A Ravishing Beauty in Disguise: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Emily Honeyfield

  Harriet felt William’s presence somewhere behind her, as though he’d added a weight to her conscious mind. When she passed through the door, she walked towards her normal chair—the chair she’d traditionally sat on for every dinner party, every family function. Upon the wood, a single red rose had been splayed.

  Harriet glanced towards William, finding his eyes upon her. He gave her a delicious grin. Not wanting to capture anyone’s attention, Harriet snatched the rose from the top of the chair and brought it over her lap, beneath the tablecloth. Her fingers toyed with the sharp thorns. The pain made the panic and pleasure grow increasingly wild in her head. How could she possibly press through this dinner party like all the others—say all the proper things, smile at the right times? She felt manic, free, on unchartered land.

  Throughout dinner, William and Harriet made eye contact several times. Harriet was much quieter than usual, but she was grateful that no one seemed to notice. Renata had taken her stance as head of the party, altering the conversation when things grew too boring or too political.

  Harriet’s inner fears caused her to struggle to eat. She toyed with her potatoes, turning them about her plate. Zelda watched her with tiny eyes, seemingly assessing her every move. Harriet recalled their previous conversation at the market and wondered if Zelda suspected anything between her and William. Had she seen the rose?

  Dessert arrived—a variety of biscuits and macaroons, served with another helping of sweet wines. Around her, party guests dipped their biscuits into their wines, sipped heartily. Their words grew wilder and less articulate, almost comical.

  Harriet sipped her wine, feeling unable to eat another morsel. Renata’s insistence that everyone finish quickly and retreat to the sitting room for a round of games filled Harriet with a sense of dread. Her eyes turned towards Zelda’s, and it seemed that they arrived at a sort of conclusion: retreat.

  “I think I’m going to take a wander outside,” Zelda announced to Renata as they exited the room.

  Renata’s face looked stricken. “Why on earth would you do that? The games are only just beginning.”

  “I think I’ll take a wander, as well,” Harriet affirmed. “The stars are so beautiful this time of night. I told myself I wouldn’t miss them.”

  Hayward leaped up to Renata, drawing his hand across the small of her back. Renata looked as though she might melt into glue at their feet. She blinked doe eyes up at him.

  “I think we can do all right without them, darling,” Hayward said, assuring her.

  “It’s only that I—I planned these games with everyone in mind …” Renata sighed, sounding like a child.

  “Yes, but you know you can’t force anyone,” Hayward said, with both the reproach of a father and the kindness of a lover. “You know that.”

  Renata stumbled closer against him. Zelda stepped around them, turning her head towards the back door. Harriet raced after her, escaping. Renata’s laughter rang out behind them as proof she’d already forgotten.

  “She’ll get us back for that one day,” Zelda said, creaking the garden door closed behind them.

  “Oh, absolutely. When we least expect it,” Harriet agreed, giggling. “She really is trying her hand at being a lady of the house, isn’t she? Do you think Hayward is buying it?”

  “I think Hayward would buy anything she gave him,” Zelda said, snickering. “He seems just as smitten with her as she is with him.” After a pause, she added, “And it’s beautiful to see, really. I haven’t known Renata to fall so hard before. It’s like a schoolgirl crush.”

  “Isn’t that what anything is?” Harriet murmured. “Everything is just as intense as it always was. We’re just carrying these bodies around, ageing. But the heart—it doesn’t change.”

  “How philosophical of you,” Zelda said. She tipped her elbow into Harriet’s side and cast her head back, allowing her blonde hair to fall freely behind her.

  “Don’t tease me. I’m only saying what’s on my mind,” Harriet said.

  “Oh, darling. If you think for a second I won’t tease you, then you’re even more out of your mind than I thought.”

  Harriet allowed her eyes to pour into the darkness above, to count the bright dots. Inside, there was an uproar from the party. The game seemed volatile, creating within it fake-enemies amongst friends. Harriet was grateful not to be amongst the chaos. She reached for Zelda’s hand and squeezed it. Zelda allowed her hand to fall almost immediately, which made Harriet take several steps forward, almost embarrassed. Was she exhibiting too much emotion?

  “Hey, Zelda?” Harriet tried, whispering the words into the night. “I have a question.”

  When Zelda gave her only silence in return, Harriet continued, “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done in your life?”

  Again, there was silence for a long moment. Harriet felt the creep of Zelda’s feet beside her, aligning herself with her. After another pause, words broke out into the night—yet they were not Zelda’s words.

  Instead, they boomed out with a certainty and a masculinity that put Harriet’s hair on-end.

  “The craziest thing I’ve ever done?” William said. “That’s quite a question, isn’t it?”

  Harriet was unable to speak. She dropped her head to the side, gazing at William’s perfect profile against the moonlight. Her throat felt parched, dry. She drew her fingers across it and whispered, “What are you doing out here? Surely someone will suspect …”

  William’s eyes glowed. “Zelda and I crafted a bit of a plot, I’m afraid. I hope it’s not against your will.”

  “A plot?” Harriet’s eyebrows furrowed together. Her heart leapt.

  “Since everyone saw you leave with Zelda in the first place, no one will be the wiser.” He gave her a slight shrug.

  Harriet turned slightly to see that Zelda had distanced herself a great deal from them. Her face gazed hungrily at the black sky above. Again, Harriet reminded herself that this was a part of Zelda’s greater plot: to ensure that William was “taken,” to allow Zelda space to be with the one she truly loved.

  “I see,” Harriet murmured, arching her brow. After a pause, she felt her smile broaden. “Thank you for the flower, William. It’s beautiful. Even if it was a bit risky, in front of the others …”

  “You know you really are stunning, Harriet,” William murmured, ignoring her comment. “Especially under the light of the moon.”

  “That’s so poetic. Did you read that somewhere?” Harriet said, her voice lilting, teasing him.

  “Just close your eyes, won’t you?” William returned.

  “Why?” Harriet said. “I won’t be able to see all these stunning stars …”

  “I know it’s difficult for you to be told what to do,” William whispered. “But I need you to do it for me. Just this once.”

  Harriet pressed her lips together and then allowed her eyelashes to fall, projecting her into her own darkness. Her shoulders drooped. She hadn’t a clue what would happen next.

  She felt William draw a bit closer to her. Somehow, she felt she could hear the wild beating of his heart, within his chest. His enormous hands found her frame—one positioned at the top of her shoulder, one at the base of her back. Slowly, he dropped his lips upon hers.

  They were warm and comforting, thick and wet. Harriet’s knees fell out beneath her, causing her to drop against him. A soft moan escaped her lips. She couldn’t control herself, couldn't control the wild, volatile beating of her heart.

  With the stars glowing above them; with Williams hand gripping her lower back, Harriet felt unlike the woman she’d been even an hour before. She was endlessly entranced.

  Finally, the kiss broke. Harriet bit down on her lower lip and opened her eyes, feeling as though she was about to see a far different world than the one she’d left just before the kiss. William gazed down at her with a strange level of certainty. Harriet felt sure he would kiss her again, given the opportunity. But a moment’s pause made her open her lips, speak.
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br />   “Don’t you think we should go back inside?” she murmured, hating the fear within her own voice.

  “Is that what you want?” he asked her.

  “I’m just anxious that they’ll suspect something,” Harriet returned.

  “Do you always try to conceal so much about yourself from your peers?” William asked. The hand on her lower back dug deeper into her skin. It felt as though he was trying to claim her.

  “You know the rules of this world,” Harriet murmured. “You know we have to uphold propriety…”

  “And yet, something about you tells me you’ve never been one to care much about those sorts of things,” he said.

  At this, he dotted his lips at the very tip of her nose and took a slight step back. Harriet nearly lost her footing as William dropped his hands to his side. For a long, strange moment, Harriet felt an urgency to tell him all the reasons she couldn’t possibly care for him the way he wanted her to. But all the words sounded so flat on her tongue.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” William said, his voice lilting, “I would really not like to miss any more of this incredibly important game.”

  William extended his elbow, allowing Harriet to snake her arm through it. She felt as though she sleep-walked alongside him. She blinked several times, still seeing stars and black splotches as she walked. Once they arrived near the doorway, Zelda darted towards them, giving Harriet a delicious grin. It was clear she was privy to what had just occurred and couldn’t wait to pick Harriet’s mind about it later.

  Once inside, not a single creature seemed aware that the three of them had been gone. Hayward was in the midst of an argument with Ursula regarding the rules of the game, and Renata ambled up behind Hayward, her cheeks glowing. Drama made the air in the room taut. Harriet slid herself into a corner chair, pressing her hands together. She felt lost in a sea of emotions.

  At some point, Renata forced her into the game, and Harriet felt herself going through the motions of it—frequently messing up her team’s strategy. All the while, she felt William’s eyes heavy upon her. Each time she made a mistake, she turned her eyes towards him, catching him chuckle. She snorted with laughter as well, feeling as though they were both in on a joke that neither of them could explain.

  Hours later, Harriet found herself at the edge of her bed, still fully dressed. She gripped the rose William had given her, twirling it around her fingers, feeling the thorns stick into her skin. After a moment, she felt the wetness of her own blood, oozing from her first finger towards her palm. Immediately, she brought the finger to her lips and sucked and sucked the cut, her eyes growing bleary with the pain.

  Harriet’s initial feelings for William were becoming more difficult to manage, especially now that she had pressure from both Zelda and William himself. When it had just been her, swimming in a sea of emotions, she’d been allowed to pretend they weren’t worthy of attention.

  Now, with his increased affection, how was she meant to repel him? Everything within her body ached for him. Even her breasts felt heavy; the space between her thighs was hungry for him. Her mind flirted with images of them together, stripping their clothes from one another’s frames, revealing their glowing bodies beneath.

  But in the midst of her reverie, Harriet forced herself to remember her true mission.

  Out there in the stirring darkness of London, children were starving to death. Beggar women were curled up at church staircases, aching for a single good day. Rich people stole from the poor, and the world grew increasingly chaotic and wretched. As far as she knew, she was the only person in the world who cared about such a thing.

  (Of course, she and this new thief—of which she had still very little information.)

  Harriet flung herself back on the mattress, stretching her fingers across her stomach. She ached with an impossibility, a yearning for a future with William.

  And yet—with this, she thought again of children. Of Oliver.

  What on earth was happening on the streets south of the Thames? Why had those lurking men stolen Oliver’s money? How could they be so frankly immoral, especially when it came to the needs of children?

  With a renewed sense of self, Harriet undressed and donned her nightgown. Once more, she wrote in her diary—leaving out anything regarding her brewing emotions for William. Perhaps if she didn’t acknowledge them in writing, they would simply seep out of her heart, giving her more space and time to fight the wrongs of London.

  Chapter 20

  Thomas agreed to the nightcap at William’s after the dinner party, but only after he busied himself off to the side of the Arnolds’ porch, whispering sweet nothings into the ear of Tatiana. William switched his weight near the carriage, turning his eyes towards the road.

  Harriet had already retreated with her mother and father, hardly lending him a glance or a wave goodbye. In her hand, she’d held onto the red rose. But what was this an indication of? Did it mean that she simply didn’t want to throw out the rose—which would have been rude? Or did it mean that she wanted to keep it as a token of their first kiss?

  Was that kiss to be their last kiss?

  “Will! Hey!” Thomas’ voice echoed in William’s ear, pulling him back to reality.

  William blinked at him, and then stretched a smile between his cheeks. “There you are. Have you said all the necessary goodbyes?”

  “For the time being, yes,” Thomas said, his voice sarcastic. He leaned closer to William’s ear to whisper, “I really think I’ve got her back this time. She seems dizzy with it. I reckon I can make a marriage proposal within the month.”

  William clapped his hand atop Thomas’ shoulder. Thomas’ eyes were glittery with drink. He led Thomas to his carriage and watched as he stumbled up the steps. William gave a half-turn back to the porch, where he found Zelda’s eyes peering back at him. He gave her a firm wave. She returned it. He felt they were conspirators regarding Harriet, although both understood that she was far more complex than they could fully comprehend. “She’s a difficult one to read,” he’d whispered to Zelda earlier that evening. “I don’t know if she cares for me at all. Although I have to suspect …”

  “She must,” Zelda had returned. “We must coax her towards you. I know it’s what she wants. She has only to acknowledge it.”

  In the recent month, William had secured himself a separate home for himself, to ensure he wasn’t stepping on the toes of his mother, his sister, or his father. The home was two-storey and brick, with its own stables in the back, along with a rose garden. Although William had had very little time to decorate the place, when he stepped into the foyer and found his butler waiting, he was overwhelmed with a sense of joy and gratefulness. It was marvellous to call his own space a home.

  William led Thomas into the study and watched as his friend burst into the chair, collecting his fingers across his stomach. It seemed he was far too drunk to manage his own weight. William poured them both small glasses of Scotch, careful not to overfill. He and Thomas clinked glasses. Thomas’ face took on a sombre nature.

  “I do hope she marries me,” he said, tilting his head. “I really can’t envision another life for myself just now. I—I have to believe it’s her and me, me and her. Forever.”

  “Don’t put all your eggs in a single basket, Thomas,” William said, leaning heavily against the desk. “You know that ends up in heartbreak.”

  “Not this time,” Thomas said. He clucked his tongue and forced his eyes back towards William. William had an idea that Thomas wouldn’t have any memory of this conversation the following day.

  Perhaps that gave him an element of freedom.

  “What about you, then?” Thomas said. “I seem to—to sense something going on between you and the cousin Arnold. You know. The brunette.”