FOR A LONG MOMENT, her words hung in the air as if everyone in the room was holding their breath.
This wasn’t how Wes wanted her to learn the truth. But he hadn’t been able to come up with any good way to divulge his deception—aside from the lingering idea about waiting until after they were married, which had a great deal of merit, even if it was rather stupid.
“The truth.” Wesley chose his words with care. “Well, my name is indeed Wesley Grant and not Everheart.”
Anabel smiled encouragingly.
“And I’m not an actor.” His gaze met hers. “I’ve been trying to tell you, but I just couldn’t seem to manage it.”
Bewilderment furrowed her brow. “But you were hired by Aunt Lillian.”
“Why would Lillian hire an actor?” Sir Archibald asked Mrs. Higginbotham.
“Hush, Archie,” the older woman murmured.
“I don’t know who your aunt hired, but it wasn’t me.” Wes shook his head. “I’m not an actor.”
“Why does she think he’s an actor?” Sir Archibald frowned.
“Do be quiet, Sir Archibald,” Lady Blodgett said with a huff in her voice.
Anabel shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
Wes braced himself. “The night we met at the Explorers Club, you heard my American accent and assumed I was the actor you were expecting.”
“I don’t understand any of this either,” Sir Archibald muttered.
Anabel stared at Wes. “Why didn’t you stop me the moment you realized I had mistaken you for someone else?”
“You were pretty.”
She stared at him as if that was a bad thing.
“Very pretty.” Given the look on her face, that was apparently not the right answer either. “And you needed help. How could I not want to rescue a beautiful damsel so clearly in distress?”
Her expression softened but only a shade. Still, it was encouraging.
“Why, I might well have fallen in love with you that very night.”
“Too much, I think,” one of the older ladies murmured.
Anabel crossed her arms over her chest. “You fell in love with me the night we met?”
“I didn’t realize it at the time, but now I have no doubt of it.” He nodded eagerly. This was going better than expected—she was at least listening to him. “Oh, certainly you were a bit cranky and sanctimonious and somewhat judgmental—”
She glared.
“But determined and delightful nonetheless.” He met her gaze firmly. “And if I had told you the truth from the beginning, I wouldn’t have had the joy of spending the last two weeks with you. So I’m not the least bit sorry I pretended to be someone I wasn’t.”
“Is there more?” Anabel asked coolly.
Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore winced.
This was going to be awkward, but at this point honesty was probably the only choice. At least the only choice Wesley could think of. “You should also know that I came to London to meet your father and the other gentlemen on the board of the Explorers Club.”
She studied him thoughtfully as if she were putting together all the myriad pieces of a puzzle. “Father said you’re the president of a company. Your family’s company, I assume?”
He nodded.
“You said the travel chronometer was developed by the president of the company.”
“It was.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And that’s you?”
“Yes.” He ventured a grin. “You like it, don’t you?”
“It is a rather extraordinary instrument but that’s beside the point.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “You used me to get to my father!”
“I did not!” He shook his head. “I would never do such a thing. But you did use me to avoid marriage.”
“That’s different. I paid you!”
Sir Archibald choked. “You what?” He glanced at Mrs. Higginbotham. “I’ve heard nothing about this.”
“Then be quiet, Archie, and you may learn something,” Mrs. Higginbotham said sharply and threw Wes an encouraging look.
“No.” Wes shook his head. “You didn’t. Your aunt paid someone but it wasn’t me.”
“I thought you were struggling and penniless!” Anabel snapped.
“Then you didn’t have any faith in my acting abilities, did you?”
“Of course not.” She scoffed. “I had never heard of you, so it was obvious to me you weren’t especially successful. I thought you were probably a dreadful actor.”
“I made you fall in love with me.”
Her brow arched up. “You said you weren’t acting.”
“I wasn’t! The only reason everyone believed I am in love with you is because it’s true!” He threw his hands up in the air. “And yes, I am the head of the Grant Watch and Clock Company, a company started by my grandfather. And the best thing that has ever happened to me on this Christmas or any Christmas was meeting you and becoming entangled in your—”
Without warning, the door flew open and Anabel’s aunt stood in the entry like some kind of avenging Christmas angel.
“Wait!” she cried, squaring her shoulders and flinging her arm out to point an accusing finger at Wesley. “This man is not Earnest Everheart!”
Sir Archibald frowned and glanced at Mrs. Higginbotham. “Who?”
The older woman shrugged.
“This man—” Lady Farstead cast a disgusted look at Wesley “—is an imposter!”
Father groaned.
Lady Farstead marched into the room. “I don’t know who this man is but he certainly isn’t who he says he is.” She gestured grandly at the door, and the gentleman who had approached Anabel at the Egyptian Society ball swept into the room. Wes had suspected who he was the moment he had seen him. “This is the son of Reginald Everheart!”
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Earnest Everheart.” He swept an overly dramatic bow and Wes’s suspicions were confirmed. “And I am at your service.”
“He resembles his father,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore murmured.
“No, he doesn’t, because he’s not the son of Reginald Everheart,” Lady Blodgett said pleasantly.
Lady Farstead glanced at her. “He’s not?”
“I’m afraid not.” Mrs. Higginbotham shrugged and nodded at Wes. “But then again, neither is he.”
Lady Farstead stared at Wes. “Then who are you?”
“It’s always difficult to come in toward the end of a performance, isn’t it?” Lady Blodgett smiled.
“This is why no one should ever be seated after a play has begun,” the actor said under his breath.
“My name is Wesley Grant,” Wes said. “I’m American. I’m not penniless.” He slanted Anabel a fast look. “Sorry.”
She shrugged.
“Why on earth would she mind that he’s not penniless?” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore said under her breath.
Wes met Lady Farstead’s gaze directly. “And I’m in love with your niece.”
“He’s the man I plan to marry, Aunt Lillian.”
“I see.” Lady Farstead frowned. “No, I really don’t but it doesn’t matter at this point, I suppose.” She turned to the actor. “It appears your services are no longer needed.”
“Who is he?” Frustration rang in Sir Archibald’s voice.
“Apparently it no longer matters.” Lady Farstead waved off the question. “He’s merely an unreliable actor of my acquaintance.”
“I’ll have you know, I am unfailingly reliable.” The actor bristled. “Why, Earnest Henderson has never missed a scheduled performance in his life.”
“Earnest?” Wes said to Anabel.
“So, he’s the actor?” Sir Archibald said.
“It’s really not the least bit important at this point, Archie.” Mrs. Higginbotham smiled. “It’s best if you just let it go.”
“Good evening, Mr. Henderson,” Lady Farstead said pointedly and waved at the door.
“Yes, of course.” Henderson started for the door, but then paused and lowered his voice. “About the money...”
“Keep it.” Lady Farstead again shooed him toward the door.
Sir Archibald shook his head. “I don’t mind saying, I’m rather confused as to who is who and what is what.”
“I’m not,” Wes said firmly. “Sir Archibald, may I have the honor of your daughter’s hand in marriage?”
“Haven’t we already done this?”
“Wesley Everheart did. It’s Wesley Grant’s turn.” He met Anabel’s gaze firmly. “If she will still have me.”
Anabel considered him for an endless moment. He held his breath. “So, you’re neither struggling nor penniless.”
“Actually, I’m considered quite successful and I have a sizable fortune.” He shrugged apologetically. “People do like to know what time it is.”
“I would think his not being penniless is something she can overlook,” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore said in an aside to Lady Blodgett, who nodded in agreement.
“I can give away all my money if that will make you happy,” he said staunchly. “I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy, and if being poor will make you happy...”
“Come now, Wesley.” Mrs. Higginbotham huffed. “Of course she doesn’t want to be poor. Do you, Anabel?”
“Poverty doesn’t really appeal to me,” she said in a serious tone but her green eyes twinkled.
“I thought as much.” Mrs. Higginbotham nodded. “Go on, Wesley, finish it up.”
“As I was saying before I was interrupted—” he shot a pointed look at the elderly ladies “—I love you, Anabel Snelling, and I promise I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never want for warmth or joy or laughter. Do me the very great honor of becoming my wife. Dance with me, Anabel, now and forever.”
Aunt Lillian sniffed back a tear.
“Reginald would be so proud,” one of the ladies murmured.
For a long moment Anabel didn’t say a word. “Well,” she said at last, her voice decidedly unsteady. “I did say that how we came to this point didn’t matter.”
Wes nodded. “You did.”
“And I’ll probably never get a better offer. I am almost twenty-one, you know.” Her gaze locked with his.
“I will love you when you’re a hundred and one,” Wes said simply.
“I have already given you my answer once.”
“It bears repeating.”
“Very well then.” Her lips curved up into a slow smile. “I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you. Yes, Wesley Grant, I will marry you and I will dance with you forever.”
Wes hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until now. At once he was at her side, taking her into his arms and kissing her for an endless moment, knowing this was only the beginning.
“Apparently I’ve missed a great deal,” Lady Farstead said softly.
“You have no idea.” Mrs. Higginbotham chuckled.
Sir Archibald cleared his throat.
Wes raised his head but couldn’t quite bring himself to let her go. Judging by the way she looked at him, she didn’t want him to.
“I shall announce your engagement tonight as planned,” Sir Archibald said.
“I really don’t think you should.” Anabel sighed and stepped out of his arms. “Not until we come up with a way to explain why he was using Everheart instead of his own name.”
“And we have.” Father grinned. “Or rather Effie and her friends have. It’s really rather brilliant.”
“And quite simple.” Lady Blodgett smiled smugly. “Wesley assumed a different name, as it was imperative no one knew he was in London.”
Anabel frowned. “Why?”
“Yes, why?” Wesley asked.
“Business, my dear boy.” Mrs. Higginbotham smirked. “The world of new inventions is highly spirited. No doubt there are other watchmakers and clockmakers with their own chronographs who would do anything to edge out the competition. A competitor wouldn’t suspect that the son of Reginald Everheart, a well-known, intrepid explorer, was actually here to present Wesley’s chronometer to the Explorers Club. It’s entirely too bold.”
“That makes absolutely no sense.” Anabel’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“It’s business, dear.” Mrs. Fitzhew-Wellmore waved her hand dismissively. “It’s not expected to make sense.”
“Now, may I announce your engagement?” Impatience rang in Sir Archibald’s voice.
“Frankly, sir—” Wes took Anabel’s hand and gazed into her eyes “—I can’t wait.”
“Why, I believe it’s going to be a perfect Christmas after all.” Anabel smiled up at him. “And only the first.”
* * *
IT DID SEEM there was a great deal to talk about.
Not more than a moment later, Lady Farstead began discussing wedding plans, Anabel asked about Wesley’s real family and he started telling her about his life in America. All the while, Archie tried to herd them back to the ballroom. Effie suspected Archie thought if he didn’t announce this engagement immediately, Wesley might make his escape and then Anabel would be doomed to life as a spinster. Silly man.
Effie, Gwen and Poppy paused at the doorway after the others had left the room.
“That turned out nicely,” Gwen said with a satisfied smile.
“It always does when we lend our assistance.” Poppy grinned. “Perhaps we should do it more often.”
“I think we meddle in other people’s lives quite enough already, but it is satisfying.” Effie chuckled. “And a great deal of fun.”
“All’s well that ends well.” Gwen stepped into the corridor. “Come along, we would hate to miss this.”
“Do you think we’ll ever see him again?” Poppy said wistfully.
“Who?” Caution sounded in Gwen’s voice.
“Reginald Everheart, of course.” Poppy sighed. “I rather miss him.”
Effie resisted the urge to remind her that her old friend Reginald was never anything more than a figment of her imagination. A dashing, handsome, charming figment but a figment nonetheless. She took the other woman’s arm and the three friends started after Archie and his family.
“Stranger things have happened,” Gwen said. “We certainly never imagined we’d meet his son.”
“And one never knows what might happen next. Life is full of unexpected possibilities.” Effie chuckled. “Especially at Christmas.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Lady Travelers Guide to Deception with an Unlikely Earl by Victoria Alexander.