Love by Deception (Age of Innocence) (4 page)

Isabel set out to practice every
scenario she could think of. “Miss Knott, it is a pleasure to meet you,” she
said in her best imitation of a low, manly voice. Fanning herself, she batted
her eyes and replied, “Thank you, sir. And who are you again? I’m so busy
fanning myself that I completely forgot your name.”

Her sister’s laughter filled the
front parlor. “Isabel, you’re shameless.”

“I know. Shall I demonstrate more?”

Before Georgette could answer,
Isabel played out scene after scene entertaining her. She was laughing so much
that tears rolled down her cheeks. “Stop, you must stop. I can’t breathe
anymore,” Georgette begged.

Isabel skipped to the sofa and
threw herself down in a fit of giggles. “It’s so good to hear you laugh,” she
said when she regained control.

Georgette swiped at the tears on
her cheeks. “Yes, it is. Thank you for that.”

“It’s my pleasure, but rest
assured, I will heed your advice. I just couldn’t help myself today,” Isabel
said, sipping her tea.

“I know. I especially liked your
low, gravelly voice. I do hope that no gentleman has a voice like that or I
won’t be able to contain my laughter.”

“Do you think it will be much
longer before we hear from Mrs. Quinn? It’s been nearly three weeks since you
sent your letter inquiring about a trip to London.”

“I don’t know. Perhaps she’s been
busy, or possibly moved?”

“We would have such fun in London,
don’t you think?” Isabel asked, taking a sip of her tea.

“I do, but we’ll have to be
patient. We cannot arrive in London with no one to host us. It would not be
proper, and we’d have no chance of meeting any gentlemen.”

“I suppose you’re right. Proper
introductions are everything.”

As if on cue, there was a knock on
the door.

“I’ll see who it is,” Isabel said
putting her cup down and walking into the foyer. She opened the heavy oak door
to see a young man holding out a letter.

“Delivery for Ms. Georgette
Condiff,” he said.

Isabel took the letter. “Thank you.
I’ll see that she gets it.”

The young man nodded and Isabel
closed the door. She hurried back to the parlor. “Georgette, I think your reply
is here.”

Georgette took the letter and
sliced open the seal, then began to read.

 

My
dearest Georgette,

 

I
was truly saddened to learn of your father’s passing. He and I were great
friends when he lived in London and I missed him terribly when he retired to
Essex. I extend my deepest sympathies for your loss.

Regarding
the matter of a visit to London, it would be my pleasure to host you and your
cousin for the Season. Please come at your earliest convenience. I have
notified my modiste (the best in London if I do say so myself) of the need for
new gowns for both of you. Mr. Ingham has already made ample funds available
for whatever you shall need.

I
am so looking forward to seeing you again, as I have not laid eyes on you since
you were a toddler. My home is your home for as long as you’d like to stay in
London.

 

My
very best,

 

Mrs.
Iris Quinn

 

Isabel jumped off the sofa and
squealed in delight. “Oh my, we’re going to London. How exciting.”

“Yes, we are. Mr. Ingham was quite
speedy with the funds, don’t you think? I merely mentioned to him the
possibility of us going to London. It would appear that he has already been in
touch with Mrs. Quinn.”

“I shall go upstairs and start
packing at once,” Isabel said.

“Isabel, wait, dearest. We will
have plenty of time for that. First, we must make arrangements for a carriage.
I shall write to Mr. Ingham and ask his advice.”

“Can you pen the letter now? I can
deliver it to his office before it gets dark,” Isabel said.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I
don’t like you walking alone. Let’s say we both deliver it tomorrow morning
when I’m feeling more refreshed.”

Isabel tried to hide the
disappointment from her face. She wanted more than anything to go to London.
She’d spent her whole life here in this village as Georgette’s servant. She
hadn’t minded, but ever since reading her father’s letter, she wondered how
different her life could have been if she had been raised not as a servant, but
as Georgette’s sister or even her distant cousin. She was aching for new
adventures as a proper young lady, but she knew that it might be too much for
Georgette today. “Of course, that will be fine. Why don’t you write to Mr.
Ingham and I will go in the kitchen and start dinner.”

Georgette nodded. “That sounds
perfect.”

 

***

 

The next day the two young women
set out in mid-morning to walk to Mr. Ingham’s office in the village. The last
time they were there, Georgette barely had enough energy to sit through the
reading of her father’s assets. Today she walked along without effort. Isabel
had done her hair in a bun at the nape of her neck and had a nice shine to it,
bringing out its golden highlights. Even the gauntness in her face was gone.
Her cheeks had a healthy glow and her hazel eyes were bright. She walked with
purpose beside Isabel.

“It’s such a lovely day for a walk,
don’t you think, Isabel?”

Isabel nodded and linked her arm
with her sister’s. “Indeed it is. It gladdens my heart to see you so well
today.”

Georgette smiled and it reached her
eyes “Thanks to my bossy sister, I have regained my health. I forgot how good
it felt to enjoy the sunlight.”

“Don’t think I will let up once we
reach London,” Isabel said with a chuckle.

Georgette squeezed her hand. “I
wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Ladies, may I be of assistance?”
came a deep voice behind them.

They turned around to find Mr.
Ingham walking behind them.

“Mr. Ingham, we were on our way to
your office. I hope this is a good time,” Georgette said.

Mr. Ingham tipped his hat to them.
“I would be delighted. Please let me escort you,” he said, while offering an
arm to each young lady.

“Thank you. That is so very kind of
you,” Georgette said, placing her hand on his proffered arm.

The trio arrived at the solicitor’s
office within a few moments. Mr. Ingham held the door open for them. “Ladies,
please come in and have a seat. May I offer you some tea?”

Georgette shook her head. “Thank
you, no. We won’t be staying long.”

Mr. Ingham took off his hat and
went around to sit at his desk. “What brings you ladies to my office today?”

Georgette reached inside her
reticule and pulled out the letter. “I didn’t know if you’d be here today so I
wrote you a letter. Isabel and I have heard from Mrs. Quinn. She has graciously
agreed to host us for the Season in London.”

“Yes, I’ve had correspondence with
Mrs. Quinn. She wrote to me to inform me of her decision and to secure funds
for your use.”

“That was very kind of you, Mr.
Ingham,” Isabel said. “May we ask that you arrange for a carriage to London?”

Mr. Ingham nodded. “Yes, of course.
When were you planning to leave?”

“We’d like to leave as soon as
possible. Will that be a problem?” Isabel asked.

“No, not at all, Miss Knott. I
shall arrange for it. Shall we say two days hence? It will give me time to
rearrange my schedule.”

Georgette leaned forward. “Your
schedule, sir?”

“I will be escorting you ladies to
London. Mr. Condiff would turn over in his grave if he knew I let his daughters
travel without a proper escort.”

Isabel inhaled sharply. “You know
that Mr. Condiff was my father? It’s supposed to be a secret.”

“Yes, I know. Mr. Condiff confided
in me a number of years ago when he came to see me about his last wishes.”

“I see.”

“Miss Knott, please be assured that
I would never divulge a confidence. I have kept the secret for a number of
years and will continue to do so. No one will learn the truth from me.”

Isabel relaxed into the chair.
“Thank you, Mr. Ingham. May I ask you a most delicate question?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“Do you know the identity of my
mother?”

Mr. Ingham shook his head. “I’m
sorry, no. Mr. Condiff kept that from me and it was not my place to ask.”

“I understand.”

“Now, is there anything else?”

“Yes, can you arrange for someone
to check the house periodically? We may be gone for a few months.”

“Yes, of course. Don’t worry about
your home. I will see to it that all is in order. Is that all?”

Georgette stood. “Yes. Thank you
for everything Mr. Ingham. We are looking forward to seeing you in two days.”

Isabel followed suit. “Good day,
Mr. Ingham. Thank you.”

John Ingham stood and bowed. “It’s
my pleasure, Miss Condiff, Miss Knott. Good day.”

The two young women left the
solicitor’s office and headed home.

“Georgette, are you well? You’re
very quiet,” Isabel asked.

“I’m fine. No need to worry. I was
thinking how much our lives have changed in such a short time.”

Isabel stopped. “Are you unhappy
about learning I’m your sister? If you’re worried about sharing the per annum,
I will…”

Georgette linked her arm with
Isabel’s and started walking. “Do not be silly, dearest. I couldn’t be happier
to learn that we are truly sisters. I couldn’t imagine my life without you. I
only meant it would have been nice to have known this while we were growing up.
You should not have been made to work so hard.”

“It was not so bad.”

“Still, I feel you have suffered a
grave injustice. I would happily give you the entire per annum if that would
make things right.”

“Nonsense, there was no injustice.
I was happy growing up alongside you.”

“Are you sure? You hold no ill
feelings?”

Isabel shook her head. “No,
although I confess I have wondered how my life could have been different, but
there’s no point in dwelling on things that cannot be changed. We are embarking
on a new adventure and that’s what we should be thinking about, not on events
in the past we had no control over.”

Georgette nodded. “Thank you,
Isabel. You have lifted a burden from me.”

“Come now, let’s hurry home. There
is much to do.”

Georgette chuckled. “Yes, of
course.”

 
Chapter
4
 

Isabel had pulled Georgette’s
collection of day dresses out of the wardrobe and laid them on the bed. It was
mid-morning and the sun was streaming in the room, making the space bright and
cheery. She tried to hum a merry tune, but an overwhelming sadness clung to
her. Try as she might, she couldn’t banish the feeling. Although she’d had several
months to come to grips with the devastating death of Mr. Condiff, it continued
to pain her that she had never known that he was her father while he was alive.
It would have changed everything for her.

A father.

It was an alien concept for her,
one that had never crossed her mind before.
To pine for
either a father or mother.
For as long as she could remember, she’d been
here with Georgette and Mr. Condiff. She thought she’d never know who her own
father was, but now that she did, she regretted that she would not have the
opportunity to know him better. It would have helped her understand his mood
swings, had she learned the truth earlier, but that wouldn't happen now. It
seemed ironic that she’d found and lost her father within such a short span of time.
It was over so quick. One short letter was all she would ever have of her
father.

And what of her mother? Was she
still alive? Did she still reside in London? Did she ever think of her, or
wonder if Isabel had survived infancy? And what of Isabel’s status? Was her
mother aware that she would be raised to be Georgette’s lady’s maid instead of
as a gentleman’s daughter?

Too many questions with no one left
to answer any of
them
. That was Isabel’s world. She
had no choice, and resigned herself to never knowing the identity of her
mother. It was clear from her father’s letter that it would remain a deeply
buried secret.
 
Now that he was
gone, who was left to tell her? She could not dwell on it. It wouldn’t be good
for her, and she certainly didn’t want to upset Georgette any more than her
sister already was with the loss of her father. Tomorrow they’d be heading to
London, and that was something she could look forward to and be happy about.

She folded the blue cotton day
dress and placed it in the trunk. Before she picked up the next dress to pack,
Georgette came into the bedchamber. She saw her sister look at the chair in the
corner where a few of Isabel’s dresses were laid out. “Hi, Georgette. Do you
need something?”

Georgette pointed at the chair.
“Isabel, please don’t pack any of your dresses in that chest.”

Isabel’s mouth fell open, hurt
written across her face. “Pardon? I don’t have a chest of my own. I didn’t
think you’d mind if I packed a few of my own pieces in with yours. I know
they’re not as pretty…”

Georgette rushed over to her and
clasped Isabel’s hands in her own. “No, dearest. You misunderstand me. I have
plenty of day dresses. There’s enough for both of us and no need for you to
bring your more simple ones. You’re a gentleman’s daughter and should be
dressed as such. I don’t want anyone to mistake you for a maid, that’s all I
meant.”

Isabel exhaled, relief flooding
her. “Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were ashamed of me.”

Georgette shook her head. “Never.
Don’t ever question that. I love and respect you most highly. We’re both the
same size and many of my dresses haven’t been worn very often. There are
plenty, and if we need more, we can have them made for us.” She began to help
Isabel with the packing by gathering up petticoats, stays and stockings.

Isabel resumed her folding.
“Tomorrow we’ll be on our way to London. I’ve never been to the city, and
daresay that I’m getting excited about it. Can you believe it’s finally
happening?”

“Yes, although I’m not looking
forward to the long carriage ride. It will take us most of the day to get
there,” Georgette said.

“I’ll pack us a basket of food.
What do you think Mr. Ingham would prefer?”

A smile lit up Georgette’s pretty
face. “Believe me, anyone who has tasted your bread will be most satisfied. Do
we have any cheese left?”

“Yes, just enough for the trip. Can
you finish folding the dresses while I go bake a batch of fresh bread?” Isabel
asked.

“Of course, dearest.”

Isabel kissed her sister’s cheek
and walked out of the room. She would try hard to banish her sadness and enjoy
the coming adventure. What would London be like? What kind of invitations would
they receive? Was Mrs. Quinn a regular attendee at the dances? She’d never been
to a dance before. She wondered if any gentlemen would ask her to dance, or
would she be left hugging the wall all evening? She shook her head to dispel
those negative thoughts as she walked into the kitchen. Of course, she and
Georgette would be asked to dance. Her sister was beautiful and would attract
the eye of every gentleman in the room. She just hoped there would be one or
two left over for her.

 

***

 

The
next morning Mr. Ingham knocked on the door at 9:00 o’clock sharp. Isabel
rushed to open the door. “Good morning, Mr. Ingham. How are you this fine day?”

“Well,
thank you, Miss Knott. Are you ladies ready and packed?”

“Yes,
our trunk is all set and I’ve prepared a basket of refreshments for our
journey.”

“Good.
Where is the trunk?”

“Upstairs.
The room at the end of the corridor.”

Mr.
Ingham turned to the two lanky boys waiting by the carriage. “Boys, go upstairs
and fetch the trunk.”

“Yes,
sir,” they said in unison and disappeared into the house. They returned moments
later, carrying the chest and strapping it down at the back of the carriage.

“Is
that all, sir?” the taller of the two boys asked.

“There
is a food basket in the kitchen,” Isabel said.

The
boy nodded and ran into the house. He quickly returned carrying the basket and
put it inside the carriage.

“Good
job. Thank you,” Mr. Ingham said, giving each boy his promised payment.

“I’ll
go check on Georgette,” Isabel said. “We’ll only be a moment longer.”

“Very
good,” Mr. Ingham said.

She
found her sister walking through the house one last time. “Are you well,
Georgette?”

Georgette
had pushed aside the white sheet and lovingly ran her hand over her father’s
favorite leather chair in the front parlor. “Oh, yes. I wanted to say goodbye,
that’s all. We may not be returning home for awhile.”

Isabel
held out her hand. “I know, but come now. Our adventure awaits.”

Georgette
nodded, pulled the sheet back in place and took her sister’s hand. “Yes, I’m
ready. Let’s go.”

The
two young women walked outside, closing the heavy oak door behind them. Mr.
Ingham helped them into the carriage and climbed in after them. He sat on the
seat opposite the sisters. He tapped on the roof and the driver flicked the
reins to get his team of horses moving.

“Mr.
Ingham, we cannot thank you enough for being our escort today,” Georgette said.

“Miss
Condiff, it is my pleasure. I knew your father for a good many years and it’s
the least I can do. I do so miss our lively conversations.”

“Did
you see him often?” Georgette asked.

“A
few times a year. He would stop by to check on his affairs and share a brandy
with me. It was always a pleasure to see him.”

“We
miss him too.”

After
their short exchange, the three fell into a comfortable silence. Isabel looked
out the window, taking in the countryside while Georgette settled back in the
cushions.

The
ride to London was long, but uneventful. They stopped at mid-day to enjoy the
goodies Isabel had packed for their lunch. Both the carriage driver and Mr.
Ingham complimented Isabel on the fresh bread.

Isabel
blushed. “Thank you kindly.”

“Very
thoughtful of you to pack us a lunch,” Mr. Ingham said. “An excellent excuse to
stop for a while and enjoy the day, don’t you think?”

“Yes,
indeed. The countryside is lovely. This is the farthest I’ve ever been from
home,” Isabel said.

Mr.
Ingham turned toward Georgette. “Miss Condiff, are you holding up well enough?”

Georgette
nodded. “I am fine, thank you. No need to worry.”

“Well,
we’d best be on our way again,” Mr. Ingham said. He stood and offered both
Georgette and Isabel a hand. While he escorted them back to the carriage, the
driver folded the blanket and secured it and the food basket in the back.

The
countryside flew by, and in late afternoon, the carriage finally stopped in
front of Mrs. Quinn’s home.

The
driver hopped down from his seat and opened the door. Mr. Ingham got out and
said over his shoulder, “Please wait inside the carriage until I can be sure
Mrs. Quinn is at home.”

Georgette
nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Ingham.”

Isabel
grabbed her sister’s gloved hand. “We’re here. Isn’t it wonderful? London is
such a bustling city. I’ve never seen so many folks walking about before.”

“Yes,
indeed. But, I don’t mind telling you that I’m looking forward to retiring
early this evening.”

“Are
you feeling poorly?”

“No,
do not worry yourself, Isabel. I’m tired from the long drive, that’s all. A hot
cup of tea will do wonders for me.”

Before
Isabel could probe any further, Mr. Ingham was back at the carriage. “Come,
ladies. Mrs. Quinn is expecting you.” He held out his hand and helped them both
out of the carriage.

Mrs.
Smithfield, the housekeeper, stood at the door. “Please come this way. Mrs.
Quinn is waiting in the parlor.”

The
trio followed her into the front parlor where a lovely, silver-haired woman sat
on the sofa. Iris Quinn's soft blue dress was elegant in its simple design and
complimented her eyes. Around her neck, she wore a beautiful sapphire necklace,
and small sapphire earrings graced her ears. The parlor itself was
well-appointed
, and reflected the elegance of its mistress.

“Welcome,
my dears,” Iris said as she stood to greet them.

Mr.
Ingham gave her a bow. “Mrs. Quinn, may I present Miss Georgette Condiff and
Miss Isabel Knott.”

Both
girls curtsied.

“Thank
you for your generosity in hosting us, Mrs. Quinn,” Georgette said.

“Nonsense,
it’s you who are doing me the favor. I haven’t had the pleasure of company in
this house for a good long while. No need to stand on formality. Please have a
seat.”

Georgette
and Isabel took the chairs opposite the sofa and sank down in the opulent
cushions.

“Mrs.
Smithfield, please have the driver bring their trunk upstairs.”

“Yes,
Mrs. Quinn. Right away, ma’am,” the housekeeper said as she scurried out of the
room.

Iris
took her seat on the sofa. “Mr. Ingham, would you care to stay for tea? You
must be parched after your long drive.”

“Thank
you kindly, Mrs. Quinn, but I must decline. I have secured rooms for my driver
and I at the inn not far from here and I’d like to get there as soon as
possible to bed down the horses for the night.”

“Of
course, perhaps tomorrow you can join us.”

Mr.
Ingham shook his head. “I’m afraid I must be returning home tomorrow, but if
there is anything you need or anything either Miss Condiff or Miss Knott
require, please do not hesitate to contact me. I am quite at your disposal.”

“Of
course, thank you for escorting my guests today. I wish you a safe journey
home.”

Mr.
Ingham gave Iris a bow and turned toward Georgette and Isabel. “Ladies, good
evening. I hope that you enjoy your stay in London.”

“Thank
you for everything, Mr. Ingham,” Georgette said.

“Yes,
thank you,” Isabel chimed in.

“Again,
it was my pleasure,” Mr. Ingham said as he walked out of the room.

It
wasn’t long before Mrs. Smithfield returned with a tray of tea and
refreshments. She poured and handed each of them a steaming cup. “Will there be
anything else, Mrs. Quinn?”

“Would
you please check with Rachel and have her unpack our guests’ trunk.”

“Oh,
I can do that,” Isabel offered.

“Nonsense,
dear. Mrs. Smithfield will see to it that the housemaid has everything in order
in your room. You are my guests and I want you to enjoy yourselves during your
stay.

“We
have a maid?”

Iris
chuckled. “Of course, my dear. Every lady must have a maid to help her dress
and to keep her clothes tidy. I have secured the services of one maid to attend
to both of you, but if you’d prefer to each have your own, it can be arranged.”

“That
is not necessary. One maid will be most sufficient for my cousin and I,”
Georgette said.

Isabel
nodded. “Thank you, Mrs. Quinn. That is very kind of you.”

“Rachel
is an excellent worker. She will put your clothes in each of your bedrooms.”

“Bedrooms?
We don’t need two bedrooms and will be more than happy to share one,” Georgette
said.

“Are
you sure? There is plenty of room.”

Other books

The King's Bishop by Candace Robb
The Mandala Maneuver by Christine Pope
Powers by Deborah Lynn Jacobs
Shift by Rachel Vincent
Someone Else's Dream by Colin Griffiths
A Far Justice by Richard Herman
Suleiman The Magnificent 1520 1566 by Roger Bigelow Merriman
The Scarlet Pepper by Dorothy St. James
Caradoc of the North Wind by Allan Frewin Jones
CONCEPTION (The Others) by McCarty, Sarah