Page 3 of The Heiress Masquerade (Dollar Princess #2)

The ship’s horn blared as the vessel navigated its way into the dock, while Aimee stood on the top deck, her gaze hungrily drinking in the sight of London looming large in the distance. It was a hub of activity and commerce, with people and carriages bustling about everywhere, the air thrumming with boundless opportunities.

And here she was, about to embark on the most daring plan she’d ever conceived, switching places with her cousin. Exhilaration filled her with the thought she’d learn all she could of her father’s company and show him she had a brain for business. Perhaps then he might finally believe there was a place for her within his company.

It wouldn’t be easy. Her father was as stubborn as she was. But standing there, with the wind whispering against her cheeks and the late morning sun shining brightly down on her as they prepared to disembark, it felt like anything was possible.

“We should reconsider this plan, Aimee,” Evie mumbled nervously beside her, her porcelain complexion still tinged with a slight shade of green from having been seasick for the majority of the trip. “I don’t think it’ll work. How will anyone believe I’m you? Even dressed in this ridiculously expensive outfit.” She nervously tugged on her bodice, the tapestry of delicate white lace and blue silk all but dancing in the sunlight.

“Nonsense,” Aimee declared, turning to face her cousin, smiling in reassurance. “You look perfect. No one who saw you would think you anything less than a wealthy heiress. A million-dollar heiress.” She winked and gave Evie a reassuring pat on her arm. Dressed in a glorious two-piece sapphire and white gown that clung to her cousin’s lithe figure in a perfect balance of sophistication and modesty, Evie not only looked the part of an heiress, but exuded the vast wealth of the Thornton-Jones empire.

While Aimee, wearing an ensemble from Evie’s wardrobe, of a simple navy skirt and matching jacket with a white blouse underneath, couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than what she wanted everyone to believe her to be—a respectable companion, with little wealth to her name. No one would think they weren’t who they said they were.

“I’m not an heiress, and people are going to realize that fact quickly.” Evie bit into her bottom lip, her blue eyes reflecting her worry as a frown marred her normally serene countenance. “How could they not? I don’t have your confidence or poise, and my American accent is dreadful.”

“Your American accent is fine.” Aimee reached over to her cousin and adjusted the broad-brimmed blue bonnet elegantly perched atop Evie’s blonde hair. “People only see what they expect to. Dress the part and that’s what people will believe. It is as simple as that. And if you make a mistake, so what? They’ll put it down to you being American.”

“I suppose you’re right…”

“I’m always right.” Aimee grinned.

Evie raised her brow, her worry now replaced with skepticism. “Always?”

“Well, maybe not always,” Aimee allowed, glad Evie wasn’t looking quite so ill anymore. “But I’m right about this. And you know I have the experience to back up my assertions.”

“Secretly attending a male-only business college, dressed as a young man, isn’t the same at all,” Evie lamented. “No one would ever expect an heiress to do that.”

Aimee shrugged. “People see me dressed like a man and assume I’m one. It will be the same for you, pretending to be me.”

“It’s completely different.” Evie threw her hands up in the air and blew out a breath. “I’ll be interacting with people. You sit at the back of the lecture halls and don’t draw any attention to yourself.”

“Which is a hard thing for me to do, especially when I often disagree with the lecturers who have no practical experience in business.”

“You don’t have actual experience in business, either,” Evie said with a slight shrug.

“You’re right, I don’t, at least not yet . But, unlike them, I’ve read every business contract, document, and ledger my father has ever brought home, and I’m well aware of what goes on with his deals and negotiations.”

“You know one day he’ll catch you sneaking into his study and reading his papers.”

“That’s unlikely, given I sneak into his study in the middle of the night.” Aimee raised her chin and returned her gaze to the dock as the deck hands threw ropes down from the ship to the waiting men below, who began to loop them onto the moorings. “Hopefully, one day I won’t need to sneak around anywhere to know about what business he’s conducting, and he’ll happily discuss such matters with me.” She turned back to face her cousin. “I know you think it’s a silly dream of mine—”

“I don’t.” Evie grabbed one of Aimee’s gloved hands with her own, squeezing it lightly. “When you set your mind to something, I’ve seen firsthand your determination to achieve it, regardless of the hurdles. I worry this plan of yours is too bold to succeed. We might be similar in stature and appearance, but that’s the extent of our similarities. I’m scared I’ll make a mess of it, Aimee, and I don’t know if I have the courage to convincingly pretend to be you.”

“Courage isn’t about being fearless, Evie. It’s about pressing on in the face of your fears.” It was a saying her father used often, and one she took to heart. “The truth is, I’m always terrified of being caught that one morning a week when I attend college, but it’s the only sliver of freedom I get. I’m more terrified of not going and living a half life, stifled by everyone else’s expectations of what I can and cannot do, instead of what brings me joy.”

Evie sighed, her eyes staring out across the city before she turned back to regard Aimee steadily. “Do you really think we can pull this off?”

“I know we can.” She stared deeply into her cousin’s eyes, trying to will the conviction she felt into her, too. “And for once you’ll be able to explore London and the museums like you never could when you grew up here. Just don’t go falling in love with a handsome gentleman.”

“Oh goodness, that won’t happen. Besides, we’re only here for six weeks.”

“Jenny Jerome not only fell in love with a dashing heir to an earldom, but became engaged to him, too, only three days after arriving here.”

Evie shook her head. “That will never happen to me.”

Aimee raised an eyebrow. “In any event, as long as we both enjoy ourselves in our respective pursuits, that in no way include men, we’ll be fine, and it will be a trip to remember.”

Evie nodded, and Aimee could see her worry gradually give way to acceptance, perhaps even to the tiniest bit of excitement, too.

“You’re right,” Evie said. “We can do this.”

“I told you I’m always right.”

Evie gave an exaggerated eye roll and they both laughed.

“God help anyone who tries to come up against you,” Evie said. “You can convince anyone of anything, I’m sure of it.”

“The only one I need to convince is my father, who is proving to be a tough mountain to move.” But persevere she would, because giving up was not in her nature, no matter how immovable the obstacle. She was crossing everything she had that this trip would be the exact opportunity she needed to finally convince him of her worth. Though, she still wasn’t sure how she’d convince him of that without disclosing her and Evie’s switching places in the first place.

That’s even if they could pull off the ruse convincingly because contrary to her assurances to Evie, part of Aimee was nervous. If anyone found out about their masquerade, most particularly her parents, they probably would send her to a convent, or worse, marry her off to someone despite their pledge to the contrary.

Thankfully, Evie’s seasickness on the voyage had ensured they could prepare well. They’d both mainly stayed in their cabins and had used the time to practice the other’s accent and mannerisms. Aimee had also done her best to quell Evie’s nerves and school her on how to be an heiress, a rather simple and boring endeavor, consisting mainly of dressing the part and then acting as if you had not a care in the world but instead owned it. A tedious role to play, but one expected by Society.

“Excuse me, Miss Thornton-Jones?” the captain’s voice spoke from behind them. “We’re ready to disembark.”

They both turned and Aimee had to give Evie a quick nudge to remind her the man was addressing her, and not Aimee. She found it strangely liberating that for once the attention wasn’t on her as it usually was being Thomas Thornton-Jones’s only child.

“Thank you, Mr. Melville,” Evie said with a polite smile.

“You’re welcome, Miss.” Mr. Melville returned the smile, the lines around his eyes crinkling at the corners. “If you and Miss Jenkins will follow the porters, they’ll take you to the carriages your father’s arranged for you both.”

“I still hate we’re not staying together,” Evie whispered over her shoulder to Aimee as they both began to follow the porters.

“At least the Countess of Brexton is collecting you, while I’ll have to put up with my father’s perfect protégé , the horribly annoying Mr. Stone,” Aimee whispered back, feeling the frown start to form on her face with the thought of the man.

“How can you dislike him so much when you’ve never even met him? Especially given how glowingly your father talks about him.”

“That’s exactly why I loathe the man,” Aimee replied. She’d been subjected to her father’s enthusiastic accounts of the young man and his achievements for nearly as long as she could remember, and it was tiring. “My father is normally an excellent judge of character but he’s blind when it comes to his protégé. No one can be so perfect or so good at his job as father infers Mr. Stone is.”

“Hasn’t he been mentored by your father for nearly twenty years? One would think Uncle Thomas would know him well by now,” Evie said. “Especially as he talks about him almost like he would a son.”

“Yes, I know Father considers him the son he never had and has essentially groomed him to take over his business, but I won’t stand for it. I intend to prove to my father that I am more than capable of doing the job. He just has to give me a chance.” It hurt Aimee to see the joy in her father’s face whenever he spoke of Harrison Stone, and as much as she didn’t like admitting it, she was jealous of him and the relationship he had with her father. A relationship that should have been hers, but for the fact she was born a girl. “And I’m not going to let Harrison Stone take what should be mine.”

“I’m surprised you’ve never met the man.”

“You know Father likes to keep his business world separate from his family life.” Aimee shrugged. “Besides, Harrison Stone is nearly ten years older than me, so by the time I came out into Society five years ago, he’d already moved over here to start up this leg of Father’s business. Honestly, the way my father adores him and talks about how wonderful he is, makes me think the man has to be the biggest sycophant. But enough about the infernal Harrison Stone. I intend to start this trip on the right note, not a sour one.”

Aimee linked her arm through the crook of Evie’s as they made their way down the wide gangway to the dock, following the porters to the first-class passenger disembarkation point, where a handsome and rather regal-looking gentleman wearing an impeccably cut navy blue suit stood waiting for them in front of a carriage.

If that was Mr. Stone, he didn’t look like the cutthroat businessman her father always praised. This gentleman was dressed in extremely fashionable attire and seemed far too happy for someone used to the ruthless world of business.

“It’s not too late to change our minds,” Evie frantically whispered.

“Yes, it is,” Aimee replied, giving Evie a small nudge toward the gentleman. “And remember your American accent.”

Evie took a hasty step forward and glanced briefly back to Aimee, an unusual expression of annoyance on her face before she turned to face the man.

“Miss Thornton-Jones?” the man asked, to which Evie nodded. “I’m the Earl of Brexton. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He stepped forward and picked up Evie’s gloved hand, placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “My mother sends her abject apologies for not being here to greet you,” he continued, smiling at Evie in a manner Aimee knew meant the man liked what he saw. “She’s had an emergency with a water leak in her ballroom, so she sent me in her stead to escort you back to her residence.”

“That’s quite all right, my lord,” Evie replied with such grace and a rather good American accent that Aimee knew they’d be fine in switching places. Better than fine, given Aimee would have forgotten to call the man my lord . “Thank you for agreeing to escort me.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

Aimee cleared her throat and stepped forward. “And I am Miss Jenkins.”

“Oh, do forgive me,” the earl said, his eyes swinging over to Aimee. “You must be Miss Thornton-Jones’s companion.”

Aimee held her hand out to him. “I am.”

“Ai-Evie is my cousin,” Evie said, nearly stumbling over her name, clearly as thrown by calling Aimee ‘Evie’ as Aimee was calling herself by Evie’s name.

“How wonderful,” the earl enthused, reaching over and taking Aimee’s proffered hand in his own, his smile again flashing brilliantly as he kissed her gloved knuckles. “And you’re from England, too, not America?”

“I grew up here, before moving to the States to live with the Thornton-Joneses,” Aimee replied. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to referring to her family like that.

“Very good,” the man said with another smile.

He seemed altogether far too good-natured and jovial for Aimee’s liking.

And though he seemed genuine, could it be a ruse? Could he be an impoverished earl on the hunt for a Dollar Princess and using this as an opportunity to do so? Could her mother have even known that and arranged for her to stay with the countess? Well, if that was the case, the joke was on her mother as it would be Evie staying there interacting with the earl, not Aimee. And, thankfully, her pragmatic cousin was too smart to be taken in by a handsome face. Wasn’t she?

Surely, she was…even if this was a personable, charming, and very handsome earl.

Evie didn’t have the same experience rebuffing gentlemen as Aimee did, being far more entranced by her history books than by any man.

“Are you aware that Aimee’s father loves to hunt?” Aimee asked the earl, returning his smile with a far more glacial one of her own, concern for Evie starting to press upon her.

“Not really, but most of us men do like the sport,” the earl said, looking a bit perplexed at the turn of conversation.

“Yes, well, my f—uncle Thomas has one of the largest rifle collections in America, and is an excellent shot. He also doesn’t take kindly to anyone trying to take advantage of his daughter. Most especially would-be-suitors, whom he’s more than willing to shoot if they even try to think about hurting her.”

“Cousin, there’s no need to be so dramatic, my father isn’t that bad,” Evie said with a forced laugh before she leaned in closer to Aimee. “What are you doing?”

“My dear Aimee,” Aimee replied, loud enough for the earl to hear. “You know your father is ridiculously protective of you, which is only fair to warn the earl of.” She turned back to stare at the earl, who appeared uncertain. “Uncle Thomas is ruthless about it. Trust me, you wouldn’t wish to incur his wrath, or he’s likely to shoot you,” Aimee said in utter seriousness, reflecting briefly on how odd it was to refer to her father as her uncle. “Or I will, given I’m a better shot than he is.” As much as her father liked to argue the point.

“An Englishwoman who shoots? How, um, interesting.” The earl blinked again, several times, clearly unused to such a conversation.

“I’ve picked up a lot of American mannerisms,” she said by way of explanation. “I even carry a derringer in my pocket.” She patted the right front of her skirt, feeling the comforting metal pistol inside.

“That’s, uh, prudent of you…” The earl’s voice trailed off, seemingly ill at ease with the direction of the conversation.

For a moment, Aimee felt sorry for him, especially if he wasn’t hunting an inheritance, though she still wasn’t certain of that. “Yes, if someone tries to take advantage of my cousin, I’m well prepared to deter them. Permanently .”

“So I see. Perhaps I shall go and see how the servants are faring loading Miss Thornton-Jones’s trunks into the carriage, and where your carriage is, Miss Jenkins.” He quickly excused himself and strode over to the second carriage where all the luggage was being loaded, bar a small trunk that contained the clothes Aimee would be wearing.

“He seems sweet,” Evie said. “Was there really a need to try to scare him?”

“Of course there was,” Aimee replied, watching as a carriage with her father’s company crest pulled in behind the carriage the earl was heading to. “He was far too friendly and smiley.”

“Smiley? My, what a sin.”

“I’m serious, Evie.” Aimee rounded on her and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Now that you’re pretending to be me, they all think you’re an heiress, which could place you at risk of men seeking such a fortune to replenish their coffers with and being willing to compromise you to do so.”

“As lovely as it is, you wanting to protect me, you don’t need to.” Evie smiled. “I’ve been protecting myself for the majority of my life, well before you and your parents came along.”

“Protecting yourself in London is different from protecting yourself against scoundrels in a ballroom,” Aimee replied. “Don’t underestimate how ruthless supposed gentlemen can be. Men, especially those accustomed to wealth, can be unscrupulous when it comes to ensuring that lifestyle continues. They’re a different sort of creature to deal with than a thief on the streets. They use charm and seduction as their weapons, and those are two implements you have no experience defending yourself against.”

“I’ve accompanied you to hundreds of balls over the last six years since moving to America.” There was a mutinous expression on Evie’s face, one that reminded Aimee of herself. “And I’ve interacted with plenty of men during those occasions.”

“Interacting with waiters by taking a glass of lemonade from their trays and thanking them isn’t the same thing at all.”

“I’ve had other interactions, too,” Evie mumbled, crossing her hands over her chest.

“Butlers and footmen don’t count, either,” Aimee replied. “Look, you’re more like a sister to me than a long-lost cousin.”

Evie smiled and reached over, giving her a quick hug. “I feel the same.”

Aimee returned the hug before pulling back and staring at her. “Good, then you know I’ll always protect my sister. Especially as I’m the one who’s put you in this situation in the first place.”

Aimee was starting to feel the first hints of guilt about doing so, but not enough to change the plan. It was too late for that anyway given they’d met the earl, and she was still convinced it was going to be a marvelous adventure for them both. But there was always a possibility of things going wrong, however small that was, and the last thing she wanted was for Evie to get hurt.

“Your trunks are all loaded, Miss Thornton-Jones,” the earl said, returning back to them. “And I believe your escort is here, Miss Jenkins.”

He nodded over his shoulder and Aimee watched as a boy, who couldn’t have been more than fourteen, rushed up to them with a grin on his face.

“Miss Jenkins?” the boy asked, removing his cap and bowing.

“You’re not Mr. Stone.”

“Ah, no, Mr. Stone had to chase up something very important,” the boy replied in earnest.

“He did, did he?” The man was already making a woeful impression but given the sort of man she believed him to be, it only made sense he wouldn’t bother turning up to greet her cousin in person, or her as the case was.

The boy cringed. “Aye. A big deal’s gone wrong, and he has to fix it.”

“The Wilheimer deal?” Her throat tightened at the thought. Her father needed this deal to go ahead to expand his global reach into Europe; it would be the deal of a century if it could be pulled off.

“Aye, that’s the one,” the boy said, surprise flickering in his eyes. “But Mr. Stone sends his apologies.”

Aimee raised an eyebrow. “ He actually said to say sorry?”

“Well, no,” the boy confirmed, looking slightly abashed. “It was his second in charge, Mr. Hartley who told me to say that, and he also organized for me to get you and then take you to Mrs. Holbrook’s to settle in for the rest of the day.”

That wouldn’t do, not if the Wilheimer deal was in jeopardy, and though she knew she wouldn’t be able to do anything, if she could find out what was going on, she might be able to help, or at least let her father know what was happening.

“What’s your name, boy?”

“Frederick Lambton, miss.” The boy bowed again. “And at your service, I am.”

“Well, Frederick Lambton, rather than Mrs. Holbrook’s, you can take me straight to my fa—uncle’s office.”

“Oh no, miss.” Fred shook his head, his eyes wide in alarm. “I was told to take you straight to Mrs. Holbrook’s house to settle in, not to the office.”

“Can I call you Fred?”

The boy nodded his head once again. “Yes, miss.”

“Well, then, Fred, as I see it, you have two options.” She took a step closer to him, her eyes level with his. “You can either drop me off safely to the office, or I will walk to the office on my own. But make no mistake, I’ll be going to the office directly from here.”