The Accidental Elopement (Scandalous Miss Brightwells Book 4)
Page 1
The Accidental Elopement
Beverley Oakley
Part I
Copyright © 2017 by Beverley Oakley
All rights reserved.
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Chapter 1
Katherine wasn’t usually frightened of the dark.
And certainly not when she could still hear the strains of the lively polka she was supposed to be dancing with George.
However, as she felt her way along the dark corridor behind the ballroom of Lady Braxton’s London townhouse and the sounds of the orchestra grew fainter, some of the courage for which Katherine was renowned drained away.
For a moment she contemplated turning back.
However, returning to the dancing meant she’d have no choice but to partner her dreadful cousin and Katherine would rather frighten herself half to death in a deserted corridor than do that.
Except, she soon found to her dismay, that it wasn’t deserted.
And when she stumbled over a large, unidentified object and landed with a painful jarring of her wrists upon the cold, hard flagstones, she was sure she was about to be kidnapped by pirates and never see any of her loved ones, ever again.
Until she remembered that she was a young lady about to make her debut, and not a child any longer.
“Good Lord!” came a disembodied young male voice in the dark before a groping hand located a piece of Katherine—a carefully arranged ringlet of hair—which caused her to shriek even louder when it was quite unnecessarily tugged. Whether this was to establish who or what she was, she had no idea, and perhaps neither did the tugger, for immediately a profound apology was issued before the groping hand was operating with complete abandon in the dark.
It found Katherine’s breast just as the voice said in tones of utter mortification, “Forgive me! Are you hurt? Take my hand. Really, I can’t apologise enough.”
Katherine had made one unsuccessful attempt to stand, but it was a struggle in her flounced skirts and multiple petticoats. She swatted away the supposedly helping hand and hissed something unintelligible—since unladylike language seemed less of an offence when she couldn’t see to whom she was speaking.
But when the disembodied groping hand entered her orbit once more, in fact brushing the bare flesh above her garter and getting in a good squeeze of her thigh flesh, her temper, which had never been one of her strong points, snapped, and she lashed out with a sharp slice through the inky air.
A loud yelp made her realise she’d perhaps been a little peremptory and certainly too violent in this unladylike action, and even though she felt disinclined to apologise, she did say, ungraciously, “I’m sorry I hit you, but a lady can only take so much of all this groping in the dark. I mean…what were you doing?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” came the response, now at ear level. In fact, she could feel the soft whisper of breath against her cheek, which made her step back, saying, “I asked first.”
“I was chasing a cat. Bending down, in fact. And then suddenly something crashed into me. Or on top of me.”
“That was me.”
“Of course it was you. There’s no one else here, is there?”
Katherine bridled at his tone. She was unused to being found at fault. “Then how thoughtless it was of you to crouch down where anybody could simply crash into you.”
The response was whip-fast and enragingly superior. “Anybody—or rather, anybody else—would be carrying a candle. I think I have every reason to be deeply suspicious of the motives of anyone who is not.”
“Well, you don’t have a candle. And I would suspect the truth of anyone hiding away in the dark, claiming they were crouching over an imaginary cat,” huffed Katherine, smoothing her skirts. “In fact, I’d wager there was no cat here at all. No, you were sneaking away from something, weren’t you?”
“And if I was, what business is it of yours? Whoever you are.”
Katherine could not imagine the audacity. “I could ask the same question. You certainly are no gentleman to speak to a lady in that fashion.”
“Since that lady hasn’t bothered to declare herself, I think I could be forgiven.”
“A gentleman would have declared himself first,” Katherine said hotly. “What were you sidling away from? There’s a noisy ball going on in the next room. If you were a gentleman, wouldn’t you be gallantly asking the ladies to dance instead of hiding in the dark? Perhaps there’s someone you’re afraid of seeing? A lady who has expectations of you behaving towards her as a gentleman would.” Katherine said this triumphantly before elaborating on her theme. “My guess is that you’ve given some poor young lady the idea that you’ll dance with her all night, and now you’ve changed your mind and are sneaking away.”
“And I’d suggest you’re trying to sneak away from a gentleman to whom you’ve already promised two dances. Meanwhile he, poor fellow, is searching for you vainly in the ballroom while you’re here making a mockery of him.”
“He can do that all by himself,” Katherine sniffed. “But I never promised him anything, and I never will.”
“Ha! I was right.” The anonymous young gentleman sounded very pleased with himself. “Well, I feel sorry for this chap without even seeing what you look like, miss. Poor fellow!”
“Poor fellow, indeed. George can pine til the cows come home. I’d even suffer talking to you than have to spend another five minutes with his sweating hands squeezing mine and his cow eyes boring into me…and his horrible, putrid breath choking me and his—”
“Poor George! I was just starting to feel sorry for him until you described the exact George I, too, am so at pains to avoid tonight.” The voice became more confidential, and the mood relaxed.
“Well, you have described my cousin to a very fine point.” Katherine laughed. “And if you are as well acquainted with him as you seem to be, then you obviously know exactly why I am here in the dark.”
There was a small silence. And then, “Your cousin?”
“Yes, my Cousin George.”
“George…who?”
“Lord Quamby’s son. Lord Quamby is married to my Aunt Antoinette who’s the sister of my mother who—“
“I know exactly who you’re talking about. And we’re talking about the same George!” The voice sounded stunned.
A quick gasp from both of them was followed up by a delighted cry in unison.
“Jack!”
“Katherine!”
Katherine laughed at the ludicrousness of it. “I can’t believe it’s really you, Jack!” When the seeking hand came in contact with her cheek, Katherine gripped his wrist to hold it in place as she raised her hand to feel for his face.
Of course, it was terribly unladylike behaviour, and had there not been the mantle of darkness lending their reunion such an air of unreality, she’d not have been nearly so forward. But, with their hands on respective cheeks and around waists, such a greeting seemed quite natural.
“I can’t believe it’s you, Jack. I haven’t seen you for five years, and I certainly didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
“That’s because my mother is visiting Quamby House, but as we arrived late, she decided to remain at home while I said I needed activity after the long drive.”
“Mama said nothing about you coming. I knew she was expecting visitors and I do remember her mentioning your parents, but then she said you’d n
ot be accompanying them so I lost interest, and in fact didn’t even consider the visit might be this weekend.”
“You lost interest? Do you mean you were interested before?”
“Of course!” Katherine laughed. “I wanted to see if I could still make you do whatever I told you to, now that you were grown.”
He laughed too. Katherine had been notorious for sending Jack on all sorts of errands when he was just the foundling child visiting Quamby House before he was adopted by the well-to-do Eliza and Rufus Patmore. She and Jack had spent a great deal of time together as children before Jack had left the district with his parents. Katherine’s last visit to Patmore Farm had been when she was twelve.
“Is that what you thought, eh?”
“I could always make you do what I wanted you to, Jack.” She heard the edge of wickedness to her tone and tensed in expectation of having her hair pulled. There’d been a lot of chasing and tumbling on the ground when Katherine had been seven and Jack eight. Even during that last visit, when she’d been on the cusp of adolescence, seeing Jack again was like having a lamp turned on, warming the little heart that was in danger of becoming too caught up with adult cares.
“You’ll never know, will you?”
“Are you daring me?”
“Of course.”
Katherine thought. She ran her hand over his cheek, the pads of her fingers keenly attuned to the light dusting of stubble. Then she slowly contoured his jawline. She felt him shudder slightly though he didn’t move. With a flat hand, she gently contoured his shoulder line. It was a broader shoulder than she remembered. The cloth of his well-cut coat was smooth and rough at the same time, and she felt the sharp line of his collar.
He seemed to hold himself rigid. Rapt. She was sure a small sigh of disappointment escaped him when she removed her hands.
“All right, but you must promise you will do as I say before I tell you what you must do.”
“Hmm.” She felt his breath in the cold air between them, and her mouth stretched into a smile of anticipation as she waited for him to reply. Jack had been her willing slave, fulfilling her every demand with the utmost good humour until he’d reach a point where he’d declare his chivalry was at an end and she could ask until the cows came home, but he’d not pick another apple or climb to the highest branch of the fir tree at the bottom of the garden of Quamby House before his next visit from the foundling home.
“I’m afraid I’m old enough and wise enough to no longer agree to carry out promises that are not reasonable ones. You taught me a lot, Katherine, including that I must be wary of what I promise. Otherwise, I could end up plunging my hand into a basket of spiders or a hornet’s nest.”
“I never made you thrust your hands into a hornet’s nest!” Katherine was indignant.
“But you did have me thrust my hands into a basket full of spiders. I do remember that.”
Katherine remembered it well. It had been at the pinnacle of her power when she was eight and Jack was going through a stage of wanting to prove how brave and strong he was. This was just after the Patmores had adopted him. “All right. What if I promised that my request would be something I knew would be good for you. What if I said that, like you, I’m no longer a foolish child but an adult of good sense who would only order you to do something that I knew you would not regret, or cause you harm.”
“Hmmm.” The considering tone came again. “Yet you want me to first of all promise you that I will do the thing you request of me.”
“Yes. I’ve never done you harm. So it’s not an unreasonable request, is it?”
“Knowing you as I do, it’s not unreasonable at all. And taking very large risks is something I pledged I’d always be prepared to do for you, right from when I was a boy. You know I’ve always been your slave, fair Katherine, so yes, I will promise to carry out this request, or at least attempt to. And now I wait in anticipation to hear what it is. Even if it means going back into the ballroom and being chums again with Young George, which I know I should be. He’s not a bad fellow, but tonight I think he’s out of his depth. He doesn’t know how to behave when he’s all at sea and then he becomes quite ridiculous.”
“I won’t send you back to George.” Katherine smiled into the dark, her heart starting to hammer as she considered the very big request she was about to make of him. It hadn’t occurred to her until just this moment, but the intimacy between them, based as it was on a lifelong friendship, didn’t make it seem outrageous in the slightest. “I want you to kiss me.”
“Kiss you?” He laughed. “That’s very brazen. Can I first ask you why? You haven’t seen me for five years. I might have ghastly spots all over my face, and lost my front teeth and likely cause shivers of revulsion to run down your spine if you were observing me in the lamplight right now. Why, I might even be more unprepossessing than Young George.”
“I don’t think that’s possible. But, have you?”
“What?”
“Got spots all over your face.”
“I’m not going to tell you. That’ll mean you’re the one taking all the risks. I’ve just warned you of the potential dangers, and now you have to think the worst while I kiss you so that you can hold firm to your dignity and control your horror when we both get into the light again.”
Before Katherine had a chance to reconsider, she felt the tips of his fingers lightly brush her cheeks before he cupped her face. Her breath caught in her throat while the blood rushed to her head causing pins and needles along the way. Too intrigued by her body’s alien responses, she wasn’t going to back out now.
After a second’s agonising anticipation, his lips gently touched hers.
It was as if a thousand butterflies had been unleashed in the dark. Katherine was enthralled. This was much nicer than she’d expected. Jack’s strong young body felt like a rock of sanctuary in the darkness when she’d felt as out of her depth in the ballroom as Jack had just suggested George felt. She twined her arms behind Jack’s neck, eager to deepen the kiss as his tongue gently breached the seam of her lips. He smelt nice: of pepper and sandalwood soap overlaid by the familiar smell that was just him. Katherine shivered, opening her mouth wider as the sensory delight grew more intense.
Too soon, he stopped and, with a sigh, Katherine sagged slightly as he drew back, his hands clasping hers and squeezing them in the dark.
“You did that so well,” she told him approvingly. “Have you done it much before?”
“A few times.” He paused. “But I never enjoyed it as much as this time.”
“Is it very different kissing different people?”
“You’ve never kissed anyone, I take it?”
“No. That’s why I asked you to do it. So I’d know what to expect. I’m going to London in a month to be presented, and Mama and Aunt Antoinette have been drilling me like sergeant majors on how to make the most of myself in order to make the best match I can.”
“You always were ambitious, my dear Katherine.”
There was something about the way he used the familiar term that made her feel quivery all the way down to her feet.
“I just know what I’m worth.” She said it in a proud, haughty tone, but she was smiling. “That’s what Antoinette says I must think every time I weigh up an offer.” She giggled. “You’d remember my aunt, of course!”
“Lord, how could I forget the redoubtable, scandalous Lady Quamby. Your mother and her sister were the ton’s reigning beauties.”
“And don’t you dare suggest in front of them that they’re anything less, today,” Katherine teased.
“As a gentleman, I am well versed in tact.”
“You always were. And now I really should return else Mama will tear strips off me. I’ve been gone far too long as it is.” She put her hand on the cold plastered wall and half turned. “Are you coming?”
“I think I’ll make my departure now and find a hackney to take me to Quamby House. I expect I’ll find Mama will still be up playing cards with t
he earl. He was very delighted to see her again, and not the slightest bit disappointed that Uncle Rufus couldn’t accompany her. Lots of stories to share.” He paused. “Unless you’d like me to return to the ballroom with you.”
Katherine considered then shook her head, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “No, I’ll go alone. You can be my special secret. I’d rather no one knew we’d stumbled upon each other here in the dark when we meet back at Quamby House tonight.”
His soft chuckle followed her as she groped her way back to the bright lights of the ballroom. And it sustained her with a happy internal glow as Young George’s face lit up when he encountered her at the supper table.
“You look very pleased with yourself, Katherine,” he remarked, touching her elbow. “Anticipating the final dance of the evening with me?”
Katherine sighed but kept her smile in place. “All right, George. If that’ll please you.”
Her lips were still thrumming with pleasurable delight at the memory of Jack’s kiss, but now the idea of being in George’s cloying waltz hold would remind her of how important it was to find herself a husband who made her feel the excitement and pleasure Jack’s touch inspired, rather than the weary resignation she felt being with George.
Chapter 2
Katherine wasn’t sorry when it was time to leave the ball. But it was only a country affair, she supposed. London would be so much more exciting.
“Darling, you weren’t very kind to Cousin George when you haven’t seen him in such a long time,” Katherine’s mother said under her breath as she followed her daughter and sister into the carriage, tucking aside her blue silk skirts as the door was closed. The gentlemen, who had stayed on to finish their game of cards, would be coming later in the barouche.
“It takes more than plain speaking for George to get the message,” Aunt Antoinette said breezily as she arranged her voluptuous, shapely frame against the far side of the carriage. She smiled as she toyed with the feathers of her headdress. “My poor son can be rather a buffoon when he’s had a couple too many as he clearly has had tonight.”