Page 3 of The Heiress in Disguise
“Just know that we’ll be here for you,” Antoine assured her. “You’re like family to us. My parents will always care for you, and so will I. You’re not alone. I know it might feel that way right now, but you’re not. And your parents will live on inside you.
Every time you look in a looking glass, you’ll see your mother’s face—more and more as you grow older and look more like her. And every time you laugh, you’ll remember your father’s wonderful sense of humor and how he could always make everyone around him smile.
Tears filled Angelique’s eyes.
She hadn’t cried since she’d heard the news, and it felt good to let the tears out now. It was a release. She buried her face in her hands and wept for everything she had lost.
Her parents were really gone. They were never coming back. From now on, this would be her life. Sharing the house that had once been a home, with the aunt and uncle she so struggled to get along with, and cousins she could hardly tolerate.
And as she cried, Antoine remained steadfastly by her side, loyal and unmoving, a harbor in the sea of her despair.
Chapter 1
Fourteen Years Later
Angelique struggled up the stairs, balancing a breakfast tray on each arm. This was her second trip—she had brought the first two trays on her first journey up the stairs—and the usual morning anxiety was beginning to set in.
It was always a struggle to make sure that everything would be warm when it was delivered to the proper person. Delivering five breakfasts all at once was an onerous task, and because Aunt Wilhelmina had dismissed so many of the staff in order to save money, there was no one available to help Angelique do it.
At least no one would complain if Grace’s food was a bit cold. It made Angelique feel sad to slight her youngest cousin like that—Angelique herself was the only person in the house who was treated with more disdain and disrespect than Grace, and she did feel as if the two of them ought to be allies.
If she’d had her choice, she would have delivered Grace’s breakfast first of all of them, to make sure it was the freshest. But the choice did not belong to her. Very few choices did, anymore.
It helped that Uncle Clive was away in London, as he so often was. At least no deliveries had to be made to him. She picked up one of the trays she’d placed on the table in the hall and made her way to Aunt Wilhelmina’s room.
Her aunt was sitting up in bed, waiting to be served. “You took your time,” she said crossly.
“I’m sorry,” Angelique said contritely. She wasn’t late at all, but there was nothing to be gained by arguing. Aunt Wilhelmina took pleasure in scolding Angelique and the happier her aunt was, the more peaceful Angelique’s life would be. It was just good sense to allow her to say what she liked and get away as quickly as she could.
“I ask very little of you, Ella,” Aunt Wilhelmina said, and Angelique flinched inwardly, as she always did, at the unwanted nickname. She knew her aunt had taken to calling herEllain order to make her sound plain and ordinary, like the servant Aunt Wilhelmina wanted her to be instead of the daughter of a marquess.
Aunt Wilhelmina liked to forget that Angelique’s father had had any importance in society at all. It infuriated Angelique, not because she objected to being treated like a servant, although she did, of course, but because it offended her to see her father’s sister reduce his memory to less than it should have been.
But if the past fourteen years had taught her anything, it was that there was no point in arguing. Quiet compliance was the safer and smoother choice, if what she desired was a peaceful life.
Angelique placed the breakfast tray on the bed beside her aunt. Aunt Wilhelmina examined the breakfast.
Angelique held her breath. If she was sent back to the kitchen to correct something, all the other meals would get cold. They would have to start over, and then everyone’s breakfast would be late. She would spend the morning being scolded by various members of her family.
But apparently Aunt Wilhelmina could find no fault with what she had been served. “We’ll be leaving for the city this afternoon,” she said. “You must help make preparations for your cousins, so they’ll be ready to go.”
“Why are we going to the city?” Angelique asked.
“Your uncle wishes to throw a masquerade ball with a friend of his, and we’ll be attending,” Aunt Wilhelmina said.
Angelique couldn’t help it—she felt a thrill of excitement. Of course she knew that she wouldn’t be permitted to attend the ball, as her aunt would never allow such a thing. But she would still be able to see it. The clever masks, the beautiful ball gowns in all the latest styles, the music, and the dancing—and it would be easy enough to steal away to the kitchen and sneak tastes of the food that was being served as well.
Even though she wouldn’t be a guest at the ball, she would find a way to enjoy herself. Not that she could let Aunt Wilhelmina knowthat. Her aunt hated the idea of Angelique enjoying herself.
“You’ll need to inform your cousins of the departure and help them get their luggage together,” her aunt said. “Make sure everyone has everything they need, yes?”
“Yes, Aunt Wilhelmina.”
“And Ella, do make sure you take a look at what Grace is wearing. I won’t have her dressing in some ugly, oversized frock for this party. She must look her best! Help her select something that will show her off to her best advantage.”
That would be difficult, Angelique thought ruefully as she left her aunt’s room. Poor Grace, the least favored of her cousins… she could be lovely if anyone would help her, but she received no help. Aunt Wilhelmina despised the fact that Grace was a bit plump and refused to purchase clothes that would have flattered her figure, insisting instead on buying things that Grace would only fit into properly if she were to lose some weight.
As a result, Grace often looked as if she had been stuffed into a sausage casing. If she’d had something appropriate to wear, she could have looked beautiful for the party, but in the clothes she owned, there was very little chance of it.
