“It’s not like you blurt it out in the first conversation, but you have a habit, as you progress your acquaintance, of ensuring that people know the Patmores are your adoptive family and that you are an orphan. And then, if they ask, you furnish them with details of coming from a foundling home, Jack.” She put her hand on his sleeve and obviously tried to look ameliorating. “I don’t mind admitting that I cried myself to sleep when I learned the truth months after I’d fallen in love with you—”
“You never said, Odette.” His words sounded cold even to his own ears. It was not like him, but a great hardness towards her was welling up inside him. Her words sounded like a terrible betrayal, even though he knew it shouldn’t since she’d simply offered him the truth and still professed to love him, as she once again reiterated.
“You know my heart belongs to you, irrespective of all that,” she said urgently, gripping his lapel. “Yes, I worry about our children and how society will judge them, and that’s a truth I’m both ashamed to admit—for your sake—but which I think is only natural. But wouldn’t you rather the truth, Jack?”
He stared at the heartfelt look in her eyes and found no answering surge of feeling. He’d have expected to feel a great warmth at her honesty for hadn’t she been brave in admitting that when she must have known it would have been unpalatable to him?
Swallowing down his disappointment, he lightly squeezed the hand she thrust into his. She was desperate for his acceptance of all she’d said, and if they were to be married—as they inevitably would be—he had to exonerate and forgive her for feelings they both might not like. The most important thing was that she’d admitted the truth and the truth trumped all.
“Thank you for being so honest, Odette,” he said, forcing himself to smile. “If I could have given you my name, I would have. I am proud of the name Patmore and the lineage. But it isn’t mine.” Saying the words aloud was more painful than he could possibly have imagined. He closed his eyes. “I shall, however, endeavour not to embarrass you with my candour when I go out and about in society, but nor shall I dress up the truth with lies.”
“Oh, Jack—”
Her words ended in a squeak as the carriage went into a deep rut, sending them swaying perilously to the side before it righted itself and continued. But the pile of rugs on the opposite seat had fallen to the floor, and Jack was about to reach out to pick one up to put over Odette’s knees when out of the woollen layers emerged a little head.
“Oh!” said a little girl, staring wide-eyed at them from the floor.
Odette gasped while Jack exclaimed, “Diana, what are you doing here?”
She rubbed her eyes. “I was sleeping.”
Odette leaned forward to peer closer. “Diana! You naughty child! You shouldn’t be here.” She sounded so cross, whereas Jack felt only a great affinity with the child whose chatter he’d found quite endearing on several occasions. She reminded him so much of her mother when Katherine had been a child.
“I am not naughty. I was sleeping,” said the little girl, staring at Odette with a rather challenging look.
“But why…in our carriage?” Odette demanded.
Diana stuck out her chin. “Running away from my grandmother. Where is she? I don’t want to have to go to her house like she said.”
Jack smiled. “I think you’re safe enough since Lady Hale is having lunch at Lord Quamby’s residence, and we are a good one and a half hours away from London.”
“What on earth are we going to do with the child?” Odette threw up her hands before rounding on Diana. “Do you know what an inconvenience you’ve created? We’re exactly halfway between London and where we’re going. Now what do we do with you?”
Katherine had just put her knife and fork together and was listening to Derry waxing lyrical on the state of the sharemarket when Lady Hale reentered the room with a look of great consternation. The fact that Besty, Diana’s nursemaid, was right behind her looking flustered was what made her own fears rise up in a way that Lady Hale’s ill temper alone could not have done.
“My granddaughter has completely disappeared. Are you hiding her from me?” Lady Hale demanded as Betsy corroborated, “We bin lookin’ this past ’our, ma’am and I canna find ‘er anywhere.” She looked on the verge of tears, whereas Lady Hale looked as if she were about to spit out a cobra of the variety Katherine had often wished lately had done its worst with regard to Odette Worthington when she’d been in India. Uncharitable, and not reflecting well on her, she knew. But true.
Now, every mother’s fear rose to the fore as she pushed back her chair and stood, saying with as much control as she could, “Have you looked inside the kist at the end of the bed in the blue room. She usually hides there when she doesn’t wish to be found.”
“I went into the blue room and called loudly,” declared Lady Hale.
Katherine nodded. “That would have had little effect.” With a sigh, she dropped her napkin onto her plate and turned. “She can’t be far. I’ll look for her.”
“She’ll be punished for her naughtiness!” declared Lady Hale, turning, but her words caused Katherine to swing round and say between gritted teeth, “Diana is a child who, like all of us, responds favourably to those who treat her well. And I decide upon her punishment.”
She was aware of her mother watching tensely at what appeared to be a growing public altercation. Derry looked horrified while Aunt Antoinette, Uncle Bertram, and Lord Quamby simply looked enthralled.
“My late son was Diana’s father, if you recall, and he conveyed to me his express wish that his daughter’s propensity to develop the wild, hoydenish ways of her mother be properly reined in.” Lady Hale’s bosom rose impressively. “You are proving unfit for the role of custodian, Katherine. I’m sorry to say it so publicly, but it’s the truth.” She sent a venomous look at the assembled company. “Freddy invested in me the power to make decisions that would be in the best interests of his child, and I’m fast coming to the conclusion that you, alone, Katherine, are completely unequal to the task of ensuring Diana grows into the well-behaved young lady of which he’d be proud.”
“How dare you!”
Katherine felt a surge of gratitude at her mother for defending her with all the fierceness of a mother wolf defending her cub. She’d always looked to Aunt Antoinette for advice on the personal matters she felt uncomfortable discussing with her mother, but when it came down to it, when she needed her unconditional support, her darling, beloved mother was there to give it.
“Get out of this house, Lady Hale. If you feel you can slander my daughter and her abilities as a mother, you are not welcome here again.”
Lady Hale’s nostrils flared as she rounded on Lady Fenton. “This is not your house, Lady Fenton, just as I remind you again that I have the authority through my son’s wishes from the dead, conveyed to a solicitor, that I have equal say in Diana’s welfare.” She swung round to Katherine. “You’ve courted scandal since my dear son died, yet you’ve done nothing to put an end to the gossip surrounding you and Lord Derry. Of course, there are more than just whispers about your reputation, since Lord Derry has been on the scene since before you married Freddy. Lord knows, but it was a scandal you should entice my son to elope! Now you’ve whipped up the gossips with all your carryings-on with his lordship.” She shot him a fierce look.
Katherine noticed one of the servants bending to whisper in Lord Quamby’s ear before her loyal uncle interjected in his usual, affable manner, “I believe your carriage is waiting for you round the front, Lady Hale. We will inform you when Diana has been found, and she and Katherine can pay you a visit in the next couple of days. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”
Lady Hale’s eyes flashed at the subtle dismissal. She gathered her mantle around her and said, dignified, “I trust the child will be punished when she is found. Her lack of deference to her grandmother should not be tolerated.”
“Have no qualms, Lady Hale,” said Lord Quamby. “I’m sure we all con
cur that discipline should be meted out appropriate to the crime.”
As soon as she’d gone, Katherine sank into her chair and put her hands to her face a moment before looking up at the assembled company. “I don’t blame Diana for hiding. The woman is poison,” she muttered. Lady Hale’s threats were deeply troubling, but her propensity for vitriol had become well known to Katherine after her years of marriage to Freddy. Son and mother had never got along, and Katherine was surprised at the sudden interest Lady Hale was showing in Diana when she’d not been too troubled by whether or not she saw her granddaughter when Freddy had been alive. She did, after all, have three grandsons by her other sons, Freddy’s brothers.
“Would you like me to help you look for her?” her mother offered, but Katherine declined. “I know where she is. I’ll have a talk to her.”
She rose and left to go to the blue room, calling along the way and surprised to find the kist where she’d thought to find her daughter, empty.
“Katherine.”
She looked up to find Derry standing in the doorway. He closed the door behind him and took a few strides towards her, something in his expression sending a lurch of foreboding to her stomach.
“Please, Derry, I think you know my feelings—”
He cut her off. “Katherine, I think you have not accorded Lady Hale the power she has over Diana’s future.”
She shook her head. “No, Derry, it’s not true. I am Diana’s mother. Lady Hale has no power.”
“Indeed she has. She’s visited the solicitor and discussed her legal standing.”
Katherine stared. “And why would she tell you that?”
He shrugged. “Her sensibilities are offended by what she terms your carrying-on with me, and she’s afraid Diana may be tainted if you don’t legalise our union.”
“That’s outrageous!”
He shrugged again. “I’m sorry for it, but it is the truth.” He closed the gap between them and took her hands. “Katherine, you know how I feel about you.”
“And you know how I feel about you,” she whispered, raising her head to see his eyes clouded with unhappiness.
“Yet we could make each other happy,” he suggested. “I know you don’t love me, but it would be in Diana’s best interests if you and I were wed.”
“I am not responsible for the scandal attached to our—”
“Friendship,” he supplied. “You and I know that’s all it is but the rest of society has drawn its own conclusion. I’m sorry, Katherine. I would not have put you in such a position, but think of the future. Many unions grow strong from far shakier foundations. I think you and I could be like that. You’re lonely…and it’s not as if there is anyone else. Please, think about it.”
She closed her eyes and gently pulled her hands away. Derry wasn’t an unkind man. After all, she’d been drawn to him before she’d married Freddy. But she was not in love with him. And after seven years of knowing him, she knew she never would be.
“Miss Katherine! Miss Katherine! Katie says she seen Miss Diana.” It was Mary, bursting into the room, her eyes red-rimmed.
Katherine stepped away from Derry and hoped the maidservant wouldn’t infer anything inappropriate may have passed between the two of them.
“Then tell me where she is.”
“Katie says she were lookin’ through the window when she seen Miss Diana climb inter that other carriage that were ’ere. The one belongin’ ter Mr Patmore.”
“Lord, why didn’t Katie stop her?”
“She says she thought Miss Diana were s’posed to be goin’ on a carriage drive, an’ wiv the two carriages behind each other—Lady Hale’s an’ Mr Patmore’s—she didn’t think ‘bout whose was whose.”
Derry glanced at his timepiece. “They’ve been gone some time. I wonder why they didn’t just turn back when they discovered the child.”
“P’raps Miss Diana fell asleep an’ they didn’t notice,” Mary suggested, twisting her apron around her fingers. “‘Tis a large carriage, an’ she might ‘ave climbed into one of them boxes strapped ter the back.” She drew a quavering breath and said with growing alarm, “P’raps they don’t know she’s trapped an’ bouncin’ along. Oh, Lordy!”
Katherine bit down on her fingers as Derry said, “I came on horseback, and that’s the fastest way to catch up with them.” He strode to the door, turning, and clarified, “They were on the northern road heading for Patmore Farm? Right! I’ll be off this instant to bring her home.”
Jack considered the dilemma. Odette was tired and emotional. She didn’t want to return to London with the child, but he saw no alternative.
Sighing, he signalled to the coachman to stop by a roadside tavern.
“Some refreshment will do us all good,” he said, persuading Odette to take his hand so he could help her out into the fresh air. Diana looked perfectly content curled up against the opposite door, but she leapt up exclaiming ‘My favourite!’ when he suggested they ask the tavern keeper if they perchance had apple pie.
She tucked her hand into his while Odette clung mulishly to his other arm, muttering, “It’s just the kind of thing a daughter of Lady Marples would do.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” Jack said mildly, raising his eyebrows at her.
“Just that your friend is impulsive and so is her daughter.”
“Impulsive?” Jack took offence on Katherine’s behalf though he tried to hide it.
“She eloped, for goodness’ sake. Who but the most wild and impulsive young woman elopes! And now her name is linked in another unsuitable liaison, Jack,” she said under her breath as they mounted the steps to the front door which was opened by a maidservant in a clean white apron over a print dress.
When Odette saw Jack’s knitted brows, she said quickly, “I know you’re very defensive of your friend Katherine, and I don’t mean to malign her, but it’s the truth, and you know very well that society considers her behaviour scandalous. It’s not just me saying it. Poor Diana obviously needs someone to keep her in check.”
“Oh, there is apple pie!” exclaimed Diana excitedly, breaking off a hurried separate conversation with the maidservant who’d been leading them up the corridor. “And they’ll bring it to the private parlour.” She looked as if she were on a grand adventure as she ran ahead into the room to which the maidservant led them.
The weight on Jack’s shoulders intensified as he took a seat opposite Odette and Diana, who couldn’t sit still she was so excited at the prospect of apple pie. He smiled when he caught her eye. Diana reminded him so much of Katherine.
Odette leant across the small space and shook her finger at Diana, her voice stern.
“You were very naughty to jump into a carriage when you didn’t know who it belonged to or where it was going,” she said. “What will your mother say?”
Diana leaned back in her chair. Her feet were dangling well off the ground, and she looked contemplative rather than contrite.
“She’d be cross,” Diana agreed. Her lip began to tremble. She seemed suddenly to be reflecting on her actions rather than taking the adventure as it came. When she gazed into Jack’s eyes her own looked bright with unshed tears. “I think maybe because I did what she did she’ll be even crosser. Oh dear!”
“Well, at least your mother knew where her carriage was going,” Odette muttered, obviously referring to Katherine’s escapade seven years before. “You didn’t, Diana. You could have got into awful trouble.”
Diana shook her head and sat up straight. “Oh no, Mama didn’t know where her carriage was taking her. That’s why she’ll be even crosser with me for doing what she did.” As if a realisation had suddenly descended upon her, the little girl gasped, “I’ll have a lifetime of sorrow.” She suddenly burst into such tears of genuine fear and tragedy both Jack and Odette looked at each other in confusion before Jack reached across to pat the little girl’s arm and say, “Of course you won’t, Diana. We’ll take you back to your Mama straight
away.”
She rubbed her reddened eyes and looked back at them. “After the apple pie?”
Jack smiled, wondering if he could press her on her enigmatic words, for a rather odd sensation had followed Diana’s revelation, and he didn’t know if it might also have registered with Odette.
“Naturally. You can have my serving as well, if you like.”
It was as if the sun had lit her up from within. Jack swallowed, for Diana’s smile was as genuine and without artifice as Katherine’s had ever been; it sent him hurtling back in time. He remembered the pure joy he used to feel at the prospect of leaving the foundling home to see his old friend each week. Being welcomed by Katherine, running across the lawn to meet the dogcart in which he would invariably be conveyed had been like stepping into a magical kingdom.
“I’m sure your mother didn’t threaten you with a lifetime of sorrow if you hid in someone else’s carriage,” he prompted mildly. “It’s a rather unlikely thing to do.”
Diana shrugged. “It’s what Mama said she got when she got into the wrong carriage. She was punished with a lifetime of sorrow. Oh, goody! It’s the apple pie!”
There was no opportunity now of getting into the specifics. Distracted by the little girl’s words, Jack pushed across his plate of apple pie and imagined possible interpretations. Had Katherine inferred to Diana that she wished she’d not been so impulsive in choosing to jump into Diana’s father’s carriage that fateful night?
Or was there something more to it?
Odette clasped his hand, and he looked into her face, forcing himself to smile. She’d hate to know how often his thoughts dwelled on this little girl’s mother, and how suddenly the past seemed to be in doubt.
As did the future.
“Ah, Jack, but you’re a good man, sacrificing your apple pie to bring happiness to a perhaps not-so-deserving child, but one who is grateful nonetheless.”
The Accidental Elopement (Scandalous Miss Brightwells Book 4) Page 19