Page 38 of The Duke's Bride in Disguise
During her night-time rounds, Matron Hannigan checked on the twins and found one of them had gone to our Lord.
Ava's hand dropped in shock, the page flittering from her fingers to the floor.
"It says that one of us died," she cried, turning to Mary, as though the lady's maid held the answers to all the questions she had. "How can that be?"
"I don't know, my love," Mary had replied sadly, "Perhaps it was a mix up? Those places were filled with babies, perhaps someone confused the two of you?"
"Perhaps," Ava replied vaguely, as she tried to understand just how she and Emily had come to be separated. Her musings were interrupted by the sound of the gong ringing through the house, signalling that supper was soon to be served.
"We'd best get you dressed," Mary said, jumping quickly into action. In less than half an hour, Mary had Ava washed, dressed and perfectly presentable.
"You just need to smile," Mary had said, affectionately stroking her cheek, "And no one will be any the wiser."
Was it possible that no one would notice the inner tumult affecting Ava? Given that Lord Fairfax had not even blinked when a different—albeit identical—person had been presented to him as his daughter, Ava highly doubted it. Lord Fairfax was many things, but observant was not one of them.
"There you are," Lord Fairfax called, as Ava descended the staircase, "I've been waiting for you; it's beef tonight and you know that's my favourite."
"Sorry, Papa," Ava gave an apologetic smile and allowed Lord Fairfax to take her arm and guide her into the dining room.
Inside the stately dining room, at the centre of which was a large table, big enough to accommodate two dozen guests, sat Theo and Beatrice, patiently awaiting their arrival.
"I thought Papa was going to have to fetch a Bow Street Runner to find you," Theo said cheerfully, as Ava took her seat at the table. Though the table was large, the family sat together at one end of it. Ava thought vaguely of her Aunt, Lady Lucan, who—according to Mary—sat at one end of the dining table, whilst her husband sat at the other. Apparently, if they wished to converse, they sent a footman scurrying back and forth between them.
"Never mind," Lord Fairfax interjected, "She's here now, so we can begin."
The marquess gave the footman closest to him a nod, and, within seconds, supper was being brought out. Ava stared down at her plate of rare beef in dismay, trying not to wretch as it oozed red-tinged juices.
"Rare, just the way you like it," Lord Fairfax said, smiling across at her.
Did Emily really enjoy rare beef, Ava wondered with dismay; this particular cut looked so rare that it was almost mooing up at her from the plate. Feeling rather nauseous, Ava delicately placed her fork down, hoping that no one would notice.
Luckily, Theo—the eldest of Emily's brothers—was waxing lyrical about matters agricultural; as the heir to the title, Theo had assumed responsibility for the running of Lord Fairfax's many estates.
"The work on the drainage should be completed by the end of the summer," Theo said, before casting an affectionate glance at Beatrice, "Which is lucky, because we'll be kept rather busy after that."
"Oh?" Lord Fairfax looked up from his beef, at his son's pointed tone.
"Beatrice is with child," Theo said, his face split into wide, excited smile.
"That's wonderful!"
Lord Fairfax smiled proudly at his son, and Ava echoed his sentiments, feeling, not for the first time, a little bit guilty. This was news that should be shared with family, she thought, not an interloper. The conversation turned then from estate matters, to the impending arrival of the baby. Beatrice, who was still as slim as a reed, happily stroked her stomach as they discussed names—Frederick for a boy, Adeline for a girl, which rendered Lord Fairfax rather misty eyed—nursery maids, christening gowns, the merits of Eton versus Harrow, and whether they should employ a French governess so that the child would grow up fluent.
Gracious. Ava had not known that some people cared so much about their children, that they had its life mapped out before it had even entered the world. It was, for a poor orphan, a rather astounding conversation to listen to. The child, Emily's niece, was already so loved, that Ava was quite overcome with emotion.
"Oh, my dear," Lord Fairfax leaned over and gave her hand an affectionate pat, "Don't cry, it's good news. I know you are thinking that your poor Mama would have been overjoyed to hear it, but we must not cry."
The table fell silent, as each of them remembered the late marchioness. She had died, Ava was told, just two years ago, after a particularly bad bout of influenza. Mary had warned her not to mention her too often around Lord Fairfax, for he was liable to burst into tears at the mention of her name, but this evening, he seemed quite content to recall his late wife.
"I remember the night that you were born," Lord Fairfax told his son, "You were born during the worst storm England had seen in over a hundred years—well, that is until you grew old enough to make trouble! Your mother often said that we should have called you Zeus."
"Or Thor," Ava added mildly, "He was the Norse God of thunder and lightning—it's rather more masculine than Zeus, don't you think?"
"Goodness," Lord Fairfax turned to look at Ava, "A secret passion for Shakespeare, and now a hidden knowledge of mythology. Who are you, and what have you done with my daughter?"
Though he was jesting, Ava felt her heart contract momentarily with fear. It was only when Theo laughed, that she allowed herself to relax. All this subterfuge was rather tiring, Ava thought, as her heartbeat resumed its normal pace. Goodness knew how spies and the like managed it!
"Do you remember when I was born, Papa?" she ventured, hoping that Lord Fairfax might shed some light on the confusing page, hidden above in her bedroom.
