Timeless Deception

by Susanne Marie Knight

  The Dowager patted Alaina's arm. “And you must know you have worn yourself to the bone in nursing Terrence back to health. You need some activity to bring the color back to your cheeks. Say you will come, Alicia. You would make an old woman very happy.”

  Ouch. Just the thought of meeting and mingling with polite society sent shivers of dread zigzagging throughout her body.

  “Old?” Alaina countered. “Why, that's ridiculous! You're not old, Ma'am. My own mother would have been seventy if she was still—”

  She came to an abrupt halt. Of course, she was talking about her own mother, not Alicia's mother. What would the Dowager think?

  “Is that so?” the Dowager commented. “I had no idea your dear mother was of such an advanced age when she passed away ten years ago. Imagine, the Duke not only brought home a French bride from his Grand Tour, but a woman older than him. I cannot wait to tell Denise!"

  Saying silent apologies to the deceased duchess, Alaina wiped moisture from her forehead. That had been a close call.

  Lady Wilhelmina harped back to her previous theme, saying in a firm voice, “I must insist on this, Alicia. I won't take no for an answer. You will attend Lady Ravenwood's ball on the twenty-third of May.”

  She straightened her white daytime cap. “La! I had better dress for dinner. I almost feel like I am in dishabille! You will excuse me, won't you?” Standing, she shook the wrinkles from her gown. “Also, Isabel has invited her young man to dine with us. Not that Mr. Boggs is young, but he is amusing, is he not?”

  As the liveried footman opened the door for the Dowager she clapped her hands together. “I shall inform Denise you have changed your mind. She will be ecstatic to have managed such a coup. The Countess of Saybrooke's reemergence into society at the Ravenwood ball! What a trump for Denise!”

  The solitary sound of Alaina's enamel cup hitting its matching saucer echoed the way she felt. “Drat. I suppose I have to make an appearance at one of these events sooner or later. Oh well, might as well start preparing for it."

  She shrugged. “Look on the bright side. Since Richard's leaving today to go up north, close to the Scottish border, it's a sure bet he won't return to London in time to attend. At least this way, if I make a fool of myself, he won't be around to see it.

  That was supposed to be a bright side? She missed him already.

  “And he won't be around to tempt me into betraying my feelings. I've no control over myself anymore. Damn!”

  Dragging her feet, Alaina returned to her bedroom to change for dinner.

  ~*~

  Determined to get to the bottom of this mystery concerning his wife, Richard requested a private conference with the one person who knew Alicia and Alaina the best: their personal maid, Dana. He had to proceed very carefully, for it would not do to alert the woman that her mistress was an impostor.

  Behind the closed doors of the Library, he tried to put the maid at ease. “Dana, please sit and get comfortable. I have a few questions concerning my wife, and thought you might be able to help me."

  The young maid visibly shook. She sat rigidly on the edge of the shield-back chair and held her arms stiffly at her sides. Gulping several times, she seemed unable to execute an answer.

  He gave her a reassuring smile. “You have probably noticed that Lady Alicia seems to be suffering from melancholy. I am trying to discover the cause of it before she falls into a dangerous decline.”

  Dana nodded, but remained silent.

  Richard leaned back in his red leather chair so as not to frighten her. “Come now, Dana. We both have Lady Alicia's welfare at heart. Please do not feel you are disloyal by discussing her with me. I must find out what is troubling her. Anything you say might help me to determine the cause.”

  The maid nervously played with a pinch of black fabric from her uniform. “Yes, Milady does seem distressed as of late. But I don't know how I can help you, Milord,” she whispered.

  “You have been with your mistress some ... seven years, am I right?” At her slow nod, he continued, “Then who else better to notice Her Ladyship's moods and whims? Has she mentioned anything in particular? Or behaved differently recently?”

  Lord, that was an understatement if ever there was one. “Take your time, Dana,” he said.

  Frowning slightly, the maid thought for a moment, and then began cautiously, “Well, Your Lordship, I can tell you Milady has been very unhappy. I have come upon her at times, and she has been a-cryin'.” She stopped, seemingly fearful of betraying a confidence.

  “Go on, Dana. You are doing fine,” he encouraged.

  “Milady has been so wonderful these past few months—beggin’ Your Lordship's pardon—that it has been a pleasure to serve her. So naturally, we all have remarked on Milady's feelin’ low.”

  Dana's face shone with pride. “Milady no longer has her explosive temper. And she is so considerate of us servants now. She is always doin’ good deeds. When she told me about sewin’ stuffed animals as presents for the children, I was fair bowled over!"

  The maid obviously was warming up to her subject. “Then, when I found out every one of Milady's gowns had mysteriously decreased in length, I expected an explosion the size of a ... a volcano! But not one word of reproach did she speak to me. She even made a joke of it, she did. Said they must have shrunk in the wash. Or that she had grown!”

  Richard listened attentively to this last statement. It confirmed his observation that Alaina was taller than his wife.

  The maid spoke again, remembering another item. “Milady was also in a dither before Christmas. Searchin’ for a woman by the name of ‘Madame Reena,’ if I recall correctly. Seemed fair put out that she couldn't find this person. But after January, Milady snapped out of her depression, so I don't think she is still upset about that.”

  The maid fell silent, her wealth of gregariousness at an end.

  Richard probed further. “And when would you say Lady Alicia first started being a ... happier person?” He tried to ask that question casually but while he faked indifference, he sat on the edge of his seat.

  After a few moments of contemplation, the maid piped up, “Of course, I remember! It was when Milady had given us a scare by bein’ un ... con ... scious, unconscious! There, I said it right! Back in December. Why, she woke up and it was like she was a different person."

  Richard drummed his fingers. Most likely she was.

  “And she had the prettiest ear-bobs danglin’ from her ears, Your Lordship. Golden leaves, they were. I don't know where Milady got those ear-bobs. She was even wearin’ the oddest garment. A wonderfully silky pink robe. I never saw it before in her wardrobe. And I certainly didn't put her to bed in it the night before."

  He rubbed his chin. This was interesting news.

  “D'you know,” Dana added, “the robe had a fastenin’ on it that worked like magic? Pull the tab down, and it opened. Pull the tab up, and it closed. I asked Milady about it but she never did give me an answer.”

  “Is the robe here at Hanover Square?” he questioned.

  “No, Your Lordship. I've not seen it since the day Milady woke up from her illness.” Dana then brightened. “But the ear-bobs are here. I've seen ‘em."

  Standing, Richard then walked over to the maid. “Thank you, Dana. You have been very cooperative."

  When she got to her feet, he placed his arm around her shoulder and escorted her to the door. “Have no fear,” he assured her. “This conversation will remain between the two of us. Indeed, I am off to do some traveling, and when I return, I hope to clear up this mystery so Lady Alicia regains her cheerful spirits.”

  “Thank you, Your Lordship.” Dana bobbed a curtsey. “'Twill be good to see Milady smile again."

  After the maid left, Richard smiled his own smile. When he returned from Saybrooke Hall, he would make certain his lady would wear smiles much more often.

  He gathered a few of his belongings, then headed for the stables. Instead of going to Northumberland on estate matters, as
he had told Alaina, he traveled to Saybrooke Hall. The reason for this deception was that he did not want to take the chance of Alaina suggesting that she accompany him. He needed a free hand in interviewing the servants about her. And after finishing his business at the Hall, he and Alaina would have their final confrontation.

  ~*~

  At Saybrooke Hall, Richard searched his wife's dressing room, feeling a bit like an intruder. The gowns in the wardrobe confirmed Dana's statement about the difference in length. A majority of the dresses all bore the mark of alteration at the hem—skillfully disguised by an additional flounce or extra embroidery. The untouched ones were noticeably shorter. Evidently Alaina did not plan to wear them again.

  He finished his survey of the wardrobe without finding the object he was looking for: the mysterious pink robe.

  Entering her bedchamber, he scanned the room with an eye for possible hiding places. If he could but challenge her with this robe, she would surely then reveal the truth. Dana's description of the robe intrigued him. And he was completely at sea as to what the magical fastening of the robe might mean.

  After a thorough examination of the bedchamber without results, he sat dejectedly on the bed. Where might she have hidden it? The cupid statues surrounding the bed seemed to leer suggestively at him, mocking his current failure. Where the devil could she have cached a blasted robe?

  He ran his hand through his hair. A robe was a bulky object but perhaps ... just perhaps this one was skimpy. Dana had mentioned it was silky. Perhaps it could be folded upon itself and occupy the smallest compartment.

  In a flash, his gaze rested on the Sheraton writing table in the middle of the room. Yes, of course. A piece of furniture designed for secrets! Moving his large hands deftly over its surface, he discovered its false facade and the lock behind it. Regardless of the damage, he used a knife to break the mechanism.

  With a quick inhalation of breath, he pulled the drawer open. Inside the small space, a rose-pink fabric reflected back at him. It had been ruthlessly stuffed within the container.

  For several minutes following the discovery, the large ornamental clock on the fireplace mantle ticked away. Richard sat, inanely opening and closing Alaina's wonder robe. As he pushed the tab upward, tiny teeth interlocked together. Just as unbelievably, when he pulled the tab down, they were pulled away.

  Nowhere in England, or indeed anyplace in the world that he was aware of, could boast of such a fastener, so finely and meticulously made.

  The mystery grew deeper and deeper.

  A piece of paper that had fallen on the floor attracted his attention. He picked it up and read it. Mostly scribble, it was a list of materials needed for some sort of sewing project. But the handwriting teased his memory.

  He read the list again. It was Alaina's Christmas project for the estate's children. Her handwriting.

  Thunderstruck, he sank down on a spindle-legged chair. Her handwriting was the same as on his presentation papers. Was Alaina telling the truth then? Did she actually edit his research?

  “Good Lord!” he exclaimed. “Who the devil is she?"

  Crumpling the robe into a ball, Richard then crammed it into his pocket. He strode out of her bedchamber as if the Hall were on fire. There was no time to lose. He would return to London immediately.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The Marquess and Marchioness of Ravenwood's estate was located in Kew Green, well inside the Greater London area. In spite of the heavy Sunday traffic, the trip there didn't take long. Despite the relatively close proximity, the Dowager had accepted the invitation to spend the night. Which was a good thing. Evidently, desperate gangs loved to attack rich carriages and severely beat its occupants. So rampant street crime was also a problem in the year 1817.

  The Ravenwoods’ estate, Groughton Castle, was absolutely immense. An entire village could have been set within its walls!

  Upon arriving, Lady Wilhelmina, Lucinda, and Isabel all headed to the powder room to primp, so Alaina followed close behind. One wrong turn in this mansion and a person could get lost for days!

  Nigel Cransworth escorted her tonight and seemed to consider her his “date.” She appreciated his attention, especially tonight. She needed all the self-confidence she could muster. Stepping into the corridor, she glanced down at her ball gown. It was a vision in shimmering, sea-green satin, held under the breasts by a gold beaded belt. Rather daring too, with off-the-shoulders, short, skirted sleeves that moved unfettered in the breeze. White satin slippers and white kid gloves completed her accessories, but instead of heavy jewelry, Alaina wore a simple gold necklace and her very own gold leaf earrings.

  She looked wonderful. Now if she could only get passed this nervousness.

  The Cransworths, along with Cousin Isabel and Ian Boggs joined her in the line of guests to be announced and received. Since most of the wait occurred in the corridor, when it was her party's turn to enter, the grandeur and size of the Grand Ballroom took Alaina's breath away. The room spanned two stories high. The receiving line congregated on a small balcony, and a staircase descended to the main floor. Four huge crystal chandeliers lighted the fabulous room, and if she had puzzled over replacing the candles in the bedroom at Saybrooke Hall, her speculation was lost as to how to perform the same task at Groughton Castle.

  Standing from her vantage point on the balcony, she observed the resplendently dressed assemblage, appearing as colorful miniatures in the dazzling Grand Ballroom.

  “I've never seen the like of this before,” Alaina uttered with reverence.

  “Indeed,” Lady Wilhelmina whispered, “the Prince-Regent himself has tried to get possession of Groughton Castle—by offering the Marquess Carlton House as a trade. The Marquess, naturally, declined the honor!”

  Soon the Dowager's entourage was announced and Alaina found herself politely chatting with the Marquess and Marchioness of Ravenwood.

  “My dear, I cannot tell you how positively thrilled I am that you could attend our little party. Lady Wilhelmina has told me about your reluctance to appear in society. I assure you, Lady Alicia, it will be just the thing for you to get out and mingle.” Lady Ravenwood patted Alaina's gloved hand.

  “I congratulate myself on securing the elusive Countess!” the Marchioness declared.

  Alaina withheld a chuckle. Whatever floats your boat.

  While the Dowager and her friend exchanged a promise to meet later for a tête-à-tête, Nigel offered Alaina his arm to escort her down the staircase. For a moment, it seemed that the multitude below quieted a fraction of a decibel.

  No, must be her imagination. She was too sensitive. Surely there must be plenty of people here with a worse reputation than Alicia's. But maybe not. Talk about having everyone's “eyes” on you!

  Too bad she had to have the stigma of Alicia's reputation. She would've been content to wander throughout the room, marveling at the numerous wall murals and the exotic palm trees decorating the interior, but Lucinda would have none of that.

  “Oh, I see John and Clarice Penterbury, let's do join them. Though why she is wearing that pink gown, with her red hair....” Lucinda gave a delicate shudder. “I count myself fortunate that you are my friend, Alicia. You would never steer me wrong to wear a disastrous color!”

  Alaina smiled at Lucy, looking so enchanting in her silver and blue gown. As Lucy led the way to her friends, a pale blush of pink brought on by excitement enhanced her pretty face. Nigel took on the duty of procuring lemonade for the ladies but he called back to Alaina, “Don't forget. The first waltz is mine!”

  Maneuvering through the crowded floor, Lucinda pouted, “I don't understand why you refuse to dance naught but the waltz, Alicia. I want you to have a good time. You are limiting your fun. Why, I feel so light on my feet. I could dance all night!”

  “You promised you would not overdo it, Lucinda,” Charlie warned. But to Alaina he agreed, “Lucinda's right. How can I hope to secure a dance with you? The waltz is played so infrequently, and all these y
oung bucks are already beating a path to your side.”

  Alaina gave a carefree laugh. How exhilarating it was, being part of a gala event. The only thing missing, of course, was Richard. Her Rick.

  “All this nonsense,” she demurred. “Of course I'll save you a waltz, if you want.”

  At a wink from Mr. Boggs, she added, “And you, too!”

  The Penterburys seemed glad to see their friends, and introductions were performed for Isabel and Mr. Boggs. When Clarice's green eyes took in the elegance of the Cransworth women, she glanced down at her own pink round gown. The bottom of which hung heavy with large flowers, pearls, and rose satin gatherings. The woman sighed. Probably vowed to change dressmakers immediately!

  The musicians struck up the strands for the first dance—a minuet. Mr. Boggs and Mr. Penterbury led their ladies to the dance floor, but Charlie and Lucy hesitated, hating to leave her alone.

  “It's okay. Go ahead, you two.” Alaina shooed them away. “I'll be fine. In fact, I see Lady Wilhelmina sitting over by the wall. I'll join her.”

  Alaina stood for a moment, watching the three couples gracefully dance the minuet, then went on her way lest passersby conclude she was available for the set. She murmured inconsequential greetings to those guests she encountered, and with a feeling of relief, eased into a chair at Lady Wilhelmina's table. An elderly man with thinning white hair and a dignified manner was talking to the Dowager.

  “Lord Grumsbee, I do not believe you have met my daughter-in-law. Lady Alicia is Richard's wife, you know.” As she spoke, Lady Wilhelmina fluttered her handkerchief in the air.

  The gentleman rose, gave Alaina a stiff bow and said he was charmed. As he reseated himself, he confided, “Old bones don't move so well, I fear. Otherwise, be honored to escort you to the dance floor.”

  Alaina sipped at some lemonade. “Not to worry, sir. I'm happy to sit this one out.

  “Hiding her light under a bushel,” the Dowager commented. “Lord Grumsbee and I were just discussing Nigel's future in politics.”

  During the course of the evening, Alaina eventually danced with both brothers and the inimitable Mr. Boggs. The evening passed by in an agreeable haze. Even the gossip she overheard was favorable to her. The Countess of Saybrooke was behaving very circumspectly indeed!