Unveiled (13 page)

“Ella, I demand that you stop this nonsense at once!” Grace slammed down her carpetbag with a thud and put her hands on her hips, prepared to do battle. A woman of fifty years, she wore the perpetually worried expression of one whose life was always in someone else’s control. Yet she had been pretty once, as evidenced by the classic lines of her profile, the finely cut nose, the soft mouth. She was not at all happy about what was transpiring, and didn’t bother to hide it.

“Come in, Grace. You’re always in an uproar about something. It’s bad for your bowels. Hello, George,” Ella said sweetly, hiding a yawn behind a lace-covered hand. An elderly man pressed a kiss to Ella’s cheek, then joined the others, apparently determined to stay clear of this fight.

Grace’s color deepened and she faced Ella, obviously furious. “Forgive me if I seem out of line, but it is my understanding that you are marrying off my daughter, Fan Pemberton, to Christopher Scott! My daughter, when everyone knows that Fan—”

“Do not even attempt to say it.” Ella’s expression lost its perpetual sweetness and she glared at her sister-in-law with no apparent love lost.

“Ella, I must speak with you. Alone,” Grace said in an impervious tone, ignoring the protests around her. She closed the door to the parlor, shutting out the rest of the family, then turned to her sister-in-law. “I know, dear, how much you’ve wanted Frances to return,” Grace continued in a reasoning tone that one would use with a cranky child. “We’ve all wanted that. But it just isn’t going to happen. Fan is living with a disreputable gambler. She has made her bed and now she must lie in it. No one knows that better than Fan. She will never return, not now, not ever.”

“You are wrong,” Ella said determinedly, her features becoming sharper and more emphatic. Gone was the sweet senile woman that the Pembertons all took for granted. No, Fan was being threatened, and like a tigress, Ella was determined to protect the girl she loved as a daughter. “Fan has returned, and is going to be wed.” She studied Grace for a moment, then smiled coldly. “Why don’t you just admit it? You don’t want Frances back. You know a good share of my money is promised to her, money that would be yours if Fan chose not to return. None of you want her back.”

“How dare you! How could you suggest such a thing? As if I, her mother, wouldn’t want my own daughter?”

“Fan’s return is the last thing you want,” Ella said wearily, as if tiring of the conversation. “You never liked her, not even when she was a little child. Fan was so lively, so pretty, so full of life and energy. You couldn’t stand having the limelight taken away from you, even for a moment.”

Grace’s mouth thinned and she struggled to maintain control. “My relationship with my daughter is none of your concern,” she said evenly. “But there is some truth in what you say. I never did like Fan, but not for the reasons you assume. Fan is a liar, a self-centered fraud, and a manipulator. She uses people the way you would use an old dishrag. But once you were no longer of any purpose, she had no compunction about tossing you aside. May God forgive her wherever she is now.”

“Enough of this talk,” Ella said firmly. “I’ve summoned Fan. You will soon see for yourself.”

Grace nodded. “Good. Everyone wants to see her. None of the Pembertons can believe that you’ve done this, that you’ve allowed a perfect stranger to stand in my daughter’s place as if she was one of us. We won’t allow it, Ella. Not now or ever.”

“We’ll see about that,” Ella said firmly, losing none of her resolution. She opened the doors to the parlor as Katie descended the stairs. “Fan, dear, please come in. I’m sure you remember everyone.”

Katie stood outside the door of the parlor, nervously clutching a lace handkerchief. Clad in a yellow silk dress, her black hair pulled back and a few discreet curls escaping, she looked lovely, and every inch a lady. Ignoring the gasps around her, she entered the room with a grace and elegance that a few months ago would have been impossible. But in so many ways, she had learned to be Fan Pemberton, and she drew on that knowledge now.

The room was so quiet that she could hear the rustle of a mouse. They were all there, every last Pemberton from the oldest uncle to the tiniest newborn baby held in his mother’s arms. Katie stared back at the sea of faces, seeing the disbelief and shock on all of them. It was as if she were a ghost, the ghost of Fan’s past.

“My God,” a male voice said in astonishment. “It is Fan!”

Time stood still as an older woman approached, her fingers pressed to her lips. There was a fear in her eyes as she lifted Katie’s face, then she sighed with relief.

“You are not Fan. I knew it! I knew it couldn’t be. Who are you? Who do you think you are, masquerading as my daughter?” She stared at Katie coldly in disbelief and outrage.

“Grace, if you dare slander this girl one more time, I will have you thrown from my house,” Ella said. “If you don’t wish to acknowledge your daughter, that’s your business. But you won’t do it under my roof. That is Fan, and anyone who says otherwise can answer to me.”

Chaos broke out as everyone began talking at once. Katie stood in the center of the room like a bewildered child, examined from all sides by the eager throng. When an elderly man approached her sympathetically and took her hand, she smiled at him gratefully.

“Now, now. You’re all upsetting the poor girl. I would like to have a word alone with Miss Pemberton. Do you mind?”

Ella and Grace glanced at each other, then Ella shrugged. “No, of course not. But don’t keep her too long. Fan and I have plans to make.”

“George, you can’t mean to accept this…this harlot, acting as Fan! Frances herself is bad enough, disgracing us all, but this…this…I won’t allow it!”

“I just want to speak with this young woman. Is there anything wrong with that?” Grace could raise no other objection and helplessly watched as her brother led Katie out of the room and into the adjoining sitting room. Closing the doors behind them, he let out a deep breath before turning to Katie.

“I am George Atwater, Grace’s brother and a Pemberton by marriage,” the man said with a twinkle in his eye. “And what I’d like to know, young lady, is who you are and what you’re up to.”

Katie stared at the man before her, wondering what in the world she would do now. George Atwater calmly poured himself a drink, then took a seat and sipped the whiskey, his eyes never leaving hers. He was watching.

And waiting.

Shrugging, Katie decided that she couldn’t bluff her way out of this one, and that the truth was her best defense. They would find out anyway. Taking a deep breath, she spilled forth the facts.

“So you were looking to hire on as a ladies’ maid. Well, I have to admit you accomplished that. Ella has been very happy since you appeared. And given the resemblance, I can see how this all happened.” George swallowed the entire contents of his glass, then gazed at the pretty young woman before him. “The question is, what do we do about it now?”

“I don’t know,” Katie confessed miserably. “I never meant for this to go so far. And now—”

“Now we have a real problem to consider.” George stood up and paced the room, leaving Katie to stand in the center. “Grace received a letter from Eunice Scott. She is delighted with the prospect of your wedding. You see, she has wanted Christopher to marry for years. He is the last male heir to the Scotts’ estate, and without children, the name would die. Yet it seemed any kind of commitment was the farthest thing from his mind. That is, until he met you.”

Katie glanced up and saw the puzzled expression on George Atwater’s face. “And when you tell them the truth—” her voice whispered.

George shrugged. “They won’t like it, Eunice especially. The Scotts are very influential in the city. They are one of Philadelphia’s first families, and have always been given the utmost respect. I don’t know what the repercussions would be. And Fan Pemberton cannot afford another scandal, no matter how it happened.” He looked at Katie and continued softly. “And I worry about Ella. Her grip on reality has never been strong. Learning the truth about you might just push her over the edge.”

Katie gasped. “I never wanted to hurt her! I really do care for her. I only went along with all this because it seemed to please her. I thought—”

“It wasn’t your fault. The whole situation is out of your control. I suppose we never should have let her come down here alone, to hire her own companion. But frankly Ella and Grace do not get along. And Ella is the matriarch of the family. No one can risk offending her. This seemed the best solution at the time.”

Katie stared at the elegant gentleman, aware of what he meant. Ella had become inconvenient, an embarrassment to them. Eileen had been right. They shuffled her off to the shore, glad to have her out from underfoot, not really concerned of what became of her. She, as Fan Pemberton, she realized in astonishment, might well be the only one who cared about Ella.

“So what will you do?” Katie whispered in dread.

George Atwater poured himself another drink. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

“Frances, will you take me up? I’m ready for my nap,” Ella Pemberton interrupted, seeming not at all unhappy to have done so. George Atwater opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it, obviously changing his mind.

“Of course.” Katie excused herself, took Ella’s hand, and led her up the stairs into the pretty bedroom. George watched them go, aware of the trust Ella placed in Katie, then sat back down with his drink.

Inside the bedroom, Katie closed the door and helped Ella undress, struggling with the laces and the corset that the older woman insisted she still wear. When the undergarments were removed, Katie pulled a fresh cotton nightgown over Ella’s body, then put her to bed.

Smiling, Ella closed her eyes, the stress gone from her expression. “You’re so good to me, Fan,” she whispered softly as Katie dimmed the lights. “Stay by my bed for a few minutes. You know I don’t like to be alone.”

Katie took the seat that she’d occupied almost every day since she’d come to this place and she softly brushed the white curls from Ella’s forehead. The older woman’s hair, which Katie had washed just that morning, glistened like spun sugar. She looked so pretty, so fragile, so…vulnerable.

“The family,” Ella began softly, her eyes closed. “Don’t let them disturb you, Fan. I’ve told them if they don’t accept you, they are no longer welcome here. Including your mother.”

Katie’s breath stopped and her hand lingered on Ella’s cheek. Guilt overwhelmed her. It had gotten so complicated so quickly. Once, she was certain she was doing right, being here and assuming Fan’s identity. But now—

“Aunt Ella,” Katie said quietly. “I have to tell you something.”

“No.” Ella smiled in her repose, her eyes still closed. “I know what you are going to say. Do not let them do this, Fan. Don’t be a party to their schemes. Don’t hurt me.”

“I’d do nothing to hurt you,” Katie said, surprised at the depth of her own feeling. “You know that.”

“Yes.” Ella sighed quietly. “Do you know what my life was like before you came back, Frances?” When Katie shook her head, Ella continued. “I sat at the window here, in this room, every day. I would go there after breakfast, and stay until sundown, the curtain moved exactly three inches from the window. Do you know what I was doing?”

“No.” Katie choked, immensely saddened by the picture Ella painted.

“I was waiting. Waiting for something to happen. Waiting for someone to come into my life, for some kind of happiness. I could see the ocean there. It was restless and beautiful, the waves crashing to the beach, then withdrawing to renew themselves once more. I watched those waves for hours, wondering why I was still alive. My family wants me dead, you know.”

“Don’t say that!” Katie said, appalled. “I’m sure they love you—”

“They care for nothing but the money,” Ella said tiredly, without emotion, as if the idea didn’t brother her at all. “They are tolerating me, waiting for the day when I draw my last breath and the executor reads the will. I live just to thwart them.”

Katie gasped, feeling her throat tighten. She hadn’t been in the Pembertons’ company for long, but she had the feeling that Ella was exactly right. For the first time she understood why Fan left, why someone so young would risk everything on a life with a disreputable gambler. But Fan must have felt a lot of the same things Ella was feeling, and had wanted to escape.

“So you mustn’t leave, Fan. You mustn’t let them influence you, and they will try. Since you’ve returned, it is as if Eileen opened the shades and let the sunshine in. I’m addled, so they say. And old, and incompetent. But I know what makes me happy.” Her eyelids opened and she stared at Katie, her smile vanishing. “Don’t let them take you away from me.”

“I won’t,” Katie found herself promising. “Not now, not ever.”

Ella nodded, then her smile returned and she sank down onto her pillows. Her breathing quieted, and within moments she was asleep.

Katie watched her, her throat tightening. My God, what kind of people were these, to treat one of their own in this manner? The Pembertons, for all their money and influence, knew nothing about Ella and didn’t care. They merely shuffled her off to this cottage, glad to have her out from underfoot. As horrible as it sounded, Katie knew that Ella was right. They were waiting for her to die.

A sob caught in her throat as she thought of her own family. For all their faults, they had stayed together, from her grandfather to her own little son. She couldn’t imagine any of them behaving in such a manner. Even when she was pregnant and bore Sean out of wedlock, her family hadn’t been happy, but they stood by her, often going without so that she could have an extra cup of milk or a warm pair of socks.