Imposter Bride (18 page)

Later, when Ramsay was certain Sophie was asleep, he
slipped into her room and located the linen pockets, which she had
cleverly stowed away in the tip of one of her new shoes. He reached
in the thin fabric pouch and pulled out a small square item, not
even as big as a guinea, and held it up to the light of a candle
he’d placed nearby.

He had found the diamond buckle. Ramsay sighed as
deep disappointment washed through him. The chit had stolen the
buckle after all. But why? Sophie simply didn’t seem like a thief,
and certainly not the type of thief who would rob from a dead man.
There had to be more to the story than he’d been told.

He certainly couldn’t let her retain possession of
such a valuable piece of jewelry. It did not belong to her, and
implicated her in a serious crime. Someone must return it to the
executor of the estate of the late Mr. Coutain. He would arrange to
have it delivered. Meanwhile, he must not let her suspect he had
taken it. The mere weight and shape of another buckle hanging
inside the small pocket might be enough to convince her that she
still had the diamond bauble.

Ramsay reached down to his own breeches and with a
sharp yank, ripped off the left pewter buckle, stuck it in her
pocket, and then returned the bundle to the shoe. He rose, his
scowl deeper than it had been in many years. He could feel it
etching into the flesh of his face and into his heart.

Sophie was a thief? He couldn’t believe it. But
perhaps he would have to acknowledge her true nature soon. Before
he approached her with the proof in his palm, he would see if
Puckett had uncovered anything more about her.

The next morning, in preparation for the Earl’s
visit at eleven o’clock, Sophie was dressed carefully by her maid.
Maggie expertly rolled Sophie’s hair, until her unruly locks were
tamed into a beautiful mass of curls held up by pins and ribbon.
She slipped into a new dress that had been delivered the day
before, a pale green silk the color of sea foam, woven in an
intricate pattern of roses. Her petticoat was a confection of pale
cream that matched the lace stitched to her sleeves, and the front
of her bodice.

After Maggie left, Sophie painstakingly covered the
red line on her arm with paste and powder, hoping that Edward
Metcalf would take no notice of her rapidly healing wound, which
the lace of her sleeve concealed.

She went down at ten, closing the door behind her
and glancing over her shoulder at the door to Ramsay’s room. She
had spent the night in his bed, and the thought cast a thrill
through her limbs. She could still smell his faint scent on her own
skin, and wished she would never have to take a bath and wash away
the fragrance.

Last night, after a brief and wonderfully passionate
lapse, he had reverted to the gentleman he was; she could not fault
him for that. Still, her heart was heavy with disappointment that
he kept her at arm’s length. She knew it was best for both of them
that they remain uninvolved with each other. But her heart cried
out for more, no matter how much she told herself she could not
have him.

More than ever, she would find it onerous to
countenance the airs of the Earl of Blethin.

When Sophie stepped off the stairs, she was met by
Mrs. Betrus, who hobbled forward with a huge smile on her face.

“Miss Hinds!” she exclaimed. “Good news!” She
presented her with a folded and sealed paper. “Your grandmother has
arrived in London!”

“My grandmother?” Sophie stammered, not entirely
prepared for the reality of leaving Captain Ramsay’s home, even
though she knew her departure was inevitable. She accepted the note
and broke the seal, trying to keep her hands steady.

“Late last night, the boy said who delivered
this.”

Mrs. Betrus hovered at her elbow as Sophie scanned
the large, flowery and extravagantly misspelled message.

“She’s coming at eleven,” Sophie read. “She can’t
wait to see me.”

“At last!” Mrs. Betrus crowed. “I must get
everything ready!”

“The earl is coming, too.”

“Oh, yes.”

“And the captain? Is he here?”

“No, he left some hours ago.”

“Does he know about my grandmother’s arrival?”

“No. The message was just now delivered. She must
have had trouble finding you.” Mrs. Betrus fluttered her hands.
“Oh, to think Lady Auliffe is coming here! To this house!”

“What is she like?”

“That’s right, you’ve never met her, have you?”

“No.”

“Didn’t your mother ever speak of your
grandmother?”

“Hardly ever.” Sophie gave a small shrug while she
thought of Katherine’s mother. “I don’t believe they got
along.”

“Well, your grandmother was one of the great
beauties of her time. Dazzling.”

“But she does not live in London?”

“Not for years. She made a love match, you see—after
the death of her first husband. Her second husband was a country
gentleman, I’ve been told. Somewhat of an eccentric. And she was
quite content to give up the social whirl for his company.”

Sophie could understand such a choice. She would be
content to spend her days and nights with Ian Ramsay, no matter
where they lived, as long as they had their intimate evenings
together.

“Is her husband still alive?”

“I don’t think so. But you’ll find all that out when
you meet her. And my goodness, we must have Maggie pack your
things. I’m sure your grandmother will want to take you with
her.”

A wave of dread swept over Sophie. She glanced down
the hall to the front door. In an hour, she would either be bustled
away to a brand new life or found out to be an imposter.

Sophie turned for the stairs and felt the color
drain from her face. Were her linen pockets safe?
The
buckle
? In all the turmoil of the past evening, she had
completely forgotten about it. Should she be forced to run for her
life again within the next few hours, she must be prepared.

“Please send Maggie up,” she said, forcing the pitch
of her voice not to betray her disquiet. “I’ll oversee the
packing.”

Then she hurried up the stairs to secure her only
important possession.

Shortly after eleven, Lady Auliffe arrived with a
footman in tow carrying two small terriers. As soon as he set them
down, they scampered to Sophie, yapping and jumping up on their
back legs, and twirling with each bark. She couldn’t help but laugh
at their antics.

“Go ahead and pet them, my dear,” Lady Auliffe said.
“The little heathens won’t be quiet until you do.”

Sophie squatted down, much like curtseying, her
stays keeping her from bending over comfortably, and petted the
dogs. They could barely contain themselves with joy. Mrs. Betrus
watched from the doorway, beaming.

“They like you,” Lady Auliffe announced. “Not that I
am over confident of their judgment, mind you. And sometimes they
nip at the most inappropriate times.”

Sophie didn’t pull back her hand, sure the dogs
wouldn’t harm her and guessing that her grandmother was testing
her. “What are their names?” she asked gaily.

“Neat and Tidy.”

“Neat and Tidy?” Sophie repeated, amused by the odd
names. They barked at her.

“The one with the brown saddle is Neat.”

“They are darling!”

“My husband named them, the rascal. Don’t lay the
blame for such idiocy at my doorstep.” Lady Auliffe sat upon the
settee and grandly surveyed her, one hand on her cane, the other
upon her thigh.

Sophie rose and faced the older woman, getting a
good look at her “grandmother” for the first time. Though Lady
Auliffe must have been in her seventies, she retained a slender
figure, unusually fine and straight. Under the expensive white wig
and lace cap, her face was lined with many fine wrinkles, but her
brown eyes burned with intelligence, and her chin was sharply
defined, probably with obstinacy. She was the type of woman who
likely still rode every day or at least walked great distances for
her health, and a woman who had got her way for much of her life as
well. She had also retained her teeth, which was nearly unheard of
for a person of her advanced age.

Sophie would have considered herself fortunate to
claim the lineage of such a woman.

Sophie kept her shoulders straight and her chin
level as her grandmother critically surveyed her, and all the while
her heart pounded in her chest so hard she thought the lace must be
fluttering at her breast.

“You’re a fine looking girl,” Lady Auliffe
remarked.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Frankly, I’m surprised.”

Sophie paused, taken aback by her words.

“I saw that look,” her grandmother said. “Do I shock
you?”

“A bit, ma’am.”

“I make no bones about it, Katherine. Your mother
was not much to look at.”

Sophie nodded in agreement. Caroline Hinds had been
a large woman, prone to an overabundance of facial hair late in her
life, which she seemed to ignore. Perhaps her eyesight had failed
with age as well, and she hadn’t been aware of her condition.

“I never knew what your father saw in that
woman.”

Sophie kept her expression blank and moved toward
the nearby chair, hoping she had passed the initial inspection. She
sank to the seat. “Would you care for a cup of tea, ma’am?”

“Never touch the stuff. But I would love a small
glass of claret.”

Surprised to find a woman drinking before noon,
Sophie turned to Mrs. Betrus and relayed the request. Lady Auliffe
tapped her thigh with her gloved fingertips and both dogs leapt
into her lap. She petted them absently as she continued to
talk.

“Caroline’s lack of looks stemmed from her poor
habits and her even poorer attitude. Nothing I could do could
change that.” She gave a sigh. “I regret she felt it necessary to
cut me off from my only family, but that was her choice. I believe
it was her idea to buy that plantation in the West Indies.”

Sophie didn’t know what to say. She’d never met a
woman quite as frank as this.

“You’re shocked, aren’t you? Don’t think I’m much of
a lady to be saying such things?”

Sophie paused for a moment, weighing her response.
She had never been one to mindlessly echo the sentiments of another
person, and her headstrong nature had often brought punishment down
upon her. She decided that just because she was pretending to be
someone else in appearance didn’t mean she had to take on a
different personality. “To be honest, ma’am, your remarks do seem a
bit unfeeling.”

Lady Auliffe laughed outright. “Damn right, my dear!
But there are some people one has feelings for, and some one
doesn’t. I could never bring myself to pretend. And frankly, your
mother and I had very little in common except for my son.”

“I would imagine she never felt as if she could live
up to your standards,” Sophie replied, “After all, I’ve heard you
were quite a beauty.”

“I was. But I worked for everything I got in life,
Katherine. Did your mother ever tell you that?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. I was the daughter of a
clergyman. Poor as a church mouse. With nothing but my looks and my
mind to raise me from the gutter, I’m not ashamed to say. Your
mother, on the other hand never had to raise a finger. Had every
advantage money could buy. And what did she do with it? Nothing. My
son could have been prime minister if she hadn’t carted him off to
that God-forsaken place!”

Sophie hoped Lady Auliffe would continue to fill in
more blanks of the Hinds family history as she went. She took the
tray from Mrs. Betrus and handed the glass of claret to her
grandmother.

“Thank you.” Lady Auliffe took a drink. Then she
held out the glass and looked at it. “That’s excellent claret,” she
remarked. “Just excellent!” Then she glanced around the room. “But
I forget myself. Where’s little Sophie?”

“Sophie?” Sophie looked up, puzzled by the question.
Why should this great lady concern herself with the whereabouts of
a maid? “She’s gone missing, ma’am.”

“What do you mean, gone missing?”

“She’s been accused of a crime and has run off.”

“Crime? What kind of crime?”

“Murder.” Sophie adjusted her skirts to hide her
disquiet. “And theft.”

“Good God!”

“It’s been in the papers. A terrible scandal.”

“The poor girl! What’s being done?”

“What do you mean?”

The older woman threw her shoulders back and
narrowed her eyes, “Why to help her, of course!”

“Help?” her voice cracked. “Sophie?”

“Are you deaf, girl?”

“No, but—” Sophie gaped at Lady Auliffe, baffled. No
one had ever been concerned for Sophie’s welfare. Why would anyone
start now? “What can be done?”

“Why, send out a search party for one thing. Hire a
good barrister for another. We can’t leave her out on her own like
this. It just won’t do!”

“But she’s just a maidservant—”

“Pardon me?”

“She’s just a maid. Why go to all that trouble?”

Lady Auliffe’s eyes hardened into two points. “I
can’t believe what you just said.”

“She’s a good maid, though,” Sophie put in, trying
to rectify whatever she’d said to outrage her grandmother. “I mean
to say—”

“There’s been some mischief!” Lady Auliffe declared,
pounding her cane on the floor. The dogs vaulted from her lap,
yapping. Lady Auliffe glowered, her stare shooting through the
nearby window, as if she could see something far beyond the
townhouse. “I should have guessed! That woman—”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking
about.”

“‘
Tis all right. ‘Tis business from
the past.” Lady Auliffe waved her off, coming out of her dark mood
as swiftly as she had plunged into it. “I’ll arrange for everything
as soon as we return to Carlisle House.” She leaned forward, “And
by the way, how did you end up here? I must say I had a devil of a
time trying to locate you.”