“It’s a truly beautiful gown,” Lady Anne said. “When Mama was younger, she was almost as slender as you are.”
“It should require only a minimum of altering,” the duchess said.
“You love your son very much,” Kitty said softly.
“With all my heart. He is a good man, Miss Robertson. Sometimes good men behave quite naughtily, and I suspect, although he has not confided in me, that in this situation he might have done just that. You need not confirm or deny my suspicions as to the reasons for so hasty a wedding. But in the years to come, you will look back on the day when you exchanged vows with my son, and I should like very much that you not look back on them with regret.”
Tears stinging her eyes, Kitty pressed her hands to her mouth. “I’m so afraid I’ll do exactly that. Look back on my wedding with regret.”
The duchess bestowed on her a sympathetic smile. “I know, my dear. I think Richard fears that as well. So we must make the best of it all the way around, mustn’t we? May I send my girl over with the gown and have her see to making the alterations?”
Kitty thought that in the grand scheme of things what she wore on her wedding day was hardly worth considering, but if it would help to get her marriage off on the right foot…
She nodded. “Yes, please. I’ll be honored to wear it.”
The duchess beamed. “Splendid!”
Less than an hour after the duchess and Lady Anne had departed, Freddie Montague came to visit. Kitty hadn’t seen him since he’d left to inform Farthingham’s family of his death at sea. Although she’d paid her own respects to the family in the first few days following the drowning, she’d not seen Freddie at their residence.
It was comforting to be with him, walking through the garden, her arm crooked around his. In ways she couldn’t quite put her finger on, he reminded her of Farthingham—the sense of playfulness perhaps. Even though presently it was absent, she knew it still resided in him. Or at least she hoped it did. She would hate for them all to spend their lives melancholy because the sea had stolen their laughter.
Although she had no brothers, she thought the way she regarded Freddie was very much the way that a sister looked to an older brother—for comfort and support. With him, she felt as she did with Farthingham: safe.
She wondered if he’d consider marrying her and raising her child as his own. Yet even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew her plans were too far gone to change now.
“I keep thinking that I’ll turn a corner somewhere, and there he’ll be, waiting, smiling, teasing me,” she said quietly.
“I think we all tend to think that way when we lose someone who matters to us.”
“Will you write a play about him?”
“Probably not. Might write one about you, though. Your life is much more interesting.”
“My life would make the audience weep.”
“But it needn’t, Kitty.”
She looked up at him and met his kind, gray eyes.
“Farthingham wouldn’t want you to mourn,” he said. “He’d be pleased to know that you’ve moved on, that Weddington offered for you, and that you accepted.”
She shook her head. “Freddie, it’s barely been a month.”
“All the better. Life is far too short. Farthingham would be the first to tell you that. He’d not want you moping about.”
She narrowed her eyes at him before quickly averting her gaze in order to deliver her lie. “I’m not moping.”
“Yes, you are. Rumors abound that you’re not home to anyone. I was quite delighted that you deigned to see me.”
“Everyone is simply curious. They don’t truly care. I feel like an exhibit in the zoo.”
“All the more reason you must get out and about. Weddington will expect it.”
She released a brittle laugh. “Yes, well, he may find his expectations are not mine.”
“Then don’t marry him.”
She stopped abruptly and faced him. “I want to, and yet I don’t. I feel guilty, so soon after Farthingham’s death—”
He touched a gloved finger to her lips. “You mustn’t. I swear to you that Farthingham would be immensely gladdened by your decision to marry. He has the utmost respect and highest regard for Weddington.”
“Had,” she corrected. “He hasn’t anything anymore.”
“Quite right. Sometimes I forget he’s gone, and I find myself speaking as though he’s still here.”
She wound her arm around his again and began walking. “It’s all right. I do the same thing.”
“Still, although he is gone, I believe his sentiments would remain. He would be delighted beyond measure that you are to marry Weddington.”
“You don’t think it makes me appear disrespectful?”
“I don’t think you should worry overmuch about what people think.”
“I’ve spent my whole life worrying about it.”
“Then it’s high time you stopped.”
She squeezed his arm. “Farthingham would say the same thing. I’m going to miss you, Freddie, when you leave.”
“You’ll have to come to America to visit sometime.”
She smiled up at him. “Life’s ironies. I’m American and will make England my home. You’re English and will make America yours. When do you leave?”
“Not for a few more weeks.”
“Will you come to the wedding?”
Now, he was the one who smiled. “Weddington’s given me no choice. He’s asked me to stand as his best man.”
Again, she stopped, only this time it was to stare at him. “I would have thought he would have asked…” Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t certain whom he might have asked, but she’d thought it would have been someone with influence and power comparable to his. When she thought about it, however, she realized she knew none of his friends—other than Farthingham. She certainly hadn’t thought he was close enough to Freddie to ask him. She could do little more than shake her head in astonishment. “I’m surprised.”
“So I see. We’re not really close, he and I, but I suspect his selecting me had more to do with his wanting you to feel comfortable during the ceremony.”
Moving away from him, she dared to voice what she’d only whispered to herself at night. “I don’t want this marriage, Freddie. I really don’t. Why is he being so nice?”
“I suspect because he knows how you feel.”
“Maybe it’s guilt.”
“Why would you think that?”
“It was his boat. He consented to taking it out. With his experiences on the sea, he should have known better.”
“The storm deprived you of Farthingham. You mustn’t think otherwise. It’ll only add to your unhappiness.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Walking back to him, she patted his arm. “I’m glad you’ll be near me during the ceremony.”
“As am I.”
They began strolling again.
“May I ask you a question?” he asked.
“Of course,” she answered.
“You’ll continue yachting, won’t you?”
“I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Don’t let what happened to Farthingham detract from your joy of the sea.”
“I’m afraid losing Farthingham detracts from everything in my life.”
“But it needn’t.”
“Spoken like a man who has never lost anyone he cares about.”
“Spoken like a woman who doesn’t appreciate what she has.”
Spinning around she glared at him. “Why is everyone trying to convince me that Weddington is so wonderful?”
“It’s not my place, I know. It’s simply that Farthingham—”
“Would want me to be happy,” she snapped. “I know. If he wanted that, then he shouldn’t have goddamned died!”
Excusing herself, she left Freddie to stare after her while she made her way to the house. For the first time since the drowning, she was consumed with rage…for what Farthingham’
s carelessness and Weddington’s determination to win at all costs had wrought.
How could she ever forgive either of them?
Chapter 21
Her wedding day. Kitty could hardly believe the day had arrived or that the hour was rapidly approaching when she would leave for the church. Vows were to be exchanged at the fashionable hour of two-thirty. Afterward, her parents would have an afternoon tea for the guests, hosted at this house. Then she and Weddington would leave, and she didn’t want to think much about what would happen after that.
Bittersweet memories swamped her as Nancy prepared her hair, not for Farthingham as she’d often anticipated, but for Weddington. Richard. She supposed she should begin to think of him more personally. After all, her body knew him intimately.
When Nancy was finished only a few tendrils touched the nape of her neck, the remainder caught up in a very becoming fashion that Kitty thought would indeed look lovely when wreathed with orange blossoms and covered with the Honiton lace veil.
Then Nancy helped her slip on the wedding gown. “Oh, miss, it’s so beautiful,” Nancy said with reverence.
It was only then that Kitty peered into the mirror. The white satin-and-lace gown had been altered perfectly for her proportions. A long train of satin and lace beaded with tiny white pearls made her appear so elegant.
“Are you ready to see your father?” Nancy asked.
Looking past her reflection in the mirror to Nancy’s, Kitty tried to force her thoughts away from thoughts of Farthingham. “My father?”
“Yes, miss. He informed me that I was to send for him once you were ready. He wanted a few minutes with you before he accompanied you to the coach that the duke sent.”
Kitty pressed trembling fingers to her temple. “I can barely remember everything I’m supposed to do today.”
“Not to worry, miss. The duke gave me a list of instructions to follow, and he spoke to us all last night regarding what to expect today. He wants nothing to go awry.”
“Of course, he doesn’t,” she said distractedly. He didn’t like for things to interfere with his goals.
She turned away from the mirror, but couldn’t turn away from her doubts. “Yes, I’m ready to see my father.”
When he walked into the room, she dearly wished she wasn’t wearing clothing that constrained her movements, wished she could dash across the flooring and into his arms. He wore a dark blue morning coat, and although his hair was turning silver, she thought she’d never seen a more handsome man.
Unless it was the duke.
“My God, girl,” he said quietly, “aren’t you beautiful?”
Tears stung her eyes. “Oh, Papa, I love you so much.”
“No more than I love you, sweetheart.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He touched her cheek. “For what?”
“For mistakes I made.” She shook her head. “This isn’t exactly how I dreamed my wedding would be.”
“I don’t know that it’s going to be so awful, Kitty. Not many brides would have a day like I think this one is going to be.”
“I know.” Sniffing, she blinked back her tears. “It’s simply that I always thought you would be giving me over to Nicky’s keeping.” She shook her head. “I guess I simply miss him.”
“That’s understandable, girl.”
She licked her lips. “You’ve always been so good at judging men. What’s your impression of Weddington? As a man. I mean if he’d never compromised my reputation”—which she truly couldn’t put completely on his shoulders since she’d gone to the bathhouse and sought him out—“if you weren’t angry with him about that, what would your opinion of him be?”
“I like him. And God knows I tried not to. I was ready to skin him alive that night that he came to the house, but I think he’ll take good care of you.”
“You think he’s a good man, then?”
Her father grinned. “You think I’d give my consent to your marrying him if I thought he was a bad man?”
“No, I guess I’m simply nervous.”
“That makes two of us. Giving one of my girls away”—he shook his head—“it’s not going to be easy. Years ago, you were a gift to me and your mother. Unexpected, but definitely wanted. When your mother and I would have guests over, you’d sit on the stairs, peering into the parlor. I’d always find you there, and then we’d waltz with you standing on my feet, before I carried you back up to bed and tucked you in. I’d look down on you and think how lucky I was that you were my little girl. Now you’re grown-up, but you’re still my little girl. Today’s not going to change that.” He reached into his jacket and removed a velvet box. “Here’s a little something to help you remember that.”
“Oh, Papa, I’ll always remember.” Still, she took his gift, opened the box, and felt tears sting her eyes. “Oh, Papa, it’s beautiful.”
He removed the diamond necklace, slipped behind her, placed it around her neck, and clasped it in place.
She turned toward the mirror. “It’s perfect.” She turned back to him. “And thank you for loving me.”
“Sweetheart, that’s always been one of the greatest pleasures of me life. Loving you, Emily, and your mother.” He held out his arm. “Now, let’s go see if this duke of yours can appreciate you as much as I do.”
If not for Farthingham’s death, if not for her delicate condition, Kitty might have thought she were living in a fairy tale. Weddington had sent an open carriage for her. White, trimmed in gold, with four matching white horses, gorgeous creatures. In her lap rested the bouquet of orchids and white roses that had been delivered to her at the duke’s request.
Sitting beside her, her mother held her hand while her father and Emily sat opposite. Emily was going to lead the way into the church by tossing orange blossoms in Kitty’s path. Kitty would only have four bridesmaids, friends she’d made over the years, but not anyone to whom she was especially close. Perhaps she was more like Richard than she realized.
“Will you look at the stars tomorrow night, Kitty?” Emily asked. “We’ll be on the yacht.”
She smiled. “Of course, I will.”
“Are you certain you don’t mind us going to the Riviera for a while?” her mother asked.
“Of course not. I’ll be very busy adjusting to married life. When you return, I’ll have you over for dinner.”
“We wouldn’t leave if we thought you needed us, but often newly married couples can use some time alone.”
Which was the very last thing she wanted with Weddington. Still, she smiled at mother. “I’ll be fine.”
People were lining the streets, and as the carriage drew nearer to the church, she saw crowds swarming about. She knew people had an interest in seeing the participants of a fashionable wedding dressed in their finery. She was suddenly very glad that the duchess had suggested—rather insisted—that she dress in splendor for the occasion.
She glanced up at the sky. It was gloriously sunny, and she hoped that Freddie was right, that Nicky was looking down on her and smiling. Although it hurt, she smiled in fond remembrance of him and prepared to step out of the carriage.
Her gaze swept the crowd. Blond hair. A familiar smile. Gone in the blink of an eye.
Her heart stopped.
She frantically searched the crowds again.
“Kitty?” Her mother said from behind her. “Everyone’s waiting, dear. We need to get into the church.”
“I thought I saw Nicky.” She allowed the footman to help her down, and immediately walked with purpose toward the crowd in the churchyard, her gaze darting between people as she wended her way between the throng, ignoring the hands touching her, pulling on her.
“Kitty!” her mother called after her.
But she’d seen him. She was certain she’d seen him. His blond curling hair—
“Kitty!” her father demanded. “Let me through here.”
She’d seen him. There!
She rushed forward—
Only it wasn�
�t Nicky.
It was a man as tall as he was, as blond as he was…but the features were all wrong.
“Kitty.” Her father took her arm and turned her. “Whatever is the matter with you?”
She looked up into her father’s face, imploring him to understand. “I thought I saw Nicky.”
“Sweetheart, he’s dead.”
She nodded. “I know. I just…he had his smile.” She looked back to the man she’d thought was Nicky…only he didn’t have Nicky’s smile. How could she have mistaken him?
“We need to get into the church,” her father said.
“Yes, of course.” She glanced around once more, hesitant to leave, when the recognition had been so strong. She’d seen him, she was certain of it. But she couldn’t have. She knew that. Her head knew that. Her heart…she’d been looking with her heart…at the sky, the crowds…
She repeated that litany as her father led her toward the church, parting the crowds like a man accustomed to having his way. Over and over she repeated that only her heart had seen him, but the repetition couldn’t convince her that her eyes hadn’t seen him as well.
The guilt was making her see someone who no longer existed, the guilt because she’d turned to Richard so soon. The guilt because she was getting married to another man.
As she walked up the steps, she smiled in reassurance at her mother who was standing by the door.
“Kitty, are you all right?” her mother asked.
“Yes, I’m fine. Mama, I could have sworn I saw Nicky.”
“It was probably your heart seeing him.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure you’re right.”
But even as she said the words, she wasn’t convinced that she believed them.
Standing before the altar, Richard would have patted himself on the back for exercising unbelievable restraint in not removing his watch from his waistcoat pocket and verifying the time. He was fairly certain that he’d been waiting for the arrival of his bride much longer than he should have been. And judging by the tittering of those in the pews and the many people who continually darted quick glances over their shoulders, he wasn’t the only one thinking that it was taking an inordinate amount of time for Kitty to appear.
An Invitation to Seduction Page 23