Page 5 of Dared By a Lyon
“That was the premise for this trip, Elizabeth,” Ashlyn replied.
“No. This was Mother’s wild idea. Mrs. Bessie-Whoever is someone from my mother’s past…a friend from her own London Season. Practically eons ago.”
“But Aunt Beatrice wrote to Mrs. Bessie Dove-Lyon specifically to ask her to plan an event whereby you could meet eligible bachelors. Proper gentlemen. Not some wild Italian artist. She even sent her a bank draft to cover any expenses.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I’ve already found my match. Matteo and I are in love.”
“Mrs. Bessie Dove-Lyon has already planned this event—at your mother’s urging,” Ashlyn continued, ignoring her cousin’s comment. “She’s an important person in London—the proprietress of the Lyon’s Den. Plus, we’ve already accepted her invitation to attendtogether.”
“Look, all you have to do is wear one of my ball gowns, do your hair the same as me, and flirt and dance with a few boring barons and eager earls, and then you can inform Mrs. Dove-Lyon that none of the bachelors appeal to you. You can just claim thatAshlynhad an attack of the megrims and thatI—meaningyou,who will be pretending to beme—insisted thatAshlynremain at the hotel, where she could rest and recover.” Elizabeth winked, folding her arms over her chest.
Ashlyn could not help but admire just how clever and devious her cousin was. She would have made an excellent spy had she been a man.
“And it’s not like I’ll be leaving you in the lurch,” Elizabeth continued. “I shall leave you more than enough of Father’s funds in the hotel safe. You can access it anytime. It’s an exorbitant amount of money. Well, except for the amount I gave Matteo for booking our passage on the ship bound for Italy. He didn’t quite have enough, as some ancient dowager duchess refused to pay him for her portrait because he didn’t make her look like a twenty-five-year-old woman instead of a seventy-five-year-old crone—but it doesn’t matter, since what’s mine will soon be his,” she said with a shrug.
“Elizabeth, if he can’t even afford his own passage, let alone yours, what makes you believe he’s telling you the truth about anything? An Italian count’s son should have resources, I think, even if he is an artist.”
“Stop saying mean things. You just don’t understand him,” Elizabeth whined.
Ashlyn took a deep breath. “I can’t change your mind. It seems you’re going through with this insanity,” she said, in a tone of resignation.
Her cousin replied with a relieved smile, “Thank you! I knew you’d support me, just like always.” Elizabeth hugged Ashlyn tightly. “Matteo and I leave tomorrow, but I’ll send a missiveto Madame Trousseau to alter the dresses for you. You’ll have plenty of fancy gowns to wear. We are close enough in size, and it should be very little work for her to shorten them a tad. And our feet are the same size. I won’t be bringing much with me—except for the trunks I arrived with, as we’ll be traveling light. Besides, Matteo assures me that Italy has some of the most talented dressmakers in the world. If I need more clothing, we can purchase it there. Rose has already packed my things, and Matteo has promised a comfortable coach.”
“Then you informed your maid, who I’m sure has already spoken to Alice, my maid, before telling me?” Ashlyn said, unable to hide her pique.
“Of course I informed Rose. She is my maid. She has no choice.”
Ashlyn had run out of arguments and realized nothing she could say would change her cousin’s mind. And if she didn’t assume Elizabeth’s identity, the only other recourse she had to prevent a scandal would be to hide away in their suite until her aunt and uncle arrived, which could be longer than a few weeks if her uncle had any business delays.
Faced with that, she nodded in acquiescence. What choice did she have?
“Wonderful. I shall share a few bits of advice with you—just in case you cross paths with a prickly person who asks too many questions,” Elizabeth said.
This would not be the adventure of a lifetime after all; instead, it would be a nightmare. Ashlyn would have to be careful to keep her true identity a secret until Elizabeth’s parents arrived and she could tell them everything.
If only Aunt Beatrice were there. Elizabeth’s mother had initially planned to voyage with them when Elizabeth’s father had said he would have to depart at a later date due to various business concerns, but Elizabeth had convinced her that sheand Ashlyn would be perfectly safe on the ship with only their maids, which would add to their great adventure, making the trip that much more memorable. And it would test their mettle to better prepare them for their future marriages. She’d enlisted her father’s help in persuading her mother, who’d reluctantly agreed. If only Aunt Beatrice hadn’t stayed behind. It was as though Elizabeth had anticipated some sort of excitement away from her mother’s watchful eye.
“You can still enjoy Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s house party,” Elizabeth said.
“Yes—no! She is expecting an American heiress. I am the daughter of a Connecticut physician. Your mother is Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s friend,” Ashlyn protested.
“Who cares? She’s never met me.” No one could stand up to Elizabeth’s outrageous plans—no matter what Ashlyn said, it was met with accusations of being disloyal and not wanting her cousin to be happy.
“When are you leaving…with Matteo?” Ashlyn asked, deciding the next best thing was to glean as much information as she could. Uncle William would be furious, and she’d be expected to know something about the man.“You’re the levelheaded one, Ashlyn,”he was fond of saying.“Elizabeth makes emotional decisions—and they are not always the best.”
He was indeed correct about that. Matteo Russo—ifthat was his real name—had had access to many young debutantes as an artist, but none without their parents’ supervision. And he had used flattery and flirtation with Elizabeth during her sitting. He had latched on to an American heiress and clearly done everything in his power to make the connection permanent. Little did he realize that Elizabeth’s father would not approve of the marriage—if there was one—and would likely have it annulled, if Matteo had lied about anything. Ashlyn’s uncle was a powerful man and had resources worldwide. Uncle Williamwould have to be convinced of Matteo’s true intentions—something that Ashlyn questioned. There was no doubt that Matteo was a talented artist, but was he also a talented liar?
There was nothing she could do now but hope that Elizabeth would come to her senses, or that her aunt and uncle would arrive sooner.
“We leave tomorrow—the day before you leave for Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s house party. The party should be lots of fun for you. I can take Alice, if you’re concerned that Rose is too young and inexperienced to attend me,” Elizabeth said.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll keep Alice with me,” Ashlyn said. She’d been fortunate enough to have Alice as her maid since girlhood. “Rose is your maid. You will need her. Besides, it will be better to have her with you under the circumstances.”
“I’m perfectly safe with Matteo, if that’s what you’re implying,” Elizabeth retorted.
“In any case, I don’t need two maids,” Ashlyn said.
“Very well, I will take Rose. I’m sure she’ll love the adventure.”
