by Geneva Lee
“Oh no, I insist that you let me pay,” Caroline started.
“Actually,” the waiter turned to his cart and produced a bucket and champagne, “the gentleman over there has already paid and sent this as his compliments along with this note.”
Caroline looked over at the table the waiter indicated and laughed. “It seems your brother is here, but couldn’t be bothered to join us.”
I got my first glimpse of the man I was expected to marry across a crowded room. He’d stood to leave and he paused, his hand reaching to button his suit jacket. I’d seen his picture online, but it hadn’t captured the raw sensuality he possessed. It radiated off him. All around him, eyes turned, but his eyes met mine and an electric current seemed to crackle through the air. Had everyone else felt that? I turned away, my cheeks flushing. I was on edge after the luncheon with his mother and after what I’d heard in the loo. The thought of the loo sent the dizzying sensation in my stomach crashing down. I wanted to believe it was still a coincidence. Then, I remembered that it hardly mattered. His marriage was an arrangement. He owed nothing, especially not to me. I wasn’t even the woman he was destined to marry.
Caroline held her hand out for the note, but the waiter shook his head. Instead, he passed it to me. “It’s for you. He asked you to read it in private.”
His mother turned a puzzled look in his direction. Then, directed it at me. “How odd.”
“But they knew each other as children?” Iris pointed out.
“Yes, but it’s hardly appropriate given the arrangement for—”
“Mother,” Evie interrupted, “it’s just a note.”
My heart started pounding as I took it and continued to do so during our farewells and all the way home while Iris discussed tomorrow’s event—the night where I would be formally introduced to a man I already felt I knew intimately.
As soon as we reached Willoughby Place, I headed to my rooms to put away my shopping. Stepping inside, I closed the door and unfolded the note.
Next time, dirty girl.
Chapter Eleven
Despite its lush comfort, I didn’t sleep well in Kerrigan’s bed the first night. Instead, I laid in the silky sheets, pillows around my entire body like a fortress, and rehashed the day’s events. Tod had stayed late in the office, working to secure a multi-billion dollar real estate parcel, according to Iris. After barely managing to keep my cool with Caroline Byrd, I was glad to have one less person watching my every move. Iris had continued to be kind and welcoming. The staff had given me a wide berth. But none of those things kept me awake, eyes staring blankly at the vaulted ceiling. No, my insomnia was the direct result of four simple words.
I don’t know how he knew it was me in the loo. Or why he’d felt the need to point it out. It wasn’t exactly the warmest start to our relationship. Still, every time I thought of the way he’d spoken to me while I hid in the stall, I felt a hungry tick between my legs. I’d listened to a man I’d never met, who I’d practically sold my soul to, fuck another woman. My rational half wanted to be angry about it. My emotional half was confused, jealous even. The confusion seemed to stem from the fact that I had no legitimate claim on him. And underneath my reason and my feelings, something else boiled. It was primal. It clawed inside me, wanting to be unleashed, and rattled the cage of my conscious efforts to contain it. The feeling sent my hand dancing between my legs again and again, but no matter how many times I pleasured myself, I wasn’t sated.
I was still lying in bed when the room lightened at dawn, sunlight filtering through the drawn curtains, and I was awake when someone knocked on the door.
“Yes?” I called not bothering to rise from my pillow fort but pulling the covers over me more tightly.
Giles entered, carrying a tray, and brought it to the bedside table. “Having a lie-in?”
“Something like that,” I muttered. Struggling to sit up, I tugged the old t-shirt, one of the few things I’d brought along with me, down, so I was presentable.
“I have your schedule for the day,” he informed me as he made me a cup of tea. He paused when he lifted the lid of the sugar jar. “How do you take this?”
“Two sugars,” I said. “But you really don’t have to do that for me.”
His head cocked. “Interesting, but no, I really do.”
I supposed this was more of the expectations I needed to absorb and adhere to if I was to pass for Kerrigan. “What do you mean by schedule?”
“Your father—pardon me, Mr. Belmond—would like to leave sharply at seven. Your hairdresser and make-up artist are scheduled accordingly, and your facialist will be here in an hour. Iris would like to hang out with you after your facial while you’re getting ready.” He shifted uncomfortably, lifting his glasses from his tipped nose and then cleaning them on a handkerchief. “Her words. Not mine.”
“Of course,” I said, breathing in the floral scent of the black tea.
“You should know that Kerrigan didn’t approve of her father’s romance with Miss Adler.”
I frowned. “So I should ignore her?”
“You’re the one present, Miss…” he trailed off and I realized he wasn’t sure what to call me.
“My name is Kate,” I said softly.
“It would be better not to get in the habit of using it. If I were to slip up and use it in front of the wrong person, the consequences could be messy.” He spoke apologetically, and I appreciated the difficult position he was in.
“What about K?”
“K?” he repeated.
“Just call me K, like a nickname. I’ll tell everyone that I picked it up while I was traveling,” I added the last pointedly. Later, I planned to drill Giles for as much background on Kerrigan’s whereabouts as possible. I didn’t want to be caught off guard—like I’d been with Caroline—again.
“I suppose, Miss...K,” he self-corrected. “How you proceed within this social circle is up to you. I am only here to offer insight.”
“Then I’d like to get ready with Iris.” That was an easy decision. It was understandable that Kerrigan had bristled at her stepmother’s closeness in age, but I had to believe if she’d gotten to know her that she might feel differently. “But am I seriously, just getting pretty all day?”
“It is a rather important day. We should go over who will be in attendance—”
“But you’ll be there, right?”
“If you would like,” he said, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “I can attend with the driver and stay in the car.”
“You can’t come to the party?” I shook my head, abandoning my tea to the bedside table as panic began to take hold of me. I needed someone there. Someone who was on my side.
“I am not an invited guest. It is a very exclusive occasion. However, should you like me to remain nearby…”
“No. I won’t ask you to wait in the car. I can’t believe they’re that snobby.” I paused and recalled how Caroline had acted at lunch. Maybe I could believe it, but there had to be others like Iris and Evie who were different. Still, I wouldn’t ask Giles to sit around while I sipped champagne and danced. “What happens if I forget something or need help?”
“Your father...bloody hell, I did it again. Pardon me, Mr. Belmond will be nearby, but there’s a simpler solution.”
I clutched a pillow to my chest and nodded.
“Keep a glass of champagne with you. Whenever you need to avoid someone or some question, take a drink and nod or smile.”
“That’s your advice?” I said flatly. I was going to make a mess of this. “I’ll just wind up drunk.”
“One thing I’ve learned about the wealthy is that they love to talk about themselves, let them. Your silence will be rewarded with all sorts of inane chatter. Being drunk is just a bonus,” he said with a shrug.
He continued on, giving me a rundown on the foods likely to be served and what Kerrigan might eat, the dancing, the drinks, the dazzling company. I was to spend the evening in the presence of politicians, aristocrat
s, and billionaires. This wasn’t some casual gathering at the local pub. This was a gala event.
“So, what are we celebrating?” I asked.
Giles frowned, puzzlement written over his face. “Your engagement, of course. Or Kerrigan’s, rather, but you take my point.”
“What?” I blurted out. “I thought I was meeting Spencer for the first time in years.”
“You are, but agreements have been reached.”
Images of handshakes and private meetings held in rooms filled with men and cigar smoke popped into my head. I’d bet that was close enough to what had happened.
“So he’s not going to propose?”
“I suppose he might, but he’s agreed to the arrangement as well.”
Something about that fact struck me. I’d been thinking a lot about how Kerrigan must be feeling, but now I realized Spencer had been dragged into this as well. After the encounter in the bathroom, I was certain he wasn’t looking for a wife out of necessity. It was a business arrangement, plain and simple.
“Why?” I pondered out loud.
“Pardon?” Giles called as he disappeared into the nearby ensuite bath. He returned carrying a silk robe.
I scrambled out of bed, hoping that getting up would clear my head. Slipping into the robe, I wrapped it around me, tying the belt tightly. Long kimono sleeves draped gracefully to my wrists, and I admired the elegant crane print of the fabric for a moment before I found the right way to posit my question. “Why does he need an arranged marriage? What does he get out of it?”
Mr. Belmond had been clear on his reasons for selling his daughter off to the Byrds. They had a title that would convey to her as well as her children someday. He was buying privilege and status and willing to pay with his daughter’s freedom.
“Like all aristocratic families, there’s never enough money,” Giles told me.
“They’re poor?” This surprised me, given the shop I’d met Caroline and Evie in yesterday.
“Not by any standards but their own,” Giles said dryly.
“Do I detect a hint of disdain?” I couldn’t help smiling. I doubted Giles could be this open with the real Kerrigan, but we were something more of equals—each of us being paid to perform services for the Belmond family.
“Perhaps,” he admitted before straightening his back, “but that’s not my place to say. The Byrds are very influential and they’re worth millions of dollars. A union with the Belmond name will give them more power.”
“How much power do they need?” I asked in exasperation.
“A man never has enough power if he senses there is more to be had.” Giles passed me the itinerary. “Do you need help picking your gown for tonight?”
I took a deep breath. “No. I want to try myself, but I would like your thoughts on my choices.”
“Very well.” He tipped his head. “In that case, I will leave you to it and check in on you when the facialist arrives.”
When he left the bedroom, I tip-toed to the closet, still feeling as though any minute someone might burst in and drag me off for being a fraud. I felt like a thief going through Kerrigan’s clothing and belongings.
“It’s part of the job,” I reminded myself as I poked around looking for how the mirrored doors opened. When I found the first one, I discovered another section filled with shoes. How many shoes did she need? Given that she used them to pick her daily outfit, I guessed a lot. The first thing I needed to do was know what I was working with. Walking the perimeter of the oddly-shaped room, I opened each door until I was staring at Kerrigan’s complete wardrobe. I’d expected to discover a lot of clothes, but it was mind-boggling how much was hiding behind those mirrors. Half of Harrods must be hanging in there and all of the clothing had been organized by color. I took a step back and surveyed the shoe sections. There had to be hundreds of shoes for me to choose from. No wonder she was able to start with her shoes.
I felt a bit like Cinderella as I picked up a pair of silver shoes with a heel so high it looked dangerous. I wasn’t sure which would be trickier to walk in—these shoes or glass slippers. Sliding it on my foot, I reached for the other shoe. Instantly, I was half a foot taller than before. I took a cautious step forward followed by another, surprised to discover they were much easier to walk in than I’d expected. Still, I suspected the unnatural height would make it impossible to last the evening wearing them. I studied my choices until I landed on a pair of impossibly beautiful heels. The sheer black fabric had been sculpted into a sensual silhouette, gathering ever so slightly at the heel. It looked like lingerie for feet, and I was in love. Their heels were slightly less extreme than the others. As soon as I slid them on, I understood why Kerrigan started with her shoes. No matter what I wore with them, I would feel sexy.
It turned out, though, that picking a dress that I felt equally enthralled with was impossible. Caroline wanted me to wear something bridal, which made sense now that I knew they were planning to announce our engagement this evening. But Kerrigan’s closet had very little white or ivory. There was a champagne gown that had an intricately beaded bodice studded with silver crystals as well as a number of black dresses ranging from cocktail length to full ball gown. None of them felt right. Because the truth was that no matter what I wore tonight, I was a liar. How could clothing cover up that?
What could I wear that would make me half as glamorous as Kerrigan Belmond? How could I step into her shoes?
Chapter Twelve
Iris discovered me half an hour later, sitting in a pool of silk, tulle, and sequins, near the point of tears. She stopped at the threshold of my closet and stared for a moment. Like me, she was wearing a silk robe but hers was a light gold color that brought out the natural luster of her dark skin.
“Kerrigan?” she called without moving. “May I come in?”
“Yes,” I said, choking back a sob. I didn’t want the first thing she told her husband to be that she’d found his daughter crying in her closet. “I’m sorry. I know I should have this sorted by now. I just can’t figure out what to wear. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Iris moved closer, gathered her robe carefully, and sank down across from me onto the floor. She looked around at the dozen dresses on the floor. “I see what you mean, but I think I know exactly what’s wrong.”
I blinked up at her, hoping she couldn’t see my watery eyes.
“Nerves,” she pronounced it like a doctor delivering a diagnosis. “Tod told me that your engagement is being announced tonight. Honestly, I was shocked. Did they warn you?”
I shook my head, not sure I trusted myself to speak.
“Things are moving more quickly than I expected,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll admit that I don’t quite understand this match. I didn’t even know people did things like this, but he assured me that you were on board.” She paused and met my eyes directly. “Kerrigan, you can tell me if you’re being forced to do this.”
I shot her a strained smile. “I did agree.” That wasn’t a lie, exactly. I’d known this was part of the arrangement, which made it easier to fudge the truth a little. “I suppose it’s all happening so fast. I thought I had a bit more time.”
“Listen, I know what happened,” she said in a lowered voice. “I know why you left, and I think you did the right thing for you, but it’s not too late to change your mind.”
That definitely was not part of my arrangement with Tod Belmond, but her words struck me as odd. Kerrigan’s father had admitted that she had run away from her duties. He’d assured me that she just needed more time, but what had scared her so badly in the first place?
And what happened if she didn’t come home?
What would they do? I’d promised a year. Nothing more. I’d even signed a contract. I was under no obligation to continue to be Kerrigan Belmond, but what would happen in a year if she hadn’t returned?
“I’m sorry.” Iris interrupted my thoughts. “I think I’m making this worse. I should—”
I reached ou
t and grabbed her hand. Clutching it, I told the truth. “I’m scared about tonight—scared that I’ll mess everything up and disappoint...my father. I’m scared Caroline will be nastier than she was at lunch. But mostly, I’m just afraid of what happens next.”
“You’ll never disappoint him,” she promised softly. “I may not understand why your father is pushing through this marriage, but I know he loves you more than anything.”
“Not more than you!”
She laughed at this, smiling warmly. “Definitely more than me, and that’s okay, he should. A father should love his daughter more than anything in the world.”
I found myself wishing I knew that kind of love. I couldn’t admit that to her, so I returned her smile and forced myself to take a deep breath. “They’re going to have their work cut out for them making me pretty.”
My skin always got splotchy and red when I cried. I could only imagine how I looked now after a panic attack and a night without sleep.
“You’re going to look gorgeous,” Iris said firmly. “Now let’s figure out a dress.”
“I don’t have anything bridal,” I told her miserably.
She arched an eyebrow.
“Sorry, Caroline wanted me to wear ivory or white, remember? It feels like she wants to send a message,” I explained to her.
“That woman is a bit too opinionated for my taste,” Iris said in a voice that made it clear what she thought of Caroline Byrd. “You should wear what you want.”
“I have no idea what I want,” I admitted. None of this was mine. Yesterday, Giles had transformed me into Kerrigan. I’d spent the day feeling like I was in someone else’s skin. It hadn’t been what I expected. I hadn’t felt bad or even wrong, just not like myself. But not in a bad way.
“Well, none of these,” she decided. Standing, she reached down to offer a hand. I accepted it gratefully. Following at her heels she bypassed the neutral gowns I’d been looking and at went straight to a rack filled with bold shades of red.