“When I discovered I had a mother, I was shocked, then thrilled, and finally wary. Too many questions lurked in my mind. I’ve tried to prepare myself, to accept whatever life throws at me. On the voyage, I made up my mind to welcome her into my life. She’d corresponded with Papa. She wanted me.
“Since I’ve been here and have waited patiently for her arrival, I’ve come to resent her. Part of me—that little girl inside who grew up without a mama—wants to love her. The adult who recognizes the vicissitudes of reality wants to hate her.”
She grasped her hands in front of her while her eyes seemed to plead with him. “Don’t let me hate her Ralston. Help me understand her.”
She turned and fled the room, leaving him to his cold tea and an even colder feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Chapter 22
The trip to London took most of the day. Clutching her worry beads, Jane was exhausted in mind and spirit by the time they arrived. Initial defiance had morphed into trepidation. She had visions of being locked away in a dark cellar, like the heroine in a gothic novel.
When they arrived, they went straight to Siltsbury House where they were escorted from the mews by a somber-looking butler who took them to the servants’ staircase and into a private parlor. He closed the door when he left, leaving Jane and her guardian standing in an ornately decorated room with gold brocaded furnishings and highly polished tables. Bright coals warmed the room which was alight with candles.
Jane reached out and linked her fingers with Ralston’s. The human contact helped calm her thumping heart she was sure even he could hear. He didn’t pull away, giving her added courage.
A door opened, and an older woman stepped inside. “I am Mrs. Carolton, the housekeeper. I’ve ordered tea, and there is a bottle of brandy on the table behind you, milord. Lady Siltsbury will be here shortly.”
The woman came to Jane. “May I take your cloak and bonnet?”
“Thank you.”
She unbuttoned the cloak and drew it from Jane’s shoulders. Jane lifted the bonnet and veil from her head and handed it to the woman who dropped it and gasped, her eyes widening.
Lordy. Mother hadn’t even forewarned her housekeeper.
Ralston grabbed the woman, who seemed about to faint. “Here. Why don’t you sit for a minute, Mrs. Carolton. Did you not know Lady Jocelyn had a twin?”
She gasped for air.
Jane brought the housekeeper a tot of brandy, which the woman gulped down. Jane sat beside her until the woman’s color improved. “I’m Jane. Our parents separated when we were babes, and I have been living with my father, Lord Siltsbury, in America.”
“Lady Siltsbury said I was to see to the visitor’s needs in the family parlor. She also cautioned me about saying naught to anyone about the visitor’s identity. I was told you were a relation. Nothing else.” She raised her head and perused Jane’s face. “You are the mirror image of your sister. You both even have a tiny mole at the side of your mouth.”
Jane nodded and said nothing, her gaze fastened on the door.
The housekeeper, now recovered, took Jane’s and Ralston’s outerwear.
“I’ll bring tea in.” The woman disappeared behind another interior door, closing it firmly behind her.
Folding her hands in her lap, Jane stared at her guardian. “What do you suppose this theatrical secrecy is all about? I’m sure it has nothing to do with my feelings.” She took a deep breath. “I wanted to believe my mother had changed and decided she couldn’t wait to see me. My rational self knew it wasn’t true, but my heart sometimes tries to fool me. Now I know better.”
Ralston’s eyes seemed to harden. “I’m irritated beyond measure that we were hustled to a back staircase like spies reporting to their handler. Last time I was in this home, the front door was in good repair. You’re a daughter of the house. You deserve the same respect given to the other two aristocratic females in residence. I shall have words with your mother, make a note of it.”
Jane scoffed, “If she ever appears. I’m beginning to think she’s an apparition or a witch who can materialize in a poof of smoke only at certain hours.”
A strange voice entered the conversation. “A witch, eh? I believe I prefer ghost. I’ve always fancied a pale complexion. Mine seems to always have color in it, no matter how much powder I apply.”
Jane turned toward the doorway where a dainty woman stood. She had blond hair tucked into a stylish chignon and wore a fashionable gown of dark-blue muslin, the color of violets. Her face was free of wrinkles, and her eyes seemed weary, as if life had dealt her multiple blows from which she’d never recovered. Her oval mouth didn’t smile, nor did she open her arms to her daughter as she approached.
A hard woman, Jane surmised. Or a woman wearing invisible armor.
“Is she ready? She does have her sister’s looks. I’m taken aback, actually, at how much they resemble one another.” She addressed her remarks to Ralston who had risen at her entrance.
“If you mean has she been apprised of society’s rules, yes. She’s ready.”
“And what about her accent? Did she master our patterns of speech?”
“She has. Plus she has been schooled in rules of propriety. She’s ready to be introduced to society, if that’s why you brought her here.”
Jane’s anger simmered as her mother continued to address Ralston as if she weren’t in the room. Not wanting to embarrass her guardian, she tried to bite back a response.
Enough is enough.
“You can address me, Mother. I am not deaf, and I can speak quite clearly. Or should I call you Lady Siltsbury?”
The woman turned and raised an eyebrow. Her silent, steady gaze tickled the hairs at Jane’s nape. Lord help her, Jane wanted to depart immediately.
“Cheeky. Just like your sister. You will address me as Mother, as Jocelyn does.” She sat next to Ralston and surveyed her daughter in great detail. Jane fidgeted under the woman’s stare and focused on her hands, wishing she still held her worry beads.
Her stomach was in knots, and there was an odd pain in her chest. She hadn’t expected hugs and kisses. She had hoped for some display of welcome with maybe a squeeze of her hand or a kind smile of affection. Instead, the woman scrutinized her from head to foot like a modiste prior to a fitting and continued to address her comments to Ralston.
“Your instructions were to keep her hidden until she could hold her own with ton gossips. Did anyone see her in Painswick? Did anyone remark on her likeness to Jocelyn?”
He sat back with folded arms, looking bored. “Only my sister, who was present when Jane’s new wardrobe arrived. She made a few adjustments to the apparel and had her maid style Jane’s hair. No one else.”
He’d left out the odd encounter with Jocelyn’s old swain. Good. She couldn’t endure any more questions.
A knock at the door brought back the housekeeper carrying a tea tray with a plate of biscuits. Lady Siltsbury poured tea in a cup, nodding at Jane. “Do you wish milk or sugar?”
“Sugar please.” She rose and took the cup from her mother, noting how dainty the woman’s hands were. Only one ring adorned either hand. A wedding ring. She returned to her seat, unable to even think about food. Was she brought here to be scrutinized, or was there another reason for the covert visit? Would she be returning with Ralston to his London home tonight?
While Mother quizzed Jane’s guardian on the nature of her instruction, Jane thought back to all the expectations she’d had when she finally realized her mother was alive. When they never materialized, she’d grown disillusioned and, finally, downright angry. Oddly, she’d allowed her hopes to rebuild for this visit.
Disappointed, she thinned her lips and dismissed her hopeful expectations. This woman had given birth to her. Nothing more. She’d remained behind while her husband and babe floated away on a
tide. She owed this woman nothing. She didn’t even know her.
To be fair, Papa was not blameless. He could have forced his wife to emigrate with him. Or he could have remained and been a barrister in England.
She remembered a conversation she’d had with him once, about why he’d left home. Not a man who encouraged talk of the past, he’d readily given her an answer. There were too many opportunities in the new world to ignore, and too few in the old one. The conclusion, when the choice was offered to him, had been foregone.
Lady Siltsbury finished her tea and rose. “Come, I’ll show you to your room. I’ve already ordered your trunk brought up and stored there, and I daresay your maid has begun to put your clothes to rights.”
Panic curled in her gut. “I’m to remain?”
Mother crossed her arms in front of her. “This is your home. Of course you are to remain. Did you think to live with Lord Ralston? Now that would be grist for the gossips.”
“But . . . I do not know anyone here.”
Lordy, she was not a whiner.
Lady Siltsbury—she refused to think of her as Mother—shrugged and opened the door. “Follow me, please. You can come as well, Ralston, and visit your other charge.”
She clutched Ralston’s arm as they followed Lady Siltsbury through a rabbit warren of hallways. At the end of one, they made a turn into an open door where a large, old-fashioned bed occupied only a fraction of the space. “This was the main suite for the earl and countess. An adjoining room is connected by a large room for clothing. For now Jocelyn’s maid will attend you when dressing. Yours can join the staff belowstairs until needed.”
“You gave up your chamber?” Ralston sounded skeptical.
“This house has many spacious rooms. I’ve redone several. Mathew was always generous in allowing me to use my inheritance as I saw fit. He even sent additional funds when the roof needed a costly repair. This will continue to be Jocelyn’s home until she marries, and after, if she wishes to keep it. I inherited a property of my own from my parents and will retire there with Jane, as the new earl will occupy the hereditary estate.”
Jane couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “How often did you and my father correspond?”
“Rarely. Only if there was an exceptional need. The rest of the time I—we—thought it best to pretend the other didn’t exist.” She raised her chin as if expecting a blow.
She deserved one.
“I, too, was given a property by my generous father,” said Jane. She would be dragged kicking and screaming before she’d live with this woman.
Lady Siltsbury tilted her head. “Ah yes, the seaside property. I cannot abide the place and never visit. The water is too close.” She shuddered and headed through the connecting room.
“Who occupies the room beyond?” asked Jane.
“Your sister of course. How can one maid dress two ladies if they are far apart?”
Jane swallowed several times, trying not to become alarmed. So many surprises in one day were off-putting. “I am to meet her today? Now?”
“You are. I must warn you, your sister is ill. She does not like visitors popping into her chamber while in her bedridden state.”
“Is it serious? Have you called a physician?” Ralston turned into the dutiful guardian, concerned about his other charge’s health.
“No, I have not. Nothing can be done. It must run its course, and that course could take a week or more.”
Ralston narrowed his eyes in concern. “Should Jane remain here. I do not want her to contract something that might be contagious.”
Lady Siltsbury laughed, and her dainty hands fluttered in front of her. “Please. Give me more credit than that. Jocelyn’s ‘state’ is why Jane has been summoned early, and I pray that she is prepared.”
She opened the door and approached the bed where Jane’s mirror image lay propped on large, fluffy pillows, a book tossed on the floor.
“Oh no, Mama. No visitors.” Jocelyn covered her face with her hands.
The girl in the bed was a stranger, but a curious connection seemed to draw Jane closer. She sat on the edge of the bed and gently tugged her sister’s hands away from her face. What she saw would have been appalling if she hadn’t suffered a similar fate several years ago.
Jane’s twin was covered with red welts, and she knew from experience they itched like the devil and scratching made them worse.
She swallowed the smile on her lips and tried to appear somber. “You have hives.”
The woman in the bed, who looked so much like her, widened her eyes and reached out to touch Jane’s face. “I-I don’t believe it. Mama said I had a twin. I thought her addled by excessive strain over the arrangements for the ball. You are real.”
They gazed at each other as if no one else were in the room. Jane broke the silence.
“What was the cause of this catastrophe? Is it possible you have been dining on a particular hothouse delicacy called fresh strawberries?”
Jane’s first experience with strawberries had been at a market fair. A farmer had been experimenting with the plant and offered a sample. They were too delicious to refuse, and Jane had bought a large basket of them to take home. They were delightfully sweet, and she had eaten more than she should. The next day, and for several more days after, she’d regretted her gluttony.
“You look like you want to laugh at my discomfort.” Jocelyn drew the covers to her chin. “Why are all of you in this room? And why is Ralston in here?”
“Lord Ralston is our guardian. He has every right to be concerned about our welfare until we reach our majority, or marry.” She peered closely above Jocelyn’s ear. “I believe I see a new welt on your scalp.”
“I knew it.”
The spots were funny to see. They also were misery incarnate. She held her mirth and tried to look compassionate. But the conversation taking place behind her made her pay close attention.
“The birthday ball is in two days,” said Lady Siltsbury.
“A shame. I know you’ve gone to great expense. Jocelyn must remain in bed.”
“It is too late to call off the festivities now, Ralston.”
“Will you host the ball without her?”
“Not really.”
“What do you mean?”
“Jane is going to impersonate Jocelyn.”
Chapter 23
Jane stared at her mother in horror. “Such a deception would be scandalous.”
Lord Ralston immediately agreed. “You cannot be serious, Lady Siltsbury. Jane can be made to look like her sister, but can she mimic her mannerisms, her quirks, her speech inflections? What if someone challenges her?”
“Quirks? Who has quirks? What is he talking about, Mother?” Jocelyn sniffed and raised a damp cloth to her face, dabbing the welts there.
Lady Siltsbury gave her daughter a dismissive look. “You bite your lower lip when flummoxed. You twirl a lock of your hair while talking. You give a tiny shrug of your shoulders and bat your lashes when complimented by a gentleman.”
“You’re quite observant,” Ralston said.
“As soon as the welts appeared and she was diagnosed, I made a list. Your sister, Elizabeth, assisted me.”
“Of course she did.” Ralston began to pace, walking the length of the room then back.
Jane marched over and stood in front of her mother. This was outrageous. She’d have none of it.
“You expect me to learn all of my sister’s behavioral traits in two days? I’ve just met her. I cannot do it. Call off the ball. Hold it in two weeks. Her complexion should be clear by then.”
“What about Aubrey?” The wail came from the bed.
Jane tilted her head, waiting for an explanation.
Lady Siltsbury sighed. “Aubrey is the given name of the Marquis
of Leisterbridge. Jocelyn expects him to propose at the ball. Afterward, he’s planning a trip to Scotland to do some shooting and won’t return for a month.”
Ralston scratched his head. “He hasn’t approached me. Usually the guardian is the one who gives permission for the courtship to proceed.”
“A guardian is usually a family member. You are not. He has given strong hints to me, and I have not discouraged him. If Jocelyn accepts his suit, he will seek you out, as is proper.”
Jane wanted to shriek. A proposal! She was supposed to pretend to be her sister and also act like she was in love with some rogue? Had everyone lost their minds? She stomped her foot. “No. I shall not do it.”
Lady Siltsbury glared, took a deep breath, and softened her response. Facing her daughter, she spoke in a calm, reasonable voice—not unlike one Papa used when trying to change Jane’s mind.
“You are a stranger to me, Jane. Lord Ralston has sent me reports, as did Elizabeth, that you are an intelligent, kind person with a good heart. This ball, this proposal, means everything to your sister. If it has to be cancelled, there may not be another opportunity to secure this match. Leisterbridge is considered the catch of the Season, and Jocelyn set her cap for him a year ago. She considers herself fortunate to have captured his interest. Would you dash the hopes of a young woman—even one you’ve just met—of becoming a duchess one day if it is in your power to help her achieve this lifelong dream?”
“You’re being unfair,” said Ralston.
“This is too important. I know you are opposed. Shouldn’t the girl be allowed to make up her own mind?”
“She only arrived a short time ago, is tired from the journey, and is probably hungry. I know I am.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Give her leave to think about what you’ve said and let her come to a decision when she’s had time to rest.”
He turned to Jane. “I’m going to depart now. I want you to know I support whatever decision you make. This performance sounds precarious to me, and while you and Jocelyn would, under ordinary circumstances, be difficult to tell apart, there are those intangibles we’ve already noted. What if someone tries to elicit a response to a comment about an event you never attended? What if you are hailed by someone, and you do not acknowledge them because you do not know their name? The pits are numerous and open, and you could fall in easily, never to recover.”
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