The Magnificent Masquerade (16 page)

The dressing took a great deal of effort and
was accompanied by many sighs and groans, but when Miss Leacock held up a
mirror to Miss Alicia's face and declared that it was "truly astonishing
how the color manages to brighten your complexion," Miss Alicia looked
almost pleased with herself and declared that she felt a great deal better.
Taking that declaration as an opening to push Alicia into agreeing to other
adornments, Kitty urged the bedridden woman to permit-her to curl her hair "just
the way I did MissJessup's this morning." Alicia graciously acquiesced,
and Kitty reached for the curling iron, which Miss Leacock had already set
warming in the brazier in which she'd piled some glowing coals from the
fireplace. Never having handled a curling iron in her life, Kitty didn't
realize that the handle, also made of iron, became almost as hot at the tip
when it had been heating in the coals for any length of time. Ignorantly
grasping the handle in a firm grip, she received a painful shock. She dropped
the iron with a shriek and began to hop about the room, shaking her hand
vigorously to ease the burn. "Good God, girl, you didn't pick it up
without the holder, did you?" Miss Leacock muttered, thrusting a thick pad
into her hand. "How could you be so forgetful?"

"Sorry," Kitty said, wincing in pain.
Bravely trying to behave like any ordinary abigail to whom such accidents were
undoubtedly commonplace, she picked up the curling iron with the pad and set it
back in the brazier. Miss Leacock, evidently not intending to make a to-do over
Kitty's scorched palm, returned to her task of dabbing Miss Alicia's face and
neck with a wad of cotton soaked in the Honey Waters. Kitty, realizing with
some chagrin that abigails' minor injuries were not going to be given the
sympathy and loving care that a nobleman's daughter might expect in similar
circumstances, blew a cooling breath over her throbbing palm, gave it one last
shake, and set to work attempting to curl Miss Alicia's hair.

She was working on the third curl when Miss
Leacock looked up from her own work and began to watch what the younger abigail
was doing. After a moment, and with a strange look in her eye, she took the
iron from Kitty's hand. "I think, Emily," she said with quiet
firmness, "that I shall do Miss Alicia's hair myself, since I am more
familiar with what she likes. You may wash her with the aromatic lotion, if you
please."

When the work on the coiffure was completed,
Miss Leacock suggested that Miss Alicia permit them to powder her face and black
her lashes. The suggestion was immediately rejected. "You know what damage
the tiniest use of cosmetics does to my delicate complexion, Miss
Leacock," Alicia reminded her, waving away the paints and powders with a
shudder. But a last look at herself in the mirror that Miss Leacock held up for
her brought a smile to her lips. "You've done my hair very well, Miss
Leacock. Very well. I like the curls you've arranged to fall over my forehead.
It almost makes me seem a bit ..." She gave a tiny giggle as she tried to
think of an appropriate word. "... well, frivolous." But, as usual
with Miss Alicia, her cheerfulness was a fleeting emotion; one dark thought or
another always came along to cloud the little gleams of sunshine in her life.
"Oh, dear," she said, her smile dying away, "you don't think Dr.
Randolph will find the curls too frivolous, do you?"

"Oh, no, Miss Alicia, it's not in the
least frivolous," Miss Leacock assured her.

"I'd wager Dr. Randolph finds them so
attractive he'll accept your invitation to tea, just to see them again,"
Kitty ventured.

Miss Leacock threw her a look that said she was
going too far. But Miss Alicia only looked thoughtful. "Invitation to
tea?" she echoed faintly. "Why, I've never dared-"

"But of course you haven't," Miss
Leacock murmured soothingly, plumping up her pillow. "He would never come
to tea unless you were coming down. And he knows that you almost never feel
well enough to do so."

"Yes, that's quite true," Miss Alicia
agreed with a sigh. The subject was dropped. But by the time Dr. Randolph
arrived, the two abigails had propped Miss Alicia into a sitting position (by
piling up an additional four pillows behind her back), tied the neck ribbons of
the dressing gown into a charming bow at her throat, and (by dint of a great
deal of coaxing) pinched her cheeks into a faint glow of pink. The doctor was
so startled at the sight of her that he gaped. "Well, well," he
remarked, his face lighting up, "what have we here? Have you stumbled on
some miraculous cure?"

"No, of course not," Alicia said,
blushing. "I only put on this-"

"Miss Alicia followed your advice,"
Miss Leacock interrupted smoothly, "and did not take a single headache
powder since you left. I do believe her health is taking a turn for the
better."

"And about time, too," the doctor
said, crossing to the bed and taking his patient's narrow wrist between his
fingers. "I told you often enough, Alicia, that if you stopped relying on
these medications you would feel better. And now look at you! One day of restraint
and you're looking five years younger."

"Five years-!" Alicia smiled
beatifically. "You cannot mean it, Hugh!"

"Of course I mean it." Still holding
her hand, he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Now, when have you ever
known me to offer Spanish coin?"

At this point, Miss Leacock and Kitty tiptoed
from the room. As soon as they'd closed the door behind them, Kitty clapped
Miss Leacock on the back, gleeful despite the burning pain in her palm.
"I'd say that went very well, wouldn't you?" But Miss Leacock didn't
return her smile. "Never mind that," she said, frowning at Kitty with
narrowed eyes. "Who are you, miss?"

Kitty's high spirits were immediately quenched.
"Who am I? Wh-what do you mean?"

"Ye're no abigail, Emily Pratt. I've never
yet met an abigail who didn't know how to handle a curling iron. I'd hazard a
month's wages on your being some sort of imposter." Kitty looked at her
accuser with wide-eyed innocence. "But, Miss Leacock, I told you I'm not
really an abigail. I was maid-of-all-work at the Marchmont Academy. Miss Jessup
just hired me for a fortnight. She's keeping me as abigail until her visit here
is over, and then I'm to return to the academy." Miss Leacock shook her
head. Taking Kitty's two hands in hers, she said, "No maid-of-all-work has
hands like these. These hands haven't scrubbed floors or emptied slops in all
their existence. Are you going to tell me who you are and what we’re up to, or
shall I tell Mr. Naismith that we’re some sort of humbug?"

Kitty winced. "Tell Mr. Naismith? You
wouldn't!" The abigail crossed her arms over her chest decisively. "I

would and I will."

Kitty eyed the older abigail accusingly.
"I thought you were my friend."

"One can't be friends with someone who has
secrets."

"But you have a secret from me, don't you?
And yet I wish to be your friend."

Miss Leacock drew herself up in offense.
"What secret?"

"Your given name."

"Oh, pooh! That's a mere trifle ... and
not at all the same thing!"

"What if I swore to you that my secret is
as trifling as yours? Would you trust me and stay silent a little while?"

"I don't know, Emily. I don't see how such
a secret could be trifling. You might very well be up to something dreadful,
like robbing the family."

"That's stuff and nonsense. Do I look like
a robber to you?"

The abigail studied her intently. "Well,
no, but-"

"If I give you my word that-"

At that moment Miss Alicia's door opened and
the doctor emerged. "Ah, there you are, Miss Leacock," he said,
beaming at her over the spectacles that always seemed to slip halfway down his
nose. "I wish you to tell Lady Edith for me that I found Miss Alicia much
improved. Perhaps her ladyship can encourage her to take some exercise while
she is feeling so much better. Something simple, like a parade through the
picture gallery or a stroll through the gardens on the next balmy day. I know
it's too much to expect her to do any bending or stretching, but any little
exertion might bring her to a more normal way of life. In any case, tell her
ladyship that I'm encouraged. I'm very encouraged." He adjusted his
spectacles, put on his beaver, and started down the hall. "Oh, yes,"
he added, glancing back over his shoulder, "and tell her, too, that I've
accepted Miss Alicia's invitation to return later today, to tea."

"Good gracious," Miss Leacock
exclaimed in an awestruck whisper, staring after the doctor's retreating form,
"he said he's coming to tea! She actually asked him to tea!"

"See? I knew it would work," Kitty
said in triumph. "We make a good team, don't we, Miss Leacock?"

"I was beginning to think so," she
answered, eyeing Kitty dubiously.

"Are you still suspicious of me? Good
heavens, Miss Leacock, anyone can see I'm no criminal! I give you my
word."

Kitty's tone and expression were convincingly
earnest. "If I swear to you that I'm up to no harm, that my secret affects
nobody but me, and that I will reveal it to you very soon, will you keep still
about me 'til the end of our visit here?" Miss Leacock sighed in
surrender. She didn't really wish to bring trouble on the girl's head, for she
was becoming quite fond of her. Besides, she found the younger woman very
persuasive. "If you will swear that you're up to no harm ..."

"I swear it on my honor," Kitty
assured her.

"Very well then. I'll hold my tongue for a
while. But how soon-?"

"How soon will I tell you?" Kitty
laughed and planted a kiss on the older woman's cheek. "Right after you
tell me your full name."

Chapter Sixteen

Kitty, excited by her success with both Miss
Alicia and Miss Leacock, scurried to Emily's room to tell her the news. She
knocked at Emily's door and heard a muffled sound within that might or might
not have signified permission to enter. Puzzled, she opened the door carefully
and stepped over the threshold. To her surprise, she found Emily rising hastily
from the bed and making a feeble and completely unsuccessful attempt to staunch
the flow of tears from her eyes. "Emily," she exclaimed, quickly
closing the door, "whatever is amiss?"

"Everything," Emily stated flatly,
taking a deep breath and dashing the tears from her cheeks with the back of her
hand. "I've brought everything c-crashing down on our heads." Kitty
crossed the room to her side. "It can't be as bad as that, even if they've
found you out." With complete composure, she put an arm about Emily's
waist and led her to the bed.

"They didn't find me out," Emily
said, sinking down on the edge of the bed and expelling a trembling breath,
"but it's the next worse thing."

Kitty sat down beside her. "If they didn't
find you out, there is no next worse thing."

"Yes, there is. I've r-refused him, you
see."

"Refused him? Refused whom?"

Emily turned to stare at Kitty in surprise.
"Why, Toby, of course. Whom did you think?"

"Oh, him." She made a waving motion
with her hand that consigned Toby to eternal limbo. "Who cares about
him?" "Who cares? Good heavens, Miss Jessup, he fully expected to
marry me ... er ... you!"

"I don't give a fig for his expectations.
Don't tell me you were wasting your emotions weeping for the abominable Toby

Wishart!" She looked at Emily curiously.
"Were you weeping for him?"

Emily looked down at the hands locked together
in her lap. "No, I wasn't. I was weeping for myself. He ... offended me,
you see ... deeply offended me."

"What, again? I say, Emily, I hope you
slapped him this time."

Emily threw a quick, guilty look at Kitty's
face. "No, I . ." She shook her head and dropped her eyes again.
"I'd rather not speak of it. But I must tell you that it was when he spoke
of our ... your marriage that I lost my head. When he brought the matter up, I
became utterly flummoxed. You hadn't instructed me in what to say if the
subject came up, you see. I didn't know if you wanted me to pretend to accept
him, to say that this wedding was being forced on me, or to reject him. But
then, when ... when matters got out of hand, I ... I told him I wouldn't have
him even if he..." She twisted her fingers together tightly to keep them
from trembling. "... if he was the 1-last man on earth."

"Did you really say that?" Kitty
asked, wide-eyed. "I didn't think anyone ever said those words in real
life."

Emily covered her face in shame. "Well, I
d-did." Kitty could see that her friend needed comfort, but it seemed to
her that Emily was unduly upset. "Why are you taking on so?" she
asked. "I think it's perfectly splendid to have told him that, for it's
nothing but the truth." Emily slowly raised her head. "Is it the
truth, Miss Jessup? Are you sure you don't want him?"

Kitty blinked. "Why on earth do you think
we're enacting this masquerade in the first place?"

"I know why you began this enterprise, but
that was before you met him. Now that you've seen him, don't you feel even a
little less sure? After all, he is very handsome and d debonair ... and
ch-charming, in his way..."

"I thought you said he's a rudesby," Kitty
reminded her, watching her face through narrowed eyes.

"Well, yes, he behaves like a rudesby to
me-horridly so! -but I ... I think it's because I don't know how to ... to
handle him. Perhaps I bring out the worst in him."

"Are you suggesting that I might do better
with him? That I might find him debonair and charming?"

"Yes, I think it very possible."

Kitty got to her feet, put her hands on her
hips, and looked down at her friend with critical affection. "Do you want
to know what I think, Miss Emily Pratt? I think you are in the gravest danger
of falling in love with the fellow! I don't know why it is that the most
innocent females always are attracted to the greatest bounders, but it seems to
me that's just what's happened to you."