The Switch (4 page)

"I was unable to obtain a pistol," Charlie began apologetically.

"Good," Beth said abruptly. When Charlie blinked in surprise, she shrugged. "I did not really wish to run out on Lord Radcliffe. Besides, it has occurred to me that London may be the better destination for us just now after all. Think on it. How much better would it be to arrive at Ralphy's with actual funds rather than just jewels? And with Radcliffe's assistance, we are sure to get a fair price for Mother's jewels. Later we can make our way to Ralphy's… if we must."

Charlie's gaze narrowed at that. "What mean you by 'if we must'?"

"Well…" She pursed her lips slightly. "It does occur to me that we might like a coming out."

"Beth, we could not possibly!" Charlie gasped in dismay.

"Why not?"

"What do you mean, why not? The answer is obvious. The moment Uncle Henry heard of our appearance in London, he would—"

"Why must he hear?"

"How could he not?" Charlie snapped impatiently.

"He would not hear if we did not give our true names," Beth pointed out simply.

Charlie rolled her eyes at that. "Oh, aye. I am sure that fake names would do the trick. Just exactly how many twins do you think there are in England, Beth? And how many of them do you believe are our age and likely to have a coming out this year? And how many have brown hair and midnight eyes?"

"Why must we tell them we are twins?"

"You do not think they would notice?" Charlie asked dryly.

"Nay. I do not… Charles."

Charlie stiffened at that, comprehension dawning over her. It was followed quickly by a pain that she hid by turning away. "I see. You would like me to continue this charade so that you might have a coming out," she murmured unhappily.

"Charlie," Beth whispered, reaching to touch her arm, but her twin jerked away.

" 'Tis all right."

"Nay. You misunderstood. I thought for us both to find a husband."

Charlie gave a harsh laugh at that. " 'Twould be hard for me to attract a husband as a man, sister."

"Not if we took turns at being one." When Charlie stared at her blankly, Beth explained, "We could switch back and forth. One night you be the brother and I will be the sister, and the next we'll switch. That way we can encourage whomsoever we choose. We can eventually tell the truth when we are sure of the men in question."

Charlie stilled at that and faced her. "You would take turns at being a boy?"

Beth nodded solemnly, her lips quirking slightly after a moment to ruin the effect. "Truly, it does seem that you get to have more fun as a boy, Charlie."

"Fun?" Her eyebrows shot up at that.

"Aye. Well, just look. Yesterday Lord Radcliffe took you shooting. Then last night, you got to stay up all night
drinking until you passed out drunk."

"Passed out drunk?" Charlie stared at her sister, horrified.

"Aye. The innkeeper's wife told me all about it. Her husband told her that you drank near a gallon of his grog, then passed out like a fish. Lord Radcliffe had to carry you to bed."

"Oh, no." Charlie sank on to the side of the bed with dismay.

Beth watched her curiously for a moment, then commented, "You do not appear to be suffering for it today, though, do you?"

Charlie blinked at her words, then glanced at her with surprise. "Nay, I do not. I feel right as rain this morning."

"Hmm. Uncle Henry always complained of a pounding head the morning after overindulging."

"Aye," Charlie agreed with a grimace. The man had been bad enough to live with at the best of times, but he had been impossible while suffering a hangover. "Father never suffered the morning after, though, did he?"

"Nay." Beth smiled brightly. "I do so want to try getting drunk."

"Beth," she chastised with more amusement than true reproach.

"Well, and why not? You always have all the fun." Beth said the words teasingly, then sighed suddenly and admitted. "I do grow tired of being the sensible one at times, you know."

Charlie started to protest at that, then recalled her annoyance of the other night when Beth had naturally expected her to come up with a plan that would solve all their problems. Those had been their natural roles. Charlie had always come up with one hare-brained scheme after another, and Beth, with her sensible nature, had approved or disapproved. Should Beth disapprove, Charlie would scrap a plan. Should she approve, they had always carried it through. Charlie realized now that she had depended as much on
Beth's sensibility as Beth had depended on her risk-taking and scheming. This was a nice change. "Everyone must try on a new pair of slippers once in a while," she murmured.

Beth blinked at that. "What?"

"Do you not recall the story that Mother told us when we were little? About the princess who had a lovely soft pair of slippers? Her cousin came to visit her one day with a pair of bright red hard shoes with shiny silver buckles. They were obviously too small for the princess. Still, she insisted on trying them out and wore them until her feet were blistered before giving them up to return gratefully to her lovely soft slippers. Mother said the moral of the story was that everyone must try on a new pair of shoes once in a while, if only to find that they prefer their own slippers in the end. I wonder if this is not exactly what she meant."

Beth smiled. "Mother was very clever, was she not?"

"Aye. So was Father." Charlie sighed. "I miss them both very much."

Sinking onto the bed beside her, Beth slipped her hand into hers and squeezed gently. "So do I."

They were silent for a moment, then Charlie stood abruptly. "Well. Then we shall go to London, turn our jewels into money, buy a new wardrobe, and find ourselves a couple of husbands." Smiling, she glanced at her sister. "My goodness, Beth. I do believe you have come up with your first hare-brained scheme. Think you it will work?"

Beth shrugged. "It cannot hurt to try. We can always flee to Ralphy if it does not."

"Hmm." Charlie nodded, then smiled. " 'Tis almost too perfect. Radcliffe offered to keep us and introduce us as cousins last night."

"Did he?" Beth's eyes widened in surprise. 'That was nice."

"Aye."

"Do you think we should tell him that we are both girls?" Beth asked, looking worried.

"Not if you want to do any of those 'fun things' a man gets to do."

Beth nodded solemnly. "Then we must keep it a secret."

"So when did you wish to make this switch?Now?"

Beth hesitated, then shook her head and murmured, "Mayhap when we reach London."

Charlie's eyes lit up with amusement at that. "Afraid to share a bed with Lord Radcliffe? He is hardly likely to pounce upon you as a boy."

She smiled slightly at that, but shrugged. "Still, I am content to wait."

"As you wish, Beth."

The opening of the door brought them both around to peer at Radcliffe as he glared in at them. "What is taking you two so long? Come, we must eat and be on our way."

"Aye, my lord." Charlie smiled at him widely, then bent to retrieve one of their bags from beside the bed. Beth moved to take the other, but Radcliffe was there before her.

"I shall take that, child. Do not trouble yourself. 'Tis quite heavy. Come along, downstairs we go.
The sooner you both breakfast, the sooner we can leave. Tomorrow you shall enjoy the comfort of a carriage ride into the city."

"It sounds lovely," Beth murmured on the way out the door, and Charlie smiled at her gentle words. Aye, it would be lovely to enjoy the comfort of a carriage after the days they had spent plodding along astride hard saddles, the dust kicking up in their faces. It would be heaven.

Carriages were the invention of the devil.

Charlie came to that conclusion within the first hour of the ride. She had never been far from home. Her parents had not been fond of travel and had preferred to spend their time at home with their daughters. Her parents had therefore only owned two carriages. The one they had been riding in the night they died had been destroyed in the accident that killed them. Uncle Henry had sold the other in this last year as the
family's money had dwindled. Charlie was grateful for the sale of the carriage now, as they hit another rut in the road and she was nearly bounced to the floor. She would never own one of these infernal inventions.

Grabbing at the seat, she ground her teeth together and prayed they did not have much farther to go before London. They had been traveling for what seemed like days, and she was positive should they not reach the city soon, she was in dire peril of vomiting all over their esteemed host. She could not stand the airless little box the three of them were crammed into much longer.

Catching Beth's concerned expression, Charlie forced a reassuring smile for her sister's benefit, then closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself anywhere but inside this hard, airless hack, bumping and jostling along the rutted road. Surely no one got into one of these conveyances willingly, she thought desperately, opening her eyes again and grabbing frantically for the door handle.

Seeing her intent, Beth cried out in warning, drawing Lord Radcliffe's attention. Glimpsing the green tinge in Charlie's face and the way she was scrabbling at the door, Radcliffe shouted a warning to the driver, relieved when the carriage halted. Charlie got the door open and stumbled out of the cab. She knelt in the grass to the side of the carriage and tossed her breakfast out on the roadside. Radcliffe appeared behind her.

"Oh, my."

Glancing around at that dismayed gasp, Charlie saw Radcliffe take Beth's arm and urge her back toward the carriage, but her sister was having none of that. Opening the small bag she always carried dangling from her wrist, Beth slid out a small vial and knelt beside her. "Here, Charlie, take this. 'Twill settle your stomach."

Charlie took one look at the tonic her sister held out toward her, and turned to retch some more. Rather than be discouraged, Beth waited patiently for the course of vomiting to end, then pressed the vial on her sister again. This time, Charlie accepted the vial and even managed to swallow some of the concoction. She then got shakily to her feet and stumbled back to lean weakly against the carriage.

Charlie heard Radcliffe clear his throat. The man had turned away from the roadside and stood with his hands clasped behind his back as he waited for Charlie to regain herself. After a short time, he glanced at her questioningly. "Feeling better? Shall we get back in the carriage now?"

Charlie closed her eyes at that prospect, groaned, then pushed herself away from the carriage to kneel in the grass again. Beth was immediately beside her, murmuring soothingly as she held her sister's trembling shoulders as she was sick.

Radcliffe watched the brother and sister from beside the carriage and sighed. Things had not been going very well for the last two days. He had been suffering horribly from a hangover when he had finally managed to get the brother and sister to breakfast and then to depart the day before. Much to his disgust, despite the amount the boy had imbibed, Charles had not seemed to suffer the same problem. He had been grossly cheerful throughout yesterday's ride, smiling and happily chatting away to his sister, while Radcliffe had felt as if his head were splitting in half. He had been more than grateful when they had arrived at the inn at which they'd spent last night.

Radcliffe had immediately hired a messenger from the nearby village to ride into London and fetch back his carriage. He had then joined the twosome for supper before retiring early to bed to nurse his head, only to awaken in the middle of the night to find the lad once again wrapped around him like a second skin. Unfortunately, he had also found, much to his dismay, that he'd been quite enjoying the experience.

Disentangling himself, Raclcliffe had slipped from the bed and spent the rest of the night sitting in a chair, gazing fretfully into the fire. The experience had only convinced him more than ever that he must visit a brothel the moment he arrived in London.

With dawn had come the arrival of his carriage. Unfortunately, the driver had hit a nit in the dark on his hurried journey and had only just managed to make it to the inn ere the front wheel had split. After making arrangements for it to be fixed and follow them to the city, Radcliffe had gone to the nearby village to hire a carriage. This small, rickety old trap had been all he had been able to come up with. Riding in it was tantamount to torture. He was sure his
very teeth had been shaken loose after the first hour. Should he open his mouth, every tooth housed within was likely to tumble right out.

Now he had a sick boy to contend with. Worse yet, the boy's violent reaction to the ride was raising a rather similar response within himself. Radcliffe was positive should he stand there another moment, he would be kneeling in the giass losing his own breakfast. Cursing abruptly, he whirled away and paced off along the road in search of fresh air.

"There, there," Beth cooed, smoothing her hand over her sister's back soothingly as Radcliffe marched away.

Charlie groaned as the last of her stomach's contents left her body, then collapsed backward away from the mess to lie on the ground miserably. After a moment, she opened her eyes to peer solemnly at her sister. "I am dying," she announced stoically.

Beth smiled faintly at the dramatic announcement and shook her head. "Nay, love. 'Tis merely the traveling sickness."

"Traveling sickness?" Charlie frowned. "What the devil
is
that?"

" 'Tis what Mother called it. Father had it too. He could not bear to ride in an enclosed conveyance. Why do you think they did not care to travel?"

Charlie's eyes widened, then narrowed on her sister. "Why are you not ill then?"

Beth shrugged. "I suppose I inherited mother's more stalwart constitution."

"We are twins, Beth. Identical in every way, no?"

"Apparently not so identical as all that." Sighing, Charlie sat up slowly to glare at the carriage. " 'Tis that damned contraption. What a hellish invention it is."

"Aye. It is most uncomfortable," Beth murmured on a sigh, then glanced at her once more. "Do you think you could keep down the potion now?"

Charlie nodded and drank from the vial Beth lifted to her lips. Hoping the liquid would settle in her stomach, she did not rise then but remained where she sat, her gaze moving along the empty lane. "Where has Radcliffe got to?"

Beth shrugged mildly. "I suspect he has gone to find his own little patch along the road. He was looking rather green himself."

Surprised pleasure flooded Charlie at that. "Really?"

"You need not look so pleased at the prospect,"

Beth chastised dryly and Charlie grimaced.

"And why should I not? The man has been a perfect beast to me for the past two days. Have yon not noticed?"

"Aye, I have. I was wondering what it is you have done to the poor man to cause such irritation."

"Done to him? Why, I have done nothing," Charlie denied in surprise, but Beth's doubt showed and she frowned. "I have done nothing, I tell you. He woke up like that the morning after
drinking with the innkeeper. I thought mayhap he reacts to drink like Uncle Henry does."

Beth considered that briefly. "That would explain his moodiness yesterday. But what of today?"

Charlie shrugged with a distinct lack of interest. "Mayhap his hangovers last two or three days."

"Hmm. He…" Beth began, pausing as a carriage came around the bend and rolled toward them. It came to a stop behind their own carriage and an elderly woman, a young girl, and a man some few years younger than Radcliffe himself stared at them curiously from inside for a moment before the door opened and the man got calmly out.

A sudden indrawn breath from Beth drew Charlie's gaze. Her sister's eyes had become wide and rather dazed. Eyebrows rising, Charlie got to her feet, offered a hand to her sister to help her rise, then turned to face the man now pausing before them.

"Is there some way I may be of service?" the stranger asked, offering Beth a charming smile.

Despite the fact that the question was addressed to Beth, Charlie was the one to answer. Her sister did not seem capable of responding just then. She was gazing at the man rather
dreamily and Charlie could not for a minute understand why. He was attractive enough, she supposed, frowning at his sandy brown hair and strong features. Her gaze
dropped to take in his figure. Long and lean. Not bad, but not her sort. "Kind of you to offer, but other than switching carriages with us, there is nothing you can do."

When the man blinked at that rather blankly and managed to tear his eyes away from her sister to toss a perplexed glance her way, Charlie grimaced and explained. "We are traveling with… our cousin," she said, stumbling over the words. "Unfortunately, his carriage broke down and we were forced to rent this conveyance to make the remainder of the journey."

The man peered dubiously at the rattletrap waiting at the side of the road, then took a step forward to glance inside, his eyebrows rising as he turned back. "Did your cousin remain behind with his carriage?"

"What? Oh. Nay. He wandered off up the road a ways for a breath of fresh air. He shall return directly, no doubt."

"Ah." He nodded solemnly, his eyes returning to Beth once again. He seemed to hesitate. Just as he would have opened his mouth to speak, the younger of the two women, a girl really, came stumbling out of the carriage and hurried forward to clutch at his arm.

"Goodness, Tomas, we must offer to share our carriage with them. They cannot rattle into town in that. It must be most uncomfortable. Do offer a lift to them, Tomas. Do." She ended her breathless little plea with a brilliant smile directed straight at Charlie. When she followed that up with a fluttering of the eyelashes that could only be called
coquettish, Charlie shifted uncomfortably and suddenly found great interest in her shoes. The chit was flirting with her for gosh sakes. Amazing!

"Would you…" Tomas began, and Beth took an eager step forward.

"Oh, that would be lovely."

Charlie grimaced at the breathlessness in her sister's voice and glanced up to see her and Tomas grinning widely at each other like a couple of star-struck fools. A sudden clamp of fingers around her
arm then drew Charlie's attention to the young girl who was suddenly pressed close to her side, smiling up at her from beneath long eyelashes.

"Shall we walk up the road a ways and find your cousin?"

There was a definite predatory look in those eyes, Charlie decided grimly, raising her hand immediately to disengage the claws clutching at her. "I would not think to trouble you so. I shall fetch him back myself."

"That will not be necessary."

They all turned as the man in question made his return known.

"Radcliffe!" Tomas's surprise was obvious. "I did not realize that you were this pair's cousin." Stepping forward, he held his hand out in greeting. Radcliffe accepted that hand and nodded pleasantly back.

"Mowbray. Good to see you."

"Aye. We came across your conveyance and stopped to see if aught was wrong. Your cousins explained that your carriage had broken down and you were forced to rent this rattletrap." He gestured toward the carriage in question. "We offered to share our carriage with you for the remainder of the trip, if that is acceptable?"

Radcliffe hesitated. His gaze slid to Charles, then to the girl who was even now slipping her hand persistently back onto the lad's arm. Noting Charles's annoyance and the way he seemed to be trying to tell him by his expression that the ride should be refused, he nodded solemnly. "That would be most appreciated," he answered, deciding it would be good for the boy to enjoy a bit of female attention. Whether he liked it or not.

                                       
***

"And so Maman had a whole new wardrobe made for my coming out. She thinks I should be engaged in no time. What do you think, Charles?"

Charlie blinked at the tug at her arm and glanced at the girl rather blankly. Clarissa Mowbray was a slender, sweet-faced, and sandy-haired girl, but she had not stopped babbling since Radcliffe had accepted her brother's offer of a ride. She had rattled on about sundry unimportant trivial things all throughout the transfer of luggage from the rented conveyance to the Mowbray carriage, pausing only long enough to make the seating arrangements. She had managed so that she was crowded onto the one bench seat between Charlie and Radcliffe, while her brother was seated between Beth and the older woman on the other side.

The older woman, as it turned out, was Lady Gladys Mowbray, the widowed mother of Tomas and Clarissa.
The woman was hard of hearing, which had become obvious as Clarissa had shouted the introductions. It also explained why she did not rein in her daughter's chatter. Charlie was just miserable enough at that point to decide that Lady Mowbray had most likely gone deaf in defense against the girl's prattle. Charlie normally would have been ashamed of such catty thoughts, but she was finding it hard enough to breathe with all of them crammed into that small space, without the silly chit hogging all the air inside the stifling carriage to propel her witless gibberish. Charlie was positive that she was going to faint from lack of oxygen.

"I am sure he agrees with your mother's prediction," Beth murmured now, glaring at her sister for not answering immediately. "Is that not right, brother?"

"Oh, aye. No doubt," Charlie muttered dryly, glaring out the window.

"I do not recall ever having heard that you had cousins."

There was a brief electric silence at Lady Mowbray's words. The woman had been silent as a stone for the past several hours of the journey, and Charlie would not have minded had she remained so. The woman's comment sent a shock of fear running down her neck. Turning sharply, she glanced at Radcliffe to see how he would respond to the question. Much to her relief, he looked completely unruffled and even managed a small smile and shrug.