The Secret Life of a Debutante (Determined Debutantes Book 1) by Bianca Blythe

Author:Bianca Blythe [Blythe, Bianca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2021-11-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Cornelius surveyed the town house. He’d been there many times, of course, but most times, he’d worn clothes carefully chosen by his valet. Blair had most certainly not chosen this, even if he had been tasked with asking the housekeeper for assistance.

Cornelius didn’t step from the carriage, lest his driver see him. Dressing in the cramped carriage had sufficed in terribleness.

The glossy black door leading to the Holt home swung open. Then Eloisa sprang outside and dashed toward the door.

She was beautiful. Cornelius’s chest tightened automatically.

Her red hair gleamed under the sunbeams that swathed everything in its light. Nothing, though, could rival Eloisa in loveliness. Not the flowers, not the trees, and not the architecture. She was perfect.

Timothy and Constance exited, and Cornelius’s heart sank.

He’d been prepared for this, but he’d hoped it wouldn’t happen.

Cornelius slowly opened the door to the carriage. Eloisa’s lips parted, and a surge of pride moved through him. She quickly composed herself, but her eyes glimmered.

He remained in the door, conscious of the ridiculous figure he must be and grateful no one would think a woman of his supposed advanced age would be clothed in a corset. Well, perhaps certain women at this age would be wearing corsets, but Cornelius’s great-aunt would not be. He patted his cap as if it might have fallen off. It was still there though.

“I’m certain it’s not necessary to speak to her,” Eloisa said.

“Nonsense,” Timothy replied. “We have not met her yet. It is only proper.”

On another occasion, Cornelius might have smiled at his friend’s thoroughness. Clearly Timothy had changed since his chief pleasure had been tossing his younger sisters into the lake.

Constance and Timothy approached the carriage. Cornelius stayed firmly inside, wishing the sunlight had decided to be less bright. The sun normally relaxed, casting a dim light when it did not decide to let storms replace it entirely, but now it was out in full force.

Blast.

Cornelius made certain the curtains in the carriage were closed.

Finally, Timothy poked his head inside the carriage.

“Ah, you must be Cornelius’s great-aunt.”

“I am,” Cornelius squeaked.

“You have your great-nephew’s eyes.”

Cornelius nodded rapidly, then clutched his white cap.

Timothy’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Now you’ve met her,” Eloisa said. “Isn’t that marvelous?”

“Cornelius told me you need assistance in traveling to Brighton.”

“Yes,” Cornelius squeaked, doing his best falsetto. He suddenly had a rush of appreciation for Shakespearean actors who sustained the illusion.

But then, at least people knew they were actors.

He didn’t want to think what would happen if Timothy discovered Cornelius had disguised himself as an octogenarian woman in order to travel alone with Timothy’s younger sister on a multiday journey to Britain’s most eyebrow-raising city.

Cornelius yawned.

Then he closed his eyes and kept them closed.

“She fell asleep,” came Eloisa’s voice.

“But I wanted to ask her more questions,” came Timothy’s.

Cornelius let out a tentative snore.

Constance’s voice reached him next. “You are doing a very good thing by assisting her. You should be very proud. Don’t you think, Timothy?”

“Er—yes,” Timothy said.

Shuffling sounded, and a most delightful fragrance filled the carriage.

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