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“There were quite a number of lawn sports at the garden party. I couldn’t participate, though. The Dowager didn’t deem them ladylike enough.”
Lizzy May sighed.
“Yes, Matthew’s mother is very concerned with appearances. Have you an outing with her today?”
Ellie shook her head and seized on the opportunity to ready her cover for that afternoon.
“I plan to practice the pianoforte, and maybe I will call on Mother. I haven’t seen her or Roslyn or Marie all week.”
“Yes, I should have thought you would cross paths more, but the Dowager seems to be taking you to events less intrinsic to the marriage mart than most, with the exception of Lady Krestlin’s party. It’s a wonder you’ve found anyone to moon over at all.”
“I am not mooning over anyone.”
“Right. You aren’t mooning over anyone.”
Ellie laughed at her sister’s tone, so at odds with her words. Her amicability restored, Ellie launched into a detailed description of the garden party, telling Lizzy May all she could recollect, except for the bits about Samuel Carmichael. Ellie would bring up his library a different time. Until she discovered if the gentleman shared any of the warm, humming feeling that filled her when they met, she couldn’t bear to be teased about him. And thanks to the Dowager’s plan, she could make the discovery with little risk to her pride, because Mr. Carmichael didn’t even know he’d met her.
When Lizzy May grew tired, Ellie withdrew to set her plan for the day in motion. First, she sent a note to the Dowager, tendering her apologies for the outing they had planned and saying she wished to keep Lizzy May company that afternoon. Then Ellie went to the vast, high ceilinged room that held the pianoforte, and space to assemble a sea of chairs for a concert. She made a show of practicing, doing so louder than she normally might, so all would recall she’d been well occupied.
After about an hour, she returned to her room and retrieved the gown the Duchess had sent for her to wear on their outing. Better accustomed to doing all the buttons and laces on her own with each passing day, Ellie donned the gown and pinned up her hair. She slid on the fake ring and other jewellery provided by the Duchess, then slid on gloves and wrapped a cloak about her to hide the dress and ornaments.
A bonnet completed the look, and Ellie gathered her funds. Her plan called for walking out the front door with enough surety that the butler wouldn’t question her, especially as she went out every day, though usually with the Dowager’s carriage waiting. Ellie considered calling for Lizzy May’s carriage to take her to the townhome her family rented, but then ordering a change in direction after they departed, but she couldn’t be certain the coachman would obey her. He might even inform Lizzy May. Instead, she’d walk to the corner and hire a hackney.
With surprising ease, Ellie was soon jouncing through London in a hackney cab, on her way to the Temple of the Muses. Excitement filled her, swirling her insides far beyond what the hackney’s poor springs could explain. Soon, she’d be at Samuel Carmichael’s side. He’d show her about his beloved Muses. His warm hazel eyes would glow with pleasure to reveal the wonders there and, she dared to hope, to have her by his side.
And maybe, in a quiet corner of the Muses, once she felt certain of his regard, she would confess her true identity. He’d be stunned at first, but then joy would overtake him. He would look down at her as he had in the theatre, his eyes intense and dark. Only this time, they would be certain they were quite alone, and he would know she wasn’t married, and so he would lean down, and touch his lips to hers. Ellie’s entire being trembled at the thought.
“Madam, we’ve arrived,” the hackney driver called.
Ellie focused on the busy street as the hackney slowed to a halt before a tall, window lined building. Through what seemed like hundreds of rectangular panes, she could see soaring shelves and row upon row of books. Lizzy May would love this place.
Heart pounding in anticipation, Ellie climbed down and moved to the front of the hackney to pay.
“Thank you, Madam. Would you be needing me to wait?”
“No, thank you. I will be some time.”
The driver tipped his hat and tucked her money away.
Ellie straightened her shoulders and, in a purposeful manner as the Dowager had taught her, strode across the walk. She didn’t slow as she approached the entrance. The Dowager had impressed upon her that a Duchess expected doors to simply open. Ellie resisted the urge to halt and, as always happened for the Dowager, open they did.
Ellie sailed inside.
Behind a curved counter, a man snapped his gaze up and offered a pleasant expression.
“May I help you, Madam?”
“I am the Duchess of Aspen,” she declared, and stopped.
Did the Duke carry a membership? Did a Duchess need one, or should she simply walk about without one, as surely the Dowager would?
“How wonderful to have you with us, Your Grace. May I assume you’ll be browsing via His Grace’s membership, or should I open you an account of your own?”
“For today, I will employ his.”
“Very well, Your Grace. Feel free to look about. If you seek anything in particular, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Ellie moved to the counter and lowered her voice.
