The Lady in Disguise

Chapter Four (part 2)

Emilia had never been idle outside of sleep and, according to most who'd witnessed her at rest, she wasn't idle even then. So, rather than standing about panicking, she began unpacking her mistress' trunk - a task which would be much easier if her mistress would be still or, better yet, go and fix this awful mess.

"Oh, no, Miss Prudence," Miss Prudence herself said, tossing the dress she was holding aside carelessly, pulling out another, "not that one. You must wear your blue dimity or the yellow-"

"Your dimity dress is green," Emilia said, snatching the blue dress away from her before she tossed it about as well. "And your yellow muslin is not at all the thing for supper. Now will ye stop foolin' and step out of that brown, wrinkled thing so I can-"

"Such a shame I couldn't persuade you to curl your hair last night," Prudence said lightly, plucking out the curling tongs. "Now I shall burn your ears with this terrible contraption. It's all your own fault for not mindin' me."

"That sounds nothin' like me," Emilia protested.

"Oh, yes, it does!" Prudence muttered, digging in the trunk again. "Now, I just have to choose a ribbon for your hair. I will take as long as possible, of course, since this is obviously the most important choice since Wellington enlisted."

Emilia took the ribbons away, too. "Very amusing. You've had your fun now. Will you please change your dress?"

She turned to her, still fooling with the curling tongs. "But why?"

"So you can go down to supper and correct this."

Prudence smiled blandly. "But why?" she asked again. "Are you commanding me? As your ladies maid, I suppose--"

"You're sillier than your sister."

"Charity would be very insulted to hear that."

"Miss Prudence, please..."

"Call me Emilia," her charge said, laughing madly. "I might even forgive Carter for betraying me because this is so much better than I could have imagined!"

It was obvious Prudence was going to draw this out as long as possible. She'd kept it up so far. Prudence sat by while Mrs. Baddeley insisted on Emilia drinking a noxious headache remedy right in front of her. Emilia had little choice but to go along, and her headache had not been remedied at all.

"No one here knows me," Prudence said, still smiling. "Not even Pembroke, my apparent lovesick swain. Did you hear him? He said I was just as lovely as he remembered... while staring at you!"

"Well, I-"

"Look, I'm not saying you aren't lovely. You are."

"That's not what I have a problem with. I-"

"Claiming to be so besotted by me and he sees you and doesn't know the difference." Prudence threw up her hands. "Come now, you must see it, too! It's too funny!"

"I see nothin' funny about it," Emilia huffed. "If ye'd let me change your gown in the first place, ye'd have arrived lookin' more like yourself and less like... like..."

"Like your maid!" Miss Prudence gasped. "Won't this be a lark? Do you suppose I'll be shown to my chamber soon? I suppose I shall have to wear your clothes, but we're of a similar size, so I think--"

"No. There's no need to take this so far." Emilia's eyes widened. "I'm sure Lord Pembroke has learned his lesson."

"Sir Anthony Pembroke," Prudence corrected. "We must not forget him. The man who adores me so!" She let out a giggle, then sobered slightly. "You're to address him as Sir Anthony."