Page 8 of Lady Emily’s Matchmaking Mishap (Merry Spinsters, Charming Rogues #5)

Chapter Four

In the end, it turned out to be far easier than they thought.

Emily helped Cissy into a simple, dark blue dress. It was the only formal dress they had. Cissy’s light blonde hair was tied back in a loose bun.

“You look like an angel, as always.” Emily tugged at the lace fichu and stepped back in satisfaction.

Cissy embodied all the ideals of beauty currently in fashion. She was tall, elegant as a reed, fair-haired with fine, pale skin, rose-petal lips and had cornflower blue eyes in an oval, Madonna-like face. She looked as if she had stepped out of one of Thomas Gainsborough’s paintings, all elegance and charm.

Emily, on the other hand, had fine, mousy brown hair that refused to curl or stay in place, and regular brown eyes. Her curvaceous figure, which would have been celebrated in the previous century when tiny waists and wide, generous hips were the ideal of beauty, was at a disadvantage in the current fashion. The high-waisted empire dresses hung around her like a tent, too loose around her waist and too tight around her hips. She perpetually looked like she was increasing. It was very frustrating indeed.

Emily did not consider herself wholly unattractive; not at all. She was pretty enough, with full, generous lips, a slightly upturned nose and a chin full of character, and good teeth, white and strong. But next to Cissy and her dazzling beauty, Emily seemed quite insignificant. No one ever gave her a second glance, least of all the gentlemen. She was often dismissed as a companion at best, or a lady’s maid at worst.

That’s why she had slipped easily into the role of the maid when she had met the coachman. She’d also discovered that it was easier to obtain information as a maid than as Lady Poppy Featherstone. Not to mention that by being a maid, she solved a major problem: that of clothing.

Between the two of them, they only had one good dress, and even that one wasn’t at the height of fashion. So it was easier for Emily to put on her simple cotton dress and pretend to be the maid, while Cissy was the lady. This solved the wardrobe conundrum.

But now that Emily, too, was impersonating a lady, how were they to solve that?

No matter.

Emily always came up with some story or other. In her mind, she was already busy constructing an elaborate backstory. Despite being the daughter of an earl, they were impoverished because their father had gambled away their dowry and the current earl wanted nothing to do with them...

From then on, it was better to stay as close to the truth as possible. With only a handful of gold coins and a ball gown between them, they were forced to travel from relative to relative...

Ah, that sounded good!

She told the story to Cissy, who agreed. “Yes, but we ought to add a kindly old aunt with whom we lived for the past three years, to give our story credibility. Besides, it’s true. And you know, the closer we stick to the truth, the less likely we are to slip up and get caught in our own deception.”

Emily winced. “You make it sound like we’re liars and scoundrels.”

Cissy looked at Emily with a sad but resigned expression. “But that’s exactly what we are, Emmy. Liars.”

Emily shifted uncomfortably. “You make it sound like we’re black-hearted sinners. We’re not quite as bad as all that. We just like to bend the truth a little. It’s not like we do it deliberately to take advantage of people, to hurt them.”

“Do we not?” There was a strange look in Cissy’s eyes. “You don’t think we took advantage of Aunt Henrietta? Or Grandfather Sylvester? When they fed us and gave us a home and even pin money? None of it was really meant to be ours. And who’s to say they weren’t hurt when we left?”

Emily swallowed painfully. She didn’t want to dwell on the subject.

“And now we add revenge to our long list of sins.” Cissy sighed.

“Would you rather not? You don’t have to, you know.” Emily paused to adjust the skirt around her.

Cissy stared at the mirror, her face pale. Then she shook her head. “I don’t like it. But I’ll do it. For you, Emmy.” She turned and there was a wildly determined look on her face. “I will do it for you alone. So you can finally have a home.”

Emily’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Cissy,” she choked out. She felt a surge of love for her sister who would do anything to make her happy.

“Let’s go and do this.” Cissy limped to the door.

Emily brushed the tears from her cheeks and rushed to help her out into the corridor and down the narrow stairs. Leaning on Emily’s arm, Cissy limped down a few steps and paused as the door to the taproom opened.

An elegant vision appeared, pausing in the doorway. He opened his pocket watch. “I dare say we shall make the last stretch before dinner easily,” he said to someone behind him in a nasal, arrogant drawl.

A deep, male voice, no doubt the coachman’s, grumbled in reply.

It couldn’t be. He was already leaving! They were too late.

Emily's mind worked feverishly.

If they let him get away, they’d miss the opportunity of a lifetime. Emily couldn’t let that happen.

But how did one approach a duke when one was A. a woman and B. a stranger?

Deuced etiquette!

There was only one thing to do.

She turned to Cissy with a pleading look on her face. “Forgive me, dearest sister. But you must trust me. This is truly for your own good.”

Then Emily closed her eyes for a millisecond, took a deep breath and gave Cissy a firm push between her shoulder blades. “Your Grace!” she called.

Wolferton looked up as Cissy flew towards him with a shriek.

If he catches her, they’ll be married, Emily thought. If he doesn’t... well, best not to think about it.

For a moment it looked like the latter, as Wolferton just stood there, gaping. Just as Emily was about to rush forward to save her poor sister from a most ungraceful landing, Wolferton, thank heavens, finally activated his wits, opened his arms andcaught her.

And very elegantly, too. Cecily fell into his arms with a soft gasp and looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Wolferton looked down at her, visibly stunned, as if this beautiful vision had somehow fallen from the heavens into his life.

At least that was the effect Emily had been aiming for.

“By Jove,” he murmured. It was unclear whether his breathlessness was due to Cissy’s dramatic arrival or her undeniable beauty.

So far, so good.

“Lydia!” Emily exclaimed, as if she’d only just become aware of the situation. “Are you hurt?”

“N-no.” Cissy made a few feeble movements in his arms, causing Wolferton to tighten his grip, still speechless.

“Just... my ankle... ”

Emily stomped down the stairs, sounding and undoubtedly looking like a herd of elephants, quite a contrast to Cissy, who always managed to look graceful even when tumbling down the stairs.

“Your Grace, you are a hero. You saved my sister from certain death.” She clasped her hands and opened her eyes wide, hoping to look convincingly grateful.

“I did? I suppose I did.” The Duke did not seem to know what to do with the bundle in his arms.

“This is Lady Lydia Featherstone, and I am her sister, Lady Poppy Featherstone.”They’d agreed on new names, with new identities.

The Duke carefully placed Cissy on the bottom step, where she stretched out her leg and stifled a small moan that sounded thoroughly convincing.

Emily suppressed a pang of guilt. “My sister has twisted her ankle quite badly.”

“Dear me.” Just as Emily had hoped, the Duke seemed incapable of looking anywhere but at Cissy. Emily was confident that he wouldn't notice her threadbare dress. If anyone was capable of turning the Devil Duke’s head, it was her.

Cissy gave him a weak, helpless smile and murmured sweetly, “Thank you for catching me, Your Grace. You saved my life.”

“You’re... welcome. Glad to be of service.”

Emily fussed over Cissy. “She won’t be able to walk for at least a few days.” She gave the Duke a pleading look. “What is to be done? The innkeeper mentioned that our room is needed as the inn is overbooked, but travelling is quite impossible in her condition. We’re in a fix.”

“What is to be done, indeed?” echoed the Duke, still staring at Cissy, who was sitting on the stairs looking up at him with doe-like eyes.

“Of course, if alternative accommodation could be found, that would be helpful,” Emily suggested pointedly.

“Indeed. But where?”

The man appeared to be somewhat slow. Emily’s patience was wearing thin. “Perhaps, Your Grace, you could assist us in this matter... ?”

The Duke didn’t answer, seemingly lost in Cissy’s gaze.

“Your estate isn’t far from here, is it?” Emily prompted. “I hear it’s only two hours by coach... ”If he doesn’t understand now, he’s beyond hope.

At last a glimmer of understanding appeared in his eyes. “Oh! Yes, of course. One can't possibly leave a lady in such distress. I will see what can be arranged.”

Emily nodded in satisfaction.

But then, to her astonishment, he simply bowed briefly, muttering, “I must go—most urgent business,” and, before either of them could utter another word, he strode to the door, picking up his hat on the way.

“Egad! What happened to my hat?” —was the last thing they heard as the door slammed shut.

Cissy and Emily stared after him.

“Well,” Emily said slowly, “that didn’t go quite as planned. You were supposed to bowl him over and he was supposed to invite us to his house party at Ashbourne Estate. And then you were supposed to live happily ever after.”

“That was Wolferton?” Cissy gasped. “How is that possible? He didn’t look or act anything like I’d imagined.”

“He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” Emily explained as she helped her sister to her feet. “Don’t be fooled by his appearance. It’s all part of the game. Anyway, he didn’t take the bait. Were we too obvious? There was a moment after he caught you when I thought it would work out nicely, as he seemed to be immediately smitten, but then instead of inviting us to Ashbourne House, he just walked away.” Emily huffed in frustration. “Annoying man! At least we tried.”

“It’s for the best, Emily.” Cissy stared at the closed door through which the Duke had disappeared. “I must admit he took me by surprise. He didn’t seem quite as fearful as I’d expected. Do you think much of it is just rumour? All this talk about him being a devil, I mean. If I hadn’t known his personality from our own experience, I would have thought him a decent sort of man.”

Emily leaned her weary head against the wall panelling. “Not that it matters either way, for our bird has flown.”

“I dare say he must be used to women trying to catch him. He probably saw through our ruse immediately and decided to flee. Despite everything, I’d rather not be married to a man like him.” Cissy leaned on her arm as she walked back up the stairs.

“It was worth the effort, but they say Wolferton is a notoriously difficult catch. If only we had a sponsor to take us along... but if it can’t be helped, it can’t be helped.” She sighed. “Oh fie. Our plan has failed. That leaves us with Plan B.”

“Which is?”

“Scotland.”

Cissy nodded and sighed deeply. “Scotland. It’s for the best, I suppose.”

Later that evening, after the sisters had snuffed out the lights and retired to bed, someone banged on the door.

Cissy slept on. An entire regiment of Wellington’s armies could be marching through her bedroom and she wouldn’t notice. Emily bolted upright, nearly tumbling out of bed.

“Who is it?” She scrambled out of bed and opened the door.

The innkeeper’s wife peered at her, holding up a lantern.

“A carriage has arrived at this late hour for Ladies Lydia and Poppy Featherstone,” she announced in a gruff voice. “Ye should’ve said ye were a lady when ye arrived,” she added. “Would’ve given ye a better room, m’lady.”

Emily blinked at her sleepily. “A carriage? What do you mean? The mail coach to Scotland? It leaves that early?”

“No,” the woman growled. “The Duke of Wolferton’s carriage. He sent it himself. Ye’d better hurry. A man like Wolferton doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

With her heart pounding, Emily sat beside her sister in the well-sprung carriage as it sped through the darkened countryside. She couldn’t be sure if the coachman was the same cloaked figure she’d glimpsed earlier—the rude, gruff, vexatious man she’d met in the inn's courtyard. The coachman had mumbled a greeting as they entered the coach before taking his seat, but she hadn’t seen his face.

“This can’t be happening,” Cecily stammered, clutching Emily’s hand. “Are we truly on our way to Ashbourne House? In the Duke’s carriage? As Lady Poppy and Lydia Featherstone? Everything is happening too fast. Emily. I’m terrified!”

Emily clung to her hand. She too felt queasy. Even though she had orchestrated this very situation, she couldn’t quite believe it was really happening. They were entering the wolf’s lair. “Yes,” she murmured. “I can hardly believe it myself.” Somehow her plan had worked. The Duke, moved by a sense of noblesse oblige, had been persuaded by the story of Cecily’s twisted ankle and, true to form, had sent his carriage to bring them to his home so that she could recover. It didn’t fit the picture of the notorious Devil Duke she had painted in her mind, but she wasn’t entirely surprised. Men invariably responded to Cecily with chivalry—every single time.

As the coach slowed and approached the village, the sisters fell silent. Fascinated, they looked out of the window, watching the warm lights of the cottages flicker. At the edge of the village, just beyond the shadow of the church, stood a solitary cottage, dark and silent.

“There it is,” Emily whispered, her voice barely audible. “Meadowview Cottage.”

They craned their necks to catch a last glimpse of the darkened cottage as the coach turned and rumbled through the massive stone gates.

Home.

“I’ll do as you say.” Cecily’s voice was barely audible over the steady clatter of wheels on the cobbled drive. “I’ll marry him. We’ll get our home back.”

“Good.” Emily nodded, her tone firm. “I will do everything in my power to make this match happen.”

As they rode down the grand avenue lined with ancient oaks, Ashbourne House loomed into view, impressive, and proud, and cold.