Lord Stanton’s gray eyes were like flint. “I simply want your brother to stop seeing my sister. She deserves better.”
“Better? Yes. I now know exactly why you are so concerned because the Woodvilles are indeed terrible,” scoffed Kate. “I mean, how dreadful it is that I have an excellent teaching record. And isn’t it absolutely horrifying that my uncle, Harold Woodville, is Baron Rookhope? And my brother, who is a decorated war hero, why, he is next in line for the title. Now, that is truly atrocious. And of course, it is clearly beyond the pale that Miss Tessa Penrose, my very good friend who is the sister of Viscount Trevilian, is also a tutor at this school and a patroness of The Benevolent Society for the Women of Whitechapel.” Kate threw her hands in the air. “Heavens, I am practically besmirched up to my very eyeballs. What on earth was Mrs. Brooke thinking when she hired me? Indeed, you must be ruing the fact you danced with a woman like me the other night at Vauxhall. Are you worried that I have left a stain upon your above-reproach reputation too?”
A muscle worked in Lord Stanton’s jaw. “Are you quite finished?” he grated out in a voice as rough as gravel.
“I am.” Kate put a hand to her chest where her heart beat wildly. Now that she’d vented her spleen, she felt shaky and a little sick. Good Lord. Had she really just said all those things? But then, what did it really matter if Lord Stanton and his horrid stepmother thought she was a harpy? They could just add it to the long list of ‘things that were wrong with Kate Woodville’.
Lady Stanton’s face was pinched with anger, her mouth a hard line. “I will make sure the duchess hears about this.”
“So will I,” Kate said faintly and gripped the edge of the mahogany bookcase behind her.
Lord Stanton took a step forward. “Are you all right, Miss Woodville? You’ve gone very pale.”
If Kate hadn’t felt so dizzy, she might have laughed. Now, Lord Stanton begins to act like a gentleman? She waved a dismissive hand. “I expect I’ll be fine. I haven’t eaten in a while, that is all.”
“Or she’s overwrought,” muttered Lady Stanton.
“Phyllis ...” warned Lord Stanton. His gaze returned to Kate. “I shall call for assistance.”
Before Kate could even think to stop him, Lord Stanton strode to the door and disappeared. However, within a minute he returned with Tessa. Her friend didn’t bother to curtsy to Lady Stanton or introduce herself but rushed to her side. “Kate. You’ve had another one of your turns, haven’t you? You must take better care of yourself. When did you last have a meal?”
Kate smiled weakly. “Six o’clock this morning.” It was now almost two but she’d been so used to going without in the past, it was a bad habit of hers to forget to eat.
Tessa frowned. “Take a seat whilst I go to the kitchen for some tea and toast. I won’t be long.”
“And on that note, we shall be leaving,” proclaimed Lady Stanton. “We’ll see ourselves out.” She swept to the door, her cobalt blue skirts whipping about her legs.
Lord Stanton remained by the door as Kate sank onto a nearby settee. “There’s no need to stay, my lord.” She had no idea why he lingered. Surely he wasn’t concerned about her. “Miss Penrose will be back in a few minutes and as I said before, I will be fine.”
He nodded, once. “Yes.” He glanced out into the entry hall then back to her. “I did not come here today to threaten you, Miss Woodville. But I do advise you to speak to your brother. His pursuit of Violet must stop. Good day to you. I hope you feel better soon.”
He bowed, and as the door closed behind him, Kate could almost believe he was a gentleman rather than an arrogant nobleman who had indeed tried to intimidate her.
One thing was certain: she had to speak with Freddie. But would he listen?
Chapter 5
Mrs. Marlowe’s Book Emporium and Tea Shop
One day later ...
Kate took a sip of her Pekoe tea and closed her eyes on a long sigh. It had been an exhausting day at the ladies’ academy, especially so because she’d been half expecting Mrs. Brooke, the headmistress of the school, to call her out of the classroom to demand she explain why she should continue to be employed given her ignominious background. Because she didn’t have any private music lessons scheduled for the latter part of the afternoon, she’d decided to escape to Mrs. Marlowe’s bookshop. She could feel a terrible megrim coming on—no doubt due to stress—and the tea and scones were a welcome balm to soothe her jagged nerves.
“You look absolutely spent, Katie.”
“Why thank you, Freddie.” Kate looked up to find her brother sliding into the wooden chair at her small table in a quiet corner of the tea shop. “You’re looking well too.”
Freddie helped himself to one of her jam and cream laden scones. “I got your message.”
“I see you did.” Kate placed her cup upon the saucer with a decided click. “I’m glad you came. We need to talk about Violet Lockhart.”
Freddie finished his mouthful of scone then reached into his pocket. “I know.” He pushed a slip of paper toward her. “But you needn’t worry any more after you look at this.”
Kate picked up the paper and gasped when she saw what it was. It was a bank note made out to Frederick Woodville for the exorbitant amount of five thousand pounds. From Lord Stanton. “Freddie,” she whispered. “I don’t understand ... Why would Lord Stanton ...? What’s happened?”
Freddie’s lip curled ever so slightly. “Lord Stanton bought me off, that’s what’s happened. He sought me out at my rooms earlier today and offered me a ridiculous sum of money to stay away from Violet.”
“And you agreed?” Kate’s hand shook as she passed the slip of paper back to her brother.
Freddie shrugged. “After a little bit of negotiating, yes.”
“But ... but that is so mercenary, Freddie. Please don’t tell me this was your plan all along. To extort money out of Lord Stanton.”
Freddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course not! What do you take me for, Katie?”
Kate’s face grew hot. “I hardly know these days.”
“I care for Violet Lockhart, more than any woman I’ve ever met before. Indeed, I do believe I love her,” Freddie said in a low, wire-tight voice. “But I know Stanton and his cow of a stepmother threatened you yesterday and I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“How did you know?”
Freddie’s hands curled into fists. “Stanton admitted as much during our ‘discussion’ this morning.”
Katie felt the blood drain from her face. “You two didn’t come to blows, did you?”
“No. But God only knows how I managed to refrain from planting my fist in his face.”
“So that’s it. You are going to walk away from Violet? Even though you love her.”
Freddie’s gaze dropped to the crumb-strewn tabletop and Kate straightaway suspected he lied when he said ‘yes’.
A cold frisson of fear shivered over her skin. “I wouldn’t cross Lord Stanton, Freddie. He doesn’t strike me as the forgiving sort.”
Freddie snorted. “The arrogant cock is a fool.” He picked up the bank note and his mouth tilted into a grin. “So what shall we do with his blunt?”
“I expect you will top up your trust fund.”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind replenishing the coffers a little. But I rather thought we could spend some of the money on a new wardrobe for you, sweet sister. Don’t you have a charity house party and ball to attend in a few months?”
Kate grimaced. “I don’t want to go, but I feel that I must in case Lady Stanton decides to undermine my efforts.” As Kate explained what the viscountess had said to her about The Benevolent Society for the Women of Whitechapel the day before, Freddie’s jaw tightened.
“She really called it a dirty little charity? Right. That settles it, Katie. You must go. I will escort you.”
“Thank you.”
“And in the meantime, we shall put a decent portion of this,” he pointed at the check, “toward some of the
maintenance that needs to be attended to at White Church House. The flooring affected by rising damp needs replacing before winter. And then there’s the dry rot in some of the window frames.”
“I agree.”
“Excellent. I’ll talk to Father Heatley at St. Mary’s before I leave.”
“What? You are leaving? Where are you going?”
“As much as I complain about Uncle Harold, I feel it’s high time I paid him an extended visit. Fenwick House and the estate will be my responsibility some day, and I really should learn the ropes.”
“That’s wonderful,” Kate said with a warm smile. “Uncle Harold will be most pleased.”
She ordered more tea for both of them, and they chatted for a while longer about the repairs for White Church House and other sundry matters before Freddie took his leave. He’d promised he would be back in London in early December to ensure they reached Hollystone Hall in good time to attend the duchess’s house party.
But as Freddie walked out the door, Kate couldn’t help but wonder why there was still a jauntiness in his stride. For a man who had just given up on pursuing the young woman he professed to love, he seemed uncommonly happy.
Which could only mean one thing: Freddie was up to something, she was sure of it. She just needed to work out what that might be.
Chapter 6
Great Missenden, Buckinghamshire
20th December, 1812
Kate shifted uneasily in her carriage seat as she peered out of the rain-spattered window. Or was it sleet sliding down the pane? It was a dark, damp, icy afternoon; the lowering sky was the dark gray of heavily tarnished silver, the sodden fields slipping by, a patchwork of various shades of muddy brown. She suspected dusk wasn’t far off.
“How much farther, Freddie?” she asked.
“To Hollystone Hall?” Freddie glanced out the window then at his pocket watch. “I believe we’re approaching the village of Great Missenden. But I would say it’s at least another ten miles to our destination.”
So hours and hours away at this plodding rate. Kate shivered and pulled the woolen blanket covering her knees up to her chin. “Bother about the rain. It seems to be getting heavier. I hope we don’t get bogged.” They’d left London well before dawn and had been traveling all day with barely a stop. Freddie had hired a private carriage which was comfortable enough, but to think they still had so far to go. In the rain. In the dark ...
Freddie seemed to read her thoughts. “There’s a decent inn up ahead. The Black Nag. I stayed there in September on my way up north to Fenwick House. Why don’t we spend the night there rather than pushing onto Hollystone tonight? I’m sure the duchess won’t mind.”
Kate immediately concurred. The promise of a hot fireside meal and a warm bed was infinitely appealing considering she had lost all feeling in her fingertips and toes. She’d also begun to feel a bit shaky because it had been hours since they’d consumed the last of the roast beef sandwiches that had been packed for the journey. Aside from satisfying her appetite, it would also mean she would be well-rested before seeing the duchess and all of the other tonnish members of the house party, and that could only be to her advantage.
Within ten minutes, their carriage had drawn into the inn yard and Freddie was escorting her across the muddy ground toward the warm and welcoming interior of the Black Nag. Two connecting bedrooms were easily secured and before Kate knew it, they were eating a hearty meal of mutton pie and buttered potatoes before the blazing fire in a private dining room.
With her hunger appeased and her equilibrium restored, Kate could barely keep her eyes open as she drank the last of her tea.
Freddie laughed at her. “I’ve never seen you quite so done in.” He tossed his napkin on the table, rose, then offered her his arm. “Come, my baby sister. I think it’s time you retired for the night.”
Kate wasn’t about to argue with him. At her door, Freddie kissed her forehead. “I’m going to have an ale in the taproom before I turn in. So make sure you lock the door.”
“I will.”
It didn’t take long for Kate to discard her travel rumpled garments and change into a flannel nightgown. The room was quite cozy and warm, and the tester bed with its plump pillows and rosy red counterpane looked more inviting than her narrow bed at the academy. It seemed Freddie was sparing no expense when it came to this endeavor.
Her mouth curved into a rueful smile to think that perhaps Lord Stanton’s money had paid for the hired carriage, these rooms, and indeed her new wardrobe which was packed neatly inside her brand new traveling trunk presently standing at the foot of the bed. Which reminded her, she needed to hang up her smart, new traveling gown of dark green merino wool so the wrinkles would fall out. She didn’t usually fuss about her appearance, but if she wanted to make a good impression on the duchess and the rest of her well-heeled house party guests, she mustn’t look like a poor teacher who had barely two pennies to rub together.
That task done, she washed her face, brushed out her hair and plaited it, snuffed out the bedside candle, then climbed beneath the bed’s covers. The maid who’d brought her warm water for washing had also placed a warm brick between the sheets at the end of the bed. A smile of contentment upon her lips, Kate closed her eyes and let her thoughts wander wherever they wanted to as sleep began to tug her under. Perhaps the house party wouldn’t be such a trial. Perhaps the other guests would be lovely, and not like Lord and Lady Stanton at all.
Lord Stanton. Despite the warmth of the bed, Kate shivered and the pull of slumber waned. What a horrid, arrogant man. It had been months since she’d last seen him but the thought of their last encounter at the academy always filled her with scalding anger. It also annoyed her no end that she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him whenever she tried to go to sleep.
She could understand that he wanted to protect his sister from unscrupulous suitors, but to suggest Freddie was a rogue seeking to take advantage of Violet, it made her blood boil. But then Freddie had taken the money offered to him to stay away ...
At least it was highly unlikely that she would ever cross paths with the obnoxious man again. For all Violet’s initial enthusiasm about supporting The Women of Whitechapel’s Society, Kate couldn’t imagine that Lord Stanton would let her attend the charity event at Hollystone Hall to lend her support to the cause. The dowager viscountess certainly wouldn’t.
With a heavy sigh, Kate turned over, but despite her exhaustion it was a little while before she began to feel drowsy again. All because visions of a tall, darkly handsome man with steel gray eyes kept entering her mind. If only he hadn’t showed a modicum of concern for her when she’d felt faint. His whole demeanor had changed. It made her wonder if there was another side to him, that a gentler man hid beneath his cold, hard exterior.
That’s enough, Kate Woodville. Go to sleep. What does it matter if he possesses a kinder, caring side? You are a lowly teacher and he is a viscount. Besides, you know you will never see him again ...
What was that terrible pounding? Caught on the hazy edge between being asleep and awake, Kate couldn’t quite work out if the thunderous noise she heard was in her dream, or if it was coming from somewhere else. Then she heard her name called, Miss Woodville.
Kate sat bolt upright in bed. It wasn’t a dream. Someone was indeed knocking on her bedchamber door. And then she heard her name again; it was uttered by a deep male voice, his tone low and urgent. Not Freddie. “Miss Woodville. I know you are in there.”
Panic bolted straight through Kate like lightning, making her pulse race. The fire had burnt low and it was still dark in the room. She had no idea what time it was. Was it the innkeeper? Had something happened to Freddie? Was the inn on fire?
She slipped from the bed and threw a shawl about her shoulders as she approached the door. “Who is it?” she called in a breathless voice.
The knocking stopped. “Anthony Lockhart, Lord Stanton.”
What? Lord Stanton? Why, in God’s name, was he at th
e Black Nag Inn?
She must be dreaming. Kate pinched the tender flesh of her forearm and winced at the sharp pain. No, she was wide awake. “What do you want? It’s the middle of the night,” she called.
“Please open the door, Miss Woodville. I must speak with you.”
“I’m not dressed, Lord Stanton. Come back in ten min—”
“I wouldn’t be knocking on your door at five o’clock in the morning if it wasn’t urgent, Miss Woodville. It concerns your brother. And my sister.”
Oh no ... “Wait a moment.” Kate found her slippers and made sure her shawl was wrapped tightly about her shoulders before she unlocked the door.
Lord Stanton gave a curt nod. “Thank you,” he said, then marched past her into the room, as bold as you please. Wearing only a loose shirt, breeches and top boots, he’d clearly dressed in haste.
Fear spiked Kate’s heart anew. Something very bad must have happened for Lord Stanton to throw established etiquette completely out of the window. She shut the door and crossed her arms over her chest as she regarded him. “What is going on?”
Lord Stanton turned and his face was like thunder. “Your blackguard of a brother has run off with Violet,” he growled.
“You can’t be serious.” Kate’s hand flew to her mouth but judging by Lord Stanton’s dark scowl, he was most certainly serious. Deadly serious. “But how? When? We only arrived last night. We didn’t even know you were staying here ... I presume you are staying here.”
Lord Stanton stepped closer and thrust a crumpled piece of paper at her. “It’s all here. It seems they have been planning an elopement.”
An elopement? Oh, no, Freddie. No. Kate took the paper, but in the dim light of the dying fire it was almost impossible to read.
Dashing Through the Snow: A Regency Christmas Novella Page 4