The Defiant Miss Foster & A Highly Respectable Widow

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The Defiant Miss Foster & A Highly Respectable Widow Page 44

by Melinda McRae


  Katherine gathered her wits and edged away toward the house. “Thank you for the drive. I look forward to the theater tonight.”

  “So do I,” said Belton as he climbed back into the carriage and drove away.

  Why had she felt the need to feign enthusiasm for their outing tonight? At times, she found Belton’s solicitous kindness overwhelming. She was grateful and appreciative, but also felt guilty that those were her only reactions to his attentions. His tentative squeeze of her fingers had not sent a thrill of delight up her spine. His offer to explain the role of impure ladies to Robbie had been generous, but bordered on an intimacy with her family that she was not certain she wished to acknowledge.

  Why was it that whenever she began to imagine she could find some form of happiness with Belton, or someone like him, Knowlton always appeared on the scene and exposed her wishes for the lies they were? He loomed as a nemesis in her life, unwilling to free her from his unnatural hold. She had never been one to pursue lost causes, but for some reason her heart had been frozen forever with the image of Knowlton engraved upon it. She fought, railed,

  and kicked against his hold, but she could not free herself from his grasp.

  And now he flaunted his present mistress in front of all the town, a constant reminder to Katherine that he had once intended her for that role. It only marked her failure as complete. She had been nothing more than a passing fancy to him. How she wished she could say the same of Knowlton. Memories of that torrid embrace at Warrenton were ground into every fiber of her body. She could no more cut them away than she could cut off a finger or toe. Would she have to live with them for the remainder of her life?

  By the time she had reached her room, Katherine felt the beginning of an enormous headache. Her temples throbbed and it was all she could do to grit her teeth and endure while the maid helped her from her dress. Katherine gratefully curled up in a ball and pulled the covers over her head to shut out the world.

  The last person Knowlton had expected to encounter in the park that morning was Katherine—and Robbie. What fool impulse had guided him into taking that Cyprian riding? He had been less than enchanted at their first dealings, but since that seemed to be his reaction to every woman he took to bed these days, he had decided to give her another chance. By the time they returned to her set of rooms, any flickerings of desire had fled. He gave her a vague promise of a future engagement, and returned the horses to the mews.

  What was wrong with him? This was a thousand times worse than his ennui of the previous spring. Then, it had been a general but vague dissatisfaction. Now it was a yawning chasm of disinterest. He had spent the better part of a month working his way through the muslin company, and not one single woman had inspired him to a repeat visit. In fact, he had more than once been inclined to depart before the activities commenced. But he soldiered on, needing to prove to himself that this was only a temporary aberration.

  And what was worse, these numerous liaisons did little to slake his burning need. His expression darkened. Even at the moment of release, he felt the dissatisfaction welling up within him again, his desires unsatisfied. Not since Kate . . .

  As he entered his bedchamber he rippled off his cravat and flung it across the dressing table in a fit of anger. There was nothing special about her. It had only been that long, seductive courtship that had heightened his interest so. He laughed derisively. How could he possibly compare a few fumbling kisses with a prim-and-proper widow to the pleasures of the most skilled courtesans of the city? It was obvious that his mind merely exaggerated the effect of Kate’s kisses.

  He only needed to look to her escort to convince himself of that. Belton was as dull a fellow as he could imagine— and it seemed every time he saw Kate she was in the prosy bore’s company. He laughed harshly. They suited each other. She might be breathtakingly beautiful, but her manner was quite ordinary. She only wanted a respectable husband, a house full of screaming brats, and the usual round of ladies’ teas and gossip. He was lucky she had refused him—else he would have been forced to cast her off quite soon, he was certain.

  No, he had made a great error in judgment regarding Kate Mayfield. He had allowed lust to blind him to her true nature. It angered him that he had wasted so much time and thought on her.

  To her regret, Katherine’s headache departed during the long afternoon, and she could devise no valid reason to excuse herself from the theater that evening. A night of Castalia’s lighthearted prattle and Belton’s increasingly overwhelming attentions would do little to improve her spirits. Despite her misgivings, she found herself that evening seated next to Belton in the marquess’s box at Drury Lane.

  Katherine sat deep in her own musings throughout the production, oblivious of the words spoken onstage. It was a surprise when the final lights rose and the theatergoers began to stream from their seats.

  “You were very quiet tonight,” Belton remarked as he escorted her through the corridor.

  “I found the play very diverting,” she lied smoothly. “Did you not find it so?”

  She turned to look at Belton, and was startled to see the man who stood by his side. Katherine’s step faltered at the sight of Knowlton and the overdressed woman with him, and she gripped Belton’s arm tightly to keep from stumbling.

  “Belton, Lady Robert.” Knowlton inclined his head in greeting.

  In the crowded corridor she was trapped, and short of ignoring him completely, there was little Katherine could do to make her dismay known. Giving Knowlton the cut direct would cause worse gossip than to be spotted here chatting with him as if ... as if he did not have that kind of woman on his arm. She nodded in a fractional acknowledgment.

  Appraising the woman at his side, Katherine realized with a shock that it was not the same one he had been with that morning. The brunette was brazenly beautiful, expensively dressed, and clinging to Knowlton’s arm as if her life depended upon it. Which it might, Katherine thought wryly, remembering how generous his offer to her had been.

  She was grateful for Belton’s gentle tug on her arm. Katherine could not have consciously moved.

  Knowlton smiled his mocking grin. “So nice to see you again, Lady Robert.” He stepped aside to let them pass.

  “The nerve of that man.” Belton was furious. “The insult to you . . .”

  “I did not perceive it as such,” Katherine replied, trying to compose her own shattered nerves. Had Knowlton sought her out deliberately to flaunt his lightskirt before her? Did he taunt her on purpose, showing her that he had no problem finding other women to fill his bed?

  “It was not at all the thing.”

  “The less said, the better,” Katherine replied curtly, which only had the effect of eliciting an odd glance from Belton. She firmly directed her gaze straight ahead. This day had been an unmitigated disaster and she only wished to go home.

  But the mansion in St. James Square provided no refuge, and Katherine lay awake long into the night. Today had been full of revelations. Knowlton was certainly doing nothing to demonstrate the qualities that had so endeared him to her. In fact, it looked as if he was embarking on a course of dissipation that surpassed even his own reputation—two ladies in one day! It was outside of enough to have been in Belton’s presence at both encounters.

  Belton’s reaction to each situation gave her pause. He cared for her, she knew. There was every likelihood he would make her an offer. Katherine only wished to stay his hand for a while longer, until she could bring some semblance of order to her confused mind. She was in no position to make any critical decisions right now.

  Especially since she had discovered just how strong her feelings for Knowlton still were. It would take only the slightest encouragement from him to bring them to the fore again. She had thought she had resigned herself to the situation. After all, he had brutally dashed all her hopes with his cold-blooded offer of protection. She wondered if there was any way to accomplish that task. She would pay gladly for the solution.

  Over
the next weeks it seemed she encountered Knowlton everywhere. He was often in the park, driving a carriage or riding alongside a changing panoply of women, each lovelier than the last. At the parties where their kind would not be welcome, he was seen at the side of various ladies about whom rumors circulated, but who still were held to be of the highest ton. The only mote of comfort Katherine could derive from all this was that she rarely saw him with the same woman twice. Was that significant? Or was he just embarking on a new streak of licentiousness that would put his old reputation to shame?

  The unexpected arrival in town of Elizabeth and her husband was one of the few bright spots in Katherine’s existence. She eagerly accepted their invitation to dine, hoping there would be time for a long chat with Elizabeth.

  “I am so pleased you could come on such short notice,” Elizabeth greeted Katherine warmly. “I had no intention of being in London this spring, but when Somers needed to come to town, I decided to accompany him. It may be my last chance to get out in a while!”

  Katherine smiled warmly as Elizabeth patted the notable bulge in her abdomen. She had missed Elizabeth’s company, particularly over the last month, as her misery over Knowlton grew.

  “I understand you have acquired a very attentive suitor.” Elizabeth’s voice was teasing.

  Katherine ducked her head modestly. “It is an unexceptionable relationship.”

  “Unexceptionable?” Elizabeth laughed heartily. “Katherine, the entire town is talking about you and Belton. I would not be surprised to find it in the betting book at White’s.”

  Anger crossed Katherine’s face. “Do not those silly men have better things to do with their time?”

  Elizabeth patted her hand. “Now, now. You must admit that your mysterious appearance last fall had all the tongues wagging. People were bound to notice, whatever you did.”

  “How many are coming for dinner tonight?” Katherine firmly changed the subject.

  “Oh, a few close friends.” Elizabeth airily waved her hand.

  Elizabeth’s idea of a “few” was slightly different from her own, Katherine shortly discovered, for it numbered closer to twenty. Most were familiar faces, and Katherine soon found herself drawn into conversation.

  She had just accepted a glass of wine from her host when a familiar voice caused her to freeze. Knowlton! She was instantly filled with anger. Elizabeth had deliberately not told her he would be here. She scanned the crowded drawing room, trying to catch her friend’s eye. Their gazes met momentarily, then Elizabeth looked away in embarrassment. Katherine vowed to give Elizabeth a piece of her mind when they were next alone.

  Katherine’s discomfort reached new heights when she saw the seating arrangements had placed her on Knowlton’s left! She halted beside the table, looking for any other place to sit, but it would have caused a dramatic commotion to displace another. Biting back her anger, she allowed the footman to seat her.

  “I believe Elizabeth is playing games this evening.” Knowlton leaned imperceptibly toward Katherine, speaking in a low undertone.

  “Quite,” she replied stiffly.

  “I do not find it a totally intolerable situation. Do you not concur, Lady Robert?”

  Katherine winced at his inflection. “You know perfectly well how awkward this is—for both of us.”

  “How so?” His eyes lit mischievously. “I am never averse to sitting beside a beautiful lady.” His voice dropped lower. “And you are exceptionally lovely tonight, Kate.”

  “Do not call me that,” she hissed, keeping her gaze firmly on her plate.

  “My apologies, Lady Robert. I forget you hold a more exalted position these days.”

  Katherine fought down the overwhelming urge to empty her wineglass over his head. He knew exactly how uncomfortable she was, and he was doing everything he could to make her discomfort worse. She would throttle Elizabeth when this was over.

  As if to confound her, Knowlton conversed with her no more for the remainder of the meal. But he made his presence constantly known. With only a hairbreadth of distance between their chairs, it was no challenge for his muscular thigh to press against hers. The first time he made contact, Katherine nearly jumped at the shock to her senses. He turned slightly, surveying her with a mocking grin before returning his attention to the lady on his right. Then all too soon she felt his foot rubbing against her ankle.

  “Stop that!” she whispered. He did not indicate he heard, but she no longer felt his touch.

  Whatever appetite she had once possessed vanished completely. Katherine toyed with the idea of feigning illness, but such an announcement would only draw unwanted attention. Perhaps if she ignored him . . .

  She nearly jumped up from her chair when she felt his fingers stroke sensuously along her leg while he pretended to fumble for his napkin. She quickly slipped her own hand down to her lap, but he caught her fingers in his, squeezing them so tightly she nearly winced.

  As the dinner dragged on for an interminable time, Katherine grew close to tears. Why did he seek to humiliate her so? He knew she had put their relationship behind her; knew that when she had refused his offer she had determined on a life that did not include him. She had made her choice; why would he not accept it?

  Knowlton kept Katherine under close study. She was thoroughly uncomfortable, he noted with malicious pleasure. He had felt her startled movement when he furtively rubbed her thigh. His touch still had the power to thrill her. Despite the modest front she maintained before the ton, it was obvious that there was still a trace of passion left within his wanton little widow. He fought down the heat rising in his own body. He was firmly in control of this situation. He only wanted to see how far he could push her. Knowlton blessed Elizabeth’s seating arrangement. This was the most entertaining evening he had enjoyed in weeks.

  “Pardon me,” he said, reaching past Kate for the salt cellar. He made certain his arm brushed against hers. He smiled at the faint flush that rose in her cheeks, and pressed his thigh against her again, watching her heightened color. Lord, she blushed like an angel.

  Pretending to pay attention to his food, he surreptitiously watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Whoever was making her dresses certainly knew how to set off those snowy breasts to perfection, he thought. Kate was obviously not covering her assets with a demure neckline. Of course, he thought scornfully, she was more likely to snare a husband with such a prominent display of her charms. He rubbed his leg against hers and saw how quickly her breathing increased.

  He knew he could get her alone if he wished. Her reaction to him tonight told him she was less indifferent to his presence than she pretended. It might be just the thing to stifle this maddening obsession he had for her. He had the opportunity now to make a very deliberate comparison of her talents. He felt certain she would not live up to his inflated memory.

  The more he thought on it, the more he embraced the idea. He could contrive some excuse for drawing her away from the other guests. It would take only a few moments to whisk her away to some unoccupied room, where he could avail himself of another sample. He needed to set his mind at rest about her once and for all. Knowlton grinned in anticipation.

  When the ladies at last rose to retire to the drawing room, Katherine immediately sought out Elizabeth.

  “What could you have been thinking of to seat me next to Knowlton?” she demanded.

  “Oh, dear. Did I create a problem?” Elizabeth was all wide-eyed innocence.”

  “The man is a total boor,” Katherine said bitterly.

  “How dreadful.” Elizabeth sounded truly sympathetic. “I had thought you were friends, at least.”

  “We are not,” Katherine said stonily. “I feel perfectly dreadful, I have a throbbing headache, and I only wish to go home. Can you order the carriage round?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Wait in the library. I will explain to the other guests that you are unwell.” She pressed Katherine’s hand. “I am truly sorry. I had no idea I would create such a disaster.�
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  Katherine offered her a woebegone smile. “I know you meant no harm. But he has changed, somehow, from the man I knew last fall, and I do not like the new Knowlton.”

  After making her way to the library, Katherine gratefully sank into one of the deep upholstered chairs. It would be some minutes before the Wentworths’ carriage would be ready to take her home. At least here, in the darkened shadows, she could relax and try to will her headache away.

  In the cozy heat of the room, the tension drained from her body and the pounding in her head was reduced to a mild tapping. Katherine lay back in the chair, eyes closed. Shortly she would be home in her own bed; by tomorrow she would feel quite the thing again.

  Knowlton slipped silently into the room, grinning at his discovery of Katherine’s hiding place. “So this is where you have hidden yourself.” He stood before her, hands on hips. “You need not have gone to such great lengths, Kate. You could hardly expect me to ravish you in full view of all the company.”

  Her eyes snapped open at his mocking tones. “With your behavior at dinner as an example, I would not put such a thing past you,” she said, her voice filled with scorn.

  “My, we are upset. What you need is a good glass of brandy to relax you.” Knowlton turned to the side table and filled two glasses.

  Katherine looked down as he forced a tumbler into her

  hand, and she did not see him circle behind her. She jumped when she felt the touch of his hands on her shoulders.

  “Do not touch me.” She shrugged out of his grasp.

  “Oh, but, Kate, you are so tense. Let me ease the knots from those muscles.” He began kneading the base of her neck.

  Even with his gloves on, the touch of his fingers sent a delicious thrill dancing through her body. Perhaps if she ignored him he would tire of this new game and go away.

  “Drink,” he commanded, and she obediently took a swallow from the glass in her hand.

 

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