A Ravishing Beauty in Disguise: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Emily Honeyfield

  “I wish to ask you about your living situation here at the home of the Marquess,” Harriet blared.

  The servant’s lower lip jutted out. “If you don’t have any needs, Madame, then please understand that I must return to my work. It’s terribly necessary that I uphold the utmost protection and comfort for the rest of the members of this grand event. It is my duty, as one of the highest in command at the Marquess’s household.”

  “Tell me. How do you feel about the way in which the Marquess has come to such power?” Harriet demanded.

  “It really isn’t my duty to understand how the Marquess operates his business affairs,” the servant said. Now, his tone seemed darker, foreboding. “And I dare say it shouldn’t be your duty, either. Such a beautiful woman as yourself? You should be on the floor, dancing with a suitor.”

  “I don’t wish to busy myself with such silly endeavours. Not when there’s so much work to do,” Harriet returned.

  The servant gaped at her for a long moment. He swung his head to the left and the right, peering down into the depths of her soul. Harriet took a tiny step towards him, so that her nose was no more than three inches from his.

  “Now. Tell me this, sir. How are your living arrangements? Is he feeding you? Does he ever belittle you? Where do you sleep? Are you allowed time off to see your family?”

  The servant inhaled deeply. It was clear that he wasn’t allowed to create any sort of distress amongst the visitors to the Marquess’s home. For this, Harriet felt only a jolt of guilt. She felt she was digging into the greater psyche of the Marquess and needed to know more prior to taking action. She set her jaw, then added, “The sooner you answer my questions, the sooner I will leave you alone.”

  Chapter 8

  “Oh dear. There she is,” Thomas muttered, shoving his elbow into William’s side.

  “Who?” William asked. His champagne glass nearly tumbled to the ground with the ferocity of Thomas’ nudge. He felt like a strange dressed-up penguin, with swells of the Marquess’ ballroom orchestra cupping his ears. It had been years since he’d been surrounded with such finery, and sweat bubbled up on his neck, his lower lip, at his brow. He ached to be anywhere else.

  “I knew she’d be here. But I didn’t imagine she’d look so … so beautiful,” Thomas continued. “William, I could have had her. I basically did have her! And then, I hate to say it, but …”

  “Thomas. Please remember that I’ve been gone a very long time.” William sighed. “Whatever happened last year, the year before that … I probably don’t know about it.”

  “Right. Well. Last year, I was courting this woman named Tatiana. There she is now, next to her wretched friend Ursula.”

  William forced his eyes across the crowd, watching as the woman Thomas surely spoke of glanced toward them, then tore her eyes away immediately. Her face turned to a scowl as she muttered to the woman beside her. They looked like pack animals, preparing to attack.

  “I think I see her,” William said. “What did you do? You said you hate to say it, but …”

  “Maybe I should speak with her,” Thomas said. He stroked his beard and allowed his eyes to dance back and forth. He looked like a child, preparing to craft some sort of scheme. “There’s no harm in it, is there? I left her for Sarah, but then Sarah left me. Perhaps that means that we could just have a big laugh about all of this, no? It’s a funny thing, this life. We’re all just fighting for courtship with the right person. But there’s never any way to tell who the right person is. Oh, my! Look at who just approached Tatiana!”

  William returned his eyes to the women to find a familiar sight. His heart gave a sad, subtle jolt, one that felt nostalgic, yet tired. A beautiful, older version of Zelda stood beside Tatiana and Ursula, her shoulders delicate and glowing beneath soft, angelic blonde hair. She let out a small, yet restrained laugh to something Tatiana said. The action felt forced, as though she’d already noticed his arrival and was pretending to be having a better time than she actually was.

  “I suppose we better approach them together,” William murmured.

  “I don’t know if I have the strength for it,” Thomas returned.

  “It was your idea!”

  “I have many ideas. But none of them are good,” Thomas said.

  “Come along.” William sighed. He grabbed Thomas’ elbow, drawing him through the swirling crowd. Another song had begun, causing several couples to part, their two pieces of a greater puzzle departing to opposite sides of the ballroom. At this, Renata hopped across the floor—her eyes nearly swallowing William whole as he approached.

  “Look, Zelda!” Renata cried, lurching towards her sister. “It’s Lord Abernale!”

  It was only now, feet away from her, that Zelda brought her eyes to William’s. In that action, William felt the deflation of all the time that had passed between this moment and those long-ago ones, when they had felt like a united force for a beautiful future together. Now, she looked at him without an ounce of longing. She swallowed. He watched the skin grow taut beneath her chin.

  “Hello, Zelda. Renata,” William said. He could feel the masculinity, the richness of his own voice. Such a contrast to the wide-eyed 18-year-old who’d left them behind.

  “You look quite handsome, William,” Renata said, her voice like bubbles.

  “And the two of you are beautiful, as usual. Perhaps more so,” William returned. “I don’t suppose you already know my good friend, Lord Thomas Manfred?”

  Thomas bowed his head towards Tatiana, seemingly trying to make eye contact with her. She refused.

  “I believe we’ve met,” Ursula said, her voice icy.

  “How was your trip back from Glasgow?” Zelda asked. Her tone was difficult to read. It lacked friendliness, yet also wasn’t a brick wall like Ursula’s.

  “It was uneventful,” William said.

  After this, however, William had absolutely no idea how to proceed. Zelda looked at him as though she was expecting him to produce something—an apology, perhaps, or some assurance that she’d been on his mind all those years (when, of course, this couldn’t be further from the truth).

  “How’ve you been?” Thomas asked now, directing it towards Tatiana.

  Meanwhile, Renata had begun to chatter about someone called Hayward, forcing Zelda’s attention back towards her. William took a slight step back. Suddenly, he felt the air thick with sweat, difficult to inhale.

  He moved away from the strange group of sisters, of angry ex-lovers, of Thomas, and directed himself back towards the drink table. He swept the back of his hand across his forehead, drawing up sweat. He reached for a glass of champagne, slammed it down his throat, and then followed with another.

  Behind him, the music from the orchestra seemed almost too loud, almost arrogant. Partners swirled around one another, their eyes captivated only on the other. William felt strangely invisible in their midst. He wished he could blink his eyes and appear back in Glasgow, where he understood the rules, where he didn’t have to wear such a stuffy evening suit.

  William walked towards the side of the ballroom, his eyes shimmering across the crowd. Someone had appeared beside Zelda—a handsome, if a bit older gentleman—and was currently whispering in her ear. She blushed in a manner that reminded William of the old days when he’d acted similarly and produced that result. His heart felt nothing: not a stitch of jealousy.

  That’s when he heard it.

  A brash, insistent whisper. A wild woman, attacking someone. He turned his head quickly to the right, watching as a brunette in a light green dress sidled up close to a servant, her nose just a few inches from his, and her voice breathy and strange.

  “Come along, Hector. You really need to tell me. I won’t stop asking until you give me something. Anything. I need to understand the Marquess. And don’t you understand? If you help me, you’ll be helping everyone else on the staff. You’ll be helping all of London! I just need to know what makes this man tick …”

  “Need I remind yo
u, Madame, that you are currently drinking the champagne that the Marquess offered to you. You are currently at the party that he invited you to. Don’t you think your enjoyment of all of this is a bit of a blockage on your mission?” the servant asked, without an ounce of kindness.

  It was clear that the woman had been pestering him for some time.

  “You don’t understand, Hector. I’ve recently realised that the world is a very cruel, very wretched place—” the woman began.

  “Oh? Have you recently realised that?” Hector demanded. “My. I suppose it must take women like you a bit longer, what with your ability to just float along on your father’s title. Please, tell me how your struggling has affected you.”

  The sarcasm in the servant’s voice made a smile twitch up on William’s face. He paused in his march past the woman, then reared back, blinking into the face of the servant. The servant immediately formed a different expression on his face, one that showed William that he was willing and able to do anything that William requested.

  But instead, William spoke to the woman. “Darling, I don’t suppose you left my pocketbook back at home, did you?”

  The woman turned her head quickly towards William. Her cheeks flushed pink. After a long, strange gap in time, she flashed a sure smile. With a jolt, William recognised her as none other than Lady Harriet Arnold, the cousin of Renata and Zelda. She was a full 11 years older than she’d been previously: clearly a bit crazy, wild with an anger that she’d created within herself about the nature of the world. This was very much in-tune with William.

  “Why don’t we check?” William said, his voice a bit softer with recognition. “If you don’t mind, sir.”

  He spoke now to the servant, who bowed his head in return. “Whatever you wish. I must return to my duties. Good evening.”

  William cupped Harriet’s elbow. She allowed him to lead her towards the back of the room, past the table of champagne glasses. As they walked, she gripped the stem of one and tugged it along with her, her eyes glossy.

  “He wouldn’t answer me,” she muttered. “I know he’s in denial. Or he isn’t willing to speak to someone like me. I am privileged, and I know that. But I’m trying to do something. Anything. I can’t afford to just sit around and wait for the world to change anymore.”

  William’s heart thumped wildly. He blinked several times, unable to be sure if what she said had grown out of his own head, just something he’d imagined. They paused at the doorway, where Harriet closed her eyes and sipped a few more morsels of champagne.

  “I really should be going,” she murmured. “I have so much to do.”

  “Oh? More servants to accost?” William asked.

  “Who are you?” Harriet demanded then. But even as she formed the words, her eyes grew into orbs. “Oh, my goodness. I know precisely who you are. How silly of me! You’re William. William Abernale. Aren’t you?”

  “The very same,” William returned. He was surprised at how much he relished hearing his own name come from her lips.

  “I didn’t … well. I’d heard you were coming back, but I didn’t imagine I would see you so soon. I think I spotted you a few Christmases ago, at my cousins’. But I don’t suppose we got the chance to chat. Not that you ever wanted to speak to a little girl like me. I was so much younger than you. Some memories I have—you were probably 15 years old, and I wasn’t yet 10. Funny to think back. Although I have to admit, I thought you were gone for good. Making your way through Scotland. Saving the world.”

  “Is that what you thought? That I was saving the world?” William asked. He took a slight step towards her, suddenly intoxicated from the sight of her eyes.

  “Well, that’s what they’re always saying, aren’t they? That you went to law school because you’re idealistic. That you have plans of chucking off your title, everything you’ve ever known … And yet here you are. At the Marquess’ party.”

  “A party you seem very set on ruining, I suppose,” William said.

  “It’s not that,” Harriet said. A little, quirky wrinkle formed between her eyebrows. “Perhaps it sounds silly, especially coming from me. It’s not as though I studied the law, or even really understand the goings-on of this world. But …”

  The song from the orchestra came to a halt, making its parade of dancers turn and clap their hands wildly. With a surge of adrenaline, William formed his lips around the words, “I don’t suppose you’d like to share a dance with me? It’s been ages since I did such a thing. I imagine I’ll step all over your shoes if you say yes.”

  Harriet’s eyes flashed back towards the crowd. William wondered who she was looking for. Perhaps she already had a suitor at the ball, someone hunting for her whilst she pestered the servant.

  “I would love to dance with you,” she said, her words hesitant. “Although I must admit, I don’t want to get in the way of you and Zelda. I’m told she’s incredibly excited about your return.”

  William drew himself to his greatest height. How could he possibly verbalise just how little he cared for the current version of Zelda without coming off like an imbecile? He just shook his head, finally uttering, “Zelda doesn’t seem to have the greatest interest in me. Nor I of her. I believe it’s all these years between us. We’re essentially strangers.”

  “I suppose you and I are strangers, as well,” Harriet said.

  “And does that bother you?” William asked.

  “In fact, it thrills me. I feel I’ve had the same three conversations with the same five people for the past 11 years. I’m sure if you’d been amongst them, I would be tired of you, as well. But as it stands, I’m not. Shall we dance?”

  William led Harriet onto the dance floor, squaring them off near the centre, beneath the twinkling chandelier. From his height, he could view much of the crowd around him—Zelda paired off with the older gentleman he didn’t recognise, Renata once more with that blundering man named Hayward, and even Thomas, standing alongside Tatiana, who was smiling, perhaps in spite of herself.

  The music swelled up. William brought one hand across the small of Harriet’s back and watched as she slipped her tender fingers along his other palm. His spine shivered from top to bottom. They spun into the dance, one that felt both familiar and not.

  William remembered learning it perhaps 15 years before when he’d been told that courting would make up a great deal of the next portion of his life. As it stood, he’d largely skipped over it, yet he couldn’t fully care. He didn’t see that Thomas, Zelda, Renata, or Harriet were any better off to have lived through all of its treachery.

  “What’s on your mind?” Harriet asked him then, her green eyes digging into him, “I feel as though you’re far, far away.”

  “Terribly sorry. I’m only just thinking back to my last ball,” William said. “I was perhaps 19, back from Glasgow briefly to see Zelda. I remember promising her something. Something I never should have said if I wasn’t fully certain.”

  “Oh?” Harriet said. “And yet, why are men and women meant to be sure of anything at 19 years old? I know it was only four years ago for me, but if I think back to my priorities, my blood runs cold.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. And yet I look at her and still feel wave after wave of guilt,” William said.

  Harriet glanced in the direction of Zelda. Both peered at her for a second, watching as she tossed her curls, her eyes dancing. Whoever she danced with seemed to thrill her in ways William simply couldn’t, now.

  “I think people find ways to move forward, regardless.” Harriet sighed. “That is, if you have the equipment to move forward. If you have the funds …”

  “Ah. So, we’re back to your mission,” William said.

  “I was always directing the conversation back to where I wanted it to be. It’s simply my way,” Harriet said, her tone argumentative, yet still teasing. “You must understand that, after all the papers and speeches you must have had to give at university. All those points you had to argue.”