These thoughts served to while away the hackney ride back to Seabrooke House, but once there she felt no closer to a plan of action. Christabel was happy to see her, exclaiming over the hair ribbons she had brought back as a gift and demanding to try them on at once. Frederica willingly complied, submerging all thoughts of her absurd situation in the soothing familiarity of the nursery and her routine here. Once Christabel was settled for the night, however, the thoughts came surging back and she made a sudden decision.
She would never advance the resolution of any of her problems if she spent all her time hidden away in the nursery. It was time she moved forward on all fronts, and the only way to do that was to confront Lord Seabrooke face to face. They had not consulted over their separate investigations since Saturday evening; surely he would not think it odd if she were to come to the library again after dinner to ask what progress had been made. Sternly refusing to acknowledge the trembling in her stomach, Frederica tidied her wig, touched up her freckles, straightened her glasses and went downstairs.
On the first-floor landing, she paused. Were there voices coming from the dining-room? It had not occurred to her that the Earl might have company. He frequently dined out, but she could not recall him inviting anyone to the house for dinner since she had been here. Perhaps he was merely speaking to the footman, Jeffries, who had taken over Mr. Coombes’s duties until another butler could be hired.
Frederica decided to wait in the library. If Lord Seabrooke did have guests, they would doubtless go to the parlor after dinner, and she could simply return to the nursery. And if they did by chance come to the library, she could pretend to be looking for a book. Accordingly, when she heard the dining-room doors open, she positioned herself near one of the shelves, pretending to scan the titles. Yes, there was another male voice besides the Earl’s, and it was certainly not Jeffries’s. In fact, it sounded remarkably like...
To Frederica’s horror, the handle of the library door began to turn. In desperation, she dived behind a large chair in the corner, one that was seldom used, and crouched there, holding her breath. Lord Seabrooke and his guest entered the library and seated themselves near the fire on the opposite side of the room. Peering cautiously around the edge of her chair, Frederica was relieved to see that both men had their backs to her. Even so, there was no mistaking that handsome blond profile when the Earl’s guest turned to speak.
Of all the people in England, why did he have to invite my brother to dinner? Frederica wondered frantically. And whatever am I to do now?
Her only practical choice was to remain hidden. Revealing herself now was completely out of the question, for there was no knowing what Thomas might do or say were he to recognize her. As her heart slowed its fevered pounding, thought became possible again and the answer to her first question also came clear. Thomas was doubtless here to discuss her betrothal. What could be more natural than for him to call on his future brother-in-law upon his return to London?
At that thought, some of her original resentment at his insolent handling of her future returned. Could he not at least have waited until he heard from her before coming to Town to solidify his plans? The letter she has posted that afternoon would not reach him now, of course. She would have to discover his lodgings and write to him there. Her courage bolstered by irritation, she began to listen to their conversation, which they had apparently begun during dinner.
“In fact,” Thomas was saying, “I’m beginning to think losing that twelve thousand pounds to you was the best thing I could have done. Otherwise Freddie might well have remained unwed to her dying day.”
“And you don’t foresee any problems when she hears about the child?” asked the Earl.
Frederica’s mind barely registered the fact that Lord Seabrooke had revealed Christabel’s existence to her brother. Her whole attention was focussed instead on what Thomas had just said. Did that mean that her betrothal had been the result of a wager? Her face burned at the thought.
“No, no,” Thomas answered expansively, making Frederica suspect that he had been drinking rather heavily. “Freddie loves children. Besides, five years is a long—” He was interrupted by a tap at the library door.
The Earl rose to open it, and Frederica heard the footman say, “A Mr. Trent to see you, m’lord. I’ve put him in the front parlor.”
“Very well, Jeffries. Ask Mrs. Abbott to prepare a room for him. He will be staying for a day or two. Sir Thomas, pray help yourself to another glass. I shall return in a few moments.” He followed Jeffries out of the room.
Frederica did not stop to think, so outraged was she over what she had heard a moment before. The instant the door closed behind Lord Seabrooke, she sprang from her hiding place to confront her brother.
He turned at the sound of her step and blinked, plainly wondering how she had materialized in the middle of the room. “Lord Seabrooke is in the parlor, ma’am,” he said politely, though he frowned in confusion. “Are you Mrs. Abbott? I believe he has instructions for you.”
“No, I am not Mrs. Abbott,” said Frederica clearly, and had the satisfaction of seeing Thomas’s jaw drop at the sound of her voice. “Thomas, I believe we have something to discuss.”
CHAPTER 11
“Freddie?” Sir Thomas gaped at his sister in disbelief. “What the devil are you doing here? And in that get-up?”
“Never mind that for the moment. I will have an explanation from you first. Did I understand you to say that my betrothal to Lord Seabrooke was to pay off a gambling debt of yours? How dared you do such a thing?” Though she kept her voice low, it shook with fury.
Thomas pulled his fascinated gaze from her face with a visible effort and examined the toes of his polished Hessians. After a lengthy pause, he sighed. “Yes, Freddie, I lost heavily at cards to Seabrooke last month. As my money is all tied up in that blasted trust,” he said bitterly, “I had no way to make good on the debt at once. Your name came up in conversation, and once I had told him about you, he seemed quite eager for the match. I—I didn’t tell you, because I knew you’d kick up the devil of a fuss, just as you are doing now.” He met her eyes again with a frown. “But that don’t explain what you are doing here! How did you manage to sneak into Seabrooke House?” He glanced over at the fastened window casements.
“I came to discover more about him so that I could hold you to your agreement,” she snapped. “Milly helped me to get a position as Christabel’s nanny.” She decided there was no point in telling him about that first interview, and her suspicions at the time.
Thomas’s expression became thunderous. “Do you mean to say that you’ve actually been living under the man’s roof? For how long?”
“About ten days now, but—”
“And you have the audacity to take me to task?” He was now fully as angry as she. “You realize, of course, that your reputation is completely ruined?”
“Ssh! Moderate your tone, Thomas. Lord Seabrooke has no notion of whom I am, as yet, and I would prefer to keep it that way,” hissed Frederica, with a hasty glance towards the door. “As long as no one discovers that Miss Cherrystone and Miss Chesterton are one and the same, my reputation should not suffer. And how can you presume to condemn me when it was you who forced me into this situation to begin with?”
Brother and sister glared at each other for a long moment, and in the sudden silence, they heard firm footsteps coming toward the library. Frederica said quickly, “Meet me in Hyde Park tomorrow morning. We can discuss it further there.”
The door opened, and she turned. “Good evening, my lord,” she said smoothly. “I came to find a book. I had no notion that you were entertaining this evening.”
Lord Seabrooke raised his eyebrows slightly at the sight of the nanny face to face with his future brother-in-law, but he merely said, “I take it you have made the acquaintance of Sir Thomas Chesterton?”
Thomas remained mute, apparently still struggling with the remarkable situation, so Frederica said quickly, “I’ve only
been here a moment, my lord. I fear I rather startled Sir Thomas.”
“Then allow me to present Christabel’s nanny, Miss Cherrystone. Cherry has made herself most invaluable to us,” he added, with a warm smile at Frederica.
She returned it perfunctorily, fearful of what Thomas might think. “Pleased to meet you, sir,” she said, bobbing a quick curtsey. “I’ll just get my book and leave you gentlemen to your brandy. My apologies for intruding.”
Seizing a volume at random, she hurried from the room before she could lose her precarious control. Once in the hallway, the door safely closed behind her, she had to fight an incredible urge to giggle. What an absurd situation! Glancing down, she noticed the title of the book she held. A Thesis on Geometrical Equations. One hand over her mouth, she ran for the stairs before her laughter could bring the Earl or the servants to investigate.
Gavin, meanwhile, watched her go with something like regret. Why had he not informed her that Sir Thomas was his future brother-in-law? The more unavoidable his approaching wedding became, the more he felt, with every fibre of his being, that he was doing the wrong thing.
* * *
On the way to the Park the next morning, Frederica wondered whether she ought to give Christabel some warning about their meeting with her brother. Glancing down at the child’s happy, shining face, she decided against it. They had brought along another sack of stale bread to feed to the ducks, and her charge would doubtless be too occupied with that favorite pastime to notice whom her nanny spoke to.
Thomas was awaiting them at the Park gates.
“Good morning, Sir Thomas,” she said with a polite nod. “How pleasant to see you here. Would you care to walk with us to the duck pond?”
He took his cue from her and answered in the same style, and they conversed on general topics until Christabel was surrounded by an eager flock of ducks and laughing happily as she fed them.
“Now, perhaps you will explain to me what is going on,” Thomas said softly once they had moved a short distance away. “I nearly had an apoplexy when I saw you at Seabrooke House last night. Why did you not go to Miss Milliken’s, as you told me you would?”
“I did,” replied Frederica. “But it became obvious that the only way I could discover anything of importance about Lord Seabrooke was by becoming a spy in his household.” She went on to describe the procedure they had followed to procure her position there.
Thomas listened with open skepticism. “And has it worked? Have you managed to prove him a scoundrel?”
Frederica bit her lip. It rankled to admit to Thomas that he had been right, but the only alternative was to ruin a man she now considered a good friend. “He is no saint, that is certain,” she said finally; “But no, I cannot call him a scoundrel. Though I still think it reprehensible of you to betroth me to him without my consent!” Her green eyes met his blue ones squarely. “It was hardly likely to promote a felicitous marriage. And now I fear that may be even harder to achieve. He is far from happy about the match himself, Thomas.”
“He gave no hint of that to me,” her brother protested. “Not even when I informed him that I put the announcement in the papers yesterday.”
“What? How dared you do so when I had not finished my investigation?” Frederica flared. “You could not know that I would not find anything!”
Thomas looked smug. “But you have not, have you? And just as well, for I’d never let you off marrying him now that you’ve been living unchaperoned in the same house! We can only hope that word of it never leaks out. Still,” he said, looking at her with respect, “it was a plucky thing to do, Freddie, and more than I expected of you.”
“It is good in you to say so,” she said cuttingly. “But I have another concern. How am I to reveal what I have done? Lord Seabrooke does not strike me as a man who will look kindly on deceit.”
“Perhaps you need not tell him. Quit your post as nanny and appear as yourself. He may never make the connection. I didn’t recognize you m’self last night, after all.”
Frederica cast him a withering glance. “I’ll grant that you might be fooled, Thomas, but Lord Seabrooke is more observant. He’ll know who I am the moment I speak two words to him. I don’t believe he is the sort of man who puts great stock in appearances.” She wondered if that were wishful thinking on her part. Still, if she could win his affection as plain Miss Cherrystone, she would have proof positive that he did not care merely for her fortune or her beauty. Then she would wed him most willingly…if he would still have her!
“Give me just a few more days,” she said. She could not reasonably delay longer than that. The Little Season was already begun. “Make the arrangements for my official arrival in Town. I’ll make out a list of what you must do.” Already she was mentally arranging things. “You must take a house in Mayfair, have my wardrobe sent up to Town…I shall send you a note detailing everything. In less than a fortnight, if all goes well, Miss Frederica Chesterton will make her formal debut!”
* * *
When Frederica returned to Seabrooke House, she found Lucy hovering near the back entrance, waiting for her. “His lordship wishes to see you in the library at your earliest convenience, miss,” she said, her eyes alight with curiosity. “I’ll stay with Miss Christabel until you return.”
Thanking her, Frederica hurried through the house, her heart accelerating, though with nervousness or anticipation, she was uncertain. Only when Lord Seabrooke greeted her with a smile did she realize fully how much she had missed his company during the past few days.
“Cherry! ” he greeted her jovially, making her wonder giddily if the feeling were mutual. “I’ve received a letter from an innkeeper in Coldstream. It appears your hypothesis was well founded. In his marriage book, he has a record of a wedding, over the anvil, of a Miss Amity Alexander and a Captain Peter Browning!” He waved the letter at her delightedly.
“Oh, my lord, that is all that is wonderful!” cried Frederica, other considerations forgotten in her happiness for Christabel. “Now you can openly declare Christabel your niece!”
“And we owe it all to you, Cherry,” exclaimed the Earl, coming forward to clasp her in a hug much like the ones he was wont to give Christabel. “Thank you.”
Even as Frederica returned his embrace without thinking, he surprised her with a kiss—full on the mouth. Overcome by the excitement of the moment, she returned the kiss in the same spirit, only to be betrayed by the intensity of her own feelings. His clasp tightened and her arms slid up his back, almost of their own volition. Imperceptibly, what had been a congratulatory kiss became something else entirely.
As he deepened the kiss, Frederica’s mind spun, an incredible surge of desire sweeping over her. What on earth was she doing? Though being in his arms felt much, much more wonderful than she had even imagined, she stiffened in spite of herself. He released her at once, looking acutely embarrassed. For herself, she was certain her face was flaming.
“I, ah, suppose you will wish to tell the staff first, my lord,” she stammered, not meeting his eyes.
“Er, yes, I’ll let Mrs. Abbott handle that. She’ll be delighted, I doubt not.” He seemed exceedingly interested in a porcelain figurine on the mantelpiece. “Could you ask her to step in here when you go?”
“Certainly, my lord.” Frederica turned toward the door. The ebbing storm of emotion both elated and confused her. Had he felt something as well, or had she merely imagined the look in his eyes?
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, halting her. “My steward arrived from Brookeside last night with the quarterly account books. Would you mind terribly going over them with me, ah, with him, this afternoon or perhaps tomorrow?”
“Of course not, my lord.” Their glances met for an instant and her heart began to race again.
“Thank you, Cherry,” said the Earl again, and she knew he did not only refer to her willingness to look over the books.
With a quick nod, Frederica vacated the room to go in search of Mrs. Abbott.
To avoid dwelling on the scene just past and the feelings it had unexpectedly aroused in him, Gavin forced himself to concentrate on his interview with Mrs. Abbott, who appeared after a mercifully short interval.
“So you see, it would doubtless be best if we were to act as though we always knew Christabel to be Amity’s legitimate daughter,” he said, after explaining to her what he and Cherry had discovered, and how. He had made no secret of the fact that Miss Cherrystone deserved the bulk of the credit for salvaging his sister’s reputation and Christabel’s future.
Mrs. Abbott nodded at the conclusion. “I’ve always discouraged the staff from speculating about her anyways, m’lord—them what knew about her at all, that is. ’Twon’t be the work of a day to convince them that I knew about this all along, and that you was just waiting until she was settled in before letting on she was here. I’ll say she’s been a bit poorly—that’ll be explanation enough.”
“Excellent! I knew I could rely upon you to handle the matter, Mrs. Abbott.” Gavin smiled broadly at her, glad to have the matter so easily taken care of. If anyone asked him about Coombes’s story now, he could simply dismiss it as the tale of a disgruntled servant he had fired for just cause.
“And what about Miss Cherry?” asked the housekeeper abruptly, breaking into his satisfying thoughts.
“What about her?”
“You know as well as I, m’lord, that she’s not a proper person to be nanny to an Earl’s legitimate niece. Don’t forget that I’m the one who checked out her references. Most of them were false.”
“Yes, yes, I know.” In truth, Gavin had tried to forget the fact, and had nearly succeeded. “But surely she has proved that she is capable of the post. Look at what she has done for Christabel! And they are quite attached to each other, you know.”
Daring Deception Page 11