"Where's Delmere?" Mrs. Wentworth looked around, as if he had to be somewhere in the room.
Hiding behind the curtains perhaps, Anne thought in disgust. "He asked me to remove Miss Wentworth."
"Why would he ask you?"
Anne found herself inspected quizzically. Mrs. Wentworth's eyebrows flew up. "You're his mistress!" She shouted.
"I most certainly am not," Anne said, her own voice rising. Her face heated even more, and her temper bubbled. "I am however, Lord Delmere's friend, and he asked me to remove your daughter."
Belinda's mother had some of her daughter's beauty, Anne thought, her gaze meeting the woman's angry blue eyes. The woman was the picture of outrage, confronting Anne with her hands on her hips, quite as if Anne were somehow in the wrong.
"I thought that Lord Delmere —"
"You were wrong, were you not? Now, Mrs. Wentworth, you will do as I say, at once, otherwise when my footman arrives I'll have him remove both you and Belinda — forcefully."
She paused, and narrowed her gaze. "No — I'll remove you myself." Her temper was about to boil over. She tamped it down.
Then the utter silliness of her position in Delmere's bedroom with two stupid women suddenly struck her. Unconsciously Anne's hands clenched into fists. She advanced on Mrs. Wentworth, who stepped back.
"We won't leave — you shall not force us!"
"You will leave." Anne stopped a mere foot away from Mrs. Wentworth.
"My lady?" A calm male voice asked.
Thomas. Anne turned to him in relief. "Thank heavens. Thomas, you will remove Miss Wentworth from this room. Tuck Lord Delmere's cloak around her."
"Yes, my lady. At once. Ah… His lordship said that I was to ensure that the Wentworth party left immediately — tonight. They're to go down to the house's back entrance. He's called for a carriage to take them to London. He said that their effects would be sent on."
"I must speak with Lord Delmere," Mrs. Wentworth flustered.
"Indeed you will not, ma'am," the housekeeper bustled in. Her grey hair hung in a plait. She'd obviously dressed quickly, but she remained formidable for all that. She curtsied to Anne. "My lady? If you'll allow me —" She turned and beckoned Delmere's own footmen who'd followed her into the bedroom. "The girl — pick her up."
The men's eyes grew large. One put his hand to his face to hide a grin.
The housekeeper pointed at Belinda, then at her mother. "Quickly now. Remove the ladies to their rooms, then straight to the carriage when they've dressed warmly — it's a cold night. Thomas, you'll escort Lady Kingston back to her rooms."
"I'll follow you, Thomas," Anne said, and cleared her throat. She was feeling the aftermath of her upset, and felt a little faint. "I'm not sure I can find my own way."
"Ma'am," Thomas looked concerned. He offered her his arm, and she took it.
She closed her ears to Mrs. Wentworth's ongoing protests, and the loud shriek from Belinda when the footmen advanced to the bed.
The shriek sounded more like delight, than fear, Anne thought.
9
Several days later, Anne and her party were settled at Sommerforth Abbey.
Catherine and Anne were chatting while they worked in Anne's elegant sitting room. The duke had insisted that all Elaine’s sisters — and her mother — have their rooms decorated precisely as they wanted them. He'd ensured that they all felt that they had another home at the Abbey.
Catherine sat at Anne's small desk, working on her accounts, readying them for Elaine.
Elaine had a talent for numbers, and she and Catherine had managed to hide an inheritance that Catherine had received. Grove didn't know of the inheritance — Catherine had received it after her marriage to Major Grove, and hiding it was a challenge.
Although Mrs. Eardley disapproved of the deception, she acknowledged that it was necessary, because the major was both an unrepentant gambler and womanizer.
If Grove ever learned about the estates, Anne thought, he'd plunder them without a thought. Grove spent his life punting on the river Tick. More than once he'd been completely rolled up. Only his commission had saved him from debtor's prison.
Catherine hummed as she worked, her red-gold hair untied. It streamed over her shoulders. When Catherine looked up, Anne realized that her sister was lovely. But Catherine grey-green eyes were sharp with intelligence. Catherine feared no one, and was an expert manipulator — she could manage anyone, and any situation.
"What?" Catherine asked. "Why are you staring at me?"
"I'm merely pleased to see you," Anne smiled. "Can't I look at my sister?"
Anne was seated at the window where the daylight was best, even though the day was overcast. A length of dark blue silk lay in her lap. When she'd completed the delicate embroidery, the silk would become a sleeve of the duke's jacket; part of his new court dress.
Three dozed in her basket in front of the fire. Her legs twitched, and she growled occasionally. No doubt she was dreaming of hunting rabbits.
"Everything is changing," Anne said.
"What do you mean?"
"Elaine and Melly are carrying. It's wonderful, of course… but it makes me feel very old."
"You should marry again. I don't approve of you conducting yourself as a chaperone for Miss Bywater — and to put it to you plainly, Anne, I don't like Miss Bywater at all."
Anne had to laugh at that. Catherine was known for her plain speaking. "Do you not? It shames me to admit it, but I don't like her either. And I know that it's my fault. I'm her elder, I should find some way of gaining her confidence. Something is going on with that young lady and I don't know what it is."
"Do you not, indeed?" Catherine glanced up. She chuckled, her expression arch. "Consider. Whenever ladies, be they old or young, are out of temper, there's usually a man at the bottom of it. There's a man at Rayburn Manor. I'd bet money on it. Find out who the man is, and if he's suitable, there is no reason why you shouldn't marry the girl off."
Anne was immediately struck by the thought. "Do you know, I think that you may be right. Eva has been behaving very oddly. I'll write to her mother later."
"Would you object if I spoke with Miss Bywater — took her in hand a little? Forgive me — but she lacks respect."
Anne winced. "I know. She took a dislike to me as soon as she arrived at Kingston House. I've no idea why… You must speak to her as you see fit, of course." She laughed. "You have my blessing to take her in hand. I've done my best, kitted her out for her season, and I've seen to her education, but beyond that I've had no success at all."
"That tiresome young lady aside — what's this about you and Lord Delmere? Gossip says that Delmere gave you a horse. A very expensive horse."
"Where did you hear that?"
"I hear everything," Catherine said.
Anne knew that it was true. Catherine amused herself by writing for the scandal sheets. She gathered snippets of gossip from all the great houses of London and beyond. Not only did she publish some of the snippets, but she also commissioned illustrations and handbills.
Catherine was clever, and in her own way powerful. She knew everyone, and almost everything about them.
Anne sighed. "He tried to make me a gift of an excellent horse. But I refused it. It would be beyond anything if I were to accept. Besides – I found that I was becoming attached to him… which was beyond the pale. He's sworn that he'd never marry again, and neither will I."
"He'll marry again, as soon as he finds a woman he wants to marry," Catherine said drily. "As for you, I've no idea why you won't marry again. It's years since Kingston passed, so why ever would you not? I admit that I'm prejudiced against the married state – but what would you, when I'm married to Grove? There's no reason you shouldn't marry Delmere — the gift of the horse shows that he's courting you. I've never heard anything against him. He's brave, kind, and very wealthy. You needn't fear that he has an eye to your fortune, since his is so much greater."
Anne's face flamed. "I
can't marry again."
Speculation gleamed in Catherine's gaze. "Very well. I'll ask you directly. Why not? There's something you've never told me, isn't there?"
Anne realized that she might as well tell Catherine. It was a humiliating secret, and she was tired of bearing it alone. Perhaps Catherine could advise her… Tell her what she'd done wrong.
If she couldn't tell Catherine, who could she tell? "All right, I'll tell you. Kingston never –" her face flamed, and she stared down at the carpet. She realized that she was clenching her fists, and opened her hands to rest them on her knees. "Kingston never — he never came to my bedroom."
"Never?"
"He tried — but nothing happened. I wasn't made to be a wife."
Anne had been terrified that Catherine would laugh. She met her sister's grey-green gaze, and was astonished at the kindness there.
"Oh Anne — never say you've been blaming yourself. Of course Kingston blamed you for his impotence, did he not? Men do that. Some men… Nothing is ever their fault. I know that he was ill, so I daresay that that was the cause of it… Stop blaming yourself."
She hadn't considered that. "You think that because —"
"Yes, I do," Catherine said firmly. "You know that when Major Grove and I were first married, I accompanied him on one of his campaigns. I worked with the camp doctor… I learned a lot about men, and their physical challenges. So, my dear — whatever he told you was untrue. It's not your fault, no matter how often he insisted that it was. When men are unmanned, they lash out."
Anne laid away the silk, and brushed moisture from her cheek.
"Did he?" Catherine asked.
"What?"
"He lashed out at you, didn't he?" Catherine asked.
Anne tried to compose herself, but it was useless. She put her face in her hands, and wept.
Catherine laid down her quill, and set aside the account book.
She didn't try to comfort her, and Anne was grateful for that.
"You realize that if you told Delmere this, he —"
"I could never do that!"
Three days later, Catherine found the opportunity she was waiting for.
The Duke of Sommerforth prided himself on his hunt, and in hunting season, three times a week, the hunt gathered at the Abbey. His Christmas house party guests joined the hunt, as did guests from the county, and from London.
After several good runs, Catherine found herself riding across a field with Lord Delmere. She was cold, damp, muddy — and very happy.
She might as well sound him out, she decided. He'd offered Anne a horse, but she needed to assess the state of his mind herself. If she were to encourage him to court her sister, she needed to satisfy herself that he thought as she did.
She rode up to him and nodded. "Lord Delmere."
He bowed from the saddle. "Mrs. Grove — may I tell you that you look enchanting? You're enjoying the day?
They were alone except for the company of his three grooms. "If I might trouble you for a moment?"
He nodded. Although he seemed curious, he made no further comment.
Catherine moved her horse as close to his as she dared. His large hunter stood stolidly, while her mare laid back her ears, and tossed her head. She bent towards him, and spoke quietly. "My sister, Lady Kingston. I heard about the horse you offered her."
She watched him closely, and was delighted to see a touch of pink in his cheeks. "It's said that you won't marry again."
He looked startled. "I –"
"I'm not about to promote any underhanded dealings with my sister you know," she said briskly. She glanced at the grooms, but they were too far away to hear. "If you court Anne, and if she agrees, you must marry her. You can't offer her carte blanche, or whatever else you might think of."
"Mrs Grove — I've had no indication from Lady Kingston that she has any interest in my suit at all… What makes you think that she is in the least interested in me, or in anything that I might have to offer her?"
"She is interested, I assure you. However, her marriage to Kingston was a complete disaster." She hesitated for a moment. She knew that she had to tell him. "The marriage was never consummated."
Whatever he'd been expecting her to say it certainly hadn't been in that. She took great satisfaction in the way his gaze widened and he stared. Gentlemen never stared. Catherine bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from grinning.
She'd been right to tell him, she decided. She only hoped that she could trust him. "Delmere. No one else knows of this. I just learned it myself. And please… not a word to Anne that you know. Anne has a temper — few people are aware of that." She shuddered. "I've no wish to send her into the boughs. She'd never forgive me."
He looked disgruntled at her words. "Mrs. Grove, I would never betray a confidence — of course I won't say a word."
"Good. I would never discuss my sister freely with anyone, but I think that she and you might suit. So… it will be up to you. She has no reason to trust a man, and certainly doesn't want to marry again — she won't willingly put herself in any man's power."
"I see. So you're telling me that I have my work cut out for me."
Catherine nodded.
"Then wish me success, Mrs. Grove." He bowed to her again.
Catherine turned her horse away from his, and rode across the field. What a good morning's work, she thought. Now, she needed to find her own grooms, and change horses.
While she rode, she thought about Anne and Delmere. She had done all she could, she decided. It was up to him. If she knew Anne, she would do all she could to avoid Delmere.
She remembered what Anne had been like when she returned home to Gostwicke Hall a year after Kingston's death. He'd died in a fall from a horse. Anne had had to remain on Kingston's family estate for a year to ensure Kingston's family that she wasn't carrying. Impossible, given the situation, of course. And Anne hadn't said a word.
It had taken another year before Anne was anything like her old self. She'd drifted around the estate, rarely speaking. Mrs. Eardley had been in despair. She'd called doctors to Anne, but they hadn't helped. No wonder, Catherine thought now.
Marriage to Kingston had almost killed Anne. For a moment, Catherine wondered whether she should have spoken to Delmere at all. Then she shook her head. It was too late now. He knew. Either he would avoid Anne completely, or he would court her.
Nick sat his horse and watched Mrs. Grove riding away. She had a forceful personality, and he couldn't help but admire her. He also admitted to himself that he was in love with the lady's sister. How could he not be?
He remembered that he had dismissed his mistress shortly after he had got to know Lady Kingston. He hadn't felt the need to engage anyone else.
But the lady's situation… He had never imagined such a thing. He tried to remember what he'd heard about Lord Kingston. The old lord had been known to his father, but he was too old to be an intimate of Delmere's, or of anyone in his circle of friends.
Lady Kingston was in her mid-twenties. He tried to imagine how she felt. Was she even aware that she had not had a real marriage? Perhaps not. He knew that women didn't speak of such things to other women, and certainly never to men.
He realized that he was uneasy. All the widows with whom he was acquainted knew what they wanted in the bedroom. Anne didn't know. He would have to court her as though she were a young miss.
He rubbed his forehead. He wasn't used to being unsure of himself around women. What if he made a mess of it? He'd been well on the way to doing that already. He should never have offered her Midnight. However, he'd seen her pleasure in the horse, and he hadn't been able to resist it. He'd made her skittish at once.
He had another concern. Baker-Cornhill. Drat the man. He knew that Kelly was interested in Lady Kingston, but if he tried to push his attention on the lady he would call him out. Perhaps it was an overreaction, but he knew that he couldn't countenance a connection between his friend and Lady Kingston.
"M
y lord?"
Nick stared at his groom, who'd stopped his horse a few feet away. He'd been sitting on his own horse without considering the cold. The rain had stopped for the moment but the wind was icy. "Of course. Come, let's get on. We need to find the hunt."
While he rode, Delmere thought about an ally. Could he speak to Sommerforth? Sommerforth had married Elaine Eardley, a younger Eardley sister. Perhaps Sommerforth had some information on Lord Kingston.
Nick shook his head. He couldn't speak to anyone. It would cause talk. He needed to keep his own counsel, and court lady Kingston without seeming to do so.
10
Next morning, Catherine sent her footman, Eric Doyle, to ask Miss Bywater to visit her in her personal sitting room. She knew that the Bywater girl had gone riding with Henry early. She'd be at breakfast now.
Catherine had hired Doyle in Glasgow. He'd come highly recommended from the Duke of Wellington's staff. Indeed, the letter from Wellington had been less of a recommendation than an order to hire the man.
She read the letter, and rolled her eyes. She didn't care about Wellington's political machinations and that Doyle reported to Wellington. Doyle, blond-haired, with sharp blue eyes, was an attractive gentleman, in his thirties, and well-spoken. She doubted that "Doyle" was his name. It was obvious that he was of the gentry, and perhaps, even of the nobility.
Although he was a spy, and no doubt a dangerous man, she nevertheless liked him.
Half an hour later, Doyle returned. He bowed. "Miss Bywater's apologies. She says that she's busy, ma'am — she will see you before dinner."
Catherine chuckled. She'd expected something of the sort. If she knew Anne, she'd been much too kind and gentle with the girl. And here was the result. Little Miss Bywater thought that she could do as she pleased. "Does she indeed? Return to the young lady. Present my compliments, and ask her to see me at once. If she refuses again, tell her that you have orders to pick her up and carry her."
"Ma'am. At once."
What fun, Catherine thought. No wonder Anne had found the girl a challenge. Well, Miss Bywater's days of freedom were over.
The Lady And The Man Of Fortune: A Wicked Secret: The Eardleys Of Gostwicke Hall, Book 3 Page 10