Imitation of Love

by Sally Quilford

  Imitation of Love

  Copyright © Sally Quilford 2010

  Previously published by My Weekly Pocket Novels and Linford Romance Library

  Image © The Romance Novel Centre/Jimmy Thomas

  Imitation of Love

  Chapter One

  Catherine Willoughby tiptoed to the window and looked out into the early dawn light. She could see her elder brother, James Willoughby, mounting his horse, and next to him, already seated on a black stallion, the man they called the Captain. Catherine felt her heart thrill, despite the fact that the Captain’s face was covered, and she had no idea what he looked like. Despite rumours that he was the son of a tradesman, most of the women in England were madly in love with him. “He’s a bit of rough, but with a noble heart,” one excited, and very married, female neighbour had said to Catherine only recently. “Imagine what such a man would be like in...” Then, suddenly remembering she was talking to a nineteen year old unmarried girl, the neighbour had clamped her mouth shut. Though innocent in many ways, Catherine had not really needed the woman to finish the sentence. She too had her fantasies about the Captain, many of which included him rescuing her from danger, before declaring his undying love with a kiss.

  She opened the window slightly, hoping to get a better look at him, or to at least hear his voice.

  “Did you finish the documents?” she heard the Captain ask muffled tones. He wore a scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face, and his wide brimmed hat was tilted forward over his eyes.

  “Yes,” said Jimmy, handing over the papers. “All here. They’re perfect. If I may say so myself.”

  The Captain perused the documents, and although Catherine couldn’t see it, she felt sure he smiled beneath his mask. “Good job, old boy. Good job. I may be mistaken, but your talent for forgery seems to be growing by the day.”

  Momentarily, the Captain looked up and appeared to see her at her bedroom window. He bowed his head gallantly, then turned his horse and galloped away. In a few hours, Jimmy and the Captain would reach Dover, before sailing across the channel to save more British prisoners from Napoleon.

  Catherine silently wished them God speed in her heart, and closed the bedroom window. She climbed back into bed and lay her head on the pillow, thinking of the Captain. Even though she realised it was dangerous, she wished he was aware of her part in his mission.

  “Was that one of your sisters at the window?” Alexander Oakley asked Jimmy Willoughby as they rode towards Dover.

  “Yes, it was Catherine.”

  “Really, Jimmy, you ought to take more care. What if she’d seen my face?”

  “You’ve nothing to worry about with Cat, Xander. She’s on our side. Besides, she’s not a blabbermouth. Not like some women. My youngest sister, Alyssa, would be a different matter. I’ve never known anyone say so much about so little.”

  “All women love to talk, Jimmy. It’s in their nature. If Miss Willoughby found out I was the Captain, she’d break her neck to tell her friends.”

  “No, believe me. Cat wouldn’t. She’s got too much at …” Jimmy stopped.

  “Too much what?”

  “Too much common sense. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for Cat I don’t know how I’d have survived after the old man died. The estate was almost bankrupt because of his gambling debts. It was Cat who got it back on its feet again. She’s much cleverer than I am.”

  “She’s a woman, and I don’t trust them. At least not with a mission as important as ours.”

  “I take it you don’t discuss our exploits with Mrs. Somerson then.” Mrs. Somerson was a widow recently come to Court, and had set her sights on Xander Oakley the moment her old husband had died.

  “I don’t discuss anything with Phoebe. If I want intelligent conversation I’ll go to the Club, not to a woman.”

  “Honestly, Xander, you’re the bravest, most noble man I know. But I’ll never understand what it is that made you so cynical about women.”

  “Try years of emptying my pockets and my mind in order to … enjoy … their company.”

  Xander spurred his horse on. “Come on, Jimmy, we’re wasting time.”

  As he rode on, Xander couldn’t stop thinking about the girl at the window, with her pretty heart shaped face, intelligent dark eyes, and the glossy chestnut hair that hung loose on her shoulders. Not that he was fooled by the intelligent eyes. No doubt she’d soon be regaling her friends with the tale of seeing the Captain. If his previous experience was anything to go by, the story would lose nothing in the telling. The number of women he was supposed to have kissed as he saved them from France had gone into double figures, not to mention the few who hinted at him having stolen further pleasures from them.

  It was a part of his mission that he hated. It was important to remain anonymous, but it had also led to a mythology about him with which he was not completely comfortable. If he’d kissed and made love to half the women he was supposed to, he’d never have time to rescue the prisoners, not to mention how ridiculous it was that whilst on the run from the French, he’d risk wasting the time or shedding his disguise long enough to do either of those things. No, women had stupid notions, and he couldn’t bring himself to believe the young girl at the window was any different.

  As soon as he returned from France, he would go and see Phoebe Somerson. Her prattling on about love would soon remind him why he remained a bachelor. For some reason, instead of Phoebe’s attractive face, all he could see was a pair of intelligent eyes looking at him from a bedroom window.

  ***

  “Cat?” Jimmy entered the study, where Catherine sat poring over the accounts. “Where are the new documents?” Several weeks had passed since his last trip to France.

  “They’re in the safe, dearest. Are you leaving with the Captain again so soon?”

  “No. Cat … look I haven’t been entirely honest about these latest documents.”

  Catherine looked up with questioning eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Well …” Jimmy ran his fingers through his blonde hair. “The truth is the Captain’s exploits aren’t nearly enough to keep us fed. He pays well, as you know, but with the French becoming more aware of him, our trips to France are becoming rarer. So … well … I managed to get the work from someone else. I’m assured it is a noble cause, dearest.”

  “Jimmy, no! You promised. You said it would only ever be for the Captain. It’s the only reason I agreed.”

  “I know, Cat, but … well I’m really strapped. Mr. Oakley is holding a steeplechase this weekend, and I needed a really good horse if I’m to even have a chance of winning. The prize is one thousand guineas. That would keep us for a long time...”

  “Oh, Mr. Oakley!” Catherine sighed. “I should have known. Honestly, Jimmy, I can’t understand why you’d waste time with that … that … dandy! You know how hurt Papa was when you followed Mr. Oakley out of the army, especially as you’d worked so hard to move up the ranks. If not for old Mr. Oakley having influence at Court, your friend would have been drummed out.” The story of the Oakley’s insubordination whilst a serving in the army was well known, though the exact details were kept secret, no doubt Catherine thought, due to his late father’s influence. “I’d have hoped that having someone like the Captain as your mentor, you’d start to see what a fool Oakley is. All he cares about is clothes and horses. And women. Though I gather he doesn’t much care about the latter, except as just another sport.”

  Jimmy’s eyes widened. “Cat! I don’t think you should be discussing that. In fact, I can’t begin to think how you know these things. I’m afraid I did the wrong thing, involving you in all this.”

  “It’s a bit late to worry for my mortal soul now, Jimmy,” said Cat, quietly. “How do you k
now you can trust these new clients? The Captain has a noble cause, but how do you know these people aren’t using the documents for more nefarious means?”

  “They assure me their cause is impeccable, Cat, but beyond that I didn’t ask. What we don’t know can’t hurt us.”

  “Jimmy, dearest, have you ever thought of not trying to keep up with Mr. Oakley? He’s probably the richest man in England. You … we … can’t afford his lifestyle. Alyssa should be coming out this year, and that’s not going to happen.”

  “No, I know, and you missed your coming out completely. I’m sorry, Cat.”

  “That’s not your fault, darling. Father left us in such a mess.”

  “Perhaps if these people offer more work, and paid us for it, you and Alyssa could come out. You’re both extremely pretty girls. You’d be sure to get rich husbands.”

  “I’ve told you before, Jimmy, I’ve no wish to sell myself into a loveless marriage.”

  “Nearly all society marriages are loveless, Cat, and they manage quite well.”

  “Yes, and the husband takes a mistress as soon as possible, then when the wife has produced an heir and several spares, she takes a discreet lover. That isn’t what I want. I want…” Catherine realized that Jimmy was so indoctrinated into society, he would never understand. She wanted to be loved by someone who never wanted to look at another woman, and to love in return a man who made all other men pale in significance. Failing that, she’d rather die an old maid.

  “You think I don’t understand, but I do,” said Jimmy. “And believe it or not, Cat, it’s what I want too. We’re not so different you and I. But Alyssa is not so choosy. She’d quite happily marry the first rich man who paid her attention. “

  “Yes, I know she would. And if that’s what she wants, then we’ll let her make her debut. But not me, Jimmy. I won’t parade myself like some prize filly at a racetrack.”

  “So you agree to us taking on this new business?”

  “Yes, I suppose so. But be careful, Jimmy. Not everyone is as honourable as the Captain.”

  ***

  Several weeks later, standing at Jimmy’s grave, whilst the rain poured and Alyssa sobbed loudly beside her, Catherine’s words came back to haunt her. How could it have happened when they’d been so careful? She remembered the awful night and the loud knock at the door when the new clients come to collect the documents. Raised voices, Jimmy shouting, ‘I swear I’m alone here. My sisters are staying with relatives.’ Then the pistol shot and the sound of horses racing away. She’d dashed downstairs to find him lying dead in the hallway, his handsome young face twisted in an agony she could not put from her mind.

  Catherine looked across the open grave to where Mr. Oakley stood. His face was a bleak mask, and whilst she had no particular regard for him, she could see that Jimmy’s death had hit him hard. Well so it should, she thought bitterly. Had Jimmy not been so keen to keep up with Oakley’s lifestyle, then none of this would have happened. To die for the Captain’s cause would have been one thing. But to die for people who might have more evil intentions was another.

  Despite her anger, she had to admit he was a very striking man. She’d never actually met him, because he never visited Willoughby Manor, no doubt preferring the more luxurious houses of his richer friends than the ramshackle Elizabethan manor in which the Willoughbys lived. She’d imagined him to look a bit soft, plump and pampered, like the Prince of Wales, whom she’d once seen from a distance when he’d visited the North. The man standing opposite her was tall and lean. His features, far from being conventionally handsome, were rugged, and he had piercing blue eyes under hawk-like eyebrows. He was dressed expensively, and had an expertly tied cravat, but with his broad, powerful shoulders, he was more masculine than she’d imagined him to be. There was a rough edge to him that suggested he wasn’t quite the dandy Catherine expected.

  “What will we do?” asked Alyssa, as they walked back to Willoughby Manor. Mr. Oakley, and his friend, Mr. Andrew Harrington, a good looking young man of about twenty-four, walked several paces behind them, as if understanding their need for sisterly solitude. “I won’t have my coming out or my pretty dresses now, will I, Cat?” It was just like Alyssa to worry more about that than whether or not they’d be able to eat for longer than a few weeks before the money ran out. Whoever killed Jimmy failed to pay him for the forged documents, so they were no better off than before. Not that Catherine would have wanted to use it. There was only a little of the money left over from the Captain. Jimmy’s funeral had taken much of it.

  Catherine had spent the first few hours after Jimmy’s death trying to work a way around it. At first she thought she might try and contact the Captain, to seek his help, but then she had a better idea. After all, the Captain was not a rich man, but Mr. Oakley was, and Catherine, in her anger and grief, believed he owed them something for Jimmy’s loss.

  “I’m sure something will turn up, dearest,” said Catherine. “But if not, you and I can live quite happily as long as we’re sensible.”

  “I’m tired of being sensible,” said Alyssa, jerking away from her sister. Her beautiful face became petulant. “I’m seventeen, Cat. I’m supposed to be going to parties and having men fall wildly in love with me. I know you think I’m selfish, and not really thinking of Jimmy, and perhaps I am selfish. But I’m also thinking of you, Cat. If I married someone very rich then I could take care of you, just as you’ve always taken care of me and Jimmy.”

  “I’d never ask you to sacrifice yourself to marriage just for me, dearest.”

  “But I don’t care like you do, Cat. I’m not the falling in love type. I want pretty things and for lots of men to think I’m beautiful.” What Alyssa said very much echoed what Catherine and Jimmy had always known about her. In many ways, Alyssa was probably more realistic than they were about the expectations of women in society. She knew what was expected of her because of her beauty and was quite happy to use it to her advantage. “I don’t care if the man I marry loves me or if I love him. So really we wouldn’t be fooling anyone and I’d finally be able to do my bit for this family. Because I’ve always hated that you and Jimmy were the clever ones who took care of me.”

  “I had no idea you felt that way.”

  “No, because you think that I’m incapable of thinking of anyone but myself, and I accept that’s true most of the time. But whilst I may never love a man, Cat, I do love you, and I loved Jimmy.” Her voice broke a little at the mention of her brother’s name. “That’s the only love that matters to me. What our family feel for each other. Even Papa, with all his problems, knew that. He used to say to me ‘however many admirers you get, and you’ll have lots with your beautiful face, always remember that your family are the only people who love you for yourself’.”

  Catherine put her arm around her sister’s shoulders and drew her in. “I’m so very proud of you,” she said. “It will make things much easier.”

  “What things?”

  “You’ll see.” Catherine stole a glance back at Mr. Oakley, wondering how much he’d heard of the conversation. What did it matter? If he thought Alyssa was a gold digger it would only confirm his views on women. All that mattered is that he would be willing to help them.

  An hour later, most of the other guests had gone, but Mr. Oakley and Mr. Harrington remained, talking quietly with the family solicitor, Mr. Parry.

  “Miss Willoughby, Miss Alyssa,” Mr. Parry said eventually, “I wonder if I might have a word with you in the study? It is about your brother’s will.”

  “As far as I am aware, Jimmy had nothing to leave,” said Catherine. “The estate is automatically entailed away to our cousin, George.”

  “That is what we wish to discuss,” said Mr. Oakley. Apart from a few brief words of condolence, it was the most he’d said to Catherine all morning.

  “What’s happening?” said Alyssa, trembling slightly as Catherine took her hand and led her to the study, where the two men were already waiting.

 
“I’m not sure, dearest,” said Catherine, “But it can’t be anything worse than what’s already happened.”

  It was unmistakable who was in charge of proceedings in the study. Mr. Parry virtually sank into the background.

  “Please take a seat,” Mr. Oakley said. Catherine bit back a retort about not needing to be offered a seat in her own house, but then remembered that strictly speaking it wasn’t her home anymore. She meekly took a seat and Alyssa sat next to her, holding her hand tightly.

  That Alyssa was overwhelmed by Mr. Oakley was undeniable. Catherine found him frightening and she was usually the courageous one. “I am sure,” said Mr. Oakley, who went to the front of the desk and leant back on it, folding his arms, “that you have both been very worried for your future. I understand that the estate will now go to a distant cousin who, I gather, is on his way to claim it. Regrettably, not in time to attend Mr. Willoughby’s funeral.” His tone on the latter statement became brittle.

  “That is correct,” said Catherine. “And in his letter to me, Cousin George has made it clear he has no place for me and Alyssa at Willoughby Manor.” It came as no surprise to Catherine that her cousin George had behaved in such a way. There had always been bad feeling in the family, mainly due to the money her father had borrowed from Cousin George then not repaid. Their cousin, perhaps understandably, felt that the Willoughbys had cost him enough, so he was not willing to spend anymore on assisting the two girls.