by Merry Farmer
A PASSIONATE DECEPTION
MERRY FARMER
A PASSIONATE DECEPTION
Copyright ©2017 by Merry Farmer
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill (the miracle-worker)
ASIN: B076QKJ5KT
Paperback:
ISBN-13: 9781979056625
ISBN-10: 1979056625
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CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
About the Author
CHAPTER 1
LONDON, ENGLAND – 1878
Ellie Braun’s heart throbbed with excitement as she stood on the deck of the R.M.S. Kestrel, watching as it slid slowly into its dock in London. This was it. The moment she’d been waiting for since Theophilus Gunn sat her down in his office at The Cattleman Hotel months ago to tell her about Miss Helena Mortimer, the daughter of an old friend of his. She’d been terrified of the meeting. Mr. Gunn was a legend in Haskell, Wyoming, Ellie’s home for the past several years. He knew people all over the world—rich people, important people. He’d lived in England as a young man, serving as a valet for a nobleman and fighting in the Crimean War. There were even rumors that he’d been a spy in that war, and in America’s own Civil War, which was why he knew so many prominent people. But to Ellie, he seemed more like a kindly, white-haired grandfather.
A grandfather that had given her an opportunity of a lifetime—to leave her life as a whore at Bonnie’s Place, and to become a lady’s maid for Miss Mortimer. More amazing still, Miss Mortimer was on her way to England to marry a real, live nobleman. Which meant that Ellie would be part of the staff in the household of a marquis. She didn’t even know what a marquis was, only that it was terrifically fancy.
And now here she was, clutching her woolen shawl around her shoulders and brushing back a stray lock of blond hair as the brisk, October wind coming off the River Thames whipped around her. She watched Captain Tennant’s crew and the men on the ground scurry around, bringing the big, ironclad ship that had been her home for the past two weeks into its berth. Beyond the bustling harbor stretched the largest, grandest city Ellie had ever seen.
“She’s quite a sight, isn’t she?” Captain Tennant walked up behind her, taking a place at the railing by her side.
“I thought New York City was big,” Ellie said, her voice hazy with awe. “But this is amazing.”
Captain Tennant chuckled. “She’s a beautiful city. And if I ever had plans to settle down and make a home on dry land, I’d find myself a cozy townhouse overlooking these docks.”
Ellie turned to him, her brow lifting. She’d grown immensely fond of Captain Tennant throughout the journey. He was part salty sea-dog, part secret aristocrat with a pedigree as pure as Miss Mortimer’s fiancé. And he’d helped her out more times than she could count when Miss Mortimer had wandered off on the big ship, only to be found in the kitchens or the hold or, perhaps worst of all, the crewman’s quarters.
“You plan to sail for the rest of your life, then?” she asked him with a fond grin.
“There’s not much sailing to it these days,” he replied with a wink. “Wind power is being replaced by steam more and more with each year. I thought this ship was the latest in technological innovation when I purchased it five years ago, but already there are newer and better models out there.”
Ellie hummed. “I suppose it’s difficult to throw away one ship and buy another.”
Captain Tennant laughed. “It’s difficult for a man on his own, but when you own an entire shipping company and update your fleet by selling old vessels to smaller outfits, then use that profit to bring in the new, it’s another story.”
Ellie laughed along with him, lurching slightly as the ship was locked into its dock and the men set to work bringing out the gangplanks. “I keep forgetting that you’re more than you seem, Captain Tennant.”
“We’re all more than we seem, my dear,” he told her, placing an affectionate hand over hers on the railing.
Ellie made an ironic sound and shook her head. “I don’t know about that. I’m a simple girl from a humble background. I’ve spent the last few years of my life doing something most people disapprove of, to say the least. And now I’m supposed to convince some great, English family that I’m a qualified lady’s maid?” She made a sound between a laugh and a sigh. “I’ve been studying the way English household servants are organized. A lady’s maid is an important position.”
“With your intelligence, you’ll be able to pull it off,” Captain Tennant assured her.
“I might be able to convince Lord and Lady Howsden that I’m a qualified kitchen maid,” Ellie went on, referring to the parents of Miss Mortimer’s fiancé, Lord Henry Howsden. “It’ll be pushing things to carry off acting like a lady’s maid.”
“Come now.” Captain Tennant waved off her objections. “You’ve done a stellar job of keeping track of your young lady.”
Ellie rolled her eyes, unable to hide her smile. “Miss Mortimer does have a way of…getting into things.”
“I’ll never forget the way she tried to break into the kitchen stores that first night of our voyage—”
“—because she felt peckish in the middle of the night,” Ellie finished his sentence. “Or how about the next day, when she was so sick as we passed through that storm.”
“As I recall, you were sick too,” Captain Tennant reminded her with a wink.
“But I didn’t feel the need to toss my lunch over the railing with a crewman holding back my hair.” They shared a laugh as they shook their heads.
“How about just last week, when she decided she wanted to swim in the ocean while we were steaming full ahead?”
Ellie clasped a hand to her chest, her heart stopping all over again as she remembered the wild incident. “I honestly thought I was going to have to explain to Lord Henry how his fiancée drowned at sea. I don’t know what I would have done if your porter, John, hadn’t jumped in and rescued her.”
Captain Tennant frowned. “Yes, well, young John has been stepping over more than a few lines ever since then.”
“And Miss Mortimer has been letting him.” Ellie shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know why she agreed to marry Lord Henry in the first place if what she really wants is to be a free and modern woman.”
A wry smile touched Captain Tennant’s lips. “I think you will find, my dear, that amongst the British upper classes and the American rich, what young men and women want have nothing to do with what they get. From what I understand, your Miss Mortimer is one of these new ‘dollar princesses’ joining up with impoverished nobles over here.�
�� He nodded to the skyline of London. “Though I don’t know why any young woman would want her marriage to be a business transaction instead of a romantic one.”
“I can’t imagine it either,” Ellie agreed. “Marriage is meant to be more than that.”
Captain Tennant grinned and nodded in approval. “And that’s how I know that Miss Mortimer—and you, my dear—will be quite all right in this new life.”
“Me?” Ellie blinked at him.
“You have a strong head on your shoulders. And you’re as smart as a whip.”
“Oh, I don’t know if I’d say that.” Ellie felt herself blush down to her toes.
“You’re far cleverer than you give yourself credit for,” Captain Tennant said.
He opened his mouth to say more, but a commotion from the doorway leading into the heart of the ship near the first-class cabins yanked his and Ellie’s attention away. They turned in unison to find Miss Mortimer, wrapped in her simplest coat, a crushed-velvet hat covering her dark brown hair, attempting to sneak out toward the newly installed gangplank. Half a step behind her, holding her hand, was John the porter.
“Miss Mortimer.” Ellie pushed away from the railing and skipped to intercept her mistress.
“Oh!” Miss Mortimer squeaked, her eyes going round. “Oh dear.”
“Whatever are you doing?” Ellie asked. She took in the sight of her mistress dressed to travel and holding a suitcase in one hand and the porter’s hand in her other. John also carried a suitcase.
“John.” Captain Tennant glowered at the young man. “What is the meaning of this?”
“We’re in love,” Miss Mortimer declared before John could say anything.
Ellie’s brow flew up to her hairline. “But you’re engaged to marry Lord Henry.”
“Hmph!” Miss Mortimer stuck her nose up in the air. “I’ve never met the man. Daddy wants me to marry him, and for no other reason than so he can say he has a marquis for a son-in-law.”
“Miss Mortimer, we’ve been through this already,” Ellie told her, trying to maintain her servant’s standing, but feeling more like a schoolteacher reprimanding a student. “Your father has done what he thinks is best for you. Lord Henry is reportedly a very nice man, and very handsome to boot.”
Indeed he was. Ellie had seen his portrait. Lord Henry was deliciously attractive, with a strong jaw, dark hair, and eyes that shone with intelligence. Ellie had spent far more time than her mistress staring at his portrait, imagining what it would feel like to lie skin-to-skin with the man, and sighing.
“Hmph!” Miss Mortimer sniffed a second time. “I don’t love Lord Henry.” She said his name with a sneer, then turned to John with a sigh. “I love Johnny here. We’re going to be married.”
“John?” Captain Tennant glowered at the young man.
“It’s true,” John squeaked, then cleared his throat. “It’s true. Helena and I are in love.”
“Are you sure it’s the woman you love and not her father’s money?” Captain Tennant asked, one eyebrow raised.
“I love Helena,” John said, gazing into Miss Mortimer’s eyes with what looked to Ellie like genuine enough love.
“But what about Lord Henry?” she asked. “He’s waiting down there on the dock somewhere. He’s expecting you. Everything is already planned out for the wedding.”
“My mind is made up. I’m marrying Johnny,” Miss Mortimer said, enough of a hard edge in her voice to show the rough edges that finishing school hadn’t polished off.
“But so much is resting on your shoulders,” Ellie argued on. Passengers were beginning to disembark a short way down the deck, many of whom glanced over to see what the fuss was. “Lord Henry will be devastated.”
“Lord Henry, Lord Henry.” Miss Mortimer rolled her eyes and snorted. “If you care so much about Lord Henry, why don’t you—” She stopped dead and gasped, her eyes going wide. “That’s it!”
“That’s what?” Ellie asked, a feeling of dread filling her.
“You marry Lord Henry,” Miss Mortimer said.
“Don’t be daft, girl,” Captain Tennant scolded.
“It’s the perfect solution.” Miss Mortimer let go of John’s hand and pushed her suitcase into his arms before stepping toward Ellie. “Lord Henry has never seen me before. Daddy made this match with Lord Howsden when he was over here for business last summer. I’ve only ever exchanged a few letters with Lord Henry.”
“But you sent your portrait, didn’t you?” Captain Tennant asked.
“I never did,” Miss Mortimer declared, overjoyed. “I was supposed to, but who has the time to sit for a portrait these days?”
“Photographs don’t take any time at all,” Ellie argued.
Miss Mortimer shook her head and waved the argument away. “The point is, Lord Henry has never seen me. For all he knows, you are his fiancée.”
“But I’m not,” Ellie said with growing alarm.
“It doesn’t matter.” Miss Mortimer grabbed her hand, dragging her back toward the door leading to the first-class cabins. “If he sees a woman in fine clothes with an American accent, he’ll think you’re me. So all we have to do is dress you in my clothes, and voila.”
“I don’t think it’s that easy.”
Ellie’s protests fell on deaf ears. Miss Mortimer pulled her against the flow of traffic in the hallway to the cabin she had occupied for the length of the journey. The door wasn’t locked, so she threw it open and dragged Ellie inside.
“Now, I left most of my clothes behind, because Johnny and I won’t need them in the life we’re going to have together,” Miss Mortimer said, marching straight to the travel wardrobe that held most of her things.
Ellie didn’t know how to begin to ask what kind of a life she thought she was about to have. She didn’t have a chance to get a word in edge-wise.
“You’re the same size as me, more or less,” Miss Mortimer went on, throwing open the wardrobe and pulling a fine, blue silk day dress from among the others. “All we have to do is dress you up in one of the gowns from my trousseau, and once Captain Tennant introduces you to Lord Henry as me—”
“And who says Captain Tennant will do such a thing?” Captain Tennant himself asked from the cabin’s doorway. John was right behind him, both suitcases still in hand.
“Please,” Miss Mortimer begged. “You have to. It’s the only way.” She tossed the blue dress at Ellie, then rushed up to Captain Tennant, hands clasped in front of her. “Don’t you want a poor, innocent girl like me to be happy marrying the man she loves?”
Captain Tennant scowled, completely unmoved. He turned to John. “You’re fired, you realize.”
“You can’t fire me, sir. I quit,” John replied.
Captain Tennant snorted, then turned back to Miss Mortimer. “And how do you propose to make a living with an unemployed husband and no skills of your own?”
“I have money of my own,” Miss Mortimer declared. “From Mamma’s side of the family.” She didn’t wait to see what he thought about that, but turned back to Ellie. “Say you’ll do this for me. I know you think Lord Henry’s portrait is fetching.” Her tone turned needling, manipulative.
The problem was, Ellie couldn’t deny it. “Nothing about this feels right.”
“It doesn’t have to.” Miss Mortimer marched across the room to the wardrobe, pulling out a pair of silk stockings and a lacy corset. She tossed them on the cabin’s tiny bed along with a pair of kid leather boots. Captain Tennant’s frown deepened. “Look. All you have to do is dress like me, meet Lord Henry on the dock, and tell him you’ve had a change of heart on the voyage. Break off the engagement, then have a little vacation in London until Captain Tennant sails back to America.”
“A little vacation in London?” Ellie gaped at her. She shook her head. “I can’t break off your engagement for you.” Never mind the fact that she was supposed to be starting a new life too.
“Sure you can. It’ll be a cakewalk.” Miss Mortimer smiled and sighed as th
ough everything had already worked out perfectly. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, Johnny and I have to run.” She bolted for the door, where John was waiting.
“Now see here, young lady.” Captain Tennant tried to stop her, but he was far too much of a gentleman to physically lay hands on her. Which meant that Miss Mortimer was out in the corridor and zipping back along the hallway to the outside door before Ellie knew what happened.
When it finally hit her, she stared at the blue dress in her hands and said, “Oh my.”
“This is preposterous,” Captain Tennant said. “You don’t have to do this, my dear.”
Ellie sent him a doleful look. “I think I do have to.”
Captain Tennant took a step toward her. “I’ll send some crewmen after them. I’ll make her do her duty by her family. Or at the very least, I’ll go down there and find Lord Henry myself and explain what’s happened.”
“No,” Ellie contradicted him slowly. “I couldn’t do that to the poor man.” She sighed, moving the dress to the bed where the other things were. “He’ll be devastated to have his engagement broken. If it were me, I’d like the news broken gently.”
Captain Tennant blinked. “You don’t mean to tell me that you’re planning to actually go through with this, are you?”
Ellie reached up to undo the buttons of her coat. “Believe it or not, I am.”
“But Miss Braun,” Captain Tennant started to argue, using her formal name.
Ellie shook her head and shrugged out of her coat. “Just introduce me to Lord Henry as the woman he’s been waiting for, and I’ll take it from there.”
She just hoped she’d have the presence of mind to let the poor man down easily without landing herself in hot water.
HENRY HOWSDEN PACED the wharf between where the R.M.S. Kestrel had just docked and the warehouses that were teeming with activity, feeling like a caged tiger. He couldn’t stand still, and he couldn’t believe he had let his parents talk him into this idiotic scheme of marrying a woman he’d never met, never even seen. She could be old and hideous, even though, in her letters, she’d said she was twenty-three and the prettiest girl in her class at finishing school. She could have been as swarthy as a Spaniard, judging from the lock of her dark brown hair that she’d sent him. She could walk right past him and he’d never know.