When a Lord Needs a Lady

by Jane Goodger

  Her mother waved a hand at her, then smiled at the general. “He’s harmless enough. And I do enjoy his company. He has such a wonderful way of telling a story. I haven’t laughed so much in years.”

  Katherine eyed the general skeptically. She’d thought him rather loud and boisterous, but she supposed he was good company.

  They carried their plates to the large dining table, her mother sitting next to the general and Katherine beside her. Within moments, the Von Haupts had gotten their food and seated themselves across from their party.

  “Good morning, Miss Von Haupt, Mrs. Von Haupt,” Katherine said politely. She looked at the door, hoping to see Marjorie and Lady Summerfield enter but was disappointed.

  “Good morning, Miss Wright,” Claudia said brightly, and Katherine swore Mrs. Von Haupt cringed. “Are you excited about today’s hunt?”

  Katherine wrinkled her nose. “I know it’s not quite the thing to disdain the hunt while in England, but I do believe I’ll stay here and catch up with my correspondence today.”

  “Or you could come with us,” Claudia said, causing Mrs. Von Haupt’s head to turn so quickly, Katherine thought the older woman might have harmed her neck. “Lord Avonleigh’s estate is less than an hour’s ride and we’re going to visit it.”

  “I’m sure the Wrights have other things they’d rather do,” Mrs. Von Haupt said with such false politeness, Katherine felt her temperature rise.

  “Actually,” Katherine’s mother said, “that would be lovely.” This time it was Katherine’s turn to snap her head around. She widened her eyes, trying to tell her mother it was not a good idea to tag along, but she could see any protest would be in vain. Her mother was having entirely too much fun trying to torture Mrs. Von Haupt.

  “Thank you so much for inviting us,” Elizabeth said, before turning to the general and inviting him to join their small party.

  “I’ve heard enough gunshots in my lifetime,” he said, his tone edged with a bit of poignancy. “And I’d like to see Bryant Park again. I remember visiting the place when the old marquess was alive. Grand old building.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Claudia gushed. “The more the merrier.” And Katherine began to wonder if Claudia was afraid to be alone with Lord Avonleigh. She thought back to all those stories she’d heard about him, how gruff and serious he was, how caustic and jaded. Was that the man Claudia saw?

  Katherine did not want to go, for she knew if she did, Graham would no doubt try to maneuver her to be alone with him, and she wasn’t sure she could resist him. Even now, she felt that odd tug. She’d thought a great deal about what Marjorie had told her at the picnic and she’d decided she would not put him in danger of being forced to marry her—or herself in danger of ruining her reputation. She knew she should not have gone into that glade alone with him. She’d been taught better than that. She believed wholeheartedly in having good morals, in keeping oneself pure before marriage. The problem with having these high moral beliefs was dealing with them once they were tested. She was afraid if he asked for another kiss, she’d quickly forget about everything else and fall into his arms. What kind of girl did that make her?

  Graham knew God had not answered his most fervent prayers when he woke up to see the sun shining brightly. Where was the bloody rotten weather when you needed it? He would have much preferred attending the hunt than dragging Miss Von Haupt and her mother to Bryant Park. He had no idea who would make up their party, but he did know Katherine would not be among them. She’d been studiously avoiding him since their kiss, and he could find no fault in her doing so. He’d been rash, foolishly so, but he could not honestly say he regretted it. Perhaps that was not completely honest. He did regret kissing her, if only because it had made him mad for more.

  Bryant Park was relatively small, by aristocratic standards. The house itself had been built in the late seventeenth century on three hundred acres, a relatively diminutive plot. Graham knew he should sell it—as his solicitor had suggested—but the old place wouldn’t bring much, and he felt if he did let it go, he would be selling the last memories of his father off to a stranger. It was the only bit of unentailed property he owned, and he was probably every kind of fool not to sell it, but just the thought of strangers living in it, renovating it, made him physically ill. Once, it had held a large bevy of servants. Now, the rich golden exterior held only a skeleton crew of aging staff who could barely keep the old place livable. As he had in Avonleigh, he hadn’t let a single person go at Bryant Park, but he hadn’t replaced anyone in ten years—whether they left for more lucrative employment elsewhere or died. Even a small house like Bryant Park should have nearly two times the staff he had on hand, and the thought that he would someday soon be able to run the old place the way it should be run was gratifying.

  It was embarrassing to bring the Americans to see it. He knew Mrs. Von Haupt in particular would be assessing the place with greedy eyes, likely redecorating each room to suit her own lavish taste. The main living areas of the home were well-maintained, if a bit worn. But the upper floors were all but empty, furniture that was worth selling long gone. Halls empty of paintings, sitting rooms with no furniture to sit upon. He’d sold every bit of unentailed property his father had owned except for Bryant Park, then put nearly every dime of it into a growing American brokerage house, Jay Cooke & Company. Graham had been assured that his money would not only be safe, but would grow tenfold. He’d personally spoken to several investors who swore by the man, who’d made a fortune with Cooke. Cooke was a genius at investing, he’d been assured, but only two years after his investment, he’d received word of the company’s full collapse. All his money was gone, and he had absolutely no hope of regaining it for he had no more funds to invest. Just the thought of the telegram he’d received not six months earlier made his heart pound sickeningly in his chest. He’d been so damned certain all his financial woes had been solved, only to find out he was in far worse shape than he’d ever been. His meetings in Brighton had proved fruitless and humiliating. There was no way to earn back the money he’d lost with Cooke.

  It had taken him two months to come to grips with this new reality; the only way for him to quickly gain enough money to save his estate and help his tenants at Avonleigh was through marriage. And the only marriageable women with that kind of money were Americans.

  His man of business, Menders, had made a list of American heiresses, and Katherine Wright wasn’t even on it as a potential bride—whether because of their finances or her parents’ rather humble beginnings, he did not know. He did know Menders found the list slightly distasteful, handing it to him with obvious reluctance. It was nearly unheard of for a member of the peerage to even consider marrying a commoner (worse still, an American commoner) —unless she was a great heiress, which Katherine was not.

  Just that brief thought of her filled him with uncomfortable longing. He knew they were playing a dangerous game, but he found he could not stop himself. This feeling was so beyond his experience, it was more than disturbing. He knew he could not marry her, he knew he could not have her, and yet he felt compelled to be with her, touch her. God above knew he didn’t want to feel this way. It was a completely foreign notion—a woman who fascinated him.

  Graham walked from the house and stopped abruptly when he saw Katherine and Claudia standing side-by-side, both looking charming in their riding habits. Their mothers sat in a carriage— Mrs. Von Haupt looking stone-faced and Mrs. Wright appearing relaxed and happy. General Lawton, in full regalia, sat across from the ladies, animatedly telling a story.

  “What an unexpected surprise,” Graham said, gazing levelly at Katherine.

  “I do hope you don’t mind,” Claudia gushed. “This morning at breakfast Miss Wright mentioned she was not attending the hunt, and I invited her along with us.”

  Graham raised one eyebrow. “Really. How thoughtful of you, Miss Von Haupt.”

  “Mrs. Von Haupt was thrilled to have company in the carriage,” Katherine said bla
ndly, but her eyes sparkled in mirth.

  While the groomsmen assisted the ladies onto their horses, he mounted his own horse, patting its neck affectionately. His rooms might be empty at Bryant Park, but he hadn’t yet had the heart to empty his stable. He had some of the finest cattle in England, including the fine Arabian he now sat upon.

  “A beautiful animal,” Katherine said. “My father has a few Arabians back home at his parents’ farm. He’s the envy of the neighborhood.”

  “I imagine he is.”

  “We don’t have Arabians,” Claudia said. “Just regular horses. A matching black pair for our carriage. But mother wants to replace one because it has a small white spot on its nose and the other hasn’t any. She says it’s easier to find a horse without a spot than one with a spot just like the one he has. Or is it a she?” She giggled. “I’m not really certain.”

  “You can tell by looking beneath,” Katherine said. “If it has male parts, it’s male.”

  Claudia blushed crimson. “Oh, I could never do that.” Graham had to use all his will not to smile at the exchange, but he could not stop himself from darting a glance at Katherine, who gave him a look of pure innocence that he didn’t believe for a moment.

  Claudia and Katherine led the way, with Graham behind them and the carriage trailing a bit. The two women sat their horses beautifully, but his eyes were drawn to Katherine, to the way she held her head so proudly, to the large lavender plume that bobbed in time to her horse’s steps. He’d never met a woman so enamored with silly hats. Nature had not created a feather that color, he was fairly certain.

  “I say, Miss Wright, what type of bird did your feather come from?”

  She turned her head so he could see the sharp definition of her jaw. “American ostrich.” No hesitation. No hint that she had just made up a species of bird. “They run wild about Central Park.”

  And poor Claudia, bless her, looked aghast at Katherine as if learning something absolutely amazing. “I’ve never seen a wild ostrich. Why, when I get home I’ll have to have Papa take me looking for one.”

  Katherine looked over to her companion, and felt instantly sorry for making up such a tale. “I was teasing, Claudia. It’s a dyed African ostrich feather.”

  “Oh.” She was clearly disappointed.

  “You won’t be back home for quite a while at any rate, will you?” Claudia looked instantly alarmed, as if she’d quite forgotten what she was doing in England. “No, I don’t suppose I will,” she said slowly.

  They rode in silence for perhaps five paces before Claudia recovered and began talking. Claudia chatted on—and on—about parties she’d gone to in New York, about people Katherine knew of but hardly counted in her circle of friends. She could feel Graham behind her, silent and no doubt staring at her. It was almost as if his gaze could physically manifest itself and caress her spine. She felt the nearly overwhelming urge to turn around and tell him to stop, and only the realization of how stupid she would look to everyone in their party halted her.

  Finally, Claudia’s prattling was too much for him to bear, and he retreated to the carriage two dozen yards back to talk to the general.

  “Do you shop on Fifth Avenue?” Claudia asked, then continued on as if Katherine’s answer had no bearing whatsoever to whether she’d tell her next tale. “There was this lovely necklace in Carlyle’s window. Stunning sapphire and diamond with a charming little floret, and I wanted it so badly. I’d walk by almost every day.” She turned to Katherine and laughed. “I do love to shop. My friends and I, mostly Barbara Knight, would stare and stare at it. She wanted it nearly as badly as I. Of course, I asked Mama and then Papa, but it was very dear, you see. Quite beyond anything I had in my collection of jewels. But I pestered them endlessly. I nearly made myself sick with the wanting of it. Have you ever felt that way about anything?”

  A bit startled that she was actually being asked to participate in this conversation, Katherine said, “A bit.”

  “I get that way about nearly everything I truly want,” Claudia confessed. “One day, the necklace was gone. I was quite upset, as you can imagine. Wouldn’t you know it? At my birthday, my father presented me with that sapphire and diamond necklace.”

  “My goodness, you must have been thrilled,” Katherine said, now fully engaged in the story.

  “That’s just it, I wasn’t. The day the necklace disappeared from the window, I was disappointed certainly, but there was another pretty necklace in its place and I rather liked that one, too. Not as much as the first, mind you, but it was still lovely and not nearly so expensive. And when I finally had the necklace, I realized I didn’t really want it after all. It’s heavy and uncomfortable and doesn’t go with a thing I have.”

  “Ah,” Katherine said. “Be careful what you wish for.”

  Claudia brightened upon hearing that adage. “Yes.” Then she frowned. “I fear I feel about Lord Avonleigh the same as I felt about that necklace,” she said in a rush, looking as if she might be ill.

  “Oh no, I’m sure you do not. He is a person, not a necklace. He’s going to be your husband.”

  Claudia stared ahead, clearly distressed. “Can I tell you something?”

  “Of course,” Katherine said.

  “Yesterday, when you were in the woods with Lord Avonleigh and we came upon you, I . . .” Claudia pressed her lips together.

  “Yes?” Katherine urged, even though she was filled with sudden trepidation. What if Claudia suspected they’d been kissing? She truly wasn’t certain what she could say.

  “I was hoping we’d catch you in a compromising position,” Claudia said in a giddy rush.

  “What?” Too loud. Then, “What can you possibly mean?”

  “Oh, I know it was awful of me even to think such a thing, but I thought if you were compromised, I wouldn’t have to marry him.” She closed her eyes briefly and let out a small sound, as if she were in pain. “Is that horrid?”

  “Yes, it is. Very,” Katherine said fervently. She thought back upon what Marjorie had told her. She’d always known on some level how scandalous such an occurrence would be, but she now had a much better understanding. “It would hurt everyone. You and Lord Avonleigh most of all.”

  “I suppose it would,” Claudia said, sounding disappointed.

  “Don’t you want to marry Lord Avonleigh?”

  “Yes, no. I don’t know. He frightens me. He’s always scowling and growling things at me. And he does truly seem to like you. He smiled at you. He laughed with you.”

  For just an instant, Katherine wished she had been caught in that glade, wished it fervently. Then Marjorie’s outrage rang in her ears.

  “He isn’t an entirely unpleasant man,” Katherine said. “I think once you get to know him, you’ll agree.”

  Claudia wrung her hands, and her mount, as if sensing her distress, shied a bit before straightening. “I’m certain you are right. Father will be here soon. We expect him any day now and then everything will be settled.”

  “And just imagine, you’ll be a marchioness.”

  “And I’ll live there,” Claudia said, pointing ahead as her face brightened like a little girl who’d just seen her first pony.

  Bryant Park was made from golden stone, a home as grand as the title it housed. Two wings of the building reached out as if to embrace Katherine. Its copper roof was streaked with age, its chimneys blackened from centuries of use. It looked as if it would stand there forever, waiting for her to come to it.

  As they drew closer, Graham caught up with them. “What do you think?” he asked.

  “Can we paint it?” Claudia asked. “I mean to say, have you ever thought about painting it?”

  Graham looked as if he’d just swallowed a large walnut, shell and all. “Paint?”

  “Think how grand it would look white.”

  Katherine stared at the stone structure and tried to picture it whitewashed. “But, Claudia, the paint would chip so close to the sea. You’d constantly be having to paint i
t. And the smell. Awful. I think you’re much better off keeping it this lovely yellow stone.”

  “You think it lovely?” Graham asked, his voice low.

  Katherine looked at him and tried to brace herself for the impact of his eyes on her—and failed miserably. Why was it whenever she looked upon him, she felt as if her lungs ceased to work properly? “I think it’s the loveliest home I’ve ever seen.”

  “Truly?” Claudia asked, looking at the house a bit skeptically. “Have you seen Blenheim Palace? It’s quite grander than this. The Duke of Marble lives there.”

  “Marlborough,” Graham corrected.

  Claudia waved a dismissive hand, as if it didn’t matter what the duke’s title was. “Yes. Marlborough. He has quite a lovely home.”

  Behind them, the carriage pulled up, and Graham dismounted gracefully and handed his reins to a waiting groom. He waved a rather elderly looking footman away and helped the two older women down from the carriage.

  “Oh.” Mrs. Von Haupt looked upon the manor house as if it were a grave disappointment. “The photographs I’ve seen made it seem quite a bit bigger.” She looked down at the rutted drive, her eyes taking in the stained stones, the cracked steps that led up to a door that perhaps needed some refinishing to bring it back to grandeur. “And in better condition.”

  Katherine saw Graham clench his jaw, but he remained rigidly polite. “Yes, she has seen better days.”

  “Everything in England is so very old, isn’t it,” Claudia said, sounding slightly dismayed.

  “The inside is far worse,” Graham said grimly, and almost in a tone that sounded as though he was rather enjoying their disappointment. “If you think Bryant Park is run-down, you should see Avonleigh Manor in Northumberland. Last time I was there it had bats.”

  Claudia looked horrified, which Katherine suspected was his intent. “Bats? I shouldn’t like that.”