Regency Masquerades: A Limited Edition Boxed Set of Six Traditional Regency Romance Novels of Secrets and Disguises

by Brenda Hiatt

  Each night, slipping between the sheets of a new bed, she found herself longing for Marcus, and despising herself for missing him so badly. Her monthly courses came a few days after her departure. She told herself it made everything simpler, that she did not want his child, yet the discovery brought her no joy.

  As they approached the northern reaches of Cumberland, she gave orders to the coachman to follow the route along Ullswater, and found the long, winding lake surrounded by high, wooded hills as picturesque as Catherine had described. They stopped in the village of Glenridding for a change of horses, and dinner, more for her entourage than for herself. They reached the vale of Lynthwaite just as the sun was beginning to descend the surrounding hills. Catherine had not exaggerated the appeal of the place, though it was wilder and more stark than the gentler landscapes of the Cotswolds. Built of the local blue-gray stone, Woodmere Hall had the look of a small fortress. How could Cat possibly be happy in this wild, remote place, caught in a strange marriage arranged by her cold, arrogant father?

  As the carriage came to a halt before the house, Juliana tried to shake off her depression. It was no use reflecting on how both she and Cat had been forced into matches not of their choosing. The best they could do was to comfort each other. She hoped Cat was well, but if not, she would do her best to help.

  She descended from the carriage, Polly behind her. Taking a risk, she directed the coachman to deposit their baggage on the steps, then drive on to the inn at Lynthwaite. She would not put the unknown Mr. Woodmere to the trouble and expense of keeping her carriage or any servants except for Polly. She had sent word ahead, and knew Cat would welcome her, but there was no telling how her husband would react to such a sudden visit.

  The butler who greeted them gave every sign of having expected their arrival, which was reassuring. He escorted her to the drawing room where the family congregated after dinner. As they approached, Juliana heard childish laughter. She stood for a moment on the threshold, taking in the scene before her. Catherine sat upon the sofa, a big, dark-haired man beside her who must be her new husband. A small girl with dark, curly hair perched on Cat’s other side, touching her rounded belly and giggling. In a nearby chair sat an older girl reading a book, while two boys sat at a table, whittling wood into objects that vaguely resembled horses.

  They all looked up as the butler announced her, and she noticed that all the Woodmeres had the same deep, dark brown eyes.

  “Juliana!” Catherine exclaimed, smiling broadly.

  Mr. Woodmere rose and made a quick bow, before turning to assist his wife up from the sofa.

  “Cat,” Juliana murmured, embracing her friend as best she could despite Cat’s firm, protruding belly. She felt a gentle flutter against her own stomach, and looked down in shock.

  “The baby is hiccuping,” explained Cat. “That is what Lizzie was laughing about when you came in.”

  Juliana tried to smile. Anxiously, she studied Cat, and realized her friend looked as beautiful as ever, her dark hair gleaming, her smoky blue eyes full of laughter and her complexion brighter than Juliana remembered. Even the curves of pregnancy looked somehow elegant on Cat’s tall, graceful figure. She looked healthy. And amazingly happy.

  “I am so glad you’ve come, Jule. You must tell me—” Catherine broke off, perhaps catching a hint of distress in her face. “We will talk later,” she said. “Now you must meet Philip and all my new brothers and sisters.”

  “I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, Lady Amberley,” said her husband, in a deep baritone voice, making her a bow. “Catherine has spoken of you often; I’m sure she will be glad of your support at such a time.”

  There was such a warmth in his voice, and a heartiness about his smile, that all her doubts about her welcome fled. He put his arm around Cat, and Juliana made another discovery. His eyes positively shone with love for her friend, and Cat, nestling in his arm, looked happier than Juliana had ever seen her. Whatever the circumstances of their hasty wedding, it was clear that it had turned into a love match.

  “Thank you, Mr. Woodmere,” she replied, her surprise melting into joy for her friend.

  “Need we be so formal?” asked Cat. “You and I are like sisters, so it follows that Philip is now your brother.”

  “I would be happy to think so… Philip,” she said.

  “Welcome to our family, Juliana,” he replied.

  Cat then introduced her to the little girl, Lizzie, the older one, Marianne, and the two boys, Jack and Harry, who all greeted her shyly but politely.

  “Now I am feeling a trifle peckish,” said Catherine, when all the introductions were done. “I think I’ll ask them to light a fire in Philip’s study, and bring us some tea and sandwiches. I’ll be back in a trice, then we can have a nice little gossip.”

  She bustled away, leaving Juliana standing with her husband, as the others returned to their earlier activities. Philip watched his wife leave, still with that look of complete devotion in his expressive brown eyes. Juliana’s heart turned over. It was just how Marcus had looked at her.

  “I am truly glad you’ve come,” said Philip, recapturing her attention.

  “Is there something amiss?” she asked, catching a hint of anxiety in his voice.

  “Mrs. McGinnis, the midwife, says everything is as it should be, but sometimes I wish Cathy would allow a physician to see her.” He shook his head. “She insists that she is perfectly happy with Mrs. McGinnis, and does not want any fashionable accoucheur experimenting with her. She may be right.”

  Perhaps Philip shared her fears, that Cat might be like her mother. No wonder he looked so troubled.

  Catherine came back at that point, and Juliana got up to follow her to Philip’s study. Lined with books, furnished with a desk and a few comfortable chairs, it was a cozy room, rather like the library at Redwyck Hall, though smaller. A tray bearing tea and sandwiches sat on a small table in front of the hearth.

  Cat poured tea for both of them, then eagerly took a few bites out of a thick ham sandwich.

  “I am so ravenous these days,” she said. “The baby seems to take up so much room I cannot eat my fill at one sitting. But you did not come here just to hear me prate on and on about my condition. Is there something you want to talk about, Jule?”

  Juliana took a sip of her tea, then nodded. “Yes, there is. But first, you must tell me how you came to marry Philip. You wrote so little in your letters. You said you were happy, but until I saw you I could not believe it. How did it all happen?”

  “It is a long story,” Cat replied, “and one that is best not set down on paper. But now that we are together, I will tell you everything.”

  Juliana listened closely as Catherine told how her father, the Duke of Whitgrave, had sent her to Cumberland in disgrace, how she had met Philip and his family, and all the difficulties they had had to overcome. Somehow, hearing Cat’s story made it easier for Juliana to tell the tale of her relations with Marcus, while Cat finished her sandwich.

  When she’d finished, Cat gave her a searching look.

  “So, you don’t believe Marcus when he says he loves you?” she asked.

  “I don’t know whether to believe him,” said Juliana. “When I am with him, I want to believe everything he says, but then I think about our circumstances, how Grandpapa arranged everything, and I just don’t know.”

  “What does Pen think of him? She has met him, hasn’t she?”

  “She likes him very much.”

  Catherine looked thoughtful. She didn’t need to say what they both knew: that Pen was not often wrong in her judgments.

  “Has Marcus ever been less than truthful in any of his other dealings with you?” Cat continued her gentle probing.

  Juliana thought about all her conversations with Marcus, and could not think of a single instance of falsehood. Except one, and she could not think it important.

  “Only once,” she said, blushing. “He—he said he had never been with another woman, but I think he
said it only because I accused him of being a rake.”

  “He might easily have said that to spare your feelings. It might even be true.”

  “Do you think so? But he was so—so very…”

  Cat surprised her by laughing. “Jule, if your husband loves you, he will naturally make every effort to please you as well as himself. If he is not a complete dolt, how can he fail?”

  Vivid memories of Marcus, his slow, passionate kisses, his gentle hands, the fantasy they had played out on the chaise longue in their townhouse all spun through Juliana’s mind. Could Cat be right?

  “What do you think, Cat? Am I wrong to doubt Marcus?”

  “I think things have moved rather quickly for both of you. Perhaps you just need some time to think about it, and sort out your feelings. Cheer up, dear. Tomorrow morning, we’ll take a little walk together, and perhaps later, Philip and the children can take you for a ramble on the fells. There are some lovely places up there to just sit and think. It will do you good, I promise you.”

  The next morning, after breakfast, Juliana went with Catherine went for a short walk along the brook that ran the length of the valley. Later, as the day was fine, Philip and the others led her on a steep climb up one of the nearby hills, or fells, as she learned they were called in Cumberland. Once she had reached the summit, out of breath and unexpectedly proud to have climbed to such a height, Philip showed her the stone circle that crowned the summit. The children flew kites, while she watched, sitting on a large stone that lay just outside the circle.

  Cat was right. The sunshine and breezes of the open hilltop lifted her depression, allowing her to think about Marcus with a degree of clarity she had not thought possible. Mentally, she relived their time together, and found herself dwelling not only on his lovemaking, but the times they had spent riding together, discussing estate matters, heads together as they pored over a tenancy agreement and argued over its wording. Now every moment seemed precious to her.

  Then she tried to picture Marcus, and how he was faring without her. All her imagination could conjure up were images of him performing all his duties as usual, but in all his quiet moments missing her, longing for her just as she longed for him. Was it wishful thinking?

  She descended the hill in better spirits than before, although still undecided about what to do. She could not leave now, anyway. Mrs. McGinnis, the midwife, predicted that Catherine and Philip’s child might arrive any day.

  On the third morning after her arrival, as Juliana took her customary walk with Catherine, she noticed a strange expression cross her friend’s face.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, her stomach fluttering as she suspected the reason.

  “I think, perhaps, my pains are starting to come,” said Cat. “I felt something about twenty minutes ago, but it passed, so I didn’t say anything. Now it has come again.”

  “Good heavens! What are we going to do? Should you lie down somewhere? I can run to fetch Philip, if you wish.”

  “No,” said Cat, with a reassuring smile. “There’s no need for that. We’ll just walk slowly back to the house, and see what happens. Not that I could move quickly in any case, since at present my gait is rather like a duck’s!”

  Juliana forced a smile at Cat’s attempt at a joke, then asked, “Are you in a great deal of pain?”

  “No. It was just a little twinge both times. A sort of tightening across my belly. It is gone now.”

  “Are you sure it is all right for you to walk?”

  “Mrs. McGinnis says it is good to walk, that sometimes it makes the baby come faster.”

  “I don’t want it to come faster!”

  “Don’t fret, Jule. Mrs. McGinnis also warned me that first babies often take some time in coming.”

  Arms linked, they walked slowly back toward Woodmere Hall. All the while Juliana tried not to hurry, and prayed that Cat’s baby would follow the midwife’s prediction.

  As the day went on, she had ample time to regret her prayers. They arrived back at Woodmere Hall and walked about its lawns while Philip, making a visible effort to remain calm, drove off to fetch the midwife. Juliana relaxed a little at Mrs. McGinnis’s arrival. The cheery, capable-looking woman radiated confidence, reassuring all of them that everything was as it should be, and setting Philip firmly in his place by telling him that she had brought him and his brothers and sisters into the world with no trouble at all, and did he not think she could do the same for his child?

  Catherine’s pains continued to come at gradually shortening intervals. Juliana took turns with Philip and Mrs. McGinnis in walking with her friend about the grounds, and sitting with her when she needed rest. At first confident and cheerful, Cat became tired as the hours wore on, and more subdued as the pains assaulted her with increased intensity, so that she could no longer hold back the occasional moan. Mrs. McGinnis remained optimistic, although her occasional examinations of Catherine still showed she had not yet opened enough to give birth.

  A little before the dinner hour, Catherine’s water broke, and Mrs. McGinnis informed them that things often happened more quickly once this occurred. Philip carried Catherine up to her bedchamber, where Juliana saw the old, wooden birthing chair that Catherine wished to use in defiance of the modern fashion for giving birth lying in bed. Catherine brightened at the sight of it, but another pain-wracked hour passed with no clear progress.

  Juliana went down to dinner and did her best to reassure the children, despite the anxiety gnawing at her as she thought of Cat’s suffering. When she returned, she saw Philip conferring with Mrs. McGinnis outside the door.

  “Now, sir, you know that first babies are often slow in coming. Especially, if I may speak so free, when the mother’s the high-strung, nervous sort like Lady Catherine.”

  “But how long can it take?” asked Philip. “I don’t know how she can bear much more of this.”

  “I cannot say for certain, sir. She is tired, and may soon begin to fall asleep a little between pains. That might help matters along.”

  “I thought you said walking was beneficial. Now you are saying she needs to rest?” he said roughly, turning his head to listen as Catherine moaned again.

  “Every woman and every baby is different. Try to be calm, sir,” said the midwife in a soothing voice.

  “Cathy’s mother died giving birth to her. How can I be calm?”

  “Hush!” she said, looking at both of them now as Juliana came closer. “There’s no reason to think your wife will die. It’s not a cross-birth, or a breech, and the babe was kicking nicely just a few minutes ago, so all’s well there too.”

  “What if she does not give birth soon? Tell me the truth, damn you!”

  A hint of strain appeared on Mrs. McGinnis’s honest face.

  “It’s too early to say that anything will happen. But if the babe comes too late after the water breaks, sometimes there is fever. Or…”

  “She and the baby might both die,” Philip completed the sentence, his rugged features contorted with fear.

  “I said it’s too early to worry about that yet,” said Mrs. McGinnis. “Now, Master Philip, for your wife’s sake, and your family’s sake, you must calm yourself. Go eat some dinner, and sit with your brothers and sisters so they don’t worry themselves to pieces. I’ll send Jemima down to tell you if there’s any change.”

  Reluctantly, Philip left them, although Juliana suspected he would eat as little as she had. Over the next hour, she sat with Mrs. McGinnis beside the bed, while Catherine tried to rest between the pains that caused her to moan and clutch at her pillow. When Philip returned, the midwife ordered Juliana to her bedchamber. She obeyed, knowing Cat was well attended.

  Although anxious, she managed to fall asleep, but woke with a start a few hours later. Unable to fall back asleep, she hastily dressed herself and returned to Catherine’s room.

  Fear gripped her heart as she saw Philip standing outside, leaning against the wall, his hands covering his face. Peering into the room, s
he saw Catherine asleep, lying on her side, with Mrs. McGinnis sitting nearby. Her worst fear receded as she watched Cat breathe, and saw a slight movement along her friend’s belly. It was disappointing to see that little seemed to have happened while she’d been gone.

  Then Juliana heard Philip whispering a prayer.

  “Please God, don’t take her, too.”

  She ached with fear for Cat, and sympathy for Philip. Now she remembered how Catherine had talked of his parents’ death. Awkwardly, she stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder, offering what comfort she could. He looked up, then they heard Cat’s voice, faintly calling his name.

  He rushed into the room, and Juliana followed behind.

  “Mrs. McGinnis,” said Catherine, her voice a little stronger. “I think—I think the baby is coming.”

  “Stay quiet, my lady,” said Mrs. McGinnis. After a quick examination, she nodded her head, and said briskly, “Yes. You’ll do now.”

  She directed Juliana to fetch Jemima and the nursery maid. Glad to have something to do, Juliana hurried away. When she returned with the two maids, she heard Catherine groaning with effort, and Mrs. McGinnis calmly advising her. She entered the room, and saw her friend seated in the birthing chair, relaxing as her pains temporarily subsided. Philip stood behind, his thick arms wrapped around his wife, as if he could somehow impart some of his own bear-like strength to her. Mrs. McGinnis sat on a low stool in front.

  Juliana watched, feeling helpless and useless, until Cat bade her come over and stand by her side. She took one of Cat’s hands in her own. A moment later, Cat squeezed it tightly, crying out as she tried to push according to the midwife’s instructions.

  “Well done, dearie!” said Mrs. McGinnis. “I can see the head, now. One or two more pushes like that one should do the trick.”

  Cat sighed, and Juliana sighed with her. She did not know how much more of this she could take, either.

  A minute later, Cat screamed again, straining with effort. Averting her eyes from what was happening below, Juliana saw Cat’s face convulsed with pain, though her eyes glowed with a look of fierce, almost primitive exultation.