Miss Cherrywood held up a hand. “If you’re thinking about a position as a governess, I’m sorry, but that will require some time.” A flush of colour reddened her cheeks. “It’s not for lack of demand. Good governesses are highly required, but I’m afraid that your name isn’t working in your favour, and good families require identification papers from their employees.”
Pearl’s shoulders slumped under the weight of the shame her family carried. “What about forged papers?” A knot tightened in her throat. She’d been so quick to renounce to her name, her family name, when it was the only thing left of her father.
“Forged papers require time as well, and your face is known to the best families in town. You might fool the landlady of a modest pension, but not the lady of a mansion, worried whom she’s entrusting her children with.”
“Then I’m ready to leave London. In fact, if I’d had the money, I would’ve done it already. Please, I’ll do anything.”
“I have a solution.” Again, that smile flickered. It made Pearl feel like prey. “A solution that would help you and another wayward woman.”
“How?” Pearl narrowed her gaze. The confidence of before was shrinking into a tiny bubble in her chest.
Miss Cherrywood opened her mouth, but a knock thudded from the front door.
“Here we are. Just a moment.” She rose and trotted out of the room.
Pearl slouched in the armchair and pressed two fingers on her aching temple. Secret society, forged papers, and a lady who knew too much. In what trouble was she putting herself into? But then again, Miss Cherrywood was right. No one would give her a job in London.
Hushed voices came from the corridor. There was a high-pitched note and the quick click-clack of heels, then Miss Cherrywood sauntered inside.
A young woman trudged behind her, gazing around. Her blue eyes were red and puffy, and she kept tormenting her gloves.
“Amelia, this is Miss Pearl.” Miss Cherrywood gave a nod towards Pearl. “She’s a new addition to my society, and she’ll be the perfect lady to help you.”
Pearl stood up. “Actually, I haven’t decided—”
“Will you help me? Oh, please, say yes.” Amelia ran to her and held her hands. “You’re my only hope.” A tear streamed down her cheek. Her golden curls fell in disarray on her shoulders.
The desperation in Amelia’s voice struck something in Pearl’s chest. Still, she wasn’t sure Miss Cherrywood could be trusted.
“Amelia, dear.” Miss Cherrywood held Amelia by the shoulders and led her to the couch. “Calm down. I’ve just met Pearl, and I was about to explain my plan.”
“I can pay any sum.” Amelia wiped her face with a white silk handkerchief. “Anything you want, Pearl.”
Despite everything, Amelia’s last words made Pearl perk up. Lord, what kind of person had she become? She cared about nothing but money. Her stomach groaned again. The problem was that it was hard to think straight when hunger gnawed at you all day.
She cleared her throat, trying to not sound too eager. “What is all that about?”
Amelia’s gaze roamed over her. “Pearl, you’re perfect. You look like me. We have the same height and size, same hair colour, and same eyes.”
“So I have noticed.” Miss Cherrywood perched on the armrest of the couch in such an unladylike pose that Pearl’s mother would’ve fainted.
Pearl shook her head. “Please, will you tell me what’s happening?”
“Amelia? I think it’s your story to tell.” Miss Cherrywood’s brow arched.
“Yes, of course.” With a quick swipe of her hand, Amelia brushed the blonde tresses from her face. “Pearl, I need you to impersonate me for a few hours.”
Pearl’s legs weakened. She sat down again. Impersonating someone else was a felony. She’d barely avoided prison, and these two women wanted her to commit a crime when she was wanted for another one?
“I don’t think I can do it.” Mayhap if she was quick enough, she could slip out of the room before they stopped her.
“Let me explain.” A shiver caused Amelia to tremble. “I know how strange this sounds, but please, believe me. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.” She closed her eyes briefly and released a long breath. “My parents wish to arrange my marriage with Lord Christopher Lyon, the Earl of Gladstone.” She paused and stared at Pearl, as if the name should ring a bell.
Shifting her position on the armchair, Pearl gave a shrug. “I don’t think I know him.”
Another sigh blew out of Amelia. “I’m not surprised. He doesn’t attend society often and comes to London rarely. Usually, he stays in his estate in Harpenden. He lives like a recluse, surrounding himself only with hounds and horses.”
Miss Cherrywood smoothed her skirt and smirked. “See, Lord Lyons has a terrible reputation.”
