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Ellie’s shoulders drooped in relief. “Now, please, why did you want to see my sister?”
“This may be hard for you to hear, but then, if you have read the papers, you know already.”
“Know what?”
“That your sister is madly in love with Samuel Carmichael, who is being tried for treason.”
Ellie shook her head. “No, she really isn’t.”
Mademoiselle Petit gave her a pitying look.
“Ah, you do not wish to believe this about a beloved sibling, but I assure you, it is true.”
“No, it’s really not. I am the one who is in love with Samuel.” Heat shot through Ellie at the words. Praying she was correct and Mademoiselle Petit was Richard Carmichael’s mistress, not Samuel’s, she pressed on. “I’ve been pretending to be the Duchess. We’re twins, you see. We look exactly alike.” To most people.
Mademoiselle Petit’s smile was like the sun coming out.
“Then it is you I have come to see, Miss Ellsworth.”
Ellie’s heart tried to climb up her throat. Was the French woman a jealous lover after all?
“You see, I cannot let this innocent young man go to the gallows. It is my Richard who stole the journal, and I sent the pages to punish him, not his baby brother.”
While describing a man as tall and capable as Samuel as a baby anything seemed ridiculous, Ellie went so weak at the woman’s words that she nearly slid from her bench to the carriage floor.
“Thank Heaven.”
“No, thank me, for I would prefer a way to put this right.” Mademoiselle Petit’s eyes narrowed. “But I am not certain that you can help me, a girl fleeing the home of her married relation.”
“Whyever not?” Ellie would do anything to see Samuel go unpunished.
“I came to see a Duchess, with the power of one, not a girl barely out of strings.”
“I can do anything my sister can do.”
“Except call upon the strength of a title.”
Ellie pressed her lips together.
She had to make this woman go through with whatever plan she’d concocted.
“For what do you need the power of a Duchess?”
Maybe Ellie could pretend to be Lizzy May one final time.
Mademoiselle Petit was shaking her head, as if privy to Ellie’s thoughts.
“No, I need the true power of a Duchess. I am willing to return the journal and swear it was Richard who did these things, but in exchange, I want him.”
“You want him?”
Ellie tried not to pull a face. Why would anyone want Richard Carmichael?
“Yes. I love him. I want to go into exile with him. His head must remain on his shoulders, and my head on mine. We must be sent away from here, somewhere his family name means nothing and his heir’s name means nothing and his responsibilities are none and we may simply be happy.”
Hearing the catch of sorrow in Mademoiselle Petit’s voice drew an answering well of sympathy in Ellie. Would she not do the same? Take exile with Samuel over never seeing him again?
They’d reached the end of the drive and, in so far as Ellie could tell, no one pursued them. Lizzy May must truly think that Ellie was in the library. A pang of guilt assailed her, but formed only a small, fading ripple when compared to her love for Samuel.
