What a novel occurrence. A sense of humor that she had thought long dead was resurrected, and she replied with a hint of amusement, “Indeed, you are right, my dear, but you see, Almack’s is considered almost a shrine, an old revered meeting place for society. Though the rooms aren’t as elegant as one could wish, we hope that you won’t quite disdain it, and turn your attention rather to the people you will meet here.”
Kate, who was quite unaware of the terrifying rule over society held by Mrs. Drummond Burrell, decided after a brief moment of disappointment that the lady was but another supporter of the earl’s. Thus she did not unbend and flush to the roots of her hair at her rudeness, as those present expected. Rather, she turned and gazed briefly, with a distinct air of boredom, around the room. Very slowly, she raised incredulous eyebrows, turned back to the lady, and said, “Indeed, ma’am, I suppose that you could call this place a shrine. Or perhaps a relic would be more fitting. It appears that many of the people also fit that category.”
She would have said more, but she chanced from the corner of her eye to see Lady Bellingham’s face. She looked ready to collapse, her face as red as the ruby on her right hand. She didn’t want her own social ostracism to descend on the hapless Lady Bellingham. Thus she merely stared with complete indifference at the two patronesses, shrugged carelessly, and turned away.
16
Mrs. Drummond Burrell found herself vastly entertained by this unconventional girl, though perhaps “unconventional” was a bit too tame a word for her. She herself had just been blatantly insulted, as had many of the other ladies and gentlemen present. But she couldn’t bring herself to dash down the girl. She smiled, making the Countess Lieven, the silly woman, gasp with surprise. She said to Kate in a not unkind voice, “Stay for a moment and converse with me, my dear. The earl will, I’m certain, not begrudge me your company for a few moments.”
Julien wanted to laugh aloud at the look of utter bewilderment on her face but managed to bow deeply and say easily, “Miss Brandon finds herself honored, ma’am. I gladly relinquish her to you.”
“My dear St. Clair, I am quite certain that you don’t relinquish your betrothed willingly, but five minutes with her vastly interesting and unpredictable company shouldn’t leave you quite downcast.”
Julien met Mrs. Drummond Burrell’s eyes with a distinct gleam in his own, turned to Lady Bellingham, who stood with her mouth unbecomingly open. “Come, ma’am, we will leave Katharine and refresh ourselves with a glass of orgeat.”
Lady Bellingham promptly thrust her arm through his. It was she who bore him off.
Kate felt completely at sea. It didn’t seem possible that she’d not managed to disgrace herself. She was being asked to enjoy a civilized conversation with a forbidding lady whom she had grossly insulted. It was impossible, but it had happened. She’d been done in, and she had no idea how it had come about. Defeated, she dropped her cold disdain and seated herself gracefully in the chair next to Mrs. Drummond Burrell. As she felt no fear of the lady, she spoke openly and, had she but realized it, quite charmingly. She noticed the look of awe on the Countess Lieven’s face, but not understanding, she dismissed it and gave her full attention to the questions of Mrs. Drummond Burrell.
It was like a dousing of cold water when Mrs. Drummond Burrell remarked, “The St. Clair emeralds look as if they had been made especially for you, my dear. They always reminded me of heavy green stones on Caroline’s unprepossessing neck. Caroline is, of course, to be your mother-in-law, the late earl’s wife,” she added, turning back to Kate. She didn’t notice that Miss Brandon’s color had mounted, and continued to enthusiastically enumerate the shortcomings of the dowager countess of March, a weak ninny she’d always despised.
It was just as well that Mrs. Drummond Burrell didn’t expect any interruptions in her monologue, for Kate was so furious at the earl’s latest underhanded maneuver that it took all the control she could muster to cloak her anger from the patronesses. How very devious of Lady Bellingham to conveniently forget to mention that the emeralds belonged to the earl. She looked down at her reticule, wishing it was a club.
Mrs. Drummond Burrell smiled with great understanding at Miss Brandon’s distraction.
She looked up to see the earl approaching and leaned over and patted Kate’s hand. “Your betrothed approaches, my dear. Although the earl of March has been the object for many years of matchmaking mamas and indeed is a charming young man, I confess that I think him more the lucky one. You will make a fine countess, and I look forward to many more meetings with you. Your observations are most unexpected.”
Julien heard her last words and smiled with undisguised affection at Kate. The look was not lost on the two ladies, and for a brief instant they were drawn back in time, dusting off such magic moments of their own.
“I am, of course, in absolute agreement with you, ma’am. I count myself the most fortunate of men.”
Julien offered Kate his arm, and she rose and stood beside him.
Mrs. Drummond Burrell nodded her dismissal and said to Kate as she turned to go, “After you return from your wedding trip, I expect to see you, my dear.”
Kate didn’t realize it, but from that moment, her success in the ton was assured. Her intimate conversation with Mrs. Drummond Burrell was remarked by all present, and as Julien led her on the rounds of introductions, she was treated with a respect bordering upon awe. Because she was seething with anger, she responded with the most brief and clipped of phrases. Ladies and gentlemen vied to meet the seemingly proud but, of course, interesting Miss Katharine Brandon, even though she was only the daughter of a mere baronet and, rumor had it, utterly without a dowry.
When the band struck up a waltz, Julien turned in the direction of the two patronesses and arched his brow upward in a silent question. Mrs. Drummond Burrell waved her hand and nodded, a benign smile on her face.
“Come, Kate, dance with me. As you have observed, it’s mandatory for you to have the consent of the patronesses to dance the waltz. I have just secured that permission.”
He whirled her around to the fast German music and felt her body slowly relax against him as she gracefully followed his lead. He bent down, and her soft hair tickled his chin. “What, little termagant, no words of abuse this evening?”
Her head jerked up. “Damn you, my lord, this isn’t a play, I’m not so easily won as Petruchio’s Kate. Indeed, I believe her to have been an utter coward with no spine at all.”
His response was to tighten his grip about her waist. He was pleased to see a dull-red flush creep over her pale cheeks.
“You see, Kate,” he whispered close to her ear, “though you are but a girl, innocent in the ways of men and women, we both know that you are all fire and passion beneath that cold facade. Admit this to yourself, my dear. Stop fighting me. You must not be afraid, Kate, I will teach you. Never be afraid of me or the pleasure I offer you.”
Never before had he spoken to her with such ill-disguised intent. She suddenly felt very weak, and she could sense the color drain from her face. She tried to pull away from him, but he held her fast.
“Don’t give the world cause for comment. We are betrothed and in their eyes the happiest of couples. I’ll be gentle with you and easy and slow. You’ll be crying with pleasure before I come into you. Trust me in this. Don’t be afraid of me or what I will give you as your husband.”
“You bastard, I wish I had a whip. You shouldn’t speak to me in such a way.”
“When we’re married, I will give you that opportunity,” he said, bending his head close to hers. “Ah, a whip in your hands. How I shall enjoy wresting it from you. Will you still fight me? I shall enjoy that as well, for a while at least.”
“I hate you, Julien. Don’t think I’m such a fool, I know now that these are the St. Clair emeralds. Oh God, I hate you.”
“You must take heed, my dear, not to become repetitious in your conversation. You wouldn’t wish to bore your husband.”
He so
unded calm as a clam, almost indifferent, as if he were instructing a student of very backward intellect. Bereft of speech, she narrowed her eyes and looked over his left shoulder. He merely shrugged and looked amused.
“Do allow me to congratulate you on your most unusual performance for Mrs. Drummond Burrell. Unfortunately, you picked quite the wrong person on whom to try your antics. Ah, yes, you hoped to disgrace yourself, didn’t you? Let me tell you, my dear, that the good lady finally met someone more cold and haughty than herself. A strange coincidence, isn’t it? Ah, yes, let me make something very clear to you. Even if you had managed to enrage the lady and she had sent both of us from Almack’s with loud curses, it wouldn’t have gained you anything. I don’t care if society turns its back on me. All I want is you, and you I will have.”
Kate wondered at that moment if she had been born under an unlucky star. Everything seemed to go awry. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with misery. “Why do you torment me?”
In that moment, he was sorely tempted to throw his masterful stratagem to the winds and comfort her, perhaps even to plead his case with her again. But he caught himself, realizing that it would be a fatal mistake.
“What would you, Kate? Shall I languish at your feet like that fool Bleddoes? Let you treat me as you would a fractious puppy?” He shook his head, his strong white teeth flashing. “Oh no, my dear, it’s a strong hand you need, and I’m the only one to suit you.”
“I will surely make you sorry for this.”
He merely arched an elegant brow and whirled her faster and faster until she was panting for breath.
When at last the interminable waltz ended, Kate looked up to see herself being regarded with shy admiration by a young man clad in colorful regimentals. He reminded her of Harry. She smiled most beguilingly at the young man and watched him begin a hopeful approach.
“Another Bleddoes, Kate. I pray that you don’t break his heart to spite me.” He enthusiastically waved the young man forward.
The young man said shyly, “If you don’t mind, my lord, may I dance with Miss Brandon?”
“Not at all. My betrothed is very much taken with young men in uniform, as her brother is shortly to join the cavalry.”
“I believe, sir, that it is from me you should seek your permission.”
“Don’t lead him a merry dance,” Julien said, as Kate took firm hold of the young man’s arm and led him away.
He stood quietly for a moment as he watched her look with the most appealing expression at her young gallant. She was flirting outrageously to spite him. His mouth curved into a rueful smile. He could not imagine ever being bored by this one girl who had managed to capture every feeling inside him, even creating new feelings he’d never known before, and he knew that there would never be another woman for him, ever.
“So that’s the dashed girl you’re going to marry, eh, Julien?”
Julien turned to see his aunt, Lady Mary Tolford, standing at his elbow.
“Good evening, Aunt. You look charming tonight. Yes, that is Miss Katharine Brandon. Have you ever seen a more beautiful girl?”
“Well, I’ll say this for you, Julien. Your taste in women, like that of your grandfather, is impeccable. Yes, my boy, certainly she’s pleasant to look at, but you know, the girl doesn’t look much of a breeder to me. Far too slender. Look at those long legs, like a boy’s. Now her hips, it’s difficult to tell. What do you think? Will she give you as many children as you wish?”
He looked down at her. “Surely you know you’re shocking me, Auntie. I’m not even married, and you’re contemplating the room necessary for my betrothed to carry a child. Good Lord, you’re already planning to fill my nursery with future earls.”
Lady Mary tapped her fan on his sleeve. “The St. Clairs are a long, proud line, Julien. You’ve picked a lady of quality, no doubt about that, but there are heirs too, my boy. It’s your duty, and about time, too, I might add.”
“My dear Aunt, you need have no fears. Even though I can’t yet confirm or deny the exact width of her hips, I promise you an heir within the year. Does that suit you?”
“Yes, it suits me, I suppose. Have you informed your mama that she is about to become a mother-in-law? I’ll wager she became hysterical.”
Fortunately, Julien had just that afternoon paid a long-overdue visit to his fond parent and informed her of his imminent marriage. She did resort to her smelling salts upon hearing he was to wed a Brandon, and it had taken him a good half-hour to soothe her from tears and sighs and little quivers, at which she excelled.
“Yes, Aunt, I have seen Mama, and no, she didn’t have hysterics. She did rely, however, on very strong smelling salts and numerous soothing murmurs from me.”
Lady Mary, quite his favorite relative, gave a crow of delight, envisioning with some satisfaction the look of shock on her sister-in-law’s face. She had always thought Lady Caroline a fool, and now that the dowager countess was getting older, she had taken to quacking herself with every conceivable medicine. As the state of her health was also Lady Caroline’s favorite topic of conversation, Lady Mary had found her own nerves near to the breaking point, and thus, recently, had paid fewer and fewer visits to Brook Street.
“Now, my dear Aunt, if you will excuse me, I must detach my betrothed from that gay young buck. It’s my duty, as you said, and before I do anything of a siring nature, I must first wed the lady.”
Lady Mary gave Julien a light rap on the arm with her fan. “At least you want to marry her. That has to be a miracle indeed. Be off with you, rogue.”
Julien was careful to ensure that he danced three waltzes with Kate. Two waltzes between an unmarried couple caused wild speculation. Three placed the gold band on her finger. He wondered when Kate would discover this fact and curse him straight to hell. He hoped she did. He would find it vastly entertaining.
Evidently she was not informed, for the remainder of the evening she maintained a stony silence in his presence, pointedly ignoring even the most provoking of comments. Even when he informed her matter-of-factly that he had procured a special license so they could be wed within the week and that her trousseau would be arriving at the Bellingham mansion on the morrow, she kept her eyes downcast and refused to favor him with a reply. He thought at first that she was employing a new tactic, but as the evening continued, he wondered if she was finally coming to her senses and had given up her losing battle with him. It was very late when he deposited Lady Bellingham and Kate at the Bellingham mansion.
Only later, as he lay comfortably in his own bed, did it occur to him to worry about her behavior. She’d been too pliant, too docile, her surrender almost too immediate and complete. He’d not known her long. But he knew her. Something wasn’t right, he knew it, but didn’t know what it was. He didn’t sleep well that night.
As for Kate, she didn’t sleep at all. She was far too busy packing her portmanteau and making her plans. Had the dashing young officer in his colorful regimentals, whose name she couldn’t remember, known of the daring idea he was giving the beautiful young lady, he wouldn’t have been so forthcoming in his praise of Paris. Kate was but half listening as they danced, too aware of Julien’s eyes following her around the dance floor. But she smiled prettily up at the young man, and he felt emboldened to speak of his adventures in a Paris now freed from Napoleon’s influence. He’d been astounded at the gaiety of the French people, the prosperity that was restored under Louis, and above all, the enthusiastic attitude of the Parisians toward the English, whom they now regarded as their liberators.
It was a short time later, as she stood drinking a glass of orgeat, that the promise of the young officer’s words struck her forcibly. She’d done naught but fail. The earl had outdanced her at every turn, not just on the dance floor. She, in turn, had danced to his tune quite long enough. It was time she took matters into her own hands.
Why shouldn’t she go to Paris? She’d always told herself that she wished to be her own mistress. Surely she would be the
most despicable of hypocrites if she didn’t jump at the chance to be free forever not only of her father but also of the earl. It didn’t take long for her to convince herself that only a coward would let such an opportunity slip by.
As she sat now in her darkened room, she recalled the earl’s last words to her about her trousseau. Let him speak smoothly and make his damned plans. Let him do whatever he wanted. He could obtain a dozen special licenses for all she cared. It didn’t concern her. He could, in short, go directly to the devil. She would be far away, free of him.
But to do what, to be what? A vision of herself in a foreign land, alone, rose in her mind. She felt a wave of apprehension and a taste of fear. “No,” she said aloud to her shadowed bedchamber. “I’ll find employment and be quite comfortable. I’m not stupid. I can work and work hard. I’ll survive, and I’ll be free.” She spoke French passably well and had sufficient accomplishments to make a position of governess not out of the question.
She folded a pair of stockings and stuffed them into the portmanteau. She remembered the thousand pounds, obviously given to her father by Julien to pass on to her for a new wardrobe. If only she’d had the knowledge then that she did now. His damned money and she’d spent nearly all of it. She lit a candle and searched methodically through her dresser and reticule. After some moments she scooped up what money she’d found and sat cross-legged on her bed. Uncertain what it cost to reach Paris, she decided it best to be overgenerous in her estimates. This deduction made, she was left staring with some dismay at four guineas. She frowned, but held hope nonetheless. She would simply have to find employment very quickly. And was she not an Englishwoman, one of the liberators of the French, who now loved the English and welcomed them with enthusiasm?
The Rebel Bride Page 15