by Merry Farmer
Ellie’s stomach twisted as they marched down the hallway that ran almost the full length of the house and saw Mr. Poole heading toward them.
“They’re still at breakfast, my lord,” Mr. Poole said to Henry without preamble, as if he knew what Henry was after and how much urgency was involved.
Henry nodded to the butler, the fire of determination in his eyes. Suddenly, a thrill of excited expectation surpassed the anxiety Ellie had been feeling. Henry was like a hound who had the scent of blood, and, Lord help her, the coming confrontation might just be fun.
She tightened her grip on Henry’s hand as they approached the breakfast room. Lady Howsden’s voice drifted around the corner, somehow reassuring her. She knew that Henry would support her without question, but there was an outside chance that Lady Howsden might stand up for her too. There was no way to know until the moment was upon them.
They rounded the corner and burst into the room.
“Henry! Oh, thank heavens,” Lady Howsden said, so relieved she closed her eyes for a moment as tension visibly drained out of her. “We were so worried about you. Helena, my dear.”
The reactions of others at the table were not as positive. Lord Reese smiled and let out a breath, but Lord Howsden scowled, his face going red, his hands clenching into fists around his silver utensils. So-called Princess Olympia remained almost perfectly still, the only hint of her emotions appearing in a slight widening of her eyes.
That was all the reaction she had time for before Henry came to a stop near the head of the table and said, “Mother, I am very sorry to report that we have an imposter in our midst.”
Olympia’s mouth twitched into a triumphant grin, and she straightened in her chair, her chin going up.
“That woman is no more a princess than Lucy down in the buttery,” Henry said, throwing out an arm to point at Olympia.
For a moment, it was as though someone had fired a revolver into the air. Lady Howsden froze, her mouth half open. Lord Howsden turned even redder. Lord Reese looked alternately relieved and outraged.
Olympia was the first to recover. “How dare you?” she demanded, sitting even straighter and glaring at Henry. “I have never been so insulted in my life.”
“I seriously doubt that,” Henry went on, “considering the reputation that actresses have.”
“Henry, what are you talking about?” Lady Howsden asked, her voice wavering.
“Stop this nonsense at once,” Lord Howsden said, standing. His chair nearly fell over as he did. “I will not have you insulting Princess Olympia in this manner.”
“The insult is on you, Father.” Henry faced his father directly for the first time since they’d entered the room. “This woman has pulled the wool over your eyes and made a fool of you. She’s nothing more than a fortune-hunting harpy.”
Olympia shrieked in insult, her face turning a bright shade of pink, her eyes taking on the quality of a cornered, feral cat.
“I knew something wasn’t right,” Lord Reese said, throwing the napkin he’d just used onto the table. “I demand you explain yourself.”
“It is a lie.” Olympia scrambled. “A vicious, baseless lie, no doubt created by that scheming whore.”
Lady Howsden sucked in an audible breath and clapped a hand to her chest as though she might faint.
“Who are your people?” Henry demanded of Olympia. “What is your family lineage? The name of the estate where you were raised? The position your father held in the Prussian court?”
“This is preposterous,” Lord Howsden thundered. “Henry, apologize to Princess Olympia at once.”
“My people are the von Cleves of the Rhineland,” Olympia fired off, as if she’d studied the lines in advance. “The family line extends back through centuries, including the wife of your King Henry VIII. I was raised at Neichen Wald in Westphalia. And my father was an advisor to Emperor Wilhelm.”
Ellie’s heart sank. Of course Olympia would have answers to those questions, and probably more.
More was exactly what Henry threw at her. “What rank did your father hold in the army? Who was your mother’s family? What theater did you work at in Hamburg?”
“My father was a decorated general who fought with distinction. My mother was a member of the house of Saxe-Lauenburg. I topped the bill at the Thailia Theater in—” She gasped, slapping a hand to her mouth.
Henry turned to his father in victory. “Do you see?”
Lord Howsden faltered. “That means nothing. You were badgering the poor woman. Anyone would become confused under that barrage.”
“Her maid, Greta.” Ellie spoke up. “She knows the truth.”
Henry nodded to her, then pivoted to speak to Mr. Poole, who stood in the doorway behind them. “Fetch this woman’s maid, please, Mr. Poole.”
“Right away, my lord.” Mr. Poole bowed, attempting to hide a grin, and turned to do as he’d been asked.
Olympia’s eyes widened even more. “This proves nothing. That silly maid of mine is prone to fantasy, just like this one.” She flung her arm out at Ellie. “She’s the one you should be worried about. She’s the imposter. She’s nothing but a common whore from America.”
Lord Howsden leaned his arms on the table, looking like a horrible version of Howard Haskell running a meeting of Haskell’s town council. “Will someone please explain what is going on here?” he asked through clenched teeth, a vein in his forehead standing out.
“That woman is a whore, intent on destroying your family,” Olympia said, standing.
Lady Howsden swallowed a wail.
“I won’t have you insulting my brother’s fiancée that way.” Lord Reese joined the fight.
Ellie was grateful to him. Her confidence grew as she realized she had another ally, one she hadn’t expected.
“It’s true,” she said. The room grew silent in an instant. Lady Howsden looked stricken. Lord Howsden’s anger continued to expand. “I was a whore. At the time, I had no choice.”
“But…but your father is a prominent industrialist,” Lady Howsden said, appealing to Ellie to confirm that it was true. “You were raised with everything you could possibly want.”
Ellie cringed. She glanced to Henry, grateful he was still holding her hand. Henry reassured her with a look, then said, “It’s my fault, Mother.”
“What is your fault?” Lord Howsden snapped.
Henry heaved a sigh, but Ellie spoke before he could explain. “I’m not Miss Helena Mortimer,” she said, meeting Lady Howsden’s eyes. It would be easier to come clean if she could trick herself into thinking she was explaining to Henry’s mother alone. “My name is Ellie Braun. I was supposed to serve as a lady’s maid for Miss Mortimer, but at the end of our Atlantic crossing, she decided that she’d rather run off with one of the ship’s porters, who she fancied herself in love with, than marry Henry.”
“It was my idea for Ellie to come here and impersonate Miss Mortimer,” Henry picked up where she left off.
“But why?” Lady Howsden asked, blinking fast. Ellie couldn’t tell if she was fighting back tears or if she was confused beyond all reckoning.
Henry turned to his father. “I suggested the ruse as a way to make a fool out of the man who thought nothing of selling his sons into marriages they didn’t want for the sake of his own gain.”
“What?” Lord Howsden snapped. He dropped heavily back into his chair, his hands shaking as he gripped the arms.
“I thought it would be jolly good fun to tweak your nose by bringing a woman of Ellie’s background into your house, watching you fawn over her and celebrate her. But I guess in the end, your ability to pick the very worst brides was your own undoing.” He let out a breath, his shoulders dropping in shame, and turned to Ellie. “This deception was a terrible thing for me to do. More terrible because the woman I sought to use as a pawn in my own game turned out to be the loveliest, most intelligent and tender-hearted woman I’ve ever met. I love her.”
It was Ellie’s turn to blink fast
in order to hold back her tears. “I love you too, Henry,” she said, amazed that she could be so happy in such a bizarre moment.
“But…you’re not….” Lady Howsden couldn’t finish her question. She glanced across the table to Henry and Ellie with a mix of grief and perplexity, one hand still held over her heart. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s easy,” Henry said. He smiled at Ellie with a fondness that could warm the entire house on a cold day. “I love Ellie. No matter who she is. And if she’ll have me, I want to marry her.”
Ellie opened her mouth to tell Henry how much she loved him and to accept his proposal, but Lord Howsden bellowed, “I forbid it! I absolutely forbid it.” Everyone turned to him. Lady Howsden looked alarmed. “I forbid you to marry this self-proclaimed whore,” Lord Howsden went on. “No son of mine will debase himself so completely.”
“The only way I would be debasing myself would be if I married someone I didn’t know and didn’t care about for money that I will never see,” Henry fired back. “Especially when my heart so fully and completely belongs to another.”
“Bravo!” Lady Howsden shouted, drawing all eyes in the room to her. Ellie gaped at the woman. Lord Howsden glowered. Henry and Lord Reese seemed shocked down to the soles of their feet. Even Olympia stared at the woman. “Bravo,” Lady Howsden repeated. She turned a fierce glare on her husband. “I was against both of these marriages from the start. I do not want to see my boys trapped in marriages as unhappy as the one I am prisoner to.” Her voice shook with grief. “And while Ellie is…is not what I would have imagined for a daughter-in-law, I believe she is a good, kind, sweet woman.”
“She’s a whore,” Olympia protested. “And you’re a blind fool for toadying to her the way you have.”
“Would you have preferred my mother make a fool of herself by bowing and scraping to you? A deceitful actress?” Lord Reese demanded.
“I am not—”
No one payed attention to Olympia’s attempt at an answer. At that moment, Mr. Poole returned to the breakfast room, dragging Greta in his wake. The Howsden’s maid, Daisy, followed, carrying a flat, wooden box and wearing a triumphant grin. The moment Olympia saw Greta—or perhaps the box—she let out a strangled groan and sank back in her chair.
Ellie melted in relief. It was over. Olympia knew her game was up. It was almost anticlimactic when Mr. Poole said, “We found the maid, Greta, drinking a bottle of wine pilfered from your stores, my lord, and eating chocolates that were a gift to you from Lady Mountbatten, my lady.”
“Oh dear.” Lady Howsden wilted.
Behind a swaying Greta, Daisy held up the box.
“And this collection of letters and theatrical paraphernalia was found in…Miss Olympia’s room, my lord,” Mr. Poole went on. He took the box from Daisy. “I believe they are unmistakable.”
A different kind of hush fell over the room. Instead of the desperate expectation that had followed Ellie’s revelation, as Lord Reese and Lady Howsden both added their silent hopes to her defense, no one so much as looked at Olympia. It was clear in an instant that the house of sand she’d built her deception on had washed out from under her. She didn’t say a word, she just buried her face in her hands, as if she could block it all out.
“Get out,” Lord Howsden said. It was a low growl at first, but when nobody moved, he raised his voice. “Get out,” he ordered Olympia, pushing himself to his feet once more, shaking with wrath. “Get out!”
His final shout was so loud that Olympia flinched in her chair. She shot to her feet, horror and bitterness in her eyes, and ran for the doorway. She spared only a brief, furious glance at Greta as she picked up her skirts and bolted. Greta followed. Neither gave so much as a backward glance to Ellie or any of the Howsdens.
But before Ellie could sigh in relief or smile, Lord Howsden shouted again, at her, “Get out of my house this instant, you thieving, scheming harlot!”
Ellie jumped, but Henry tightened his grip on her hand, sending a silent message for her to stay right where she was, by his side.
“I will not have you speak to the woman I intend to marry in that manner, Father,” Henry said, doing an amazing job of keeping a cool head. He stared straight at his red-faced, quivering father with determination.
“You will not marry a whore,” Lord Howsden shouted. “I forbid it.”
“You cannot stop me from marrying whomever I choose.” Henry grew in confidence by the moment. “There is no law that would support you in forbidding me. I am of age, and I will marry whom I please.”
Lord Reese grinned, his eyes shining with pride in his brother. “As will I,” he added. “So you can forget about finding me another princess.”
Lady Howsden made a sound and held her hands to her mouth, but rather than seeming grieved or upset, she glowed with warmth as she looked at her sons.
“You will marry whomever is best for this estate, for this family,” Lord Howsden demanded, his voice going hoarse.
“They will do as they please,” Lady Howsden declared, so strongly that tears of sympathy came to Ellie’s eyes.
“Thank you, my lady,” she said, needing to come to Lady Howsden’s aid the way she appeared to be coming to Ellie’s. “And well done.”
Lady Howsden broke into tears at last. “I will be proud to have you as a daughter-in-law,” she managed through an emotion-filled gasp.
“I still forbid it,” Lord Howsden shouted. He glared at Henry. “If you marry this…this woman, you will no longer be my son. You will leave this house, never to return, and you will not see a penny of my money, now or ever.”
“Then I suppose I should pack,” Henry said, as calm as ever, sending Ellie a fond grin. “We’ll need to leave for America as soon as possible.”
“America?” Lady Howsden clasped her hands over her heart as tears streamed down her face.
“Yes, Mother.” At last, Henry sounded regretful. “Ellie is homesick. She wants to return to her hometown in Wyoming. Wherever Ellie goes, I will go.” He paused, a rakish grin spreading across his lips. “I think I’ll make an excellent cowboy. Don’t you?”
Ellie laughed.
Lord Howsden looked as though he were about to launch off on another tear, but Lord Reese stood, cutting him off.
“I should pack as well,” he said, staring his father down with a ferocity that Ellie hadn’t seen in him. “I’ll be staying at my London residence from now on.” He turned to Lady Howsden. “Mother, you are more than welcome to take up accommodations with me to escape this misery.”
“And you can come to Haskell to visit us whenever you want,” Ellie added. “We’d be delighted to have you.” She paused, glancing to Henry. “Wherever we end up living.”
Lord Howsden was still red and shaking, but now he seemed beyond words.
Lady Howsden drew in a breath, suddenly seeming calmer and downright regal. “No, dear Reese. I cannot come stay with you. Yet. And my dear Ellie, and Henry, you cannot leave for America right away. We have a wedding to plan. And while it may not be the stuff of society legend, I pledge to you to make it the most beautiful and heartfelt celebration that I can manage.”
Ellie wanted to run around the table to hug her soon-to-be-mother-in-law. Never in all her life would she have imagined that such a fine woman could be her family. Her heart had never been fuller.
“This is….” Lord Howsden didn’t finish his sentence. He pushed back from the table and stormed from the room, looking as though he would either march off and start a war or die of a heart attack before he made it down the hall.
The moment he was gone, the mood in the room shifted so fast that it made Ellie dizzy. Lord Reese stood and moved to give his brother a firm hug and a thump on his back. He started out shaking Ellie’s hand, but was hugging her in no time. Lady Howsden flew around the table to take first Henry into her arms, and then Ellie. She cried, clutching Ellie to her.
“I don’t care what trials you’ve had to face in life, my dear,” she said throug
h sobs. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a daughter. It won’t be easy, and I’ll admit, it will be easier for the both of you if you move to America, but I will always stand up for you, always support you in everything you do.”
“Thank you so much, my lady.” Ellie hugged her tightly, her heart full.
“Not ‘my lady’.” Lady Howsden shook her head. “Mother.”
Ellie was too moved to repeat the word, but she gave Lady Howsden an extra squeeze before stepping back into Henry’s arms.
“You know,” Henry said, turning her to face him. “I don’t think I actually did the right thing and asked the question properly.”
“You didn’t?” Ellie giggled, her heart dancing a jig.
“Not quite.” He held her hands and dropped to one knee. “Ellie Braun, light of my life and strength in my soul, will you marry me?”
Suddenly, Ellie was almost too choked up to answer. She couldn’t believe the risk she’d taken had turned out so beautifully. But, with tears spilling across her cheeks and joy filling every part of her, she nodded and said, “Yes, of course I’ll marry you. I love you, Henry Howsden.”
EPILOGUE
Henry had no idea what to expect as the tough old steam engine driving the train where he’d spent the last two days, Ellie tucked against his side, pulled into the small station in Haskell, Wyoming. He’d been enthralled by the change in landscape from rolling hills and snow-covered trees, not unlike the landscape in England, to flat farmland lying dormant in January, to soaring rocks and white-capped mountains as they traveled the breadth of America. As they passed through sprawling ranchland, dotted with cattle as far as the eye could see, during the last hour of their journey, Ellie had been glued to the window.
“We’re here,” she squealed at last as the train let out a shrill whistle and began to slow. “We’re here. We’re home. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone. I know they’re going to love you, and I know you’ll love each and every one of them.”