by Diana Quincy
“Are you well?” Laurie’s solicitous voice broke into her thoughts.
“Of course,” she answered, while her conscience continued to berate her. “Why do you ask?”
“You seem out of sorts.”
She bristled inwardly, but answered with calm civility. “I am a little. I’ve misplaced Vera.”
That caught Toby’s attention. “Not to worry, Kat. I just saw that mutt of yours with Rand.”
Kat’s cheeks warmed. Cutting a guilty glance toward her parents, she found them engrossed in conversation with her aunt. “Oh well, thank goodness for that,” she replied in an easy tone. “I should go and retrieve her this afternoon.”
“Why would the earl be in possession of your animal?” Laurie asked, taking a sip of his wine.
“Fanny and I came across him in Kensington Gardens.” She favored her betrothed with an engaging smile—one that usually distracted him sufficiently enough to head off any uncomfortable exchanges. “Then I remembered you were due to arrive shortly, so I rushed back to prepare myself to receive you.”
It had the desired effect. The heat of interest sparked in Laurie’s admiring eyes as they ran over her. “You are in excellent looks today.” He reached for a hand and placed a kiss at her fingertips. “I’m a most fortunate man.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Kat replied in the playful saucy manner she knew he loved.
Laurie’s heated gaze held hers until Bea’s words drew their attention. “I am surprised Vera let you leave her behind.”
Laurie leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “It is peculiar. Usually the animal is stuck at your side.”
Kat frowned. They were right. She’d been so wrapped up in her encounter with Edward that she hadn’t given Vera’s strange behavior much thought. A most loyal creature, the dog rarely left her side. And yet the animal had instantly fallen under Edward’s spell. Apparently the man had the same effect on all females. It was strange, though, how staunchly Vera had stayed by Edward’s side—almost as if she were guarding him.
The gentlemen rose and followed Kat’s father to the library for drinks and cheroots. Kat’s mother and Aunt Winifred rose and headed to the parlor, leaving Kat and Bea alone in the garden.
Bea moved closer, taking the seat next to Kat with a conspiratorial expression on her face. “I saw the Amazon today.”
Bile rose in Kat at the thought of the woman who could very well be Edward’s mistress. “Where?”
“She was at Madame de Lancy’s.” The Amazon patronized the same fashionable modiste that Kat herself frequented? “You should have seen her in the dressing area, walking around without a care for modesty. She even took off her chemise when Madame’s girls took her measurements.”
Kat was truly shocked. “No!”
“Yes.” With a vigorous nod, Bea gestured to her own décolletage. “And they are enormous.”
Kat regarded her own modest attributes in that area. Had Edward compared her breasts unfavorably to the Amazon when he’d touched her intimately in the gardens? Chagrin arrowed through her at the thought.
“She ordered all sorts of things, even intimate things,” Bea was saying. “And you’ll never guess who she said the bill should be sent to.”
“Who?” Kat asked with a sinking feeling.
“The Earl of Randolph.”
Her stomach felt queasy. “So not only is she his mistress, but she doesn’t even attempt to hide the fact.”
“She didn’t announce it loudly or anything, but I was behind the curtain changing and I overheard her.”
Unable to contemplate hearing any more, Kat rose in a strident motion. “Let’s find Laurie and Toby and insist that they amuse us.”
Bea stood and linked her arm with Kat’s as they walked through the French doors that led into the empty dining room. “She was most kind.”
“Who?”
“The Maid of Malagon, of course.”
“You conversed with her?”
“Oh yes. Elena said we must go riding in Hyde Park.”
“Elena?” Kat’s eyebrow rose. “You are on familiar terms?”
Bea nodded. “I quite like her. She is most amusing. Fighting off an entire regiment of French soldiers. Whoever heard of a female receiving a commendation for war-time bravery? She is quite the heroine.”
…
The Maid of Malagon was also the topic of conversation between Laurie and Toby in the library. They stood off in the corner while the Earl of Nugent sat at his desk, conferring with his man of business about some newly-arisen emergency at his country estate.
Laurie eyed the amber liquid in his glass. “I gather she is Randolph’s mistress,” he said, not bothering to disguise his distaste.
“Most assuredly,” Toby answered.
Laurie thought of the proud, unapologetic way the Spanish woman carried herself. “Has he set her up in an exclusive arrangement?”
Toby laughed. “Not likely. No man will ever own Elena, not even for a contracted period of time.”
Somehow that did not surprise Laurie. Elena Márquez-Navarro did not seem particularly conquerable. He had to admit though—however inappropriate her public and private conduct—the Maid of Malagon was a handsome woman. Her appeal was nothing like the exquisite delicate beauty his betrothed possessed, of course, but she was an appealing specimen nonetheless. And the body on her. Only a molly would fail to take notice of her bountiful curves. “She’s a lightskirt then.”
“I wouldn’t say that. She is a woman not bound by any sort of convention. Elena does what she wants, when she wants.”
They were interrupted by Kat and Bea, who took them off for a game of whist. Later, when the time came to depart, Laurie lingered after the others had gone. Casting an indulgent look in his direction, Kat’s parents tactfully withdrew to allow them to say their good-byes in private. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Laurie pulled Kat into the cloak room beneath the stairs.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, darting a look at the servant stationed in the front hall. “What will the footman think?”
Pulling her into his arms, he inhaled the subtle scent of violets. “He’ll think I want to steal a kiss from my betrothed.” He nuzzled her neck. “And he’d be quite correct in his assumption.”
A delicate blush bloomed on her cheeks. “You are incorrigible.” Despite her stern tone, she relented a bit in his arms.
Laurie had been unaccountably randy all afternoon so he took advantage of her softening. Bringing his lips down to taste hers, he nipped at her lower lip before allowing his tongue to invade her mouth with slightly less restraint than he usually showed in her presence. She stiffened for a moment and then seemed to decide to allow him the liberty.
He pulled her body up against his so that they were touching from hip to breast, her soft chest pressing against his while his tongue stroked hers. What would it feel like to have Elena Márquez-Navarro’s ample bosom crushed against him? The unbidden image caused the temperature of his blood to soar. He broke the kiss on a muttered oath, mortified to have insulted his betrothed by thinking of the Spanish jade during such an intimate moment.
“What is it?” Kat whispered, her cheeks flushed.
He inhaled. “You are just so lovely that if I don’t restrain myself now, I fear I won’t be able to stop.”
Doubt flashed in her eyes, making him hate himself. “Are you angry with me?”
“Not at all.” He pressed a gentle kiss on her lips before guiding her out of their hiding place. “I just can’t wait to make you my wife so I can have you all to myself.”
Taking his leave, he bounded down the front outside stairs with his blood still running hot. For the first time in his memory, he was relieved to be out of his betrothed’s company. What was wrong with him? To think of the Spanish jade while kissing his future wife was the height of disrespect. He’d been faithful to Kat since before their betrothal, which could explain his body’s current state of agitation. And since the Ma
id of Malagon made no secret of being free with her favors, perhaps it was natural for a man to think of her in a carnal way.
His thoughts turned to Gentleman Jackson’s. Throwing a few punches would be just the thing to settle his body. Dismissing any further thought of Randolph’s mistress, he quickened his step in the direction of the boxing saloon.
Chapter Six
Rand directed his mount off Queen’s Road and through the high gates leading to the King Street Pensioners’ Hospital, a home for elderly and injured soldiers. Some of his men lived here now and he was of a mind to check in on them.
Riding up to the faded brick building, he alighted and handed the reins to a groom before striding toward the entrance and into the generous vestibule. Walking across clean-swept marble floors, he made his way to the library where his men could often be found. He scanned the space where older residents, veterans of the war in the colonies, and younger soldiers from the Peninsular Wars, sat talking, smoking, playing cards, or reading. Some were missing limbs or bore other signs of debilitating permanent injuries.
Unable to spot his men, he was directed out to the courtyard where he found more than a dozen pensioners, old and young alike, gathered in a circle. Even from a distance, instead of the usual murmur of masculine voices, he heard a familiar lilting feminine laugh rise from the center of the group.
His pulse quickened. “What the devil is Kat doing here?” he said aloud to no one in particular.
“I told her not to come, but she insisted.”
He spun around to find Toby, wearing a relatively muted burgundy tailcoat over a green-and-white striped waistcoat, leaning against a tall marble column. “You brought Lady Katherine here? What were you thinking?”
Toby shrugged. “Once Kat sets her mind to something, she is difficult to deter.”
“This is no place for a gentlewoman.” He looked back at the circle of pensioners. “How does she even know of this place?”
“The ladies were making donation baskets for the pensioners and when she learned I planned to deliver them in person, she insisted upon coming along.”
“For what purpose?” This bleak environment, filled with graphic visual reminders of the vagaries of war, was no place for a maiden.
“To do what the ton’s incomparable excels at—to regale them with her wit, charm, and beauty, to flirt and entertain.” Toby pushed off the column and came to stand next to Rand. “To take their minds off their troubles for a little while. At the moment, she is reading to them.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “I trust you will not be so foolish as to bring her here again.”
“I doubt I could stop my cousin. This is her sixth or seventh visit. I accompany her to ensure she comes to no harm.”
Muttering a few foul words, Rand edged closer to the group, which afforded him a view of the lady in question. Kitty sat on a stool wearing a soft blue day dress that brought out the deep sapphire color of her eyes. She read in an animated voice punctured by the occasional laughing smile. The pensioners surrounding her listened with rapt attention, obviously as spellbound by her undeniable aura as the high-born denizens of the ton. Kitty had surprised him again. Instead of accepting one of the numerous invitations she must surely receive, the reigning toast chose to pass the afternoon in decidedly unglamorous environs visiting wounded soldiers.
Something akin to pain shifted in his chest. He hadn’t laid eyes on Kitty since their chance meeting in the park three days ago. He still had her canine—the animal had resisted his footman’s attempt to return her—but once he reunited Vera with her mistress, he intended to cease all further contact with Kitty. The undeniable pull between them was too potent and too dangerous to her future for him to risk doing otherwise. Their encounter in Kensington Park demonstrated he remained as susceptible to her charms as he’d ever been. Neither time nor distance had altered the attraction. She was his sun, and when he was in her sphere, he could not resist her life-sustaining vitality.
When the story came to an end, she closed the book with a decisive snap and—appearing in no great hurry to escape the dreary surroundings—continued chatting with the soldiers, demonstrating her mastery of light flirtation.
“May I impose upon you,” Toby said to Rand “to stay with her for a few minutes while I dash up to the ward and look in on an old friend?”
Devil take it. “Be quick about it. I have a pressing engagement and must depart soon.” A lie, but one that would mercifully curtail his time in Kitty’s presence. Soon after Toby’s defection, the pensioners were called in for tea, leaving Rand with no choice but to spend a few minutes with her until her cousin’s return.
“I didn’t anticipate seeing you here,” she said coolly as he approached her. “You’ve been decidedly absent of late.”
“Your cousin has gone up to visit a friend. He asked me to look after you until his return.”
“Shall we walk then?” Not waiting for an answer, she turned and strolled in the direction of the gardens.
He followed. “It isn’t wise, you know, for a young, gently-bred lady to visit a pensioners’ home.”
“I should think you of all people would deem it proper to thank these men for their service.”
“Yes, well, you should be shielded from unpleasantness.”
“There is much unpleasantness from which I have not been shielded,” she said. “This is a trifle in comparison.”
A less than subtle reference to his abandonment of her. The bitter irony of his life was that going to war to win her had created the very reason they must now remain apart. They moved beyond a hedgerow, well into the gardens. Once they were out of the sight of others, she came to an abrupt stop.
“Are we ever going to discuss it?” She crossed her arms under her bosom, the soft flesh he’d caressed not so long ago. “Or is it your custom to paw a lady and then go about your business?”
He stiffened. “Is it an apology you desire? I offer it most profoundly then.”
Her blue eyes sparked. “I don’t want an apology and you know it. You return after many years, proceed to take liberties I have allowed no other man, and now you intend to proceed as though nothing occurred between us?”
Liberties she’d allowed no other man? Satisfaction swelled in him even though it shouldn’t have. “You are betrothed to another man.” He forced the words out through paralyzed lungs. “By all accounts, Sinclair is decent and can be expected to treat you well. Honor dictates that I withdraw, despite my appalling lapse in Kensington.”
She looked stricken. “Laurie is a good man, the best in fact. But I would do him a grave disservice by marrying him when my heart doesn’t belong to him.”
Breath whooshed out of him. She didn’t love Sinclair? “You are speaking without a care for your future. I am not the same man who left you.”
She stepped closer, showering him with the scent of violets, and her voice trembled with uncertainty. “I should hate you. I think a part of me does, but it is of no use.” Her eyes filled. “How can I wed Laurie when he is not the man I love?”
He couldn’t bear being this close and not touching her. He turned to go. “We should return.”
She gripped his arm. “Why do you keep leaving me?” She slid her hand down his arm to interlock her pale, tapered fingers with his. “Am I nothing to you?”
Heat rushed through him at the feel of her soft, delicate hand in his clumsy large one. His meager defenses crumbled. What a poor soldier he was in the battle to save Kitty’s future. “You are everything.”
He pulled her tight into his embrace and buried his face in the fragile turn of her pale neck, soaking up her scent. She sighed, melting into him when his lips sought hers, finding them soft and willing. He kissed her deeply, plunging his tongue into the wet cavern of her mouth with the full force of his passion for her. He explored the satiny softness of her cheek, the sweet womanly taste of her tongue, and immersed himself in the heaven of her feminine essence. Her breasts flattened against his che
st, her hips pushing up into him. His arousal swelled hard and heavy against her.
“Forgive me,” he said softly, trailing kisses down her neck, suddenly desperate for her to accept his apology. He could not offer her a lifetime, but she did deserve this much. “I was wrong to leave and never send word. You are the last person in Christendom that I would willingly hurt.”
“I’ll cry off,” she said, breathless. “And then we can be together.”
The words snapped him back to the reality of their situation and his insides went cold. He could never marry her. He couldn’t bear it if she were to witness one of his episodes. She’d likely regard him with a combination of pity, fear, and disgust. It was better that she despise him. He released her and pulled back in one abrupt motion. “You misunderstand.”
“But you just apologized—” Her pink cheeks were luminous against her porcelain complexion, the vivid shade of her eyes glittered in the afternoon sun.
“I do regret my treatment of you,” he said stiffly. “However, I don’t intend to marry anyone. Ever.”
Kitty’s delicate brows drew together. “What is wrong with you? Why do you insist on denying what is between us?”
To save you from me. He turned to go, walking out of the garden—and away from her—at a fast clip. “Toby will be looking for us. It is for the best to leave things as they are.”
She hastened beside him, keeping up with his strident pace despite her petite stature and much shorter legs. “In the same way leaving me to go fight your war was for the best? I suppose you believe abandoning your music is also for the best.”
“Things in the past cannot be changed.” He stared straight ahead, not daring to look at her. “It is best we move on.”
“Best for whom, I wonder.”
Emerging from the gardens, it relieved him to see Toby crossing the lawn, heading in their direction. “Ah, here’s Toby now.”
“Coward,” she muttered under her breath.