I spotted Eliza’s bra peeking out from behind a pillow on the sofa, and I scrambled over to grab it. “Please have a seat,” I said, sinking down and shoving it deep into the cushions.
He took an armchair we’d found in the second-hand shop around the corner, his fingers grazing over its worn arms. A look of distaste curled his upper lip, but he said nothing.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” I offered.
“Don’t go to the trouble,” he said, somehow making it sound both polite and condescending at once. “I came to speak to you.”
“Why?” I asked. I was nobody. He was sitting in the very proof of that fact now.
“That photograph I showed you,” he began, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “to be honest, I’d hoped to find someone else here.”
“Kerrigan?” I asked and his eyes widened.
“Yes…”
“That’s what the ass who took that photo of me, without permission I might add, called me.”
“Then, you haven’t seen her?” Disappointment colored the question. When I shook my head, his shoulders slumped like branches sagging under their own weight. “I suppose I had hoped you might be…”
“Her?” I couldn’t contain my surprise. “No, and I told that guy yesterday that.” Had he really come all the way from London to see if I’d been lying? “I looked up Kerrigan last night. I doubt you’re going to find her anywhere this...humble.” It was the nicest way I could put it. It would have been more accurate to say that I doubted she would lower herself to even stepping one pedicured foot into West Bexby let alone take a cheap flat over a hair salon.
“You must forgive me. I’m just rather desperate to find her.”
“Did you lose her?” I thought of the recent photos I’d seen on Kerrigan’s social media accounts. Most of them included snow and Christmas decorations. It was late summer now, which meant she hadn’t posted recently. No doubt her hundreds of thousands of followers were disappointed. Maybe one had finally tracked her down. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know her or where she is.”
“Neither do I,” he admitted.
“Maybe that’s what she wants.”
“One would assume so since she ran away.”
“Ran away?” I repeated.
“Yes. Around the holidays. Her stepmother and I assumed she wanted a break from all the parties. She left a note saying as much, but she hasn’t returned,” he said.
My mouth fell open as I realized who he was and why he was here. Instantly, I felt horrible for giving him so much attitude. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know she was missing, Mr...”
“Tod. Tod Belmond. Not missing exactly,” he said. “We’ve had word. She’s just left out some important details about when she plans to return home. I apologize. This probably all sounds very unusual.”
Unusual was not the word I would use to describe it. Did rich people just do this? Check in and out of their lives on a whim? And over what? Growing bored going to tiresome parties? “I’m sorry that I couldn’t help you.”
“Actually, you might be able to, Miss…?”
“Kate is fine,” I said.
“We believe Kerrigan might have cold feet, and I’m concerned that by the time she faces her fears, she may have done irreparable damage to her future,” he started.
I nodded, trying to keep my eyes from rolling. There was nothing I could do about them. It sounded to me as though his daughter was a bit of a spoiled brat. “Why would she have cold feet?”
“We have an arrangement—it’s very common among families in our circle,” he explained, choosing his words with obvious care. It hardly mattered. I could translate the meaning he was trying to skirt so delicately. Whatever the arrangement was, it was common between filthy rich people. People like him and his daughter. Not me. “Kerrigan is practically engaged to Spencer Byrd.”
He paused as if expecting a response. Finally, I shrugged. “Good for them?”
“The Byrds hold a hereditary peerage and Spencer will be Duke of Wellesley when his grandfather passes. Our family and the Byrds have been planning this marriage since before Kerrigan was born,” he informed me.
My mouth gaped open. “Seriously? An arranged marriage?”
“People like us do not marry without purpose. We must see to our estates and duties.”
“You mean, keep rich people rich without actually doing anything?” I suddenly understood why Kerrigan had run away. Being forced to marry someone purely to uphold some agreement, made with no regard to my feelings, would make me want to run, too.
“If that is how you like to think of it.” His smile was tight and forced. In the entire time he’d been here, he hadn’t relaxed in the slightest. Maybe he was worried being poor would rub off on him.
“Regardless, I find myself in a predicament. The Byrds wish to announce the engagement, but my daughter refuses to come home. Arrangements need to be made. Introductions—”
“Introductions?” I interrupted him. “Do you mean she hasn’t met the man you’re marrying her off to yet?”
“Kerrigan is familiar with the Byrd family. Of course, she’s met Spencer before, but it was years ago. They attended different universities, and haven’t met since.”
“I don’t really see how I can help you.” It was hard to feel sorry for him given that he was basically willing to sell his daughter to some random man with little thought to her feelings. Still, he had to be at least a bit worried about her well-being.
“You’re wrong. You can help me,” he said to my surprise. “You look just like her…”
“So, I’ve heard,” I said slowly, a chilling sense of dread welling in my stomach.
Despite my body’s warning, I wasn’t prepared for what he said next. “I need you to pretend to be Kerrigan.”
“What?” I shook my head, feeling a little dazed by this revelation. “I don’t think I understand.”
Be Kerrigan? Like it was a role I could just drop into? He was mental. I stared at her father, noticing for the first time the purple bruising under his eyes, a sign he wasn’t sleeping well. He hid the truth behind an expensive suit and businessman manner, but it was there. He was worried. But I couldn’t decide if he was worried about his daughter or his plans?
“Kerrigan will return,” he said firmly. “It’s simply a matter of biding time until she does. You really do look exactly like her. It would be easy to fool anyone into believing you were her.”
I snorted at the thought. “I doubt that.”
I might look like Kerrigan but I didn’t know the first thing about her life. It wouldn’t take a genius to see through me.
“You will be coached,” he continued as if he knew what I was thinking. “We will arrange for you to have access to Kerrigan’s friends.”
“We?” Was there more than one insane person behind this idea?
“Myself and Kerrigan’s assistant. Kerrigan told him everything. He is the perfect person to guide you, and he is the soul of discretion.” His eyes pinched as if this last fact both impressed him and infuriated him.