The Grand Deception

Chapter one

"Lavinia Augustus! You cannot be serious!" exclaimed Arvinia Augustus, staring in open disbelief at the shiny gold ring emblem with the crest of Horatio's; her cousin was holding out to her in the palm of one hand.

"I can't wear that. You know as well as I that the golden ring is a token of your betrothal to Alexander."

"Yes, I know," retorted Lavinia. "And that when it is joined with its twin, which even now adorns the Duke of Alfreton's hand, it will serve as my wedding band," she added in the tone of one reciting a litany. "It would be strange if I did not know."

"Well?" Arvinia questioned, as though she had proved her point. Then, when her cousin showed no sign of relinquishing her outrageous idea, she added, "Faith, Vinia!" Arvinia paced a step and came back. "Alexander believes you are going to marry him! Which means he undoubtedly wishes to take you to Thornhill so that he can make all the arrangements, publish the banns, present you to his family all the things that a beautiful wedding entails. And you want me to go in your place? Good Lord, whatever can you be thinking?"

"Oh, really, Arvinia," Lavinia retorted, as if the request she had just made of her cousin were quite unexceptional.

"There's no need to make more of this than it is. I just want to borrow you for a little while. Is it really so much to ask? Have I ever refused you anything when you needed it? Have I ever asked for anything in return?"

"No," Arvinia admitted reluctantly, though she could think of more than a few times when Lavinia had used that same argument to cajole her participation in a scheme that had subsequently landed them both in trouble. "But-"

"There, you see?" Lavinia interrupted with an air of triumph. "The fact that I mention such things now only demonstrates the extremities of my situation. My future happiness depends on you, Arvinia."

Arvinia threw up her hands in exasperation.

"Now you are roasting me," she protested, rolling her eyes ceilingward. "For God sake Lavinia, why do you not simply tell Alexander the truth?"

"Because," Lavinia replied in the tone of one explaining the obvious, "I do not gain control of Grandma's trust until my twentieth birthday, which is only three weeks away. Until then, I cannot afford to alienate Uncle George's affections. Or had you forgotten he is my guardian? If he found out Bernard and I were married by special license three months ago, he would not hesitate to have the marriage annulled. And, worse, he would exile me to some dreadful place, like he did to Aunt Clara in Hereford, and refuse to let me see Bernard until the poor dear was already on his way to Portugal. Then it might be months, even years, before we could be together again. No, Arvinia, I do not intend to let anything stop me from following Bernard and his comrade when the time comes."

"One shudders at the thought," agreed Arvinia dryly, marveling that anyone, let alone her cousin, whose closest concept of suffering hardship was having her luncheon interrupted by a rain shower, could see anything even remotely desirable in bivouacking with the king's army in foreign places.

Lavinia's eyes sparkled dangerously. "Oh, you may scoff if you wish. But I assure you I am quite serious about this.Oh, do you not see?" she added, a tinge of colour invading her cheeks.

"It is all Uncle George's fault that I am reduced to such a ploy. If he had not unaccountably taken my dearest Bernard in dislike and, furthermore, betrothed me to Alexander when I was a child, none of this would be necessary. As it is, I have no choice but to make it seem as though I have obediently agreed to wed Alexander. When the truth finally comes out, I shall have my competence, and twenty-four hours after that, I shall be with Bernard on the ship to Lisbon."

Lavinia grasped Arvinia's hands earnestly in her own. "I'm only asking you to keep the duke dangling for three weeks, Vinia. That is all the time I need. Then all you have to do is tell Alexander that you have decided you do not suit after all. I shall give you the money you need to save your beloved Hollows, and you need never see the Duke of Alfreton again. You see, it is all very simple."

"Simple!" Arvinia gasped, jerking her hands free as if they had been scorched. "It is despicable. You have a very odd notion of my character if you think I should accept money for such a thing. Why, we should both be beneath reproach. And even if what you propose were not utterly unacceptable, Lavinia, we cannot possibly get away with it."

"I don't see why not," Lavinia demurred with a shrug. "Uncle George and Aunt Alice are gone to Brighton for the waters and know nothing of Alexander's return. They have left me in Aunt Lucia's charge. She, at least, would never dream of putting an obstacle in the way of my happiness."

"Oh, I don't doubt that for a moment," Arvinia retorted acerbically. Lavinia's Aunt Lucia was an irrepressible romantic.

"Well then." Lavinia shrugged, glancing at the mantel clock for perhaps the dozenth time since Arvinia had arrived. "I hardly see where we can fail."

"Well, there is the duke," Arvinia suggested sardonically,gazing at her reflection next to Lavinia's in a great wall mirror. She could not but notice that her cousin's teal blue walking dress and the matching capote perched jauntily atop lustrous brown curls made her own worn and outmoded brown serge carriage dress and hurriedly refurbished beaver with the flimsy feather look even dowdier than usual. "Somehow I cannot think he would ever take plain Arvinia Augustus for Lavinia, London's newest Reigning Beauty."

"I wish you would not belittle yourself, Arvinia. You are anything but plain," Lavinia insisted. "And as far as the duke is concerned, I hardly think he will be a problem. I was only ten, after all, when he saw me last, and you must admit that any description he has of me might just as easily fit you."

Chapter two

Arvinia frowned, unable to deny it. In spite of the fact that she, Arvinia, could never be mistaken for Lavinia by anyone who knew her cousin, they were, in general, very similar in appearance. With only a month separating them in age, they were of the same lofty height-fully five feet, eight inches in their stockinged feet and with a willowy slenderness. In addition, they both had the Augustus family traits of dark hair, brown eyes, and captivating dimples in either cheek. There the resemblance ended, for while Lavinia was a beauty of the first water, Arvinia was keenly aware that she was blessed with only passable good looks. Not that it had ever mattered to her that Lavinia had a marvelously short, straight nose, beguilingly pouty rose-red lips, and strikingly beautiful gold-brown eyes (her own nose was decidedly retroussé, her mouth wide and expressive of a keen appreciation of the absurd, and her eyes more nut-brown than golden), for, indeed, it had not.

The truth was Arvinia had never been one to pay undue attention to how she looked. She had always been much too busy looking after her lovable, but totally erratic, family. There had not even been time for her to do more than experience a slight twinge of regret for having to give up any thought of a come-out in London or anywhere else for that matter. Her mom had died when she was ten, and even if her dearest dad had miraculously emerged from his studies long enough to realize his only daughter was of an age to be brought out, there simply was not the money for it. For as long as Arvinia could remember, her free-thinking parent had dedicated himself to working in his laboratory at home,which allowed him little time for mundane matters. With the result that Hollows, the small family estate in Kent, was reduced to a sorry state of affairs. Thus far, Arvinia's hard work and determination had been all that had kept it from going under the auctioneer's block. And now that it looked as if they might actually make a profit off the sheep and the grain crop, the bill collectors were gathering at her door demanding to be paid or they would take her dad to court. She required only a small sum to hold them at bay long enough to reap the spring harvest, and so she reluctantly had made the forty-mile trip to London to see Lavinia, who was the orphaned daughter and sole offspring of the previous Earl of Beverly, and was used to spending far more than that on mere shopping . She had not expected to be asked to sell her soul for the sum. Nor would she, Arvinia told herself firmly.

"I won't do it, Vinia," she said, squaring her shoulders.

"And most especially not for money. Surely you can see how wrong that would be. You must simply tell Uncle George the truth. Perhaps," she added doubtfully. "he will prove to be more generous than you have previously imagined him to be."

"Really?" queried Lavinia, arching a delicate eyebrow. "If he is so generous, then why don't you ask him for the sum that you need? He is, after all, your uncle, too."

"That is not fair, Vinia, and you know it," Arvinia retaliated. "It is not at all the same thing. Dad and Uncle Charles have not spoken a word to each other since dad married my mom against our grandfather's wishes.

"On the contrary, my dearest cousin Arvinia," Lavinia countered, "that only proves my point. Uncle George will do exactly as Grandfather did. They are cut of the same cloth."

It was true. The old earl, not satisfied with merely writing his youngest son out of his will, had further forbidden that his name ever be spoken again. Lavinia's father, upon inheriting the title, had generously signed Hollows over to his impoverished youngest brother, and Arvinia's uncle, George had never forgiven him for it. When he in turn became earl at the untimely demise of his elder brother in a carriage accident, Uncle George had made it clear he would have taken Hollows back had it not been unentailed property. But as it was, there was nothing he could do about it except refuse to have anything to do with his only remaining sibling or that sibling's ill-begotten offspring, a fact which Lavinia, to her credit, had always considered extremely unjust.

She had, in fact, done everything in her power to help her less fortunate cousin whether she was asked or not, even going so far as to suggest Arvinia and she be brought out together at Lavinia's expense. This, Arvinia had refused to do, saying that accepting a loan or two on occasion was one thing, but allowing her cousin to foot the bill for a new wardrobe and everything that went with a come-out in London was too much by half.

"Oh, Vinia," Arvinia murmured, "you know I love you and would do anything for you. But I cannot do this. Please don't ask me to. Besides, its being unfair to the duke, I am nothing like you. I have never even been to a ball. I know nothing of Town gossip, have never met any of the upper-class, and would not know the first thing about making polite conversation. I would disgrace us both. And even if I would, by some miracle, be able to pull the wool over His Grace's eyes, I have nothing suitable to wear."

"That's not a problem!" Lavinia laughed. "All you have to do is be yourself. You are possessed of a keen wit and unexceptional manners. You would charm the duke without even trying. And just think. You would at least have the chance to see what it is like to be in the company of a gentleman who not only has the distinction of being a hero, but is, besides, the catch of the Marriage Mart. As for something to wear, I have already seen to it that a trunk has been packed with all the gowns and accessories you could possibly require." Lavinia averted her face and added contritely. "I beg you to forget what I said earlier about the money. Naturally, I should never begrudge such a small sum, and I have more gowns than I can possibly take to Portugal. They would only go to waste here. Whether you go in my place to Thornhill or not, I want you to have them and the money you need to save Hollows one more year."

Chapter three

Arvinia stifled a groan. How like Vinia to be generous when that was the very last thing Arvinia could wish. In the past, such disingenuous tactics had invariably overridden Arvinia's habitual common sense so that she had in the end allowed herself to be embroiled in whatever outlandish plot Lavinia had devised for them. But not this time, Arvinia vowed. This time her cousin risked ruin for them both.

"I regret that I cannot possibly accept your generosity," she stated steadfastly. "Any more than I can take your place at Thornhill. Lavinia, surely you must see that I cannot?"

"I see nothing but that I am in a desperate situation" snapped Lavinia with uncharacteristic sharpness. But immediately she recollected herself.

"Forgive me, Arvinia," she murmured, touching a hand to her forehead. "I had no right to take my frustration out on you. It is only that I am at my wit's end. I have even contemplated eloping in the hopes that Uncle George will not find me before the ship leaves for Portugal. I no longer care that my reputation would be ruined. At least I should be with Bernard."

At Arvinia's sharp intake of breath, Lavinia hastened to add, "But naturally I shall not do anything quite so desperate. Not while you are here at any rate." She smiled wryly, her glance going once more to the clock.

"Oh, dear, I must go," she said. "I promised to visit Lady Montesquieu. She is holding a grand musical concert at her home inorder to show off her youngest daughter, nothing more, but I'm afraid I dare not miss it. Wait for me, dearest. I shall not stay longer than an hour or two. Then we shall have a long relaxation just the two of us, I promise."

She kissed Arvinia on the cheek then, adding offhandedly that a dress had been laid out for her to try on-to pass the time if nothing else and hurriedly left.

Arvinia, who knew Lavinia too well to believe that the matter was so happily ended and who fully expected her cousin to renew her campaign upon her return, fortified herself with a hot bath, after which she allowed Lavinia's maid Abigail to brush out her short curls and help her into the terra-cotta merino round gown with the high ruffled collar, which, in addition to white kid half boots and a Prussian helmet trimmed in ermine, her cousin had caused to be laid out for her.

For several moments she stared with wry appreciation at the change in her appearance. The terra-cotta of the gown accentuated her flawless ivory complexion, while the soft fabric flowing from a high waist clung subtly to her soft, feminine curves, rendering her generous inches graceful rather than gawky.

Unused to anything quite so fine or lovely, Arvinia could not deny that the gown suited her admirably. On the other hand, she could not but think it a little strange that Lavinia had chosen a dress better suited to an outing in Hyde Park than the intimate relaxation at home that her cousin had promised.

No sooner had that thought crossed her mind than the sound of a carriage drew her to the window overlooking Grosvenor Square. She looked out, expecting to see her cousin had returned. What she saw, however, was a traveling coach pulled by a magnificent team of matched grays.

A groom hurried to open the coach door, and a gentleman stepped out. His lean frame draped in a many-caped greatcoat and his face hidden in the shadow of a curly-brimmed beaver, she could tell little about him, except that he was tall, broad-shouldered, and obviously a gentleman of fashion. Then he turned, and, to her horror, she saw his left leg appear to buckle beneath him. Her breath stopped as he clutched at the carriage door and caught himself. She little doubted that he uttered a curse as, angrily, he shook off the arm of the groom, who instinctively had reached out to help him. The unfortunate hireling fairly jerked to attention, his gaze studiously fixed on some distant point, as the gentleman straightened, then, depending heavily on an ebony stick, limped toward the house.

Thoughtfully, Arvinia withdrew from the window, her heart strangely touched by what she had witnessed. Having been reared with four brothers, she was keenly aware of how galling such an affliction must be to the male sense of pride. Who was he? she wondered. One of Lavinia's bevy of admirers? The image of him as he flung off the groom's proffered arm, came back to her. Somehow she could not picture the stranger jostling for her cousin's attention amid a host of moonstruck young puppies.

Her musings were rudely interrupted by a knock on her bedroom door, followed by the flurried entrance of a matronly lady, who seemed on the point of falling into a fit of the vapors.

"Arvinia, upon my word I never dreamed he would arrive so soon!" exclaimed Lavinia's Aunt Lucia, waving a sheet of vellum about in extreme agitation. "Indeed, I am quite certain Lavinia said we were not to look for him until tomorrow noon. Oh, whatever shall we do? Lavinia promised that when the time came, she would have arrived at a solution to our difficulties. But I have just been awakened from my nap by Hawkins, who, even for a butler, is most infuriatingly taciturn,and what must he do but inform me of our guest's arrival and give me this letter from Lavinia, which is most uncommonly distressing. Indeed, I cannot think what Beverly will say to it. No doubt they will see to it that I am thrown out into the streets for dereliction of duty. Arvinia, I depend on you, who have always demonstrated a level head, to tell me what must be done to avert disaster, though I doubt there is anything that can be done. Mark my words, Lavinia will be ruined, and I shall spend the rest of my days in the poorhouse, I know it."

"Perhaps if you would let me read the letter, Lucia," interjected Arvinia, who could make little sense of the elderly woman's disjointed utterances.

She was to discover a number of things began to make sense as she struggled to decipher Lavinia's hastily scrawled missive, chief of which were her cousin's repeated glances at the mantel clock, the odd choice of the terra-cotta merino dress for Arvinia perusal, and the fact that Lavinia had conveniently left the golden ring conspicuously on Arvinia's dressing table.

Dearest Aunt Lucia, (Arvinia read)

I have chosen to run away with Bernard rather than allow Uncle George to confine me to an abbey or Aunt Clara's, which would be just as intolerable. I see now that Arvinia was right and that it would be unconscionable to play such a trick on the Duke of Archibald, who has done nothing to deserve such treatment at my hands. I pray you will tender His Grace my apologies along with my sealed letter informing him I regretfully must refuse the honor of his name, since I already have Another's. Please inform Arvinia that I shall post the sum she requested and beg that she will accept it and the trunk in her room.

I am as always Your loving niece,

Lavinia.