The Alter Ego: A Regency Romps Story (The Regency Romps Book 6)

by Elizabeth Bramwell

  “It would likely do him some good if they are half as pretty as you,” said the Dowager.

  “My sisters are far prettier than I,” replied Anna with perfect sincerity.

  “Good, it will help take his mind of that silly chit, Henrietta. Why that girl chose Cottingham, of all people – ah, but I digress. Write to your mother and tell her that, should she wish it, I will happily take three pretty girls under my wing and launch them into Bath society. Aye, and teach them some Hindustani while they are here!”

  “My Lady, you do not have to offer such a thing,” stammered Anna. “Surely you are joking?”

  “When you know me a little better, my girl, you will know that while I may be impulsive, I never joke.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured, not sure who would be more excited to have her sisters in Bath – herself, the girls, or her mother. “Hopefully I will be settled here by then, and they can reside with me in the city.”

  The Dowager waved her hand, indicating she was already bored by the topic. “Yes, we can set the details at a future time, but please will you stop looking at Arthur as though you are afraid he will fall into a decline at any moment?”

  Anna’s cheeks flamed as she forced herself to look away. “It is just that he has been so kind to us, I had no idea you were related, although I suppose I should have been, seeing as Miss Lindon is his cousin.”

  Lady Seraphinia snorted. “I suppose you think the family resemblance to be strong between them as well.”

  Anna frowned at that, and risked another glance at her new friends, her eyes lingering on Mr Arthur until he looked up, and flashed a kind smile in her direction.

  “Not at all, if I am honest,” she said, forcing herself to look away. “I would not have thought them related if they had not told me so.”

  “Hmm,” said the Dowager, looking her up and down. “You are more observant than most people, I will give you that. Now tell me what you think of the Pump Room; it is your first time here, is it not?”

  Anna obliged. She told the Dowager about how welcoming the Master of Ceremonies had been, and his promise to visit them once they were established in their new home. She had parted with a significant sum to ensure they were subscribed to all upcoming assemblies and concerts but had felt guilty when she learned it included the circulating library, for she was sure that Lady Philip would be hurt that she was not an exclusive member of Drake’s.

  The hustle and bustle of the Pump Room had taken both Anna and Lily by surprise when they first stepped into the main room, a fact that seemed to amuse Lady Seraphinia greatly. Anna had been entranced by the music played in the gallery above, where a group of five musicians, led by a trumpeter, played a merry tune. Her regard was not shared by the rest of the people in the Pump Room, however, who all talked loudly, pausing only to clap when any particular song ended.

  “You would think they would appreciate the music,” said Anna, glancing up at the gallery. “They really are excellent.”

  “Then you should host a musical evening when your establishment is set up,” replied Lady Seraphinia. “What else did you observe?”

  Anna considered this for a second before answering. The pump room was full of people dressed in very fine clothes, and there was enough golden braid on show to outfit an entire regiment of Hussars. Even though many different classes and trades were represented, as well as ages and levels of frailty, it seemed as though everyone had gone out of their way to look their best.

  “It is very fine,” concluded Anna, holding her head up in a way she hoped disguised how intimidated she was. “Do you drink the waters, my Lady?”

  “I do, although only so that Mortimer feels compelled to drink them as well,” said Lady Seraphinia, nodding to the General. “I’m as fit as a fiddle and in no need of the noxious stuff, but I own that they have greatly improved his health, and so I suffer for him.”

  “You must hold each other in high regard,” said Anna, wondering if she would have such steadfast friends if she lived to be Lady Seraphinia’s age.

  “I don’t hold him in the least bit of regard at all, but I have trained him to be an excellent cicisbeo over the years, and I am too old to bring in a new one,” the Dowager replied.

  Anna had the feeling that the General had overheard the entire exchange, for he turned around to throw her a saucy wink before returning his attention to Lily and Jane.

  “Arthur, I want you,” said Lady Seraphinia loudly. Mr Arthur turned from his conversation with Lily and Jane, and bowed deeply to Lady Seraphinia.

  “You called, most favourite of Aunts?”

  “Mrs Clyde has not tried the waters. Take her over to the fountain and see what she thinks.”

  “There’s no need to go to any trouble,” said Anna, but Mr Arthur was already offering her his arm.

  “No trouble at all, Mrs Clyde, for you will be rescuing me from the General’s story.”

  “It’s a good story!” blustered General Mortimer while Lily tried to stifle her giggles.

  “It was the first seven times you told it, Mortimer,” said the Dowager with a sigh. “Is this the one with the three ponies, or the one where you challenged Six String Jack to a duel on stilts after he held up your carriage?”

  Anna desperately wanted to hear the story of the notorious highwayman, but Mr Arthur was gently pulling on her arm. The opportunity to talk to him without the need to share the conversation with others was surprisingly appealing, so she allowed herself to be led towards the famous pump, complete with gaping copper fish and a woman handing out glasses full of the waters for people to consume.

  “I’ll make sure you get to hear the story soon,” said Mr Arthur, as though he was reading her mind. “I hope you don’t mind being forced to spend time in my poor company, but I long ago learned that it was best to obey Aunt Seraphinia’s commands promptly.”

  “I don’t think you are poor company at all, quite the opposite,” said Anna, and then realised at how forward that had probably sounded.

  “That’s the first time anyone has paid me such a compliment,” said Mr Arthur, his face beaming and laughter lurking in his eyes. “One would almost believe you wished to spend time with me.”

  “No, I mean yes, I mean I simply think that you are a pleasurable companion – Good God! That’s not at all what I meant!” she said desperately as he struggled to contain his laughter.

  “You are an absolute delight to spend time with, my dear Anna!” he said, and lazily flicked at her cheek with his free hand.

  Anna went bright red and turned away, wishing the floor of the Pump Room would crack open and swallow her whole.

  Mr Arthur stopped laughing.

  “My apologies, Mrs Clyde, I should not have taken such a liberty as to use your name without permission.”

  Anna blinked as she considered his words. She hadn’t even noticed if she were honest; it had seemed so natural for him to use her name.

  “There is no need to apologise, Mr Arthur. I… I rather like it, I think.”

  She spoke quietly, but he seemed to hear her.

  “I would like it very much if you just called me Arthur,” he told her.

  She cocked her head to one side. “Just Arthur?”

  “Yes, my given name,” he said with a smile.

  Anna hesitated. “I’m sorry, but are you saying your name is Arthur… Arthur?”

  He froze for a moment, his eyes going wide, and then coughed into his hand. “Yes. Well. My mother, you see.”

  “Your mother called you Arthur Arthur,” she said slowly, wondering what sort of woman had raised him.

  “She is something of an eccentric,” he said and coughed into his hand again. “Ah, here we are – let’s get you a glass of the waters, shall we?”

  Chapter Six

  “So, what did you think?” asked Arthur at the dinner table.

  He had joined Jane and Aunt Seraphinia for dinner, alongside the dowager’s longtime confidante, General Mortimer. As Jane had already info
rmed him that the General would know every detail of this conversation eventually anyway, he didn’t bother to be discreet.

  “I thought Miss Clyde an absolute treasure,” said Jane.

  “True, and won’t my sister and her friends be livid when she has her debut next Season?” chuckled Arthur, picturing the scene. “She’s charming, a diamond of the first water, and has a decent pedigree to boot. I predict that Herbert Filey and Lord Standish will be her most ardent admirers!”

  “She’s also rich,” said Lady Seraphinia. “It’s tied up in some way, but she’ll no doubt take the Ton by storm.”

  “How on earth did you find out she’s wealthy?” asked Arthur, but Jane rolled her eyes.

  “Good Lord, Arthur, she had poor Mrs Clyde all to herself on two separate occasions. I suspect our Aunt knows everything there is to know about your new friends, down to their preferences in stockings and buttons.”

  “Don’t be absurd, Jane,” said Lady Seraphinia, a strange look on her face. She drummed her fingers on the table, her gaze resting on Arthur in a way that made him want to check if he had gravy smeared all over his cheek.

  “Aye, my girl – Seraphinia doesn’t bother herself with such fripperies. Although I suspect she knows how much they are both worth as well!” laughed the General.

  Aunt Seraphinia looked irritated, but as her eyes met those of her oldest friend and they softened, becoming almost sheepish. “I estimate the girl to be worth a cool £4000 a year.”

  The General let out a whistle. “Then she will be hunted from coast to coast, I have no doubt.”

  “And that’s without anything her stepmother gifts or leaves to her,” said Aunt Seraphinia, “assuming she doesn’t remarry, of course. It seems her husband was quite an enlightened man when it came to making sure that his womenfolk would be independent following his death.”

  Arthur considered this information in silence as he tucked into a slice of roasted duck.

  “A striking young woman like that? I predict she’ll receive offers before the daughter,” said the General before picking up a napkin to wipe gravy from his beard.

  “You’re assuming she will find someone that she wants to marry,” said Jane. “Many of us have standards, you know.”

  “There are some issues around her sudden marriage to Matthew Clyde,” said Aunt Seraphinia, “that may cause trouble if we don’t nip it in the bud.”

  “Perhaps he was in love,” said Arthur.

  “No, he used all that up on his first wife. Besides, he knew he had consumption when he married this girl, so this was pure convenience for them both. Her brother-in-law told me all about it when the wedding was announced, of course. There were some nasty rumours that the girl was born out of wedlock, although her parents did the best to squash them. Not all of the Clydes were happy about Matthew’s marrying her, probably worried that she’d have a son, but Sir Desmond was supportive of his brother’s choice, despite her questionable birth.”

  “Good Lord, is she illegitimate then?” asked the General.

  “Probably not,” said Aunt Seraphinia, “it depends on the legitimacy of her parent’s marriage in India. Unfortunately, they caved to his family’s insistence when they came back to England and married again at the local Church. Naturally, that provided all kinds of gossip for the locals, considering Anna was a baby in the arms of her mother at the time.”

  “Does it really matter?” said Arthur, feeling defensive although he was not entirely sure why.

  “It matters if I decide it does,” said Aunt Seraphinia. She returned her attention to her plate, where she stabbed at a thinly sliced potato with a considerable degree of force.

  “Our Aunt does not like to be caught off guard,” said Jane, trying to communicate something more profound to Arthur with her eyes, although he could not fathom what.

  The General chuckled. “The Rothman incident, for example?”

  Arthur watched in amazement as his Aunt’s cheeks flamed red just a moment before she turned her dagger gaze onto her old friend.

  “We agreed that was never to be discussed again, Mortimer,” she said in a quiet voice that was heavy with promised malice.

  The General raised his eyebrows. “Are you threatening me, Phinnie? Because I’ve been on the receiving end of your larks too many times to be scared.”

  Arthur watched, fascinated, as anger and mirth warred for supremacy in his Aunt’s face. He almost jumped out of his chair with shock when she suddenly launched a butter knife at the General, narrowly missing his fingers.

  The General did not so much as flinch. He grinned widely. “You missed.”

  “On the contrary, it landed exactly where I intended it to, you fiend,” she replied.

  Arthur, his eyes wide, looked around the table for help, but his Aunt and the General appeared to be sharing a private joke, while Jane continued to eat as though nothing unusual had happened. To be fair, if he’d been pressed on the matter it would have been difficult for Arthur to explain what had shocked him more; his elderly relative launching a weapon at a dinner guest or the fact that she had not killed him for calling her Phinnie.

  “Crackers,” he muttered to himself.

  “Do they have your approval then, Aunt Seraphinia?” said Jane as though nothing untoward had happened.

  “I believe so,” said Aunt Seraphinia with a small shrug, “the girl will have no trouble becoming the toast of the Ton, and I suspect that Mrs Clyde will be popular as well, with a bit of support.”

  “Are there many eligible gentlemen in town, though?” said Jane, pausing as though in thought. “I know his Grace made quite an impression on them.”

  “Devenish is a cad with no intention of being leg-shackled,” muttered Arthur at his dinner plate, but no one seemed to pay him the least heed.

  “There are a number of Misters who would not make a contemptible match,” said Aunt Seraphinia, “but I believe that the stepmother only wants the opportunity for the girl to practice her Society Manners. Of course, it would not hurt their chances in London should there be some rumours about their beauty before next Season. We shall have to see about having a small party soon, Jane. No more than ten couples, I would say, with a few young men who are not opposed to charming young ladies, and perhaps getting up a dance.”

  Jane smiled. “I shall see to it first thing tomorrow, Aunt Seraphinia.”

  “I hope some of us old dears are welcome as well, Phinnie,” said the General. “I would quite enjoy a turn about the floor with Mrs Clyde. Her dark eyes have quite captivated me; remind me of my days in India.”

  “I believe Anna has no thoughts of attracting suitors of any age,” said Arthur before he could help it. The General seemed bemused, Aunt Seraphinia rolled her eyes, and Jane threw a questioning glance his way.

  “Ah, but she has not been charmed by a true gentleman like myself,” said the General.

  Aunt Seraphinia muttered something to herself and picked up her wineglass.

  “And what are you implying I am?” asked Arthur, setting his knife and fork back upon the table.

  The General looked Arthur up and down. “No need to take offence, my dear boy. No one is accusing you of acting like a buffoon, but when it comes to your attire… well, you’re not exactly up to the rig, if you will forgive an old man his bluntness.”

  Before he could deliver a hotly worded defence of his position on London Society, Jane kicked him hard under the table.

  “My cousin might look like a country bumpkin, General, but do not let it fool you. He dresses so by choice to upset the more frippery members of the Ton,” she said, glaring at Arthur rather than looking at their elderly dining companion.

  Aunt Seraphinia was taking a long drink from her glass of wine.

  “I’m sure they are all mortally wounded,” said the General, his mouth twisted in dismay as he surveyed the travesty of a neckcloth Arthur had gleefully wound about his neck before coming to dinner.

  “I for one plan to pursue the acquaintance
with the Clyde women,” he said, choosing to pretend that the brief exchange with the General had not occurred. “It was a serendipitous event that led to me meeting them, and I believe strongly that such good fortune as interesting friends should always be pursued.”

  The general barked out a laugh. “Like the gal, do you?”

  “I find both refreshing,” he replied in what he hoped was a neutral voice, but the smirks from the others forced him to return his attention to his plate.

  “I told Mrs Clyde that we would take them out for a turn in our carriage,” said Aunt Seraphinia as she held out her glass for the footman to refill. “Jane, don’t gawp like that. It makes you look common.”

  “I thought you regarded all travel outside of the city limits to be an odious chore,” said Arthur.

  Aunt Seraphinia sighed. “It will be, but one must make sacrifices for the greater good, I suppose. And besides, Jane pointed out only a few days ago that I was bored.”

  Jane dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “I knew this would end up being my fault somehow.”

  “Naturally it is your fault, my dear. The only reason you were sent to live with me was to prevent me from doing anything to embarrass the relatives. Ergo, anything I do that distresses them must be laid at your door. Wasn’t that what my daughter-in-law stated?”

  Jane opened her eyes wide. “Do you mean to say that you agree with something that Lady Harden said, Aunt Seraphinia?”

  The good humour vanished from their Aunt’s eyes.

  “Stuff and nonsense,” she declared and set her wineglass back down with such force that some slopped out of the glass. Jane held the napkin across her face in a vain attempt to disguise her laughter.

  Arthur shook his head. “I’ll say this for you, my relatives. You certainly know how to keep a man entertained.”

  “That they do, my boy,” laughed the General. “That they do.”

  *

  “I am so glad that we met Mr Arthur again, but I do not think I shall ever forgive him for what he has done to his hair,” said Lily, her curls bouncing as she shook her head in dismay.