Lady Diana's Disguise (Seven Wishes Book 3)

by Bree Verity

  "Oh? What did you do?"

  "I might have intimated to Doctor Moore that you were in need of rescuing."

  "Rescuing? From whom?"

  "Your stepmother."

  Diana considered for a moment then smiled sadly. "I suppose is not really a mistake. I am in need of rescuing from my stepmother, but sadly, I destroyed any hope of Doctor Moore being the man to do it long ago. Captain Littleton or Mr. Carleton will take care of it."

  Lachlan shuddered. "I would hate to have to choose between the pair of them. But, if they are the only choices open to you, may I offer you some advice?"

  "Certainly." It seemed somewhat amusing to Diana to accept counsel from herself.

  "Captain Littleton is a dreadful bore."

  "How can you say that? You have known him a little less than a day and a half."

  Lachlan nodded. "Yes. And I am already bored by him. If you accept my advice, Mr. Carleton is the better man."

  "I shall take that under advisement," Diana replied with a smile.

  There was a pause in the conversation and both Diana and Lachlan shuffled their feet, unwilling to return to their day. "Well," said Lachlan, "I should get back to the guests." He grimaced.

  "And I should get back to the cleaning," replied Diana with an equal grimace. "Would you consider a swap?"

  "Desperately," replied Lachlan. "I should prefer cleaning any day to this." He swept a hand up and down his body. "I don't know how you keep from dying of ennui."

  Diana laughed shortly. "It is a problem, to be sure. Many of my fellow ladies are laid up with ennui for days on end."

  "Ennui? Surely you mean atrophy, if it is for days on end."

  This time, Diana laughed properly. Lachlan seemed so stricken to have to live her life, the one that she could not wait to get back to.

  "Patience," she counseled. "I'm certain we will see Fenella today. And all will be restored."

  But even as she said it, Diana found she was not certain that it would actually happen, and a niggle of despair passed over her, clouding her amusement.

  Chapter Eighteen.

  Diana found it difficult to sit and watch Maisie work after her discussion with Lachlan. It continued to prey on her mind that Fenella was nowhere to be found, and the burning desire to look at her own reflected face, if only to reassure herself that it was still Diana inside and that she was not slowly turning into the lowly Annie, would not be quenched.

  It occurred to her that usually, there was a platter or two left on the sideboard in the dining room holding leftovers from the previous meal that the guests could pick at if they grew hungry between meals. With a small smile, she decided to sneak into the dining room and take a good hard look at herself. She was certain it would ease her disquiet.

  "Maisie, I need to go down to the dining room for a moment."

  "What for?" asked Maisie, pausing from her work. Her face was red with exertion.

  "I need to find some silver."

  "That again? My Lady, it's too dangerous." Maisie stood up. "What if Mrs. Fletcher catches you in there? Or someone else sees you and tells her? What are you going to say?"

  Diana shrugged. "I'll be careful," she said.

  Maisie shook her head. "Just don't get caught," she warned.

  With a smile, she whisked out of the bedroom they were in.

  Standing in the shadow of the bedroom's doorway, she became aware of some movement ahead of her in the corridor and she watched in consternation as Mr. Carling came up the stairs. She squeezed back into the doorway and watched as Mr. Carling approached Captain Littleton's chamber and knocked quietly on the door. When it opened, he entered, but not before throwing a furtive glance up and down the corridor, thankfully not noticing Diana.

  The glance surprised Diana. What on earth would Captain Littleton and Mr. Carling have to discuss in such secrecy?

  Then, in a moment of furious clarity, it came to her. They were discussing her.

  What else could it be? The Captain and Mr. Carling were known as good friends. Their politics were the same, their families well-to-do and titled, their positions in society unquestioned. The only point of contention between them was Diana.

  She felt herself grow hot with anger. How dare they discuss her future without consulting her? Were they making some kind of deal for one of them to bow out gracefully, to force Diana's hand? Were they in collusion with her stepmother?

  Were they, even at this moment, deciding her fate?

  Furious, Diana charged to Captain Littleton's room and flung open the door.

  And there before her stood Captain Littleton and Mr. Carling in an embrace that was anything but brotherly.

  Diana lost the ability to speak. Her eyes widened and the color rushed to her cheeks. The horror on her face was only matched by that on the faces of her two suitors.

  Mr. Carling recovered first. "Close the door, girl," he hissed, and Diana hastened to obey. She had no desire to be known as the girl who was pursued in marriage by a pair of gentlemen who would rather prefer each other.

  "What do you want?"

  Captain Littleton's tone was supercilious and dared Diana to say anything about what she had seen. Once again, her anger grew, in the realization that no matter which one of the gentlemen she had chosen for her husband, she was to be duped by both of them.

  Then she remembered that right at this moment she was not Lady Diana, but only Annie, the housemaid.

  "I... I don't recall, sir." It seemed a fair lie to tell - truly, there were no thoughts in her head apart from the fact that her two suitors were lovers.

  "Then get out, girl, get out." Captain Littleton waved a dismissive hand in her direction and, without any other course of action open to her, Diana started to obey.

  "Wait."

  Mr. Carling strode up to Diana seeking, she thought, to cower her with his height. She stood, still and proud, staring into his face, her disdain uncovered.

  "What will your silence cost?" Mr. Carling asked. "Ten pounds? Twenty?"

  "You should give her nothing," the Captain said petulantly. "Nobody would believe her, even if she tattled to every single servant downstairs."

  "We do not want any mistakes, Littleton," replied Mr. Carling, not taking his eyes off Diana. "How much will it take."

  "I will not take your money," she replied contemptuously. "And what of poor Lady Diana?"

  "She would find out soon enough," he said, "and surely you are not enough attached to your mistress to forgo, let us say, thirty pounds? That's quite a sizeable sum of money for someone like you." He pulled the bills from inside his jacket and wafted them in front of Diana's face.

  The action made her angrier still. Coldly she replied, "I will not take your money."

  Suddenly, Mr. Carling grabbed her arm. "It's take the money, girl, or we shall have to ensure your silence in other ways."

  She shook him off, her heart racing at his threat. "I shall not tell."

  "How can we believe you?"

  "You may take me at my word. I am an honest woman."

  "Incredible," said Captain Littleton, his voice filled with irony. "How refreshing to come across an honest servant."

  "Littleton, do be quiet," said Mr. Carling testily. The only response was an unintelligible grumble from the Captain.

  "Last chance, girl." Again Mr. Carling wafted the bills in front of her face.

  Diana drew herself up tall. Her jaw was tight, eyes flashing. Just how did the two of them plan to dupe her? Just before they reached the altar? Did they suppose she would not renege right at the last minute? Or perhaps she was supposed to discover their proclivities after the vows had been spoken. Either way was intolerable.

  "I will not take your filthy money."

  Mr. Carling stared sharply at her for a long moment, then snapped his gaze away.

  "Tell nobody of this."

  Diana flinched as he reached past her, but Mr. Carling merely opened the door and Diana scampered out of the room, only to linger on the ot
her side of the door, straining to hear what the two men said.

  "I could not tell for certain whether she was trustworthy," Mr. Carling fretted.

  She most certainly is not, Diana thought viciously.

  Captain Littleton's reply was muffled, and Mr. Carling's voice disappeared as he stepped further into the room, but Diana did catch some of his words, "As to that, we can discuss with..."

  With whom? Who at the estate would be privy to their secret?

  "Psst! Annie!"

  Diana turned quickly to find Maisie beckoning her over. "Why are you still upstairs?" Then she noticed the room Diana had come out of. "What on earth were you doing in there?"

  "Maisie," said Diana, taking her friend's hands. "Just you wait until I tell you what I discovered!"

  "What, my Lady?" Maisie's eyes widened at Diana's tone.

  "I cannot marry Captain Littleton or Mr. Carling because they are in love - with each other!"

  Maisie pulled her hands out of Diana's so she could cover her mouth. "They're mollies?"

  Diana nodded. "I saw Mr. Carling creeping into the Captain's chambers, so I followed him. And they were embracing."

  "But that's unnatural," Maisie said, her nose wrinkling. "We should be telling the authorities."

  "Oh, no, Maisie, I have a much better idea."

  "What?"

  "I shall tell you later. Besides, it can only work if... when I am restored to being Lady Diana." Diana's face lit up. "Perhaps this is why Fenella has been absent. Because I had not discovered this secret. Perhaps now I can be restored." She lifted her voice. "Fenella! I know now!"

  To her disappointment, she was met with silence.

  "Oh well," said Maisie, linking arms with Diana. "She has to come back some time, surely?"

  "One would hope so, Maisie," replied Diana.

  But hope was fading.

  And it felt even more important for Diana to look upon her own face.

  Chapter Nineteen.

  At the same time as Diana had been breakfasting in the kitchen that morning, Simon had awoken determined to speak to Diana. Now that he knew her stepmother was involved, Simon wanted to present Diana with an alternative to whatever the scheming duchess had forced Diana into - the alternative, of course, being himself.

  Granted, Diana was likely to demur, and possibly refuse outright. As well she might, considering they had been virtual strangers for the past seven years. But Simon was certain he could overcome any objection Diana raised and, well, he had always been in love with her, so the plan presented no hardship for him at all.

  He wasted no time in ringing for his valet and in getting washed, shaved and dressed. If Horton noticed that his master took just a little more care over his appearance than usual, he did not show it, dispassionately going about his morning as if, Simon thought, something momentous was not about to happen.

  His morning toilette taken care of, Simon dismissed the valet with a smile and made his way to the dining room where breakfast was laid out for those guests who chose to rise early from their beds. This particular morning, it seemed that everyone had chosen to do so except, Simon noted with a little pang of disappointment, for Diana.

  Nevertheless, he remained in good cheer over breakfast, eating a hearty meal of bread and haddock, and steak and eggs and washing it down with several small, strong cups of coffee. Every time someone new entered the room, his eyes leaped to the doorway, and each time he smiled at the person entering and wondered where Diana was.

  He knew that Lady Edenburgh was watching his behavior and making her own guesses as to what it meant. He threw her a beaming smile, designed to offer her no clues at all.

  With breakfast being finished, Lord Edenburgh asked if he wished to join a game of cards, but Simon decided to join the much more lively group who were going to play charades, since it was far too cold to venture outdoors for more than a minute or two at a time, and certainly not long enough to go for the winter walk that had been planned.

  Charades had been something that Simon and Diana had always excelled at. It was as if they instinctively knew what the other person meant when they moved their body this way or that or made one or another hand gesture. But Diana was still not downstairs.

  "Doctor Moore, do pay attention," Miss Crisp pouted. "We are behind by six points!"

  Simon excused his behavior, but spent the entire game woolgathering, to the disappointment of his partners, who could barely get him to pay them attention, let alone decipher what it was they were trying to tell him.

  All too soon, Simon excused himself from the charades and wandered to where the gentlemen were playing cards. He knew better than to take a hand - he was far too distracted for cards. He was far too distracted for anything. Diana was still absent - where could she be? Perhaps she had been taken ill? He should ask Lady Edenburgh, he was, after all, a doctor, and the question would not seem out of place. Still, Lady Edenburgh would surmise from the question that Simon's distraction all morning had been on Diana's behalf, and then Simon would have to put up with goodness knows what interference from that erstwhile lady. No, he preferred to take care of this matter by himself.

  Hours passed, and Simon felt as if his teeth were very nearly ground down to the jawbone. He had been patient, settling down with a book he didn't read a word of, drinking far more coffee than he should, his every nerve straining for when Lady Diana might show herself.

  Just before luncheon, he could not hold the question back any further.

  He strode up to Lady Edenburgh and, trying to appear nonchalant, he said, "I have not seen Lady Diana this morning, my Lady. Is she perhaps ill? Could I offer some assistance?"

  Lady Edenburgh looked at him in some surprise. "She is quite well, Doctor Moore. In fact, she has been in conversation in the small parlor with several of the other young ladies this past hour. You must have missed her coming in."

  Simon's face darkened even as he noticed the mirth on Lady Edenburgh's countenance.

  "Excuse me," he said shortly, and stalked into the small parlor.

  Inside, he found Lady Diana, blossoming with health.

  "Come with me."

  Simon grabbed Lady Diana's arm and pulled her out of the small circle of women she had been chatting to.

  "Doctor Moore! This is most unusual!" But she allowed herself to be pulled along and did not even ask where they were going.

  He led Diana to a quiet corner alongside the staircase, then spun around to face her. Instead of the thunderous countenance he expected, Diana seemed quite amused by his antics.

  Ignoring this anomaly, Simon launched into his prepared speech, the one that had been on the tip of his tongue for nearly four hours.

  "Diana, we have known each other for quite a while. And though there has been a gap of some years, you must know that I have always had your best interests at heart."

  One of Lady Diana's eyebrows snaked up, and Simon blundered on.

  "You told me that your stepmother was doing something - and having observed the situation, I can only guess she is forcing you into marriage with that Littleton fellow."

  Diana looked away and Simon felt a moment of triumph - he was right.

  Taking both of her hands he declared, "Marry me instead, Diana. I have always cared about you."

  Simon certainly did not expect Diana to pull her hands away, nor did he expect her to laugh. "Oh dear. This is very awkward." Her eyes were dancing with amusement. "Perhaps you had better ask me again tomorrow." Then he watched, dumbfounded, as she walked away.

  He didn't know whether to be angry or ashamed or if he should be hopeful for his suit. Ask me again tomorrow? Oh dear? What kind of a response was that to a proposal? What exactly was Diana trying to do? Keep him on a string, along with her other suitor? Well, Simon did not dance to anyone's tune, let alone a chit who did not realise when she was offered a lifeline.

  He decided he should be angry and stomped his way upstairs to his chambers where he threw himself into a chair, crossed his
arms, and cursed the day that any woman had ever crossed his path. More trouble than they were worth, the lot of them.

  He fished a pope out of his pocket, filled it and tamped it down, only for the urge to be outside in the cold, crisp weather to come over him. Perhaps the cold would settle his embarrassment and his ire.

  He came downstairs and went through the now empty dining room, through the heavy curtains that covered the door, to the balcony. Lighting his pipe, he took a long, comforting draw and then exhaled, noticing the smoke seemed much heavier when it was mixed with his frosty breath.

  Here he stayed for a minute or two and his internal disquiet reduced further with each draw on his pipe. Perhaps he had startled Diana, or even frightened her. He had certainly not meant to do that. Maybe she sought the counsel of Lady Edenburgh before she took a decision.

  A movement in the dining room interrupted his reverie and he watched through the crack in the curtains as one of the housemaids tiptoed into the room, looking about herself surreptitiously. Intrigued, Simon stepped right up to the door to watch what she did.

  The housemaid picked up one of the large silver platters that this morning had contained fried eggs, and taking the edge of her apron, wiped it clean. Then, she held the platter over her head.

  Simon thought perhaps she had gone insane - he had certainly seen his fair share of insanity in the slums. He had expected the young woman to sequester the platter about her person, but this behavior was not that of a thief.

  No, wait a moment. She was not holding it over her head at all. She was holding it in such a way that she could see her reflection in it. Simon chuckled noiselessly. Ah, vanity, thy name is woman, he thought.

  Then he noticed the reflection and the chuckle froze in his throat.

  For the reflection was Diana.

  Chapter Twenty.

  It was wonderful to see her own face smiling back at her from the silver. She had been afraid that Fenella had been wrong, that she would still see the reflection of Annie when she looked, but this time at least, Fenella had been telling the truth. Diana gloried in her reflection for a moment, before she heard a tiny noise, and to her horror, saw in the reflected surface of the silver that someone was watching her from outside the dining room curtains. And when Simon swiftly entered the room from outside, Diana's nerve failed her and she fled.