A Grand Deception (2 page)

London-April 1815

No one knew the real reason Lady Muriel Worth had come
to Town. Not her closest friend, Susan Wilbanks, not her Aunt
Penny, not even her father, the Duke of Faraday.

However, soon after arriving in London she did confide
in Susan. Without her friend's help, Muriel could not have
continued with her well-laid plans.

She had come to London to meet a man. A man she had
been corresponding with in secret for the last four years. As
if that had not been bad enough, she'd managed to slip out
from under the protective wing of her aunt to meet him, on
more than one occasion. She had only left his company minutes ago and returned to the place where her friend Susan
waited.

Muriel slid through the narrow side doorway from the alley into the subscription library. She moved past other patrons who milled about with hushed voices. This gathering, however, felt far less formal than the flirtatious whispering
in the crowded ballrooms she'd experienced nearly every evening over the last two months.

"How goes it, Sukey? We have not been discovered, I
hope." Muriel exhaled, inspired and exhilarated by her recent meeting. She placed her books on the table with great
calm and slid into the seat next to Susan. "I would like to
increase my sessions to twice a week."

"You've gone from twice a month to once a week only a
fortnight ago. However are you to explain another absence to
your aunt, Mrs. Parker?" Susan placed a bookmark between
the pages of her novel before closing it. "The subscription library is certainly acceptable once a week for you, but twice?
I fear it will not fadge. And my mother would never believe it
of me."

Anyone who knew Muriel, the young Muriel, could well
imagine her need to go to the library, because at home it was
where she spent most of her time. At the age of eleven, Muriel had watched her brother, Frederick, go off to Eton-and
learned she could not attend because she had had the misfortune of being born female. She had so wished to learn
Latin and then, perhaps, continue on to the Classics. Without a formal education or a tutor furthering her studies, such
an endeavor would prove difficult.

The new Lady Muriel's behavior had been carefully fashioned to resemble her elder sister Charlotte's. Pleasant and
agreeable, which young Muriel had never been. The new
Lady Muriel still appeared to retain some interest in her academic studies but was clearly far more interested in finding a husband.

"I am fortunate you and your mother are staying with us."
Muriel drew her reticule close. It contained her notes and the assignments she was to complete. "We have freedoms
together I would not normally be allowed if I were alone."

"Mama and Mrs. Parker allowed us to remain at the subscription library unattended while they did some small shopping. We were to remain, keeping each other company.
Which, you must own, we really have not." Susan removed
her gloves from her reticule in preparation to leave. A line of
worry creased her brow. "For you spend your time closeted
with Signore-"

Muriel shushed her.

Susan fell silent and glanced around them, observing the
other patrons to make certain she had not been overheard.
"Oh, Moo, if we are ever found out, I fear I should never
again be allowed to leave the house."

"Do not worry, Sukey, for you may tell your mother to
place the blame entirely in my dish. Aunt Penny certainly
will. Do you not understand? This is my first and best opportunity to obtain the level of instruction I crave."

"You have explained your reasoning to my satisfaction,
and you have my every sympathy. That is why I agreed to
help. I only fear what will happen if you are caught."

How that should happen, Muriel wasn't sure. Had she not
taken every precaution to convince her aunt, and her father,
that her extreme interest in academics was no more?

She'd spent the good part of a year feigning fascination
with what ladies, at her age and position, usually did to occupy themselves. There were unaccountable hours wasted
poring over fashion plates, fabrics, and colors while conferring with the dressmakers. Muriel did not even wish to hazard
a guess at the time spent choosing new hats and shoes, much
less the other worthless gewgaws that, she was told, every
fashionable lady needed in her possession.

Just that morning, when Aunt Penny had suggested that
Muriel don the decorative puce velvet bonnet instead of her
practical straw hat, she had agreed with enthusiasm and
without question.

"Tutelage under Signore Biondi means everything to me.
I have made progress I never would have achieved without
his instruction. I shall do what I must to continue, despite the
risk," Muriel stated with staunch determination. "Even if it
means pretending I am part of the marriage mart."

"What a hardship, to have suitors fawning over you, dancing with you, and paying court to you," Susan replied in what
Muriel considered heavy sarcasm. "Do you not realize that
that is exactly what every girl wishes for? And what is it
you do? Disregard the entire convention. You encourage
their attention, only to ignore their interest if it should
become serious. How can you turn your back on all your
suitors?"

"I am willing to bear what I must to achieve my end. I do
value my young men, though. They aid me in my subterfuge. Do not scold me because I have no interest in finding
a husband and marrying." Muriel's father had offered his
youngest the opportunity to travel to Town for a Season, as
he had his two elder daughters. She had accepted. Only her
goals differed from her sisters'.

Her father might have thought she was interested in making a match. Muriel thought being in Town was a perfect
opportunity to further her studies.

"You don't wish to marry?" Susan's previous sarcasm apparently had fled, to be replaced by astonishment. "Ever?"

"I imagine someday I shall find the notion palatable, but
I am fairly confident that that day is very far off." At present, flirting with young men and spending time attracting
said gentlemen held very little interest for Muriel. "Have no fear, Sukey. I do not expect you to provide me with an excuse to meet with Signore Biondi for additional sessions. I
shall devise other means."

Susan appeared relieved that she would not be included in
further deceptive arrangements. It had been difficult, but not
impossible, for Muriel to come up with an acceptable plan
to slip away from those who would see her chaperoned at
every moment.

Muriel's attention shifted toward the front entrance, where
a handful of new patrons streamed in. "Here come my aunt
and your mother. We shall continue our discussion later,
when we are alone."

Once the four returned to Worth House on Hanover Square,
Muriel and Susan headed for the cerulean blue parlor to take
tea only moments before Aunt Penny's older sister, MaryLady Kimball-and her daughter, Constance, dropped by,
quite unexpectedly.

"Do not speak of Signore Biondi in front of my cousin,"
Muriel cautioned Susan, and she quietly took a seat on the
blue-and-gold-striped sofa. "Any secret she learns does not
remain so for long."

Susan nodded, and Muriel knew her friend would not say
a word.

"I must tell you the latest on dit." Constance turned breathlessly to face the two young ladies and motioned them near.
"Mother and I attended the Wymans' rout last evening. Of
course we saw Lord Phipps and Lady Gelsthorpe. Lady Rushworth and her daughter, Lady Harriet, were there. As you
know, poor Harriet has been the gossip for the last fortnight
because of Lord Gideon's relentless pursuit," Constance told
Susan. "But that is not the most exciting news."

"Tell us, Miss Kimball." Susan fairly sat on the edge of her seat, waiting for Constance to impart the latest tittle-tattle.
"I do not think I can wait a moment longer!"

"Do you know who else attended?" Constance took time
smoothing her skirts to prolong the suspense. "The new Earl
of Amhurst!"

"The new earl? What happened to the old one?" Susan
turned to Muriel, who knew nothing to enlighten her friend,
for an answer.

"He died, goose," Constance replied rather curtly. "From
what I hear, the new earl is young, tall, handsome, and eligible. And he looked upon everyone as if they did not interest
him in the least!"

"A picture of perfect ennui, eh?" Muriel thought her cousin's enthusiasm a bit much. And to display so much adoration for someone who held those around him in disdain ...
well, she could not help but find a bit of humor in that.

A maid brought in the tea tray, and Constance leaped
from her seat.

"Now I must find Mama and be off; we cannot stay for
tea. I need to spend extra time preparing for Almack's. It's
the first assembly of the Season, and I am sure the Earl will
attend. I shall see you two tonight."

"No, I am afraid not, Miss Kimball. I have not procured
vouchers," Susan confessed, sounding a bit low because she
had been left out. The Almack Patronesses had not deemed
her worthy enough to gather with others of the haute ton.

"That is a shame, Miss Wilbanks. I'm sure that Muriel
will tell you all about him tomorrow." Constance paused at
the doorway for a moment before spinning away from sight.
"Farewell to you and-oh!"

A thunder of misguided footfalls and shrieks told of a
near collision in the corridor. Susan's expression mirrored Muriel's confusion regarding the commotion outside the
parlor where they sat.

"I beg your pardon!" a young male's voice cried out in
surprise.

"And I beg yours," Constance replied, but she did not
sound affronted in the least. "If I did not have to dash home
this instant, I would have my cousin Muriel make introductions."

"I fear it is my loss." The gracious bow that must have
followed was nearly audible. "I shall look forward to making your acquaintance next we meet, then."

Both half rising from their seats, Muriel and Susan stared
at each other, wondering about the identity of the young man.
His voice sounded very familiar.

"A bientot, monsieur." Constance's adieu faded with her
gradual retreat and ultimate exit from the premises.

The butler directed the visitor with, "The young ladies
gather in the blue parlor, sir. I shall introduce you at once"

"No need to bother, Ralston." A few moments later a dark
haired, finely dressed gentleman wandered in.

"Sir Samuel!" Muriel cried, standing upon recognizing
him. "How delighted I am to see you."

Susan followed suit and rose to meet him.

He held his hat and walking stick in one hand when he
entered, greeting them with a most splendid leg. "I am most
pleased to see you again, Lady Muriel." He bowed over her
hand. "Your sisters insisted I stop by to pay my regards and
catch up with family news."

"Both sisters?" Susan remarked. She stepped out from
behind Muriel where she could be seen.

"Why, yes, I-" Sir Samuel Pruitt stopped in midsentence
and gazed upon Susan as if he had never seen her before.

"You remember my friend Miss Susan Wilbanks, do you
not?" Muriel gestured off to her side.

"Oh, yes, of course." Sir Samuel reached out for Susan's
proffered hand and bowed over it. "Excuse me for not recognizing you. Last we met, you were merely Miss Susan,
but now you have grown into a very lovely Miss Wilbanks."

Susan thanked him for the compliment with a shy smile
and a soft blush.

"Leave your hat and stick with Ralston," Muriel bid him.
"Aunt Penny would insist. You cannot deprive us of your
company now. I insist you stay."

He glanced at the laden tea tray that gave every indication they had yet to pour out. "I have no wish to intrude."

"Nonsense," Muriel cried. She made space for him on
the sofa. "You will sit here, between us. We shall learn all
your news, and you shall have all of ours."

Sir Samuel agreed to join them. He left the ladies for only
a moment to dispose of his accoutrements and returned to
the parlor.