BRIGHTON BEAUTY (23 page)

Again, Lord Rathbone ignored his cousin's pleas, and instead directed a question at his mother. "Why did you not show this to me earlier, Mother? And how did you come to possess it?"

Chelsea was highly interested in the answers to those questions herself.

"To say truth," Lady Rathbone began, "I haven't a clue who sent the portrait to me. Perhaps it was Sully. As to why I did not show the painting to you before now . . . which, of course, would have served to expose Miss Grant's perfidious activity . . . I expect I was waiting for the opportune moment. This, it appears, is it."

Silence descended for a spell, then Mr. Stephens, whom apparently everyone had forgotten was still standing there, said . . . perhaps a bit too brightly all things considered, "Well, then, now that we have established which one of these lovely young ladies is the real Miss Marchmont, may I suggest we get on with the ceremony?"

"I think that a splendid idea," Alayna said, elbowing her way into position beside Ford.

"Not so fast!" he snapped. "We still have not ascertained why Miss Grant has been at the castle these last weeks, purporting to be my cousin. If it were not for the money, then what . . . "

"I told you," Alayna interrupted, her tone impatient, "she had me kidnapped so she could marry you herself! I cannot think why you have not yet sent for the constable. Miss Grant should be locked up!"

"Alayna!" Chelsea sputtered afresh.

"Well, you should be!" She turned to Ford. "I expect the constable is just outside, along with the rest of the county." She glared at Chelsea. "My companion and I . . . I mean,
I
found it the outside of enough that there was a fair in progress . . . "

"You have a companion?" Ford said icily. "Pray tell, who might that party be?" His gaze on Alayna was frosty.

"Well, uh . . . " For the first time, she appeared at a loss. "You see, I-I was rescued, that is, my maid and I were rescued."

"Rescued?" Ford repeated flatly.

"That is correct. The experience was quite harrowing actually. But my . . . my knight was very brave. Very brave indeed."

"Your knight?" Ford echoed.

"Indeed." Alayna tilted her chin up. "The gentleman is quite dashing. He is an acquaintance of mine from London. If it had not been for him," she struck a tragic pose, "there is no saying what would have happened to me, or to my maid, Jane Ann."

"Very commendable," Rathbone muttered acerbically. "Now if you will please tell me this paragon's name?"

"Would you like to meet him?" Alayna seemed pleased.

"Indeed, I would," Ford replied, his tone calculated. He turned to the vicar. "Would you kindly fetch Miss Marchmont's escort for me, please? The gentleman's name, Alayna?"

"Mr. Harry Hill."

Chelsea's eyes widened as Ford's dark orbs narrowed with fury.

"Are you acquainted with him?" Alayna asked innocently.

Lord Rathbone's nostrils flared with rage. "Suffice to say, I have heard the name bandied about."

"Oh!" Alayna brightened. "I had no idea his talent as an actor was so wide spread! I am thrilled you want to meet him, Rutherford. If you please, Mr. Stephens, Mr. Hill is awaiting me below stairs in the foyer."

The vicar hurried from the chapel while before the altar Lord Rathbone's chest heaved with each breath he drew.

"I can assure you," Alayna said, "Harry will explain the entire affair . . . I mean, the entire
episode
to everyone's satisfaction."

"I am counting on that," Ford said icily.

"Well, I must say," Alayna prattled on, "I felt very fortunate that Mr. Hill happened along when he did. I cannot think what possessed you to do such a vile thing, Chelsea. She has always been jealous of me," she told Ford again. "Since we were girls at Miss Farringdon's Academy in Brighton. I recall telling you about the time she . . . "

Suddenly Chelsea could stand it no longer. "Alayna, this is unconscionable! You know very well I was only doing what you asked me to do! I would never do anything to harm you!"

"Oh, Chelsea, if only that were true. But you've simply no idea where I have been, or what I've been through these last weeks."

"I
should like to know where you have been these last weeks," Ford said frostily.

An uncomfortable silence ensued. Then, with a grunt, Lady Rathbone rose from her chair and hobbled forward. "Perhaps this will shed additional light on the matter." She cast a disgruntled look at Alayna as she handed her son a folded up piece of paper.

Both young ladies held their breaths as Rutherford unfolded the letter and scanned the words on the page. When he glanced up again, his eyes were as dark as midnight.

"What is it, cousin Ford?" Alayna asked sweetly.

As usual, Rathbone ignored his cousin and spoke instead to his mother, who stood leaning on her cane. "This does indeed clear things up, Mother."

"Splendid!" Alayna cried. "Then shall we resume the ceremony?"

Lord Rathbone directed an icy glare from one young lady to the other. "We shall resume nothing. The only vow I intend to make today is to remain unlegshackled to anyone for the remainder of my natural life!" With that, he flung the letter aside and charged up the aisle.

"Now look what you've done!" Alayna cried, casting a hurt look at Chelsea.

"Miss Grant has done nothing," Lady Rathbone declared evenly, "beyond fall in love with my son."

"H
ow could you, Chelsea?" Alayna cried, angrily pacing between the window and the bed in Chelsea's room where the two young ladies had adjourned following Lord Rathbone's exit from the chapel. "You knew very well that Rutherford was set to marry me!"

Chelsea slipped out of the lovely wedding gown she had been wearing and handed it to Dulcie who dutifully returned it to the clothespress. "You should have told Rutherford the truth just now, Alayna," she remarked.

"Why did
you
not tell him a month ago? If Rutherford were at the castle, there was no longer a need for
me
to be here. His presence alone would have satisfied the parish residency requirement."

"If I had confessed to Lord Rathbone then that I was not you, he'd have had me hanged!" Chelsea struggled with the hooks on the back of her own gown until Dulcie reached to help.

"You cannot expect me to believe that, Chelsea. Rutherford may have a short temper, but to have you hanged for such a minor transgression is doing it up a bit, don't you think?"

Chelsea parked both hands on her hips. "I was merely trying to protect you, Alayna, and myself, by continuing with the charade. Under the circumstances, it would not have been a great leap for your cousin to link me with Sully."

"Who is Sully? "
Alayna cried impatiently.

"He is the real kidnapper."

Alayna's brow puckered.

"Sully was the primary reason Lord Rathbone came to England in the first place." In short order, Chelsea explained the former overseer's plot to steal Lord Rathbone's inheritance and the abduction that resulted from it.

"Surely you can see why I felt the need to continue with the ruse," she concluded in a somewhat defensive tone, then turning to Dulcie, who had just completed the task of doing up her gown, she said, "Thank you, Dulcie."

The little maid then set to work on Chelsea's hair, undoing the elaborate coiffure she had created in order to set off the bridal veil.

"If you must know, Alayna," Chelsea added self-righteously, "this has been the absolute worst experience of my entire life."

Alayna's eyes rolled skyward. "Do spare me, Chelsea." She pranced to the window again and looked out. "You have obviously quite enjoyed pretending to be me. From the look of it, you meant to carry the pretense far beyond anything I intended." She whirled around to glare again at Chelsea. "I never gave you leave to marry him!"

"I was merely standing in for you!"

"Then how do you account for the fact that he knew nothing of it? When did you mean to tell him?"

Chelsea heaved an exasperated sigh. "If you had returned to the castle yesterday, this would never have happened. You could have attended your own betrothal ball and . . . "

"There was a ball?"

Chelsea nodded angrily.

"Oh!" Alayna pouted. "Well, I should have been here in plenty of time if you had not had me kidnapped so that you might attend the ball yourself and marry Rutherford today in my place!"

"I did not have you kidnapped, Alayna!"

"Of course it was you! Who else could it have been?"

Chelsea shook her head with dismay. "I haven't the slightest notion," she breathed. Nothing made sense anymore.

Alayna plopped onto the bed. "Thank heaven Harry happened along when he did. And, thank heaven he was able to overcome that . . . that frightful rustic who commandeered the coach and took us on a wild ride through the woods this morning. You can imagine my surprise, Chelsea, when we finally reached the castle and I saw the grounds full of people!
They
must have reached the castle by crossing the bridge."

"The bridge? What does the bridge have to say to anything?"

"Why do you continue to play the innocent with me? The man you hired to kidnap me used the excuse that the bridge was out to take us on the roundaboutation!"

Chelsea stared at Alayna as if she'd gone daft. "I swear to you, Alayna, I haven't the slightest notion what you are talking about." On impulse, she turned to Dulcie. "Do you know anything of this, Dulcie?"

Dulcie shrugged. "N-no, miss. Perhaps her ladyship could answer."

"Lady Rathbone? But, why would she . . . "

"Rubbish! Aunt Millicent would never set kidnappers on me. I still say it was you, Chelsea Grant. I should have known better than to trust you."

Chelsea swallowed an angry retort as she impatiently snatched the hairbrush from Dulcie's hand and began to yank it through her own hair. When the curls had been brushed out and her hair again hung smooth down her back, she jerked up her old flat chip bonnet and jammed it onto her head. With intermittent glares at Alayna, she hastily tied the ribbons beneath her chin. "I shall be on my way now. Dulcie, if you will please retrieve my bag for me."

Dulcie dove under the bed and dragged the worn valise forward. "Here you are, miss."

To forestall her departure, Alayna flounced to the door and positioned herself before it. "Before you go, I should like to know precisely how you and my cousin passed the time while I was away? A month is quite a long time to spend in a gentleman's company. I cannot help but notice that my doltish cousin has . . . well, changed a bit since last I saw him."

"Changed?" Chelsea murmured.

"He is . . . taller, and a good deal more . . . "

"Dashing."

"There!" Alayna's blue eyes snapped with fire. "I knew you were trying to steal him from me! Admit it, Chelsea, you were!"

"I will admit to nothing of the sort. I was merely doing what you asked of me, Alayna. And now that you have returned to the castle" . . . she shifted her valise to her other hand . . . "I shall be on my way."

Alayna reluctantly stepped aside. "With no parting word to Ford?" she chided.

Her free hand now on the doorlatch, Chelsea paused. "I hardly think your cousin is in a frame to receive me," she replied evenly. "Though I do intend to extend my apologies to Lady Rathbone before I depart."

A sudden scratch at the door made both young ladies jump.

"Who is it?" Alayna called out, whereupon a maid stuck her head around the doorjamb to announce that Lady Rathbone desired a private word with Miss Grant. "In her chamber, miss," the housemaid said.

"So," Alayna cast a triumphant look at Chelsea, "it appears my aunt has a good deal more to say to you before you go. Aunt Millicent can be quite foul tempered, Chelsea." With a gloating look, she headed for the looking glass to pat her own blond curls into place. "I intend to go to the fair. Perhaps I shall find my handsome cousin Ford on the grounds."

With no further comment to Alayna, Chelsea hurried to Lady Rathbone's suite. Encountering a solemn-faced Jared stationed outside the door, Chelsea smiled a bit wryly at the man.

"Her ladyship is expecting me," she said.

His features as impassive as ever, Jared replied, "Indeed, miss."

Advancing into the achingly familiar chamber, Chelsea spotted the older woman seated in her customary place on the worn sofa as she had so many times before while waiting for Chelsea to come and read to her. Suddenly, Chelsea collected the first time she had stepped into this room. The anxiety she felt now was not unlike what she had experienced then. "You wished to see me. Lady Rathbone?" she said quietly.

The woman glanced up. "Ah. There you are, Miss Grant." A hand indicated Chelsea's usual place across from her.

Instead of complying with the woman's wishes, however, Chelsea said, "I shan't be staying, ma'am. I am prepared to leave the castle straightaway." She set her valise down at her feet, and moved only a few steps closer. "I should like to say how very sorry I am for . . . "

"Please, do sit down, Miss Grant. I shall have Jared bring us a nice pot of tea."

Chelsea shook her head. "I have taken advantage of your hospitality far too long as it is, ma'am. I merely wanted you to know how terribly sorry I am for the mischief I have caused. I  . . . should never have let the . . . deception get to such a state. I am frightfully sorry, my lady."

"Do sit down, Miss Grant," the old woman insisted. When at last Chelsea complied, she went on. "I am not angry with you, my dear. I understand that you were merely endeavoring to keep your word to Alayna. I take it she wanted you to pretend to be her for the month preceding the wedding in order to satisfy the parish residency requirement. Was that not the case?"

Her lashes lowered, Chelsea nodded. "I suspected that you knew something was afoot."

"True. I did unravel the coil . . . eventually. Though by the time I recalled that my niece's eye were as blue as the sky and your's, gel, are nut brown, I admit I was enjoying your company far too much to turn you out." She smiled sadly. "It was not until Eudora's letter arrived a few days ago, the day you received one from 'Miss Grant', that I put the last of the pieces together."