The Husband Trap (40 page)

Then Adrian arrived.

She shared a broad smile of welcome with him. He’d changed clothes, she saw. When he bent to press a brief kiss upon her lips, she caught the pleasant scent of shaving soap that lingered on his skin.

He turned to greet her family.

He went first to her mother, exchanging a warm, familial hug and words of welcome. Next, he shook hands with her father, then her brother. Both men managed somehow to tear themselves away from their plates long enough to obey the dictates of good manners.

Finally, he turned to Jeannette.

Adrian hesitated, shoulders stiff. Violet didn’t believe anyone else noticed his reluctant displeasure.

Jeannette held out her hand.

He bowed over it, quick and perfunctory. “Lady Violet.”

If Jeannette heard the razor-edged tone as he said her “name,” she gave no indication, her smile pretty and sweet. “Your Grace. Or may I call you Adrian? We are brother and sister now, after all.”

“As you will, my lady.”

Duty done, he accepted the cup of tea Violet prepared for him, moved to take a seat on the sofa directly opposite the one on which Jeannette and the countess sat.

Adrian played the polite host, entertaining them all. As he spoke, smiled and laughed, Violet noticed he barely glanced at Jeannette.

By the time Mrs. Litton arrived to escort them to their rooms, a line had settled between Jeannette’s brows. She might be pretending to be Violet, but if there was one thing Jeannette could not abide, it was being ignored.

Thankfully, Jeannette held her tongue.

As the family moved after the housekeeper into the hallway, Jeannette slipped up next to Violet. “Come to my room this evening,” she whispered. “We need to talk.”

She met her twin’s eyes for an instant, nodded a quick agreement before Jeannette moved away.

A familiar hand slid over Violet’s shoulder moments later. “What did she want?” Adrian asked.

“To speak to me in private.”

“No doubt she chafes beneath her role. Perhaps we should simply confess the truth to your family and end this farce.”

She turned, gazed up at him. “No. All will be well, you’ll see. Something happened in Italy. She’s unhappy in a way I’ve never seen her.”

“Hmm, that’s exactly what worries me. Your sister is just spoiled and selfish enough to find a way to take her misery out on you. I don’t want her ruining your enjoyment of this entertainment you’ve worked so hard to arrange.”

“She won’t. I won’t let her.” She rested her hands on his chest. “I love you. You love me. And nothing she says can disrupt our happiness.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that, but very well.” He sighed. “I suppose she is your sister, and I’ll have to resign myself to seeing her upon occasion.”

“Yes, you will. And do your best not to ignore her completely. It only incites her ire.”

“Good. She deserves feeling a bit of ire now and again.” He leaned down, pressed his lips to hers, slow and sweet. “Still, I suppose I should be grateful to her.”

“How so?”

“If she hadn’t convinced you to switch places, I might be married to
her
now.” He gave an exaggerated shudder.

She laughed, and looped her arms around his neck to bring his mouth back to hers for another long kiss.

It was late, the house grown quiet for the night, when Violet knocked softly upon her twin’s bedroom door.

Jeannette peeked out. “Where have you been? I thought perhaps you’d decided not to come.” She pulled the door wide for Violet to enter.

“I was delayed,” Violet said as she crossed the threshold. “Mrs. Litton needed to discuss arrangements for tomorrow’s breakfast. Then I had to change out of my evening gown.”

They eyed each other. Both wore nightdresses and robes, their long hair brushed and tied back with ribbons. They were identical except for the color of their attire; Violet in deep blue, Jeannette in creamy white.

It brought back memories of their childhood days when they’d slept in the third-floor nursery, whispering together well after their bedtime. Often Nanny had to come in to shush them for their disobedience.

But they were grown women now, free to do as they wished. The days of girlish camaraderie long since past.

Jeannette gestured toward a chair. “Sit, sit. I have something for you.”

Violet perched on the chair’s edge and waited. “You didn’t need to bring me anything.”

Jeannette burrowed through some of the clothes in her portmanteau. “Don’t be silly, of course I did. I wanted to. Here.” She thrust out a small box, tied with a length of jonquil-colored ribbon.

Violet paused briefly, then accepted it. She opened the box, to reveal an intricately carved pin nested on a bed of velvet. “A cameo. It’s beautiful.”

“You like it?”

She traced a finger over a tableau of tiny birds and flowers carved into the carnelian oval. “It’s exquisite. How could I help but like it.”

“I knew you would.” Jeannette beamed. “I found it in a small shop in Tuscany and immediately thought of you. I barely haggled with the shopkeeper over the price, I just had to have it.”

“Well, thank you. It’s gorgeous. Truly.” She rose and gave her sister a hug. “I love it.”

“Let’s see how it looks.” Jeannette fastened the brooch onto Violet’s robe. “Perfect.”

Silence fell between them.

“So, is the gift why you asked me here?” Violet asked after a time.

“Of course. And to visit,” Jeannette added.

“Visit?”

“Yes, it’s been almost a year since we’ve seen each other. I thought we’d chat. Can’t a sister just want to chat?”

The notion took Violet by surprise since she and Jeannette had stopped sharing late-night confidences many years ago. “All right. What should we discuss? Italy, perhaps? You’ve barely mentioned your trip.”

Jeannette sighed. “I haven’t mentioned it because there’s little to say. Except for some tolerable shopping, there’s virtually nothing to do there. Aunt Agatha and I traveled around, looked at ruin after ruin, castle after castle. We ate strange foods with strange-sounding names like linguini and cannelloni. Half the time, we sat fanning ourselves against the heat and beating the pollen off our skirts from all the odious olive trees.”

“From what you said in your letters, you seemed to be enjoying yourself. I thought there were a great number of parties and entertainments for you to attend.”

“There were, and at first I did enjoy myself. But the novelty soon wore thin.”

“No fascinating suitors? What about that prince you mentioned?”

Jeannette fluttered a dismissive hand. “I had plenty of suitors—even pretending to be you. They prowled around my feet like a pack of yowling tomcats.”

“But you weren’t interested?”

“I have no wish to inure myself permanently in such a hothouse of a country.”

“So you missed England?”

“Of course I missed England.”

“And nothing else occurred?”

“What do you mean?” Jeannette demanded, her eyes narrowed.

“Toddy Markham. I know he went to Italy to find you. Did he?”

Her twin rounded on her. “Pray don’t mention that cad’s name in my presence ever again. He’s a contemptible swine. He’s so low he doesn’t even deserve to lick the bottom of my shoes. He…he—” She broke off, unable to continue. A tear trailed down her cheek.

Violet hurried to wrap an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Shh, you must tell me what he did to hurt you. Is that why you seem so unhappy? I couldn’t help but notice.”

They sank together onto the bed.

“I thought he loved me,” Jeannette cried. “He said he couldn’t live without me. Then he met
her.
” She dabbed at her eyes with the edge of her robe. “The Contessa d’Venetizzo. Overblown Italian cow. She arrived at a masquerade Markham and I were attending, and she seduced him away.”

“I don’t understand. Why would he suddenly change his mind, switch his affections so abruptly?”

“I don’t know,” Jeannette moaned. “Because he’s a beast, a black-hearted, money-hungry beast. I can’t remember all the particulars now, but I may have mentioned the fact that, as you, I would receive almost nothing for a dowry. And as myself it wouldn’t be much better. Apparently he didn’t realize Papa’s pockets are so badly to let. He envisioned a large settlement if we were to marry. I said there would be none. After that, well, his eye began to roam, and it landed upon her.”

“Jeannette, I’m sorry.” She reached out to lay a comforting hand over her sister’s.

Jeannette shook off her touch, jumped to her feet. “She’s a rich widow. Young, and some claim, beautiful—though I could never see the attraction myself—with masses of dark hair, and breasts like overripe melons. I suppose some men like that sort of thing.”

She paced, working herself into a lather. “Well, he can have her, and I hope they make each other thoroughly miserable. I hope she tires of him and kicks him out into the streets to beg with the paupers. And to think I gave myself to him,” she wailed, tears starting again. “Oh, how could I have been such a fool?”

Violet moved again to offer a consoling touch. “Shh, it will be all right, you’ll see. In time, you’ll forget him and find someone better. Someone you love who truly loves you back.”

“No, there’ll never be anyone better. Nothing will ever be right again.” Jeannette sniffed, blew her nose into a handkerchief, her tears gradually drying. “Which is why I’ve come to a decision.”

“What sort of decision?” Violet ventured, suddenly wary.

“The things I did—leaving Raeburn at the altar, forcing you to switch places with me, forcing you to live my life in my stead. Well, it was wrong. The selfish and immature act of a foolish, desperate woman. So I’ve decided to make it right.”

Jeannette straightened her shoulders, faced her. “I know how perfectly dreadful these past months must have been for you. How you must have suffered. Managing a household, coping with Society and the demands of being married to one of the most influential men in England. I know what a strain our deception has been for
me.
I can only imagine the nightmare ordeal you’ve had to endure.”

“It hasn’t been so bad.” A nervous twinge of warning ran down Violet’s spine.

“Oh, you don’t have to pretend, not with me. You’ve done an excellent job, mind you, assuming the mantle of the Duchess of Raeburn. You’ve done so well, you’ve surprised even me. But it’s a burden I’m prepared to lift from your shoulders. I’m ready now to do my duty, accept the responsibility that was rightly mine from the first.”

Violet’s brows creased in dawning disbelief. “I don’t think I entirely understand.”

“I’m here to rescue you, don’t you see? I’m ready to be myself again, to switch back. You’ll be Lady Violet Brantford again, and I’ll be Her Grace, Jeannette Brantford Winter, Duchess of Raeburn.”

Violet leapt to her feet. “No you won’t.”

“Of course I will. I am tired of pretending to be you. I want to be myself again.”

“You may be tired of it, but switching back will never work. For one thing, you’re not married to Adrian, I am. For another, he knows.”

It was Jeannette’s turn to frown. “Knows what?”

“About us. About you and me, and what we did. He knows we switched places. He knows who we really are.”

“Well, no wonder he’s been staring at me in such a peculiar manner all afternoon and evening. When he bothers to look at me at all, that is. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way he’s been avoiding me. I was beginning to wonder just what it was you had done to offend him.”

“I haven’t done anything,” she shot back, struggling to rein in her escalating temper. “It’s what we did together to offend him. He was very angry when he found out the truth.” She shivered, remembering just how close she’d come to losing him. “Furious, actually, as he had every right to be. He nearly ended our marriage, or what we assumed was a marriage. Turns out we weren’t legally wed.”

“What?”

“I used a false name, remember?
Your
name, which voided the marriage in the eyes of the law. He and I had to take vows again to make it legal, but never mind that now. What you need to understand is that Adrian realizes who I am. He knows I am Violet.”

Jeannette’s eyes were wide. “And Raeburn’s willing to maintain this pretense?”

“I convinced him not to reveal the truth. Oh, Jeannette, just think of the scandal. It isn’t right to shame our families, hurt our friends, simply because we’ve perpetrated such an outrageous lie.”

Jeannette resumed her pacing, a deep scowl creasing her forehead. “Which means, I suppose, that I am to go on living my life as you.”

“And I as you. Maintaining our masquerade may not be the easiest solution, but it seems the only fair one.”

“Fair? I see nothing fair about any of this.” Jeannette’s lower lip quivered. “You never cared anything for Society but I do. I’m the one who was supposed to be the duchess. I’m the one who should be mistress of this beautiful house. And if we hadn’t traded places the day of my wedding, I would be. It seems to me you’re the one who’s not being fair. You have no right being married to my husband.”

Violet gasped. “Your husband? I’m married to
my
husband, the man you didn’t want. The man you tossed aside and would have callously humiliated in front of the entire Ton. You betrayed and deserted him for another man. The day we switched places is the day you gave up all rights to Adrian.”

She had to draw a deep breath before she could continue. “Besides, you don’t even want him, not really. You only want his wealth, his title, his influence. Well, you can’t have them or him. I’m his wife, the woman he married. The woman he loves.”

A willful gleam shone in Jeannette’s gaze. “Are you so certain of that? It seems to me Raeburn was content for months, believing himself married to me. Even now he can barely tell us apart. I’ll bet if I quit wearing these silly spectacles of yours, he wouldn’t know one of us from the other.”

The accusation hit Violet like a hard slap. Old insecurities, old inadequacies springing back to life full-blown. She fought the doubts.
Not true,
she told herself,
not true at all.

“He
can
tell us apart,” she defended, rubbing the gleaming amethyst ring on her left hand like a talisman. “Adrian knows who I am. He loves
me.
”