A Mistress for Penndrake

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A Mistress for Penndrake Page 23

by Bailey, Tammy L.


  He wanted to make her soar, to fly with each caressing stroke. Only, the moment before her release, he withdrew his hand and whispered close to her ear. “Is this what you want?” He wanted to hear her say the words. To hear she wanted him above anything else.

  Her eyes glazed with desire, she reached for his hand and slid it over her abdomen, lower to where she craved for him to touch her, for him to finish what he’d started.

  He chuckled, the sound deep in his chest. “Impatient, are we?”

  Happy to please her, he lifted above her, planning to drive both of them to a rapturous end together.

  “I love you.”

  Her words rushed through his body like a cleansing rain. He’d started to say them back when a forceful knock sounded on the door.

  “Kate, I know you’re in there,” came an unfamiliar voice.

  “Oh my God. Edward!” she whispered against Wesley’s damp throat.

  Shock and disbelief collided, rendering him immobile for a moment.

  “Edward?” Wesley questioned.

  Kate nodded.

  After the astonishment wore off, his first thought was to have her open it and expose their love, sealing their fate forever. However, he needed to tell her what Edward had in mind for them in the beginning, what he’d had in mind for her.

  At last, sensibility gave into irrational thought. “Kate, look at me.”

  Her frightened gaze shifted to his.

  “I want to marry you. I want you to be my wife. Do you understand?”

  She nodded without smiling, her eyes furrowed together.

  “But it was not always like this.”

  “Damn it, Kate. Open this door before I find the means of opening it myself.”

  She turned toward Edward’s voice, and Wesley brought her gaze back to look at him.

  “Give me your word you will not bolt to the door before I’ve fully explained my actions toward you.”

  “You must go.” Her desperation to keep them secret kicked him hard in the gut.

  “First you say you love me, now you are pushing me away.”

  “My lord, I need some time.”

  Those words were like nails impaling his already injured flesh. Unwilling to plead, and still have her deny him, he pushed up and away from her and walked toward the adjoining room’s door. He supposed he deserved to lose her once she found out the truth.

  “Then, it’s done.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  On shaky knees, Kate rushed to clothe herself before allowing her cousin inside her room. Shock did not come close to describing her reaction to seeing Edward again. He’d left England a boy and returned a man. Taller, broader, older, he stood as one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen, save Lord Wesley.

  “Edward,” she murmured.

  He rushed inside, sweeping her into a passionate embrace. But his eagerness to see her did not last as he inhaled deeply and set her away from him.

  “Tell me it is not too late. Tell me he has not ruined you?”

  The fear in Edward’s blue eyes sank the happiness at seeing him again. She turned away, unable to answer. Unfortunately, her cousin knew her too well. He heard her reply without Kate having to utter a word.

  “Then I will marry you.”

  A coldness washed down her spine at the realization of his decree. She did not love Edward, not in the way a wife should love a husband. She loved Lord Wesley, and she wanted the world to know it. “Edward, please—”

  He turned away, his face red with fury. “No! You will not have affections for the marquess. I will not allow it. He is a despicable, immoral man who does not deserve your love.”

  Angered and insulted, she lashed out. “You know nothing of him, Edward.”

  He closed the little distance between them. “I know I misjudged him. I thought you’d be happy as mistress here, believing he’d marry you if given the alternative to losing Penndrake. However, I was wrong, Kate. I was so very wrong.”

  The air left Kate’s lungs, and she struggled for breath, suffocating under the meaning of her cousin’s words. Losing Penndrake? “What…what are you saying?”

  Edward nodded, his eyes closing as if in severe pain. “You might as well know,” he said, turning away from her and sighing. He found a comfortable spot next to the window, patted the cushion beside him and motioned for her to sit.

  Her legs like water, she did what he wanted and sat down, preparing herself for his confession.

  “Over a year ago, I won Penndrake away from the former marquess. After leaving you, and much debate on what to do, I sent a letter to Lord Wesley offering him a deal.”

  Kate held her breath, her throat becoming unbearably dry. Edward carried on, reaching out to fold her hand in his warm palm. In a low voice, he told her the rest.

  “I had only your best interest at heart. You must know this. I believed you’d be happy here. With the elder gone, I’d give Penndrake back to his son on the promise that he’d make you his wife.”

  Kate lifted a free hand to her mouth, stifling the sob that wanted to tear from her throat. So, this is what Lord Wesley sought to retrieve from her cousin, what he intended to obtain at the expense of her and her family? She wondered if he still wished to keep Penndrake, whether he truthfully loved her or not.

  “No,” she said, muffled and hopeless. Her shoulders quivered until Edward brought her against him. His comfort left her empty and hopeless.

  “Yes.” Edward nodded. “But I didn’t know about the child.”

  Like quicksand, Kate sank even further in her despair. Her voice thick with tears, she was only able to say one word. “Child?”

  Edward nodded. “His bastard son by a lady he neither intended on marrying or providing for.”

  Her heart shattering in disbelief, she turned away, searching for solace but finding none. Although the man Edward described did not sound anything like the man she’d come to know and love, she knew her cousin did not lie.

  “Please go,” she said, her face in her hands, her heart at her feet, bruised, battered, and broken.

  …

  Wesley knew some of the details of Kate and Edward’s reunion—waiting and listening until he could take no more. At least the adjoining room, left unoccupied for selfish purposes, provided him an escape when her sobs became too unbearable.

  A half-hour later and soberly dressed, he rose to meet Mr. Edward Garrett for the first time. Handsome and astute, the man entered the study, unimpressed and prepared. Not surprised he visited Penndrake without first calling, Wesley sauntered to the front of his desk and relaxed against the sturdy frame.

  He exhaled once before Garrett raised his hand and demanded an answer. “What game are you playing, my lord?”

  With thick dark blond hair and flashing blue eyes, Wesley saw the resemblance to his sisters right away.

  “What has Miss Holden told you?”

  Edward recoiled at the question. “Told me? Why she has told me nothing. However, I know my cousin better than anyone, and I say, she is not the same person I left.”

  Torn by respect and anger for the man, Wesley crossed his arms and looked him square in the face. “I wish to marry her.”

  Edward’s stiff white cravat forced his head even higher. “As her relative and a close counsel to the Holdens, I can assure you, you do not have my or their blessings.”

  Wesley expected as much and pretended to know nothing of Kate’s letter regarding her cousin’s sudden change of mind.

  “Is this not what you wanted, Mr. Garrett? For I do recall a proposition I received, not very long ago, by the way, requesting I marry Miss Holden in exchange for the debt my father owed you.”

  Garrett shook his head, anger turning his golden tanned skin to a deep shade of crimson.

  “That’s all changed, but don’t get me wrong, I still do not want Penndrake, it is yours. What I wish, above all else, is for you to never speak to Miss Holden again and at the same time, entrust in her a yearly income of five
hundred pounds a year. If you have ruined her, then I up the amount to one thousand pounds.”

  Surprise and chilling rage lifted Wesley from his casual stance. “She is not a piece of property to be bartered, and I will not stand here while you treat her as such.”

  Edward stepped back as if stunned by his response. “If you haven’t forgotten, my lord, I’m the one holding all the cards, and the rights to Penndrake. What I’m doing is offering to return it to you. Anyone with your inherited problems would be thrilled to take that kind of deal.”

  “I’ve told you what I want.”

  Garrett’s nostrils flared outward on a forced exhale. “Impossible. You have no other choice but to accept my offer. I will expect the money after the wedding.”

  Wesley had to swallow to keep himself from growling. “Whose wedding?”

  “My and Miss Holden’s, of course.”

  That was the final straw. Like the beast Kate titled him, he charged at Edward. “You do not deserve her.”

  Edward smiled, his deity-like features enough to make any female, including Kate, cave to his demands. The gesture halted Wesley in his tracks.

  “Compared to whom, Lord Wesley? You?” He laughed and then smacked the pristine white gloves against the palm of his left hand. “Trust me, I did not wish it like this. Call it fate that I found out your little secret when I did.”

  Wesley shook his head, beginning to tire of the conversation. “Secret? What are you talking about?”

  Edward, himself appearing weary or bored, Wesley knew not which, heaved a heavy sigh. “Your dangerous regard for a lady way beneath your station, a lady you shipped to India in order to have your child.”

  “What?” Wesley stood stunned by Garrett’s words, not even sure if he’d heard the man correctly. Child, Wesley thought, I’ve no such thing. Yes, he may have had many unattached rendezvous in his past, but all of them accepting, and not one he needed to send away. “You talk gibberish.”

  “Do I?”

  While Wesley remained bonded to his spot, Garrett bowed and dismissed himself from the room. Seconds ticked by until Wesley threw an epithet under his breath and stalked to the door, yanking it open with a grunt.

  On the other side, standing with wide eyes and open mouths were Deidra Garrett, Kate, and his mother. Everyone else he’d had dismissed.

  Alongside them stood his steward, Richard Daily, his arms full of an energetic baby with features unmistakably like his.

  “Richard?” Wesley asked as the man took an unsteady step forward.

  “I’m so sorry, my lord.”

  “Sorry for what?” he said aloud, his attention fixed on Kate for an agonizing moment. Her face streaked with tears, he wanted nothing more than to dismiss everyone and hold her.

  “My lord…”

  “What, Richard!”

  Richard, his face blank and unmoving, stretched his hand out to give him a letter. Before the small crowd, Wesley unfolded the parchment and read in silence the two-sentence bombshell.

  It has been determined, by the mother and her parents, that this child is the bastard offspring of the Marquess of Wesley, Earl of Chelmsford.

  Wesley stepped toward his steward, taking the child from his arms. Wesley’s fury faded immediately as he held the boy and his quiet innocence. Eight, nine, perhaps ten months old, he stared wide-eyed and curious, oblivious to the emotional chaos going on around him.

  Beautiful, with shiny black hair and a fine aristocratic nose, Wesley believed him to be a creation of his father’s dishonorable deeds, not his.

  He glanced toward his mother, whose face had gone pale white. Wesley had no doubt she knew who had fathered the child. Tired of seeing her suffer, Wesley vowed to keep the truth buried. He hoped she would, too.

  “The mother, where is she?” Wesley asked Edward.

  “Miss Smith is dead. Childbirth.”

  Wesley sliced a glance toward his mother; the woman’s wrinkled eyes were closed, her thin hands trembling where they lay against her abdomen.

  “So you see,” Edward said, not one ounce of sympathy in his voice. “It is the reason I renounce my proposal. From here, I will take Miss Holden back to Camden. From this day forward, you will never see her again.”

  Garrett, in all his English finery, stepped before Kate, placing a hand upon her pale face. She did not flinch. She did not move. She gazed at him with trusting, wide eyes.

  Wesley’s gut twisted into an agonizing knot, forcing him to glance away. Still, he realized all she stood to gain in marrying Edward—additional wealth, respect, and a man who hadn’t tried to ruin her first.

  Regardless, he still felt the need to remind Edward his plans were not so clear-cut and glimmering.

  “I’m surprised you did not pass my carriage on your way here. They were carrying your mother and two of your sisters, one of whom is preparing for her own wedding to my cousin, Arthur Rourke.”

  Garrett turned, narrowing his ice-blue eyes on him. “What? Now you talk gibberish.”

  Wesley nodded, finding no satisfaction in springing the news on the man. “Your sister Deidra has remained behind with Miss Holden, and both bear witness to why my cousin has proposed to your sister this evening.”

  Wesley watched as Garrett rotated and stalked toward Deidra. Their hushed conversation gave Wesley time to go to Kate. Only the closer he drew to her, the more pessimistic he became of their future together.

  Still, he needed to touch her, to hold her and kiss the tears from her face.

  “Miss Holden, I—”

  “Is what my cousin said…tr-true?”

  He stared at her for a moment. He was so ashamed of what he’d planned against her, all for the love of a place his father loathed enough to gamble away. No matter how much Wesley loved her, cared for her, he didn’t deserve her.

  “Yes,” he said aloud and then turned, leaving her cousin to comfort and marry her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Kate had not left her bed since she returned home to London. One reason being the nefarious yelling and screaming escalating to near nail-biting heights downstairs.

  Upon their arrival from Penndrake, Kate’s poor uncle returned to Camden Hall after a champion fox hunting trip, only to find one of his daughters engaged to a man he’d never met. Needless to say, he disappeared on a fishing excursion with Baron Bloxley soon after the news, their return, indefinite.

  Left delirious and alone, Lady Sophia picked up and temporarily moved her family to London to avoid listening to the appalling gossip of Claire and Arthur’s impending marriage. It was most unfortunate that they moved into Kate’s parents’ modest house, not nearly as large as Penndrake, or as soundproof.

  “You could have married a lord! Instead, you’ve trapped yourself in a marriage with less than a gentleman who has eight children.”

  “Three!” Claire shouted.

  “With your patience and lack of awareness that isn’t anything to do with you, there might as well be sixteen. Now, your future is as dismal as Kate’s ever was!” Lady Sophia shot back.

  A flurry of doors slammed, causing Kate to grab a pillow and pull it hard over her head.

  She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to rush to Lord Wesley and demand an explanation of the truth. It had taken her a few days, but she realized his one-motion answer was in itself, a lie.

  Had he only said yes to keep from losing Penndrake? Her heart splintered at the thought. Still, a tiny sliver believed he cared for her. If only he’d confessed his feelings. If he’d told her he’d loved her then and there, she would have taken some peace with her.

  To make things much worse, Edward tried proposing again, believing she’d changed her mind between leaving Penndrake and returning home. She didn’t answer him, breaking down immediately into a sobbing mess and running away to her bedchamber, where she’d remained ever since.

  As a result, she’d overcome, to some extent, her fear of closed-in places, finding the dismal solace much more bearabl
e than facing her family.

  Regarding Edward, he’d stood by her door for more hours than she cared to count and not once attempted to barge inside. This day, she realized, he’d stayed away altogether.

  Her parents, as well, did little to console her at first after drawing a disastrous conclusion about what may have taken place between her and Lord Wesley. Her brothers returned for a few days to pat her on the head, tap her on the nose, and shake their heads at her wrecked appearance.

  Like strangers, they came and went, their lives already mapped out and well respected.

  Toward dusk, her mother, a less vivacious woman than her sister-in-law, stepped into Kate’s firelit room. Aged and somber, she sauntered forward, her mop cap situated atop her once brilliant strands of mahogany hair.

  “Kate, I’ve been persuaded by your father to retrieve you from here. He wants to see you at once.”

  “Please, Mama—”

  “Kathryn Elizabeth,” Mrs. Holden interrupted on a tired sigh. “If you will not marry Edward, then you will marry Mr. Leisure. You are fortunate that the young man will have you after what he heard regarding that dishonorable libertine, Lord Wesley.”

  Kate jumped up from her spot on the bed, anger, not shame, causing the blood to rush through her veins. She spoke with conviction, forcing her mother to back away and against the closed door. “I have made a lot of mistakes in my life, but they are my mistakes and mine alone. Despite how it may appear, I don’t regret getting to know Lord Wesley.”

  She did, however, regret falling in love with him. To know she’d only been a means to an end, a pawn, pierced her heart and soul until she bled inwardly.

  “Oh, you poor child,” her mother said, trudging forward and patting a cool palm against Kate’s flustered cheek. “You have moondust in your eyes, more so than the last time.”

  Then, with another weary sigh, the woman left, closing the heavy door quietly behind her.

  For the next few days, the Garretts bustled around, preparing for Claire’s wedding. To Kate’s satisfaction, the ceremony drew everyone’s attention away from her. Well, until her father decided it was too scandalous for her to stand in the same place as the man who may or may not have compromised her.

 

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