The Counterfeit Lady_A Regency Romance
Page 24
She turned her head to the mantel where the painting rested between a china shepherdess and a porcelain vase. The two figures, Perpetua and Felicity, gazed imploringly into eternity, two victims of a repression as horrifying as the Terror. “Which one is it truly, Fox? Mama surely would have lied to Sir Richard.”
Fox went and took down the painting.
“Let’s find out.”
He tucked the painting under his arm, grasped her hand, and led her all the way upstairs to his bedchamber.
“Light that lamp and bring it here,” he said.
While she managed the lamp, he grabbed for his tools, flipped the painting over, and carefully worked the canvas free of the framing. “I left a mark. The tiniest of marks.”
“Because you were that good,” she teased.
He grinned up at her.
“How confident of you.”
He studied the edges, talking. He’d mimicked the colors and brush strokes. He knew Lopez de Arteaga’s work, knew the Seville school. He’d seen it once in Mexico, before coming to England. The patina was worn, but the painting had suffered rough handling, so it might still be his.
Finally, he set the painting down and shook his head. “It’s not my work.”
“It never was your work, Fox. Your work has far more—”
“It’s the real painting. It’s the original.”
Her heart fell. “She swapped them.” Perry swallowed hard. Oh, Mama.
She reached for the painting. The canvas felt heavy in her hands.
Perpetua, the glowing noblewoman, knelt looking heavenward, while her darker-skinned maid, Felicity, joined her in prayer from her place in the shadows. In the ultimate sacrifice, saintly, loyal, Felicity had refused freedom, had surrendered herself to the Roman persecution.
Mama couldn’t even give up this dark somber painting to save Father.
Or Fox.
She squeezed her eyes against the tears that welled. Fox had been trapped by his loyalty, by his love for her mother. He’d been used and almost killed by the French so many years ago, by Carvelle the month before, by Sir Richard today.
The painting slipped from her grip and his arms came around her.
Her heart pounded so fiercely, Fox could feel each beat, and her silent sobs rattled against him.
He’d accepted the likelihood of Lady Shaldon’s betrayal years ago. It was all too fresh for Perry, but she would sooner or later, forgive her mother.
Perry pushed away from him and wiped her eyes. “I’m so very sorry, Fox.” She sniffed and swiped at her nose. “How you must hate us.”
“No. Never.”
She sucked in a deep breath and winced.
“You need rest.” He glanced at the bed. Farnsworth had at least made it up.
He led her to the bed but she stopped, digging in her heels.
“Fox.” She took his hand and looked up at him. “I release you from any promises. I’m ashamed that I forced your hand after the comfort you gave me. It was wrong of me.” She shook her head. “You don’t want to marry. I won’t be that selfish.”
“You don’t want to marry me?”
“Oh.” She gasped. “More than anything.” She blinked out tears. “You’re right though. I don’t care about the ton, but I also want Father’s blessing.”
He dropped to his knees and her eyes widened. “Then, Perpetua Everly, will you marry me? I’m confident your father has already come to terms with the idea.”
“Oh,” she said again. “May we live here? Or…do you want to return to America?”
She would miss her family if they did. And, he…well, he’d been gone from his home almost half his life.
“Home will be where you are, Perry.” He got up, led her to the bed, and seated her there, then he pulled the knot loose on her belt. “Now are you going to say yes?”
“Oh.” She pushed him back and climbed upon him, and he was lost.
Epilogue
St. George’s Church, Hanover Square, Ten Days Later
On this warm July morning, Perry stepped out of a carriage on the hand of her eldest brother, Bink Gibson.
“You’ve still time to escape,” Bink whispered.
“She’s getting married.” Bakeley greeted them, dusting off his sleeve.
Since she and Fox had arrived in town, Bakeley had taken every opportunity to lecture her without mercy until Sirena took to following him around and tugging him away. Bakeley’s coronation duties, helping to lug around the King’s heavy train, had drained him, Sirena said, and Father’s escapade had raised new fear in him. He was in no hurry to become the Earl of Shaldon.
Father climbed out of another carriage, and Bink went to gather his brood.
“Lady Perpetua.” Father extended his arm. “You look lovely, my dear.”
They’d barely had a chance to speak after the events at Gorse Cottage. Father had left as soon as he could sit a horse to return for the coronation, and Perry and Fox had followed a couple of days later.
Sirena said the laudanum had scrambled Father’s brains a bit, for he was warmer, kinder. Or perhaps finally learning what happened to Mama—and what Mama had done—had changed him.
Or maybe he’d known all along about her switching the paintings. Betrayal was so common in his world.
“Bink,” she called. “Go and make sure Fox is there.”
He grinned and she turned back to the man at her side.
“Father, I want to know…everything.”
“Everything?”
“Yes. I mean, these last few years, the man after Paulina, then Sirena’s villainous cousin, and Gracie’s cousin, Lady Kingsley…was Sir Richard involved with all of them?”
“Perry—”
“Was he?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. He ran secrets, spies, back and forth, but much of what happens is compartmentalized. And these traitors worked each for his or her own personal gain.”
“Are there more, Father?”
He opened his mouth and then closed it.
“There are always more, aren’t there? But the war is over. Can you not step back and let someone else go after them?” She squeezed his arm. “I want to see you happy. And I want you to know my children.”
“And I suppose the first one will be coming along soon.”
“Father.” Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “I am marrying by license. It’s been only two weeks since I arrived at Gorse Cottage.”
“The groom says to hurry up,” Bink called.
“Very well,” Father said, “I shall think about stepping back, as you call it.”
He led her up the steps too quickly and through the door. Fox stood at the altar wearing new coats, making her smile. He looked magnificent and ridiculous, and wonderful.
The walk down the aisle went far too slowly, and the rest was a blur, but afterward, the vicar took them back to the register. Fox signed first, and she paused over the page.
Joseph Adams Dudley
Good heavens. The Dudleys she didn’t know about, but the Adams family included one American President and an ambassador to the Court of St. James.
And she wouldn’t be Perpetua Fox at all. She laughed out loud.
Fox raised an eyebrow at her.
“You couldn’t tell me this before?” she asked.
The Vicar cleared his throat. “My lady?”
Perry signed and walked out on the arm of her husband to rousing applause and a shower of grain.
“Where shall we go now, wife?” he asked.
“Home, husband. Wherever that may be.”
She raised her chin and let him kiss her, for all of the world to see.
Kincaid met Shaldon on the steps of the church and watched the newly married couple climb into their carriage and pull away.
“Well, then,” Shaldon said. “What news?”
Kincaid rubbed his jaw. “The painting is missing. And so is Lady Jane.”
The End
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A Note from the Author
Though Lady Perry isn’t a “son” of the Spy Lord, I thought she deserved her own story. I hope you’ve enjoyed it!
Writing this gave me the delightful opportunity to research smuggling during the era. There’s quite a bit of interesting information on the topic to be found in books and the internet. One good site to look into, if you’re interested, is “Smugglers’ Britain” (www.smuggling.co.uk).
I also had a great deal of fun researching American painters of the era, especially those who traveled abroad, and how to proof gin. As usual, my characters and story are entirely fictional, and any historical errors are mine alone.
Many thanks go to editor Tessa Shapcott, to cover designer Cami Brite, and a special shout-out to Frankie Reviews, a Yorkshire lass and Facebook friend who suggested the name “Gaz” for one of the characters.
As ever, I’m grateful to my husband for his unfailing support and enduring patience.
I love hearing from readers! You can contact and follow me on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and Goodreads, and at my website, AlinaKField.com. For special notices about sales and other news, please consider signing up for my newsletter at my website. I promise I won’t spam you or sell your email address!
Best regards and happy reading!
Alina K. Field
Also by Alina K. Field
Sons of the Spy Lord Series
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The Bastard’s Iberian Bride
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Falling—literally—into the arms of the ton’s most outrageous rogue seems a risky path of escape, but Maria Graciela Kingsley y Romero has no other choice. Only England’s greatest spy lord can help her, and he is not to be found—so his son will have to do!
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Rosalyn’n Ring
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When a young woman is put up for auction in a wife sale, Rosalyn Montagu seizes the chance to rescue her—and to recover a treasured family heirloom, her father’s signet ring. Her plans are thwarted by the newly anointed Viscount Cathmore who finds her provoking beauty, upper crust manner, and larcenous streak intriguing. Her secrets rouse his jaded heart, including the truth of her identity—she is the woman whose home he has usurped. But more mysteries swirl around Rosalyn’s past, and Cathmore is just the man to help her uncover the truth.
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Coming in Autumn 2018,
Book Five, Sons of the Spy Lord,
a reckoning for Lord Shaldon.
Find out more at AlinaKField.com