Did you know her papa left her an enormous dowry?
Yours respectfully,
Lady Cheshire
Simon folded the letter and put it in the pocket of his coat. He might be an earl, but his father had been a gambler, and he’d left behind many debts. Simon had no choice but to do the gentlemanly thing and pay everything his father owed. And since any inheritance from his aunt was years away, he’d either need to hope for a miracle or marry someone very wealthy. Hence, his aunt’s comment about the young lady’s wealth, he supposed.
He thought about Miss Waterford. Her father had been a baronet of tremendous wealth, but Lady Waterford and her son, the new baronet, no doubt wanted even better for her. Marriage to an earl and the title and power that came with it would be ideal.
He wasn’t entirely opposed, even though both Miss Waterford and her mama seemed rather odd and melodramatic. He still could not understand what had happened in Highgate Cemetery. All the screaming and claims of seeing ghosts. It was absurd. He did not believe in ghosts, but he understood that Highgate had a reputation for being haunted, and it made some people imagine things. Still, she claimed the ghost had stolen her cloak and her boots. And when he’d come to her rescue, her shoes were indeed missing.
That is what alerted him to the fact that it had all been a setup. Miss Waterford either craved attention and wanted to get her name into the newspapers, or she sought a husband and hoped some fool would come to her rescue. But any fool wouldn’t do.
So, he had to ask himself—had she known he was in the cemetery that day, visiting his family crypt?Yes, she must have done.
Her plan had been successful; he had to admit that much. Their names were now forever linked. He was Miss Waterford’s knight—the man who’d fought off ghosts to rescue the damsel in distress. No doubt she, and many others, felt he belonged to her. Simon shook his head. It was an unusual way of attracting a husband, but he supposed a young lady had to find a way to stand out in the crowd. And marrying her would certainly solve the problems his father had left behind.
He turned to the carriage window and stared out at the street, which bustled with people. But what of the beautiful young lady he’d seen in the cemetery as he’d come to Miss Waterford’s rescue? He envisioned the young woman’s lush chestnut curls, large green eyes, exquisitely delicate features, and creamy skin. Had she been real or a figment of his imagination? The mind could sometimes play tricks, especially in places like a cemetery. Yet, he’d seen her cheeks grow rosy when they’d locked eyes. But if she’d been real, what had she been doing in Highgate Cemetery all alone? More importantly, who was she? And how was he to find out?
Chapter Four
“Istill thinkthis is a bad idea,” Sophie said as the hansom cab rolled onto Oxford Street, which bustled with people despite the wintry weather. “Can’t we devise some other way to get me a dress?”
“Well, I suppose we can fashion one out of the curtains in the drawing room, but such a dress won’t be good enough for Lady Cheshire’s ball, dear,” Aunt Mildred said. “You will be competing with all the nubile daughters of the ton.”
“Perhaps, I shouldn’t go to the ball then. After all, I wasn’t actually invited.”
“But youwereinvited. You have your invitation written in Lady Cheshire’s companion’s hand.”
“A hand you forced,” Sophie said. “Lady Cheshire doesn’t even know who I am. She will realize I was not on her list of invitees.”
“You needn’t worry about that. Her ladyship had a little visit from Agnes and me in her dreams. You are now foremost in her thoughts. She will remember inviting you.”
Sophie shook her head and laughed. Her aunts had a plan for everything.
“Now, when we get inside the drapers,” Aunt Agnes said as their hansom cab came to a stop, “all you need to do is browse, and let us worry about the rest.”
Sophie’s stomach clenched. “Can we not go elsewhere? Somewhere less conspicuous, perhaps? Why must we come to the biggest and busiest drapers in London?”
“Because, my dear, the more people there are, the less conspicuous you will be,” Aunt Mildred said just before she and Aunt Agnes slipped through the body of the carriage.
They waited for her, hovering in the air outside, as she stepped out of the carriage and paid the driver. Then she took a deep breath and said a silent prayer before following her aunts, who sailed above the heads of the pedestrians and as they made their way to the drapers.
Once inside the shop, Sophie felt her nerves melt away as she eyed the rolls of exquisite fabric. Soft yellows, pastel pinks, deep purples, brilliant blues, and emerald greens vied for her attention. She soon became lost in a world of colors and textures, and time passed in a blur.
Until she heard Aunt Mildred whisper in her ear, “Time to go.”
“Already?” she said aloud without thinking.
A lady nearby gave her a disapproving look and shuffled away from her.
“Hurry!” Aunt Mildred hissed.
Sophie reluctantly left the beautiful fabrics and headed for the door. When she opened it, her aunts flew out in a white mist. The November air outside was frigid, and the ground was wet from recent rain. Sophie pulled her lush velvet cloak more tightly around her shoulders, silently thanking her aunts and Miss Waterford.
“Stay back, Sophie,” Aunt Agnes said. “We shall have to hurry. We don’t want to lose her.”
Who?Unable to speak the words out loud for fear of being thought mad, Sophie frowned her question at her aunt.
