entirely.

  “Was this whole sham Lord Arthur’s idea?” she asked.

  Jane bit her lip. “Well, most of it was, although I must confess that I helped with the details.”

  Trix seemed to measure this for a moment before nodding. “I can believe that, for it’s not the level of a prank he could plan on his own.”

  “I object to that!” said Arthur, about to launch into a list of the excellent tricks he had played over the years, but Jane’s warning hand on his shoulder convinced him to remain quiet.

  “Do you forgive us, then?” asked Jane. There was an edge to her voice that suggested she very much wanted to build a friendship with Trix, and Arthur was forcefully reminded that her lot in life must be a relatively lonely one.

  Trix, true to her sweet nature, just smiled up at Jane. “Naturally. After all, I had to forgive the Duchess as she is a friend and mentor to me, while my husband informs me that I have no choice but to forgive Lady Seraphinia.”

  Mr Drake gave them a lazy smile. “I informed my wife that I’d like my business to keep running, so could not incur the wrath of the Dowager Viscountess. Besides, this will make wonderful inspiration for Trix’s next novel. I think we should call it The Bath Establishment.”

  Trix snorted. “It is too fantastical to believe! A veritable Pink of the Ton who just so happens to be the heir of a Duke runs away and assumes the identity of a country nobody, all because he won a lot of money and everyone wanted to marry him.”

  “But think how you can pillorize Lord Arthur,” said Jane, which put a disturbingly thoughtful look on Trix Drake’s face.

  Suddenly she shook her head. “No, it will never fly. I highly doubt Cordy is going to believe a word of this, especially after my last letter detailing our awful meeting. She’ll think I’m bamming her, and I do not blame her in the least!”

  “You wrote to Cordelia?” said Arthur, but no one paid him any heed.

  Trix reached up to the carriage, and lightly shook Jane’s hand.

  “It was very nice to meet you, Miss Lindon, and I am more than willing to forget our last meeting if only you tell me how Lord Arthur talked you into this ridiculous escapade.”

  “I promise,” said Jane with a warm smile.

  “An actual letter to Cordelia? Telling her that I’m in Bath?” said Arthur. Mr Drake cast him a sympathetic smile, but the women acted as though he were nothing but a ghost.

  “Now we must be going, for her Grace, the Duchess of Devenish, is expecting us any minute,” said Trix, stepping back from the Phaeton and tucking her arm into her husband’s. “Miss Lindon, let us meet and talk soon in the Pump Room. It would be nice to know someone of my own age in Bath!”

  “I would like that very much,” said Jane, but the Drakes were already walking away, heading in the opposite direction from which Arthur’s Phaeton was pointed.

  “I say, Trix? Did you just say you wrote to Lady Cordelia about our meeting? Is she still staying at Darlington Park with my family? Trix? Mrs Drake! Oh, damn and blast.”

  Jane, who had been watching the Drakes saunter away without so much as a glance over their shoulders, turned to look at Arthur in shock.

  “Arthur, please watch your language!”

  “That’s rich coming from a girl who knows what a wife in watercolour is,” he shot back, before setting his horses to. “You don’t know Lady Cordelia, but ten to the dozen if she knows I’m here she’ll tell her mother about it. Worse, she’ll tell my mother about it, aye, and my sister-in-law besides! The last thing I need is Kate charging down here in a rage because I didn’t tell them I was leaving the house party.”

  Jane patted his shoulder. “I am sure that your family will never believe that you would willingly cut your hair or appear shabby gentile in public.”

  “That’s true,” he said, somewhat mollified as they pulled up outside of Lady Seraphinia’s home
.

  The footman came out of the house, hand at the ready to help Jane down to the pavement. She glanced up at Arthur and cast him a dazzling smile.

  “Besides, I’d be far more concerned with the letter Aunt Seraphinia wrote,” she told him. “Tell the Clyde’s the truth, Arthur! I beg you!”

  “What letter?” sputtered Arthur, half-convinced that this entire morning had been a nightmare that he was yet to wake up from.

  Jane didn’t reply. Instead she gave him a cheery wave before disappearing inside the house.

  *

  “Could this house be any more wonderful?” sighed Lily for the third time. “I confess I did not realise how much I missed the country and being able to see green fields from our windows is so refreshing.”

  Anna looked up from her needlework and smiled. “Yes, it is lovely.”

  She did not give voice to her true feelings.

  Lily began to babble on about how perfect Sydney Place was, how delightfully kind the servants had been, and how much everyone loved Governess, unlike at that horrid hotel. Anna leant her half an ear, agreeing at the right moments and nodding where necessary.

  In truth, her own thoughts were far more disordered.

  They had moved in the day before and collected Governess at their earliest convenience. Lady Seraphinia had been cool in her attitude and tepid in her enthusiasm about their new home. It was entirely possible that Governess had done something outrageous, like shred some expensive stockings or maul the footman’s ankle, but Anna suspected it was to do with their move to Sydney Place.

  She was struggling with it herself. Now the urgency of removing from the White Hart had passed, she was keenly aware that no lease agreement had been signed, nor any indication of when and who she should pay rent to established. She’d never before had to take care of such details, and something about the whole situation felt wrong.

  And then there was Arthur’s continued flirtation.

  She’d be lying if she claimed to be indifferent to him. If anything, she found herself looking forward to their meetings, and had even, secretly, wished he had thrown caution to the wind and kissed her, right there in front of everyone at the White Hart. It was mortifying, and exciting, and confusing all at once. These were not feelings she’d had before, not even for Matthew, who she really had been excessively fond of, even loved in a quiet kind of way.