Footfalls.
Her stomach sunk to her knees at the sight of Mr. Boyle, skittering through the flowers and bushes like a mouse evading a cat as he approached her. It wasn’t just Mr. Boyle’s actions that resembled a mouse, but his appearance as well. He was quite small—at least three inches shorter than Katherine but not nearly as narrow. He had small, dark eyes and a set of prominent teeth, which grinned up at her as he made his bows.
“Lady Katherine, how do you do?” His voice, little more than a squeak, became lost in the summer breeze that surrounded them.
She gave a polite smile from her place on the bench. Mr. Boyle never failed to invite himself onto the Chatham property, sneaking through the gardens as if he knew he was not welcome there.
“I am quite well, Mr. Boyle.” Kate scolded herself for coming to her favorite place in the gardens today. She should have known Mr. Boyle would find her there. He had found her there the day before. And the day before that. “What brings you to Silverbard, sir?” Her voice came out more exasperated than she intended, but she could not help it. Mr. Boyle had expressed his interest in courting her twice now, though he was at least twice her age. She did not know what else she could do to deter his attention. He was proving even more difficult to get rid of than the last insincere suitor that had come calling.
More difficult than the last ten, in fact.
Kate’s father had sent her to London the previous season, making society aware of the immense dowry tied to her name. Thirty thousand pounds was enough to draw a multitude of eligible men, yet Kate had still returned from London unattached. Much to her father’s dismay, she had not found a man she could ever love. She knew they were not interested in her heart—only her wealth. When word had spread around her home town of Sheffield of her dowry, and her father had successfully eliminated the entailment of his secondary properties, willing one of his largest estates to her, a whole new array of fortune-hunting suitors had begun their pursuit. It was, in a word, exhausting.
“‘Tis such a lovely estate, my lady. How interesting that you should be in possession of an estate called Silverbard when your surname is indeed, Golding. Yet you are more handsome and desirable than silver or gold.” Mr. Boyle’s beady eyes squinted in a smile, the sunlight beating down on his graying hair.
Kate pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at his attempt at flattery. She knew his words to be a complete lie. “You are too kind. You must stop or I shall begin thinking myself equivalent to a diamond.”
Mr. Boyle’s eyes widened, a ring of white surrounding the dark irises. “The most beautiful diamond in all of the world. Never have I beheld such lovely hair. ‘Tis the color of freshly baked bread, and your eyes are the color of emerald. Well, slightly lighter than emerald; perhaps an emerald that has been resting in the sunlight. It is a lovely sight when paired with your complexion. Many a freckle can be overcome by a set of enchanting eyes and a mane of shining hair.” Mr. Boyle extended his hand, his shaking, heavy-knuckled fingers coming toward her head.
Kate ducked away, standing abruptly from her place on the bench before Mr. Boyle could touch her hair. Why had she thought it wise to leave her bonnet inside?
Mr. Boyle retracted his paw, his front teeth slipping over his lower lip. “Ah. I suspect you wish to take a turn around the gardens with me?”
“Pardon me?” Kate couldn’t imagine how the man would view her abrupt standing as a subtle hint that she wanted to walk with him.
He gave a little laugh—a sound very nearly a giggle—before extending his arm to her. “I shall never tire of seeing the exquisite gardens of Silverbard.” He stared pointedly at his elbow when she hesitated to take it.
She released a quiet sigh of exasperation, casting her eyes downward as she rested her fingers lightly on his arm. To decline would be incredibly rude, and she was exhausted from her efforts to evade him.
“Of course, the gardens are made even more exquisite by your habitation of them, my lady.” He bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile.
She watched her feet as she walked, attempting to steer Mr. Boyle toward the back door of the house where she could make a hasty escape. As they passed a hedge near the door, a deep growling sounded from within before the furry head of her Skye Terrier, Freddy, came bursting through the dense leaves.
“Oh!” Mr. Boyle stumbled backward, tripping over a prominent root in the grass, which sent him sprawling onto the ground. Freddy leapt from the bushes, growling with renewed vigor. He leapt onto Mr. Boyle’s belly and offered his fiercest bark before jumping down. Mr. Boyle’s ample belly provided a nice spring to Freddy’s dismount.
Kate covered her mouth to hide the laughter that threatened to burst out of her composed expression. She scooped Freddy into her arms, holding his little head to her chest. He panted, stretching his neck to lick her cheek.
“Sir, I am so very sorry for my dog’s behavior.” Kate backed away from Mr. Boyle as he stood, anger fuming in his dark eyes.
“That is the most dreadful creature I have ever encountered!” He thrust his finger toward Freddy. When he noticed Kate’s look of dismay, he corrected his disheveled expression. “Er—well, I suppose it is not the most dreadful. I rather like the creature. It seems a lively sort of animal, very… energetic. Yes, energetic is the word I meant to say.”
Kate gave her most pleasant smile as she stroked Freddy’s thick gray fur. “He is my dearest friend, you know. He will always be my most treasured companion. I will never part with him.”
Mr. Boyle swallowed, pushing back the hair from his forehead that had become soaked with perspiration. “Never, my lady?”
“Never. Not now, not when I am married, not until the day little Freddy passes on, a day I wish not to dwell upon.”
Mr. Boyle nodded, a spark of motivation entering his eyes. “Do you envision yourself marrying soon?”
Kate bit her tongue. Why had she mentioned marriage in the presence of this man? He would take every word on the subject as encouragement. If only she could convince him that her dowry came on the condition of her marriage to a man below the age of forty, then perhaps he would leave her be. “Oh, Mr. Boyle. I have only recently made my bows in society. I am a mere eighteen years old.”
“Well, I daresay it is much better to marry now than become a spinster.”
Kate’s skin bristled with annoyance. She shifted Freddy to one arm, propping him on her hip. “I must be going now, Mr. Boyle.”
“So very soon? I only just arrived.”
Precisely.
“I’m afraid I took ill last week and have yet to recover.” She feigned a sneeze, burying it in the fur of her dog.
Mr. Boyle gasped. “I suspect you have an allergy to the little creature! For your own health, you must rid yourself of him.” He stumbled forward with outstretched arms, as if he meant to assist her in ridding herself of Freddy.
She skirted away. “I will never do that. For a dog makes a much better companion than a man.” Turning on her heel, she gave a resolute nod. “Good day, sir.”
He gave a huffed breath in response before stammering a quick, “Good day.”
Kate pushed through the back door, setting Freddy on the floor. He scampered away, his little claws clicking on the marble. She straightened her posture, drawing a breath deep into her lungs. How could she feel so stifled and trapped within such expansive walls?
Silverbard was the largest estate in the county, home of her father, the Duke of Chatham. Four stories tall with endless throngs of servants and property that stretched deep within the neighboring woods, it would never be described by anyone but herself as stifling. Her family also owned two other estates, one in Gravesend and one in Nottingham. Kate had never been to either, but she often dreamed of escaping Silverbard to one of the other estates, starting over in a new area of England where her inheritance was unknown. As her circumstances were at present, she could never trust any man’s intentions to marry her.
Her mother, Lady Chatham, sw
ept around the corner, a bright smile on her cheeks. “Katherine, my dear. Did I just see Mr. Boyle out the window?”
She swallowed, praying that her mother hadn’t witnessed Freddy’s attack on the man. “Indeed. But I sent him on his way.”
Her mother’s eyes rounded. “You… sent him on his way? How exactly did you do that?”
Kate cursed her tongue for claiming responsibility for Mr. Boyle’s departure. “He did not enjoy Freddy’s company and so… well, I explained in the most polite terms possible, I assure you, that I prefer Freddy’s company over his own, so it would be best if he left us.”
Her mother gasped. “Katherine!”
She wished she were still holding Freddy, so she could bury her face in his fur and avoid the disapproving stare of her mother.
“You cannot deter every suitor that comes calling.”
“And why not?” Kate felt her cheeks flushing. “You have said how greatly you detest fortune hunters. That is all these men are. They do not care for me and they never shall. All they care for is wealth and property. By marrying me they will be in possession of the largest allotment of land in the county. They will gain a quick thirty thousand pounds to their accounts as well.”
A sadness entered her mother’s eyes, a weight that Kate rarely saw. “One day a man will see you as the greatest prize.”
Kate shook her head. “How could he? Gold shines much brighter than I do.”
Her mother struggled for a response, but Kate didn’t need reassurance. She needed sympathy and understanding. She did not wish to be such a sought-after heiress. She did not wish to manage such large property. All she needed to be happy one day was true love, a comfortable living, and a dog on her lap. She did not wish for anything more.
“How is Papa faring?” Kate asked, happy to change the subject.
Her mother’s posture relaxed, as if discussing her husband’s declining health was a more pleasant topic than her daughter’s fortune. “He is well enough. He is bored, that is all. He has little to occupy his thoughts and time. The physician said he will likely survive this bout of illness just as he did the last time.”
An idea struck Kate. “Do you suppose Papa would like an excursion? To Gravesend, perhaps? I know he does not prefer his property there, but he has not been in years. I did hear the tenants have departed for the summer.”
Her mother pinched her lips together in thought. “I will speak with him on the matter. But I doubt he will be interested in leaving the comfort of Silverbard at this time.”
“Even if it will bring great joy to his daughter?”
Her mother raised one eyebrow. “And why would it bring you such great joy?”
Kate smiled, her thoughts running wild. “The people of Gravesend do not know of my dowry. If perchance there are any eligible men among the town, I will have an opportunity to socialize among them without sharing any knowledge of my inheritance. That way I may decipher if any man could hold true feelings for me.”
Straightening the pendant at her neck, Kate’s mother frowned. “We cannot possibly keep it a secret forever. And why should we? Your dowry and property will attract many wonderful suitors.”
“Such as Mr. Boyle?” Kate grimaced. “We must keep it a secret if we go, at least for a time. For my sake, please say you’ll try.”
“Kate—” Her mother closed her mouth, as if reconsidering her words. “Any man of sense will like to know what your financial situation is before beginning a courtship.”
“Then we… fabricate something?”
“Katherine!”
She bit her lower lip. “Very well, but we do not need to speak of it in such clear terms. There is no need for every man in Gravesend to know that I am an heiress of such proportions. That information ought only to be revealed in a marriage settlement between my suitor and Papa.”
Her mother heaved a sigh, the exhalation sending her neat curls to feather on her forehead. “I am fairly certain your father will not approve of the venture, but I will inquire nonetheless.”
Hope sprung within Kate, growing stronger by the second. “Thank you, Mama.”
Kate could hardly sleep in anticipation of her father’s response. Her mother had spoken with him and he had been rather indecisive on the matter. When Kate paid him a visit in his rooms the next day, however, he met her with an encouraging smile.
“Come in, my dear.” He was sitting up today, in a chair by the window. Her father had bouts of severe illness almost every year. It usually cleared by spring, but this year had been an exception. His coughing and discomfort had persisted through the melting of the snow, the blooming of the trees, and the enduring warmth of summer.
“I have reached a decision pertaining to your request.” His light eyes twinkled merrily. “Gravesend seems like a very welcome diversion. The change of scenery will do well to raise my spirits, and it will be even better to see you happy.”
Kate hadn’t expected such a ready response.
“I have heard that the Marquess of Aveley and his sons will be removing to Gravesend as well. His eldest, Lord Orsett, would be an excellent choice for you. I will ensure you are introduced upon our arrival.”
Kate’s heart sank.
“Lord Orsett will be drawn to your dowry, to be sure,” her father continued. “The younger son would be the less desirable choice, but he is also well respected. He will be in great need of marrying well, for he does not have property or fortune to inherit, but his connections are very agreeable. I daresay a match with either man would be admirable.”
Kate wrung her hands together, attempting to hide the disappointment on her face. “Do you suppose we might… keep my inheritance and dowry a secret upon our arrival?”
Her father’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, of course not. I already wrote to Lord Aveley concerning our arrival and my desire to have you introduced to his sons. They know of your sizeable inheritance.”
Kate took a step back. “Papa, please do not tell anyone else. I do not wish for a new swarm of suitors.”
He chuckled, a low and rattling sound. “How droll you are, Kate. Any woman in your position would be quite flattered to have so many suitors.”
“Not if they are in similitude to Mr. Boyle, and not if they only desire my fortune.” Her voice came out dull and quiet.
“Oh, Kate. I am certain one of these men will see you for the amiable and beautiful young woman that you are.”
Kate didn’t bother arguing with him. She cast her eyes down, her throat burning with tears of disappointment. She held them in.
Her father sighed, apparently sensing her dejection. “I am sorry, my dear. I know you do not like the attention, but your season in London did not get you any offer of marriage. The dowry is the most reliable way to draw suitors to you. I want to ensure you have a man to assist in managing Silverbard.”
“I understand, Papa.” Kate tried to brighten her voice. “At least it is just Lord Aveley and his sons that know of my dowry.”
Her father chuckled. “Yes, for now. Gossip spreads like fire in Gravesend. If nothing else, it will bring respect to our family. There is nothing to worry yourself over. We shall depart within the week. The servants are already busy preparing our trunks.”
Kate nodded and thanked him before trudging from the room. Her boots felt as if they had doubled in weight since entering her father’s bedchamber. All she had to look forward to was another multitude of Mr. Boyles.’ She could only hope that Gravesend had more to offer than that.
CHAPTER 3
By the end of his first week in Gravesend, Aiden had yet to find the opportunity to speak with the cordwainer in town. He had been to the market twice to make purchases for Lord Aveley, but had found the cordwainer busy with customers.
The property was far from being ready for guests, and Aiden had been working without rest for the entire week. He had managed to tame the kitchen and front property, but the other rooms of the house were still covered in dust. Lord Aveley wanted every piece of silv
er and every sconce polished, as well as the floor of the ballroom. Aiden was also required to feed the animals, cook for Lord Aveley and his sons, and assist them in their daily tasks. Aiden persisted and survived on the knowledge that one day he would be free of such responsibility. He would become a cordwainer, rent his own small house, and live in peace.
“Aiden!” Evan called, appearing above the staircase with a monstrously tied cravat. “Come tie this for me. I cannot do it myself.” He scowled down at the knot he had made.
Aiden set down the cloth he had been using to clear a spot of grime from the entry hall floor. He stood, his back aching. When he reached the top of the staircase, Evan dropped his hands, allowing Aiden to fix his cravat.
“It must be perfect,” he said, his chin turned upward.
Aiden felt one of his eyebrows raise. “Why do you require a perfect cravat today of all days?”
“The Heiress of Silverbard has arrived.”
“Heiress?” Aiden tugged on the fabric, twisting it into the shape he had been forced to perfect.
Evan rolled his eyes, as if Aiden should have been fully aware of this woman’s arrival. “Her father is the Duke of Chatham. She is to inherit his largest estate and has a sizeable dowry as well.” His eyes lit up like a predator approaching a helpless kill. “Her father would like her to become acquainted with Miles and me. I must be prepared to meet the family should I encounter them in town.”
Aiden finished the knot. “How fortunate for you.”
“Do not be so envious.” Evan grinned, touching a hand to his cravat with a pompous smile.
“I am not envious.”
Evan clicked his tongue. “And there is no need to be so defensive. Now go. Finish cleaning.”
Aiden turned around, making his way back down the stairs. When he was certain Evan had returned to the company of his looking glass, Aiden slipped out the front door. The sun was hot today, but his sunburnt skin had healed, leaving it a shade tanner than before, and several shades darker than his porcelain stepbrothers.
The Midnight Heiress (Once Upon a Regency Book 2) Page 2