Instead, she tried to talk herself out of it. She was not in love. She could not possibly have fallen in love in the space of a few days. In any case, how could she possibly be sure? She’d thought herself in love before, though in comparison to this, it was a mere shadow of a thing.
Wasn’t that the point? No man had ever made her feel the way Fergus did. The way he looked at her. The way he touched her. The way he made her laugh. The things he understood about her that no one else did. She loved the rebellious kink in his hair and the cleft in his chin. She loved the rapt way he watched her on the tightrope. She didn’t know him, she could not possibly know him after so short an acquaintance, yet she felt as if she understood the essence of him all the same.
She had paced her bedchamber, muttering to herself. It was ridiculous. It was a passing fancy. It was infatuation. It was lust. But no. It was love. She knew it was love. Real love. True love. Devastating love.
She was in love, and she was an idiot, she had finally concluded. Fergus didn’t love her in return. He wouldn’t have been so easily persuaded to leave, if he did. He would have stayed. He would have made love to her again. He would have told her that he loved her. He had been so very careful not to tell her anything at all, save that he wanted her. He was a good man. An honourable man. He would never tell her glib lies. So...
So Fergus did not love her. Most likely Fergus regretted making love to her. Indeed, even more likely, he was waiting in the walled garden to tell her so. It was a mistake, he would say. Or perhaps, it was delightful while it lasted, but now it is over. There was not the slightest hope that he would tell her he loved her.
Pushing aside her untouched coffee, Katerina sped down the main staircase, taking the quickest route to the gardens.
* * *
‘Miss Vengarov.’
‘Lady Verity. If you will excuse me, I...’
‘I am so glad to have bumped into you. I have been wanting to have a private word. It will take but a moment. If you will?’
Reluctantly, Katerina allowed herself to be led along the length of the portrait gallery to a quiet alcove at the end. Lady Verity was looking particularly beautiful in white today, though she also looked slightly uncomfortable. ‘The matter upon which I wish to speak is delicate,’ she said. ‘Were it not for the fact that I rather admire you, Miss Vengarov, and very much respect Colonel Kennedy...’
‘Fergus! Has something happened to Fergus?’
‘Not yet.’
Katerina’s nerves were already frayed. Seeing that Lady Verity, clasping and unclasping her fingers, was obviously steeling herself, she too braced herself. ‘What do you mean, not yet?’
Lady Verity smiled nervously. ‘Miss Vengarov, you must understand, I would not dream of speaking to you on so personal a matter if I wished either you or the colonel anything other than good. I do not wish either of you to be made miserable. You do believe me, don’t you?’
Her earnestness was undeniable. Katerina looked around, at the gallery of Lady Verity’s venerable ancestors gazing down on her, telling herself she was imagining their disapproval, but she had a horrible premonition. ‘I believe you,’ she said hollowly.
‘You love him, don’t you? I saw the way you looked at him yesterday, at the race. I am not mistaken in that, am I?’
It did not occur to her to deny her feelings. She did not want to. She had no blue blood, she had no fortune, she had no pedigree that would mean a thing to Lady Verity and her family. But her feelings were true. ‘I do love him,’ Katerina said defiantly. ‘You are not mistaken.’
‘I thought not.’ Lady Verity stared intently at the portrait of the first Duke of Brockmore for a moment, before resuming in a firmer tone, ‘I don’t know if you are aware of the interview which took place between Colonel Kennedy and the Duke of Wellington yesterday?’
‘I am.’
‘Yes, of course. When I saw him seek you out after the race, I did not know what had transpired, but later, when my uncle informed me why the duke left in such high dudgeon, then it became clear.’
‘Fergus refused the posting in Egypt.’
‘Though in the end, it was offered without strings,’ Lady Verity said with a smile. ‘My uncle could not credit it.’
‘Fergus believes it has lost him Wellington’s good will for ever.’
‘On the contrary, my uncle believes it has earned him Wellington’s eternal respect. Wellington told him that he’d rarely come across a man with such integrity. In fact, my uncle is sure that Colonel Kennedy’s courage in standing up for himself will earn him the pick of any number of choice postings. So sure of this is Uncle Marcus that he has become more set than ever upon the match between us.’
Katerina stared at Lady Verity in dismay. ‘But you were—forgive me, I was under the impression...’
‘That I did not wish to marry Colonel Kennedy,’ Lady Verity said. She pursed her lips. ‘I will confess, just between us, that I could easily have been persuaded to accept the colonel’s hand in marriage, but I could not stomach the idea of living in Egypt.’
‘And now that Fergus is not going to be posted to Egypt...’
‘No.’ Lady Verity flushed. ‘He made it clear that he was not—not inclined to take me as his wife, whatever the circumstances. A rather demoralising truth for an established beauty such as myself,’ she said sardonically, ‘but honest. So few men are, I find.’
‘Then what—I don’t understand. To be blunt, your ladyship, if you do not want him...’
‘But you do, my dear Miss Vengarov, and really, to cut to the chase, you cannot have him. A liaison with a woman from your background—forgive me, but it cannot be ignored.’
If she had spoken less gently, Katerina would have been angry, would have taken umbrage at the insult and walked away. But the kindness behind the brutal truth could not be ignored. A lump rose in her throat. ‘Would it really be so scandalous?’ she asked pathetically.
‘I think you know the answer to that question. Can you imagine the reaction in diplomatic circles, if he were to introduce a tightrope walker as his wife?’
Her words, inadvertently, were a horrible echo of the past. Katerina’s heart sank to her toes. She could imagine it all too well.
Lady Verity pressed her hand. ‘No matter how many excellent qualities the colonel may possess, the one thing which the Duke of Wellington will not overlook is a lack of breeding. Any public association with you would blight his career for ever.’
‘Fergus doesn’t need Wellington’s patronage.’
‘No, but he cannot succeed in a society which shuns him. And they would, Miss Vengarov.’
Lady Verity spoke crisply now, absolutely and utterly devastatingly sure of her ground. Realising how perilously close she had come to allowing history to repeat itself, tears stung Katerina’s eyes, but she blinked furiously. ‘My brother said as much the other day.’
‘Your brother is right. You will be much happier if you stick to your own, and allow the colonel to do so too. I trust I can rely upon you to make the situation plain to him?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If he is so foolish as to make you an offer of any kind...’ Lady Verity said delicately.
‘Clearly, you think it could only be improper. What harm do you imagine I could do Fergus as his mistress?’
‘As his mistress, Miss Vengarov, the harm done would be to you,’ Lady Verity said bluntly. ‘Contrary to common understanding, I do not happen to believe that your habitual lack of decent clothing signifies a habitual lack of morals.’
‘Oh. Thank you.’
‘It makes no difference though, does it? I am in the minority. Besides, you told me you loved him. Would you be happy with such an arrangement?’
Unable to speak, Katerina shook her head.
‘I can rely upon you th
en, to do what is right?’
‘Right,’ Katerina repeated dully. ‘Lie, do you mean? Pretend I don’t love him? Ensure he makes me no offers, proper or improper?’
‘It will spare you both pain, if you do so.’
Katerina brushed away a stray tear. How ironic, in the end, that it was not Fergus who hurt her, but Fergus’s rejected bride. If only she could hate Lady Verity, it would be easier. If only she could believe that she spoke out of malice. She sniffed. ‘Yes, you may rely upon me.’
‘I am very, very sorry, Miss Vengarov, to have caused you so much pain.’
Lady Verity handed her a scrap of lace. Wiping her cheeks, Katerina felt utterly deflated. Before that gallery of aristocratic faces, she could almost feel herself shrinking. She blew her nose vigorously and defiantly on the monogrammed handkerchief before trying to hand it back, only to have it refused with a barely repressed shudder.
‘I brought it on myself.’ Katerina stared at a particularly ugly wolfhound painted at the feet of the second duke. ‘I suppose I must thank you for being so honest with me. I may not sound appreciative, but I am.’
‘I will leave you now. The treasure hunt...’
‘Before you go, I have a favour to ask of you.’
Lady Verity raised a delicate brow. There was a hint of impatience in her countenance. Having prevented the hired help from getting above herself, she was eager to return to her party. The spurt of venom gave Katerina only momentary relief. What did it matter that Lady Verity cared more for her own kind, when it did not alter the facts? ‘Fergus took a great risk in spurning the arrangements proposed by the Duke of Wellington,’ she said. ‘I understand that he proposes to inform the Duke of Brockmore that he will not be making you an offer.’
‘Colonel Kennedy wishes to spare me my uncle’s wrath.’
‘By incurring it himself.’
Lady Verity’s cool smile faded. ‘What are you implying?’
‘That Fergus doesn’t deserve to contend with two dukes. That you ought to take some responsibility for your own fate, just as you have asked me to take responsibility for mine.’
‘If I tell my uncle that I will not have the colonel, he will be furious. You do not understand, Miss Vengarov, I have already refused several matches. My uncle is fast losing patience with me.’
‘Don’t you wish to be married?’
Lady Verity stared down at her hands. ‘I have a perverse wish to make my own choice.’
It seemed perverse indeed to Katerina, at that moment. ‘What is preventing you from doing so?’
The question elucidated an odd little laugh. ‘An obstinate desire to postpone choosing?’
Emotionally drained, Katerina lost patience. ‘Yet no desire at all to permit me to choose. You will admit, those do seem rather like double standards,’ she said waspishly. ‘Oblige me by speaking to your uncle, Lady Verity. You owe me that much. Don’t let Fergus take any more blame.’
Her ladyship sighed heavily. ‘It is rather annoying to discover one has a conscience. Very well, I shall do as you ask, but if it is to be before the treasure hunt, you must excuse me. My uncle has paired me with Colonel Kennedy. It seems I must find a new partner from the somewhat limited choice.’
* * *
Fergus had waited in the walled garden until Alexandr Vengarov had turned up and informed him abruptly that he was trespassing. Asked to divulge his sister’s whereabouts, the male half of the Flying Vengarovs’ countenance had darkened. ‘If my sister has any sense, she will stay away from you.’
Fergus’s fists clenched automatically. Only the realisation that Vengarov would not be warning him off unless Katerina had failed to heed a similar warning made him turn on his heel and leave. He was rewarded, as he crossed the marble-tiled reception hall, with the vision of Katerina herself descending the staircase. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’
She jumped. Her hands fluttered to her breast. ‘Fergus.’
‘In the flesh, though you look as if you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’ She gave herself a little shake and joined him at the foot of the steps. ‘Aren’t you taking part in the treasure hunt?’
‘I’ve a rather more important quest of my own to resolve. I need to talk to you. Come into the library.’
He took the precaution of turning the key in the lock. Katerina sat on the edge of a seat by the window. She looked paler than usual. There were dark shadows under her eyes. A good or a bad sign? He didn’t want to cause her sleepless nights. At least he did—but not that kind. Lord, but he was nervous. He took an anxious turn towards the desk, picked up a brass paperweight in the shape of a lion, and put it down again.
‘Katerina.’
She jumped up from her seat. ‘Fergus, yesterday...’
He took her hands in his. He looked down into her big green eyes and his heart turned over. ‘Yesterday, I left you because I didn’t know what to say. I had no words for how you made me feel, but now I do. I love you, Katerina.’
Tears welled up in her eyes. ‘Oh, Fergus.’
‘I love you with all my heart.’
Her mouth trembled. ‘Oh, Fergus. No.’
‘But I do.’ He tried to pull her to him, but she resisted. ‘Katerina, I love you.’
‘You can’t.’
‘I know it’s only been a week, but I feel as if I’ve known you for ever. From the first moment I saw you I felt—transfixed. You fascinated me. The more I knew of you, the more I wanted to know. And yesterday, when we made love—I’ve never felt like that before. I love you, Katerina. I want to spend my life with you.’
Tears streaked down her cheeks. She shook her head. ‘You can’t.’
His stomach clenched. ‘I know there will be difficulties for us to overcome. I will not pretend that I have any idea of how we will live, but if you love me as I love you, surely that is all that matters?’
He felt her shudder. The expression on her face was tragic. ‘It’s not, Fergus,’ she said. ‘If I—if I loved you...’ She broke off on a sob, wrenching herself free, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. ‘It would be a very poor love indeed, to allow you to give up everything. I am sorry.’
He could not take it in. He hadn’t realised how certain he had been that his feelings were returned. ‘You don’t love me?’ he said stupidly.
Katerina turned away, her shoulders hunched. ‘I am sorry,’ she said.
Fergus ran his hand through his hair. He felt as if he was plummeting to earth. She didn’t love him. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until she changed her mind. No, he didn’t want that at all. He didn’t want to have to change her mind. He couldn’t force her to love him. No, but by heavens, he could make her bloody miserable by forcing his feelings on her.
What Katerina loved was performing, Fergus recalled. Was it that? ‘You know I would never ask you to quit the tightrope unless you wanted to,’ he said.
‘I know.’ Another sob racked her body. She turned around to face him. Her face was chalk white, her eyes huge, drenched in tears. ‘I know you would never ask anything of me that I could not—that would be wrong. Please don’t ask, Fergus. I can’t bear it,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry.’
Covering her face with her hands, Katerina fled the room. Fergus fell on to a chair, feeling as if his legs had been blown from under him by a cannonball. His heart and his head were quite numb. Staring blankly into space, he was in a trance-like state when the door opened and Lady Verity entered the room escorted by the merchant, Desmond Falkner.
‘Colonel Kennedy! I hope you have not beaten us to it. I believe it is contained in one of my uncle’s books.’ She consulted the slip of paper in her hand which Fergus realised, vaguely, must be the list of treasure-hunt clues. Getting to his feet was an effort.
‘Lady Verity was good e
nough to partner me when Sir Timothy claimed Mrs Lamont,’ Falkner said.
‘Two minds are better than one, Mr Falkner,’ Lady Verity said, waving a book at him. ‘I have found it, and I do believe our next clue is in the portrait gallery. If we are quick, the diamond may yet be ours.’
‘You will excuse us, Colonel.’ Falkner made his bow and left the room, so excited by the hunt that he seemed not to have noticed that Fergus had remained quite silent.
‘One moment,’ Lady Verity said, closing the door behind him. ‘Are you quite well, Colonel? You look rather pale.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘Really?’ She raised her brows disbelievingly. ‘Well, I have news that may make you feel a little better. I have spoken to my uncle,’ Lady Verity said. ‘It was pointed out to me that I was being rather selfish in allowing you to take responsibility for what was as much my decision as yours. I am not such a coward after all. Now, you will excuse me, I have a diamond to find.’
Alone again, Fergus stared at the door. What had she said to make him so uneasy? It took him a moment, but finally he realised. Ruling out the duke himself, there was only one person here at Brockmore Manor who would have had the courage to tell Lady Verity how to behave. And, he thought, only one reason she would dare to do so?
He truly hoped so.
* * *
The very last thing Katerina wished to do was attend tonight’s Russian dinner in the maze, but she could think of no excuse that would not arouse Alexei’s suspicions. After she fled the library feeling as if her heart might break, she had cried herself into a stupor. Knowing that Fergus loved her made it so much harder to give him up. The pain in his voice had almost been her undoing. It had taken every ounce of willpower to hold fast, clinging to the knowledge that Lady Verity was right, that Alexei was right, that there could never be a place and time where she and Fergus could be happy. She would not ruin him. She would not allow him to ruin himself. She loved him too much to do anything other than leave him but oh, how it hurt to have to do so without even the salve of telling him that his love was returned.
Scandal at the Midsummer Ball Page 10