The two girls paused in the doorway. They were as alike as two peas in a pod, and the expression on both faces said, why has this duchess asked to see us?
“Come on in, ladies,” Eleanor said. “Please, take a seat. Which of you is Iris and which Ivy?”
They were both beauties. If their stepmama managed a Season in York for them, they would be a huge success, even with little dowry. And Lady Seahaven would give them that chance, if Eleanor’s information proved to be accurate.
“I am Iris,” said the girl whose cream-coloured gown was trimmed with purple ribbons. The other, in a dress nearly identical except for the green ribbons replied at the same moment. “I am Ivy.”
“I should say Lady Iris and Lady Ivy, should I not?” Eleanor asked.
The sisters looked at one another.
Eleanor spoke before they could decide what to say. “I had the pleasure of meeting up with your sister, Lady Dorothea, last week, when I asked to meet the cook of the delightful cakes I enjoyed with my tea. Speaking of which, how do you take your tea? Milk? Cream? Sugar?”
Another of those looks, full of the kind of communication known only to twins. Iris spoke for them both, asking for tea with a small quantity of cream and a half spoon of sugar.
Eleanor continued speaking as she prepared the cups. “Hearing that the lovely miniatures of the landscape had been painted by a pair of Bigglesworth twins, I remembered that Henry Seahaven had twin daughters. By his third wife, was it not?”
Iris nodded. “Did you know our mother, Your Grace? We do not remember her.”
“I am sorry, Iris. I did not have that pleasure. I knew your father. He came to London to vote his seat in Parliament, and we were occasionally at the same entertainments, but your mother married here in the north and stayed here through most of her marriage. You appear to have inherited her artistic talent, young ladies.”
The girls blushed, duplicate roses blooming on their cheeks.
“Tell me about yourselves,” Eleanor invited.
Shyly at first, but with increasing confidence, they spoke of their lives in a little cottage in a village near Harrogate, where they sold their artwork to tourists such as Eleanor, who had come to take the waters.
It was clear that they had no thought of a Season or of romance. Their attention was all on helping their family. What charming and well-behaved young ladies these Bigglesworth girls were! Eleanor determined to help them if she could. Perhaps, if the opportunity she had heard about came through, Eleanor could put the word in the ear of a few hostesses to ensure that the girls had plenty of invititations?
Iris and Ivy Bigglesworth are the heroines of Elizabeth Ellen Carter’s “The Four to One Fancy”, a story in Desperate Daughters. On preorder now. Only 99c until publication.