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Authors: Susan Gee Heino

Damsel in Disguise (31 page)

BOOK: Damsel in Disguise
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Most likely they would simply deliver the note to a groom who would then carry it to Loveland. That would require time and effort to prepare a mount. Julia was counting on that in order for her own plan to work. She would wait until the footmen had gone back to their posts indoors and then stroll leisurely into the stables.
As she was convincingly dressed in trousers and a fine coat, the stable hands should have no trouble recognizing her as one of their master’s houseguests. Hopefully, none of them had been informed of her status as a mute Italian. Why should they, after all? No one ever expected her to come out here.
She would simply present them with her letter for Papa and ask that it be delivered with the other. For good measure, she thought it best to announce that Dashford himself had authorized this addition. Who would question such a simple request? The grooms would happily oblige, and her letter of warning would be on its way to Papa in no time.
She waited quietly in the dark. The footmen delivered their message into the stable and, as expected, were soon heading back toward the house. Julia tucked herself behind a flowering shrub and waited. Thankfully, they didn’t dawdle—she was alone again in mere minutes. She would be free to scuttle into the stable and speak to the grooms before anyone had left for Loveland.
Except that she wasn’t alone. Someone was tugging on her coat.
Julia whirled around to find Penelope in the shadows behind her. Heavens, when did she get here? It was all Julia could do to stop herself from squeaking in feminine surprise. Penelope shivered in her light gown and smiled coyly up at her, one ivory hand still laid meaningfully on Julia’s arm. Well, drat. This was a bother she certainly did not need just now.
“Were you looking for me, Mr. Nancini?” Penelope asked softly.
Julia shook her head. Vehemently.
“I was afraid you did not recognize the message behind my smile at dinner tonight,” Penelope went on. “But I’m so glad you did.”
Oh, but this was awkward! However was she to extricate herself from this without making an absolute cake of it?
“Come, come, Mr. Nancini. Surely this cannot be the first time you have met a young lady out in the garden in the night?”
Well, actually . . .
“They do have such lovely gardens here, don’t they?” Penelope said as she slipped her arm into Julia’s. “So very romantic. Are you quite fond of romantic gardens, Mr. Nancini?”
Julia was quite certain she would never be fond of gardens again. Oh, but whatever was she to do? She didn’t dare give up her ruse, not with Fitzgelder so near, but she couldn’t very well let Rastmoor’s little sister seduce her out here, either. Heavens, but what a pickle.
She tried to gently pry Penelope’s hand off her arm. It wouldn’t budge. The girl might appear young and helpless, but Julia found quite an iron will behind that sweet expression. Wonderful. This was not going to make things any easier.
“My, Mr. Nancini, but you do have the softest hands,” Penelope said then gave a wistful sigh.
Merciful heaven, she had to get out of this. What on earth had she done to cultivate this ill-placed infatuation? True, she’d been purposefully entertaining and perhaps a wee bit more charming than necessary, but did she deserve this? Penelope clung to her like a weedy vine, batting her eyes and smiling incessantly. Not good. This could only end badly for the poor girl, and Julia—though she would have never thought it possible—was beginning to feel like a cad.
Perhaps it was time for the truth. Yes, that was the only recourse. She would admit to her lies and hope Penelope might not run to Fitzgelder with the story. God, but this was a prickly patch she’d grown for herself.
“Mr. Nancini, you seem so tense,” Penelope cooed. “Are you nervous here with me? Come, sit with me in this quiet corner where I might console you.”
Console her?
Good Lord, she was quite certain she needed none of that.
“No! No, I’m quite fine,” Julia exclaimed. By God, just what sort of innocent and sheltered little sister did Rastmoor have?
And then she remembered that Mr. Nancini could not speak. Drat. She’d just cried out—in flawlessly executed English. What would Penelope make of that? Julia took a moment from prying those fingers off her arm to spare a quick glance at the girl. Indeed, she was perplexed by what she saw. Far from being shocked, Penelope’s eyes showed she was laughingly amused. Really? Was the girl daft, or something?
She didn’t get the opportunity to ask. Suddenly she was aware of human sounds nearby, and she looked over her shoulder just in time to find Rastmoor pushing his way through the foliage. He appeared to be wearing the shock on his face she’d expected to find on Penelope’s. Oh, botheration.
“What the devil—” he began. “What are you doing out here?”
Julia wasn’t quite certain if he’d posed the question for her or for Penelope, but she figured this was an excellent time to fall back into her role as a mute. Penelope, however, seemed to think this was an excellent time to provoke her brother.
“What does it look like we’re doing?” she asked boldly.
Julia glared at her. Heavens, but the girl truly
was
daft. Didn’t she understand what this would look like?
“Penelope! Who is this?”
Julia glanced over her shoulder again to find that Rastmoor was not alone. He was accompanied by—oh, Lord—Fitzgelder. Good grief. Things were not getting better.
“Why, Fitzy! I rather thought my brother would have turned you out to the elements by now,” Penelope said.
Fitzgelder appeared to be having the same reaction to that ridiculous nickname as Julia was having to the way Penelope cuddled up against her. Rastmoor appeared unable to know exactly how he should be reacting to any of this. Julia tried to catch his eye and silently share some of the helplessness she felt just now, but he eluded her. Probably for the best, though. It certainly would not help matters if the others were to question why Lord Rastmoor and his male companion were making eyes at each other while the former’s sister clung tenderly to the latter’s arm.
“I was in the process of sending your dear ‘Fitzy’ on his way when I was informed you’d disappeared,” Rastmoor told his sister. “What on earth is Mr. Nancini doing to you?”
What? He was accusing her of “doing” things to Penelope? Now he was daft, too. As if she was equipped to “do” anything to Penelope! Quite frankly, Julia was beginning to wonder if
anyone
was capable of “doing” anything to Penelope. It seemed to her Rastmoor’s sister was the one most likely to be doing the “doing.” And Julia, for one, would have very much liked her to stop.
It would seem Mr. Fitzgelder agreed. “Nancini? Hell, Rastmoor, so you would lie to your own sister? Poor, sweet Penelope. You’ve been deceived. Mr. Nancini is a sham!”
Julia’s pulse pounded in her ears. Fitzgelder knew who she was! Somehow he knew, and he was furious. What would he do to her now that he’d finally found her? What would he do to Rastmoor or Penelope?
“He is?” Penelope said but didn’t push herself away from Julia as one might have expected. Despite the implication of Fitzgelder’s announcement, Penelope’s voice remained sugary sweet. “Anthony, you’ve brought a stranger into our midst and lied about who he is? For shame!”
“This is pointless,” Rastmoor said, finally trying to control the situation. It was a bit late by Julia’s estimation, yet he continued valiantly. “Why don’t we all go inside and forget about this?”

Forget
about it?” Penelope gasped at the mere mention of such a thing. “You expect me to simply forget what’s passed between me and Mr. Nancini here tonight? Never! I could never.”
Lord, but Julia was confused. Just what exactly
had
passed between her and the younger woman tonight?
“Damn it, his name is not Nancini!” Fitzgelder said. “He’s lied to you, Penelope.”
“I don’t care,” she declared. “Since the first moment our eyes met, I knew we shared a bond. Names mean nothing; underneath, I’m convinced we’re two of a kind.”
Well, Julia had to admit, Penelope did rather have a point there.
“He’s a liar and a blackmailer,” Fitzgelder announced.
“I don’t believe you.”
Now Rastmoor stepped in again. “Penelope, really. There are some things you don’t quite understand.”
“I understand more than you know,” Penelope said, but her childlike pout and whining tone made it unconvincing. “However, I daresay if you hadn’t interrupted us so rudely just now, I’d have understood a considerable bit more.”
“Good Lord, Penelope!” Rastmoor said.
Julia was more than grateful they’d been interrupted when they were. There were some lessons she’d much rather not have a hand in teaching the eager Penelope.
“And how do you know what I do or do not understand?” the girl said, facing her brother. “You haven’t been interested in anything—or anyone—since that, well, since that incident three years ago.”
Here she sidled up to Julia again and slipped her hand through her elbow. “It’s really quite tragic,” she said softly for Julia’s ears alone. “The poor sap’s been nursing a broken heart all this time. I wonder if he’s mentioned that to you?”
For the first time a shudder of understanding ran through Julia’s spine. She briefly met Penelope’s eyes and knew: Penelope was playing a game here. What it was, exactly, Julia could have no idea. But clearly Penelope was not as uninformed as they’d all assumed. Somehow she’d seen through Julia’s disguise. She
knew
who she was.
Julia shot a glance toward Rastmoor. He still fumed at what he obviously assumed was his sister’s headlong attempt at disgracing herself. Whatever Penelope was up to, she certainly hadn’t informed her brother. Nor did Fitzgelder seem to have a clue. He glowered possessively.
“Don’t listen to anything he tells you, Penelope,” Fitzgelder warned. “You’re too young and unsophisticated to recognize his lies.”
Penelope frowned. “Really? I should think it would be easiest for those with a clear and honest conscience to recognize a lie when they hear one.”
“Come, let’s take this indoors. We don’t—” Rastmoor began, only to be cut off.
“Oh, thank God, you found her!”
It was Lady Rastmoor rushing up beside her son. Penelope just smiled. She kept herself uncomfortably close to Julia, too, unfortunately. The lady took quick note of that.
“Hello, Mother,” Penelope said sweetly. “Were you looking for me?”
“Yes, by God, we were. You were not in your room, and with Fitzgelder prowling around . . . for heaven’s sake, do stop hanging on Mr. Nancini like that. What on earth is going on out here?”
“I was just asking Anthony what he thought about me marrying Mr. Nancini,” Penelope announced.
“You were not,” Rastmoor said.
“I was about to!” Penelope shot back. “I think Mr. Nancini would make a wonderful spouse. He’s so gentle and witty. And he has the softest hands!”
“Bloody hell,” Rastmoor grumbled.
“But Penelope,” Fitzgelder said, “you are going to be married to me!”
Lady Rastmoor sucked in a wheezing breath. “Gracious! Anthony, you most certainly did not agree to any such a thing, did you?”
“No, of course not, Mother. I—” Rastmoor said but was interrupted again.
This time it was Lord and Lady Dashford joining their little party. Julia thought to take advantage of everyone’s distraction to try again to pry Penelope’s fingers from her arm. It was useless. The girl had the grip of a falcon.
“Good,” Lord Dashford said upon assessing the situation. “I see you’ve found the missing female.”
“How silly that everyone thought I was missing!” Penelope giggled. “I’ve been here with Mr. Nancini all along. But I’m afraid Anthony thinks we must be married after this.”
“I most certainly do not!” Rastmoor assured them all. Very likely he assured the entire county, the way his voice rose and echoed in the damp evening air.
Now Lady Dashford joined the other lady in gasping from shock. “Married?”
“You can’t be married to him,” Fitzgelder said firmly. “You’re already engaged to be married to me!”
Penelope shrugged. “Oh, poor Fitzy. Our agreement was never official, of course. I said I might consider marrying you, but now that I’ve met Mr. Nancini, I’m afraid I’ve quite gone and changed my mind.”
“But you can’t,” Fitzgelder said, seemingly stunned that his plan could possibly unravel this way. “He’s . . . he’s already married to someone else!”
Now Penelope finally dropped her hand from Julia’s sleeve. “Already married?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Fitzgelder said, clearly relishing his role as bearer of truth. Poor man. Even when he tried to give accurate information it was, in fact, a lie. “I encountered him
and
his wife in London not three days ago.”
Lady Rastmoor was struggling to make sense of this. “Mr. Nancini has a wife?”
Fitzgelder gleefully went on. “Oh, yes. But this man is not Nancini. His real name is Clemmons, and he’s nothing more than an actor. His wife is a common harlot called Sophie.”
Everyone seemed to be quietly taking this in. Lady Dashford, however, suddenly lunged at Julia and grasped her shoulders. “Dear heavens . . . you’re
that
Mr. Clemmons? You’re Sophie’s husband?”
Julia nodded then shook her head. By God, she didn’t know what to say.
“Where is she? Is she well?” Lady Dashford rattled on. “Is she coming to Hartwood with you? Oh, no . . . the fire! Was she hurt in that fire?”
The lady’s questioning was quite enthusiastic. Julia looked up at Rastmoor for assistance. Fortunately, he nodded and took up the cause.
“Clearly an explanation is in order,” he said, clearing his throat to commandeer their attention. “Perhaps
now
we should all return indoors to get things sorted out?”
Julia would have truly liked to see how he might propose to do such a thing. As far as she could see, any explanation at this point would serve merely to create further conflict, not sort things out. What were the chances she could steal a horse and find her way to that cottage where Papa was camped right now? None, she had to admit. Drat it all.
BOOK: Damsel in Disguise
13.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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