Page 9 of The Duke's Bride in Disguise
"Kilbride and I have one season to decide if we are suited to each other," Emily said in a rush, "But, if we were to swap places, I know that you could convince him that we are most unsuited."
"And why is that?" Ava retorted, offended that her sister thought her capable of repelling a duke without so much as trying.
"Because you have the advantage of distance," Emily replied with a smile, "I am too afraid of upsetting my poor father to rebel against his wishes—but that fear won't hold you back. And, besides, wouldn't it be fun to swap lives for a few weeks? There's no better way to get to know each other, than to walk a few miles in each other's shoes."
Ava looked from her sturdy, practical boots, which just that morning had been covered in dung, to Emily's kidskin half-boots, which were laced at the front and trimmed with ribbon. They were highly impractical for walking, but then, Ava supposed that Emily did not have to walk many places, as she probably had a carriage and five at her disposal.
What would it be like to live as Emily lived, even if only for a few weeks? Ava imagined waking up at noon on a plush, feather mattress, taking hot-chocolate in bed, and generally living a life of opulent, lazy luxury.
"I'll do it," she said, surprising herself and Mary, who had clearly thought she had more sense.
"Lord bless us and save us," the Irish woman said as she glanced from one twin to the other, "And what will you do, my Lady, whilst your sister is pretending to be you?"
"Why I'll take her new position as a governess in..."
"Kent," Ava helpfully supplied, "For the Duke of Hemsworth."
Was it her imagination, or did Emily flinch slightly at the name? The dubious expression had crossed her twin's face for just a second, but Ava was certain that Emily knew her new employer.
"Do you know him?" she queried, biting her lip with worry.
"Only by reputation," Emily said faintly, her face a little pale. "Still, what fun to work and earn my own keep!"
Ava exchanged a knowing look with Mary; there was nothing fun or exciting about working when one had done it for their whole life. Still, she did not want to throw a wet blanket on her sister's excitement, and perhaps the novelty of working for her keep might be enough to entertain her for a few weeks.
"But," Mary interrupted her mistress's excited chatter, "When will you swap back? You can't pretend to be each other forever."
"At the month's end," Emily said firmly, giving Ava's hand a squeeze, "You will come and fetch me from—"
"Kent," Ava supplied again, a little worried that Emily would stumble at the first hurdle and get lost on her way.
"Yes, Kent," Emily continued with a laugh, "And we shall return and tell Papa that we have found each other and can no longer stand the thought of being separated. He'll probably send us off to one of his estates down the country to avoid any scandal. Oh! Then we shall be able to spend all our days together!"
It sounded, to Ava's ears at least, rather an impractical plan. Who knew how Lord Fairfax would react when confronted with the lowly-born Ava? Still, the lure of living Emily's glamorous life—if only for a month—was too great to ignore. So, quashing all her doubts, Ava nodded her head in agreement.
"Sounds smashing," she said enthusiastically.
"It sounds like you both need your heads smashed together," Mary argued, "Your father will know in a second that she's not you, my Lady."
"But how could he guess the truth?" Emily argued, "For, as far as we know, he is not aware that Ava exists. He will simply think I am out of sorts. We are identical in every way, Mary, he will never guess, nor even think to guess."
"Aye," the lady's maid gave a resigned sigh, "Indeed, you're identical down to the last freckle—apart from your hands."
All three pairs of eyes turned to look with dismay at Ava's cracked, dry hands, which were red from being thrust into soapy water thrice a day. Emily's hands, Ava noted, were clad in a pair of elbow-length, kidskin gloves, which matched her boots. A dozen gleaming buttons ran the length of them, and Ava idly wondered how she managed to remove them, until she realised—with a jolt—that it was Mary, not Emily, who was responsible for their removal.
I hope she will manage to dress herself in Kent, Ava thought with alarm. The plan, such as it was, seemed to already be unravelling before her very eyes.
"What if Lady Georgiana recognises me?" Ava questioned, as she thought of another obstacle in her path, "She was here only this afternoon."
"No need to worry about that, my love," Mary said tartly, "They look right through you, the gentry do. You're like the wallpaper to them."
"I don't look through anyone," Emily protested.
"No," the lady's maid bestowed a placating smile upon her mistress, "But then you've always been rather different, my Lady."
"Mad as a box of frogs, she once called me," Emily confessed to her twin with a smile, "Isn't that such a fun expression?"
Ava was apt to think that there was some truth in Mary's description of her sister; Lady Emily was quite unlike any of the ladies of thetonthat she had encountered—not that she had encountered many. Emily's face was open, her manner friendly, and her lack of self-awareness endearing.
