The Defiant Miss Foster & A Highly Respectable Widow

by Melinda McRae

  Damn him.

  She set their letter aside and slowly opened the one from her youngest brother, almost afraid to read it, fearing that he, too, would be enthralled with his new school and friends. If Eddie no longer needed her, what was she to do?

  But his first words reassured her—and made her all the more worried. He pleaded to come home, saying he hated school, hated his classmates, hated the teachers, the food, the sleeping rooms—in short, everything.

  Kat sucked in her breath. How could Newkirk have sent him to such a horrid place? It sounded more like a prison than a school. The poor child! She had to get him away from there as soon as possible. Even Newkirk would have to agree after reading this letter.

  She grabbed up the missive and ran back downstairs to see if the baron was at home.

  The footman directed her to the study at the rear of the house. She knocked at the door, then marched in without waiting for an answer. Newkirk sat by the tall windows overlooking the garden, a book in his hand.

  “Good day, Miss Foster. Was your shopping expedition with my sister a success?”

  She thrust the letter at him. “You must read this.”

  He took the letter and quickly scanned the contents, then handed it back to her without comment.

  “See how miserable he is?” she said. “You must let me rescue him.”

  “I see a lad who is slightly homesick, but he doesn’t appear to be in imminent danger.”

  “He’s miserable!” she cried. “How can you allow him to suffer like that?”

  “Did it ever occur to you that he might be trying to paint the most piteous picture possible to gamer your sympathy—and perhaps a large box of sweets?”

  Kat drew herself up stiffly. “Eddie would not fabricate such stories.”

  “There is very little that I wouldn’t expect that rascal to try,” Newkirk replied. “If he was truly having difficulties, I would hear from the headmaster. There have been no letters, so I think it is safe to assume that your brother is doing fine.”

  “I want to see for myself,” Kat insisted.

  “Well, you cannot,” he replied. “For the moment, your concerns lay here in town.”

  “How can you be so cruel?” Kat demanded.

  “It is far crueler to keep the lad tied to your apron strings,” he said.

  “He’s only eight!”

  “As are the rest of his schoolmates, and I doubt their mothers—or sisters—are carrying on like this.”

  “Don’t you have any feelings at all?” She searched his face for a trace of sympathy for her plight, but his stern expression did not melt. How could this man continue to be so ... so unfeeling? Didn’t Eddie’s words move him at all? Had all those years of war hardened his heart against any of the human kindnesses?

  “Treating him like an infant is not doing him any favors,” Newkirk replied. “Believe me, any lad who can tie me to a chair is brave enough to handle anything.”

  She stamped her foot in frustration. “Why won’t you listen to me?”

  “Because, Miss Foster, in this matter I do not think you are right. I suggest you send a letter to your brother, filled with news of your activities and no mention of his complaints, and I am willing to wager that he will reply that he is having the time of his life.”

  “And if he does not?”

  “We can discuss that if the situation arises.”

  “You must have had a miserable childhood,” she said at last, “if you cannot feel for his suffering.”

  He gave her an impassive look. “As a matter of fact, I did. And that is why I know that his complaints are not serious.”

  She stared at him, taken aback by his answer. Then, irritated that she could not think of a quick rejoinder to his remark, she turned her back on him and stomped out of the room.

  Just when she thought that Newkirk was not the ogre she had originally considered him, he showed his true colors. All his conciliatory words had been a sham. How was she ever going to persuade him to let the boys come home when Eddie’s tale of woe did not move him?

  Kat would write to Eddie this very minute, and if he put one single word of complaint in his reply, she would take Newkirk’s carriage herself and retrieve her brother. That would teach Newkirk to ignore her concerns.

  Val sighed as the door slammed shut behind her. He honestly sympathized with her worries, knew the pain she was feeling, even if it was unwarranted. If a few poorly cooked meals and a boring Latin class were the only things that troubled her brother, he was a lucky fellow.

  She had to learn to let her brothers—even young

  Eddie—live their own lives. It had been one thing for her to oversee their every action while they were without any adult guidance, but she was not their mother; she had done far more than any sister should have been asked to. That was ultimately his father’s fault—as so many things were.

  Amazingly, Val realized that he no longer felt the old hatred welling up in him at the thought of the man. If he felt anything at all, it was indifference—and resignation. The past was done and gone. All the wishful thinking in the world would not change it. He could only marvel that he had survived it all—and that Sophie had emerged unscarred. If he had done one thing right in his life, protecting her from their father’s abusive behavior had been it.

  And if there was a particularly hot, burning pit in hell, he knew his father was roasting in it.

  All this he could not tell Miss Foster. She was suffering from the same sense of obligation that he had felt for his sister, the overwhelming urge to protect her from all the ills of the world, the fear that if she was out of his sight for even a moment, something horrible would happen. He’d guarded her carefully.

  Then, as part of the world’s ultimate jest, after guiding her safely into womanhood, seeing her happily wed, and thinking his mission a success, her world collapsed in a Belgium farmyard. He realized that nothing was ever under control for very long; that life would take the bends and turns that it would, and his power to influence matters was limited.

  Which was why he wanted to free Miss Foster from the responsibility for her siblings. Their lives would go on as they would, no matter what she did, and she needed to loosen her hold on the reins. She had her own life to live, and it was time that she lived it.

  Val had waited far too long to do the same for himself. He intended to spare her that regret, at least, even if it meant she was angry with him. What she saw as callous disregard for her brothers was really deep concern for her. Maybe someday she would realize that.

  And if not, well, he had not asked for this duty, so he should not expect to be thanked for it, either.

  “He is the most cruel, unfeeling, insensitive . .

  Adjectives failed Kat as she paced angrily across Sophie’s sitting room. She scowled at Sophie, seated on the sofa. “I hate him!”

  “It does sound as if your brother is not happy at his school,” Sophie said. “But do realize, he has only been there a short while. I remember when I first arrived at school that it took me several weeks before I was certain that I liked it.”

  “You were sent away to school?” Kat asked with surprise.

  “You make it sound so awful,” Sophie said. “It was wonderful fun. I was surrounded by other girls, learned a great many useful skills, and even enjoyed most of my education.”

  “Didn’t you miss being at home?”

  “Of course I did, but you must remember that I was alone by then. It was fun to be in the company of other girls.”

  “Did your parents send Val away to school, too?”

  A slight shadow crossed over her face. “No, he was educated at home.”

  “Then why is he so eager to send everyone else off to school?”

  “Perhaps because that was what he wanted for himself, and couldn’t have,” Sophie said.

  Kat sat down. “He said ... he said he had a miserable childhood. Is that what he meant?”

  Sophie frowned. “I think you will have to
ask Val exactly what he meant. Remember, we are eight years apart.”

  “But you must know something?” Kat pressed her.

  “My father ... my father was a difficult person,” Sophie said slowly. “I know that Val held him in the greatest dislike, although I do not know all the reasons. I realize now that he kept me sheltered from a great deal of . . . unpleasantness.”

  Kat thought about this. It might explain why Newkirk was so intent on ordering everyone else around, if he’d battled with his father as a youth. Now that he was in

  charge, he wanted to have his own way in everything. Even at her, and her brothers’, expense.

  Well, no matter what had happened in his childhood, he had no right to make others miserable now. She intended to make sure that Eddie was happy. And taking him out of that horrid school was the first step.

  A light tap sounded on Sophie’s door. A maid peeked in and caught Kat’s eye. “There is someone here to see you, miss.”

  “Me?” Kat looked at her. “Who could be here to see me?” “Who do you think, you gudgeon?” A tall man in a blue uniform pushed past the maid and stepped into the room.

  “Nick!” Kat shrieked, and raced to embrace him, all her anger forgotten at the thrill of seeing her brother again.

  He lifted her into the air with a crushing hug and then set her back on her feet. “Can this really be Kat? In such a comely frock? With her face washed and her hair combed? Are you sure you are really my sister?”

  Kat slugged him on the arm. “Oh, stop it. Look at you— all togged up like a toy soldier.”

  Nick stepped back and preened. “Isn’t it a dashing rig?” Kat scornfully examined his tailored blue jacket and the shiny gold buttons and the high-gloss polish of his tasseled Hessians, and snickered. “Is the object to frighten the enemy to death?”

  Nick looked crestfallen. “You don’t like it?”

  “I think you look magnificent.” Sophie walked over and held out her hand. “I fear we were never properly introduced when we last met. As you know, I am Sophie Bellshaw.” Nick bowed low. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Bellshaw.”

  “And you,” Sophie replied. “I’ve heard so much about you from your sister.”

  Nick laughed. “None of it good, I will wager.”

  “Of course not,” Kat said. “I used to think you were a pretty swell fellow, but after seeing this costume . . .” She shook her head and looked at Sophie. “Can we order tea? Or should we take it in the drawing room?”

  “You can order anything you wish and talk with your brother anywhere you want,” Sophie replied. “I told you to act as if this was your own house.”

  97

  “Better not tell her that,” Nick said. “She’ll be racing horses through the downstairs hall.”

  “Kat would do no such thing,” Sophie replied. “She is a refined young lady.”

  Both Kat and her brother burst into laughter.

  “This I must see,” Nick said.

  “You will get your chance,” Sophie replied. “You may accompany us about town—that is, if your military duties will allow.”

  “I believe we will have ample time for play,” Nick said.

  “And bring all your friends,” Sophie said. “We shall have the ladies swooning over your dashing uniforms.”

  “Or running in fright,” Kat muttered. She grabbed Nick’s arm and dragged him toward the door. “I’m going to take him downstairs and find out what he is really doing.”

  Nick took Sophie’s hand and bowed over it. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

  “Don’t you dare flirt with Sophie,” Kat warned him when they were in the hall.

  “Does she bite?”

  Kat slugged him on the arm again. “She’s far above your touch.”

  “I’m merely being polite to my guardian’s sister,” Nick protested.

  “Precisely,” Kat replied with a grin, then sobered as she remembered the important matter she had to discuss with him. “Oh, Nick, I’ve had the most heart-wrenching letter from Eddie. He’s perfectly miserable in that horrid school that Newkirk forced him to attend. We have to get him out of there.”

  “Oh, you know Eddie. He always makes things sound worse than they are.”

  “He could very well be speaking the truth. I want to go check on him and see if he is all right, but Newkirk won’t allow it.”

  “I agree with him. There’s no sense in causing a commotion if there is no need,” Nick said.

  “You are as heartless as Newkirk. He’s just a little boy,” she cried. “He’s never been away from home before, and who knows what horrible things could happen to him there.”

  “If Newkirk is not concerned, why should I be? He knows what’s best, after all.”

  “I cannot believe you are acting like this!” Kat cried. “You are as horrible as he is!”

  “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know you mother them far too much.”

  “Better too much than not at all.”

  Nick flung up his hands. “It is far more likely that the school will demand he leave for blowing up the headmaster’s study or locking all his classmates in the cellar. You don’t have to worry about him.”

  “Well, I do, and I thought at least you would show some concern for my feelings. But I forgot—you’re working hand in glove with Newkirk.”

  “Because I agree with him.”

  “I suppose you think I should get married, too?” “There is no reason for you not to, now that the boys are being looked after. What else are you going to do with yourself?”

  They had reached the hall leading to the drawing room, but instead of turning that way, Kat headed toward the front door.

  “From the moment he mentioned the word ‘commission,’ you have been his slave. You would agree with anything he said,” she complained. “I thought you would show some loyalty to your family, but I guess I was wrong.”

  “I think Newkirk is doing a bang-up job with the boys,” Nick replied. “Just because you’re unhappy doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be.”

  “Thank you so much for your visit,” she said sarcastically, and pulled the door open.

  “Mark my words, you’ll see the wisdom of his actions before long,” Nick said. “He has our best interests at heart.” “Hah!”

  Nick tried to give her a kiss on the cheek, but she ducked and left him himself kissing air instead. Frowning, he brushed past her, and she shut the door none too silently behind him.

  Everyone was against her. Everyone.

  And Nick, of all people, was so eager to please Newkirk that he would agree to anything their guardian said. She could no longer rely on her brother for any manner of support.

  Well, she would take matters firmly into her own hands and show him that she was not afraid to take on Newkirk. She would redouble her efforts to convince him that he was wrong and Eddie needed to come h,ome.

  And if Newkirk would not relent, she would find a man who sympathized with her cause and would agree to help her.

  Chapter Ten

  Kat pointedly ignored her guardian for the next two days and devoted herself to Sophie’s shopping excursions. But at last, she grew so thoroughly tired of shopping that she insisted to Sophie that they do something—anything—as long as it did not involve a shop. As she pointed out to Sophie, she was never going to meet any eligible men in a milliner’s establishment. Sophie suggested a drive in the park, and Kat readily agreed. She was disappointed, though, to discover that Newkirk’s coachman was assigned to drive them.

  “Why does your brother insist that his coachman drive?” Kat asked as the landau pulled out from in front of the house. “I’m perfectly capable of handling a team. And I know there are women who drive their own carriages.” “Perhaps Val thought you wouldn’t want to be burdened for your first drive in Hyde Park,” Sophie suggested. “This way, you can enjoy your surroundings.”

  “Hmm.” Kat had not considered that. And since she had not yet driven Newki
rk’s team, it was probably well that she did not take them on such a public display the first time. Not that she doubted her ability with the reins, but she did admit that the clogged London streets would be challenging even to the sharpest whip.

  “I am certain he will let you drive later,” Sophie said. “And if he will not, I will.”

  “I can teach you how as well,” Kat said.

  Sophie regarded her doubtfully. “I am not certain that I really want to learn.”

  “It’s a useful skill,” Kat insisted. “What if you are kidnapped by some unscrupulous fortune hunter? Stealing his carriage and driving back to town may be the only way to save yourself.”

  “Now, that is a real concern of mine,” Sophie replied dryly.

  Kat grinned. “You did consider it for a moment, didn't

  you?”

  Sophie nodded and they both laughed.

  It was only a short distance from Bruton Street to the park entrance at Grosvenor Gate, and soon they joined the few other carriages circling the park.

  “It is light of company today,” Sophie said. “Which is all to the good as I do not want anyone of importance to see me dressed like this.”

  She was still wearing her “old” clothes. Kat agreed with Newkirk—they looked perfectly lovely and were far grander than anything she herself owned, but Sophie kept insisting they were woefully out of style. Tomorrow, they were scheduled to visit the modiste and come away with the first of their new gowns.