The Arrogant Duke

‘But how?’

‘I don’t know.’ Rosemary had lit a cigarette before replying, studying its tip with concentration. ‘There are always heaps of jobs available for governesses and nannies which entail travel.’

‘But I couldn’t be either of them,’ exclaimed Juliet. ‘I’ve had no training for a job like that!’

Rosemary had had to agree, so the problem had remained unsolved until Juliet read the advertisement for this job which had appeared in The Times. She had rung Rosemary and told her, and over a prolonged lunch break they had discussed the pros and cons.

‘You must realize that there’ll be heaps of applicants for a position like this,’ said Rosemary, dousing some of Juliet’s enthusiasm.

‘Even so, it is a long way away,’ Juliet had answered. ‘Lots of girls won’t want to work so far away from home.’

‘Maybe,’ said Rosemary doubtfully. ‘But what about your father?’

‘He wouldn’t know anything about it until I’d gone,’ said Juliet, with decision. ‘If I told him he’d only try to stop me.’

‘And don’t you think he will anyway?’ exclaimed Rosemary. ‘It will be the easiest thing in the world for him to trace you there.’

‘Oh, yes, I suppose you’re right. My passport and booking and everything!’ Juliet heaved a sigh.

‘Of course.’ Rosemary studied her sympathetically. ‘Oh, Juliet, I don’t know what to say.’

Juliet lifted her shoulders, lighting herself a cigarette. ‘What is there to say?’ she said moodily. Then, as though mesmerized, an idea caused her to allow the match to burn her fingers. ‘Ouch!’ she gasped, rubbing the injured finger. ‘Rosemary, I have had an idea! The perfect solution, in fact. If you’re agreeable!’

Rosemary lay back in her seat. ‘Go on. What is it?’

‘Well,’ Juliet ran her tongue over her lips excitedly, ‘how about my using your passport?’

Rosemary sat up in astonishment. ‘My passport!’ she echoed.

Juliet nodded vigorously. ‘Yes. Oh yes, Rosemary. It’s the perfect solution! You know how alike people have always said we are, same hair, same height, same colouring! Those passport photographs are notoriously terrible. No one studies them in detail.’

‘They do,’ exclaimed Rosemary indignantly. ‘But maybe so far as the photo is concerned you might get away with it. It isn’t a very good likeness of me.’

‘You see!’ Juliet’s eyes were alight. ‘Your hair is the same colour as mine, and all I’d have to do is wind mine up in that pleat you wear. We’re both quite tall and slim, and our colouring is practically the same.

‘Your tan is deeper,’ returned Rosemary dryly, ‘but then I haven’t just spent three weeks in the South of France.’

Juliet sighed, and gave a wry smile. ‘You may not believe this, Rosemary, but I’d rather be you than me any day of the week!’

Rosemary looked contrite. ‘I know, I know,’ she said, feeling sorry for what she had hinted. It was true, Juliet did not consider herself lucky. Compared to Rosemary, Juliet’s life was empty. ‘It would mean you adopting my identity,’ she continued thoughtfully.

Juliet’s young face darkened. ‘Oh, yes, it would,’ she said slowly. ‘Damn!’

‘Well, that’s not insuperable,’ replied Rosemary consideringly. ‘After all, no one knows your name there, or mine either, for that matter. You could be Rosemary Summers; it’s not such an uncommon name.’

Juliet looked at her with wide eyes. ‘I really believe you’re considering it,’ she exclaimed. ‘Oh, Rosemary, would you? Would you really?’

Rosemary gave a grimace. ‘Well, I don’t see how I can refuse,’ she replied dryly. ‘I’m very fond of you, Juliet, and although we’re the same age, I always feel years older than you. I don’t want to see you forced mentally, if not exactly physically, into an unhappy marriage. There are too many of them around already, and I know that men like Roger Latimer and Stephen Longdon and that awful Jeremy McVane would bore you stiff!’

Juliet clasped her hands together. ‘Do you really think I might get away with it?’ she exclaimed.

Rosemary shrugged. ‘Well, you’ve got to get the job first,’ she replied practically. ‘And quite honestly, with your appearance I doubt whether you’d even be considered!’

Juliet frowned. ‘Why?’

‘Well, you don’t look as though you need a job, for a start, and secondly they’re bound to want somebody plain, and ordinary, and not too decorative. After all, the West Indies is quite a place. They won’t want their suitable applicant finding herself a husband during the first few weeks she’s there.’

Juliet looked thoughtful now. ‘Yes, you’re right, as usual,’ she murmured. ‘I’ll just have to make myself look very plain, and very ordinary, and if I put my hair up as you wear yours that should add a few years!’

‘Gee, thanks!’ exclaimed Rosemary dryly, and they both collapsed in giggles.

Remembering all this now, Juliet felt a smile curve her lips. Rosemary had been wonderful, particularly as she was aware, just as acutely as Juliet, that she would be the first person Robert Lindsay would contact when he discovered Juliet had disappeared. She would have to be very astute not to be caught out by a man as determined as Robert Lindsay.

The interview had been rather different from Juliet’s imaginings. When she arrived at the offices of Benyon, Forster, Benyon and Benyon, she found only one other applicant waiting for interview. She was a girl of around her own age, who confided to Juliet that the job did not appear to be the sinecure it had first appeared to be.

‘This girl we’re supposed to be companion to – did you know she was confined to a wheelchair?’

Juliet smoothed the skirt of her dark grey suit over her knees. It seemed far too long after the short styles she was used to wearing, but at least it gave her an added sense of confidence.

‘Well,’ she replied carefully, ‘the advertisement did say that she had some degree of disability.’

‘Some degree!’ the other girl sniffed. ‘I don’t call an invalid in a wheelchair only partially disabled! Heavens, I thought maybe she had only one arm or something like that!’

Juliet felt a sense of distaste at the girl’s words. ‘I don’t see that it matters,’ she said quietly. ‘Surely a girl so young, confined as she is, deserves companionship.’

‘It’s a nurse they want, not a companion,’ retorted the girl shortly. Then she stood up. ‘Oh, anyway, I don’t think I’ll stay. I don’t want that kind of a job. It was the locality that appealed to me. Tell them I changed my mind, will you?’

Juliet’s eyes widened. ‘All right. But are you sure?’

‘Of course I’m sure. G’bye. Hope you get it, if you want it!’

After the girl had gone Juliet felt uncomfortable. What would the interviewers think when she had to tell them that one of their applicants had changed her mind? She hoped they wouldn’t think she had said anything to deter her.

But when a man who she later discovered to be Mr. Forster came to ask Miss Laurence, as the girl had been called, to come in, and Juliet explained what had happened, he merely shook his head sadly, and said:

‘I’m afraid we worded the advertisement wrongly, Miss Summers – it is Miss Summers, isn’t it?’ and at Juliet’s nod: ‘All the applicants appear to have believed Miss de Castro had some mild disablement that would not inconvenience themselves too greatly. I gather Miss Laurence advised you of the facts of the matter.’

Juliet rose to her feet. ‘Yes, she did.’

He nodded. ‘I see. It was very kind of you to wait and see me.’ He sighed. ‘We must advertise again.’

Juliet drew her brows together. ‘Do I take it then that I’m unsuitable?’

Mr. Forster stared at her. ‘You mean — you’re prepared to take the job?’

Juliet bit her lip. ‘Well, yes, if you’re prepared to interview me.’

Mr. Forster rubbed his hands together. ‘Oh, indeed, yes, indeed, Miss Summers. Come in – come in! I’m sure we can work something out.’