The Brigadier's Daughter. Catherine March

      ‘Until it’s too late,’ interjected Felix.

      ‘Far too late,’ Georgia agreed.

      ‘And what about at the end of the marriage ceremony, when the vicar says you may kiss the bride?’ There was now a heavy note of sarcasm in Sasha’s voice, and she felt as though she had stumbled into one of her own dreams, for surely none of this could be real? ‘What do I do then?’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know, pretend you have a cold or something!’

      ‘And at the reception?’

      ‘Overcome by nerves,’ suggested Felix. ‘Come along, Georgie, the train for Edinburgh leaves in an hour. We really must go.’

      Georgia suddenly embraced her sister, and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Goodbye, darling, and thank you.’

      ‘For what?’

      ‘For helping us.’

      ‘I didn’t say that I would.’

      Georgia smiled, hugging Sasha one last time and smugly replied, ‘Oh, but you will, darling Sasha, I know you will.’

      And with that, Felix and Georgia departed. The door closed. She listened pensively to their muffled footfalls, until there was only silence, followed by the sudden clip-clop of a carriage passing in the street. Sasha ran lightfooted to the window, thrust back the heavy brocade curtain and peered out, catching a mere glimpse of the hackney carriage bearing Felix and Georgia. It was cold by the window, and she drew back, pulling the curtain into place. With a shiver she hurried to her own room and climbed back into bed, pulling the covers high up around her ears and curling into a ball, her knees drawn up to her waist.

      For a while she could not think of anything at all, and stared blankly into the dark, the first glimmer of dawn just beginning to touch the window. Then she felt the small round object in the palm of her hand and opened it, staring at the diamond engagement ring Georgia had relinquished.

      A sudden stab of panic and alarm sent goosebumps rippling over her skin, as Sasha contemplated the débâcle that would be tomorrow—no, this morning, the great day, The Wedding Day. Damn Georgia! How could she? How could she do this to them? To Captain Bowen? She drew in a painful breath as she wondered just how to tell him. Or should she go to her father and let him do the nasty deed? Yes, yes, she decided with a sigh of relief, Papa would handle it all quite admirably. With the matter settled, Sasha wriggled and snuggled down to sleep, but it was not long before her lashes flew open and she was again brooding on the impending doom about to fall upon her family.

      It was no use, she couldn’t possibly go back to sleep with all these thoughts raging inside her mind. With a sigh Sasha sat up, holding her head in her hands as she sat cross-legged in the bed, her thoughts roaming this way and that. She imagined that Georgia was most probably boarding her train for Scotland now, totally oblivious to anything except her own happiness.

      Poor Captain Bowen. Would he be very heartbroken?

      Would Mama have a fit of the vapours in church, as they stood waiting expectantly for the bride to appear and walk up the aisle?

      Would Papa have a stroke at the shame of it all? With a gasp she wondered if he would go charging after Felix, no doubt armed with his pair of revolvers. Good God, Papa might even shoot him! Captain Bowen was a soldier, too—why, he might even join Papa and shoot Felix, too! Sasha pressed a hand to her mouth as she envisaged murder and mayhem in the days to follow.

      Unless…she did as Georgia had suggested. She could quite literally step into Georgia’s shoes, and the wedding would go ahead, no one any the wiser. All would be as it should be, the bride would arrive on her father’s arm, and she would marry the groom. There would be peace and happiness. What had Georgia said? ‘…a perfectly perfect solution.’ Sasha’s lip trembled as she contemplated such an audacious plan. Could it be done? Would she, could she, possibly have the nerve to carry it off? Sasha chewed her lip, and surmised that it would only be for a day or two, until Georgia and Felix were married, just to keep the peace and avoid a tragic family scandal. For a moment or two she wondered how Reid would react and how it would affect his posting to St Petersburg. Did he desperately need to have a wife at his side? Surely it would not matter one way or another; besides, once he got to the Embassy and the Russian court there were bound to be plenty of beautiful young ladies only too willing to become his bride.

      Certainly Georgia’s madcap suggestion that she marry Reid in her place was going to be difficult to achieve, but in the circumstances she could see no other solution, none that would not bring dishonour and disgrace on both Reid, Georgia and the Packard family.

      Climbing out of bed again, Sasha tip-toed into Georgia’s bedroom. She lit a candle and then opened the door of the dressing room to stand and gaze at the spectacular frothy white creation of Georgia’s wedding gown. She felt the blood drain from her face as she wondered if she would indeed be able to fit into it. Georgia most definitely had a bigger bosom, but no doubt she could pad the bodice out with a few stockings if it gaped. And the hem would be too long, yet there was no time to alter it. But she could wear the shoes with the twoinch heels; with that in mind, she searched through the shoe rack until she found them. They were beige silk and did not exactly go with the dress, but with the length of it she hoped that no one would notice anyway.

      The plan began to form, and one link led to another as she hurried about in an attempt to cover every possibility. She made sure Georgia’s door was locked, as well as her own, and when Polly came knocking she would pretend that Georgia had had an attack of the nerves and would see no one except her own sister, Sasha. And then she would have to dash out and convince Mama that she would not be able to attend the wedding; after all, it would be impossible to play both bride and bridesmaid at the same time. But what possible excuse would Mama tolerate on this, the grandest day of her year, her life even? A cold or headache would not be enough, she was sure; it would have to be something nasty, something contagious.

      She had an idea and hurried to Georgia’s dressing table, reaching for a small bottle of lavender oil that had long been abandoned, as neither of them cared much for the scent and it had given Sasha a most unpleasant rash. Biting her lips, Sasha opened the vial and sprinkled a few drops on her forearms, rubbed it into her skin, and then her neck. Sure enough, within a few moments it began to burn and itch. Her nose tingled and she sneezed, and in a panic she rushed to the washstand, scrubbing with soap and water at her arms and neck. Not even for Georgia could she put herself through this! But it was too late; even though she had removed all traces of the lavender oil, her skin was indeed irritated and would take a few days to recover.

      The household was beginning to stir, the maids knocking on doors and delivering trays of tea, drawing back the curtains, the footmen bringing up shoes that had been polished the night before, and jugs of hot water for the guests’ morning ablutions.

      Sasha realised that she would not be able to dress herself unaided, there were far too many tiny hooks and eyes on the back of the wedding gown, and she would need Polly to help her put the veil on. She decided to take Polly into her confidence, and when the little maid arrived, she let her into Georgia’s room, locked the door behind her, and gave her a very brief summary of the night’s events, swearing a shocked, yet loyal, Polly to absolute secrecy.

      ‘Will I be in trouble, miss?’ asked a nervous Polly. ‘Jobs is hard to come by nowdays.’

      ‘Oh, no, Polly, don’t worry.’ Sasha hugged the young maid. ‘I will leave a note explaining everything, and that you had no idea whatsoever what was going on. Besides, you know the Brigadier and her ladyship well enough, they would never vent their wrath upon you.’

      The hardest part was to convince Victoria and Philippa that they could not come in. They wailed, and moaned, and made threats and promises in equal quantities if only they could please, please come in, just for a moment. Sasha was reduced to lying, making false promises that as soon as Georgia was ready they could come in to see her, but first they must go and enjoy a hearty breakfast to keep them going through the long day, and then get ready themselves.

      Her mother proved