by Wilma Counts
“So, tell us, Kate,” he said to prolong the pleasant interlude, “how you came to be so musically adept.”
“My father insisted all his children learn to play some instrument,” she replied. “When my sister Beatrice and I showed a bit of talent on the pianoforte, he readily provided lessons.”
“He made the right choice,” Lady Elinor said. “You certainly are testimony to his wisdom in doing so.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
Jeremy noted a faint blush, but no false modesty in her demeanor. “That was a detail left out of our London interview a few months ago.”
Her blush deepened. “I am truly sorry I deceived you so. I—it seemed a right solution at the time.”
“And Phillips knew all along?”
“Yes, but to his credit, he did suggest I should tell you the truth.”
“You should have.”
She put aside her guitar and sat up straighter, a challenging glint in her eyes. “Now be honest, my lord. Would you have invited Lady Arthur Gardiner and her titled son—strangers—for an extended visit at Kenrick Hall?”
“Well, no, probably not,” he admitted.
She gave him an arch look. “Given the issues you already faced, should that not be definitely not?”
“She has you there, Jeremy,” his aunt said.
“Oh, all right,” he said. “Back to the point I intended. Aside from your connection to Wynstan, just who are you?”
With occasional comments or questions from her two companions, she gave them a forthright, albeit brief, account of her earlier life.
No wonder they called her the Angel of the 46th, Jeremy thought. It took a very strong degree of courage and fortitude for a young, gently bred woman to defy an autocratic father and the conventions of society and then deal with the hardships of an army on the march.
On the heels of her last comment, Robert strolled into the room. “Confession time finally?” he asked with grin.
“You might say that,” she said.
“I have some news that should interest all of you,” Robert said and paused.
“Well?” Jeremy and Lady Elinor said simultaneously.
“Wynstan did not go to the inn.” Again he paused.
“He left Yorkshire?” Jeremy asked.
“Oh, no. He is still in the area. He is a guest of Sir Eldridge Mortimer.”
“He is a friend of Mortimer?” Jeremy asked with a glance at Kate.
She shrugged. “Not that I know of.”
“I suppose he is now,” Robert said. “Way I heard it, Mortimer was in town and dropped into the inn. He heard Wynstan come in and learned he had had some business here at Kenrick. He introduced himself and assured the duke he could offer accommodation more fitting Wynstan’s rank than a mere country inn could.”
Jeremy shook his head. “So the encroaching Sir Eldridge snagged himself a duke as a house guest.”
“The innkeeper Finley was mad as hops about the loss of custom,” Robert went on, “and Mrs. Finley was even madder.”
“She is very proud of the bed and board she provides,” Lady Elinor said. “Sir Eldridge likely offended her mightily. And Agnes Finley is not one to suffer in silence.”
“Let us hope that knight and his new friend the duke don’t come up with further mischief to plague our favorite earl,” Robert said with a nod at Jeremy.
“Amen,” Lady Elinor said.
Jeremy directed a look of understanding sympathy toward Kate, but one tinged with apprehension. What might those two powerful, tyrannical blackguards—his nemesis and hers combining forces—come up with to plague them further?
When Lady Elinor voiced her wish to retire, Robert, having as he put it, “had a sufficiently long day,” offered to escort her above stairs to her chamber. Kate rose to do so as well.
Jeremy too was on his feet. “Kate, a word, if you please.”
She turned from the door. “Uh-oh. Here it comes,” she thought. The dressing-down she deserved. “Yes, my lord?”
“Jeremy will do as well tonight as it did last night,” he said, closing the distance between them, then the door as well. He gripped her elbow and steered her to a couch, where he sat beside her. She felt herself blush at his reference to the previous night, but, no, she would not allow him to disconcert her.
He ran his hand through his hair in a gesture she found endearing, for it showed a degree of vulnerability and uncertainty that she was sure he did not intend.
Finally, he took her hand in his and seemed to be floundering for his words. “Last night I . . . offered marriage to a woman I—uh—care for a great deal.”
“Your housekeeper.”
“My housekeeper.” His tone became firmer. “Today, she is the same woman. My feelings have not changed.”
“But? You are having second thoughts today?” Kate tried to hide her disappointment. “Never mind, Jeremy. I will not hold you to a bedroom declaration.” She refused to look at him and tried to rise.
He slipped an arm around her shoulders and with his other hand gently turned her face to his. “No. I am not having second thoughts—not about the woman, nor about my wish to marry her.”
“Even though you thought her capable of bedding one brother while carrying on with the other?”
He removed his hand from her chin, but held her gaze with his. “You distort what I meant then—and distract from the point I want to make now.”
She moved away slightly, but his arm remained firmly around her shoulders. She said, “And the point is . . . ?”
He gave her a rueful smile. “There is more than one now. Yesterday, even hovering on the edge of genteel poverty as I may be, I had something to offer a housekeeper. Today, I haven’t much to offer the mother of a son who will one day be a very rich, very powerful man.”
“Today, she is in danger of being transported and—of—of losing her son.” She was unable to quell sob.
“My dear Kate.” He pulled her close and kissed her tenderly. “I shall do all in my power to prevent both those things from happening.”
“H—how?”
“First of all, we announce our heretofore secret engagement.” He put a finger to her lips when she started to speak. “Hear me out. We make the announcement—tomorrow night. If you want to cry off later—well, so be it. But no court would order that the intended wife of a peer be transported for anything short of murder or treason.”
Feeling a twinge of hope for the first time since Ned had burst in with news of Wynstan’s arrival, she gave him a faint smile that quickly faded. “What about Ned? Oh, Jeremy—I cannot lose him. I cannot have him harmed.”
“Shh. Of course you cannot.” He kissed her again.
Overcome by relief at being able at last to share this greatest fear, she returned the kiss fiercely. It deepened, and when he pulled away, they were both breathing heavily.
“Jeremy,” she said softly, leaning toward him.
He stood and pulled her to her feet, giving her a lopsided grin. “I know I am going to regret this within minutes—but, no, I shall not take advantage of this moment. I want more than gratitude from you, Kate.”
With that, he gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and gently pushed her toward the door.
Surprised and taken aback, Kate climbed the stairs to yet another of Kenrick Hall’s bedchambers.
Jeremy was right.
Within minutes he regretted sending her away.
CHAPTER 19
At breakfast the next morning Kate and Jeremy informed Robert and Lady Elinor of the plan to announce their engagement at supper that evening. When the other two offered hearty and sincere congratulations, Kate was uncomfortable.
“Please. I am willing to be party to a show for others, but I could not endure any more deceit with the two of you. This is a scheme—Jeremy’s plan to forestall Wynstan’s having me transported.”
“That is the primary reason,” Jeremy said. “But there is also the matter of the slurs he made about a wom
an of the peerage being so long in the home of an unmarried man.”
“Wynstan and the Mortimers will make much of that, I am sure,” Lady Elinor said.
“Be that as it may,” Kate continued, “when the issue of Ned’s guardianship is settled, I fully intend to release Lord Kenrick from such a commitment.”
“But, my dear,” Lady Elinor protested, “you will be called a jilt, thus justifying in some circles exactly what Wynstan suggested.”
“Jeremy, you agreed to this?” Robert asked.
Jeremy shrugged. “It is Kate’s life. Hers and Ned’s. She must do as she deems best.”
Kate thought she should be pleased with this response, but somehow she found it unsatisfying—then scolded herself for being so contrary. Aloud she said, “Any negative talk will have long since died down by the time Ned is of an age for it to matter to him.”
Now that her true identity was known to all and sundry, Kate felt out of place in the servants’ milieu and not wholly comfortable as a guest. Neither fish nor fowl again, she thought sourly. It had been that way ever since a squire’s daughter had eloped with a duke’s son. She had managed eventually to forge a place for herself on the Peninsula, and, until Wynstan’s untimely visit, she had felt comfortable here too.
In between?
Well, at first she had simply not cared. Numb with grief as a new widow, she wandered through her days much like a sleepwalker. So long as Ned was cared for, nothing else mattered. Only when she found him suffering had she been jarred out of her lethargy.
Here at Kenrick Hall—her attraction to its master aside—she had truly begun to develop a sense of belonging, a sense of being in the right place. Her son was happy and the two of them were free, if only temporarily. Yes, it was temporary, but she had hoped it would last a few more months, perhaps a year or two.
Now . . . Now what? She felt so helpless. She was helpless. All her options were in the hands of others. Never before had Katherine Emma Newton Gardiner felt so powerless. The very worst of it was her inability to ensure her son’s right to a normal childhood, his right to make his own choices and—yes—his own mistakes in life.
These thoughts haunted her even as she devised a menu with Mrs. Jenkins for the evening meal and conferred with Wilkins regarding wine and table settings. Then she sought escape from her worries in the herb garden. If only she could dispose of life’s troubles so easily as attacking weeds or pinching off unwelcome buds.
That was where Wilkins found her: on her knees, cursing weeds.
“Ah, I thought this was where you might have disappeared to.”
She stood. “Mr. Wilkins, you know me far too well.” She immediately felt herself blushing at the irony in this statement.
“Yes. Well. Guests have arrived and your presence is required,” Wilkins said.
“Not Wynstan, I hope.”
“No. Not Wynstan. Two gentlemen from London.”
Puzzled, she removed her gloves and a battered straw hat and wished she were wearing something more presentable than a dark cotton print dress.
“How do I look?” she asked nervously.
“You’ll do,” the normally austere butler said with a very slight twitch of his lips. Maybe that hard-won rapport had not been erased entirely.
In the drawing room, along with Jeremy, Robert, and Lady Elinor, Kate found two familiar, very welcome faces.
“Mr. Phillips! Major Lawrence! How very nice to see you!” She extended both her hands and a warm smile to each in turn. “You know that Wynstan—”
“Yes. That is why we are here, Lady Arthur. Kenrick and Chilton have been bringing us up to date,” Major Lawrence said as the gentlemen resumed their seats in separate chairs and Kate sat on a couch next to Lady Elinor.
“As you know, I have a property near Wynstan’s main holding,” Lawrence went on. “Arthur was a particular friend of mine,” he said for the benefit of the Chiltons. “Ned is my godson. When I heard that the duke was sure he had located them, I notified Phillips.”
“And as I had some business to discuss with Kenrick anyway, we decided to come ourselves,” Phillips added. “We have arrived rather dusty and travel-worn, but with the documentation required to put finish to Wynstan’s claims.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” Kate said, feeling tears of relief threaten. She looked from the visitors to Jeremy and Robert. “Can we . . . can we notify Wynstan immediately?”
Robert laughed. “Phillips and Lawrence are quite ahead of us on that mission!”
“We encountered the Bow Street Runner, Hoskins, at the Kenrick Inn. He was satisfied that the two of us are Lord Spenland’s guardians,” Phillips said.
Lawrence added, “He was on his way to inform Wynstan when we left the inn. I do not envy the man that task.”
“All’s well that ends well?” Kate’s voice was shaky.
“Perhaps,” Jeremy cautioned. “I do not want to dash hopes here, but I think we must take Wynstan’s parting threat seriously. Were he to have physical possession of the lad, we would have a serious problem, would we not, Wally?” He addressed Phillips. “You are the solicitor here.”
Phillips nodded. “We surely would. Probably take an act of Parliament to rectify. And Wynstan wields a deal of power in the House of Lords.”
“Oh, dear God,” Kate said softly, putting her hand to her mouth.
Jeremy rose to stand behind her and squeeze her shoulder. “You must not fear unduly, Kate. We will take precautions—like curtailing Ned’s rides so long as Wynstan is in Yorkshire.”
Kate saw Lawrence raise an eyebrow at Jeremy’s gesture and his use of her given name, but she felt warmed and reassured by Jeremy’s use of we.
“Thank you, my lord.” She rose and smoothed her skirt nervously as she smiled at all of them. “And, now, since I am still the Kenrick housekeeper, I had best see to rooms for these gentlemen and additional places at the evening meal.”
Supper that evening was not the first meal Jeremy had hosted for guests since his return to England, but was certainly one of the more enjoyable such occasions. Margaret should be here now, he thought. Mrs. Packwood and the Dennison ladies had oohed and aahed over the elegance of the table settings and flowers. The meal itself was outstanding, with subtle uses of herbs and spices to both fish and meat dishes.
But the Earl of Kenrick had an additional reason for feeling rather expansive this evening. Earlier in the day, as Major Lawrence and Robert, veterans of the Peninsula and Waterloo, refought a battle or two and caught each other up on their respective lives since, Phillips had been delivering some welcome news to Jeremy.
“I assume the business you mentioned to Kate had to do with certain cargo ships?” Jeremy asked as he and Phillips trailed behind the other two on the way out to the stables so Robert could show off his newest acquisition.
Phillips grinned. “It does. All three of the remaining ships docked four days ago.”
“Cargo intact?”
“Cargo intact. We are not nabobs by any means, but we will realize a handsome profit.” Phillips named a sum that had Jeremy’s eyebrows shooting skyward.
“Great! More than we thought to realize, especially after that disaster with the other two.”
“By itself not enough to get you out of the clutches of your chief creditor, but with other income, maybe—”
“We’ve had a setback on the wool production,” Jeremy said as they neared the stable and heard Robert call to a groom to bring out his black. “I’ll explain tonight, for I’d like your advice on how to proceed.”
Thus had Jeremy approached this evening’s gathering with a lighter heart than he might have otherwise done.
When dessert was served—a delicious peach tart—Jeremy leaned over to murmur to Kate, who sat at his right, “I might have preferred a strawberry pie.”
She colored up just as he had expected, but managed to say calmly, “ ’Tis not the season for strawberries, my lord.”
He shook his head in an exaggerated grima
ce and said, “Just my luck.”
She pressed her lips together and gave him a look of exasperation, but he was sure she was trying not to smile.
When the table had been cleared of dessert, Jeremy nodded to Wilkins, who produced the requisite glasses and filled them with chilled champagne. Jeremy looked at Kate, but refused to acknowledge a panicky question he saw in her eyes. He rose and, placing a hand under her elbow, brought her to her feet beside him.
“My friends, Lady Arthur and I want to take this opportunity to announce that she has made me a very happy man by agreeing to become my wife.”
Shocked silence ensued as Jeremy lifted his glass in a salute to Kate, then the others quickly recovered and lifted glasses too.
“Oh, I say. Congratulations, Kenrick,” Major Lawrence said to a chorus of “Hear! Hear!” around the table.
Kate was dumbfounded. Surely the news that Bow Street had no further interest in seeing her transported had made this announcement unnecessary. She had tried several times throughout the day to find an occasion to say as much to Jeremy, but always he was not alone, or nowhere to be found. Now she wondered if that had been deliberate.
But why would he go through with an announcement that now seemed unnecessary? To protect her reputation? To do the right thing? She knew that the present Earl of Kenrick was a man motivated by a very strong sense of duty. Everyone knew that was in part why he was the present earl. After all, he could have stayed in America. She should be grateful for his protection. She was grateful. This thought brought an echo of memory: “I want more than gratitude from you, Kate.”
She gave herself a mental shake. They would sort this out later. She managed to stumble through the rest of the evening without mishap, responding in conversations and performing those duties as hostess that Lady Elinor was unable to do, such as pouring tea when the party returned to the drawing room.
Later, as the local guests left, she received their good wishes for her future happiness with what she hoped was a satisfactory blend of enthusiasm and decorum. When the door closed on the last to leave, she hoped to corner and challenge Jeremy on that ridiculous announcement. However, he forestalled her.