Prada and Prejudice

Chapter 20

The next morning, I'm sitting in the sunny little breakfast room, willing Victoria to stop shoveling eggs in her mouth so I can talk to Emily.

Emily and I need to come up with a plan as soon as possible. I have no idea when her wedding is... but didn't they love shotgun weddings or something back in the day?

Plus, the real Rebecca's arrival is creeping closer. Less than three weeks, now. Every day gets me closer to discovery.

Heck, what if the real Rebecca arrives early? She could randomly show up today for all I know. What if I'm sitting with them all over some random meal and Rebecca strolls in?

What do they do to people who scam their way into the household? I definitely don't want to find out. Alex doesn't strike me as the forgiving type.

"Did the two of you enjoy the dance at the Pommeroy estate?"

Great. So Victoria is done eating but she's not leaving.

Instead she's sitting up in her chair with posture fit for a queen, staring at the two of us like bugs under a microscope. I'm not sure what it is about her that bothers me so much. She's more intimidating than Angela and Trisha Marks combined.

"Yes, quite," Emily says.

"Lady Tonoway tells me you danced with His Grace," she says. She's staring straight at me with those piercing green eyes, like laser beams that will cut me to ribbons if I answer the wrong way.

I can't seem to ignore the sinking feeling low in my stomach. This can't be good. Not with a glare like that.

"Yes," I say, after a moment's hesitation.

"That was... polite of him."

Polite of him. Like he'd done it out of duty. Which, honestly, he said as much himself. I clench my jaw, hard.

I know he did it out of duty, since I'm his guest. But she doesn't know that — she doesn't know what he said before we danced. She's just trying to be condescending.

And as much as I hate it, I know what she's saying is true. Alex hates me as much as I hate him, so it makes sense. He was doing his gentlemanly duty.

But it still makes me want to snap at her.

I will not blurt out something stupid.

"Yes. He's quite... polite, isn't he? He must be, since he doesn't like dancing. I was the only girl he danced with." I smile right at her, stick a piece of meat in my mouth, and chew it with gusto.

Emily's fork stops moving, she looks up at me, and I see her swallow slowly. She wills me with her eyes to stop talking. "Shall we go for a turn about the garden, Rebecca?"

There it is again. Rebecca. I try to smile at her, but my lips barely move.

Emily and I are away from the table so quickly I'm not sure Victoria has even thought of a reply to my statement, and I enjoy the lost look on her face as we dash out of the room.

"I should think Victoria will be stewing over this for hours." Emily doesn't sound angry or even surprised, but rather amused. There's a devilish smirk I hardly recognize playing at the edges of her lips. "You shall have to teach me how to do that."

"Do what?"

We're out the door now and into the sun, and she links her arm with mine. Our skirts brush now and then as we walk along a cobbled path. "Send her off-kilter when she's trying so hard to have the upper hand."

"It's not so much a talent as an impulse. I'm afraid I have no restraint. You, on the other hand, manage to take things in stride and be graceful about it."

Emily smiles. "Perhaps if I knew how to speak as directly as you do, I could convince my father to break my engagement to a man I have no interest in knowing."

I have to fight the urge to laugh. In real life I'm the last person to stick up for myself — or for anyone else. I'm tongue-tied and shy. And yet... I feel a little empowered by the fact that Emily thinks of me differently. Like I can prove her right and prove everyone else wrong.

I stop next to a rosebush and, as they say, smell the roses. I linger over a small yellow bud. It buys me time to think of what to say next. "Do you think he would listen? Perhaps I can speak with him. Make him understand."

If she thinks that might work, the solution is simple.

Plan A: Talk to Emily's father.

She sighs and fiddles with the folds of her skirt. "Not at all. What my father wants, my father gets. There's no hope of swaying him."

I sigh and turn back toward her. Darn. So much for Plan A. She plops down on a stone bench and buries her face in her hands.

I can't let her give up that easily. There's got to be a way out of an arranged marriage.

It probably happens all the time, right?

"What about if we find some really great girl who wants to marry Denworth? Like maybe he's got a thing for blondes or redheads or really tall girls. We can do some legwork and find out what kind of girl he's into. If we find someone perfect, he'll forget all about you."

Plan B: Bait and Switch.

She shakes her head. "No, that would never do. Denworth's word is good. He'll never break it."

Hm. Nix Plan B.

"Oh." I twist the little yellow bud in my hand until it snaps off and I'm left with it in my palm, my thumb smoothing over the petals. "Well, there have to be some broken engagements in the history of this country, right?"

Emily nods but I still can't see her face. I hope she's not crying. I don't want to make her think it's more hopeless.

"What kinds of things do people do to initiate that?" I peel the petals off the bud one at a time and let them flutter to the ground. I hope she doesn't remind me that I told her I had tons of ideas.

She looks up, and I'm relieved to see that her eyes aren't shiny. She taps her chin and screws her mouth to the side, deep in thought. "Most often out of mutual agreement, though that would never happen with Denworth. Sometimes after scandals are uncovered, like a bankruptcy, or if someone was discovered to be illegitimate."

I cringe, the word illegitimate bringing up images of that letter to Alex.

She sighs. "Other times... Well, if the woman were discovered to be... " Emily looks around and then speaks in a low, hushed tone, "ruined, that would certainly be cause for a broken engagement. Why, Lord Forsythe broke an engagement to the daughter of the Earl of Bowmont just last season. It was quite the scandal."

I perk up. "What do you mean, ruined?"

From the way Emily swallows slowly, you'd think we were talking about smoking crack. I think I've scandalized her already. "Compromised. By... by another man."

"Oh!" I say, too loudly. "You mean, if the girl's not a virgin, the guy won't marry her?"

She nods, her eyes wide, as if being a non-virgin is akin to being an ax-murderer.

"Well, let's do that!"

Emily looks so shocked I think I could nudge her shoulder and she'd fall right over and into the rose bushes.

"I don't mean, actually do it... But can't we fake it?"

She's a little pale as she shakes her head, and it makes me laugh.

"I think you're misinterpreting me. What I mean is... can't we just make it look like you're, uh, compromised? You don't actually have to do anything. But if we can get people to believe it, maybe spread some rumors, Denworth will drop you like a hot potato. Problem solved."

Emily is shaking her head like I'm crazy. "You mean to stage a ruination?"

I bite back a laugh because the way she's saying it makes it seem wild and crazy and yet somehow like it's a formal process. "It could work, right? I mean, if your rep is tarnished, Denworth wouldn't want to marry you?"

She nods. "But everyone would believe I was immoral!"

"Immoral? Really?" I pause. I can see Emily isn't going to go along with this very easily. "But it could work. And in a year or two, no one would remember the scandal at all, and you'd live happily ever after with Trent."

"I can't possibly."

"You'd rather marry Denworth?"

My question hangs in the air as Emily plays with the folds of her skirt, staring down at the sheer fabric as if it's a Magic 8 Ball.

"How would it work?"

"We would come up with a plan for people to think you'd been alone with Trent. That's against the rules, right? You guys are supposed to have chaperones if you're together?" I snap another rosebud off the nearest bush, full of nervous energy. This could work, if she'll agree to it. I could fix the engagement and get her together with Trent.

She nods.

"So we'd tell everyone you spent the night alone with him. That would be enough. But if everyone thinks you're ruined, that's got to mean that everyone, not just Denworth, would stay away from you, right? If you're not good enough for Denworth, that would be the general consensus of society."

Emily furrows her brow and nods, looking like she's going to pitch her breakfast at any moment. Her gorgeous pale skin has gone ash-white.

"But if we could get Mr. Rallsmouth to agree in advance, make sure he wants to marry you even with the ruined reputation, it could work."

She nods again, slowly, like she doesn't want to follow my line of reasoning.

"It's our only choice. We have to do it. Let's talk to him and put the plan in motion.

Let's get you engaged to Mr. Rallsmouth."

Plan C: Ruin Emily.