A Duke in Disguise (Westham Chronicles Book 3)
Page 2
“All the more reason to consider it!” Samuel said, with a groan. He spied a young lady of his acquaintance in the distance walking with her Mama and acknowledged her wave with a slight nod of the head. “Come, Edward, let’s move on before we invite company.”
Both gentlemen rose wearily and began slow progress around the park as they discussed their plan in greater detail. Samuel grew more and more excited at the thought of it. He would enjoy a holiday from himself, a chance to take a rest from the role of Duke of Edgmont and enjoy all the freedom of being a gentleman without such a title. I dare say it will do Edward good to see that being a duke is not all play and praise as well, he thought, listening to his friend list off his considerations for their trade. Edward was quite convinced that everything came easily to the handsome, wealthy duke and Samuel would be pleased to see him proved wrong. No amount of explanation could truly capture his weariness at conforming to society’s high expectation and the loneliness he felt at forever being a target of marriage-hunters intent only on securing a claim on his title and fortune. I do not know when I last met a young lady who cared to know the man behind the title. Perhaps it was pride that made him wish to, but he could not help but dream, one day, of experiencing the type of love story his Mama and Papa had had. They had both died young, in quite quick succession which was a blessing for them, that neither one had to live long without the other, but for Samuel, it had been a double blow, one he still had not quite recovered from, though it be quite some years later.
“I know why I should enjoy such a scheme - for it will be fun to eschew my responsibilities for a time and go about precisely as I please.” Another thought occurred to him and he voiced it almost immediately without stopping to consider the implications. “I should like to meet people as I am and see what it is to make friends for myself and not my title.”
“And I should appreciate the alternative!” Edward said, with a self-deprecating sigh. “For me, ‘tis impossible to get any young lady to notice me at all. If they know I have a title, well, that might win me half the battle.” He punched Samuel lightly on the shoulder. “We cannot all be blessed with good looks and good fortune, Edgmont. Some of us must work twice as hard to have half as much success...”
He sighed.
“I did not realise you found it so very difficult to court young ladies. I have never seen you alone for too long!” Samuel teased his friend, who he feared was growing melancholy without cause. “You speak as if you are invisible to the fairer sex, which I know for a fact to be untrue. What of Miss Lewis?”
“Wed.” Edward shrugged his shoulders. “To the son of an earl who will one day inherit. How could I begin to compete with such a prospect?”
Genuine hurt flashed in his blue eyes and Samuel felt a wave of sympathy well up at his friend’s predicament. He blamed his lack of title for Miss Lewis’s choosing another: and who was he to say but that was not the case? Young ladies could be mercenary. Was that not the very reason he wished to escape the title his friend envied him? I should like a lady to love me for me and not my title and I wager freedom from it for a short while would make that possible. At least, I should enjoy the opportunity to try.
“We might travel there together, then, to Bath,” he suggested, as they drew close to the gates of the park. “And leave London as ourselves, before exchanging identities somewhere along the road and arriving as one another.” He grinned. “Let us see how easy it is to persuade the inhabitants of Bath that we are who we claim and you may see, my dear Nicholls, that life as a duke is not quite all you imagine it to be.”
Edward arched his eyebrows as if he did not believe his friend.
“I wager you will wish to trade back long before I do, Edgmont.”
“Oh, indeed?” Samuel’s eyes lit up. “A wager, you say? Well, then, let us talk terms...”
“The terms shall be thus,” Edward began, speaking with such fluency that belied his earlier indifference. He had been examining the idea from all angles, Samuel thought, but as he had no patience for details he allowed his friend to continue, dictating the rules they ought to abide by for the duration of their scheme.
“We shall remain incognito for the duration of our time in Bath, making introductions and forming acquaintances as if we were the other. If our paths should cross with someone who knows us - our true identities - we must bluff it out as best we can, or fold the lot and confess. If we laugh and call it a joke I’m persuaded whoever we meet will not rumble us, and we might go along quite happily including them in the deception.”
“And who shall be declared victor?” Sam asked, a smile tugging at his lips. “Whoever successfully deceives the most people?”
“Whoever holds the lie longest,” Edward said, his eyes glittering strangely. “Whoever folds and confesses the truth first, will forfeit. I assure you, Edgmont, it shall not be me!”
“Oh, indeed!” Samuel laughed. The idea was nonsense and he ought to put a stop to it before it began, but he could not help but feel strangely enthused by the opportunity to play at being someone else for a while. Invisible, irresponsible Edward Nicholls might be just what the doctor ordered to undo his malaise and restore the sensible, serious Duke of Edgmont to himself.
“I DO NOT UNDERSTAND how anybody can think such an experience is beneficial!”
Edith and Joanna were sitting in the cramped parlour of the rooms in Bath that Edith’s mother had secured for them, discussing at length their failed attempt at bathing earlier that day. Mrs Barnes had been so rapturous about the health-giving properties of submerging oneself entirely in the baths, rather than merely drinking the water, that she had persuaded the two girls to join her in her daily ablutions that morning. Whilst Joanna had somewhat enjoyed the feel of the water, she had not been so very fond of the crowded baths, nor of the crowds of onlookers in the higher galleries. She had been only too pleased when Edith could bear it no longer and insisted to her Mama that she and Joanna would return home and leave her to her healthful pursuits unaccompanied. That had been over an hour ago and still, Edith could scarcely pass a moment without recalling how uncomfortable she had found the experience.
“I can only imagine that the fuss of entering and leaving the bath undoes any benefit one gains by being in there. Why Mama cannot content herself with merely drinking the waters as most do, I cannot imagine.”
Here, Joanna saw an opportunity to steer their conversation in an altogether better direction and she seized upon it.
“Perhaps we might pay a visit to the pump rooms this afternoon, Edith, even if your mother is otherwise engaged. I certainly do not wish to waste an opportunity to explore them, simply because we did not find bathing to our liking.” She used “our” to set her friend at ease, although Joanna had been somewhat ambivalent about the whole experience. She felt no lasting increase in vitality but supposed it was more likely that its effects were cumulative. We shall never know! she thought, stifling a smile at Edith’s ongoing and increasing hatred for the notion of trying the baths ever again during their stay. The pump rooms, however, she was rather more amenable to and said so, immediately.
“Oh, now there is an idea! Certainly, we must! Mama has not arranged for us to come all this way simply to stay at home.”
Her countenance grew sunny with the possibility of a trip out and the chance to visit the one place she had been eager to visit most of all since their first arrival in Bath. Joanna decided to encourage this spirit of enthusiasm by standing.
“Why don’t we go now? There is no reason for us to delay any longer, and who knows but that we might see somebody we know there.”
“Or meet somebody new!” Edith’s eyes flashed with mischief. “Indeed, Joanna, I think you are quite right with your idea. Let’s go at once before we find some other reason to delay.” She glanced down at her dress. “But, oh dear! Do you think I am suitable for the pump rooms?”
“You are lovely, as ever!” Joanna reassured her. “And that lace is very fetching.”
“Dear me!” she laughed. “I had no notion of the place being so busy!”
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Edith’s eyes shone. “Why, there are ever so many people here! Have you ever seen so many? Look - there is an admiral, I can tell from his epaulettes.”
Joanna was not sure that her friend was quite the naval expert she claimed to be, but she was too excited and happy to counter her assertion now, turning wide-eyed in all directions and marvelling at the variety of people she saw. Everyone was talking enthusiastically together, drinking the waters and nibbling daintily on small biscuits with a pattern stamped on them. The dresses alone were a source of delight to her for having lived mostly at home Joanna had an interest for fashion that was largely unmet in her small circle and whilst everyone she knew took care over their appearance the sheer abundance of colours and styles on display here made her heart soar.
“We must seek out the haberdasher’s while we are here,” she told her friend, admiring an older lady’s turban, complete with a very large, very extravagant ostrich feather. Joanna conjured up an image in her mind of what her own dark head might look like with such an adornment and made a mental note to acquire one, somehow. That would surely be enough to distinguish her markedly from her peers at the next Westham assembly.
The crowds parted, allowing a path to the spring and Edith tugged Joanna along with her, thrusting a cup of spa water at her friend. Sniffing dubiously, Joanna took a sip, struggling to swallow the bitter, lukewarm liquid.
“Oh, how horrid!” Edith exclaimed, barely succeeding in not spitting hers back out. “I do not see how anybody can drink this, either!”
Her friend’s voice was not loud and yet somehow it carried so that a few of their near-neighbours turned to look in their direction.
“Let’s leave our cups,” Joanna advised, seeking a corner of a table just large enough for them to deposit the two glasses down and stride quickly away, speedily putting a little distance between the water and themselves. She spied the baker selling biscuits and left her friend just long enough to go and purchase two, and was on her way back to rejoin Edith when an amiable laugh caught her ear. Turning, she saw a gentleman balancing a biscuit in one hand and a cup in his other.
“I see you have found the remedy to the waters,” he remarked, nodding towards her prize. “It is not the most palatable of drinks.”
Joanna coloured, wondering if everybody present had witnessed her and Edith’s failed attempt to drink. She tried to conjure up a response but before the words formed in her mind, the gentleman straightened, his eye resting on somebody behind her who he greeted with a smile.
“Excuse me,” he said, bowing lightly and stepping past her.
Joanna’s mouth opened at last to form a polite farewell, but the gentleman had vanished, disappearing into the crowd and leaving Joanna faintly disappointed that they had not been afforded a moment to become acquainted. His laugh had really been very amiable, and she had liked the light in his eyes as if the two of them were sharing a joke. Swallowing her disappointment, she continued her journey back to her friend and thrust one of the two biscuits into Edith’s hand. They continued to survey the crowd and although Joanna did not say as much her eyes sought out a particular tall, dark-haired figure with kind eyes and a bright, merry smile who was sadly nowhere to be found.
Chapter Three
Samuel took a bite of his biscuit, swallowing it down with a less-than-refreshing sip of the pump room water and turning to survey the crowd. Having spied Edward standing alone, he had hurried to join him but in the moment or two it had taken him to weave through the crowd, his friend had been drawn into conversation with an extravagantly-preserved Member of Parliament, who had been ordered to Bath by his physician in order to take advantage of its rejuvenating waters. Samuel took another sip and grimaced, wondering how anything truly “healthy” could taste so bitter.
Perhaps there is a limit to one’s consumption, he thought. He and Edward had been resident at the pump rooms for quite some time, and, lacking his usual array of companions to speak to, Samuel had found himself returning more than once to the spring, if only to occupy himself. How strange it was that the mere sacrifice of one’s name and eschewing his usual fashion for an outfit a few years old and a little ill-kept provided him with an entirely different outlook on life. It was not so very bad, for people still spoke to him, and indeed he felt a niggling suspicion that he had caught the eye of more than one doting matriarch, who sought to find husbands for their wallflower daughters, but none of those young ladies had caught his eye in turn. He finished his biscuit in one bite and turned back to survey the crowd once more. He had stopped to speak to the first young lady who had interested him after he’d witnessed her and her friend’s very natural and quite charming reaction to the bitter water and her good sense and quick thinking in disposing of the evidence. His keen eyes spotted her at once, standing close to the young lady who must be her friend.
Turning his attention back to his own friend, Samuel satisfied himself that the “duke” was managing the interaction well enough and was not in need of his intervention. He sauntered carefully over to the two young ladies, pausing once or twice en route to greet a new acquaintance as he passed them. All of his acquaintances in Bath were new, for which fact he supposed he must be grateful, as it permitted Edward and him to continue with their deception. They had not been underway long enough, he supposed, to decide which was enjoying the switch more, but he felt certain that all of Edward’s claims about the enjoyment Samuel must feel at merely being alive and existing as the Duke of Edgemont were being found wanting. Scarcely a day passed when they did not meet some elevated member of society who wished to be made known to the duke, or who would take up all his time in talking of dull matters pertinent to a life of significance. Samuel’s lips curved into a smile. He was more than happy to surrender his responsibilities for a few days and to open his friend’s eyes to the fact that whilst his position afforded him a great many luxuries and delights, it was not without its sacrifices. Such as being forced to discuss government at length with a droning bore when one might otherwise be permitted to converse as one chooses, with whomever one chooses!
“...anyway, I suppose it was rather short-sighted of us to come without Mama on our very first visit. She would know where we ought to go. What a pity neither of us has a memory for directions! We could ask someone, I suppose.”
The young lady who Samuel had met frowned dubiously as her friend continued on.
“However are we to make acquaintances without Mama to introduce us? Do you suppose it would be dreadfully forward to introduce ourselves?”
“Dreadfully forward!”
Samuel could not resist the urge to join their conversation and won two wide-eyed, horrified looks for his remark. “Shall I save you the trouble? Ladies, my name is Mr Edward Nicholls. I gather you are newly arrived in Bath. As someone who has been here at least, oh, two days longer, perhaps I might be of some assistance?”
Both ladies stared at him in silence for a moment and he lowered his voice to a companionable whisper.
“This would
go along much more easily if I were permitted to know your names. Miss...?” He arched an eyebrow at the young lady whose path he had crossed moments earlier. They had spoken a word or two and neither of them seemed any worse the wear for it. Surely that was proof enough that he might be trusted.
“Devereaux,” she blurted out at last. Her friend turned one horrified, wide-eyed stare from Samuel to her. “I am Miss Joanna Devereaux.”
“Devereuax?” Samuel mused. “Then you must be sister to -” He stopped himself just in time, rearranging his features into a smile. “Never mind.”
“Are you acquainted with my brother?” She had not missed his mistake and fixed him with an impenetrable stare. Those knowing brown eyes were not unlike the pair her brother, Sir Benjamin Devereaux, possessed and Samuel saw more than a passing likeness between his old acquaintance and the pretty young lady before him. They shared the same determined chin and the same high cheekbones, but her eyes sparkled with rather more fun than her brother’s. He was but a little acquainted with Sir Benjamin and had found him quite staid and serious compared to his usual choice of companion. There was a shadow that had haunted Devereaux around London and he wondered that this sister had avoided whatever it was that caused it.
“We have met,” Samuel equivocated, turning his attention to her friend in order to alter the course of their conversation before the depth of his acquaintance with Sir Benjamin Devereaux was put too much to the test. Another thought occurred to him and he swallowed before voicing it. What if Miss Deveraux’s brother had accompanied her to Bath? They might be but a little personally acquainted, but he certainly knew who Edward Nicholls was, or more to the point who he was not. That will put an end to our scheme before it has even really begun! Samuel thought, with a sigh.