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Me: Hi, I know this is out of the blue but would you be interested in coming to London with me on Saturday afternoon? It’s a family dinner at my mother’s flat in Bayswater. I’m warning you, it could be a shit show. My sister and my ex will be there. And we’d have to stay overnight.
Thomas messaged back five minutes later.
TTTE: So you need me to be your fake boyfriend?
Me: Something like that. I know it’s a lot to ask but I can pay for your train ticket and you’d get a free meal. I’m dreading turning up alone and having to face them.
TTTE: I would. But I’m supposed to be working at the castle on Saturday afternoon.
Me: Ah, right! I forgot about that. Don’t worry about it then.
TTTE: What about Jeremy? Can’t you ask him?
Me: No. Fuck Jeremy!!!!!
TTTE: What happened?!
Me: Let’s just say I’m starting to see him more clearly and the picture isn’t as pretty as I thought it was.
There were a few minutes of nonresponse. Then I got,
TTTE: Actually, I will come. I’ll tell them I’m detained this weekend. A family emergency.
Me: Are you sure? That would be amazing if you could but I don’t want to put you out.
TTTE: Yup, I’m sure. Count me in for the shit show on Saturday.
Chapter 18
In the morning, I lent Rose one of my maid’s dresses, which was slightly too tight and much too short for her but would do for the meantime. I watched as she brushed her long thick dark hair, pinning it up into a bun, ready for my second-best maid’s cap. She twisted from side to side to see the effect in my looking glass, and a stab of envy penetrated my heart so painfully that I had to look away to keep from gasping.
Rose was simply stunning, but most of all, her creamy complexion was flawless. I’d never wanted anything as bad as I wanted her skin at that moment. The unfairness of it all took my breath away. We had the same colouring, eyes and hair, except that I was the ugly twin. How could God do this to me when I’d offered her charity out of the goodness of my heart? He was holding up this girl, who was so beautiful, like a reflection and was taunting me, ‘See what you’re never going to be?’
My life was difficult enough with Jasper at the moment, but to add Rose to the equation was simply unbearable. My mind’s eye travelled into the future, and I could see with utmost certainty what was going to happen. It was inevitable: Jasper would fall in love with Rose. The fact that Rose was of the serving class didn’t faze my fertile imagination. From what I knew of Jasper, he couldn’t resist a pretty face, and Rose had a spunk that I was sure he’d find irresistible. I sighed in despair.
Rose turned and looked at me with concern. ‘Everything all right, Mercy?’ I nodded my head, already resigning myself to what lay ahead. The sooner I accepted it, the better I would be able to cope. I smiled brightly.
‘Yes, let’s go down and start serving breakfast.’
Maggie was putting the finishing touches on the gentlemen’s breakfast of hot rolls, fresh honey, eggs, and bacon. She looked up as we entered the kitchen.
‘Ahh, just in time, girls. Them’s tray is ready. Mercy, do you want to carry? And, Rose, you can take in the coffee.’
I led the way, feeling as if I was about to go to the guillotine, not sure I would be able to cope with the first moment when Jasper laid eyes on Rose. But there was nothing to be done. I entered the dining room, and both he and Sebastian were there reading their papers. Only Sebastian lowered his and greeted us, though.
‘Good morning, Mercy,’ he said warmly. ‘And this must be Rose?’
‘Yes, Rose Baker, sir,’ said Rose, dropping a small curtsy. ‘Pleased to make your acquaintance.’
Sebastian looked at her appreciatively, taking in her pretty heart-shaped face and blooming complexion.
‘Maggie tells me you’re in need of employment and a place to stay for a while. Well, you’re welcome here for as long as you like. I hope you don’t mind sharing with Mercy?’
‘No, sir, I don’t mind at all,’ said Rose, putting down the coffee pot on the table.
‘Well, I mind,’ said Jasper, lowering his paper and pouring himself a cup of coffee. ‘I’m sure I don’t want some half-starved, loose-fingered gypsy in the house. One loose-fingered maid is enough.’
I waited for it, any minute now. He took a bite of his roll, glanced up, and saw Rose standing there, looking more unlike a loose-fingered gypsy than anyone ever could. Chewing, his eyes widened and slid insolently from the top of her head, lingered on her rosebud lips, followed the curve of her cheek down to her slightly swelled bosom, continued down to her slim waist, and then to the tips of her dainty booted toes.
