Stirring Passions

by Maggi Andersen

  "You kept that secret from me at the time, Angelique."

  "It would have been unseemly not to."

  "Some would find it unseemly still."

  She rose quickly to her feet. “Pah! You have become a bore. I go to bed."

  Jason rose and bowed as Angelique left the room with a rustle of lilac silk. He walked to the door, deep in thought, as he watched her slender form mount the stairs. She had come at a deuced bad time. He would find it difficult to keep searching while she was here. And now he would have to keep her safe, as well. Damn! She hadn't answered his question. It was years since he'd invited her to come and take anything she wished back with her. He didn't believe for a moment that he himself was the attraction. His brother's actions had bewildered him at the time. To marry such a girl, then leave her behind in Paris after settling a large sum of money on her, enough to last her lifetime. He had not resented him doing so then, and he did not resent it now. But there was a story behind it he hadn't been privy to. He must take care. She was dangerously bewitching. He would have expected her to remarry before this. What was wrong with French males? Were they blind?

  * * * *

  Kate was bored. She missed Laurie's company but knew things wouldn't change even if he were here. They could no longer ride about the countryside alone together. She had been severely reined in. Expected to act like a young lady and not the hoyden her mother accused her of still being at heart. Her one treat was to travel into the village when a servant went to do some shopping and this she did at every opportunity. These trips weren't to catch a glimpse of Jason, she assured herself, although she did spend an inordinate amount of time wondering how things were going up at the Hall. Would he tell her if he found the document?

  It was on such a trip, when she was alighting from the gig in front of the lending library, Alice Berry rushed up to her. “Have you heard about the lady newly arrived at the Hall?” she asked breathlessly.

  "No, of course not. I never hear a thing out at Roseheath. What lady?"

  "Angelique Broughton-said to be Peter's widow. I saw her in town this morning. My, you should have seen her costume! She is so elegant. I'm willing to bet her clothes come from Paris. After all, she is French. I heard her speak to the haberdasher with a charming accent."

  "I didn't know Peter had a wife."

  "No one did. It's caused a lot of gossip. I wouldn't be surprised if she has come to marry Lord Broughton."

  Kate had felt better when she was bored. This was entirely more excitement than she needed. “What nonsense. Why would they suddenly up and marry?"

  "If you saw her, Kate, you'd understand. She is very beautiful."

  "Very?"

  "Indeed yes. Her figure is wonderful and her hair is pure gold and her skin...."

  "Oh, for heavens sake, Alice, do stop prattling on so,” Kate said crossly.

  Alice paused in her discourse, her mouth open. It was most unusual for her good-natured friend to speak to her so. Surprise changed to a knowing look when she arrived at what clearly must be the right answer. “Why, you are in love with Lord Broughton!” she gasped.

  "Don't be an idiot. How could I be? He is years older than I am."

  "Fiddlesticks! He's thirty and most attractive."

  "Stop looking at me like that. I am not in love with him and that's that."

  Alice became concerned. “It would be better if you were not, Kate. I wouldn't want to see your heart broken. I must say, we have all been expecting you to marry Laurie."

  "I don't know why. I've told you a hundred times, Alice. I'm not in love with Laurie. As you persist in being most annoying, I'm going home!"

  As Alice stood staring after her, Kate took herself off, feeling decidedly flat. She wasn't in love with Jason. She found him interesting, that was all. She certainly meant little to him, merely an unlikely participant in the web of intrigue that surrounded him. She had to admit that when Jason responded to her like a father it had cut at her like a knife. She sighed. It was becoming very hard of late to decipher her emotions. Her despairing aunt had told her that she seemed to care nothing for the art of flirting. Perhaps she should seek to acquire it. And now this Angelique had come to stay at the Hall. A charming woman, and beautiful by all accounts. There was no way she could hope to compete, even if she should wish to.

  I must get away, she thought. But where? She took off her bonnet and ran her hands through her hair, so deep in thought, she remained unaware she had turned it into a bird's nest. She certainly couldn't return to her aunt. She had wiped her hands of Kate. But wait! Laurie's family had invited her to stay in London with them. Her mother had told them Kate was in the doldrums since her stay there ended so abruptly. She'd been going to decline the offer, not wanting to leave here with the mystery of Broughton Hall still filling her head, but now....

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  Chapter Seven

  The coachman carried Kate's bags into the front hall of the Firth's town house, a five story red brick, just east of the park near Grosvenor Square.

  "Lord and Lady Firth are away from home until this evening,” the housekeeper, Mrs. Glasscot informed her. “I'll have your things taken up and you might like to wash before luncheon. It will be served shortly in the dining room."

  Kate came down to find one place set at the long dining table. She felt rather forlorn and strange sitting alone and only managed a spoonful or two of the mushroom soup and merely picked at her baked egg. After lunch, she pulled on her pelisse and bonnet and descended the steps to the street, having asked directions to the library. It was on the other side of Oxford Street, near Cavendish Square. Walking would take far too long. She had a little money that her father had given her. She decided to hire a cab. She knew only too well that wandering around London on your own was not done but, as there was no one at home to assist her, she would manage.

  Everything seemed to go smoothly. The cab stopped when she hailed it and deposited her in front of the London Lending Library. Kate walked in, inhaling the musty smell of old books with a strong sense of purpose. She went straight to the lady working at the counter. “Excuse me, I wonder if you could direct me to the books on the English Peerage?"

  After flicking through a very heavy, dusty tome on the subject, Kate found him. Sir Harold Austerely was a Member of Parliament. His London address was Curzon Street, and he had a country estate in Oxfordshire.

  Kate began to plan her next move. She had a vague idea about finding something incriminating about Sir Harold that would stop him in his dangerous quest. First, she must meet him and that might prove to be difficult. There was nothing for it. She needed Laurie's help. When he returned from Cambridge the next day, she would tell him the whole story.

  When she arrived back at Grosvenor Square, she found Lady Firth waiting. “My dear girl, I'm so sorry I wasn't here to greet you. A charity luncheon kept me far too long. I came home to find you'd gone out. Not on your own, I hope, Katherine."

  "I went to the library, Lady Firth,” Kate said.

  "Oh, well that's an admirable choice, but you can't go about unaccompanied in London, my dear. Your reputation will certainly suffer and you might be accosted."

  Kate wondered which event would alarm Lady Firth more.

  When she finally was able to tell Laurie of her plan, his reaction was not in the least what Kate expected. “You are not to get involved in this, Kat,” he said firmly, a stormy expression on his face. She had been so glad to see him and now she felt quite cross. They sat in the drawing room by the fire, the warm, spring weather having disappeared. A chill wind had begun to blow and dark clouds almost turned the day into night. “You have told Lord Broughton what you overheard and he's ordered you to stay out of it and that you will do."

  He was starting to sound like a husband. And was beginning to look like one, too. For the first time, Kate noticed the new moustache sprouting on his upper lip. She opened her mouth to comment on it, and then closed it. This new Laurie would not apprecia
te her opinion on such a matter. It would also be a tactical mistake, she acknowledged, putting him in a bad humour. She'd always been able to bend him to her will. She was confident given a little time she could do so again.

  "Are you glad your studies at Cambridge are behind you?” she asked, feeling a change of subject was needed.

  Laurie's mulish look abated. “Damned glad. Oh sorry, Kat-have to keep reminding myself, you and I are grown up now. On a different footing so to speak."

  Kate swallowed a retort. “What are your plans?"

  "I'm to start work immediately at the foreign office. I'll be in London for the rest of the year."

  "Oh. And then where?” she asked in a small voice.

  "Paris."

  "Paris!” Kate suppressed feelings of envy. “That will be wonderful for you, Laurie. I'm so pleased."

  Laurie took her hand. “Come with me as my wife,” he said passionately.

  Kate shook her hand out of his grasp. “You mustn't, Laurie. Your mother and father asked me here as a friend. They would be shocked at your impropriety."

  Laurie looked at her quizzically. “You don't think they know my feelings for you, Kat?"

  "Do they know mine?"

  Laurie frowned. “I think they have a pretty good idea. Anyway, you just made up my mind for me, Kat. I need to be a married man when I travel to Paris. I plan to ask for Sally Poole's hand before then."

  A cold hand reached in and clutched at Kate's heart. Was it just because she didn't want their friendship to end? She wished her emotions hadn't become so befuddled. “That's ... wonderful. I couldn't wish for a better wife for you, Laurie."

  Laurie moved closer. “Give me a congratulatory kiss then, Kat."

  Nonplussed, Kate glanced at the door. There was no one around. She put a hand on his shoulder. It felt strong, manly and strange. Laurie's hand stole around her waist and pulled her firmly against him. His lips crushed hers in a much more accomplished kiss. She felt his hard body against hers and was horrified to find she wanted more, much more. She pulled herself free and gasped. “You've been practicing!” When did he begin to use that citrus-scented cologne?

  Laurie grinned, looking more like the old Laurie she knew. “That's none of your affair and it's not a very pretty reply."

  Kate pushed away from him and jumped to her feet. “So you won't help me find out about Sir Harold Austerely. I'm disappointed in you, Laurie. You've become a ... a damned rake!"

  Laurie stood and looked down at her. He was smiling but there was hurt in his eyes. Kate had scored a hit, but it did not make her feel good at all. “It's quite easy to find Sir Harold, Kat. He's my Godfather. A man held in very high esteem."

  She sucked in her breath. “Your Godfather? I didn't know."

  "I can think no ill of him. You must have got the story wrong. Will you leave things alone now?"

  "I don't see how I can, Laurie."

  "Then you'll do it on your own."

  Kate watched him stride from the room. Why couldn't she leave it be? Her best friend in all the world had asked it of her. Tears filled her eyes and she wiped them angrily away.

  * * * *

  As Kate's plans wavered, fate took a hand. At her very first social engagement since returning to London-a dance at Almacks-Lord Firth introduced her to Sir Harold Austerely.

  He was a powerfully built, silver-haired gentleman, dressed impeccably and conservatively. He bowed low over her hand.

  "This pretty young lady is a neighbor of ours from the country,” said Lord Firth. “She has as good as grown up with Laurence."

  "Delighted to meet you, Miss Kilgarth.” Sir Harold's green eyes held a flicker of interest that lacked the paternal warmth of Lord Firth's. “May I have the pleasure of the next dance?"

  The Country Dance afforded Kate time to ask a few discreet questions of Sir Harold. He informed her that he was a widower and bluntly told her he was casting about for a bride. He disliked living alone. It had proved surprisingly difficult to find a woman suitable to stand at his side in society, as his beloved wife had done. “I find younger women are more easily instructed into new ways, Miss Kilgarth."

  Kate smiled so much her face began to feel stiff. She looked across at Laurie dancing with Sally. After a warning glance in her direction that spoke volumes, he had turned his attention to Sally and was certainly charming her if Sally's face was anything to go by. Kate felt slightly miffed by it and rather lonely, but she straightened her shoulders and continued her flirtatious conversation with Sir Harold, who had became a trifle flushed and asked her for the next waltz.

  During the waltz, Sir Harold's hands felt rather sweaty and gripped hers meaningfully. He looked deeply into her eyes as they danced. As he escorted her back to her chair, he asked if he might call on her at Grosvenor Square very soon. Kate felt exhilarated by her success-she was sure she would soon learn something that would be of interest to Jason-but she was also uneasy. Sir Harold's interest in her was a little too intense. He seemed to devour her with his eyes. She wished she'd had more experience with men. She knew Laurie would be very angry and disappointed in her when Sir Harold called at Grosvenor Square. It was something she found hard to bear, but she thrust the thought away.

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  Chapter Eight

  An invitation followed shortly after Kate's first trip to Almacks for the family to attend a small party at Sir Harold's London home. Kate felt excited. Here was her chance. When the opportunity arose, she planned to slip away and search Sir Harold's private papers. She was sure something would come to light.

  She chose the white silk evening gown trimmed with rosebuds and pastel pink underdress. The one her mother thought suited her best of all.

  Laurie had been laying in wait for her. He grabbed her as she left her room and dragged her into a dark corner of the upper landing.

  "What are you doing,” she asked crossly, smoothing her gown.

  "I don't know what you are planning in that head of yours, but be very careful tonight, Kat."

  "I'm sure I don't know what you have in your head, my Lord,” Kate said, pulling free and flouncing off down the stairs. Laurie really was becoming quite a bore. He hadn't even noticed her new gown or complimented her on how well she looked.

  Sir Harold's town house was an elegantly furnished establishment. Sir Harold took her arm to lead her into dinner and placed her to his right at the head of the table. Wine was served with the Turbot and quail dishes. Lord Firth complimented him on his fine cellar as French Champagne accompanied the syllabub. After dinner, they played card games in the drawing room. Kate played one game of piquet with Laurie. She was impatient to investigate Sir Harold's study, so she let him win. As it was she who always won this surprised Laurie.

  His surprise turned to suspicion when she rose from the table, begging to be excused.

  "Where are you going, Kat?” he asked loudly.

  Kate unfurled her fan and looked at him askance as his mother came to her rescue. “Really, Laurence, I thought we taught you better manners than that. You never ask a lady such a thing,” she said. “Please let Katherine go. Come and sit with me and talk to Lady Forrester."

  Laurie glowered at Kate as his mother led him away. Kate chose that moment to slip from the room. She had glanced in every room when they'd arrived and surmised that Sir Harold's study must be on the floor above. There was no one about as she climbed the stairs. The first room she came to made her gasp in surprise. It was Sir Harold's bedroom. On the wall above the bed was an enormous crest of ostrich feathers from which purple silk drapes cascaded. Kate gazed at it spellbound, then quickly fled through a door beside the monstrous bed. This was quite obviously a gentleman's study. A large desk and leather chair sat at one end. Running over to it, Kate saw with dismay that the desktop was covered in reams of paper. She looked back at the door then began quickly searching through. She didn't know what she should be looking for. Most were government business, and tradesman's bills. Nothing lea
pt out at her. Surely, Sir Harold would not leave anything suspicious out for the servants to see, she thought despondently. She opened the drawers of the desk and gasped. Inside one was an evil looking pistol, and a set of keys. Above the fireplace at the far end of the room hung a painting in a heavy, gilt frame. It was a depiction of Judith, holding Holofernes bloody head in her hands. Both repelled and fascinated, Kate was drawn to it, and when she moved closer, she found a wooden safe hidden behind a screen. She was sure one of the keys in the drawer would fit it, but it was too late to do anything about it now. She had been gone too long and her absence would soon be noticed. She left the study and walked across the bedroom, just as Sir Harold appeared at the door.

  "I didn't expect to find such an adornment in my bedroom, Miss Kilgarth,” he said, quickly crossing the room.

  "I came in search of a mirror, Sir Harold,” Kate answered. “My curls needed attention.” She attempted to go around him.

  He placed a hand on her arm, halting her progress. “You are a perfect angel. You have no need of mirrors, Katherine.” His voice was husky and far too close to her ear. It sent a shiver running up her spine.

  "There you are, Kat. You've been an age and you did promise me another game of cards before we left.” Laurie stood in the doorway. Kate had never been so glad to see him.

  The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. Mercifully, Laurie didn't have an opportunity to lecture her. Kate felt relieved, but by the time she retired to bed, her mind was spinning from trying to find a way to return and open the safe.

  She had just placed her head on the pillow when the bedroom door opened. A figure stood highlighted by the candlelight flickering in the hall.

  "Kat, are you awake?"

  "For goodness sake, Laurie. You'll get us into the worst trouble,” she said. “Come in and shut the door."

  As he closed the door behind him, the room became too dark to see. She felt him sit beside her on the bed. “I'd better not light the candle,” he said in a whisper. His breath feathered her hair. “What were you up to, tonight?"