Imposter Bride (20 page)

Sophie held her breath, wondering what Ramsay would
say.

“Who would dare cross the Earl of Blethin?” Ramsay
replied. He had not really told a falsehood, yet had not really
answered the question either. But his words placated Metcalf, whose
face shone with a triumphant sneer.

Ramsay picked up the terrier that was determined to
sit in his lap, and set it on the floor, where it trotted in
circles head down, sniffing the legs of the furniture. Sophie
wondered what Ramsay would have said to the earl had ladies not
been in the room.

“Do send me the bills for Katherine’s care, and I
shall have them paid at once. I am staying at the Carlisle house in
Kensington.”

He nodded and glanced at Sophie. Their gazes caught
and held again. Perhaps he, like she, was reluctant to see their
time together come to a close, knowing that they would likely never
see or speak to each other again. A common American and a wealthy
countess would not cross paths in London society.

Sophie caught her grandmother watching them, and she
quickly stood up. “I should make sure everything is packed,” she
remarked.

“Do you need assistance?” Ramsay asked, rising to
his feet as well.

“Do not trouble yourself.” Lady Auliffe touched his
hand to restrain him. “My footman can take care of her things.
William?” she called. Her footman ducked into the parlor. “My
granddaughter will show you her belongings, which are to be carried
out to the coach.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He bowed and waited for Sophie to walk
across the parlor while both dogs orbited around the base of her
skirts.

“Miss Hinds,” Ramsay’s voice made her stop.

She turned.

“Feel free to take the book you were reading.”

“Thank you, captain.”

“Any of them, in fact. You can return them at your
convenience.”

She nodded, her heart squeezing painfully in her
chest. Were these to be their last words to each other—this
pitifully mundane exchange across a parlor? Or was Ramsay
encouraging her to borrow the books in hopes she might use their
return as an excuse to call upon him?

“No need to weigh down the carriage,” Lady Auliffe
interjected, as if she had read Sophie’s errant thoughts. “We’ve a
vast library at the Carlisle house.”

“And if I have my way,” the earl added, “Katherine
won’t have to put in any time reading.” He smiled at her. “That
would be such a waste of your talents.”

She tried to smile back but had a difficult time
masking her disappointment. Without the borrowed books, there would
be no respectable reason for returning to the captain’s
townhouse.

All too soon the time came to go. Sophie swept down
the stairs where Mrs. Betrus, Maggie, and Charles waited at the
door to see her off. Metcalf helped her on with her cloak, and
stood protectively at her elbow, performing the acts she would have
preferred Ramsay to do for her. Lady Auliffe stood nearest the
door, her terriers tucked under her breasts.

“Say your farewells, girl,” she called grandly. “We
have much to do!”

Sophie turned to address the servants first. She was
surprised to see tears brimming in Mrs. Betrus’ eyes.

“Ah, Miss Hinds, I will miss you terribly!” the
housekeeper sputtered. They embraced warmly, and Sophie felt a lump
forming in her throat. She had made more than one strong bond in
the last few days.

“Thank you for everything, Mrs. Betrus. You’ve been
very kind to me.”

“William,” Lady Auliffe nodded at her footman, who
gave the housekeeper a generous tip.

“Why, thank you, your ladyship!” Mrs. Betrus
curtseyed and sniffed. Then she clutched the folded bills to her
chest and tried to compose herself while tears ran down her plump
cheeks.

Sophie said good-bye to Maggie and Charles, who also
received generous tips.

Finally, she turned to the captain, who stood in the
parlor doorway, his black eyes glinting and hard. Did he find it
difficult to say good-bye, or was he reacquiring the stone-like
facade he’d worn when they first met?

“Captain Ramsay,” she stated, holding out her hand.
How she longed to embrace him. But being watched by her grandmother
and the earl put constraints on her natural inclination to step
into his arms.

“Miss Hinds,” he replied softly, taking her hand. He
raised it to his mouth and gently kissed the gloved knuckle of her
index finger. Then he paused and breathed in the scent of her
before he slowly lowered her hand.

“I can’t thank you enough, sir,” she said, knowing
if she tried to say anything more, the words would tumble out in a
blubbering torrent.

“‘
Twas my pleasure.” He smiled at
her and released her fingers. “I have a gift for you.”

“You do?”

“Just a token.” From behind his back, he produced a
small package tied up in brown paper and string. “Protection
against all things English—particularly the cold air.”

She glanced at him, pleasantly puzzled, and took the
package. It was soft, and she guessed it held a garment.

“Thank you, Captain Ramsay.”

“My pleasure.”

She thought she would die from not being able to say
what she longed to tell him, that the past few days with him had
been the best hours of her life, that she wasn’t a rich heiress who
was out of his league but a lowly servant who would miss him and
who didn’t want to leave his company. She suddenly realized, that
in this new life of hers, she considered Ian Ramsay her best and
only friend.

“I hope we shall meet again,” she said, struggling
to keep her voice level.

“I do as well.” He held out his hand to the earl.
“My best wishes to you both, Metcalf.”

The earl ignored his hand. “Well! I never thought
I’d hear such words from you.” He cupped Sophie’s elbow as if to
assure everyone she was his possession. “Come, dear Katherine.”

Ramsay took the snub and turned to the older woman.
“And it was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Auliffe.”

“And you.” She regarded him, her eyes measuring his
every word and gesture, as she had evaluated him from the moment
he’d walked into the parlor. “Thank you once again for taking such
great care of my granddaughter.” She nodded at her servant.
“William?”

The footman opened the door for his mistress, and
with that simple act, swept Sophie from Ian Ramsay’s life.

As the carriage drew away from the town house, Lady
Auliffe arranged her dogs on her lap and looked up.

“Open your gift,” she said, more as an order than a
request. “Go on, girl!”

Flushing, Sophie carefully untied the string. She
had never received a gift before, and the thoughtfulness of the
captain made tears well in her eyes. With shaking hands, she folded
back the paper to reveal a soft wool blanket, the same kind of red
and black plaid blanket he kept in his carriage. Sophie raised the
cloth to her cheek. She could smell Ian’s scent, and for a moment,
she closed her eyes and let the fragrance sweep her away.

“He gave you a blanket?” Lady Auliffe chuckled. “How
peculiar!”

“Maybe because I’ve been cold since my arrival
here.”

“Plaid, as well. Curious.” She shook her head. “I
must say, I would have thought Ramsay would know the proper gift to
give a woman to impress her—a set of earrings, something for the
hair—”

“He’s a practical man,” Sophie murmured.

“Unlike Edward Metcalf?”

Sophie shrugged and looked down at the blanket on
her knees.

For a long moment, the carriage rumbled through the
streets while both women lapsed into thoughtful silence.

“He’s a fine-looking man,” Lady Auliffe stated at
last, obviously trying to encourage Sophie to chat, but she had
withdrawn into the corner of the carriage, close to tears.

“I should count myself fortunate, I suppose.” She
knew she was failing dreadfully in her attempt to feign excitement
for the upcoming nuptials, but at the moment she didn’t care.

“I meant Ramsay.”

Shocked, Sophie glanced at the older woman. Had Lady
Auliffe seen through her that easily, or was she just making an
observation?

Lady Auliffe continued, her eyes watching Sophie
closely. “A man like that could turn a girl’s head.”

“If a girl’s head was turned by looks alone.”

“I suspect there’s more to this Captain Ramsay than
just his looks.”

Sophie flushed, uncomfortable with the turn of the
conversation. “Perhaps.”

“Child!” Her grandmother chuckled. “Come now!”

Sophie stared at her, confused.

“So close-mouthed. One would think you were hiding
something. A tender for this captain, perhaps?”

Sophie paused for a moment. This grandmother of hers
was an intelligent, perceptive, and worldly-wise woman, a person
she knew would see through a lie in a moment. Better to be frank
with her, and deal with the situation woman to woman, instead of
child to parent. She was sure she would gain nothing from trying to
play games with her companion.

“I know I am contracted to marry Edward Metcalf,”
she said carefully, “But I must admit that I prefer the likes of
the captain’s looks and temper.”

Lady Auliffe nodded and sat back, seemingly
satisfied with her answer. “He’s a real man, that one. Rare these
days.”

“But please, do not find fault with him,” Sophie
added earnestly. “He was nothing short of a gentleman to me, and he
knows nothing of my regard for him.”

“Oh, he knows.”

Sophie flushed openly.

“Your honesty becomes you, Katherine.” Lady Auliffe
smiled warmly at her. “But it is now time to put aside your
schoolgirl sentiments for handsome Mr. Ramsay and attend to
business.”

“I am aware of that.”

“Good girl.” She regarded her kindly. “You seem to
have a sensible head on your shoulders. We shall get along, you and
I.”

Sophie knew she did not deserve Lady Auliffe’s high
opinion of her. She was nowhere near an honest person these days.
Miserable with guilt, Sophie clutched the brown package even
tighter. She and Lady Auliffe would get along only until the moment
she was found out to be a dishonest imposter. How long could she
sustain the ruse?

Trying to quell her fears and avoid the sharp eyes
of the woman sitting across from her, she looked out the small
window as the carriage rolled out to Front Street. Standing on the
footpath in front of a coffeehouse was a thin man dressed in black,
shaking his staff at a trio of ragged street boys. Sophie shrank
back from the window, her heart racing all the more.

Constable Keener.
Was he still in pursuit of
her? Fortunately for her, the Carlisle House was in a completely
different part of town than the captain’s home.

“Is something wrong?” Lady Auliffe questioned.

“No,” Sophie replied. “I’m just a little
nervous.”

“Whatever about?”

“My entrée,” Sophie fussed with the plaid blanket,
wrapping it back into its paper covering. “Meeting all those
people.”

“Tut! They will love you.”

That night, and for many nights to come, Sophie
slept with the blanket draped across the coverlet at her shoulders
so that she could fall asleep with the comforting scent of Ian
Ramsay drifting through her dreams. Then when morning came, she
carefully folded up the wool and placed it in the travelling trunk
he’d bought her, making sure the servants never saw the blanket.
She had no wish to be teased or scolded because of her lingering
feelings for the captain, and no desire to be questioned about the
plaid by someone who had never met the man and didn’t know what he
was really like. Her grandmother assumed she could easily put the
captain out of her mind and get on with her new life, but Sophie
knew she would never forget him.

Two weeks later, Sophie walked down a short gallery
toward the ballroom of one of the finest houses she had ever seen,
the home of the Duke and Duchess of Hartford. The newly built brick
mansion made the Carlisle House seem like a cottage in comparison,
and was reportedly designed by the much-in-demand architect,
Christopher Wren.

Sophie felt as if she entered a palace, not a
residence, as they were shown into a rotunda whose ceilings soared
two stories above her head, complete with liveried servants
standing at every corner and doorway. The new marble floors, barely
touched by human feet, looked like pristine fields of French-milled
soap.

For once Sophie was thankful for the company of
Edward Metcalf, upon whose arm she glided. He seemed to take such
grandeur in stride, his ennui as fashionable as the appointments of
their surrounds. Sophie caught herself gawking at the marble
sculptures, the luxurious blue velvet draperies, and the silver
fixtures, and admonished herself for betraying her humble
upbringing with a much too obvious display of awe. To keep from
staring, she initiated a light banter with Edward, hoping to ward
off her increasing sense of anxiety for the evening to come, when
she would be presented to the most discriminating people in
London.

Edward had barely let her out of his sight since
she’d moved to the Carlisle house, and had kept her time so
occupied that she hadn’t had a chance to pursue the sale of the
buckle, and no opportunity to pass by Maxwell’s where she might
have providentially run into Ramsay on the street. Every day when
she took her exercise with Edward at Hyde Park, she had looked
vainly for Captain Ramsay, but had never seen him among the
fashionable crowd, not that she truly expected to find him
there.

Now, here she was on the earl’s arm once again,
draped in apricot-colored satin and pearls, attired in the finest
gown she’d ever worn, much less seen. Ahead of her moved her
grandmother, as elegant as a queen, on the arm of an old
acquaintance, nodding and greeting everyone she passed, the ostrich
feathers in her hair trembling with every gesture.