The Defiant Miss Foster & A Highly Respectable Widow

by Melinda McRae

When Val arrived in London, he was relieved to discover that Nicholas Foster had not spent his time alone indulging in drunken revelries or debauched mayhem. No, from all Val could learn, the lad had behaved himself as he ought. It made Val even more confident in recommending him for a post in one of the Guard units. While nothing official had been said, he’d been privately assured that there would be an opening within the month, and Foster’s candidacy would be seriously considered—as he was willing to pay the price for an available commission.

  In the morning, Val paid another visit to the Horse

  Guards, to learn if any openings had developed in one of the sought-after regiments. Val still could not understand why anyone would want to be a parade soldier, but in peacetime he supposed it had a certain appeal. Strutting around London in a fancy uniform would certainly attract the eyes of the ladies. And while he thought Nicholas Foster too young to be thinking about marriage, there was always that possibility. It was Val’s obligation as guardian to do what was best for his ward, and a commission in the Guards would raise young Nick’s value in the eyes of many calculating mothers.

  Val had already approached several of his old comrades- in-arms for leads, and so he was not overly surprised when he was told that indeed an opening had developed in the Blues, and if young Mr. Foster was willing to pay the asking price, the commission as lieutenant would be his.

  As soon as Val reached home, he sent up a note to Nicholas, who had developed the deplorable town habit of staying up nearly until dawn and sleeping late. His new commanding officer would soon cure him of that indulgence.

  Nick appeared in the study only a scant few moments later, cravat sloppily tied and hair sticking out every which way. Val barely repressed a shudder.

  “You wanted to see me?” Nick asked eagerly.

  Val nodded. “Sit down.” He waited for the boy to be seated and gestured to the sideboard. “Should you like a glass of brandy?”

  The young man blanched. “Not after last night.”

  Val poured himself a glass then turned to his ward. “Well, I am sorry to tell you that your life of high living is soon to be over.”

  “Have I overstepped my bounds?” Nick’s face flushed with guilt.

  “Not unless you’ve indulged in some low undertakings that I have not yet heard of,” Val replied, hiding a smile. “No, I fear you are going to have to conform your activities to military regulations in the near future.”

  “My commission?” Nick sprang to his feet. “You found me a commission?”

  “Sit down.” Val pointed to the chair. “I begin to think you are a jack-in-the-box the way you jump whenever the military is mentioned. I was at the Horse Guards this morning, and there is a position available in the Blues, if that suits you.”

  “Oh, indeed it does,” Nick replied, his eyes shining with unrestrained delight.

  “Now, in my opinion, the position is vastly overpriced, considering that we are at peace and advancement is at a virtual standstill.”

  “That does not matter to me,” Nick said. “I am content to be a lieutenant forever.”

  “Well, you can only hope that we find someone to go to war with again so you can improve your position,” Val said. “As your guardian, I must advise you that it is not a practical investment and will cost you far more than you will ever earn. I can also see that my words matter not in the least to you.”

  Nick grinned. “I understand what you are saying, sir. But right now, I want a commission more than anything else in the world.”

  “Very well, then. I will schedule an appointment with your banker to make the necessary financial arrangements, and then we shall toddle off to the Horse Guards tomorrow to begin the torturous process of the paperwork.”

  “How long do you think it will take?” Nick asked.

  “Oh, a fortnight or so,” Val replied.

  “A fortnight?” Dismay filled the lad’s face. “I have to wait that long?”

  “You will have plenty to accomplish in that time, believe me,” Val said. “Why, just the fittings for your uniforms will occupy the better part of a week. There are horses to buy, equipment ...”

  “I cannot tell you how much this means to me,” Nick said. “I will be forever grateful.”

  “Just see that you behave yourself for the remainder of your stay,” Val said. “And, of course, once you join your regiment.”

  “Oh, I will,” Nick promised.

  “Your sister may arrive before you join the regiment. I am sure she will be glad of your company.”

  Nick swallowed hard. “I do not think she will care that much. She is not very happy with me.”

  “When I spoke to her, she readily acquiesced to my plans for her. I believe her temper has cooled.” “She knows she is coming here to find a husband?” Nick asked, surprise on his face.

  “Indeed she does.”

  Nick shook his head. “That does not sound like Kat at all.”

  “I believe her to be a sensible girl, despite her hot temper,” Val said. “She knows that marriage is the natural future for her.”

  Nick let out a whoosh of air. “I hope you are right. Kat’s never indicated a desire to wed before.”

  “Probably because the candidates open to her at home were far too limited. In London, she will have a much wider selection to choose from. I have no doubt we will be able to find a fellow who is to her liking.”

  “I almost regret that I won’t be here to watch this,” Nick said. “If you succeed, my lord, I’ll take off my hat to you.”

  “I do not anticipate any difficulties,” Val said, annoyed by the lad’s continued doubts. “She will soon realize what is best for her.”

  He stood, indicating the interview was over. “Tomorrow morning at ten we will go to the Horse Guards. See that you are ready—and properly dressed and groomed.”

  “I will be,” Nick promised, and nearly danced out the door.

  Val shook his head. The exuberance of youth. Had he ever been that young and foolish?

  No.

  Thank God.

  Chapter Eight

  For Kat, the next fortnight with Sophie passed in a whirl of wardrobe planning, memorizing the rules of London society, and learning how to do a few simple country- dances. Finally, Sophie pronounced her ready and they started packing for the journey to London.

  Now, three days later, their traveling coach neared the city. Kat was eager for the long, tiring journey to end, yet as fields and farms gave way to houses and gardens, a shiver of apprehension danced down her back. So many things to remember, and so much depending on the success of her plan—and all had to be acted out under the intense scrutiny of her guardian.

  Sophie gave her a nudge. “You might catch a glimpse of Holland House through the trees. And then we shall be at Hyde Park.”

  Kat peered past her but only saw trees and flowering shrubs. As they drove by the park, she moved to the other seat so as to get a better view. To her disappointment, the riding track could not be seen from the road. Perhaps she could persuade Sophie to go later today and view the horses on display.

  Yet once they reached the Tyburn tollgate, she could not decide which window to look out of. She had never seen the like. Oxford Street stretched ahead of them, buildings massed on either side of the road, the street itself full of every type of carriage, men on horseback, carters with their goods.

  And the people! It looked like market day in Wickworth at its busiest—yet this was only one street. She suddenly

  grasped the enormity of the city she was entering and found it daunting.

  Something on the far side of the street caught her eye, and she lunged across the seat to peer out that window, before sliding back to her place facing Sophie.

  “You will be too worn out to do anything if you keep jumping about like this,” Sophie observed dryly.

  “I can’t help it,” Kat said. “I’m excited—and nervous. So much depends on this visit! If I cannot convince your brother to relent . . .”<
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  “Val is not against you,” Sophie said. “He just needs to be convinced that your solution is the best one.”

  Kat shivered. “I know he expects me to do something horrible. And I will, too, if he keeps watching me like a nervous mother hen.”

  “Val knows what a charming young lady you are,” Sophie said.

  “Hah! He will always fear the worst from me.”

  “Well, you did shoot him,” Sophie reminded her.

  “Another thing he is not likely to forget—or forgive.”

  Now that she was almost in his presence again, Kat felt less confident of her ability to win over her guardian. She never should have shot him. But since she had, that unfortunate incident would forever throw a cloud over their relationship, making it all that harder for her to convince him to reunite her family.

  Kat needed to beg his forgiveness and hope they could start out afresh. He had made his own gesture of conciliation when he’d brought her horse; now it was her turn to respond. But would he accept her apology?

  She knew it was London that made her edgy. There were too many people, too many tall buildings. She longed to be back in the country.

  But Newkirk was here in the city, so here she must stay, until she had won him over to her point of view.

  Kat felt relief when they turned off the main street into a more residential section, with less vehicles and people. But everywhere she looked there were buildings, buildings, and more buildings. She regretted she had not spent more time looking at Hyde Park, for she suddenly feared she was not going to see another patch of green for ages.

  Then ahead of her, the buildings parted and the street opened onto a huge square—bigger than the village green at home, with an enormous fenced-in garden in the center.

  “Is this where your brother’s house is?” Kat asked with hope. It would be nice to have such greenery close by.

  Sophie laughed. “Hardly. This is Grosvenor Square. He would not wish to live in such a grand location, although I should like it! We are a few streets away still.”

  After several more turns, Kat was thoroughly lost and could not have found her way back to the square, let alone Oxford Street, if her life depended on it. She felt a sharp relief when the carriage drew to a halt in front of a modest, narrow-fronted brick house, identical to the neighbors on either side of it.

  “We are here,” Sophie announced.

  Kat reached for the door latch, but Sophie stayed her hand. “Let the footman assist you. Remember, ladies do not go leaping in and out of coaches.”

  Kat winced. If she’d already forgotten such a simple thing, what future disasters did that portend? Sophie had tried hard to explain all she knew about proper behavior, but Kat feared she would not remember a tenth of it. Yet if she wanted her plan to succeed, she would have to. Newkirk must be convinced of her complete suitability.

  It was silly rules like these that would trip her up. Why pretend to be helpless when she was perfectly capable of getting out of a carriage by herself?

  The door was opened by a black-suited man, who flipped down the steps and held out his hand. Sophie took it and, gathering her skirts, stepped down with an elegance that Kat momentarily envied. Kat knew she did not exit with nearly the same grace, but at least she had not fallen on her face. It was one thing to wander about Sophie’s house in a dress; climbing in and out of carriages in one was another. It was going to take a while to grow accustomed to having all that fabric swirling about her legs, getting in the way, threatening to trip her.

  Acting like a lady was no easy feat.

  And inside was Newkirk, the one man she had to impress, who would be watching her every move with a critical eye. Kat squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, determined not to fail in her task. She had to show him that she could be every inch the lady he wanted her to be.

  And convince him that she was more than capable of taking care of her family.

  The same man who helped them down from the carriage now stood on the top step, holding the front door open. Sophie turned and beckoned for Kat to follow her.

  “We do not wish to stand about on the street all day,” she said, and walked into the house.

  Mumbling a few last-minute words of encouragement to herself, Kat followed.

  While Newkirk’s country house has been comfortable, the town house could only be described as elegant. Marble floors stretched underfoot, a tall, carved hall clock stood in the entry, and an ornate chandelier hung overhead. Kat looked around hastily, noticing the expensive appointments, then hurrying to catch Sophie, who was already starting up the stairs.

  She followed Sophie upward and to the left, through a set of double doors that led into what was no doubt the main drawing room, running across the front of the house. It was decorated with even more elegance than the one in the country, with green and cream walls, gilt-framed paintings and upholstered furniture. Sophie untied her bonnet and set it on a chair, and Kat realized she’d left hers in the coach.

  “I should get my bonnet,” she said, and started for the door.

  “Someone will bring it,” Sophie said. She looked eagerly about the room. “Oh, it is good to be back in London.”

  “It is good to have you here again, Sophie.”

  Kat froze at the words. Newkirk was here.

  “I see you have brought our honored guest,” he continued.

  Kat slowly turned and watched as he sauntered into the room, examining her with what she knew was a critical eye.

  She took a deep breath. She had to remember that this man held her future in his hands. It was time to continue the performance she had begun at Sophie’s.

  Kat knelt in a deep curtsy, holding her skirts to the side, remembering all that Sophie had taught her. “My lord, it is a pleasure to see you again.”

  She thought she caught a fleeting glimpse of amusement in his eyes before he bowed low. “Miss Foster. Thank you for accompanying my sister.”

  Sophie put her hands on her hips and stared at her brother. “And have you no greeting for me?”

  “Always.” Newkirk covered the floor between them in several long strides and grasped her hands. “It is good to have you in town, Sophie.”

  “I think I am pleased to be here,” she said. “But fagged after that journey. As I am certain Kat is. I will show her to her room and help her get settled. Will we see you at dinner tonight?”

  Newkirk nodded. “I shall dine with you this evening.” “Goodness, I half expected you to drag us to a grand ball on our first night here.”

  “Tomorrow,” he promised with a faint grin.

  “You are such a tease!” Sophie exclaimed, rapping him on the arm with her glove. “You know it will be another week at least before all our clothes are ready. Goodness, there is still so much shopping to be done. I intend to start first thing tomorrow. We don’t have time for balls and such right now!”

  To Kat’s surprise, Newkirk smiled. “Ah yes, you and your shopping. I suppose I shall have to triple the footmen’s wages while you are here to make up for the trouble of having to haul all your packages.”

  “A good plan, Val.” Sophie stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for persuading me to come.”

  She took Kat by the arm and led her out into the hall and up the stairs.

  “See?” she said when they’d reached the landing. “That went smoothly.”

  Kat peered out the window of the bedroom she had been given. It looked over the tiny back garden, the existence of which had come as a surprise to her. Sophie explained that nearly every house in this section of town had a garden in back and that some of the bigger mansions held wonderworks of greenery hidden behind their stone facades.

  Kat was more interested in the stabling for the horses, and Sophie promised to show her the mews around the comer on the morrow—after they went shopping.

  She rose again and paced the room. Sophie might be tired from traveling, but Kat was not. In fact, she had far too much pent-up energy afte
r being trapped in the carriage for the last three days. What she needed was a nice, refreshing walk; however, she had no wish to get lost on her first day in London.

  But she could explore as far as the stables. She could easily find her way there. And she was curious to see what manner of horses Newkirk kept.

  Her trunks with her still meager belongings had been brought in and unpacked by a maid clad in gray and white. Kat grabbed her cloak from the wardrobe and started down the stairs. She let herself out the front door, walked down the steps and turned to her left.

  Newkirk’s house was in the center of a long block of nearly identical brick houses facing each other across the cobbled street. If she had to live in London, she would rather live on a large square such as the one they had passed, where you did not have the sense of buildings and people closing in on you from all sides.

  At the corner, she turned and walked until she reached a gap between the houses, wide enough to allow a carriage to pass. She entered this passageway and felt a spurt of relief when she smelled the familiar stable odors—horses, sweat, hay, and dung.

  The passage opened into a wide courtyard encircled by stabling for horses and carriages. A coach similar to the one she and Sophie had ridden in was being hitched up with a team of four. In front of another stable, a groom was washing down and combing a splendid bay. Kat walked closer to give the animal a more critical examination.

  “Fine piece of horseflesh there,” she said conversationally.

  “That ’e is,” the groom replied.

  “Who does he belong to?” she asked.

  “Lord Dandridge.”

  “Is he married?”

  The groom gave her an odd look. “That he is, miss.”

  Kat sighed. She wouldn’t mind being married to a man with a horse like that. She continued along, peering inside the open stable doors. The mews was similar to an inn yard, although far less hectic and much larger. Why, there must