Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

After dinner, I scoured the library for books with information about the Lake District. I should have packed my bags and left before my ruse was exposed, but there was nowhere for me to go.

Most importantly, the thought of leaving my husband broke my heart.

If it meant pretending I grew up in the Lake District and spoke with a perfect British accent then so be it.

The question of Jeffrey's reaction loomed but was pushed to the recesses of my mind.

I took a book to the bedchamber and practiced my accent by reading aloud. The Lake District encompasses the counties of Cumberland, Westmorland, and Lancashire.

"Lancashah, Lancashah." I practiced soft R pronunciation while pacing the room.

A tap on the door startled me. My maid, Annie, entered "Lady Amherst, are you in need of anything?" She looked at me quizzically.

"No, Annie. Thank you." I picked up my book and continued reading to myself, but she did not leave. I stopped to address her. "Annie, is something wrong?"

She gazed at the floor then met my eyes. "Please, ma'am. I heard you talking and thought you might be in need of assistance."

"Thank you, Annie." I did my best not to blush at being caught out. "All is well. You may return at the usual time to assist me in dressing for bed."

Still, the maid persisted. "Your grace." She drew a deep breath. "Pardon me if this offends, but has your voice changed?"

"What an extraordinary thing to say." My voice came out somewhere between my natural American pronunciation and my newly acquired British accent.

Confused, Annie left the room.

Sleep eluded me. I missed the comfort of curling up to Jeffrey's warm body during the night.

Guilt over my deception plagued me. What a traitor to my heritage. How had I gone from challenging Jeffrey when he defamed my country to pretending to be a proper English lady? And why?

I woke from what little rest I got resolved to put an end to the charade. I waited for Lady Hampshire's visit fully intending to confess my sham.

I would tell her I was an American who had never been to the Lake District, apologize, and trust she showed compassion.

When the butler announced that I had visitors and asked if I was at home for callers, I braced myself to do the right thing.

I entered the morning room fully prepared to meet my fate but pulled up short.

Seated with Lady Hampshire was an older woman whom she introduced as her mother, Lady Buckland.

How could I confess my dishonesty in front of a stranger? Someone's mother, no less? True, I barely knew Lady Hampshire, but she was near my age and appeared to have a sense of humor. I hoped she would understand the folly of a young woman in a strange land.

"How lovely to meet you, Lady Amherst," Lady Buckland said. "I apologize for not calling upon you sooner but I, like so many others, was under the impression you were an American. I simply could not bring myself to be polite to a Yank."

I ought to have set her straight right then and there. Told her the truth then booted her out of my house.

But I didn't.

"I must find out who is spreading such horrid rumors about me."

My guests exchanged a knowing glance when I spoke. Their scrutiny made me anxious, so I snuck a peek in the mirror over the mantel. I looked fine. Perhaps I had imagined it.

"People are always quick to gossip. There is so little else to occupy their minds," Lady Buckland said.

I found it ironic she criticized the gossips, yet appeared to be a happy participant in the pastime as well.

"Please, do not be concerned," Lady Hampshire said. "I am sure his grace is very pleased to have you as his wife."

"Oh yes, I am sure of it as well." Her mother offered a reassuring smile. "What gentleman wouldn't be pleased by a lovely young lady such as you? It is obvious you have excellent breeding and comportment, and isn't that what a man wants?"

I simply nodded.

"I hope you and the Duke will honor us by attending the annual lawn party Lord Buckland and I host. It is the highlight of the summer here in the country, if I do say so myself." Lady Buckland reached into her reticule to retrieve an invitation, which she handed to me.

I read the invitation, noting the event was to occur in only three days' time.

"I know it is short notice, and I would understand if you have other plans." Lady Buckland had a warm, maternal air about her that made me jealous of her two daughters. "I assumed Jeffrey knew about it since he attends faithfully. However, I can understand how he might have been distracted by his new wife."

I blushed.

The arrival of the downstairs maid with refreshments interrupted our discussion. Instead of thanking her, as I usually did, I simply nodded and smiled. She curtsied but before she left the room, she paused.

"Is everything to your liking, your grace?"

My rebuff had hurt her feelings. I hated to think she might believe me miffed with her. On the other hand, she would expect my real voice while my guests anticipated my sham voice, which made speaking out of the question.

So, I did what any self-respecting imposter would do. I pretended to cough uproariously then waved her off while my guests fussed over my apparent attack of something.

Once she left the room, I miraculously recovered. However, this would not be the last such predicament, unless I ended this charade.

I drew in a long breath, squared my shoulders, and addressed my two visitors. "I am deeply sorry, but his grace and I have other plans. I wish you the very best, though, with your party."

Both ladies were appropriately disappointed. "If your plans change, please reconsider," Lady Buckland said.

"Yes, I would enjoy spending more time with you. There are so few lively young ladies about who wish to have fun. I do get tired of stitching and painting screens. I am sure we shall be fast friends," Lady Hampshire added with a laugh.

"Thank you." Her compliment filled me with guilt. "I shall endeavor to be worthy of your interest."

"I am sure you will. I cannot wait to hear all about the Lake District as well as how you met the Duke of Amherst." She moved to the edge of her seat, obviously hoping I would regale her immediately.

"Oh, yes. I simply adore hearing how young people meet and fall in love." Lady Buckland clasped her hands in front of her. "Please tell us."

It is an interesting story. We first became acquainted at a ball when he dragged me outside, turned me over his knee then reddened my bottom.

No, that certainly would not do.

While I clutched my teacup inspiration struck. Overcome by another faux coughing fit, I dumped the contents onto my skirt.

I jumped up, wailing and bemoaning my clumsiness. Soon my guests excused themselves with the promise of another call soon.

In the afternoon, while tending to my pineapple plant, I contemplated the predicament I had created for myself. The plant required very little attention, but the solitude plus the heavenly aroma of the conservatory soothed me, and I craved comfort.

What a mess! This escapade far exceeded the scandal in Boston when I punched the poor young man who attempted to kiss me.

And even the one in London which led to my marriage to Jeffrey.

I sat amongst the greenery and exotic flowers, breathing deeply of the aromatic blooms, desperate for inspiration.

I assessed the situation. Only three ladies had been subjected to my ruse. Lady Hampshire admitted she did not socialize with many ladies besides her sister, so perhaps the story had not spread too far.

All I needed to do was avoid Lady Buckland and her daughters. I had declined the invitation to the party at the Buckland estate. As soon as Jeffrey got home, I would suggest we return to London.

No, I had an even better plan. I would go to him. Immediately.