The Perfect Impostor (5 page)

Katrina used a side door when she returned to the house. That way she avoided the other guests thronged in the drawing room and reached her chamber without being intercepted.

“You’ve heard?” she asked Celia, at last able to give vent to her anxiety as she closed the door behind her.

“About Lord Kincade’s unexpected arrival?” Celia tutted. “Yes, milady. A most unfortunate development.”

“I so hoped he wouldn’t speak to me until I’d had a chance to ask you how things stood between him and your mistress. But naturally he approached. He was deliberately taunting me, I’m sure of it, odious man! I wanted the ground to swallow me up.” Katrina threw herself onto the bed, still acutely embarrassed by the incident. “Everyone was watching us, although of course they pretended not to, and I had no idea how I was supposed to behave.”

“That’s not to be wondered at. About people watching you, I mean.” Celia pulled a disapproving face. “There’s nothing the gentry enjoys more than a little salacious gossip.”

“Yes, so I just discovered. Anyway, you might as well tell me how things were left between Kincade and Julia. Then I shall know if I committed any indiscretions that will give me away.”

Celia shuffled her feet. “Well, actually, milady, I don’t know all the particulars.”

“What!” Katrina stared at her, panic welling up inside her. “But you must do. Julia tells you everything, and I’m relying upon you to direct me.”

“Usually she does honour me with her confidences, it’s true, but I never really knew what happened between her and Lord Kincade.”

“Hmm, this is worse than I supposed. After all, her name was linked with his for several years.” Katrina scowled. “You must have some idea, Celia.”

“I do know that she was greatly enamoured of him.”

“I can’t imagine why.”
Liar,
said a small voice inside her head. “He’s far too full of his own self-importance.”

“He travelled a great deal in a diplomatic capacity, and my lady didn’t care to be left behind for months on end with no gentleman to escort her. I think they quarrelled about it.” Celia shrugged. “I suppose it was inevitable that she’d take up with someone else when his lordship showed no inclination to abandon his profession.”

“Even if she was in love with Lord Kincade?” Katrina could hear the censure in her voice. She herself had never been in love so was no expert on the subject. Still, she couldn’t imagine being in love with one gentleman and encouraging the attentions of another. But then she wasn’t Julia. Perhaps her intention had been to incite Lord Kincade’s jealousy. In which case her plan had clearly failed, given his thinly veiled hostility.

“It’s easy to sit in judgement but we weren’t the ones involved,” Celia said.

“I’m certainly involved now, in case it escaped your notice.”

“It will be all right. What can possibly happen in a house full of people?”

“A very great deal,” Katrina responded with alacrity. “If Julia was intimately acquainted with Lord Kincade, it won’t take him five minutes to realise I’m an impostor. In fact I’m sure he suspects me already. He kept looking at me in a most peculiar manner, as though he thought something was wrong but he couldn’t quite think what it might be.” She levelled her eyes on Celia. “Were they intimate, by the way?”

“That I couldn’t say, but they certainly spent a good deal of time in one another’s company.”

“Alone?”

Celia nodded. “When his lordship was in the country.”

“Oh dear! This just keeps getting more and more complicated. And I still don’t actually know if Lord Kincade proposed to your mistress.”

“I can’t help you there.” That shifty look in her eyes again. She was lying.

“She loved him by all accounts but rejected him in favour of a wealthy marquess just because her feelings were hurt. And because she dislikes her own company.” Katrina blew air through her lips. “Except that the marquess seems to prefer the prince’s company to that of his wife. Arrgh!” She threw her bonnet aside and took to pacing the room. “Come on, Celia, think. There must be something you know that will help me.”

“I’m pretty sure he didn’t actually propose.” Celia wrinkled her brow but it was clear that she disliked being cross-questioned. Too bad! She wasn’t the one who had to face Leo Kincade with his lazy half smile and a penetrating gaze that seemed to see straight through her. “My lady wouldn’t be drawn upon the matter.”

“But it’s generally understood that she rejected him,” Katrina insisted. “Presumably he wouldn’t allow that rumour to abound if it wasn’t true.”

“Presumably not.”

“Oh, Lord, how am I supposed to treat him if I don’t know the particulars?” She thumped her thigh in frustration. “I knew this wretched deception wouldn’t work. I shall be found out before I’ve spent another night under Lady Marshall’s roof.”

“There’s no occasion to sound so defeated.”

“No occasion! Have you lost your mind? Julia deceived me. She might not have known that Lord Kincade would be here, but she certainly knew about the other ladies. Ladies she told me she hadn’t seen for an age. How could she have done that to me?”

“She knew they wouldn’t suspect you but thought you wouldn’t agree to come if you knew the truth.”

“She was right about that but wrong about them not suspecting me. I’m sure Lady Ainsworth knows something isn’t right.”

“You’re just imagining things.”

Katrina stamped her foot in frustration. “Celia, I am
not
imagining it!”

“You don’t have to worry about her. And as for Lord Kincade, there are a lot of people here and there will be no opportunity for you to be alone with him. Not if you keep your wits about you. Ensure you wear your veiled bonnets and keep to the shadows as much as possible.” Celia remained implacably calm. “And in the evenings, attach yourself to one of the ladies and make sure you’re never separated.”

“That won’t stop him.”

“It will stop him talking to you about anything personal.”

“Perhaps, but I would be a lot easier in my mind if I knew what he thinks of me.” Katrina swirled to face Celia, her frown briefly replaced by a smile. “I know. Why didn’t I think of it sooner? Celia, can you get a message to your mistress and ask for her guidance? I’m sure you know how to contact her.”

“No, I’m sorry, ma’am.” There was finality in Celia’s tone as she helped Katrina out of her gown. “Milady cannot be contacted.”

“That can’t be right.” Katrina shook her head, panicking. “Surely you made arrangements to reach her in the event of an emergency? And if this doesn’t constitute an emergency then I don’t know what does. It’s her head on the block here just as much as it is mine.”

“Courage, ma’am. Try to think rationally. Lord Kincade won’t mention your former relationship because he’s a gentleman. Besides, he assumes you’re well acquainted with the facts.”

“Easy for you to say. You didn’t see the way he was taunting me earlier, and that was in front of other people. He was asking the most intrusive questions.”

Convinced Celia could reach Julia if she really wanted to, Katrina plonked herself down in front of the mirror and frowned at her reflection. She wished now that she’d insisted upon having a way of contacting Julia, and she wondered who was in charge here, even though she already knew. She might be the one wearing all the finery, showing off her creations and playing the part of the grand lady, but Celia was most definitely orchestrating matters.

“Perhaps he was embarrassed as well, ma’am,” Celia suggested as she dressed Katrina’s hair.

“Humph, I doubt whether the man knows the meaning of the word.”

“Treat him with friendly flirtatiousness. My mistress is
never
serious in company. Not many ladies are. It’s quite frowned upon, you know.”

“Yes, I’ve already discovered as much for myself. But if I rejected Lord Kincade’s suit then surely I wouldn’t feel inclined to flirt with him.”

“Oh no, that’s the way of society. Besides, if Lord Kincade feels slighted by your former behaviour he won’t seek you out, and the problem will resolve itself.”

“Perhaps.” But Katrina wasn’t convinced.

“He probably only addressed you just now because he knows the two of you being under the same roof would excite gossip if he didn’t.” Celia brushed Katrina’s hair with vigour. “Now that he’s stopped wagging tongues, I doubt that he’ll have much else to say to you.”

“Wretched man! Why did he have to appear now of all times?”

“Now then, milady, which gown shall you wear for dinner this evening?”

“Perhaps the green velvet, Celia.”

Celia poured water into an ewer and Katrina washed her hands and face. “Have any of the other ladies remarked upon your wardrobe?”

“Oh yes.” Katrina grinned, glad that one thing was going her way. “At least some good has come out of this farrago. I live in expectation of Madame Sinclair receiving several new customers. My military-style walking dress caused quite a stir yesterday.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. It’s different enough to catch the eye.”

Why did Katrina feel as though Celia was patronising her?

“Now then, shall you wear the black velvet cap with the gown?”

“Oh yes, it’s nothing without it. I’m hoping to single-handedly generate a revival of interest in the Tudor style.”

“And so you shall. Sit still, milady. A little pale rose salve for your lips, I think, and a dusting of colour on your cheeks too. You look far too pale.”

Celia brandished something that looked suspiciously like a poor animal’s foot and attacked Katrina’s cheeks with it, ignoring her protests that she never painted her face.

“There.” Celia stood back and admired her handiwork. “You look lovely, though I do say so myself.”

Katrina thought, with clinical detachment, that she hadn’t looked better in the three days since her arrival. With a degree of self-assurance that only an especially well-cut gown can inspire, she went downstairs at the correct hour to engage with the other guests before dinner.

She’d convinced herself that Celia was right about Lord Kincade. He would no longer have reason to single her out. Which was why she was dismayed to discover him pacing the entrance vestibule, almost as though he was waiting for her to appear. She glanced about her, desperately searching for someone—anyone—else to latch on to. Although voices could be heard emanating from the drawing room, she and Lord Kincade had the hall completely to themselves. There was nothing for it. She would have to brazen it out.

She tilted her chin and offered him what she hoped would pass for a dazzlingly flirtatious smile. “Why, Lord Kincade,” she said, affecting surprise. “If I didn’t know better I’d almost think you were lying in wait for me.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead his eyes travelled from the top of her cap and slowly drifted down the length of her body, coming to rest on the velvet roses sewn into the flounces on her gown. They then reversed direction at an equally leisurely pace. He appraised her with a look of such deep appreciation that his fleeting expression of pure avarice made her feel as though she’d been stripped naked with his eyes. Even so, she was convinced that he could see beyond her disguise to the impostor lurking beneath.

“Lady Dupont.”

Whatever she thought she’d seen in his expression was gone in a flash. He was formally correct once again as he kissed her gloved hand. His lips felt hot, even through the thin lace of her glove, searing her skin where they made contact. Her reaction reverberated throughout her entire body, down to the tips of her toes and then back again, pooling in places she no longer allowed herself to think about. It was ridiculous and she snatched her hand away with a little laugh.

“Shall we join the others?”

“You have acquired a new modiste since we last met.” He made no comment about her extreme reaction to having her hand kissed, which she was sure hadn’t escaped his notice. Nor did he move towards the drawing room. “The ladies have been talking of little else this past half hour. As always, Julia, you’re the centre of attention.”

“Thanks entirely to my friend Katrina Sinclair.”

“Then your friend has a rare talent and a good eye.”

“Thank you. I shall pass on your compliments to Mrs. Sinclair. And since you admire her efforts so much, perhaps you could recommend her to the ladies of your acquaintance. That ought to keep her in enough clients to last a millennia.”

“Certainly. Where is she to be found, this paragon of the fashion stakes?”

“In Basing Lane, Cheapside.”

Kincade quirked a brow. “Then she must be very able indeed for you to patronise her establishment.”

Katrina gestured to the green velvet gown. “If even you have noticed the result of her labours then there can be no question that she is. Besides, she won’t be there for long. She confidently expects to move to a more fashionable address as soon as she’s made her mark. With me as her patroness, that’s bound to happen very soon.”

“I don’t doubt it in the slightest.”

“I shall make it my mission to ensure that she displaces the haughty Mrs. Montague, who thinks so highly of her dreadful designs. And Celestine too, whilst I’m at it.” Katrina flapped a hand. “Mrs. Montague wouldn’t know a fichu from a facing, but Lady Harling adopted her and now society’s elite have followed like sheep just because Lady Harling’s star happens to be in the ascendancy.” As she warmed to her theme, Katrina forget to keep her face averted and turned to Lord Kincade, a saucy smile hovering about her lips. His eyes lingered on her features, a slight frown creasing his brow and she quickly averted her gaze again. “I aim to evict them both from their elevated positions and put Mrs. Sinclair in their place.”

“A laudable ambition. However, I wasn’t waiting here in the expectation of discussing fashion with you, Julia, riveting though the subject might be.”

“Oh, then what—”

“I should have thought that would have been self-evident.”

“I don’t have the pleasure of understanding you.” She snapped open her fan and regarded him from behind its flimsy defence. How would Julia handle this situation? In the same manner she handled any situation involving a man below the age of sixty, Katrina supposed. She would flirt. “Our past relationship is history now and I’m happily united with Dupont.” She lifted her shoulders and flashed what she hoped would pass for a smile of marital bliss. “I trust we can put matters behind us and remain friends. Some things are better not spoken about, even between ourselves.”