Chapter 2
Lady Noelle Parrish could not stop thinking about the handsome man she had met earlier in the day; it had been quite an accident really. It was an unusually sunny spring day and after having been cooped up in the house for the better part of the week, Noelle had been anxious to get out and partake of some fresh air and feel the sunshine on her face. She had convinced her lady’s maid, Hope, to accompany her on a brisk walk, grabbing a bonnet as she eagerly exited the townhouse she inhabited during the season with her father, Lord Brattondale in Mayfair.
She had been clumsily attempting to tie her bonnet in place as she vigorously walked down the road, Hope trailing in her wake when she felt herself colliding into a solid mass. Noelle gasped, taking a sudden step back away from the object when she felt two strong hands encircle her upper arms. Even through the thick spencer she was wearing, she felt the warmth of those strong hands and an odd tingling sensation accompanying the warmth. She focused her eyes on an expertly tied cravat, white as freshly fallen snow. She vaguely remembered hearing a low chuckle before looking up into the most striking green eyes she had ever seen, causing her to inhale sharply.
“Pardon me miss,” the man said, his rich voice soothing and distracting at the same time. She could tell by his accent that he was an American.
Noelle reached up to straighten her bonnet before speaking, “My apologies sir, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”
“I can’t say that I mind.” The stranger smiled a radiant smile that caused flutters in the pit of her stomach. Reaching for her hand, he placed a gentle kiss on the inside of her wrist, “I’m Soren Johanssen from Boston, pleased to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Noelle Parrish.”
From somewhere behind her she heard Hope clear her throat, “That would be Lady Noelle.”
Noelle rolled her eyes, not sure she cared to have her maid inform this untitled American of proprieties. There was something exciting about not having to bend to the rules of society and being able to be just plain Noelle for once. She looked back into Soren’s handsome face, “How long are you in London, Mr. Johanssen?”
He looked into her eyes before slowly perusing the rest of her body. When his eyes finally rested back on her face his own face held a look of satisfaction. “Not nearly long enough it would seem my lady.”
Noelle felt her cheeks heat at his words but couldn’t help her own forwardness, “Well then Soren,” it felt deliciously naughty to call a man by his Christian name, especially one she had only just met. “I sincerely hope that I see you again.” She looked down coyly before rewarding him with a stunning grin of her own.
“As do I Noelle.” He replied, purposely leaving off the Lady. She knew it was wishful thinking to assume she’d ever have the opportunity to see him again. With him being an American, she knew the chances of seeing him at any society event was extremely limited, but still it had been fun to flirt with the handsome man with chestnut hair and startling green eyes the color of a spring leaf.
As if sensing her thoughts he leaned in close, his voice just louder than a whisper, “I hear the ices at Gunter’s are refreshing on a sunny day. I may just have to find out for myself tomorrow afternoon if the weather holds.”
Was he implying what she thought he was implying? She held her breath, not daring to hope that he had been suggesting she meet him at Gunter’s for fear of those hopes being dashed. The thought of seeing him again made her heart beat with anticipation. She must’ve taken too long to reply because he straightened and said, “You do like ices don’t you Noelle?”
“But of course, in fact I think tomorrow afternoon might be the perfect time to enjoy one.” She couldn’t believe she had just slyly agreed to meet him. Before she had the chance to back out, he winked at her discreetly then bowed slightly.
“Well good day to you my lady. Be careful where you’re walking.” Then he took off in the direction he had been initially heading before the interruption as if it was an everyday occurrence for him to make plans for clandestine meetings with innocent young ladies. And for all Noelle knew of the man, maybe it was.
Noelle had spent the better part of the afternoon daydreaming about that brief encounter with the mysterious and handsome American. She kept fretting about her decision to agree to meet with him at Gunter’s the following day. She was deeply intrigued by the man, for he had sparked more interest in her in their short acquaintance than had any other gentleman in the entire three seasons since she had debuted. She knew her father, Lord Brattondale, was becoming increasingly impatient with her reluctance to settle on someone to marry. But that was an enormous part of her problem, she refused to settle. All the men that she met and danced with were either too boring, too conceited, too tall, too short, too plump, and too stern—the list could go on and on.
It wasn’t that they weren’t interested in her, for she certainly had plenty of offers of marriage and courtship— she just wasn’t interested in any of them. She knew that at almost twenty-one years of age she was getting close to being considered on the shelf and as her age increased, so did her father’s desire to see her married off, almost as if she were a burden he wished to see placed on somebody else’s shoulders.
She shifted in the window seat of her bedroom overlooking the streets below and harrumphed, if only she could figure out how to meet with Soren the following afternoon. It just wasn’t proper for a lady of her class to be seen with a gentleman alone in public and the thought of having her maid tag along was out of the question. Something inside of her was telling her that this man was different than the other men she had met and if she was going to see him again, she preferred to have some privacy.
Just then Hope entered her room, “It’s time to begin getting you ready for the Everston ball tonight. Do you prefer the lavender gown or the periwinkle one milady?” When she got no response from her mistress, Hope glanced to where Noelle was sitting and was shocked to see her intently gazing at her, an odd look on her face.
“Milady, are you not feeling well?”
Noelle shook her head dispelling her intent gaze, “On the contrary, I’ve just been thinking.”
Some instinct inside of Hope told her exactly what her mistress had been thinking about, “You’re thinking about that American gentleman aren’t you?”
She slid off the window seat and came to stand directly in front of Hope, closer than either one of them was usually comfortable with. “Oh Hope, I’ve been thinking about his offer to meet me tomorrow at Gunter’s. I just have to see him once more.” Then abruptly changing directions she said, “I’ve just suddenly realized how much you resemble me. Isn’t that odd?” Her voice was suspicious.
“I hardly think so milady, flattering as that may be.” Hope’s hand went self consciously up to her hair and the tight bun she had always worn at the base of her neck. Her mother Matilde had always gone to great lengths to ensure that Hope didn’t appear attractive in the least, claiming if she appeared even slightly beautiful she’d only attract unwanted advances from the master of the house or other servants, finding herself in the kind of trouble she didn’t need. She even made her take the extra precaution of wearing spectacles to disguise any beauty she may have though she didn’t need the things to see. She knew she couldn’t look even similar to Lady Noelle who just so happened to be an exceptionally handsome lady, with hair the shade of honey and striking eyes the unique shade of light amber. More than one man had fallen in love with her based on her looks alone. Surely she mustn’t be feeling well if she thought that Hope’s plain features held any resemblance to her own.
“I think you may be getting ill milady, why don’t you lie down for a spell and see if this episode passes.”
“Oh nonsense, have you looked at yourself in the glass recently? You even have the same odd colored eyes as mine.”
Of course Hope hadn’t noticed, she couldn’t remember the last time she had looked in a looking glass. She purposely tried to avoid mirrors, having been
told she should avoid vanity at all costs. Besides, she knew she was nothing fancy and didn’t want to depress herself further by having that truth confirmed to her each time she caught her reflection staring back at her.
Noelle grasped Hope’s shoulders and spun her towards the looking glass hanging above a small desk, “Take a look for yourself. And take those dratted spectacles off so you can actually see your eyes.” Hope stood in front of the desk, her eyes focused on the toes of her serviceable brown shoes. She felt apprehensive about looking in the mirror, not sure what her mistress was trying to accomplish. Before she had time to decide what she should do, Noelle had reached over and pulled her thick framed spectacles off of her face, nudging her closer towards the glass.
“Come on, look.” She urged her. Slowly Hope’s gaze ascended till she was staring at herself in the looking glass, seeing her reflection for the first time in years. She let out an audible gasp as one hand flew up to touch her cheek then her lips as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing was real. She leaned in to take a closer look at her eyes and jumped back with shock. They were the exact same shade as Lady Noelle’s. She had never been so shocked in all of her life. She slowly turned her astonished expression on Noelle who was smiling as if she had just been granted a prize.
“See what I mean? I suspect if we let your hair out of that severe style and refashioned it into something a bit more becoming and applied a touch of rouge to your cheeks you could pass as me.” Before Hope had a chance to object, Noelle was reaching for the pins holding the bun in place and gently tugged them out, causing Hope’s hair to cascade in thick waves down her back, nearly reaching her waist.
“This isn’t a good idea milady. I’m not sure what you are trying to accomplish but I think we best be getting you ready for the ball and quit this nonsense.” Hope tried her best to put an authoritative tone to her voice, “And I think it would be best if you put all thoughts of this American man from your head.” She quickly rewound her hair into the ever present bun, pinning it tightly into place.
“Oh but I can’t. He’s the most handsome, intriguing man I have ever met. I’ve never felt so attracted to a man in all my years, and you and I both know I’ve met plenty. Please just hear me out, I have a plan.”
“You know it wouldn’t be seemly for you to meet with a gentleman alone in public. You’re father would never allow it and I will not be party to that meeting because I do not approve. You know nothing of the man or his morals.”
“Of course father wouldn’t approve,” she decided to gloss over the fact that Hope herself didn’t approve as well, “But it wouldn’t be unseemly for you to go out by yourself in the afternoon. No one would suspect anything if you left for an afternoon visit to go see your mother.”
Hope shook her head back and forth slowly, confused. “You know I have no desire to speak to that American again, I told you I wouldn’t be party to this.”
Noelle laughed heartily, “Don’t be obtuse. Of course I’m not suggesting you go meet him. How would that solve anything?” Hope didn’t know, for she had been wondering the same thing. “I was actually thinking that if I posed as you I could easily slip from the house to meet him. No one would suspect a thing, it’s brilliant!”
“But what if your father comes looking for you or someone comes calling and you are nowhere to be found? How then would I explain your absence?”
“That’s why you would have to pretend to be me. You could borrow one of my dresses and style your hair as you do mine and no one would ever know.” She clapped her hands together excitedly, “It’s the perfect solution, rather brilliant actually.”
Hope felt a knot of dread forming in the pit of her stomach. She could not even pretend to feel a modicum of the excitement that Noelle was exhibiting at the preposterous scheme. There was no way that she, a lowly servant, could ever pass herself off as a real lady, even if there was an uncanny resemblance between her and her mistress. No, it wouldn’t work and Noelle was a fool to think otherwise. Hope would simply have to refuse.
Before she could offer her objections Noelle was speaking once more, “Oh Hope, you have to do this for me. I think I’ll just die if I don’t get to see Soren once more.” She flung herself dramatically across her large tethered bed. Hope rolled her eyes. She was used to her mistress’s dramatics but this was even more exaggerated than what she was accustomed to.
“I’m almost positive you wouldn’t die milady. Now put this nonsense from your mind and let’s get you into your dress.” She went to the dressing room and pulled the lavender gown from the closet, “I think this will do perfectly, I prefer it to the periwinkle one.” She set about laying out the dress, hoping that Noelle would abandon her idea and let her begin her preparations for tonight’s ball. Just as Hope had turned to retrieve the purple satin slippers that went so well with the lavender dress, Noelle had come up behind her and put a hand on her shoulders, forcing her to turn and face her.
“You can’t tell me no,” It was a statement but though she said it with more pleading than command, Hope knew that it was true. If she valued her position as lady’s maid, and she did, she knew that she couldn’t very well tell her mistress no, regardless of how horrible the idea was. She felt the fight go out of her as her shoulders went limp, her arms falling dejectedly to her side.
“Yes milady, anything you say.”
Noelle squealed, “You mean it? Really, you’d do that for me?”
“I don’t see as how I have a choice.” Hope was shocked when Noelle pulled her into her arms, bestowing upon her a fierce hug.
“Everything will go perfectly, you’ll see.”