The Silver Coin (47 page)

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Authors: Andrea Kane

Tags: #Romance, #Historical

BOOK: The Silver Coin
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“Especially the one about when Monsieur Girard rescued his wife from that bad witch.” Holly’s eyes sparkled with her typical romantic excitement. “And then they got married and she found her papa, Lord Ryder. It’s like a fairy tale.”

“We can go in and ask if the Girards are coming.”

“We could. But even if they are, we’ll still be bored now.” Holly’s shoulders slumped. She paced around the hallway, her mind searching for something unique to do.

“There you are.” Miss Carter, the Chadwick governess, appeared at their sides. “Joanna, it’s bed time. You, too, Holly,” she added, turning to face the other child, who happened not to be Holly, but Joanna. “Your parents said you could sleep here tonight since it’s so late. Unless you’d rather go across the way and deep in your own bed? I could ask Wells to walk you home.”

Holly sighed, tugging at the governess’s sleeve.”I’mHolly, Miss Carter,” she informed her. “And I’d rather stay here. But Joanna and I aren’t tired. We wanted to be with the grown-ups for a while.”

“Oh.” Miss Carter gazed from one child to the other, exasperated by the mistake she seemed perpetually to make. Then again, the entire staff made it— with the exception of Wells and Hibbert. It was virtually impossible to tell Joanna and Holly apart. With only four months separating them, the two girls could pass for twins, just as their mothers could.

With regard to Holly’s request, Miss Carter knew that neither set of parents would object to having their children stay up later than usual. In fact, they enjoyed hazing them about. It was a pleasure seeing the genuine affection that existed between the Chadwicks and Lockewoods and their children.

“Well, perhaps a few more minutes then,” she relented. “But only a few.”

“Thank you, Miss Carter,” Joanna agreed. “We’ll come up in a little while.” She sighed as the governess headed off. “She still mixes us up.”

“Everyone does,” Holly said with a shrug.

“Except Hibbert and Wells. They always know who’s who. So do our parents.”

Holly’s entire face lit up. “That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“What we can do for fun. Remember what Mama told us about the game she and Aunt Breanna used to play? Let’s change dresses. Then let’s go into the dining room and try to fool everyone. You be me and I’ll be you. Just like our mamas used to.”

“They even fooled Wells.”

“We will, too. We’ll fool everyone.”

The girls rushed down the heft to the blue salon, where they quickly changed frocks, slippers, even hair ribbons.

“Make your hair messier,” Holly instructed. “Mine never stays as neat as yours.”

Joanna nodded, tying her ribbon, then tugging out a few strands of burnished heft, letting them topple to her cheeks. “How’s that?”

“Perfect.” Holly’s eyes glowed. “Now let’s go in there. Remember to keep twisting those loose strands of hair around your finger. Papa says I do that all the time.”

“And you bring in that new sketch I made,” Joanna urged. “The one of the pond. I promised Mama I’d show it to her tomorrow. But tonight would be even better.”

Holly’s nod was filled with enthusiasm. “You left it in the library for the ink to dry. We’ll get it on our way to the dining room. C’mon.”

Five minutes later, Joanna and Holly poked then-heads into the dining room—a far different dining room than the one their mothers had crept into more than twenty years ago when they’d been desperate to protect Breanna from her father’s wrath. Oh, the furnishings hadn’t changed much from when Stacie and Breanna’s grandfather had celebrated his sixtieth birthday. But the occupants had. So had the aura they exuded. Tonight there was no tension, no arguing, no resentment permeating the room.

Tonight, there was only love and laughter and contentment.

“May we come in and listen for a while before we say good-night?” Joanna asked.

Sipping at his coffee, Damen chuckled. “For a while? You’ve already been listening for an hour, only outside the door.”

Across the table, Anastasia laughed, beckoned the girls in. “Of course. Come in and hear all about Lord Ryder’s new granddaughter. She’s only a few months old.”

Joanna wrinkled her nose, remembering she was supposed to be Holly. “Is that what you’re celebrating?”

Anastasia nodded, although she knew what was corning.

“Does that mean she yells as loud as Cody?” Joanna demanded, rather enjoying her role as her more outspoken cousin.

Lord Ryder coughed—a cough that sounded suspiciously like a smothered chuckle. “From what I experienced during my visit there last week, yes, I must say she does yell. But not often, and not terribly loud.”

“Then that’s different.” Joanna gave Lord Ryder a reassuring look. “I don’t think you should worry. She’ll probably be okay. Cody’s a boy. They’re worse.”

“Not always,” Royce inserted dryly. “The entire staff was jolted out of sleep whenever Joanna bellowed.”

“Funny, it was the same with Holly,” Damen concurred. “I guess too many years have passed for our daughters to recall the din they created as infants.”

The girls exchanged disbelieving glances.

Ryder’s lips twitched, and he nodded his white head at the girl he thought to be Holly. ‘‘Thank you. I’m relieved to hear that the shouting will be minimal. I’m sure my Emma will be, too.”

“Are they coming here for Christmas?” the real Holly inquired.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Ryder beamed. “The whole family will be arriving in three weeks.”

“And we’ll have them over for a long visit,” Breanna inserted, anticipating her daughter’s request. “I’m sure Monsieur Girard and your father will keep you both up until the wee hours of the morning, telling stories.” She rolled her eyes. “And now that Quinn is almost three, he’ll probably want to stay up, too, along with Emma’s two older ones. It should be quite a gathering.”

“Don’t forget Damen and Wells,” Anastasia added, grinning wryly at Breanna. “They hang on to every word, just like the children. And Hibbert’s worse. He adds his own personal touches to each story.”

She and Breanna laughed.

In the process of pouring himself and Hibbert a brandy, Wells gave a dignified sniff. “I thought you two had gone to bed,” he questioned Joanna and Holly, striving for a measure of discipline. “Where is Miss Carter?”

“Upstairs. She said Holly and I could stay here for a little while.” Holly flashed rum a beatific smile, her cousin’s drawing clutched in her hands. “Please don’t be angry, Wells. We just wanted to see what you were celebrating. And to ask Lord Ryder if the Girards were coming to Kent for Christmas. Oh, and I wanted to show Mama this.” She waved the sketch in the all

Wells tried, and failed, to look stern. “Very well. But it’s late. You and Miss Holly can visit for ten minutes.”

“Well, perhaps fifteen,” Hibbert interjected, then glared defiantly at Wells, who scowled back, gearing up for another disagreement.

Royce rose from his seat at the head of the table. “We’d all like to see the sketch, moppet. Come in.”

Beside him, Lord Ryder rose, as well, ruffling Holly’s hair as she walked by. “Your daughter is delightful, Chadwick,” he praised Royce. “As beautiful and talented as her mother.” He turned to gaze fondly at Joanna. “And Holly is as dazzling and fiery as you, Anastasia. It’s astonishing to have two sets of such enchanting women in one household.”

“I have to agree.” Royce caressed Holly’s cheek. “Damen and I are lucky men. Our wives and daughters are incomparable treasures.” He took the drawing, placed it on the table so that Breanna and everyone else could see.

“The pond,” Breanna murmured, smiling. “It’s lovely. You’ve captured it all, right down to the two ducklings we saw there last week. We’ll have the drawing framed. You can hang it in the sitting room for everyone to admire.”

Joanna’s heart lurched with pride, but she was care-fro to let Holly act out her part.

“Thank you, Mama,” Holly said with all her cousin’s grace and presence. Joanna was a natural lady, just like her mama. Also like her mama, she was an incredibly talented artist. She took great pride in her drawings, as Holly well knew. Bearing that in mind, she received her Aunt Breanna’s praise with all the pleasure Joanna was feeling. “Ifs one of my favorites, too. Can we go into Town this week and pick out a frame?”

“I don’t see why not.” Breanna glanced at Royce, who nodded.

“How does tomorrow sound?” he asked.

“Perfect.” Holly beamed, but her mind was already elsewhere.

Joanna knew exactly where.

“Papa,” she chimed in, addressing Damen. “Can I go with them? I haven’t visited the House of Lockewood since Cody was born. Mr. Graff promised to show me how to count the money like you do at the end of the day,” she added, referring to the head gatekeeper at the bank. “Now that I’m older I’ll really appreciate it. Mama can come, too,” she suggested, sweetening the pot. “She can bring Cody. He hasn’t even seen where you work yet.”

Damen couldn’t hide his amusement. “I see your point. But, tell me, what if he decides to do some of that yelling you were referring to? How will my clients feel about that?”

“I’ll accompany Miss Stacie and the children,” Wells offered at once. He gave a conspiratorial wink to the girl he believed to be Holly. “I’m sure that between us, Miss Holly and I can keep Master Cody amused enough to limit his shouts.”

“And I’ll help Miss Joanna pick out a frame,” Hibbert announced to Royce. “My taste is exceptional, and you and Lady Breanna will have your hands full keeping Master Quinn from turning the shop into a woodpile.”

“A fine plan,” Royce concluded. “Consider it done.” He grinned as the two girls tried to restrain themselves from jumping up and down. “Now, I’d suggest you both go upstairs and get some rest. We don’t want you falling asleep dining your excursion.”

Without a word of protest, the two girls hugged their parents—both sets, so as to avoid figuring out who was supposed to be hugging whom—and curt-d to Lord Ryder. Then, they started to the door. Abruptly, Holly stopped, deciding that so grand an evening deserved an equally grand conclusion. She touched Joanna’s arm, then gestured for her to low.

Joanna complied, and the two girls walked back to Hibbert and Wells.

“Would you take us up?” Holly asked, her expression innocent. “Miss Carter might not have waited up and Holly and I can’t fall asleep without a story.” Wells beamed. “Of course, Miss Joanna. I’d be delighted.”

“You, too, Hibbert,” Joanna piped up. “I want to hear all about how you and Uncle Royce met Monsieur Girard.”

Hibbert stood up tall. “That’s one of my favorite stories, as well. It would be my pleasure to share it with you, Miss Holly.”

Holly placed her hand in Wells’s, and Joanna did the same to Hibbert.

The small entourage left the room, the girls beaming secretly at each other.

Royce waited until they’d gone.

Then, he leaned back in his chair, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “That was amazing.”

“An exceptional performance,” Damen agreed, his own laughter rumbling from deep in his chest. He shot his wife a pointed grin. “I wonder who they could take after.”

“We had nothing to do with this,” Anastasia denied a tonce, trying to speak between peals of laughter.

“That’s true.” Mirth danced in Breanna’s eyes. “They did this entirely on their own.”

“With no tantalizing stories from you to encourage them,” Royce teased.

Anastasia and Breanna exchanged glances, and dissolved into giggles.

“They’re going to be unfit to live with,” Anastasia said, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. “They not only fooled Wells. They fooled Hibbert, too.”

“Has anyone ever fooled Hibbert?” Breanna asked her husband.

“Now that you mention it, no.” Royce rolled his eyes. “God help us.”

Lord Ryder was gaping from one of them to the next. “May I ask what you’re talking about?”

“Certainly,” Royce supplied. “Forgive our rudeness. What you just witnessed was a clever impersonation. Two, actually. The girl you thought was Holly was, in fact, Joanna, and vice versa. They were very convincing, if I must say so myself.”

Ryder blinked. “Are you saying your daughters just switched places? And that they actually had us … well, some of us fooled?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Royce grinned. “And if Hibbert ever finds out he was duped, he’ll never be the same.”

“I doubt the girls will tell him,” Breanna pointed out. “They’ll want to savor their secret.”

“I agree,” Anastasia said.

Royce arched a questioning brow. “Shall we tell them we figured them out?”

“No.” Both women spoke simultaneously.

“I guess we have our answer,” Damen replied with a smile.

“I guess we do,” Royce acknowledged. Breanna reached over to take her husband’s hand, Stacie and I had our dreams. We’ve realized them all. Let our daughters have the same. Dreams can carry you a long way. As our grandfather always knew.”

 

Upstairs, the two girls giggled as they changed into their nightgowns. They kept their voices low, since Wells and Hibbert were positioned outside the door, waiting patiently to be summoned for storytelling. “We did it,” Holly hissed. “We even fooled Hibbert and Wells.”

“That’s even better than our mothers did,” Joanna declared proudly.”Theyonly had Wells to fool.”

“Let’s keep pretending until we go to sleep. That way it willreallybe an accomplishment. We’ll have fooled Wells and Hibbert for an even longer time, and without a roomful of people they can say distracted them—if they ever find out about our game. Whichthey won’t. But if we ever do decide to tell them …” Holly dimpled. “Think how smug we can be.” “Okay.” Joanna’s eyes sparkled, the notion of bestir Wells and Hibbert as appealing to her as it was to Holly. Her self-satisfaction, however, was short-lived, another, far less enticing, thought occurred to her

“We can pretend until we go to sleep,” she clarified, wrinkling up her nose. “But tomorrow I’m being me. I don’t want to spend the day at the bank.”

“That’s fine with me. I hate galleries, and I couldn’t choose one frame from another.” Holly responded without hesitation. “So we’ll switch back by morning. ”

“Agreed.”

Squirming into her nightgown, Joanna wandered over to the window, staring out across the grounds that her mother had gazed at for so many years of her life. But what she saw held none of the fear and loneliness her mother had known as a child, nor the terror she’d known as a young woman of twenty-one.

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