The Accidental Elopement (Scandalous Miss Brightwells Book 4)

by Beverley Oakley

  “Shall we repair to the living room?” Lady Fenton asked. At least she didn’t look at Jack as if he were the devil incarnate. He was very conscious of Lord Derry’s glower and George and Odette’s tempered suspicion. But, of course Katherine’s explanation was perfectly logical—he thought so anyway, though perhaps that was because he wasn’t thinking as clearly as he had been before the kiss. Nevertheless, Odette, fortunately, was soon in fine spirits, clinging to his arm as they went back to the warm, brightly lit room he’d quit only moments before.

  Everything felt like a dream. Like he’d been tugged back to the past; his body responding to the lingering reminder of that kiss like a drowning man clings to the rock that is his salvation.

  Except that such a notion was ridiculous. Odette was his salvation. Katherine was his friend. The friend he thought he loved until she’d demonstrated through her own actions that expediency and impulse trumped everything, including love, in the face of an enforced separation.

  Katherine wished that the exodus from the library included Lord Derry, and that she could again be subsumed by the darkness she’d enjoyed before she’d been interrupted. So beautifully, joyously, interrupted. It truly had been like a dream, literally falling into the arms of the man she loved.

  This was very clear to her now. She always had loved Jack, but she’d married the wrong man. She was free now, but Jack was not.

  And yet, how could he have responded to her with such ardour if he didn’t share her feelings? He wasn’t married to Odette yet.

  In the few seconds it took Lord Derry to cross the room from having seen the others out of it, Katherine reflected on every nuanced expression that had crossed Jack’s face during the seconds he was exposed by the light. Surprise, wonder, delight. Hope. Yes, there’d been hope before Miss Worthington had extinguished it with that proprietorial little hand of hers clutching his arm and drawing him back into her orbit.

  But what had come before was more telling. He had clung to Katherine with the ardour of a man who suddenly realises he’s found what he’d lost. Jack realised in those few seconds in the dark what he really had lost. Katherine was sure of it.

  Hope now fluttered in her breast. She needed to speak with him, alone, frankly. While there was time.

  “My dear Katherine, so we are alone at last.” Lord Derry strode across the Aubusson carpet and gripped her shoulders. An unwelcome, proprietorial grip; unlike Jack’s. His gaze was smouldering, his nostrils flaring as if something was bottled up inside, ready to be released into smiling goodwill at the merest sign from Katherine. Or perhaps, no sign at all. He wanted her. He’d wanted her for seven years, and now he thought she’d be his.

  But he was wrong. She could be no one but Jack’s. Tonight had made that clearer than anything had before.

  When she said nothing, he went on, his tone dropping suggestively, “I was told you’d repaired to your room and were sleeping. I wish I’d known you’d fallen asleep here. It would have made the past hour I’ve spent in inanities with your cousin a great deal more pleasurable. And then you were interrupted by that interloper.”

  “Jack?” She was indignant he’d call Jack an interloper.

  “Is that his name? I’d forgotten. A foundling made good. But now we have a few moments together, and I think the time has come to establish the understanding we have and make plans accordingly.”

  Katherine stiffened. “With all due respect, Lord Derry, we do not have an understanding.”

  He tilted his head, a frisson of temper marring the warmth of his expression before he was again all smiles. Clearly, Katherine was like a filly who needed to be properly managed. Lord Derry was very fond of using his love of horses to make such analogies though, in truth, he wasn’t a bad man. He wasn’t a philanderer or a drunkard or a gambler like Freddy had been.

  “In a few months, your year of mourning will be at an end and you can respectably remarry.” He drew her closer. “I want to reassure you that I’m not just playing with your affections, my dear. I want to make it very clear that it’s an honourable marriage I have in mind.” He cleared his throat. “Just in case you feared my notions may have been less gentlemanly, though there’s no reason why we cannot enjoy a little more licence if the ultimate intent is respectable matrimony.”

  Katherine stepped back and broke his grip. “I’m sorry, Lord Derry, but we have no understanding,” she repeated.

  She was glad of the proximity of her family in the drawing room just along the passageway, for the spasm of displeasure that crossed his face was not one she’d have felt comfortable with managing had she been alone. “If I have led you to believe otherwise, then it is regrettable; however, I have no wish to marry you.”

  He would have pulled her back to him except that Katherine was too nimble, gliding out of his reach and opening the door that protected her from any further unwelcome advances by the sound of voices issuing into the room from further up the passage.

  With a cultivated smile, she made her way back to the drawing room, self-conscious enough that she did not seek out Jack, but rather allowed herself to be waylaid by George, who assiduously looked to her comfort by brandishing a glass of claret.

  Grateful, she sank onto the sofa and he took up position beside her, saying, “My dear Katherine, you look flushed. You’re not coming down with something, I hope. I fear falling asleep in the library is not a good sign of your health.”

  Except that falling asleep was the best thing Katherine could have done. Her body was singing. Jack would never have taken her in his arms and kissed her had he known she was there. She slanted a look across at him. Odette was chattering, rapidly and with great enthusiasm and vivacity as was her wont, Katherine realised. And Jack was staring at her—mesmerised as Odette no doubt thought him, only Katherine knew that look too well: boredom, a glazed, interested look he was able to plaster on his face so that his thoughts could travel their own way. No, Jack did not love Odette like he loved Katherine. But he needed to be given the chance to act on his real feelings. Did he know that he loved her? Surely, their kiss had made it clear?

  Odette was a fierce opponent, and Katherine needed to gauge the opposition.

  When the opportunity arose, she swapped places with George, artfully introducing a topic that enabled Katherine to engage Odette in interested conversation while the men discussed their latest horseflesh. And on this topic, Jack was a master. A horse had brought his adoptive parents together, and he’d had many a faithful mount when in Bombay. The moment he made mention of his latest steed the men huddled closer.

  “Who will win the Lancashire Derby?” asked Lord Derry, with a nod to Jack’s superior knowledge in that field.

  Meanwhile, Katherine was on the sofa beside Odette now, and she asked, “I believe you met Jack in Bombay. When did you travel over?” Odette might be in love with him, but she did not have the devotion of a lifetime behind her. There were less than six weeks to their wedding and Katherine’s mission was a difficult one, but she had to use whatever she had at her disposal to tip the balance in her favour.

  She hoped Odette didn’t notice the way her gaze slid to Jack’s face. She loved his animation. His expression was so malleable, unlike many men’s. Freddy had had a few stock expressions she’d come to know well: boredom, avarice, lust, and discontent. But Jack seemed to pulse with life. She’d forgotten that about him. Perhaps because she’d taken it for granted that men displayed enthusiasm on topics of importance. Freddy had found little that he considered of importance unless it was lining his pockets with another ill-fated venture, or showing Katherine he was master. Not that he was overtly cruel, and never physically. He just had a habit of being cynical and dismissive about most of what Katherine cared about.

  Miss Worthington tipped back her swanlike neck and fluttered her eyelashes at the ceiling before swivelling her glance back to meet Katherine, hesitating en route to take in Jack.

  So, she was more vigilant than she’d like others to realise. Katherine wou
ld have to remember that.

  “My father worked for the East India Company, and he took Jack on in the early days when Jack was just a lowly clerk. I loved him then, too,” she said, artlessly. “And you?”

  She might have been asking if Katherine loved him too, but Katherine merely said, “Jack visited the home of my uncle, Earl Quamby, when we were children, to be playmate to my cousin George. In those days, George could be a fiend to us both, though Jack seemed to know how to manage him.” She dressed it up lightly. “Jack and I became allies, and I was sad to see him leave for so long, but now he’s home I hope we’ll see more of you both.” What else could she be but welcoming? It was the only way to ensure Odette was not on her guard where Katherine was concerned.

  For she needed to be.

  She glanced over at Jack at the very moment he glanced in her direction. Something in his look made her heart still, but she was on parade. Odette’s instincts would be easily aroused, and even one unguarded look could be enough to destroy any further chance of Katherine gaining access to Jack, either alone or with his betrothed.

  So Katherine tossed her head, in an attempt to deflect the look, and clasped Odette’s wrist warmly, saying, “My aunt is having a house party next weekend and Jack’s parents will be there, so of course you and Jack are invited.”

  She was relieved when the party broke up shortly after Odette had accepted. Exhausted by the nervous energy she’d expended in appearing unaffected when every nuanced look at or by Jack made her heart pound and her palms clammy, she nodded to the remaining gentlemen after Jack and Odette and her chaperone had departed.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I shall retire for the night.” She barely smiled in Lord Derry’s direction, though she was sure she must have as she passed through the door. It would be a mistake to set up his bristles but, really, he was suddenly of so little consequence, she barely gave him a thought as she trod lightly up the passageway, her heart singing as she relived, again and again, the kiss in the darkness she’d shared with Jack.

  Katherine would have done well to have considered Lord Derry’s feelings a little more. He was positively seething as he accepted a brandy from George after the rest of the household had retired.

  “It’s your cousin,” he responded after George asked him why he was looking so hangdog. “She says we have no agreement.”

  “No agreement? Why, she’s going to marry you, old fellow. Her reputation depends upon it.”

  “Apparently not.” Lord Derry began to pace, the contents of his glass sloshing against the side before he downed the drink in one go before pouring another. “By God, I’ve waited a long time. Seven years! And now she’s going to slip out of my fingers.”

  George shrugged. “Sometimes one has to accept a hopeless cause. Not worth the trouble, I’d say.”

  Lord Derry’s nostrils flared as he glared at George. He must have consumed a great deal for he was not usually prone to such agitation. “I don’t admit defeat so easily.” His breathing was rapid. “There must be some way to persuade her.” He glanced up suddenly. “You don’t suppose there’s someone else?”

  “Not that I’ve heard of.” George refilled Derry’s glass. “Come along, old chap. No need to get all maudlin. You’ll find another girl with spirit who’ll suit you even better.”

  “I don’t want another. I want Katherine. And I want to vanquish that damned spirit of hers!” He closed his eyes and his shoulders slumped. “That’s not true. I want to make her happy. I know I can.”

  George patted his shoulder. “I’m sure you can. And you will.”

  “Katherine is devoted to her parents.” Derry sounded gloomier than ever. “Despite the fact Freddy left her with nothing except debts, she has her parents’ support, so she has no need to get married.”

  George nodded, considering. “But Katherine is…impulsive. Wayward. Katherine needs bringing into line. Devoted, her family may be, but they think it, too. A discontented widow is more of a wild card than an impulsive debutante who’s still under the authority of her parent.”

  He went on. “As a widow, Katherine answers only to herself. She can do what she wants to please herself and there’s not a damned thing her family can do about it.”

  “But you’re family. Or at least, you’re the son of that aunt she’s so devoted to. Surely you can help me?”

  George felt a rare jolt of pleasure at the hopeful, interested look Derry was directing at him. As if George had sway and influence.

  Yes, Derry was looking to him to influence matters. Just as Marwick had all those years ago.

  He rolled his shoulders. George still felt guilty at interfering to make the terms of the wager in Boodles Better book so attractive for encouraging an elopement between Marwick and Katherine but Katherine had kissed Marwick. George knew she had. And almost straight afterwards she’d made clear her aversion to doing anything similar with George so she might as well have married Marwick if she was so willing to trade her favours, he’d thought at the time.

  But he was sorry Marwick had turned out such a blackguard. Sorry for Katherine. He truly was.

  Derry was a different piece altogether. He was a decent chap and he clearly thought a great deal of George’s ability to set wheels in motion.

  He puffed out his chest. “Yes, she takes what my dear mama has to say very seriously but there is someone else, I believe, who might have greater influence in seeing Katherine sensibly married.”

  A wonderful thought had just come to him. A drift of memory when his mother had recounted Katherine’s dismay at the fact the late Freddy Marwick had given his own mother such an influential role in her granddaughter, Diana’s upbringing.

  As far as George could tell, Lady Hale had shown not the slightest interest in her granddaughter. But that was because Lady Hale had no interest in anyone other than herself. George had heard Katherine say this often.

  Derry’s attention had drifted. His eyes looked glazed and his shoulders slumped. “It’s no good,” he muttered. “I can hardly force Katherine if she has no wish to wed me.”

  “What about the money Freddy borrowed?”

  Derry shrugged. “Lord, I’m not the blackguard Freddy was! He made her beg and I couldn’t resist her. I can afford to lose what I lent him and I’d not press her on that. Blackmail? That’s not my game.”

  “Didn’t mean to suggest blackmail as your only recourse, old chap,” George assured him while the cogs in his brain were working along these very tracks.

  George wouldn’t resort to blackmail, either.

  But Lady Hale just might.

  Chapter 19

  There was a lightness in Katherine’s step that she hadn’t felt for years as she entered the conservatory where her aunt, her mother and Mrs Patmore, Jack’s adoptive mother, were having tea the following morning.

  Katherine had heard that her aunt and mother had initially disliked Eliza Patmore, but then she’d rescued Katherine and her cousins, and Jack, from drowning. At the time, Eliza Patmore had been betrothed to Young George’s disreputable uncle, George Bramley, until they’d persuaded her of the merits of marrying handsome Mr Rufus Patmore. At least, that was the story Katherine remembered having heard.

  And now she was standing before that still very lovely looking woman with her sculpted blonde hair and perfect bone structure, hoping with all her might that she might one day call her mother-in-law. There was a delicate line to navigate, but surely if Katherine’s heart and Jack’s were as one, they could finally be together—just as they were meant to be all those years ago?

  “Ah, Katherine, we were just talking about you,” her mother said, patting the seat beside her in invitation. “I’m glad you seem finally to be emerging from your gloom of the past few days. Of course you must mourn your husband, but common sense must guide you.”

  She was referring to the disastrous evening at Lady Garwood’s when Katherine had appeared in widow’s weeds, learned that Jack was betrothed to another, and had her own reputation sull
ied by Lord Derry’s overly familiar attentions.

  She pushed back her shoulders and smiled brightly. All could be overcome. Jack just needed to know how Katherine felt about him, and then he could admit that his feelings matched hers and he’d do the honourable thing towards Odette—which would be not to marry her if his heart was elsewhere engaged.

  “Of course, Mama. Perhaps I’m happier now that Jack has returned.” There, she would use subtlety where she could over the next few days to make her feelings clear for Jack, and that way, there’d be no surprises or horror when Jack and Odette’s betrothal was dissolved, and Katherine became his new bride-to-be. It might have happened seven years ago if Katherine had been as wise as she was now.

  “That holds true for all of us,” Mrs Patmore said with a smile. “I could never have imagined my darling boy leaving us for so long.”

  “Or coming back with a bride,” said Katherine, preparing her next line. “Or rather, bride-to-be. However, I wonder if…” She was about to suggest an element of doubt over Odette’s qualification if only in terms of there being a contender for Jack’s affections. No, Katherine would not be underhand, of course. But she had to win. She and Jack loved each other. It was only right that they be together, and while she didn’t like the thought of being the cause of Miss Worthington’s disappointed hopes, all was fair and love and war, didn’t they say?

  “Ah, poor Miss Worthington; I hear her father’s health took a turn for the worse last night,” said Aunt Antoinette, shaking her head. “I doubt they’ll manage to the house party next weekend.”

  “I’m sure Mr Worthington will be better by then,” Katherine said brightly, sitting down and not willing to entertain the thought of there being a reason why Jack mightn’t be able to spend a full three days under this roof. The very idea of being alone with him made her skin prickle with anticipation.

  “Oh no, my dear, Mr Worthington is not expected to improve. Did you know he’s dying?” Fanny’s mother looked suitably gloomy. “There’s even been talk of bringing forward Jack and Miss Worthington’s nuptials in case he doesn’t make their currently proposed date.”