by Gill, Tamara
Katherine watched him for a moment before turning her attentions back to her friends. Men like Lord Leighton didn’t see women like her as equals. Not wealthy or connected enough, and now at six and twenty her prospects of actually marrying at all, even in her own social sphere seemed a lost dream. As she grew older, Katherine had to admit that she didn’t seem to belong anywhere, except at her work. She was doomed to die an old maid. A woman who’d never experienced a stolen kiss or a wicked embrace from men of Lord Leighton’s ilk. Or anyone’s for that matter.
As the night wore on, as the card games and music started with impromptu dancing, and no gentleman asked her to dance, the little demoralizing sound of Jane’s voice wouldn’t abate. It’s constant reminding that she didn’t belong, wasn’t wanted and was not refined enough for her friends wouldn’t quieten.
No matter how much she told herself it was not so.
Chapter 3
Katherine stood with Mr. Andrew Perry, their foreman outside Earl Leighton’s home and tapped her pencil against her notepad. The lord was over an hour late and still there was no sign of an arriving carriage or gentleman heading toward his home on foot.
“Maybe we ought to come back another time, Miss Katherine. His lordship seems to have forgotten.”
Katherine looked up and down the street again and frowned. “It is odd that his man of business hasn’t even arrived. I see there are men inside cleaning up, maybe if we start the measuring up and do the inspection his lordship will arrive afterwards. There may have been some kind of time mix up.”
Andrew harrumphed, but followed as she walked up the townhouse steps, entered the entrance hall where a flurry of workers stood, some upstairs and others working on the room beneath where the fire took hold.
“We’ll start upstairs and work our way down.”
Just then the front door opened and in walked a hurried Mr. Oakes, a sheen of sweat covering his face, his hair sticking up on end as if he’d been running. “Mr. Perry, Miss Martin, I presume.”
Katherine held out her hand and the man shook it, before shaking Mr. Perry’s as well.
“I do apologize. His lordship had stated he wished to attend today but sent me a note that arrived only half an hour past that he’d changed his mind. I was not prepared and knew you would already be waiting, and so I’m terribly late. I am most sorry.”
Katherine smiled, trying to put the harried man at ease. “No need to concern yourself. Shall we begin?” It did not surprise her that Lord Leighton didn’t wish to see her again or discuss his repairs with a woman. After their initial conversation last evening, he’d gone off and practically twirled about the room, talking to any and all female guests Cecilia had invited, gushing over them, and making all of them blush and giggle like little nincompoops.
It only proved yet again that she was plain and unbecoming and not a woman that would ever turn Lord Leighton’s head. He was a man who oozed charm and spectacular looks, while she oozed trade and little appeal at all.
A pity, she had anticipated seeing him. Perhaps it was for the best, for what good could come of any interaction outside of business matters?
“This way, if you please,” Mr. Oakes said, starting up the stairs.
Katherine followed and over the next hour they measured, discussed wood, took samples of what was there, and Katherine drew the layout of the room, the structure of the ceiling, or at least what was left of it.
Katherine felt for his lordship having lost one of the grandest ballrooms in London, but at least one of its greatest features being the marble fireplace had survived, even if it was a little discoloured by smoke.
Mr. Oakes explained what the Earl expected with regard to the rebuild and what changes he wished to make, the largest being a terrace that came off the ballroom and considering the ballroom was on the first floor of this home, it would take a little design and consideration to have this put in place. But it was no hardship for her father to do, and when all the building work was completed, Lord Leighton would be satisfied, just as all their customers were.
With their business complete, she turned to Mr. Oakes and held out her hand. “Good day, sir. Thank you for your assistance and input. We’ll have a quote ready for his lordship by Monday next week.”
He took her hand, shaking it. “Thank you, Miss Martin. You’ve been very professional. Give my regards to your father.”
They left and climbed up in their waiting carriage, telling the driver to return to the office.
A pleased smile crossed Mr. Perry’s lips. “I think that went well. Your thoughts, Miss Martin?”
“I agree, and I think after seeing the damage, that should his lordship choose us for the rebuild we should have him back in his home within six months, if the weather is favourable.”
“Has his lordship decided on who’ll refurbish the home, we should probably consult with them before we commence.”
“I will send word to his man of business, I don’t know why I forgot to ask him today. But even so, should he not know, I shall ask Lord Leighton directly. He is staying at my good friend’s home, the Marchioness of Aaron.” And she was to dine with them the following Saturday, just a select few of friends, which Katherine assumed to be the duke and duchess of Athelby. If Lord Leighton attended she would ask him then. Settling back on the squabs, Katherine pushed away the little flutter that took flight in her stomach at the thought of seeing his lordship again.
There was no point in her dreaming about him, he would never look to her for a wife or a dalliance even. Too plain, too common to turn anyone of his sets’ eyes, but even so, it didn’t mean she couldn’t look at him, take her fill and enjoy daydreaming about what his soft looking lips would feel like against hers.
She sighed. I bet they would feel wickedly good…
“Did you say something, Miss Martin?”
Katherine shook her head. “I was just mumbling to myself. Please ignore me.” Just dreaming of things she’d love to have, even if for a moment, but might never experience. The fact that Lord Leighton didn’t even bother to show up for their appointment today told her all she needed to know where he ranked her importance in his life. Why she was so invisible to people other than her friends baffled her. She had a good dowry, wasn’t beautiful she would admit, but nor was she unattractive, so it had to be due to her uninspiring figure. And the fact she worked for a living. Perhaps Jane was right and she needed to upgrade her wardrobe and purchase a new hat. Anything to mix it up a little, make her appear to have all the appearance of a lady who knew how to dress, how to attract men, when really, she had no idea at all.
* * *
Hamish glanced across the dining table at the marquess of Aaron’s home and slowly chewed the roasted chicken he was eating while trying to figure out Miss Martin who sat across from him. Her mind was as quick as any man’s he’d ever known, her intelligence and knowledge on news and current affairs was better than his own he also admitted. By all appearances she was a modern, educated woman. But her gown, it was at least two seasons old, and although her hair was tidy, it did little to bring out her dark, alluring eyes.
Did she dress with so little care to hide the becoming, charming visage, or maybe she simply did not care for the fripperies that so many women of his class lived to purchase.
For him, he loved seeing women dressed in the latest fashions, their hair bejewelled and a little rouge on the lips made one long to smudge it across their mouth in a passionate kiss. When Miss Martin had saved his nose from further damage at the inn some months past, he’d not thought to see her again, but he also hadn’t forgotten that he owed her a small debt of gratitude.
And now after seeing her father’s building company’s quote, a very reasonable one considering they were the best in London, he would be seeing a lot more of her in the coming months since he’d decided to use them. For reasons even he didn’t know, he would like to see her again. Talk to her more. Find out what her passions and pursuits were and see if this wallflower bef
ore him would blossom into a rose.
Hamish cleared his throat. “I wished to tell you, Miss Martin that I’ve decided to hire your father to rebuild my home. I know it is crass to talk business at events such as these, but my man of business spoke highly of you and Mr. Perry’s professionalism and the quote was very reasonable. When do you think you shall be able to start?”
The duchess clapped, smiling. “Oh, I’m so glad you’ve chosen to go with Mr. Martin, Hamish. You shall not be disappointed. He’s helped us with all our building works we’ve taken part in with the Orphanages and schools. Katherine and her father are simply the best.”
A light blush stole over Katherine’s cheeks making her even a little more handsome than Hamish thought possible. She was not the type of woman he would normally ever glance at, not because of her rank or clothing, he wasn’t an idiot, but simply she was so very lithe and tall. He loved nothing more than a woman with a little curve to her, a woman who held the shape of the female form. He was, to put it bluntly, a man who adored breasts and bottom of equal size.
Miss Martin, although not completely unfortunate in relation to her breasts, had a good handful at most, but not much more.
He took a sip of wine when her gaze met his. “Thank you, Lord Leighton. I’m very happy to hear this and shall tell papa the good news on my return home tonight.”
He grinned, amused by her proper speech to him. With everyone else she was carefree, laughing and involving herself without second thought, but with him, she was a little guarded, careful with her words and it made him wonder.
“Katherine, I forgot to ask you last week, but we’ve all been invited to the O’Callaghan’s ball and we hoped you would attend with us. I shall have the carriage sent around to pick you up and then we shall all travel together from there. It is Thursday next,” Cecilia interjected.
Again, she confounded Hamish. At the mention of a ball her eyes brightened and without qualm he could term Katherine a beauty. When she wished to be and wasn’t hiding under dowdy clothes.
“Thursday next? I shall have to check with papa that we have no outstanding engagements, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“There is supposed to be good gaming, Hamish. Are you attending?” the duke asked, pushing his dessert away. Lord Aaron called for the port, and the ladies stood, signalling the end of the meal.
“I will be. I promised Lady O’Callaghan that I would dance the first waltz with her and I should hate to disappoint her ladyship.”
“Be careful, Hamish or you’ll find yourself betrothed to her ladyship right smart. You know as well as all of us, that she’s after a new husband after her last one died under unfortunate circumstances.” The duchess said, chuckling.
“I would think dying under any circumstance would be unfortunate,” Katherine said, matter of factly.
Cecilia placed her napkin on the table, nodding. “The duchess meant Kat that her ladyship’s husband died under her ladyship when they were within their private apartment.”
“Well, poor man, or maybe, lucky man depending on which way you look at it,” Katherine said, chuckling.
Hamish shut his mouth with a snap having never heard a woman speak so openly and about that particular subject in polite Society. His past mistresses had sometimes spoken with such candor and little regard to those about them, but never had he seen it take place within his own Society. Men, yes, very often spoke in such ways, but women, never. The duke and marquess laughed and Hamish too found himself amused and not a little intrigued by her.
The ladies stood, and Hamish’s gaze followed Miss Martin…Kat out the door before a footman closed it, leaving just himself, the duke and marquess alone.
“Do the ladies always talk in such ways? I say, I’ve never heard Cecilia ever say such things in polite Society.”
Hunter chuckled. “Those three women are the best of friends and I shudder to think what they discuss when we’re not around. I’m sure Katherine knows all about married life, and what happens between a man and woman in the marriage bed. To hear them speak so at table, around friends, is nothing to them.”
“A quite common occurrence I should say,” the marquess added. “Why the other day I heard Cecilia telling Kat about the rumors circulating the ton regarding Lord Leslie and his valet.”
“What rumors? I’ve not even heard this one.” Hamish looked from both men, wondering when they had become so, so married! He leaned back in his chair, taking a cigar when the duke offered him one. “What do you think of Miss Martin?”
Both men turned steely gazes on him and Hamish took a long pull of his smoke, wondering what exactly was going through their minds right at this moment. His mind was filled with thoughts of a woman he had no right to be thinking of at all. He didn’t even want a wife.
“She is lovely, and we care for her as much as Darcy and Cecilia would care for a sister should they have one, and so, when you ask what we think of her, we wonder what you mean by such a query, Hamish,” the duke said, raising one brow and looking quite severe.
It reminded Hamish of what the duke looked like before he married Darcy, stern and ill-tempered. Hamish paused, wondering himself what he meant. He rubbed his jaw, contemplating his words. “Miss Martin is polite, and well mannered, but she lacks refinement that the duchess and marchioness both exhibit. I know Cecilia and Katherine grew up beside one another in Cheapside and look at each other like sisters, but it is odd now that Cecilia is a marchioness that their friendship is still as strong.”
Hunter leaned forward in his chair, putting out his cigar in the tray provided. “Why would their friendship not continue? Kat is wonderful, and I would never suggest to Cecilia to cease such a friendship.”
“You must admit, she is getting on in years, and is yet to be married. Not to mention her clothes, her hair. And she’s to attend lord and lady Keppel’s ball with you all next week. What will she wear! I fear to find out. It is a little peculiar, you must admit.” Hamish leaned back in his chair, picturing Miss Martin in an embroidered silk gown in a deep, rich color. She would be as beautiful as any woman he’d known. He frowned. Where the hell did that thought come from.
The duke shrugged. “I like Miss Martin and would never wish to exclude her in any way. I grant you her clothes are not the most fashionable, nor her hair the most styled, but she is loyal, honest and kind. And Darcy loves her, and then, so too do I. I hope this is not going to be a problem for you, Hamish. She is our friend, and I do not want you to injure her pure soul just because she’s not as fashionable and rich as so many of your friends are.”
At his silence Hunter glanced at him. “Hamish? Do we have a problem?”
Hamish threw his cigar into the fire, standing. “Of course not. I merely thought it odd, is all. But if you wish her to be part of your set in our society, who am I to naysay that. Even if she is the builder of my home I shall be obliged to dance with her at balls.”
Hunter laughed. “I shall hold you to that, and you never know, you may enjoy your dance with Miss Martin. She may charm you as much as she’s charmed all of us.”
“Perhaps,” he said, heading for the door that a footman opened for them. “But for now, I shall bid you all goodnight. I have a card game to attend and a buxom lady friend who wishes for her own private dance with me.”
The duke shook his head as Hamish took his cloak and hat from the footman in the hall. “See you at the ball, Hamish. And remember to bring your best manners with you.”
He clasped his chest in mock insult. “Of course. When have I ever been otherwise?”
Hamish was soon settled into his carriage and looking out the window he thought of his friends, their love match marriages and how lucky they were. He’d once thought such a life was what he’d wanted, but after the death of his sister, the pain it caused his family and that of her husband he was no longer so sure. To lose someone again he loved seemed an idiotic thing to do. To put one’s feelings on the line, be vulnerable wasn’t what he wanted for himself.
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His nephew would inherit his title, he didn’t need to marry if he didn’t wish to settle with a lady. His life was full, he wasn’t short of bed partners, and the entertainments of his set kept him busy. The image of Katherine Martin floated through his mind, of being greeted at home by a woman of her lively intelligence and prettiness, having her warm his bed and no one else, and he wondered at his course in life.
Wondered if his life of idleness was what he really wanted.
Chapter 4
“It is too much, your grace. I couldn’t possibly wear such a masterpiece.” Katherine slid her hand along the golden silk gown with an abundance of silver silk embroidery and decorated with hundreds of glass beads and silk cording. Never had she seen such a beautiful dress and picking it up she held it before her in the looking glass, surprised the color suited her.
“You will look beautiful, and since you’re staying here this evening, I shall not take no for an answer. I’ll have my maid do your hair, and you’ll be the prettiest lady at the Leeders’ annual ball.” Darcy rang the bell for a servant in the pretty little room she’d allocated her. A single bed covered in a blue floral design complimented the blue velvet drapes across the bank of windows. A small chaise sat at the end of the bed and considering the size of the room it allowed one to warm themselves before the well stoked fire.
“You’re being too nice, but truly, I’ll feel odd wearing something that suits people of your sphere more than mine. Won’t people look at me as a fraud?”
Darcy sent the footman who she was talking to at the door away with orders to bring up a hip bath and turned to her with a small frown across her brow.
“I don’t ever wish to hear you say such a thing again. You’re the duchess of Athelby and marchioness of Aaron’s closest friend. No one would dare look down on you in any other way other than pure adoration. And if they do not, they will have me to face.”