Belle's Beau (20 page)

Miss Weatherstone's face lit up. "How very extraordinary! Why, I never knew this. You alluded to someone helping you to safety when you were wounded, but I never dreamed that it was Philip! Of course, his name would have meant nothing to me then. But certainly I would have recalled it upon meeting him." A rueful expression crossed her face, and she shook her head. "It is better that I did not know! Knowledge of that sort most assuredly would have been my undoing then!"

"You have lost me, Miss Weatherstone," said Lord Ashdon, his fascinated gaze on her animated face.

She laughed. Her hazel eyes gleamed. "I am not at all surprised, my lord. And it is just as well, believe me. Shall I send you an invitation to the wedding? I do not think that my aunt and uncle will mind, for you are known to them."

"Miss Weatherstone, you and your maid have several packages. Will you allow me to help you carry them? Do you go to your carriage?" asked Lord Ashdon. He was determined to get to the bottom of what was proving to be a mystery. Miss Weatherstone was acting as though they had not met since Bath, when he had been paying court to her all Season.

"That is very kind of you, my lord," said Miss Weatherstone, relinquishing two or three parcels to him, the brown paper crackling as he took them. "There is my aunt's carriage. It is but a short walk, as you see."

Lord Ashdon murmured his agreement, then returned to the main question in his mind. "Miss Weatherstone, I feel that I must be blunt. Do you actually recall our previous acquaintance in Bath?"

Miss Weatherstone turned an astonished expression on him. "My lord! Why do you ask such an odd question? Of course I recall you! Why would I not?"

"I thought perhaps that you were pretending to do so now since I alluded to Bath in weeks past," said Lord Ashdon grimly.

Miss Weatherstone stopped short and turned toward him. Her expression was more startled than before. "You have alluded to—? But, sir, we have not spoken together since Bath."

Lord Ashdon raised his eyebrow and stared down at her with a frown. "Really, Miss Weatherstone! It seems to me that your memory is wonderfully original, since we danced together not two nights past!"

All of a sudden Miss Weathers tone's expression changed, and she began to chuckle. "Oh, I see! We—you and I!—danced together. And I suppose that we have also exchanged pleasantries any number of times over these past weeks."

"You seek to make jest of me, ma'am," said Lord Ashdon stiffly. Anger swept through him. He had never been made the brunt of such a stupid joke in his life. He had thought Miss Weatherstone was merely shallow and indifferent. Now he realized that she was also one of those ill-assorted personages who delighted in humiliating their fellow creatures.

At once sobering, Miss Weatherstone laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Forgive me! I do not make merry with you, my lord. It was not I who danced with you, but my sister. I am Cassandra Weatherstone. You have obviously made the acquaintance of my twin sister, Anabelle."

Lord Ashdon stood rooted to the spot. The full scope of his mistake was suddenly open to his horrified scrutiny. The maid murmured a request that he give the packages to her, and he relinquished them without even glancing at the woman. "Your twin sister? Belle Weatherstone? The Belle of London! What a fool I have been!"

Miss Weatherstone nodded sympathetically. "Why don't you ride back to the town house with me, my lord? I left Belle at home. I think that it would be very good for you to see us together in the same room."

"Yes," agreed Lord Ashdon. He felt as though he had been poleaxed. He was still not quite able to grasp it. Cassandra, Belle—his memory had not been at fault at all, then. He had not forgotten her name, but he had taken her sister to be her. He had made himself known to her that first incredible morning on the basis of an acquaintance that had never existed, and he had measured her every word, her every action, against a memory that she had never been a part of.

Lord Ashdon handed Miss Weatherstone up into the carriage and absentmindedly gave a polite hand to the maid as well. The woman flushed, but he did not notice. His mind was wholly occupied with what he had just been told.

As he settled back against the velvet squabs, he shook his head. "I cannot believe it! I cannot believe that I could make such a dreadful mistake."

Miss Weatherstone laughed again. "It is not an uncommon experience, my lord. My sister and I embarked on a masquerade only a few months past. Not our grandfather, nor our aunt and uncle, nor any of the household suspected that we were not who we were thought to be." She glanced at her maid. "At least, there was not more than one or two who suspected. Am I not right, Morse?"

"Quite, miss," said the maid with the smallest of smiles.

Lord Ashdon looked fixedly at the maid, then turned his head to study Miss Weatherstone's face. She looked precisely as she always had. Her thickly lashed hazel eyes held brown flecks, her nose was small and straight, her mouth was generous, though now in repose rather than in its usual laughing state.

Miss Weatherstone met his hard stare unwaveringly. There was only the slightest blush in her cheeks to reveal that she felt any discomfort. Could there really be two young women who bore such an uncanny resemblance to each other? he wondered. He shook his head. "I cannot grasp it yet."

"You shall, Lord Ashdon," promised Miss Weatherstone, a smile touching her face. "Ah, here we are. Pray let us go in at once. Morse, I will have the porter help you bring those in."

"Very good, miss."

Lord Ashdon escorted Miss Weatherstone up the steps of the town house, keenly anticipating what was about to happen. He felt that he was on the verge of a discovery that would make a tremendous difference in his life. Either Miss Weatherstone was completely delusional or she was the greatest jokester imaginable, or there was indeed a second, identical Miss Weatherstone to whom he had lost his heart.

Miss Weatherstone led him to the drawing room. A splash of harp music wafted out of the room as she opened the door. "Belle is practicing," said Miss Weatherstone in a hushed tone. "Pray go in, my lord."

"Come with me, Miss Weatherstone," said Lord Ashdon quickly.

Laughter lit her eyes. "Afraid, my lord?" She preceded him and then moved slightly to one side, holding the door open for him.

Lord Ashdon stepped past her and then stood in stunned disbelief.

There was Miss Weatherstone, seated at a golden harp. Her eyes were closed and her cheek rested against the body of the instrument. Her mouth drooped a little in an attitude of melancholy. Her slender, strong fingers strummed and plucked a sad, shimmering melody that floated on the air. A shaft of sunlight coming through the window sparked fiery highlights in her chestnut hair and limned the folds of her white daydress.

The viscount felt something tighten in his chest. Never had he beheld or heard anything quite so beautiful. He drew in his breath sharply.

From out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement. Realizing at once that Miss Weatherstone was walking past him toward her sister, he instinctively shot out his hand, catching her wrist.

Miss Weatherstone stopped, looking up at him in surprise. He shook his head, murmuring as softly as he could, "No, pray do not disturb her just yet."

Puzzlement flickered in Miss Weatherstone's eyes, but she acquiesced. Lord Ashdon turned back to the lovely vision at the harp and lost himself once more, entangled in her beauty and the haunting music that she wrought.

When she struck the last lingering note, Lord Ashdon applauded softly. Miss Weatherstone looked up from her instrument, her expression startled, and when she saw who had come in, color surged into her face. "Oh! Lord Ashdon!"

Her sister, still wearing her straw bonnet, went forward to kiss her twin. "Belle, that was utterly superb. I am certain that Lord Ashdon must agree."

"Quite so," said Lord Ashdon. Words were inadequate to express what he felt at that moment. He had never heard such a haunting melody in his life.

As Miss Weatherstone drew her hesitant sister forward, Lord Ashdon looked from one face to the other. He was utterly amazed at how closely they resembled each other. He had heard it was so with twins, of course, but he felt that in this particular case it must be exceptionally so. "My word!"

"I met Lord Ashdon while I was shopping. He thought that I should have remembered our original acquaintance in Bath long before today!"

"Oh!" said Belle. A mischievous gleam came into her eyes. "How forgetful of me, to be sure!"

Lord Ashdon felt himself flush. He advanced until he could take Belle's hand and raised it to his lips. "Forgive me, Miss Weatherstone," he said contritely. "I made an assumption that I fear has cost me dearly. I have been cold to you. Can you forgive me?"

"Of course I can," exclaimed Belle, her color high. She looked at him with sparkling eyes. She pressed his fingers. "Thank you, my lord. Your friendship means more to me than you can possibly know."

"May I call you Belle?" he asked diffidently, looking again from one to the other. A rueful grin spread slowly across his face. "I fear that I might make the same error again if I do not have some way to identify the person to whom I am speaking."

The ladies laughed, and it sounded as though an echo was resounding in the room, so closely did even their voices match.

"Yes, pray do so," said Belle warmly.

"And I shall remain Miss Cassandra Weatherstone, my lord," said Cassandra, still chuckling. "Now I shall leave you. My packages have undoubtedly all been deposited upstairs. I shall send refreshments in directly."

"No, pray do not on my account," said Lord Ashdon, sparing the lady a glance even as his eyes quickly returned to Belle's face. "I shall be taking my leave shortly, for I have an appointment elsewhere."

"Very good, my lord," said Miss Weatherstone. She held out her gloved hand. "Good-bye."

Lord Ashdon took her hand and gave her fingers the lightest squeeze. He said quietly, with a wide smile, "Thank you, ma'am. You have cleared up a terrible misunderstanding."

"I am glad to have done so," said Miss Weatherstone. She glanced at her sister and smiled. "I shall let you visit with his lordship, Belle." She slipped out of the drawing room and closed the door behind her.

Belle looked after her sister in surprise. She would never have thought that Cassandra would do anything so unconventional as to leave her unchaperoned with a gentleman. She looked around quickly. The viscount was staring at her with the oddest smile on his face. "My lord?"

He shook his head. "I was only thinking what a fool I have made of myself. I trust that you will not only forgive, but forget, for I wish only to be on the best footing with you."

Belle moved to the harp and traced the strong curve of its wooden frame with her fingers. "I am honored to count you as my friend, my lord."

Lord Ashdon came close. He covered her hand with his, where it
rested on the wood. Quietly, he said, "I wish to become more than your friend, Belle."

Belle did not dare to look up at his face. His breath had been warm on her cheek, so that she knew that if she turned her head it would be much in the order of an invitation for him to kiss her. Her heart was thumping, for she very much wanted to issue that invitation yet was afraid to do so.

"Belle."

His hand left hers, only to gently cup her shoulder and turn her round. She raised her eyes, feeling somewhat shy to be standing so close to him. She was disappointed when he took a step backward.

"You shouldn't look at me like that, Belle." There was a hoarseness in his voice.

"Why?" whispered Belle.

The viscount gave a laugh. "Because I have dreamed of seeing that look in your eyes. It is what sustained me through battle after battle."

Belle was startled. "What?"

Lord Ashdon smiled at her. "My dear Belle, it was that lovely face of yours that I thought about. When I returned to England, it was with the hope that I would find that face, that somehow I could make Miss Weatherstone mine. When I saw you that morning in the park, I thought that my dream had begun to take on reality at last."

"You've been in love with Cassandra all along?" asked Belle, a strange sensation sweeping through her. She had never felt such coldness as now was enveloping her heart.

Lord Ashdon shook his head and said emphatically, "No! Not with Cassandra! I was in love with who I thought she was."

"I don't understand you, my lord," said Belle in a faltering voice.

"When we raced in the park, I was struck with how pale my memories were in comparison to you, Belle. You were more vibrant, more beautiful, more fascinating than I ever would have believed," said Lord Ashdon. He gave a small laugh. "Indeed, I thought that you had changed beyond all recognition, except for your face. I think now that at some deep level, I instinctively knew that I had met someone entirely different from the young lady whom I had first met in Bath."

Belle slid a glance at him from beneath her lashes. "I am very glad that you have discovered who I really am, sir."

"As am I, Belle," said Lord Ashdon. His heated gaze was fixed on her face, bringing a delicate color into her lovely face. He cleared his throat of a sudden obstruction. "Miss Weatherstone, I—

The door opened and Mrs. Weatherstone swept into the room. She glanced quickly from her niece's blushing countenance to Lord Ashdon. With a civil smile, she said, "My lord, I apologize that I was not immediately informed of your arrival. I just this minute learned of your visit lo us."

Mrs. Weatherstone had come forward with her hand outstretched, and Lord Ashdon, who had swiftly stepped away from Belle upon her aunt's entrance, bowed over her fingers.

"That is quite all right, Mrs. Weatherstone. Miss Weatherstone was able to entertain me very well. I knew that she played well, but I had no notion that she was such an accomplished harpist," said Lord Ashdon smoothly.

Mrs. Weatherstone shot a surprised look at Belle. "Indeed! Why, I have never known Belle to give a private performance before. Thank you for your compliment, my lord. I am certain that Belle is quite appreciative of it."