Kate: A Universal Truth (A Wish for Love Series Book 1)

by Shales, Mia

  Kate stood still for a long time after he left the room. She went over their last words. She couldn't understand how she had indulged in such a childish conversation. It was not her style to be sarcastic or unyielding. It was as though a wall had suddenly sprung up between them although nothing untoward had happened. He was simply going away on business for a few days. Nothing unusual about that. She felt greatly fatigued. She asked Miss Stevenson to tell the dowager that she was not feeling well and would not come down to dinner and asked that a plate of fresh fruit be brought up to her room. In the bedroom she undressed wearily and slid under the cool sheets, closing her eyes. She wanted to escape, to sink into a dreamless sleep, to get as far away as possible from the emotional upheavals and doubts that had been her lot ever since the day she first met the Marquis.

  Sleep eluded her. She was restless. She felt a disagreeable flash of anger. She tried to understand why she felt so lonely, what had gone so wrong between them and suddenly she understood. For Matthew, the thought of marrying her was as remote as the thought of leaving her. He was quite obviously extremely satisfied with the situation. He was attracted to her, and perhaps even felt he loved her, but he still was not ready to give up his freedom for her. She now saw her way clear. She must leave Bellewoodplain. She could not leave matters as they were. If he didn't love her enough to wed her there was no reason for her to stay. Each additional day only made the situation worse. Every day she became more attached to him, loved him more, desired him more. If she didn't leave now, she never would. She had lost her heart, but if she left now she would at least salvage her pride.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kate awoke at dawn and went to the stables. Saffron whinnied with excitement as she saddled him. A tumult of feelings filled her heart as she rode him through the wide spaces of Bellewoodplain, both deep sorrow and relief. Her final departure from Matthew and Bellewoodplain was near. The dice has fallen and with it the end of confusion and uncertainty. She would put her life back together again and go on. When she returned to the house Kate made her way directly to the kitchen.

  “What’s for breakfast?” she queried Helena, one of the veteran cooks of Bellewoodplain, as she sank into a chair with a sigh. “I’m starved.”

  The plump cook looked smug. “I’ve baked fresh raisin buns, and I’ll fix up an omelet just the way you like it.”

  “Sounds fantastic.”

  “Alfred is setting the table in the small dining room and the food is almost done.”

  “I prefer eating here in the kitchen. It’s much cozier. I hope you don’t mind my company for a little while longer.”

  “Of course not,” the cook chuckled with pleasure. “I’ll let you in on a secret. Lord Matthew also prefers the kitchen. Since he was a lad he’s had a habit of sneaking into the kitchen before his morning ride and filling his stomach with my buns.” Helena flipped the omelet with a practiced hand. “When Lady Theresa heard, she made a big fuss and forbade him to hang out with the servants but the young lord just laughed and promised to behave himself and not bring shame on the family.” Helena let out a hearty laugh, her double chin quavering with glee. “The old lady was speechless. I think Lord Matthew was the only one who ever dared defy her. But he did it with such charm and elegance that she was left without ammunition and always gave in.”

  She transferred the omelet from the heavy iron pan to a large plate that she set down in front of Kate. A basket of hot buns with creamy yellow butter and a large glass of freshly squeezed juice followed.

  “Does he ever eat here nowadays?”

  “Every now and then, when there are no guests at Bellewoodplain. He sits just where you are sitting now and while I cook he eats and tells me what’s new in the world. The lord has an adventurous spirit. He’s been to so many faraway and exotic places and seen so many things that I’m left openmouthed from his stories and forget to close it.”

  “Perhaps he was Marco Polo in a previous incarnation.”

  “Perhaps,” Helena said in a reflective tone, and Kate hid her smile when she noticed the seriousness with which the cook considered her statement. “After he finished college, before the old Marquis died, milord went to India and other far away countries.” Her eyes gleamed mischievously. “My lady was not at all pleased to receive photographs, in each of which he was with a different girl.”

  “Did he have many girlfriends?” Kate tried to sound amused but felt her cheeks redden under the kind scrutiny of the cook.

  “He was always wild and handsome and the girls fell at his feet likes leaves in the fall.” Kate continued to smile even though the muscles in her cheeks ached from the strain. She preferred to die rather than reveal the childish jealousy she felt as Helena described Matthew’s past as a heartbreaker. Helena looked at her affectionately. “But none of them was ever important to him. They came and went without leaving a trace, like pretty butterflies in the spring.”

  “Oh,” Kate said, wondering what to say now.

  “He once told me,” the cook continued, “that he was sure he would never marry because the woman he was seeking had to be so special that he was sure she didn’t exist.”

  “That’s what he said?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what did you say?” Kate was curious. She knew that Helena was never reluctant to express her opinions, and over their short acquaintance Kate had learned that she had very decided opinions about everything under the sun.

  “I told milord that every pot has a cover,” she glanced at Kate triumphantly, “and every prince has a princess.”

  Despite the bantering tone she felt Helena’s words soothe her wounded heart. Kate looked at the good-natured, motherly cook, and her almond-shaped eyes thanked her. Helena opened her mouth to say something but just at that moment Roget came in, putting a stop to the feminine comradeship in the kitchen.

  “Bonjour Mademoiselle Kate. Bonjour Madame Helena.”

  “Bonjour, Monsieur Roget,” the women answered in chorus, like two obedient pupils before the headmaster.

  Roget smiled warmly at Kate and Helena winked at her behind his back, shaking her head in satisfaction. During her stay at Bellewoodplain Kate had managed to win the respect and affection of the staff. Just the day before Helena had said to her husband, the administrative manager of the estate, “she’s charming, George. You should have seen stern Roget dancing about her like a love-struck youngster. Not a day goes by but one of the staff doesn’t voice his hope the Marquis will make her the lady of Bellewoodplain and I join in that hope with all my heart. Yes George, If Lord Matthew has eyes in his head and brains too, he will never let her go. She has more blue blood in her than half the aristocrats in this country.”

  Kate continued to chat with Helena as others on the staff walked in and out of the kitchen. The time passed quickly and it was after ten when Helena answered the house phone.

  “Lady Theresa is looking for you,” she said to Kate.

  “I’ll go up to her. Thank you for the meal, it was excellent.”

  Kate went to the southern drawing room, where the dowager always rested before lunch.”

  “Come in Kate. I want to talk to you.”

  Something in her voice made Kate sure this would be no idle chat. She sat opposite the old, wrinkled lady, gazing straight into her eyes. The decision to leave Bellewoodplain had been taken but under no circumstances would she let Theresa Camedon think she was leaving out of fear of her.

  “This morning I spoke on the telephone to Lady Bayhem and heard some very disturbing things. Mary Bayhem informed me of her son’s engagement to your sister and added that rumors have reached her ears that very soon Miss Kate Evans is to become the wife of my grandson, the Marquis of Camedon. I’m certain a terrible mistake has been made. It is inconceivable that Matthew would propose to you.” She fell silent as her penetrating black eyes bored into Kate.

  Kate answered stiffly, “if you're so convinced of that, I'm most surprised you're bringing up the subject at all.
”

  “I wish to hear a clear-cut denial from your own mouth.”

  “I will neither deny nor affirm anything to you.”

  “I insist you give me a clear answer. Has my grandson proposed to you?”

  “You have just said such a thing is impossible.”

  The dowager’s ebony eyes burned. “Don’t forget who I am, Kate! I won’t stand for any cheek from you. I'm his grandmother and have the right to know everything that concerns him.”

  “But no right at all to know what concerns me.”

  “Let me make myself clear, young woman. This marriage you aspire to can never take place. Never! My grandson will marry Gabriella. Now, what do you have to say to that?”

  “The only thing I have to say is that if you're so certain of that, why should you think he would propose to me?”

  “My grandson’s marriage was planned by me and Gabriella’s mother many years ago. Do you really believe I will allow those plans to go for naught because of a woman of no social standing?”

  Kate could see the humorous side of the incredible situation. When Jane Austen wrote her novels more than two hundred years ago, the notion of people marrying for love was revolutionary. Class differences were an almost insurmountable barrier to love. But today when princes and princesses marry commoners, Lady Theresa words were extremely old fashioned, as though taken from a lost forgotten world. And still Kate could understand her point of view. Even today, people mostly marry their own kind. It was human nature.

  “If your grandson loves me and wants me to be his wife why do you think his grandmother’s and aunt’s plans will stop me from marrying him? You and his aunt have done everything to plan his marriage to Gabriella but the execution depends on others. If Matthew feels no obligation to marry his cousin why shouldn’t he seek the hand of another woman? And if that other woman happens to be me, why should I refuse his offer?”

  “Honor, decency, tradition and the good of the family forbid it. If you marry Matthew against my will you will find yourself ostracized and scorned by all the family’s friends and the entire aristocracy of England.”

  Kate smiled a bare hint of a smile, “that will no doubt be terrible,” she answered, “but the happiness Matthew will provide his bride will no doubt be so great that she will have no reason to bewail her fate.”

  “You are a stubborn and impudent girl,” the dowager’s eyes gleamed balefully, “with no shame or manners. I demand to know, once and for all, if my grandson has proposed to you."

  Although Kate was reluctant to answer, not wishing the dowager to feel she had given in to her, she could only reply “no, he did not ask me to marry him.”

  “And will you promise never to accept such a proposal?”

  “I could never give such a promise. I love him!”

  Lady Theresa looked as though on the verge of a heart attack. Kate began to fear for her well-being but when she spoke again Kate understood there was no reason to worry. The dowager was at the height of her powers.

  “You are making a grave mistake. I expected you had more sense. I won’t let go until you promise never to marry my grandson.”

  “I'll never promise any such thing. No one, not even you, can force me through threats and intimidation to agree to something so illogical. Besides, what makes you believe that even if I refuse to marry him, he will marry your chosen bride? You’ve greatly misread my character if you think I can be convinced by arguments such as you have presented. I don’t know whether Matthew would be pleased to know how you interfere in his private life or not, but I certainly do not agree that you can interfere in mine. You have no right to do so and I won’t allow it any more. I must ask you never to bring up the matter with me again.” She stood and the dowager followed.

  “You are very foolish to speak to me in that way. I can only hope you change your mind. I, at any rate, intend to do everything I can to separate you from Matthew.”

  With those words the dowager, straight-backed and proud, walked to the door.

  Kate spent the entire afternoon in the study. When it came time to change for dinner she sighed, reluctant to leave. The last thing she wanted was to see the dowager again. But she would not let herself behave rudely.

  The dowager was not in the drawing room when Kate came in. The atmosphere was unusually silent. Kate debated whether to return to her room and bring a book when Alfred entered.

  “The dowager left Bellewoodplain this afternoon. She asked me to apologize in her name for not taking leave of you but unforeseen events have called her to London. With your permission, dinner will be served in the small dining room.”

  Kate almost burst into laughter. Everyone suddenly had urgent matters in London. Was her company so unbearable that everyone had a strong urge to get as far away as possible?

  Kate sat at the head of the table set for a single diner. The room where dinner was served may have been small compared to the other dining rooms at Bellewoodplain, but it was far too big for one person. She had gotten so used to Matthew’s company that for a moment she felt a void. She stared at the food on the plate in front of her. This feeling of emptiness took getting used to. Perhaps she would never see Matthew again. The thought caused her heart to contract and her appetite to disappear.

  "I’ve lost my appetite, Alfred. I’m sorry. Please send my apologies to Roget.”

  “The apology is not accepted.” Kate almost jumped from her seat when she heard the heavy French accent behind her. “Leave the plate on the table, Alfred. Mademoiselle Kate, I did not work all evening so that my most delicious meal will be thrown into the garbage. I promise you that your bad mood will improve most considerably after you taste the delicacies I have prepared.” A white apron enfolded Roget’s waist and a tall cook’s hat perched on his head. His thick mustache danced as he spoke and Kate smiled faintly back at him. “Do not be sad, Mademoiselle. The Marquis will return in a few days and all will be well.”

  Kate didn’t dare tell Roget that in a few days she would not be at Bellewoodplain. She tasted the meat on her plate. Roget was right. It would be a shame to throw out such a tidbit.

  “Roget, I’m feeling a bit low today. I know this is an unusual request but I would much prefer to eat in the kitchen in your company.”

  “But Mademoiselle!” Roget protested, but when he gave another look at her he quickly recovered his aplomb, “the pleasure is all ours.”

  Seated at the kitchen table, Kate prompted Roget. “Tell me about your childhood in France. Where you grew up, when you first became interested in cooking and how you came to be the chef at Bellewoodplain.”

  In the French chef’s company the dinner turned out to be a delight. Roget went out of his way to amuse Kate and raise her morale and got his reward when the sorrow and emptiness in Kate’s eyes were replaced by a sparkle. Only after he served the dessert did Kate dare bring up a subject that had been bothering her for some time.

  “Roget,” a slight nervousness made her clear her throat, “you must know Richard Lindsay.”

  Roget did not appear surprised at her question. “I'm indeed acquainted with that scoundrel. I know that snake in the grass all too well. The Camedon family gave him money, a superior education, true friendship and a warm home and what did he give in return? He almost destroyed poor Lady Rebecca and almost killed the Marquis. I say ‘almost’ because it was his great good fortune that the Camedon family is made of strong stuff and the love between the brother and sister enabled them to overcome the harrowing trauma. After that rogue Lindsay ran away from Bellewoodplain my lord didn’t leave Lady Rebecca’s side for weeks and took care of her better than her own mother could. He saved her life and treated her wound. More than that, he healed her soul and succeeded in doing the impossible, restoring the young lady’s good spirits.”

  “What happened that night? I must know.”

  He hesitated.

  “Please, Roget.”

  “No one knows exactly what happened but that evening Lindsay came d
own from Oxford to Bellewoodplain and was closeted with the lord in his study. According to the terms of the old Marquis’ will...”

  “Yes, I know all about the will,” Kate interrupted impatiently, “but what happened after the two men parted? What happened then?” She twisted her fingers nervously.

  “The Marquis and Lady Rebecca ate dinner. After coffee Lady Rebecca retired to her room and his lordship returned to the study. He asked me to step inside as that weekend a party including the Spanish heir and his betrothed were expected and I had prepared a special menu for the festive dinner. The Marquis wished to ensure that everything was taken care of and that I would be provided with adequate help. In the middle of our discussion the maid came in. She was agitated. She said she had heard strange noises from Lady Rebecca’s private wing and felt obliged to report to his lord. Matthew went immediately upstairs to make sure nothing was amiss. I do not know what happened in Lady Rebecca’s room but what is certain is that good-for-nothing Lindsay did not leave Bellewoodplain as everyone thought but hid in the garden until he saw the light go on in Lady Rebecca’s suite and then he sneaked into her room and attacked her. I thought I would do well to get George and Alfred so we would be available if Matthew needed us. When we got upstairs we found him bleeding and unconscious and Lady Rebecca at his side, crying her heart out. Lindsay managed to escape. On the stairs we found the knife he used to stab the Marquis.”

  The scar! The thought flashed through Kate’s head.

  “We called an ambulance that took his lordship and Lady Rebecca, who was in a state of shock, to the nearest hospital. Matthew lost a great deal of blood but the medical team managed to save his life and he recovered very quickly. Lady Rebecca was in a far worse state. She wept for weeks on end and we were all afraid she would take her life. It was a sad time for all of us. Matthew never left her for a minute. He sat in her room for hours. It took a long time but she did eventually, slowly, recover. She began to paint, to take walks, to smile. That’s it. That is what happened that night at Bellewoodplain. Lord Matthew, despite all his efforts, was unsuccessful in tracing Lindsay. But now that the degenerate has returned to England he will be made to pay for what he did. It turns out that besides being a rapist, a murderer and a thief he's wanted for drug dealing and faces many long years in prison. That is what Lord Matthew himself told me before going to London to testify at the trial.”