Beth and the Mistaken Identity Read online

‘Who, pray, is Aggie?’

  ‘A chambermaid,’ said the marquis, as though shocked at the princess’s ignorance.

  Beth raised her eyebrows at him.

  ‘Well, if you are going to walk with a maid, you may as well walk with me,’ said Emmeline, noting the teasing, but ignoring it. ‘I can put off some of my engagements.’

  ‘Pray do not. And if I were to walk with you, we would be accosted at every turn.’

  The princess sighed and said breezily, ‘I am frightfully fashionable.’ Beth grinned at her. If only she could see them as her friends from the Hall, or her own jesting family, she could relax. Actually, the teasing tone between the brother and sister was quite inviting.

  ‘I shall supply her with books, have no fear,’ said the marquis, attacking his ham.

  ‘And will you be at home? I should not leave her here if you are…’

  ‘Aggie shall accompany her in the library,’ said the marquis primly, highlighting the name, which made Beth look at him, quelling his teasing. ‘All the proprieties shall be met.’ The marquis turned to Beth. ‘Does Aggie read? Must I supply her with books too in contrition for forgetting her name?’

  She frowned him down as though he were but a footman at the board in the Hall. ‘I do not know if she reads, but it would certainly be kind if you did.’

  ‘Well I suppose there are some picture books somewhere if she does not know her letters.’

  ‘If she does not read she will have work to get on with, no doubt.’

  ‘Stitching? Poor work. You have convinced me that my staff should do nothing but read. I shall see to their education.’ He said this in the same teasing tone and was shocked to encounter one of Beth’s sharp looks.

  ‘Education is not the subject of jests. It might amaze you how much your servants would appreciate it.’

  The princess broke in. ‘But how then would our furniture be polished or our dinners be cooked?’ she said, with a laugh. Since Beth had begun to drop her guard with her hosts, her face displayed her displeasure at this.

  To appease her, the marquis said, smiling in her direction, ‘I’m sure many servants might be capable of both.’

  ‘What are you two about?’ said Emmeline, pouting. ‘You seem to have jests I have no notion of.’

  ‘It is only that I was forward enough to reveal my shock that the marquis does not know the names of his own household.’

  ‘Well, what about it?’ said Emmeline, smiling at the footman who served her a roll. ‘I daresay he has a hundred servants in his houses, and so very many leave, you know.’

  ‘Not Aggie. She has been here for a full four years, though she has been above stairs only in the last year.’

  ‘You are a very strange girl. How can you know so much about a servant in but two days?’

  Beth was too annoyed to avoid answering, ‘By asking her!’

  ‘If that surprises you Emmi, you would be shocked at the subject of our meeting last night,’ Wrexham said, amused.

  ‘Yes. Neither of you have told me what occurred, beyond the good news that Beth is staying until the Horescombes return.’

  ‘Well —’ the marquis caught Beth’s eyes again, and nodded the servants from the room. ‘Beth has organised my entire household. I have dismissed the butler, and promoted a footman.’

  ‘Dow gone? Well, I can’t say I liked him, though I was never sure why. Rather more — oily than Wright. And a footman in his place? But isn’t there Frost, the under-butler?’

  The marquis glanced at Beth. ‘You must be pleased to know that my sister remembers some of our servants’ names.’ The he turned back to his sister. ‘Miss Fox feels that Frost might have been infected by Dow’s ways, and suggested George.’

  ‘Infected — George?’ said Emmeline, looking from one to the other, then settling on Beth. ‘What on earth can you know about George?’

  Beth was at a loss to construct an answer, but the marquis answered wickedly, ‘she met him at midnight in the library!’

  ‘Beth!’ shrieked Emmeline, the duenna.

  Beth looked repressively at the marquis and answered. ‘Your brother is being deliberately provocative. It is only that I went to the library for a book on the first evening, and George the footman entered the library afterwards.’

  ‘She caught him stealing the brandy! And then she got him to tell her about the upset in the household since Wright retired.’

  ‘Dear Wright!’ Then the princess focused, ‘Stealing the …? And you reward him with promotion?’

  ‘Miss Fox will explain.’

  ‘No, no! I prefer to remain in ignorance,’ said the princess unexpectedly. ‘Let me tell you instead about my proposed meeting with Annabel Moreley! It is the biggest scandal of the season…’

  After breakfast, on their way to their rooms to freshen up, the princess caught Beth’s arm, and leaned into her confidingly.

  ‘Forget what I said to you about going too far, my dear. I now see that you are the perfect wife for Wrexham. See how you make him laugh?’ Beth made a sound of protest. ‘I feared you too young before, but now I see you will be able to manage the household admirably. Do not get too close to the servants, however, my dear. Over-familiarity leads to laxity, my mama told me.’

  There was so much in this little speech to object to, so much to be embarrassed by, so much to correct, that Beth hardly knew where to start. ‘Your brother reminds me of mine, he cannot pass an opportunity to tease.’

  ‘You have a brother, then? Might I know him?’

  Beth, startled at giving more away than she meant, could not help laughing at this. ‘No, he is a little younger than me, and remains in the country.’

  ‘I hope I shall meet him one day, dear Beth.’

  Beth smiled at her, rather sadly. ‘I do not think you ever will.’

  Wrexham was at his club when his friend, the Earl of Grandiston joined him, and they settled down to a game of cards à deux. The earl was as elegant as ever, and beyond making a disparaging mark on Wrexham’s shirt points (not as stiff as his lordship standards demanded) he opted to forgo talking to play cards.

  ‘You seem a little distrait, Wrexham, not your usual gregarious self.’

  Wrexham gave this sally a twisted smile. Gregarious could never describe him. ‘I have a problem.’

  ‘I am ever at your disposal, but I thought your fortune more intact than most.’

  The marquis gave the joke another smile. ‘It is a problem of another sort at all.’

  ‘Ah, a woman!’

  Wrexham raised his brows. ‘How did you guess?’

  The earl dealt the cards and said dryly, ‘There are only two sorts of problems in this world, Wrexham. Money and women.’

  ‘Well, you cannot help me my friend. You are too happy with your beautiful countess to understand me. How is Lady Grandiston, by the way?’

  ‘Oriana is blooming. Our second child is due any day. I would not have left her, but she had her particular friends to visit and they wished to discuss me, so I was ejected from my own home.’

  Wrexham discarded two cards and said, ‘Your second child! You are blessed.’

  ‘I am.’ Grandiston met his eyes, ‘but there is always the fear—’ Wrexham looked his sympathy. ‘But I am come to my club for distraction. So tell me what your problem with women is. You should be married by now, anyway.’

  ‘All men who are married seek to rob me of my bachelorhood, I find.’

  Grandiston grinned. ‘You avoid the subject. If you think you cannot confide in me, Toby, I shall question our friendship.’

  ‘Some of it I cannot disclose, as affecting not my honour, but that of another.’

  ‘Oh don’t tell me Emmi is in hot water again after being so new to town. That girl was always the most outrageous young minx…’

  ‘No, it is not Emmi. And you shouldn’t speak thus of your social superiors.’

  Grandiston grinned again. ‘Apologise to Her Highness for me. I jumped to conclusions, based on previous ex
perience.’

  ‘Are you referring to the gossip about my sister’s adventures? Simply old wives’ chatterings.’

  ‘Remember it was me who helped you push her through her room window before your mother realised she was not abed, the night of the Faversham’s Masked Ball.’

  ‘What a girl she was. But she is a sober princess these days.’

  ‘I doubt it. You are still avoiding the question. What troubles you? Let me guess: some tall, blond, cool beauty has you in her toils.’

  ‘No. But why should you think that?’

  ‘Do you not know that that is your type? I have seen you with countless women fitting that description in these last five years.’ He raised one eyebrow. ‘And do not think that your excessive admiration of my Oriana has gone unnoticed.’

  ‘I would have lain my heart at her feet if she would have had me. But unaccountably she preferred you.’

  Grandiston smiled smugly. ‘Yes she did. So what is your problem?’

  ‘A little dab of a girl, whom Emmi is helping—’

  ‘Yes?’ encouraged Grandiston, when he paused.

  ‘She does not fawn at me. That is the first thing. She is not shy of me, not in the way I am used to—’ he paused. ‘I am aware that I sound like a coxcomb. But you know, Grandiston.’

  ‘Yes, shy and afraid of your glamour, or pushing and flirting. I remember being an eligible parti. It could get quite exhausting.’

  ‘She is shy, but about the position she is in — which I cannot enlighten you about — not about any awareness of me as an eligible man. And she tells me off when she thinks I behave badly, and then is embarrassed that she has opened her mouth.’ He laid down his cards. ‘I cannot say why I find that so enticing. And then, she looks sometimes like a little wren with a broken wing, and I feel I need to — to —’ Wrexham was stunned that he’d talked so much, and met Grandiston’s eye. ‘I have only known her a scant three days, and I must be careful not to raise expectations I cannot meet.’

  ‘That is not everything you should be careful about,’ said Grandiston. Watching him.

  ‘But she seems not to have any expectations, else she would not challenge me as she does. She does not flatter me, and I find it so refreshing. She is young, but somehow not…’

  Grandiston shook his head, laughing. ‘I fear, my friend, that you are too far gone for any help I might offer.’

  Beth had decided to enjoy her last days as a lady. Things could not, after all, get much worse. The brother and sister would be very angry with her, no doubt, and perhaps really seek her punishment, but that was not today. For these days she could be a friend, and perhaps a help, to both. Beth, sitting with some embroidery that the princess had discarded automatically setting stitches, watching her dress for dinner.

  ‘I am meant to be embroidering those handkerchiefs for Toby, but somehow or other, I never seem to finish. It is his birthday next week, and it is just a token.’ She looked at herself in the mirror. ‘This new silk looks pretty, does it not?’

  ‘It is ravishing,’ said Beth regarding the russet silk, almost dark orange in colour that went so well with her Emmeline’s rich brown hair.

  The princess turned to her, ‘Oh Beth, do let me give you a dress to wear this evening.’

  ‘You know I will not,’ smiled Beth. ‘You have tried to buy and lend me clothes since I got here. And we would miss dinner if I agreed. How could we take up a dress of yours in but an hour? I am some inches shorter, you know.’

  ‘Oh, Cécile could do it!’

  ‘I assure you, she could not. I am an experienced needlewoman myself and to take up one of your silks or even a muslin, without completely destroying it, would take much more than an hour.’

  ‘How do you know these things?’

  ‘Why, I have made dresses for years.’

  ‘Sweet!’ said the princess, touching her cheek. ‘You can hardly have done anything for years.’

  But she could. ‘I do not need to change.’

  ‘But only two dresses for a week. How will you bear it?’

  Beth only laughed.

  Emmeline suddenly put down the gloves she had begun to put on. ‘I shall leave off even black gloves tonight. I think it time.’

  There was a brittleness in Emmeline’s voice that called Beth to say, ‘You are very young to be a widow.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Emmeline, and Beth heard a crack in her voice.

  ‘You must be so very distressed, I’m sorry to raise the sad subject.’

  The princess sat on the gold brocade sofa beside her, with a rustle of silk. ‘I can say this to you, Beth — and to no other. I am not distressed at all.’

  Beth stopped sewing and took Emmi’s hands. ‘Were you very unhappy?’

  ‘I could not believe that someone so handsome, so charming at first, could be so cruel.’ She closed her eyes as Beth grasped her hands more strongly. ‘Cécile knows, of course. She bathed my wounds, she was my only confidante. You must never tell Wrexham, Sophy, he would be so hurt that he could not help me.’

  ‘Oh, Emmi!’ said Beth, tears coursing down her face. The princess released one hand and touched Beth’s tears wonderingly.

  ‘I was never allowed these. One had to show face, you know.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Beth, pityingly.

  ‘It was not really so bad. He was gone a great deal, and then he fell off that horse.’ She hung her head. ‘I am ashamed of what I felt then. It was not gladness, but it was — relief.’

  ‘My mother used to say that you feel what you feel, there is no shame in any of it. It is only what you do that matters.’

  ‘She sounds very wise. Maybe that is what makes me trust you, Beth. That something about you that comes from having wise parents.’

  ‘Perhaps you should not trust me. And only one of my parents was wise. My father was far from wise,’ Beth’s eyes moved like the princess’s before her, to the past. There he was again, drunk and demanding, or crying and begging forgiveness.

  The princess stood, saying, ‘I’m so glad Wrexham found you, my dear. So very glad. Let us do something with your hair at least before dinner.’

  ‘Yes, Your Highness.’

  The princess hugged her and said, looking at the discarded sewing. ‘You will be sure to finish them before you go, dear Beth, will you not?’

  And Beth said, ‘To be sure I will.’ And was rewarded not by the polite nod or small smile that would have been given to a maid, but by a hug and a kiss from a friend.

  Sophy Ludgate did not think that house parties could be any duller. She was exiled here as penance for the tiniest of crimes, really. She had merely slipped from the London house by the kitchen entrance, taking a maid, of course (so what the fuss was about, she could hardly fathom), to do a little shopping in town and perhaps meet some friends in the park at the walking hour. Before she had done more than reach the park, she had been rudely accosted by the passengers in an ancient landau, bearing the Earl of Horescombe’s crest.

  Miss Wilhelmina cried faintly, while Lady Ernestine read her a lecture. They were met on their return to Horescombe House by the calm figure of Miss Florencia in the hall, her harsh face set, hands clasped before her on her shabby gown. How she could give herself the airs of a duchess wearing the same had Sophy baffled. Yet somehow she did. Sophy was uncaring of Lady Ernestine’s frank lecture, and only a little less so of Miss Wilhelmina’s tears, but still she shook somewhat at shabby Miss Florencia.

  ‘The general requests that you have your maid pack for a house party, Sophy. We leave in one hour.’

  ‘Where —?’

  But Miss Florencia Fosdyke had walked away.

  ‘Are we to go too, Florencia?’ asked her sister, running rather excitedly behind her. ‘But we have nothing to wear to such a —’ The sisters disappeared into the Green Salon.

  Lady Ernestine sighed, but as Sophy looked on, her face had changed suddenly, to a look of mischief.

  And now Sophy knew why. The general had accepted (be
latedly, and solely due to Sophy’s need to be taught a lesson, no doubt) an invitation to a house party in the Devon home of an old war compatriot, Colonel Asquith. And by dint of donating some evening dresses to the Misses Fosdykes, Lady Ernestine had been able to forgo the trip entirely in favour of a visit of her own, thus avoiding the dullest set of guests that it could be possible to assemble. All of them were ancient, over forty at least, and Sophy was regretting her London escapade with every sentiment Lady Ernestine could wish. All day Miss Wilhelmina and the ladies chatted and embroidered, while the men took out their guns in the park, and the only possible companion on Sophy’s walks was Miss Fosdyke herself. She was not a chatterbox, and Sophy felt her spirits drop a little — not a state she usually indulged in.

  Miss Florencia broke her silence one day to say, ‘I know that you believe we do these things to punish you, Sophia, but I assure you that is not so.’

  Sophy stopped walking then, and her companion joined her, hardly heeding the magnificent, turbulent sea view from the cliff walk, or the wind that whipped at their bonnets. ‘Oh no? And was that not a smile of victory that I saw on Lady Ernestine’s face when she saw us off?’

  A little muscle moved at the side of Miss Fosdyke’s mouth, softening her harsh face for a moment. ‘Perhaps. But it is you who turn obedience into a game of chess, Sophy. You know it is so.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ She exchanged the most understanding look she had ever had with Miss Fosdyke. She walked on.

  ‘So why do you do so? You must know that the restrictions laid upon you were for your own protection?’ said her elder, marching at her side.

  ‘So everyone tells me. But to me it is the desire of the world to — to strangle me.’

  Miss Fosdyke got out a noise that could have been a snort. They walked on for a mile before she spoke again. ‘Do you not think that there is danger in this world? Even a shade on a lady’s reputation makes her unable to wed a respectable man. Lady Ernestine’s desire, all our desires, are simply to help you avoid consequences that you cannot, in your inexperience, understand.’

  ‘But I do understand the consequences. Why do you think I always arrange to be chaperoned?’