Imposter Bride (19 page)

“I was injured and all my things were lost. Captain
Ramsay, who rescued me during the fire, kindly offered me the
comfort of his home, as well as purchasing many new garments for
me.”

“Who is this Captain Ramsay?”

Sophie sipped her tea. “I’m not sure. Only that he
owns a club, Maxwell’s?”

“I’ve heard of the place. Only the high players go
there.”

“He has been extremely kind to me.”

Lady Auliffe’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll wager he
has.”

“And I told him you would reimburse him for any and
all expenses he incurred during my stay.”

“Of course.” Her hand tightened around the knob of
her thin black cane. “An opportunist, this captain?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. I’m certain he isn’t.”

“We’ll see. An inheritance such as the one you will
be receiving brings rats out of the woodwork, let me tell you. Be
careful, girl. And don’t venture out alone, or you’ll find yourself
drugged and married in Fleet Street, with nothing either of us can
do about it.”

Sophie thought back to Ramsay’s warning to Katherine
of the very same thing.

“London is a far cry from Santo Domingo. I’m sure
you had many freedoms there that are denied to our young ladies of
breeding. You’ll have to remember that.”

Sophie swallowed, unsure how much she should say.
“I’ll be careful,” she replied.

“And well you should be. Land sakes, with a face
like yours and the money you’ll be coming into, I’m surprised you
haven’t had a score of proposals already.”

“I’ve kept to this house much of the time, ma’am. I
suffered burns on my hands and feet.”

“You did?”

“But they’re much better now.”

“Good.” Lady Auliffe reached for a biscuit. “Is this
Captain Ramsay an older man?”

“I should guess around thirty.”

“Thirty? Good God! Have you had a chaperone in
attendance?”

“Much of the time. His housekeeper.”

“His housekeeper? What about your companion? Weren’t
you traveling with your governess?”

“She died in the fire, we assume.”

“Oh dear.”

Sophie set her cup down. “It hasn’t been the best of
times, ma’am.”

“Oh pish!” Lady Auliffe waved her hand. “Better to
forget it like a bad dream, my dear. You’re in England now, and you
have an entirely new life ahead of you.”

“And I am grateful for that.” She bowed her head,
deeply relieved by the likelihood that she wouldn’t be grilled
about her past, just as someone knocked on the door.

“And might I add that I am relieved to discover you
are not the empty-headed wallflower I feared you might be.”

“I shall take that as a compliment.”

Lady Auliffe chuckled. “Ah, we shall get along just
fine, Katherine. I can see that!”

Mrs. Betrus stepped into the parlor and curtseyed.
“The Earl has arrived, Miss Hinds.”

“Show him in,” Sophie said, rising to her feet.

Sophie watched Edward Metcalf walk toward her, his
head thrown back proudly, a look of bored disdain on his face as
the two small dogs yapped in alarm. He was dressed in a
plum-colored silk frock coat and breeches, with the lace of his
cravat nearly as deep as her own, and an almost unwieldy signet
ring on his right hand. His white stockings were spotless, and
Sophie guessed he had demanded that his bearers carry his chair
into the reception hall, so not a single speck of slush would mar
his hose.

As Metcalf walked forward, he slid a quick glance at
Lady Auliffe, and in that glance Sophie was surprised to see a
glint of fear, or at the very least what looked like a momentary
lapse of confidence. Was the earl afraid of something? The
terriers? How could that be possible? She must have misinterpreted
his expression. Puzzled, she continued to study him further, but he
immediately assumed his usual air of ennui.

“Miss Hinds,” he called, “My lovely little
betrothed.”

His drawl, and even more so his choice of words, set
Sophie on edge. She endured his quick kiss to her hand, even though
there was nothing offensive in his dry, polite peck or the subtle
pressure of his fingertips.

“Your lordship,” she murmured. She wondered what she
would say to him if she were ever alone with him. No man had
interested her less than this slender fop with his eternal case of
boredom.

“You are looking well,” he commented, trying to
catch her eye.

“I am much better, thank you.” She turned. “Come and
meet my grandmother.” She drew him into the parlor and was truly
grateful for the company of the older woman.

Sophie made the introductions, amused to find her
grandmother regarding the earl with a disdainful air that equaled
if not exceeded his own.

Regally she raised her gloved hand to be kissed. “So
you’re young Metcalf,” she remarked.

“Yes.” He took the offered hand. “And I am gratified
to make your acquaintance at last, Lady Auliffe.”

“Yes, well, I don’t get to London much these days.
The city’s far too big for its breeches if you ask me!”

“London is the center of the modern world,
madam.”

“Spoken like a true Englishman.” She tilted her head
and boldly inspected him.

“Don’t believe I’ve seen you since you were two
years old.”

“And have I changed much?” He gave her a lop-sided
smile, assuming she would find him witty, and sat down next to her
in the chair Sophie had been sitting in. The dogs stayed in Lady
Auliffe’s lap, growling at him, their tails down, their eyes dark
and distrustful.

Lady Auliffe, much like her dogs, apparently did not
find Metcalf charming. She sniffed.

“I should hope you’ve changed. I won’t allow my
granddaughter to marry a half-grown pup who still thinks the world
is his plaything. Do you get my meaning, Edward?”

“Certainly.” He straightened his shoulders. “And I
am serious when I say that I shall enter into marriage to Katherine
with the utmost sincerity.”

“Tea?” Sophie asked.

“Please,” he threw a quick smile at her and
instantly turned his attention back to her grandmother.

“I do hope you speak frankly,” Lady Auliffe
continued. The earl nodded eagerly as she spoke. “It was
Katherine’s grandfather’s intention and your grandfather’s to see a
good match made for both families.”

“And anyone could say they had tremendous
foresight,” He took a self-satisfied pinch of snuff. “Who would
have guessed the Metcalf and the Carlisle offspring would be so
well suited to each other?”

“As to that,” She waved him off impatiently. “The
betrothal was intended to protect the interests and assets of two
great houses, not provide you two a love match.”

“Then I count myself doubly fortunate.”

“Indeed?” She raised her right hand, “Make no
mistake, sir. I have no compunction about breaking off the
betrothal if I deem the match unsuitable.”

“I don’t see how that could be possible,” Metcalf
protested with a laugh. “I am one of the most sought after
bachelors in the whole of London.”

Lady Auliffe leaned over her cane toward him. “I
don’t care if you are the most sought after man in the universe. If
I don’t think you’re right for my Katherine, then the marriage is
off.”

“Really?” Metcalf’s voice sounded strangled, but he
accepted his tea cup and saucer with a steady hand. He mumbled a
distracted thank you to Sophie, his attentions snagged by the older
woman and not directed toward the young heiress he had come to see.
Had Sophie harbored any real interest in him, she would have been
offended.

Metcalf took a sip of tea. He didn’t appear nervous,
but the pitch of his voice steadily rose as the conversation
continued. “I assumed the matter was settled, madam.”

“In many respects it ‘tis.”

“But?”

“I see no reason to rush into things. Besides,
Katherine hasn’t yet had a proper coming out. We can’t have a
wedding before she’s introduced to society.”

“Yes.” He sat back in his chair. “Of course not.” He
tried to smile, but Sophie could tell he was peeved. “Katherine is
a lovely young woman. You can’t fault me for wanting to keep her
all to myself.”

He reached over and gave Sophie’s hand a squeeze,
just as the front door closed, and someone’s quick footsteps rang
in the hall.

Sophie looked up, hoping the master of the house had
come home, and was glad to see Ramsay’s tall frame materialize in
the parlor doorway. Metcalf rose beside her.

In contrast to the earl’s almost overdone elegance,
Ramsay’s attire was as stark as his house. He was dressed in a dark
blue frock coat and breeches that in the silvery winter light
appeared nearly as black as his unpowdered hair. He wore a gray
waistcoat, a simple cravat at his throat, and a pair of tall boots
that reached nearly to his knees. His only concession to fashion
were the silver buttons on his cuffs and down the front of his
coat. Still, one hardly noticed the understated clothes, for they
served only as a backdrop to his broad shoulders, his lean muscular
frame, and the sharp gleam in his eye. He was ten times as
commanding as the earl.

Sophie took a step toward him, happy that he had
returned before her departure. She couldn’t imagine leaving the
townhouse without taking her leave of Ramsay, especially after
having spent the night in his bed, and having shared the wonderful
stolen kisses in his study. At the recollection of the past night
with him and the way he’d pinned her against the wall, she felt a
flush flare in her cheeks. She paused, checking her impulse to run
across the floor to him.

“Captain,” she called, stepping forward to meet him
with respectable restraint. She caught up his left hand in both of
hers. “I’m so glad you have come home.”

“Puckett informed me your grandmother had arrived.”
He allowed himself to be pulled forward, a smile tugging one corner
of his mouth at the same time, as if she pulled a slow grin from
him as well.

“She has. She’s here!”

Then pandemonium broke loose. The little terriers
launched themselves off Lady Auliffe’s lap, as if blasted from a
cannon, propelled in the direction of Ramsay’s feet. They landed
yapping and twirling, until the captain reached down and scooped
them up. They writhed and yapped, licking his hands and trying to
scramble up his chest to lick his face while Sophie broke into
peals of laughter, never having seen Ian Ramsay so hopelessly out
of control of a situation.

“Good Lord!” he exclaimed, trying to frown but
unable to suppress a grin. He got a better grip on the wriggling
animals and foisted them upon the earl.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Metcalf cried, jerking away. He
brushed the front of his silk coat, as if to divest himself of the
slightest speck of dog hair.

Lady Auliffe rose, leaned her cane against the
settee and reached out for her pets. “Give them here, the little
nuisances.”

Ramsay gently placed the dogs into the crooks of the
older woman’s arms while Sophie stood near his elbow, still smiling
and watching her grandmother fuss over the tiny creatures.

“They’re Neat and Tidy,” she informed him.

“They don’t appear to be to me,” Ramsay answered,
looking down at her. For a moment his eyes lingered upon hers, and
she felt the same thrill of connection she had experienced the
first time they had looked at each other, and all the times since.
What would it have been like this morning if Ramsay hadn’t left so
early, if they had taken the time to talk about what had transpired
the previous night? Yet he had left before dawn, and probably on
purpose, just so he could avoid her. What had he said to her last
night, that their actions in the study were better left unremarked?
The words echoed painfully in her thoughts.

She forced herself not to dwell on her still raw
disappointment. “No, Neat and Tidy are their
names
,” she
added.

“Ah.”

“And you must be Captain Ramsay,” Lady Auliffe said,
appraising him, her head tilted, and her dark eyes drinking him in.
Gone was the cool disdain she’d shown the earl, replaced by a
guarded curiosity.

“The same.” He gave her a curt nod and a small
smile. “I’m glad to see you survived the storm, Lady Auliffe. Was
your journey bearable?”

“Just.” She sank down to the settee, and nodded
toward the empty place next to her. “Please sit down, Captain. I
hear I am indebted to you for the care you have shown my
granddaughter.”

“Not at all. It is I who am indebted to you.”

“In what way, sir?”

“Katherine has improved upon my home, has cooked
wonderful meals for us, and has entertained the household with her
skill at the harpsichord. I could go on and on.” He glanced at her
and Sophie felt a rush of warmth flood through her. Ramsay had
never given her a greater compliment. In fact no one had ever
praised her like that. She took the only remaining chair and busied
herself pouring more tea. “I have enjoyed her company more than I
can say.”

“I’ll bet you have,” Metcalf interjected acidly.
“And so improper, this arrangement of yours! I should have called
you out days ago, Ramsay.”

“Perhaps you still should,” Lady Auliffe responded,
her hand arched on her cane, her expression cold. Metcalf, who was
still standing, shifted his weight on his feet and glanced at her
and then back at Ramsay, momentarily flustered by the suggestion
that he defend the honor of his future bride by risking his
life.

“If dueling weren’t illegal I would!”

“Of course,” she murmured. “Though how we will ever
justify Katherine’s presence in this townhouse to polite
society—”

“‘
Twas my burns,” Sophie put in.
“And the storm.”

“Yes, the weather was onerous,” Edward put in
anxiously.

“I’ll give you that much.” Lady Auliffe looked aside
to the captain, while Neat tried to wriggle onto his thigh.

“And I trust you behaved as a gentleman.”