Chapter One #2
Oh, how she wished she’d stayed home. How she wished she hadn’t allowed Elizabeth to talk her into traveling halfway around the world as her companion.
If she’d stayed home, everything would still be the same.
What would her own parents think of this latest escapade?
They would no doubt be ashamed of her for not stopping Elizabeth.
“You are an inch taller than me, and your eyes are blue. Mine are violet. Our parents know exactly how to tell us apart. Everyone who knows us knows which one of us is which.”
“Yes, but Mrs. Dove-Lyon and the guests at the house party won’t,” Elizabeth countered.
Ashlyn lamented that this latest whim of Elizabeth’s would lead to trouble the likes of which they’d never encountered. She had lost count of the many schemes and shenanigans that her cousin had dragged her into. And it was all because of something that had happened in their childhood.
The one and only time Ashlyn had been the foolish one, wanting to walk along an old tree that had fallen across a stream.
Everyone, including Elizabeth, had taken the shortcut.
Except her. Ashlyn had always taken the long way around.
Elizabeth had practically dared her to cross using the fallen tree.
Ashlyn had almost made it the entire way when she slipped and fell into the fast-moving stream.
Elizabeth, being the stronger swimmer, had jumped in and pulled her out.
Luckily, she didn’t tattle on Ashlyn. She’d led Ashlyn back to the house, using a secret entrance through the servants’ quarters, and up to her bedroom.
They’d quickly changed into dry clothes.
Elizabeth had then bribed one of the young maids to wash the sodden garments for them in secret.
Her cousin had never told on Ashlyn, but Ashlyn had paid dearly for her silence.
For years, any time Elizabeth had wanted Ashlyn’s help to get away with some sort of foolishness, she’d drag up that day, reminding her of the great risk she’d taken helping Ashlyn. “I saved your life…and didn’t tattle…remember?”
It had been several years since Elizabeth had been able to manipulate Ashlyn’s guilty conscience with that reminder. Even if her parents did find out what she’d done when she was eight years old, they would most likely have a good chuckle about it now.
But this latest escapade was no laughing matter.
“Elizabeth, do you really want to take that risk? Especially after all the trouble and expense your parents went to bring us here?”
“Pish posh. What risk? We’ve been here scarcely ten days. No one in the ton knows what my eye color is, or yours, for that matter,” Elizabeth said, arms crossed and foot tapping. “And besides, there was that time when I saved you…”
There it was. But this time, Ashlyn was ready. “I was a child when that happened. But you are no child. And this time, I’m trying to save you!”
No matter what Ashlyn said, her cousin countered it, uncaring if her parents became angry.
“We’re nineteen years old. Most girls debut when they are sixteen, so as far as Society is concerned, we are practically spinsters!
We should be able to make our own decisions.
Besides, I have no interest in being matched by this Lyon woman,” Elizabeth huffed.
“That was the premise for this trip, Elizabeth,” Ashlyn replied.
“No. This was Mother’s wild idea. Mrs. Bessie-Whoever is someone from my mother’s past…a friend from her own London Season. Practically eons ago.”
“But Aunt Beatrice wrote to Mrs. Bessie Dove-Lyon specifically to ask her to plan an event whereby you could meet eligible bachelors. Proper gentlemen. Not some wild Italian artist. She even sent her a bank draft to cover any expenses.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I’ve already found my match. Matteo and I are in love.”
“Mrs. Bessie Dove-Lyon has already planned this event—at your mother’s urging,” Ashlyn continued, ignoring her cousin’s comment. “She’s an important person in London—the proprietress of the Lyon’s Den. Plus, we’ve already accepted her invitation to attend together.”
“Look, all you have to do is wear one of my ball gowns, do your hair the same as me, and flirt and dance with a few boring barons and eager earls, and then you can inform Mrs. Dove-Lyon that none of the bachelors appeal to you. You can just claim that Ashlyn had an attack of the megrims and that I—meaning you, who will be pretending to be me—insisted that Ashlyn remain at the hotel, where she could rest and recover.” Elizabeth winked, folding her arms over her chest.
Ashlyn could not help but admire just how clever and devious her cousin was. She would have made an excellent spy had she been a man.
“And it’s not like I’ll be leaving you in the lurch,” Elizabeth continued.
“I shall leave you more than enough of Father’s funds in the hotel safe.
You can access it anytime. It’s an exorbitant amount of money.
Well, except for the amount I gave Matteo for booking our passage on the ship bound for Italy.
He didn’t quite have enough, as some ancient dowager duchess refused to pay him for her portrait because he didn’t make her look like a twenty-five-year-old woman instead of a seventy-five-year-old crone—but it doesn’t matter, since what’s mine will soon be his,” she said with a shrug.
“Elizabeth, if he can’t even afford his own passage, let alone yours, what makes you believe he’s telling you the truth about anything? An Italian count’s son should have resources, I think, even if he is an artist.”
“Stop saying mean things. You just don’t understand him,” Elizabeth whined.
Ashlyn took a deep breath. “I can’t change your mind. It seems you’re going through with this insanity,” she said, in a tone of resignation.
Her cousin replied with a relieved smile, “Thank you! I knew you’d support me, just like always.
” Elizabeth hugged Ashlyn tightly. “Matteo and I leave tomorrow, but I’ll send a missive to Madame Trousseau to alter the dresses for you.
You’ll have plenty of fancy gowns to wear.
We are close enough in size, and it should be very little work for her to shorten them a tad.
And our feet are the same size. I won’t be bringing much with me—except for the trunks I arrived with, as we’ll be traveling light.
Besides, Matteo assures me that Italy has some of the most talented dressmakers in the world.
If I need more clothing, we can purchase it there.
Rose has already packed my things, and Matteo has promised a comfortable coach. ”
“Then you informed your maid, who I’m sure has already spoken to Alice, my maid, before telling me?” Ashlyn said, unable to hide her pique.
“Of course I informed Rose. She is my maid. She has no choice.”
Ashlyn had run out of arguments and realized nothing she could say would change her cousin’s mind.
And if she didn’t assume Elizabeth’s identity, the only other recourse she had to prevent a scandal would be to hide away in their suite until her aunt and uncle arrived, which could be longer than a few weeks if her uncle had any business delays.
Faced with that, she nodded in acquiescence. What choice did she have?
“Wonderful. I shall share a few bits of advice with you—just in case you cross paths with a prickly person who asks too many questions,” Elizabeth said.
This would not be the adventure of a lifetime after all; instead, it would be a nightmare. Ashlyn would have to be careful to keep her true identity a secret until Elizabeth’s parents arrived and she could tell them everything.
If only Aunt Beatrice were there. Elizabeth’s mother had initially planned to voyage with them when Elizabeth’s father had said he would have to depart at a later date due to various business concerns, but Elizabeth had convinced her that she and Ashlyn would be perfectly safe on the ship with only their maids, which would add to their great adventure, making the trip that much more memorable.
And it would test their mettle to better prepare them for their future marriages.
She’d enlisted her father’s help in persuading her mother, who’d reluctantly agreed.
If only Aunt Beatrice hadn’t stayed behind.
It was as though Elizabeth had anticipated some sort of excitement away from her mother’s watchful eye.
“You can still enjoy Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s house party,” Elizabeth said.
“Yes—no! She is expecting an American heiress. I am the daughter of a Connecticut physician. Your mother is Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s friend,” Ashlyn protested.
“Who cares? She’s never met me.” No one could stand up to Elizabeth’s outrageous plans—no matter what Ashlyn said, it was met with accusations of being disloyal and not wanting her cousin to be happy.
“When are you leaving…with Matteo?” Ashlyn asked, deciding the next best thing was to glean as much information as she could.
Uncle William would be furious, and she’d be expected to know something about the man.
“You’re the levelheaded one, Ashlyn,” he was fond of saying.
“Elizabeth makes emotional decisions—and they are not always the best.”
He was indeed correct about that. Matteo Russo—if that was his real name—had had access to many young debutantes as an artist, but none without their parents’ supervision.
And he had used flattery and flirtation with Elizabeth during her sitting.
He had latched on to an American heiress and clearly done everything in his power to make the connection permanent.
Little did he realize that Elizabeth’s father would not approve of the marriage—if there was one—and would likely have it annulled, if Matteo had lied about anything.
Ashlyn’s uncle was a powerful man and had resources worldwide.
Uncle William would have to be convinced of Matteo’s true intentions—something that Ashlyn questioned.
There was no doubt that Matteo was a talented artist, but was he also a talented liar?
There was nothing she could do now but hope that Elizabeth would come to her senses, or that her aunt and uncle would arrive sooner.
“We leave tomorrow—the day before you leave for Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s house party. The party should be lots of fun for you. I can take Alice, if you’re concerned that Rose is too young and inexperienced to attend me,” Elizabeth said.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll keep Alice with me,” Ashlyn said. She’d been fortunate enough to have Alice as her maid since girlhood. “Rose is your maid. You will need her. Besides, it will be better to have her with you under the circumstances.”
“I’m perfectly safe with Matteo, if that’s what you’re implying,” Elizabeth retorted.
“In any case, I don’t need two maids,” Ashlyn said.
“Very well, I will take Rose. I’m sure she’ll love the adventure.”
“If anyone at the house party asks why I’m alone, what should I say?”
“Tell them that your cousin, Ashlyn, took ill and didn’t feel able to attend the party,” Elizabeth suggested. “No one will question that. You can say she plans to join the party when she feels better, but she feels it wouldn’t be good manners to expose everyone to a bad cold.”
The next day, Ashlyn watched her cousin board a boat—the Felicity—with Matteo Russo and depart for Italy. Matteo’s goodbye was overly effusive, but he was an excitable young man. She supposed it had to do with his being an artist. And Ashlyn had heard that Italians were a passionate people.
Nevertheless, she didn’t trust him, not one whit, but she had given up trying to convince her cousin to stay, knowing it was pointless.
True to her promise, Elizabeth had written her parents a letter, which Ashlyn planned to leave with the hotel manager before she left for the house party, in case they arrived while she was away.
And Elizabeth had also had the additional gowns altered to fit Ashlyn.
Now she had more dresses than she had ever imagined having in her entire life.
As she waved at her cousin from the dock, she sent up a silent prayer for her safety. She hoped that Matteo was exactly who he claimed to be and would take care of Elizabeth. But she couldn’t help but worry that things would not end well.