A Trick of Mirrors E-Book

Meredith Bond

• Herausgeber: Anessa Books
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Can the Ladies of the Wagering Whist Society help sort out a love quadrangle?
It’s not that the practical Beatrice Kendrick doesn’t trust her mirror twin, the vivacious and flirtatious Isabel. It’s just that the rebellious Bel has proven herself all too capable of welcoming the attentions of the wrong sort of man. So to keep Bel from getting into trouble, Bee secretly accompanies her when she makes her debut in Regency London. Can Bee shield her own heart while trying to protect her sister? And can Bel ensure that her quiet sister gets a taste of the joys of London society – and a chance at romance?
When the broodingly romantic Edward Conway, nursing a broken heart, meets musically inclined Bel Kendrick, she stirs a passion in him he wasn’t sure he could ever feel again after the death of his Italian lover. The strappingly handsome Paul St. Vincent, too, meets the thoughtful and clever woman he thinks is Bel, and she seems to be just the sort of intellectually-minded woman he’s looking for. Only sometimes Edward senses that Bel doesn’t always remember what they’d discussed the last time they met. And at times she is entirely too giggly for Paul’s taste.
Both men, however, have decided that Miss Kendrick is the right woman for him. What they don’t realize is that they’re both right. But it will take a little sleight of hand by the ladies of the Wagering Whist Society to untangle this trick of mirrors.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Book Description

A Trick of Mirrors

Copyright

Dramatis Personae

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society

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Books By Meredith Bond

Can the Ladies of the Wagering Whist Society help sort out a love quadrangle?

It’s not that the practical Beatrice Kendrick doesn’t trust her mirror twin, the vivacious and flirtatious Isabel. It’s just that the rebellious Bel has proven herself all too capable of welcoming the attentions of the wrong sort of man. So to keep Bel from getting into trouble, Bee secretly accompanies her when she makes her debut in Regency London. Can Bee shield her own heart while trying to protect her sister? And can Bel ensure that her quiet sister gets a taste of the joys of London society – and a chance at romance?

When the broodingly romantic Edward Conway, nursing a broken heart, meets musically inclined Bel Kendrick, she stirs a passion in him he wasn’t sure he could ever feel again after the death of his Italian lover. The strappingly handsome Paul St. Vincent, too, meets the thoughtful and clever woman he thinks is Bel, and she seems to be just the sort of intellectually-minded woman he’s looking for. Only sometimes Edward senses that Bel doesn’t always remember what they’d discussed the last time they met. And at times she is entirely too giggly for Paul’s taste.

Both men, however, have decided that Miss Kendrick is the right woman for him. What they don’t realize is that they’re both right. But it will take a little sleight of hand by the ladies of the Wagering Whist Society to untangle this trick of mirrors.

 

A Trick of Mirrors

The Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society

Book Four

Meredith Bond

Copyright, 2020, Meredith Bond.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means—graphic, electronic or mechanical—without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

Cover Art by QuarterbackTB

Logo by Anjali Banerji

Edited by The Editing Hall

Published by Anessa Books

Dramatis Personae

Christianne Ayres (previously Lady Norman): Founding member of the Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society

Lydia Welles née Sheffield: member of the Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society

Diana Crowther, Lady Colburne née Hemshawe: member of the Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society

Claire Tyne, Lady Blakemore: member of the Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society

Alys Russell, Duchess of Kendell: member of the Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society

Mrs. Penelope Aldridge: member of the Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society

Cynthia Montley, Lady Sorrell: member of the Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society

Ellen Aston, Lady Moreton: member of the Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society

Joshua Powell, Lord Wickford: owner Powell’s Club for Gentlemen

Tina Bronley, Duchess of Warwick née Rowan: Christianne’s natural daughter

Robert Bronley, Duke of Warwick: Tina’s husband

Lady Margaret Bronley: Warwick’s sister

Liam Ayres, Lord Ayres: Christianne’s husband and Tina’s father

John Welles, Lord Welles: Lydia’s husband

Andrew Crowther, Lord Colburne: Diana’s husband

Beatrice & Isabelle Kendrick: Claire’s nieces

Edward Pike, Lord Conway: Bel’s romantic interest

Paul Adler, Lord St. Vincent: Bee’s romantic interest

Elizabeth Adler, Lady St. Vincent: Paul’s young step-mother

Chapter One

~March 22, 1807~

Beatrice Kendrick crouched on the floor of the carriage as it moved through the streets of London. It wasn’t easy to keep her balance in the moving vehicle and pull on the maid’s cloak at the same time, but somehow, she managed. She pulled up the hood covering her telltale red hair and ducked her head down so no one could see her face, identical to her sister’s, who was sitting and staring out the window. They moved ever closer to their aunt’s Mayfair home where they would be staying for the Season.

Bee carefully sat back on the seat next to her maid, Annie, making sure to keep her head down, so her hood wouldn’t be dislodged. They couldn’t risk anyone even getting a glimpse of her.

As planned, Bee arranged herself so she couldn’t be seen when the door to the carriage opened outside of Lord and Lady Blakemore’s home. Her sister Bel and Annie got down, making a huge fuss over the beauty of the house and the number of footmen pouring out of the house to take in all of Bel’s luggage.

The door to the coach opened again, causing Bee to hold her breath and scrunch down even farther into the tiniest ball against the side.

“Ach, ye don’t need to check inside the carriage,” Bee heard the coachman scold someone. “Miss Kendrick only had a luncheon basket in there with her, and I’ll bring it round to the kitchen meself.”

The door closed again, and Bee allowed herself to breathe. If she were caught now, their entire plan would be jeopardized. Months of arguing back and forth between her and Bel, weeks of Bee trying to convince her sister that she did, in fact, need to be there with her in London and that, no, simply relaying information by mail about the men she met would not be enough. Days of swearing to her sister that she truly had no desire to subvert Bel’s debut into society for her own ends. She was going to happily enter society on her own the following year just as their parents had planned, but there was absolutely no way that Bee was going to allow her sister, with her cavalier attitude toward rules and proper behavior when she got an idea in her head, to come to London on her own.

Bee loved her twin sister, but they could not risk Bel getting into scrapes the way she did when they went out to parties and assemblies at home. She had to find a husband this season, so Bee could be presented next year. Their parents had been very clear that they could only afford to present one girl at a time. But no amount of love could change the fact that Bel was, well, flighty and not always the best judge of character.

It had taken months for Bee to show her sister this truth and weeks for her to agree that maybe it would be best if Bee were there to actually meet the men she might consider marrying. And now the time was at hand for them to put this plan into action, and it was vital that no one knew both twins were there. Bee could not risk getting caught. God only knew if they would get this opportunity again, were she to be found now.

The carriage jolted forward as John Coachman started toward the back of the house. Bee almost toppled off the seat but caught herself just in time. They had planned for him to park the carriage at the back of the house and leave it there for a few minutes. John would then make a scene bringing the luncheon basket into the kitchen so Bee could sneak inside behind him. Annie would be on the lookout for her upstairs so she could guide Bee to Bel’s room.

This was going to be the trickiest part of their plan. Bee took in a deep breath and tried to calm her pounding heart.

The carriage stopped again, and Bee could hear John talking to the horses. He was so funny. He always talked to them as if they could understand every word he said. When they were little, Bee and Bel truly believed the animals could understand him because they always did exactly what John told them to do.

The door opened once again, and John popped his head into the carriage. “All clear,” he said, giving Bee a broad, toothy smile. He grabbed the basket and helped her down.

“You’re wonderful, have I told you that recently?” Bee asked, returning his smile.

“Ye told me when I agreed to this havey-cavey plan o’yers,” he told her. “Ready?”

She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes. Let’s go.”

She followed in his shadow through the garden gate and to the back door of the house where, they presumed, the kitchen was. It was a question as to whether the door opened directly into the kitchen, in which case John would drop the basket, causing a ruckus . If it opened into a hallway, Bee could easily find the servants’ stair and sneak up.

He opened the door and then paused to peer inside. He gave a shake of his head, letting Bee know that he was about to make a mess, and she had to move fast and find the back stairs.

John took two steps into the kitchen and then deliberately tripped over a chair, sending the picnic basket and all its contents flying across the large room. Two maids screeched as they were hit by flying debris, the cook started screaming, and a footman shouted as he was covered with the messiest food the girls could find to leave in the basket just for this. Bee resisted the urge to watch John’s excellent acting skills—a privilege she’d been witness to before—and moved quickly for a door that lay open just enough to see that it led to the stairs. She slipped through on silent slippered feet, ignoring the curses and shouts behind her, and ran up to the first floor where she imagined Bel’s room would be.

A voice higher up the stair called out quietly for her, and she continued up to the second floor where Annie was waiting.

“The room is here, quickly now,” the maid said, gently pushing her down the hall and toward an open door. “Luckily, there’s a separate dressing room. You’ll be able hide in there whenever anyone comes into the room.”

Bee gave a nod, not daring to speak aloud until she was safely ensconced in the room. Once inside the dressing room with the door closed behind them, she finally took in a deep breath and threw off Annie’s stifling cloak.

“Ha…” She sighed. “We made it!” She took in a few more breaths just for good measure. She didn’t think she’d actually breathed for a good five minutes, and her heart was still pounding.

Annie giggled and shook her head. “You made it.”

“Yes. Now we only have three more months of hiding to manage, but I’m in.”

Annie dropped her head into her hands.

Bee rubbed the dear woman’s back. “It’ll be all right, Annie. We’ll get into a routine, and it will all be fine. Don’t you worry.”

Annie looked up, her forehead creased with worry. “I don’t know how, but if you say so, Miss Bee.”

“Come, I’ll help you unpack while we wait for Bel.”

~*~

They’d arrived! Finally, after days cooped up in that nasty old travelling carriage with no one except Bee and Annie, Bel felt like she could breathe again.

She hopped down from the carriage and paused to take in a deep breath of London air. It was nothing like the air at home. At home everything smelled of hay, soil, and animals. Here in the city, it was all humanity. Of course, there was still the smell of the horses, but more than anything, Bel felt as if she could smell the sheer number of people all around her. The street where her aunt lived was quiet, but still, the city around her hummed with energy. She could feel it, and it sent a thrill of excitement up her spine.

She was in London for her season! She could barely wait to get started.

The door to the well-appointed house in front of her opened, and two footmen in livery spilled out, immediately moving toward the carriage to take Bel’s trunks into the house. An older woman wearing a plain black gown with a white cap followed, pausing to curtsy to Bel before approaching her.

“Miss Kendrick, welcome to Blackholm House. I’m Mrs. Sully, the housekeeper. Please, if you would follow me.”

Oh, yes, she was most definitely going to like living here, Bel thought with another frisson of excitement. At home, they barely got by with a very limited staff—a cook and housekeeper, a daily, and one footman—but here there were so many people to see to everything.

She took in a very satisfied breath and followed Mrs. Sully past the white marble pillars on either side of the black door, adorned with an impressive brass knocker in the shape of a lion’s head, and into the house.

She paused to take in the luxury. The black and white tile floor. A ceiling that soared above painted sky blue. It was complete with clouds, a golden sun on one side, and cherubs adorning the corners. The housekeeper had stopped two steps up an impressive curving staircase with a black iron-work balustrade, waiting for her.

Bel suddenly remembered her sister and knew she had one thing to do, just one.

It had been drilled into her from the time they’d entered the city. She’d tried to look out the window to see where she was going to be living for the next few months, but Bee had been so insistent and annoying. Bel had finally given in and turned to acknowledge her sister. She’d assured Bee that she would, in fact, remember her instructions—and then in the excitement and splendor she’d almost forgotten!

“I’d like to be taken directly to my aunt, if you please,” Bel said in her most commanding voice. In truth, she wasn’t used to speaking to unfamiliar servants, and this woman intimidated her just a little.

“Yes, Miss, of course. As soon as you’ve freshened up from your journey—”

“No, thank you, we stopped at an inn just outside of London less than an hour ago,” Bel said, interrupting the housekeeper. “I’d like to see Lady Blakemore now if she is available.”

“Oh. Very well, Miss. If you would follow me, then, Lady Blakemore is in her private parlor.” Mrs. Sully continued up the stairs.

Bel followed.

The housekeeper opened the second door from the stair and Bel followed her into a bright room with cream silk-covered walls. “Miss Kendrick, my lady,” the housekeeper announced.

Lady Blakemore was sitting on a lovely flowered sofa with an embroidery frame in her hand and a sewing bag at her feet. She looked so very much like Bel’s mother, she had to stop and take a second look. Her face was a touch rounder, but she had the same high cheekbones and pert nose. Her eyes were the same hazel as Bel’s own, only her hair was a faded gray-blonde like her mother’s, whereas Bel’s hair was deep red like her father’s. The lady’s gown matched the blue flowers of the sofa perfectly as if she had chosen it specifically for that reason. She looked up with a surprised but welcoming smile.

Setting aside her stitching, she stood as Bel curtsied and then held out her hands to her niece. “Welcome, my dear Isabel, welcome to London.”

Before Bel could say a word, there was shouting that sounded like it came from the bowels of the house—perhaps the kitchen. There must have been a whole host of people all screaming for them to hear. Lady Blakemore took a step toward the door, perhaps to go see what the commotion was about. Bel jumped into action and grabbed her aunt’s hands.

“Thank you so much, Aunt Claire, for allowing me to come visit you,” she said over the noise. “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to making my debut. I have been positively dreaming of this day for the entirety of the past year,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.

Lady Blakemore was clearly torn, wanting to see what the problem was in the kitchen and needing to be polite to her niece. She kept looking over her shoulder toward the door, even as she tried to smile and be warm and welcoming.

“And we have been so looking forward to your arrival! I can’t imagine what that noise is,” she said, looking anxiously toward the door.

“But you are lucky to have so many staff members and so well-trained, I’m certain. Why, we have merely four servants at Bender Hall. Yet, the moment I arrived there were two footmen to take my things inside as well as your most efficient housekeeper, Mrs. Sully, to greet me,” Bel gushed.

It worked. Her aunt turned back to her and lifted her chin. “But of course, my dear. This is London, where appearances must be kept and well… We do have the means to maintain a proper staff—that is not to say anything against your dear Papa…”

“No, naturally, I understand. Mama reminded me any number of times how fortunate you were to have won the affection of Lord Blakemore when you were brought out into society. She hopes that I may do half as well as you.”

Chapter Two

“I expect you to do as well, if not better, I’m sure,” Lady Blakemore said. Bel could tell from the strain showing through her aunt’s eyes how difficult a conversation this was for her. One did not discuss such things. Bel knew that, and if it weren’t for her need to keep her aunt’s attention on her rather than on her sister, who was probably even now sneaking in through the kitchen and up to her room, she would never have had the nerve.

“Do you, indeed?” Bel gave a little giggle. “I pray you are right! I would like nothing more than to live in such a beautiful home with a large staff. I don’t know what sort of dowry Papa was able to manage for me. Do you think I might… And well, that is to say nothing of the prospect of falling love. Did you, dear Aunt, fall in love like Mama did? Oh! Or is that too personal a question to ask?” She put a hand to her mouth and widened her eyes. She truly did not wish to offend her aunt in any way.

Lady Blakemore’s lips pursed, but the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile. “It is indeed a personal question, and if I were anyone other than your aunt… However, I understand you have been raised in a small society where such topics may not be out of bounds. Mine was not a love-match like your mother’s, however, Blakemore and I are very attached to one another. One need not fall madly in love like your parents did to make a good marriage. Please do keep that in mind.”

“Yes, ma’am, although… Is it very bad of me to want a love-match, do you think?” She now spoke from her heart for she wanted nothing more than to fall deeply, madly in love like her parents had. Bel saw their love every day in the way they looked at each other. She wanted a man to look at her the way her father looked at her mother, even after twenty years of marriage. She hoped she could find someone to smile at her in just that way.

Her aunt seemed to take pity on her as she gave Bel a true, understanding smile. “It’s not bad at all, I just don’t know that you should get your hopes up. Your mother has specifically said in her letters that she would like you to make a match this season so they may bring out your sister next year. Sadly, as you know, your parents simply cannot afford to have you both out at the same time.”

“I know.” Tears pierced Bel’s eyes. “There is nothing I wanted more than to be brought out with Bee, but…”

“I understand. Naturally, the two of you are very close.” Lady Blakemore gave Bel’s hands a squeeze before letting them go.

The commotion downstairs had died down. Bel hoped her sister was now safely hidden away, and she could relax some.

“We are, indeed, very close,” Bel agreed as she followed her aunt to the sofa to sit down.

“However, you will, I’m certain, manage without her these next few months. In fact, you’ll probably be so busy you’ll hardly have a moment to miss her,” Lady Blakemore said, resuming her seat.

“I will take your word for it, my lady. And, oh, I am so looking forward to all the parties and balls, drives in the park, and outings to the theatre. Mama told me all about the wonderful things she did when she made her debut,” Bel said with a giggle. “She said there would be many gentlemen to dance and speak with. And of course, I so look forward to making new friends among the ladies as well. Oh, and clothes! Please do tell me we’ll be able to go shopping? Mama said I would have money to buy some new gowns.” Bel could have gone on and on with all she was looking forward to, but Lady Blakemore smiled and shook her head.

“You must contain your excitement, my dear. It is very sweet but so very provincial. I do hope your Mama has taught you what is appropriate conversation and what is not?”

“Yes, indeed,” Bel said. “She said that you were extremely, um, particular when it came to one’s behavior, and I would need to absolutely be on my best behavior at all times.”

Her aunt gave a little laugh. “Why do I have a feeling your mother used a different word than ‘particular’? Difficult, perhaps? Horrid?”

Bel bit her lower lip. “I should not say,” she whispered.

Her aunt gave her a look from under her eyelashes. That, coupled with a little smile, had Bel giggling. “I believe the exact word she used was ‘hard-nosed’,” she admitted.

Aunt Claire laughed, much to Bel’s relief. “Yes. Well, I suppose that is deserved. I am rather hard-nosed, or as you so politely put it, ‘particular’ when it comes to a young lady’s behavior. I have a reputation to maintain, Isabel. I am known for keeping to the rules and expecting others to do the same. When we leave this house or have guests in, I expect you to be a model young lady, is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bel said, nodding. This was nothing new or surprising. Her mother had told her as much.

“You are to be careful of your conversation at all times, no matter with whom you are speaking. When you open your mouth, you not only represent yourself but our entire family. And just as importantly, that includes your sister. If you are rude or unkind, society will expect Beatrice to be the same. You are the one forging this road. If you behave well and say just the right thing, you will have an easy time of it and smooth the way for Beatrice to follow, do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“For example, you must not respond with ‘yes, ma’am’ but ‘yes, my lady’ or ‘yes, Aunt.’”

“Yes, ma’—my lady.”

Her aunt nodded. “Very good. You’ll get used to it.”

“I do expect I will, but you will please excuse me the first few times I make a mistake, Aunt?” Bel asked, hoping her aunt wasn’t actually as hard-nosed as her mother had said.

“I shall. And that was very well said.” Aunt Claire nodded approvingly. Bel did her best not to bounce in joy or clap her hands as she normally would have done at home. Instead, she continued to sit demurely with her hands clasped in her lap and simply allowed her happiness to shine from her eyes.

“Your enthusiasm, when displayed just so, will be appreciated,” her aunt said.

“Thank you, ma’—my lady. I am doing my best. It’s not easy to hide my feelings. I’m not used to doing so.”

“I understand, but a lady is always demure.”

Bel opened her mouth to say that she wasn’t sure if she would always be able to hide her feelings, but just then a maid appeared carrying a tea tray. Now for the real test, Bel realized. Could she pour tea and serve it with grace? Well, at least, in that she knew she would excel. And by now Bee must be well hidden away.

~*~

Edward Pike, Viscount Conway, followed the butler up the stairs, and waited while he was announced before walking into the drawing room of his sister’s stately London home.

“Conway!” Elizabeth practically screeched.

He didn’t even have time to bow before he was nearly thrown backward as Elizabeth hurled herself into his arms. He was forced to take a step back but managed to keep them both on their feet. Laughing, he pulled her tight and gave her a good squeeze before letting her go and pushing her away to get a good look at his little sister.

Her rich, brown hair was piled attractively atop her head and her brilliant blue eyes—exactly like his own—were beginning to have a light starburst of lines at the corners. The deep violet dress she wore brought out the pink in her cheeks and lips and was quite flattering.

“You look well. Older, but not in a bad way,” he said critically, looking her up and down.

She gasped. “Older! You should know better than to comment on a lady’s age.”

“Oh, come now, you’re what? Seven? Eight and twenty, now?”

She frowned at him. “You know very well I am to turn thirty next year. I am precisely eleven months younger than you.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I know, but truly you hardly look older than the girls just making their come out.”

Her lips turned up into a smile. “That’s much better. It’s a complete lie, but it’s the right thing to say.” She took another step back and said, “And let me look at you.”

He held his arms out and turned in a slow circle so she could admire him from all sides. “Old is what I am but not quite decrepit, yet.”

“Not at all.” She paused as she examined him. “Thinner,” she determined, putting a hand to her chin.

He shrugged. “It’s what happens when you don’t eat so much for a while.”

“Why haven’t you been eating?” she asked, the frown returning to her face as she dropped her hands to her sides.

“Come now, Elizabeth, you know why.”

“Do you not eat when you are sad?” she asked gently.

“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t. I’m afraid I haven’t had much of an appetite for some time.”

“I’m so sorry, Edward. Come, sit down.”

He followed her to the stylish gold damask sofa. She took his hands as they sat next to each other. “Tell me.”

His eyes burned for a second before he blinked to clear them. It had been too long. He shouldn’t still be feeling this way—or so he’d been telling himself for the past six months or more. He tried to put on a brave smile, but he wasn’t sure it worked. “The end was… She lingered…and in such pain,” he whispered, his voice not quite working right.

“Oh, Edward, I am so sorry.” Her beautifully expressive brow creased in sorrow. She’d always been so empathetic. He appreciated that about his sister. “Was it cancer? Did the doctor’s say?”

He could only nod; his throat had closed as it always did whenever he thought of his dearest Angelica.

“You were together for so long. What was it, three years, four?”

“Five,” he managed.

“But you never married…”

“No. But now, of course, I wish for all the world we had.” He sighed. “How I wish I had let her know how much I loved her. I mean, I told her, but marrying her… It would have meant so much more.”

“It certainly would have been more of a statement, but what would society have thought?” Elizabeth asked, getting straight to the heart of the matter—the one thing that had kept him from making his arrangement with Angelica formal.

“I should have… I should have been strong enough to ignore them. But I wasn’t. I allowed other people to dictate my actions, and she died never…”

“It’s all right, my love. I’m certain she knew how much you cared for her.” She gave his hands a squeeze.

“I hope so.”

“I know you, Conway. I know that you would have made her feel loved and cherished whether you were married or not.”

Conway caressed the back of his sister’s hand with his thumb.

“Have you been able to sing? To even go to the theatre since then?”

He could only shake his head. Just the thought of going back to where he and Angelica had spent so much of their lives made him nauseated. “I couldn’t,” he whispered. He cleared his throat.

“I mourned for her… I could do nothing for the longest time.” He paused and looked down at his hands. “For months, I could barely get myself out of the house. After that, I did nothing but wander the city. I thought of coming back sooner, but I wanted to stay close to her. I felt her there…in Venice. It was hard to leave but finally…” He sighed and looked back up at her. “Finally, I realized that I had to. I needed to come back.”

“Of course you did! My goodness! You’ve got to start your life over, and you’re going to. Being here is wonderful and you are going to be a new man in no time. You mark my words. We’re going to go out to parties and to the theatre and engage in all manner of activities. You will be so busy you won’t have time to even think of her.”

“No, it’s too soon.”

“It is more than past time. It’s been two years, Conway. You are not only going to re-enter society, my dearest, you are going to dance and have fun and, perhaps, even meet a wonderful young lady who will make you happy.”

He could only laugh at her optimism. “Oh, how I’ve missed you,” he said from his heart. He pulled her into another hug. But as they separated again, he said, “But you haven’t told me how you are doing. Has it been difficult since your husband died? You must miss him terribly.”

She gave him a sad little smile. “We were never in love, you know that. He married me because I was young.”

“I’m sorry, but now you have Matthew,” Conway said, giving her a warm smile and hoping to see her smile return as well. “How is he? He’s…what, three years old now?”

Elizabeth laughed. “Four!”

“Four? Really? Already?”

“Yes. I’d call for him, but he’s napping just now,” she said.

“No, no, don’t disturb him. I’m sure I’ll see him later.”

“Yes, you will. Most definitely. I can’t wait to introduce him to his uncle.”

“But he does have an heir, doesn’t he? There’s an older child as well, from St. Vincent’s first wife, no? I seem to remember you writing about your stepson,” Conway asked.

“Yes, although Paul is hardly a child. He is, however, a sweetheart. I don’t know how I would have gotten through all of this without his support.”

“Is he here in town with you?”

“Yes. Happily, I convinced him to come. Everything is going to become quite wonderful again, I can feel it.”

“You and your feelings,” he said, laughing. “Very well. We’ll see.”

“You will give it a try—re-entering society?” she confirmed.

He sighed, knowing that to argue with Elizabeth would be futile. She would simply keep pestering him until he agreed to do things her way. “Very well. I’ll try.”

~*~

Claire was enjoying a brandy with her husband that evening before bed as they always did. It was a lovely tradition they’d started on their wedding night and had never stopped. Initially, Blakemore had suggested the drink to calm Claire’s nerves when faced with the prospect of what was to come—such an innocent, naïve thing she’d been. It had worked so well, they’d continued doing it every night. For the past seventeen years, they’d enjoyed the time together just relaxing and talking about their day.

Now, Blakemore sat back in his favorite chair by the fireplace, cradling his glass in his hand. He wore his breeches and shirt but was barefoot and allowed his collar to hang open, revealing the blond hair that sprinkled across his chest. “So, what do you think?”

Claire finished swallowing the sip of liquor she’d just taken. She, herself, was completely ready for bed. She wore her dressing gown, and her hair had been braided for the night. She toyed with the ribbon holding the end of her braid together as it lay in her lap. “I’m sorry to say Isabel is exactly like her mother was at that age.”

“Is she that silly of a girl? I don’t know that I got that impression,” her husband said, narrowing his pale blue eyes, clearly thinking about her niece further. They’d met at dinner.

“She seemed so to me, although, I have to admit she is more capable of holding an intelligent conversation than Lily ever was. It must be her father’s influence.”

“I do rather like Kendrick,” Blakemore said, relaxing his forehead again.

“Yes, despite the fact that he is so enamored with my sister, he is quite a reasonable, thoughtful man—quite intelligent.”

Blakemore chuckled. “Indeed.”

“Well, tomorrow I will take Bel, as she likes to be called, to the modiste. The Duchess of Warwick will join us.”

“Excellent. I’m certain she’ll be a good influence on the girl.”

“Precisely. She also has an impeccable eye for fashion. One could not go wrong eliciting her opinions.”

“And then you’ll begin taking her to parties?”

“Yes. We’ll get a gown or two to start her off, just so she has something to wear to the first couple of events—they usually have something half finished that they will simply adjust to her.”

“Do you think she’ll take? Are silly girls in fashion?” he asked with a little laugh.

Claire couldn’t help but giggle. “They are always in fashion. I don’t quite understand it myself, but men seem to enjoy a girl who has very little brain of her own.”

Blakemore really laughed at that. “There is a certain type who does, yes.” His eyes twinkled suggestively. “I, myself, never was. I prefer clever women like you.” He set aside his drink and stood.

Claire laughed but allowed him to help her to her feet. “Oh, Blakemore—”

He didn’t give her the opportunity to finish her sentence before he caught her lips with his own. He pulled her against him, his hard wall of muscle now slightly softened with age but still masculine enough to send tingles of pleasure straight down to Claire’s toes. There was no more talk after that, and the rest of their drinks were left abandoned by the fire.

Chapter Three

~March 23~

The following morning, Bel insisted Bee take her place at breakfast and meet their aunt. She hadn’t been out of their room for nearly a full day, so she was happy to comply. She did her best not to make it too obvious that she was looking around the house for the first time. Luckily, she knew Bel wouldn’t have known where the breakfast room was either, so she had no qualms about asking a footman to direct her.

Her aunt and uncle were both in the room when she entered. She paused in the doorway to give them a curtsy, hoping that wasn’t too formal of her for first thing in the morning. But the instinct was there since this was actually the first time she was meeting them.

“Good morning,” she said, coming forward. She accepted a plate from the footman and proceeded to fill it with eggs, ham, and potatoes. She, herself, wasn’t so keen on a large breakfast, but she knew that Bel was, and since she was supposed to be her sister, she felt she needed to do as she did.

“I trust you slept well, Bel?” her aunt said with a welcoming smile.

“I did, thank you.” Bee sat down with her breakfast.

“Do you take tea or chocolate, Miss?” the footman asked, placing a cup next to her plate.

Bel loved chocolate, it was a special treat they were allowed every so often, but this was already going to be a much heavier breakfast than she was used to. Her sister would just have to manage without it. “Tea, thank you,” she told him.

“I’m glad to see you aren’t like one of those simpering misses who eat nothing,” her uncle said with a laugh.

Bee had the grace to flush slightly, but she laughed and said, “No, Uncle. I’m afraid I enjoy my meals perhaps too much.”

“By the looks of you, I wouldn’t say that. No, no, you enjoy your breakfast,” he said, giving her a wink.

She knew he meant it kindly, so she gave a very Bel-like giggle and proceeded to eat as if she were truly hungry.

“I have great plans for us today,” Aunt Claire said, giving her a broad smile.

With her mouth full, Bee could only look quizzically at her aunt.

“As soon as you have finished eating, we will pick up the Duchess of Warwick and go to my modiste. Yesterday you said you were looking forward to getting some new dresses, and I believe your mother said in her last letter that you were in need of a few walking dresses and ball gowns.”

“Oh, yes! I have been looking forward to shopping with you and am indeed in need of some gowns for my time here in London. I’m afraid our provincial dressmaker, while a wonderfully sweet woman… Well, she just doesn’t have the panache that a London modiste would,” Bee agreed with all the enthusiasm of her sister.

“Precisely. I wouldn’t want you looking like you just came in from the countryside. And the duchess has an excellent eye for fashion. I don’t know if you know her story, but before she married the duke, she was a modiste herself.”

Bee choked on her food and had to quickly take a sip of her tea to clear her throat. “I’m sorry. Did you say the duchess was a modiste?”

“Yes. Her parents are peers, of course, but she was raised by a foster family in a little village and thought to become a modiste here in London—she’s very talented. But then she met the duke, and they fell in love. He was broad-minded enough to not care about her background, so naturally, if he doesn’t care, neither does society,” Lady Blakemore explained.

“How very unusual,” Bee could only say as she sat there dumbfounded by this story. She suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be Bel and added, “And how romantic, my goodness! For a modiste from a little village to marry a duke…” She gave a dramatic sigh. “I can only hope I find a love like that.”

Her aunt smiled at her with a touch of condescension. “Happily, your bloodlines are impeccable. But, yes, I’m sure every girl dreams of falling in love and having the feeling reciprocated.”

“I wouldn’t count on it though, my gel,” her uncle said, bringing a touch of reality to the conversation. “What’s most important is that you find a fellow with a fine income, of good standing and family—and do so within the season—so that your sister can follow in your footsteps next year.”

“Yes, my lord,” Bee said, sobering immediately. His words reminded her of the importance of what she and her sister were doing—making sure that Bel found herself a good husband. That was, after all, why Bee had come along. Bel just wasn’t good at being practical. She would want to fall in love and have a wonderful romance, but for Bee to be able to make her come out the following season, Bel had to marry this year. Who knew how long it took to find someone to love?

“And so, when you are ready, we will be off to the modiste,” her aunt said, bringing them back to the main point.

Bee nodded and reapplied herself to her meal. Her stomach clenched in protest to what she was putting into it, but she forced herself to finish just about everything on her plate, knowing it was what her sister would have done.

What worried her, however, was how she and Bel were going to trade places before they actually left for the modiste’s. If Bee knew her sister—and she most definitely did—she would want to be the one to choose her dresses. Bee and Bel had very, very different tastes. Bel loved finery, frills, and fanciness; Bee preferred quiet elegance in her dresses with as few embellishments as possible. It wasn’t going to be easy wearing Bel’s dresses if Bee went out in her sister’s place, but Bel would probably object even more strongly if she had to wear dresses of Bee’s choosing.

Somehow, Bee had to create an excuse to go back to her room, before they left the house, so she and Bel could quickly trade places.

As she finished her meal, however, her aunt stood and motioned for the footman. “Please tell Miss Bel’s maid to fetch her pelisse for her. I wish to leave immediately. Already we’re going to be a little late to pick up the duchess.”

“Oh, that’s all right, Aunt. I’ll go up and fetch it,” Bee said, jumping to her feet.

Her aunt looked at her oddly. Frowning, she said, “But that’s what servants are for, child. I know you’re not used to having so many around, but you should leave the running to them while you finish your tea.”

Bee had no choice but to resume her seat. “Yes, ma’am. I am not, er, quite used to there being so many people at hand.” It was true, but it was embarrassing to admit as much and made it impossible for Bel to be the one to go to the modiste. She was not going to be happy, but sadly, there was nothing Bee could do about it.