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Beth and the Mistaken Identity

Page 12

by Alicia Cameron


  ‘Yes. Very well.’

  The marquis noted her eagerness to be off, such that her body was inclined forward, her hands poised to pick up her skirts, though her feet were rooted to the ground.

  ‘With your permission, my lord,’ she said, with the briefest, most painful look in his eyes.

  He inclined his head. She curtsied, then picked up her skirts and almost ran from the room.

  ‘Well, that is the mystery settled,’ Emmi was saying as he regarded the door she had left through. Then she added carelessly. ‘But why must I still call her Beth? I own it will be difficult to call her Sophy after all this time,’ she prattled, but the marquis was deep in thought. His Beth was in trouble. How could he help if he did not know what it was? ‘Perhaps,’ continued Emmi, ‘her real name is Sophia Elizabeth.’ She looked at him brightly and he suddenly paid attention.

  ‘You are foolish beyond measure, Emmi, can you not see that Beth is in some real trouble?’

  Chapter 12

  Beth almost raced up the stairs to see Miss Sophy. She’d had only one more day to go before she could feel clean again, free of the lies that she had let them believe. And now the devil had arrived and whatever else she knew, she knew no good could come of it. She was stopped from genuinely sprinting, as she had had to in fulfilling Miss Badger’s will on regular occasions, by the presence of footmen in the hall. She reached her room and threw open the door to find Miss Sophy lying negligently on the chaise longue, scratching her shoulder.

  ‘This dress is very itchy,’ she uttered in an offhand way, ‘I can’t think how Betty stands it.’

  Beth had come to a halt and by rote had taken up her customary posture in Miss Sophy’s presence, very straight and with her hands clasped in front of her.

  ‘Betty—?’ asked Beth, her thoughts all at sea.

  Miss Sophy smiled and sat up, ‘The maid that I exchanged this with for that lovely pink muslin. You know the one, Beth.’ She leaned forward and patted the sofa. ‘Come and let me tell you of my adventures,’ she added enthusiastically, ‘I have been on the stage, you know. Not very comfortable, but vastly amusing!’

  Beth sat, not knowing how to deal with any of this. She was nervous, and many other emotions were choking her. A bare half hour ago, she had been only an inch away from Wrexham’s face, falling into his eyes, and now she was the maid again, fearful of what her mistress might say or do next. She had raced upstairs to confront her, to ask her what new madness this was, but halfway to the room, she remembered who she was once more.

  ‘Beth, ‘said Miss Sophy, ‘Why do you look so gloomy? Do you fear I will tattle on you? We are friends, are we not? Do tell me how you started masquerading as me. How clever of you. You know, when I was getting a peal rung over me for not worrying about you, I told them you would be fine. And you are!’ She leaned over and gave Beth a quick hug. ‘Not that I could have guessed you would be living in such splendour. A marquis! Tell me how you managed it.’

  Beth resented Miss Sophy’s sanguine account of her prospects, at the same time as being caught up in her affection. ‘I did not manage it Miss, it just — just happened.’ Sophy’s eyes widened, a rapt listener. ‘I suppose it is because you do dress me better than, er, Betty.’

  ‘What were you wearing?’ said Sophy, enthralled.

  ‘The blue pelisse miss, and this dress,’ said Beth, ‘But the point is, that as I was waiting to apply to the landlord for a position, a gentleman — the marquis, mistook me for a lady, or at least a schoolgirl of gentle birth. He procured me a room, which I, in my pride, had demanded of the landlord. It was in the evening, and though I could hardly afford it, I knew, by regarding the inn, that it was not the correct position for me.’

  ‘Yes, yes, but how come you to be living here, and under my name?’

  ‘I have never claimed to be you miss, I swear. Indeed, I denied it.’

  ‘To whom?’

  ‘The princess, miss.’

  Sophy laughed. ‘Now you are jesting, Beth. There cannot be a princess in this fairy-tale.’

  ‘Indeed there is, Miss Sophy. The marquis’s sister is a widowed princess, but lately returned to town from Europe. She had seen us that dreadful — that night at Vauxhall Gardens, miss. She admired the dress I was wearing from afar, and asked someone who the lady in pink was.’

  ‘And they said Sophy Ludgate, because I was wearing the pink domino!’ Miss Sophy said brilliantly then added thoughtfully, ‘Perhaps we shouldn’t have taken off our masks…’

  Beth’s temper rose, but she merely said, ‘No miss.’

  ‘So the princess thought I was you, and the marquis offered to drive me to London, and since it was my best hope of finding a situation, I agreed.’

  ‘Well, how splendid. But why are you in the marquis’s house still?’

  ‘It was difficult to get away from him, miss,’ said Beth, less sure of her ground. ‘I had given my name as Elizabeth Fox, ma’am, but the princess would not shake the notion that I was you. Because of your reputation, miss.’ Beth looked to see how Miss Sophy took this, but she was nothing but interested. ‘She feared I had run away from my guardians. And the marquis refused to let me go until he could hand me to my family.’

  ‘That is the chivalrous thing to do, I suppose. I do not expect that they could release you in all conscience. Those dreadful proprieties again,’ she sighed. ‘I expect you would have a position by now if you were not so caught.’

  ‘Girls without a character find it very hard to find a position, miss,’ said Beth repressively.

  Miss Sophy looked surprised at Beth’s hint of disdain. ‘Oh, but you are so very clever, Beth. You sew so well and do hair delightfully. I knew you would be alright.’ Beth swallowed. Miss Sophy would never understand. ‘And what happened next?’

  I fell in love, thought Beth wonderingly, but with someone so far above me that it is ridiculous. But she said instead, ‘They sent a message to Horescombe House miss, as they believed me to be you.’ Beth looked earnestly at her mistress, ‘I never told them so, Miss Sophy. I denied it vehemently.’

  ‘Vehemently! Your vocabulary is improving, Beth, and your accent is truly marvellous. See how my tutelage saw you through this adventure?’

  ‘Yes, miss.’

  ‘I can guess what is next. The Horescombes had left town to punish me with the most dreadful house party you can imagine, all the way in Devon. And so finding this out, the marquis resolved to keep you until the general returned.’

  ‘Yes, miss. I knew I should have escaped, but by this time I could not repay their care of me by worrying them.’

  ‘Worry — why, whatever can you mean?’

  Beth had heard enough from her erstwhile mistress to know that worry for her maid had not featured in her thoughts, and made haste to defend her friends, ‘The marquis and Her Serene Highness are unusually kind, my lady. I feared to wound them.’

  Miss Sophy gave her that pert regard. ‘I expect that you mean more tender-hearted than I. I have said sorry for dragging you into a scrape, Beth. And what is more,’ she added piously, ‘I had determined, when I inherited, or became married, that I would look for you and re-engage you!’

  Beth wondered what would have happened, what still might happen, in the years before that occurred. She shuddered to think of herself becoming a tavern wench, or worse. The alternative, unless she could earn her living by stitching, was to starve to death. But she merely said, ‘Thank you miss.’ She needed to change the subject before she showed her anger. ‘But how did you find me miss?’

  ‘Oh, I had run away from the dreadful house party, just to teach the general and Lady Ernestine a lesson, you know, and determined to go home until they returned.’

  Beth’s face was grave.

  ‘Oh, do not be a fusspot, Beth. I dressed in this awful gown so that I would not be accosted. It is the first time I have ever been unchaperoned, do you realise? It was quite a heady experience. And there were such droll characters on the stage … but I will t
ell you all later. The point is, when I met your butler, he asked whose maid I was, and since I did not know what other servants he might know, I thought the safest name to say was my own. When he told me Sophy Ludgate was residing with his master, I did not know what to think. But of course I had to come.’ She smiled joyfully, then paused. ‘But if you are Miss Fox here, how came he to believe you were I?’

  Beth did not take long to think of this. ‘I expect he was in the room when the master and his sister were discussing it. No one ever notices servants.’

  ‘There is a change in you, Beth. And it not just in the new hairstyle. I am not surprised that you have passed for a lady. How very cross the marquis will be when he finds out.’

  Beth looked tortured and Miss Sophy leaned forward and took her hand. ‘Don’t be worried Beth, I have people cross with me all the time. It doesn’t last forever.

  ‘I thought — I hardly know, but I thought that Lady Ernestine, on her return tomorrow might be able to explain my predicament —’ she put her head down and raised it again. ‘No, I know it was wrong. I should have told them the truth as soon as I reached London.’

  ‘You should, of course,’ said Miss Sophy piously, ‘but I expect you were enjoying the adventure too much.’ There was nothing to say to this. ‘I think it an adventure to be a lady’s maid. We shall have such fun, Beth. I shall be you, and you me, for a few days at least. And the general shall pay for that dull party and know that he must not try me. And I shall be chaperoned by you all the time, so he cannot say I have ruined my reputation. But we had best not go out much. I may be recognised.’

  Beth, who had jumped up at the mention of more deception, was striding the floor. ‘We cannot do this! Your family will be desperately worried. I have been a cowardly fool, but this I will not tolerate.’

  Miss Sophy pulled herself up. ‘You forget yourself, Beth. You will do as I demand.’

  Beth froze. ‘No, I shall tell the marquis this minute. You are not my mistress any longer.’ She turned swiftly and headed for the door, but the swift figure of Miss Sophy caught her, and held her arm.

  ‘Beth, Beth, you are overwrought. Stop a minute and think. The Horescombes will return this evening, but very late. What harm is there in waiting at least until tomorrow, as you had planned?’ Her manner changed a little. ‘I quite forgive you for speaking to me in that tone, for your nerves have been stretched since you left Foster Hall, and I am aware that some of that is my fault. Let me be your maid for tonight, Beth. It will be so droll.’

  There was no point in arguing with her, Beth knew. ‘I must go now, E— the princess is serving tea.’

  Miss Sophy looked perplexed for a moment, but then said in her energetic way, ‘Oh, very good. Continue the charade as we planned. Tea with a princess, Beth! You must be transported with joy.’ Beth headed for the door, saying nothing. ‘Oh,’ said Miss Sophy, lying back on the chaise longue, ‘have tea and bread and butter sent up, will you? I haven’t had anything since breakfast.’

  Beth turned and said, in as even a voice as she could manage, ‘It would be very odd to have tea sent to my maid. I suggest you beg the indulgence of Mrs Bates in the kitchen. I shall tell Dobson I wish you to be fed.’

  ‘To the manor born, Beth. It’s a bother going to the kitchen, but I suppose it may be interesting. Tell Dobson — how amusing!’ She laughed good-naturedly, and Beth breathed heavily.

  ‘Yes miss.’ She swept a curtsy, but as she rose she realised it had not been deep enough for a servant to a lady. But as she left the bedroom, she found she did not care.

  Emmi called to her as she passed the open door of the green salon, ‘Beth, tea is on its way. You are practically late.’

  ‘I shall be there directly, Your Highness, I have a note to write.’

  ‘Don’t be long delayed or it will be cold.’

  Beth smiled briefly, ‘I will be but a moment.’

  She headed to the library, where she knew she might find writing materials on his lordship’s desk. She was surprised to see him there and stopped at the entrance.

  They looked at each other directly, across the length of the room, and Beth felt unable to move. They were locked thus for perhaps a minute, until the marquis said, not dropping his eyes, ‘Have you come to tell me your secrets now, my Beth.’

  How could he call her that? Her heart swelled, she thought now that to be torn from him would be to leave her bleeding for all her life. But at what she saw in his face she now feared worse — that she would be the means of wounding him, too. The tears rolled down her face as she looked at him.

  ‘I cannot, my lord, I am too much a coward, and I have deceived you too much.’

  He dropped his head then, but Beth thought she saw a gleaming drop of water hit some paper before him. ‘Why then?’ he said harshly.

  ‘I wished to write a note and end one lie at least.’

  ‘The Horescombes? Very well,’ he said, passing her on his way to the door. She had jumped aside as though he might burn her, she gave a sob and then stiffened her spine. She emerged from the library in but a minute, and handed Dobson an unsealed sheet. ‘Have this note delivered to Horescombe House, if you please, Dobson. Immediately.’

  He bowed and looked into her face, but she was as expressionless as she could be.

  ‘My maid may be in the kitchen. Could you ask Cook to see she is fed?’

  ‘Certainly miss.’ She smiled at him briefly, to soften the formality of her speech.

  She moved to the green salon where Emmi was pouring tea, and beginning to chastise her lateness, stopping when she saw her face. ‘But Beth, whatever troubles you? You are pale as death.’

  ‘I am quite alright.’

  She joined Emmi on the couch, waiting while she poured the tea. ‘Well, now that we know who you truly are, Beth, will you not consent to tell me the rest?’

  Beth stopped her arm raising the cup and saucer and brought her hand down to rest with hers. ‘Oh, Emmi, it is not long before you find out about the dreadful — liberties — I have taken by allowing you to befriend me.’

  ‘Liberties?’ declared Emmi, ‘What on earth are you talking about Beth? You must tell me all, I command it.’

  ‘Please do not. Tomorrow—’

  ‘We will know all! I know, I know. You keep telling me so.’ She pouted in an exaggerated way, ‘But princesses are not accustomed to waiting for what they desire.’

  Beth smiled. ‘But you are so far above other princesses.’

  ‘You know so many, Madame?’ Emmi smiled back.

  ‘No, but I know that you are far above any human being of my acquaintance, and that suffices.’

  Emmi looked touched. ‘What has brought on your strange mood, Beth? Don’t you know that Wrexham and I will stand your friend whatever you say?’ She stopped, looking worried. ‘Unless — Beth, tell me you are not married. I think that might break him.’

  ‘He has no such feelings for me,’ said Beth with a faux lightness, trying to convince herself as well as her friend. ‘But no, I am not married.’ She looked at Emmi who was smiling once more. ‘I tell you it makes no odds. Please do not make me tell you all tonight. I hope for one more dinner together, before it ends.’ Despite herself, she sobbed.

  ‘Beth, Beth there is no need for this…’

  Beth’s head came up. ‘I must tell you this at least. ‘I have practised a cruel deception, I have been very wicked indeed. But never think that I have deceived you in my enjoyment of your friendship, in my appreciation of your kindness. I do not think I will get a chance to say this tomorrow. I fear you will be too angry to hear me.’

  ‘Beth Fox! Or Ludgate … have some tea and let us talk no more nonsense. You are worried about your reputation or some such, but my brother and I have considerable influence. I will probe you no more, and after tea I will show you my silks, and we will cheer you up. All will be well, I assure you.’

  Beth looked at her sadly. ‘All is well for just now,’ she agreed, drinking her tea.
r />   The rest of the day went in a whirl, Beth’s head pounding in her sorrow. She knew this day would come, but she thought that there was this one day left, before the dreadful disappointment and the shock and disgust of her friends. She wanted to save some joy from today, though she knew she did not deserve it. She would serve her penance later. It was salved by the joy that Emmi showed when sharing her newest acquisition. She oooh and aaaahed at the lengths of silks, the sketches of the gowns they would soon become. ‘You sketched these?’ said Beth wonderingly.

  ‘Well yes, I had an idea of some gowns that I loved in Paris, and Madame Godot can give them some more interest.’

  ‘You are so talented Emmi! What a designer you would have made!’

  Emmi blushed and laughed. ‘Make my living as a seamstress? Oh, Beth you are so amusing.’

  Beth blushed. ‘Silly. But it is just such a talent Emmi, going to waste.’

  ‘It is not wasted, for I design for myself as I will for you my dear. I can just see you in a pale green crape, tucked at the bodice you know, and—’

  ‘Madame must on no account wear this turquoise,’ interrupted Cécile, lifting up a length of silk.

  The princess raised an eyebrow. ‘That will be all, Cécile.’

  The maid gave her a pert look and bustled out in a rustle of silk, muttering to herself in French.

  ‘She is a dear, my Cécile, but she sometimes seeks to rule my choices. Isn’t it lovely?’ she asked, picking up the satin.

  ‘Beautiful, but not for you, Emmi.’

  The princess opened her mouth and shut it again. ‘You are in a conspiracy against me.’ She went to the gilt mirror and held the fabric in front of her. ‘Oh blast, to use Wrexham’s phrase, I suppose you are both right. Now Cécile will be intolerably smug.’ She looked at Beth, ‘I shall have it made up for you, and sent to Horescombe House. I shall design something simple and maidenly — which I admit will test my powers — and you will look divine in it. She was holding it against Beth now, and Beth hugged her impulsively.

 

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