Deceiving the Duke of Kerrington (Ladies of Deception) (3 page)

BOOK: Deceiving the Duke of Kerrington (Ladies of Deception)
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“You can’t tell
me no,” It was a statement but though she said it with more pleading than
command, Hope knew that it was true. If she valued her position as lady’s maid,
and she did, she knew that she couldn’t very well tell her mistress no,
regardless of how horrible the idea was. She felt the fight go out of her as
her shoulders went limp, her arms falling dejectedly to her side.

“Yes milady,
anything you say.”

Noelle squealed,
“You mean it? Really, you’d do that for me?”

“I don’t see as
how I have a choice.” Hope was shocked when Noelle pulled her into her arms,
bestowing upon her a fierce hug.

“Everything will
go perfectly, you’ll see.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

            Hope had hardly slept a wink
all night, thoroughly dreading the plan her and Lady Noelle were putting into
action the following day. She went through every possible worst case scenario
in her head—of her being discovered posing as her mistress and the consequences
that would entail. She thought of the possibility of Noelle being abducted by
the American she was so enthralled with, thinking that he may very well turn
out to be a completely unsavory character. Thought after horrible thought ran
through her head all night long, each one more ghastly than the last.

            She had never been so
relieved to pull herself out of bed and begin preparing for Noelle’s morning
toilette. She hoped with everything in her that after a good night’s sleep her
mistress would have come to her senses and realize how foolish her plan was.
She walked into Noelle’s room, richly decorated in purple and gold, the
decorations as dramatic as the lady who inhabited the room. She carried a tray
containing warm chocolate over to where Noelle was propped up against multiple
plush pillows in her bed.

            “Good morning milady, how’d
you sleep?”

            “Oh I hardly slept at all, I
was so excited. I simply cannot wait to put our plan into motion.”

            Inwardly Hope groaned,
disappointed to see that Noelle was just as eager today to carry out her
foolish plan as she had been yesterday. Hope worked to get Noelle’s clothes
ready for the morning. She retrieved a fresh shift and stays along with an
ivory muslin morning dress. The whole time she was dressing Noelle and coiffing
her hair she couldn’t help but think that she would be preparing herself in the
same manner in only a matter of hours. The thought was very unsettling. Noelle
however didn’t appear unsettled in the least. She chattered excitedly all
morning about anything and everything. Truth be told, Hope hardly paid
attention to a word she was saying, so worrisome were her own loud thoughts.

            When the time finally came
for both girls to begin their transformations into one another, Hope thought
she would be physically ill. Noelle on the other hand couldn’t have been more
excited. To her it was all a big adventure and she failed to see the risk in
the precarious plan. Noelle insisted that she be made up first and helped Hope
her slip into one of her gray high necked gowns. It was plain and drab compared
to what Noelle was accustomed to and Hope cringed at her appearance. She hadn’t
realized how frumpy her serviceable gowns made her appear until she saw Noelle
in one of them and it bothered her immensely to see her mistress appearing so
common. Next she pinned her hair up into a braided knot at the back of her head
and finished the look off by handing her the pair of spectacles which she slid
naturally onto her face completing the ensemble.

            Hope could only stare at her
in horror, what had she done to her mistress? Noelle however was having too
much fun, as if she was simply playing a childish game of dress up. She went to
her closet and grabbed a cerulean day dress and corset then instructed Hope to
strip down to her chemise, which she did slowly. Although she was used to
seeing Noelle in various forms of undress, she herself never undressed before
another living being and she found herself overwhelmingly modest.

            Sensing her discomfort
Noelle stood with her hands akimbo, one foot tapping beneath her skirt
impatiently, “Hope Hillburn, if you don’t hurry it up we’ll never pull this
charade off.” She didn’t realize that what she had meant as a threat was
actually the very thing Hope could only wish for.

Growing
impatient, Noelle huffed over and began assisting her in removing her clothing.
Once she was standing in only her chemise, Noelle began fastening the corset
around her slender frame. Hope’s figure was slightly more slender than
Noelle’s, probably due to the lack of rich foods in her diet, but with the aid
of the corset they were able to shape her form to appear even more slender in
places and voluptuous in others. It was the first time in Hope’s life that she
had ever worn a corset and she wasn’t sure she liked its restrictive feel. Next
she helped Hope slip into silk stockings, fastening them to the garters she
wore before slipping a petticoat over her head. By the time the empire waist day
dress was in place Hope felt like a completely different person. She had never
been dressed in such finery and was amazed at how much better properly fitted
clothing felt on her body.

            Noelle hadn’t a clue as to
how to do Hope’s hair since she had never had to bother dressing her own in the
whole of her life. Luckily Hope was an expert in how to do her mistress’s hair
and was able to quickly pile her own thick hair on top of her head and using
the aid of a hot iron she curled a few stray wisps on the sides of her face
into loose ringlets. Noelle quickly applied some rouge to her cheeks and then
blackened her lashes, finishing the look off with some rose lip salve. By the
time Hope was allowed to look in the mirror she couldn’t believe how she had
been able to completely be transformed into Lady Noelle. The likeness was
uncanny, but even she felt an unfamiliar surge of confidence course through her
as she viewed the resemblance with her own eyes. The girls turned to one
another and began giggling. Hope didn’t know what was odder, seeing herself
dressed up as a fine lady or seeing her mistress dressed down as a common
servant.

            Glancing at the clock
sitting on the mantle, Noelle began spouting off last minute instructions
although they had gone over every last detail numerous times. “Now remember to
try to keep as inconspicuous as possible. I suggest you go to the library and
spend your time reading. Father rarely ventures into the library, especially in
the afternoon. I think that’ll afford you the most amount of privacy. Hopefully
Devon will just be out riding or doing whatever it is he does.” Hope had failed
to consider the possibility of a run in with Noelle’s older brother and
sincerely hoped she wouldn’t see him. The act she was playing would run considerably
smoother if she didn’t have to encounter anyone. “I will come find you there as
soon as I return and we can quickly switch back into our own roles.”

 The only part
of the charade Hope had been looking forward to was the part where she got to
read in the library. She was an avid reader when she had the time, even
harboring a secret habit of writing her own stories for entertainment and
having access to the library for her own pleasure was like a dream come true.
If only she wouldn’t be fretting the whole time that the entire situation would
turn out poorly.

            Noelle leaned in for a final
hug and Hope couldn’t resist giving her own last minute advice. “Be sure to
exit and return through the servants entrance. If you come to the front door
you will raise suspicion.” Noelle nodded her understanding, “And most
importantly, be careful. Don’t do anything rash, I would never forgive myself
if something were to happen to you.”

            “Oh you worry too much. But
I will be careful, I promise.” With that she quickly exited the room.

            Hope watched her retreating
figure, wishing she could just stay holed up in the bedroom until she came back
but knew that would only draw suspicion, for Noelle rarely stayed in her chambers
unless she was sick. And if her father thought she had taken ill he very well
might come to check on her. No, it would be safer to go to the library and
spend her time fretting there. She quickly headed to the room that she had
longed to explore for ages. She had been in the library many times with Noelle
and even occasionally read to her from her favorite books but this would be the
first time she would be able to browse the shelves for herself, in search of
books that would interest her and not just the volumes of poetry that Noelle
always insisted she read.

            Hope had been lucky that her
mother had insisted that she learn to read and write, a luxury amongst so many
of the lower class. Not only had it come in handy when securing her position as
lady’s maid but it also proved to be her salvation. She spent many hours, while
Noelle was at balls and her chores had been completed, taking her ink and quill
and creating fanciful stories from her imagination, stories of fantasy lands
and curious adventures—fairies, giants and other whimsical creatures her mind
would conjure up dotted her tales. It was her release from the doldrums of
everyday life. She had never shared any of her stories with another living
soul, not even her mother.

            She walked back and forth
along the broad walls lined from floor to ceiling with shelf after shelf of
books, wishing she could find some sort of fantastical tale that would
transport her to another world but knowing she wouldn’t find any such thing.
The Earl of Brattondale was much too formal and rigid to allow anything so
trivial into his library. She finally settled on Lord Byron’s
Hours of
Idleness
though she had read from it numerous times and wasn’t a particular
fan of his writing, though Noelle favored him.

            No sooner had she sat down
on the settee and had carefully arranged her skirts to cover her feet properly
when the door flung open and in walked Devon. She hadn’t had much contact with
Noelle’s older brother, Lord Brattondale’s heir, but had always thought he
seemed like a likeable enough fellow. He was tall and handsome with thick
blonde hair that was multiple shades lighter than hers and Noelle’s. He had
brown eyes and a kind face that she knew many servant girls found exceptionally
handsome.  He startled her by walking over and plopping his lanky frame right
next to her on the small settee, making her feel overwhelmed by his nearness.

            He stretched his long
breeches clad legs out in front of him before speaking, “Hello sister,” he
reached over and grabbed the book she was holding from her hand, inspecting the
cover before handing it back. “Byron again? Please tell me you aren’t still
harboring a silly fancy for that pompous…”

            “Of course not!” Hope cut
him off before he offended her ears with his language. She knew that she was
blushing, feeling awkward pretending to be his sister when in truth she felt
completely uncomfortable in his presence. She hadn’t any idea how Noelle would
react to his presence or what she would even discuss with him. She decided to
keep him talking about himself in hopes that he would avoid asking her anything
that she might not be able to answer properly.

            “What have you been spending
your day doing Devon?” she hoped he wouldn’t notice the strain in her voice and
her discomfort at the conversation and the casual way she addressed him. She
had never before uttered a single word to him and now she was expected to hold
an entire conversation with the man. Heaven help her.

            “Oh the usual, just another
boring day in London.”

            “Certainly you don’t find
London boring my…” she quickly caught herself before muttering milord and fully
arousing his suspicions. “…my dear brother,” she finished lamely.

            He looked at her
suspiciously anyway, one blonde eyebrow raised. “Dear brother? You are
apparently in a good mood today. And yes, I do find London boring. At least
most of the time. I’d much rather be in the country helping run the estate.”

            “Then why don’t you go?” It
didn’t make sense to Hope why he would endure the drudgery of another season in
London if he preferred the country.

            Devon laughed. “My, my
Noelle, you are in a peculiar mood today. You know as well as I do that father
wouldn’t permit me to just up and leave in the middle of the season. He has all
but threatened me to find a wife and be engaged by the end of the season or
else he’ll interfere and arrange a match.”

            “He said that?”

            “You know he did. He’s
getting impatient with the two of us. I suppose we better start taking the
marriage mart more seriously or we’ll find ourselves in marriages we won’t
desire. Can you imagine the type of partner father would choose for us?” He
shuddered at the thought. Hope laughed nervously, not sure how to respond.
Luckily Devon didn’t seem to mind which was good because there was nothing Hope
could do or say in that regards.

            After a few moments of
silence between the two Devon turned himself slightly so he could look directly
into her face while he spoke, “Tell me Noelle, do you believe in love?”

            Hope thought a moment before
answering. Of course she hadn’t given it much thought. She knew that a working
girl like her would most likely never have the opportunity to fall in love and
if she ever did marry it would be more for convenience and companionship then
for some magical emotion. Knowing that her life would never amount to a fairytale
she had quickly decided to never give love a second thought. But of course,
Devon wasn’t asking her what Hope Hillburn’s philosophies on love were, no he
was simply asking his sister. She tried to think about how Noelle might respond.

            Finally she spoke, “Of
course I do, I mean why else do you suppose I’m still searching for a mate? If
I didn’t believe in love I would’ve married the first gentleman who had offered
for me.”

            To her surprise he guffawed
long and loud, “Oh what a thought that is! You’d be married to Lord Trimble, do
you remember the man? Of course you do, how could one forget his bulbous nose?
You almost couldn’t see the man’s face beyond that monstrosity. And don’t
forget the way he spit when he spoke, and his laugh, that maniacal laugh that
could make even the deaf squirm in their seats. Yes, seems your fate could be
much worse than being a spinster.”

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