The Defiant Miss Foster & A Highly Respectable Widow

by Melinda McRae

  83

  be nearly fifty horses here, and almost as many workers. She marveled at how this was hidden away behind those towering houses, like a secret world within the city.

  Most of the horses looked to be decent stock, although she spotted a few that she would not have in her own stable. Seeing these prime animals made her eager to view the display in Hyde Park. Perhaps she could persuade Sophie to go there tomorrow. If Kat could not ride, she could at least watch others doing so.

  Curious to learn what type of mounts Newkirk kept for himself, Kat asked around until someone pointed her to the right stable. She marched over and called out for the groom, who came scurrying out.

  “You work for Newkirk?” she asked.

  The man nodded.

  “Good. I am a guest of his and would like to see his stable. Does he keep many horses in town?”

  The groom motioned for her to follow. “He’s got his riding cattle and those for the carriage. I hear tell we’re to be renting a town vehicle—must be for your convenience.”

  Kat wrinkled her nose. “Oh no, that’s for Sophie. Which horse does his lordship favor?”

  The groom indicated the stall on the right, which held a sturdy chestnut that looked to be about sixteen hands tall. Kat did not think him a particularly handsome animal, but he looked like he’d have a good deal of stamina. Of course, what good that would do in the city, she did not know. She’d like to see this one put over some fences or a ditch or two.

  She looked quickly at the other horses, all superior-looking animals. Kat felt a twinge of annoyance at not discovering that the baron had spavined, bow-backed nags at his disposal. It would be only one more thing to dislike about him.

  But since she might actually have to deal with these animals, she supposed it was all for the best that they were worthy creatures. She thanked the groom for his time and went back into the yard.

  She guessed that toward evening, as the noble owners prepared for their entertainments, it would be a bustle of activity as horses were harnessed, carriages set to, and drivers mounted. Eddie would love to see it all.

  Eddie. A deep pain throbbed within her. He was the very reason she was here in London in the first place, to find a way to bring the boys home. Instead of admiring the horses, she should be back at the house trying to cozen up to Newkirk in a last—and probably fruitless—hope that he would relent and send Eddie, Samuel, and Thomas home.

  After the ladies had gone upstairs, Val returned to his study, pleased with what he had seen. Miss Foster had actually arrived by carriage and not astride that monster of a horse she insisted on riding. The look on her face when she’d curtsied to him had been priceless.

  Time would tell if she could retain her newfound docility in the hectic whirl of London society. Had Sophie’s training gone deep enough to endure public scrutiny? He had to trust his sister’s judgment; her letters had been full of enthusiasm for her charge’s eagerness to learn and participate in London society.

  He’d have more chances to watch Miss Foster closely over the next few days. Sophie’s insistence on lengthy shopping expeditions would delay the process of launching his ward into society until he could judge if it was truly safe.

  Val already had the names of a few prospective suitors, who could be called upon in the early days to pay a visit and look her over. If he was lucky, one of them would come up to the mark quickly and he would be saved from having to worry about what Miss Katherine Foster would do in elegant London company.

  But if not . . . there were plenty of activities to keep her occupied. As long as he kept her away from the high sticklers, where every word she uttered would be analyzed and discussed for days afterward, matters could not go too far awry. The theater was certainly a safe location, along with drives in the park with Sophie, morning calls on family friends and relatives, and visits to educational exhibits. Miss Foster would have ample opportunity to meet plenty of young men.

  Val realized it was not all that different from planning to sell a horse—make the effort to be seen in the park, put the animal through its paces, let the word get out that he was for sale, and then wait for the offers and pick the best one.

  The plan would work equally well for Sophie. Val vowed to have both of them snapped up before the end of June.

  85

  Now that she was here, it was time to discuss his plans with Miss Foster. He sent a footman in search of her, but she was not in her room. Val was not concerned until he learned that Sophie had not seen her, either.

  He ordered the servants to launch a search of the entire house. If that brat had rim away . . .

  An hour later, Val was seething. There was no sign of his ward anywhere. Sophie was frantic with worry, his house was in an uproar, and the chit had barely arrived in London. This did not bode well for the future.

  Where had that blasted girl gone? This was not the country. A young lady did not just walk out of the house and stroll about the city on her own. Hadn’t Sophie warned her about that? Why, the girl could be anywhere by now— Hyde Park, Piccadilly, the river.

  Wait. What was Miss Foster’s passion—besides her brothers? Horses. And where were the nearest horses? The mews.

  Val jumped up and raced out the front door. He should have thought of this first thing.

  He found her, measuring the withers on his second-best carriage horse. Judging from the wisps of straw that clung to her skirts, she had given his stables a thorough inspection.

  “Does she meet with your approval?” he asked, stepping closer.

  She whirled around and greeted him with a guilty look. “I wanted to see what kind of horses you kept in town.”

  “And what was your conclusion?”

  “That you have some decent animals.” She nodded her head toward the chestnut. “Is he a hunter? Have you given him a try in the field? He looks like he’d take a fence nicely.”

  “Yes, and no,” Val replied. “Miss Foster, I must remind you that you are in London now. You are not to wander off without telling anyone where you are going.”

  “Afraid I intend to run away?” she demanded with a saucy look.

  “If only I could be so lucky,” he muttered. “No, it is for your own safety. Young ladies do not traipse around the city unescorted.”

  “I did not think walking the half block to the mews would cause a commotion,” she replied.

  “I wished to speak with you, and when I couldn’t find you, I grew concerned.”

  “You have found me,” she said. “What did you wish

  to say?”

  Val ran an exasperated hand through his hair. “Lord knows what it was; I have completely forgotten because I was caught up searching the house for you.”

  “Perhaps you wished to compliment me on my decorous greeting of you on my arrival.”

  Val feigned concentration. “I do not believe that was it.” “Or to say that you realize you have been mistaken in your actions and you are taking my brothers out of school and sending the lot of them back home.” She regarded him with a hopeful expression.

  “Ah yes, now I remember. I wished to discuss the plans for finding you a husband.”

  She sighed. “ ’Tis a pity your amnesia was not permanent.” Val ignored her remark. “Your brother assures me that you have not formed an attachment to any young man of your acquaintance.”

  Miss Foster laughed. “One of Nick’s friends? Hardly.”

  “Good. Then you will be open to suggestions.”

  She regarded him with open suspicion. “What, have you already chosen someone for me?”

  “I have not chosen anyone,” Val retorted. “This is the whole point of this discussion—I wished to get a sense of the type of man you would consider.”

  “Until you came into my life, I had no plans to wed, so I fear I cannot tell you what sort of man I would care to marry,” she said. “I have never given it a thought.”

  “Then you will be willing to rely on my guidance?”

  Sh
e stared at him, an incredulous look on her face. “Your guidance? What do you know of marriage? I would think Sophie a better guide than you. At least she has been married.”

  Val winced. She was right, of course. But Sophie was not the girl’s guardian, he was. “I have enough wisdom to advise you on such a serious matter. I consider myself to be a good judge of character.”

  She snorted derisively. “You’re hardly old enough to even be my guardian.”

  “Really, Miss Foster, we can go about this in two ways.”

  87

  Val glowered at her, his exasperation growing. “Either you can cooperate and all will go smoothly, or you can fight me every step of the way and we can both be miserable.”

  Her face reflected the emotions warring within her. Val could almost put words to the debate going on in her head.

  “It is rather foolish for us to be constantly at logger- heads,” she said at last. “After all, we will be living in the same house.”

  “Exactly.” Val smiled encouragingly.

  “It was kind of you to bring my horse to Newkirk Abbey,” she said at last. “I intended to thank you, but you already had left when I returned from my ride.”

  “I accept your thanks,” he said.

  She gazed at her toes. “And I really should apologize for shooting you. It was an unfortunate . . . incident.”

  “I believe that entire day was an ‘unfortunate incident,’ ” Val said, surprised but pleased by her words. “I believe we both acted hastily.”

  “I am willing to listen to your opinion about my future,” she said. “So long as you do not force me to marry anyone against my will.”

  “I would never do that,” Val protested with indignation. “Then I believe we shall manage to get along,” she said, and held out her hand. “Shall we cry truce?”

  Somewhat bemused by this rapid turn of events, Val shook the proffered hand. “Agreed.”

  She turned and looked back again at the chestnut. “I do not suppose you would let me ride ...” Her voice trailed off and she darted him a pleading glance.

  “Absolutely not,” he said. “While you are in London, you will ride like a lady, or not at all.”

  She sighed. “That’s what I thought you would say. I can tell you one qualification I shall have in a husband—he will let me ride as I please.”

  “I think that an excellent idea,” Val said. “Now, if you would allow me to escort you back to the house. I believe I left things in an uproar, and it would be good to assure everyone that you have been discovered, safe and sound.” With one last longing look at the chestnut, Miss Foster took his arm and walked with him down the length of the mews.

  “Promise me, Miss Foster,” Val said as they came out

  onto the street, “that in the future, you will not go out without an escort, and you will tell someone where you are going.”

  She made a face. “I can do that.”

  “It is for your own safety,” he added.

  “I appreciate your guardianlike concern for me.”

  Val ignored the sarcasm in her words.

  Sophie greeted them at the door, exclaiming that she just knew Kat was fine and where had Val found her and come upstairs at once so they could make plans for the next day’s shopping. With a shake of his head, Val let them go and retreated to his study.

  Val told himself not to be overly concerned, things would work themselves out. He felt much better after that conversation in the mews; he judged that he and Miss Foster had achieved an understanding of sorts and surely matters would go on better than they had. He’d find a husband for both her and his sister. Then he would have taken care of all his obligations and no longer would have to worry about either of them. He could do what he pleased, when he pleased, without a single thought for anyone but himself.

  What would he do then?

  Travel, he thought. The ultimate expression of freedom. No plans, no itinerary; he would go where his whims took him. Not France or Spain—he’d seen enough of those two countries to last him a lifetime.

  Italy might be pleasant—warm weather without the unpleasant memories of Spain. And if he grew tired of the warmth, he could go north, into Germany, or exotic Russia. And stay through the winter and see if all the tales he’d heard were true: snow from October to May, with travel possible only by sleigh, and packs of ravenous wolves prowling the byways.

  It would be a welcome change from London. During all those years in Spain he’d thought of nothing but returning home; yet its appeal had quickly faded once he found himself here. Now he looked forward to leaving.

  Chapter Nine

  In the morning, Sophie took Kat for her first shopping foray in London. After their slow-paced days at Newkirk Abbey, Kat was amazed at Sophie’s energy. No shop was too small, or too crowded, to discourage her interest. Every item on display required a detailed inspection, critique, and then acceptance or rejection. And Sophie had not exaggerated when she said she could spend hours deciding on a pair of gloves. Kat traipsed along through six shops before Sophie found the exact color of stockings she was looking for.

  Yet Kat reluctantly found herself drawn in by Sophie’s excitement. First, it had been the hair ribbons that Sophie said brought out the color of her eyes. Then it was the fan with the carefully painted hunting scene. From the enthusiasm of the shopkeeper at the sale, Kat guessed that it was not a popular motif, but she liked it much better than the ones with silly flowers.

  Then she discovered the toy shop, sandwiched between a print house and one of the countless milliners that seemed to be present on every block. Grabbing Sophie by the arm, Kat pulled her inside and inspected the wares with the critical eyes of her brothers.

  They all needed whistles, and clever wooden noisemakers that popped loudly when you pushed the handle. Kat knew she would regret these purchases later, when they were all together again, but right now she could not wait to be surrounded by the noise all three of them would make. For Tom, she bought a silly cap, with pointed ends like a medieval court jester’s, while for Sam, she chose a black-and- white harlequin’s hat.

  For Eddie, she settled on a small version of a cavalryman’s shako. She looked longingly at the rolling hoops, battledore rackets, and shuttlecocks sporting full complements of feathers, unlike the pitifully ragged ones at home, but realized they would be too difficult to send. She would come back later and buy those when she knew they were coming home.

  Or going to their new one, if she must marry. She had not thought about that.

  “Are you quite done?” Sophie asked as Kat waited for the last of her purchases to be wrapped. The long-suffering footman, who had accompanied them all across town, stood beside her, awaiting his new burden.

  “For now,” Kat replied.

  “Good.” Sophie smiled. “I need to find some new feathers for my straw bonnet.”

  Kat looked at her with dismay. “I thought you were finished shopping for the day.”

  “Finished?” Sophie looked at her with an amused look on her face. “My dear girl, we have barely begun.”

  Kat groaned inwardly. She’d had enough of shopping to last her for weeks, yet Sophie wanted more.

  It reminded Kat that despite their growing friendship, she and Sophie were very different people. While Kat might be curious or intrigued by the city, she would never want to five here. Yet she could see that Sophie was perfectly at ease amid the noise and bustle.

  And what of Newkirk? Did he prefer the city as well? Kat had not seen enough of him in either place to venture an opinion. She hoped he was a country gentleman at heart, for she thought that would make him more sympathetic to her pleas.

  It was half past six when the carriage finally rolled up in front of Newkirk’s house. There was barely room for their feet in the cramped vehicle as packages spilled off the overcrowded seat facing them.

  “Take everything into the drawing room,” Sophie said to the footman. “I shall sort things out there.”

  Kat follow
ed her up the stairs.

  “Oh, look, mail!” Sophie exclaimed, grabbing the pile on the round Queen Anne table inside the drawing room door.

  “Val must have done his work well—these look like invitations already. And here—two letters for you.”

  Kat’s heart leaped. “From my brothers?” she asked eagerly, snatching them from Sophie’s hand.

  Yes! One from the twins and the other, the writing smudged and the paper dirty and crumpled, was from Eddie.

  She clasped them to her chest. “I’m going to my room,” she said, and raced out into the hall and up the stairs. She wanted to be alone to savor these treats.

  It was about time those rascals wrote to her. She’d sent them countless letters already, and this was their first reply. Yet all would be forgiven once she read their news.

  She opened the one from the twins first and began reading. But as she read down the page, her dismay grew. They were having a wonderful time. They loved their school. They’d bested everyone with their prowess at tying knots, admitted that mathematics was not all that fun, but found geography exciting. And next month they were going to go aboard a real ship for a short sail. The letter ended with a long list of things that she absolutely had to send them.

  Kat felt tears prick at her eyes. This was what she had feared most about Newkirk’s plans—that once her brothers were away and involved in their new studies, they would no longer need her.

  She told herself it had to happen eventually; the twins were old enough to no longer need mothering, but mere sisterly guidance. Still, she felt a sharp pang of loss knowing the spell of the navy and life at sea had already caught their imaginations. Home would forever seem tame by comparison. Even worse, they probably would no longer want to come home even if she could persuade Newkirk to let them.