If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages)

by Amanda Forester

  “Come in,” she called, staring out the window. The low clouds and permanent smoky haze gave London a dusky appearance. “This is a horrible place,” she muttered. “We should not have come here.”

  “Are you—”

  “I am fine,” Kate said over him, knowing what her brother would ask. “It was just another dream of the accident. More of the same revue. I had so much enjoyment living it once, it is a delight to revisit it in my dreams.” She allowed the sarcasm to drip from her tone.

  “The one thing I still do not understand is why the bridge did not collapse when we traveled over it,” she continued. “Why Lord and Lady Wynbrook but not us?”

  Six years ago, when Tristan had invited them to spend the holidays with his family, they had traveled from London to Arlington Hall in two coaches. The first, carrying herself, Robert, and the three eldest Arlington siblings—Anne, John, and Tristan—had passed over the frozen bridge without incident. But the second coach, carrying Lord and Lady Wynbrook along with the younger daughters, had crashed through to the frozen river below.

  “Why did our coach pass in safety but not theirs?” she asked again. “Did we miss a warning sign that the bridge would collapse? Could we have rescued them faster?”

  Robert had been the one to take command on that horrible day, barking orders to the coachmen to cut the horses free to keep them from dragging the coach farther into the frozen river. He was also the first to plunge into the water to rescue the occupants of the coach, followed by John and Tristan and then herself. She well remembered the frigid sting of the icy water. They were able to get everyone out, but it was too late for Lord and Lady Wynbrook.

  Kate swallowed a lump in her throat, wishing she could forget how Tristan had cradled his mother’s body and sobbed, how Jane had screamed in pain, or how John had sat on the cold, wet ground, overcome with shock.

  “I have asked myself that same question.”

  Kate whirled around at the unexpected voice and stared at John Arlington, the current Lord Wynbrook.

  “You are not my brother.” It was an obvious statement but all she could think to say.

  “True. I was helping Ellen to her room and I heard you call out. I…I thought I should assist if there was a problem.” Wynbrook stood tall and formal in her bedroom. Her bedroom!

  “Why did you not announce yourself at once? Why let me go on?” Kate demanded.

  “Yes, that would have been proper,” Wynbrook hedged, looking appropriately contrite. “I do apologize, but…but no one ever speaks of the day my parents died. Jane and Ellen were so injured, they thankfully remember very little, and Tristan never speaks of it.”

  “I wish I could forget.”

  Wynbrook nodded slowly. “Everything changed that day. Everything.” Wynbrook’s voice was soft. On that horrible day he had become the Earl of Wynbrook. It was not how anyone had imagined his succession would occur.

  Kate struggled to think of what to say. Should she offer condolences? Should she demand he leave her room?

  “I am sorry that day invades your dreams.” Wynbrook moved a little closer.

  Kate shook her head. “I am sorry it happened at all. I cannot help but think we were bad luck to you.”

  Wynbrook took a few more steps forward. “No, we are indebted to you and Dare. Without your help, I do not know what would have happened.”

  “It was not enough.” She turned to the window, a lump forming in her throat.

  Wynbrook stepped up to the window beside her. “You followed us into the frozen river and pulled Ellen from the coach.”

  “But her injuries were so grievous…”

  “She is alive because of you.” Wynbrook placed his hand on hers. Heat spread up her arm and flushed through her at his touch. She should have jerked her hand away, but she did not. Instead, her eyes met his.

  A quick rap on the door caused Wynbrook to jump back in a guilty manner. Lady Jane poked her head into the room. “Hallo, Kate. Ellen and I were wondering if you wanted to join us for…tea.” Her eyes widened when she noticed her brother standing beside Kate. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, of course. Just assisting with the window.” Wynbrook closed the sash in a businesslike manner. “There, now. I doubt it will bother you again.” With a brisk smile, he marched from the room.

  “Well!” said Jane. “He is certainly being helpful. He never helped me with my window.”

  “Did you mention tea?” asked Kate, hoping to change the subject.

  “Oh, yes, we usually have it in Ellen’s room, if you do not mind. It is difficult for her to move around a lot.” Lady Jane gave her a smile. She was dressed in white with a blue sash at the high waist. She had nondescript dark blond hair and a face that was more classically handsome than pretty.

  “Yes, of course.” Kate followed Jane into Ellen’s room.

  Seated at a small round table by a tall window, Lady Ellen was bathed in the yellow afternoon light. A tea service was on the table along with those delicate little sandwiches that were the favorite of elegant ladies. Ellen smiled brightly at Kate’s entrance. The bright and happy scene was so unlike her nightmares, Kate had to blink twice at the unexpected sight.

  She had anticipated Ellen would live in a perpetual state of mourning for her lost legs, but instead, Ellen wore a pale lilac day dress with lace and ruffles. She had a quick smile and a cheerful disposition. Kate did not know what to make of it. Hardships should be mitigated by becoming even more pessimistic, so no tragedy could ever make you more miserable than you already were. By expecting the absolute worst out of life, Kate was immune to the sting of disappointment, for she lived it every day.

  “I hope Robert and I are not imposing,” said Kate, accepting a chair.

  “No, not at all. I have often wished to see you, for the last time we met…” Was the day of the accident. Lady Ellen busied herself with the tea. “Cream and sugar?”

  “Black,” answered Kate. She accepted the teacup and felt she must say something and not continue to avoid the subject. “I never got a chance to tell you both how sorry I was…I am, for the accident,” said Kate in a hushed tone.

  “Thank you, but it was so many years ago. I fear it must have ruined your holiday,” said Ellen.

  “Ruined our holiday?” exclaimed Kate, almost spitting her tea. She stared at Ellen in disbelief. “We ruined everything for you! I wish so many times I could do it over and not have gone with you. We are bad luck. If we had not gone with you, maybe you would have taken only one carriage and perhaps the accident would never have occurred.”

  “Bad luck? Sheer nonsense!” Ellen clasped Kate’s hand. “I remember nothing from the accident, but I understand you helped save my life. So thank you. Also, we would never have taken just one coach out of Town, so please stop blaming yourself in this absurd manner. Now have some more tea.” Ellen refreshed Kate’s cup.

  “But your legs… I fear when I pulled you free from the coach I damaged them further. Your loss may have been my fault.” Kate spoke the self-recrimination that had gnawed on her soul for the past six years.

  “Kate! You saved my life. I don’t have my feet, but I have a good life, a good family, and a good deal of amusement most of the time. I refuse to let you feel sorry for me or to blame yourself in any way.” Ellen spoke crisply, in the manner of her older sister but with a wide smile that was all her own.

  “How can you maintain such a happy attitude given everything that happened?” Kate’s question was sincere.

  “How can I not have a pleasant attitude? My disposition is entirely something of my own creation. Besides, I believe the good Lord can use all things—even this—for my good.”

  Kate shook her head, disbelieving.

  “I have met many a person with all their arms and legs who are utterly miserable,” continued Ellen. “Having two legs does not assure happiness, and
losing your legs does not make you unhappy unless you let it. And I shall not let it. There now! Enough of such sad recollections. Have a scone.”

  Kate took the offering and nibbled obligingly, a bit dazed by how quickly Ellen had tossed aside the guilt that had plagued her. “Thank you.”

  Ellen gave her a quick nod and abruptly changed the subject. “We have written to Lady Manderlay about her ball tomorrow to see if she would extend the invitation—”

  “A ball?” Kate gripped her teacup so hard the whites of her knuckles showed. Remembering the horrors of the past was one thing; a society ball was a nightmare on a whole different level.

  “Yes, and the good news is that she has invited you and your brother.” Jane beamed at Kate, oblivious to her distress.

  “No.” It was the only thing Kate could think of to say.

  “It is really just a rout party. It will be a good way to introduce you and your brother,” Ellen explained.

  “I do not attend balls.” Ever.

  “But you must come,” protested Jane. “I can introduce you to Sir Richard.” Jane smiled at the mention of her betrothed.

  “But…but I have no ball gown,” said Kate, relieved to have found a way out.

  “I could lend you one of mine,” said Jane kindly.

  Kate shook her head. “Wouldn’t fit.” She was right. Jane was shorter and had a more rounded figure than Kate.

  Jane was stymied, but only for a moment. “Surely, you must have a gown of some other color than black.”

  “White,” admitted Kate. She had no colors in her wardrobe, preferring a drab palette.

  Jane’s face relaxed back into a smile. “White muslin is acceptable for young ladies. Besides, it’s only Lady Manderlay’s rout party. It will be a crush, and everyone will want to meet you. John will be there, you know.”

  Kate stiffened at the mention of Wynbrook. “That is hardly relevant.”

  “When I knocked on Kate’s door, what do you think I found?” Jane addressed Ellen. “It was John, helping her with the window sash!”

  “Truly?” Ellen’s eyebrows raised in a manner that suggested she was taking more interest than Kate would like.

  “It was simply a problem with the window. Wynbrook was passing by, heard the difficulty, and offered to help.” Kate tried to quell any further speculation.

  Ellen and Jane looked at each other and made humming noises with knowing grins. “John is quite the matrimonial catch,” said Ellen, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

  “Rubbish,” said Kate. She disliked the direction the conversation had taken.

  “But it’s true,” protested Jane, who had a tendency toward earnest literalness. “Ask anyone and they’ll tell you, the Earl of Wynbrook is one of the most prized matrimonial catches in all of Britain. Any hostess would consider it an honor to have him at their party. He has good conversation, he is generally amiable, and he does not stand about, thinking himself above his company but is always ready to dance.”

  “And to all these fine qualities add that he’s titled, handsome, and rich, and you will understand why many society mamas think it is a travesty he is unwed,” said Ellen with a glint in her eye.

  Kate tried to look bored yet was never more interested in a conversation. “I am surprised that he has held out so long.”

  “I think he does not wish to eclipse my wedding with an announcement of his own, though once I am wed, I expect we will not have to wait much longer,” explained Jane.

  “Has he chosen a bride, or will he simply grab whomever is closest at hand when the time comes?” asked Kate, realizing it never occurred to her that he could have an understanding with a young lady.

  “If the rumor is true,” said Jane, leaning forward in a conspiratorial manner, “Lady Devine is expecting an offer for her niece shortly.”

  Oh.

  Wynbrook was to be married.

  To someone else.

  “Excellent. I am glad he is accounted for,” said Kate, trying not to sound as disingenuous as she felt.

  “When you go to the party tomorrow, maybe you will meet her,” said Jane, oblivious to any concern.

  “You go with Robert,” suggested Kate. A party would be a good way to introduce Robert to young women. “I would rather stay home with Ellen.”

  “And I would rather go to the party,” returned Ellen.

  “So why not go?”

  “And sit in my rolling chair on the side of the room to be an object of pity? No, thank you. You go and enjoy your amusements and tell me all about it. Truly, it would mean a lot to me if you would.” Ellen gave her a hopeful smile.

  Kate was trapped into the invitation now. Short of faking illness, Kate could not avoid the event. Besides, a ball would be a good way to introduce Robert to eligible young ladies. The sooner he found a bride, the sooner they could leave London.

  Kate sighed in defeat.

  * * *

  Wynbrook retreated to his study and looked over some prospectuses Mr. Ashton had prepared for him regarding his investments. Despite being a reclusive man, Mr. Ashton had proven himself to be quite valuable. When Wynbrook’s father died, he had been shocked to learn his estate was not doing as well as he’d thought. Fortunately, Darington had recommended his cousin and solicitor, Mr. Ashton, who had set things to rights. The investment into Darington’s ventures had paid back handsomely too.

  “The girls have managed to secure an invitation for Darington and Kate to Lady Manderlay’s party tomorrow night.” Tristan strolled in the room, his mouth, as always, turned in something of a smirk, as if laughing at a private joke.

  Whatever Tristan found humorous in that turn of events, Wynbrook did not. “So soon?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Of course they must enter society, but I so wished to clothe them first. Something must be done.”

  “Nothing we can do.” Wynbrook was less concerned about their attire and more concerned about their finances. He had no concept how much it had cost to free the children of Fleet. Had they run themselves to ground with their charity? “Perhaps they have spent their fortune on other expenses.”

  “Not likely! Kate never wasted a farthing in all her life. She has the golden touch, to be sure, though you wouldn’t know it to look at her.”

  “Are you certain they are flush? I witnessed a significant act of charity by them.”

  “The only time they are generous is when they are giving it away,” commented Tristan. “But I am certain they have not gone down the hatches. Not in their nature. Hoarders of gold, they are. Which reminds me, must ask Dare about Kate.”

  “What about Kate?” asked Wynbrook with a sense he might not wish to know.

  “Why, the amount of her dowry, of course. Already got some inquiries about her.”

  Wynbrook frowned. “What sort of inquiries?”

  “Word has gotten out that Dare and his sister are plump in the pocket. Men will come ’round, make no mistake.”

  No, this would never do. “I wonder at your interference.”

  “And I wonder at your interest. You spent time with Lady Kate and returned to tell the tale, which already puts you ahead of most men. Shall I put out there that the lady is spoken for?”

  “No, not at all!” cried Wynbrook. At Tristan’s smug grin, Wynbrook realized he had risen to easy bait.

  “Very well. I shall be sure to let everyone know she is firmly on the marriage market.” Tristan smirked.

  “You will do as you wish. I learned early that nothing can curb your tongue.”

  Tristan clutched at his chest. “Ah, a direct hit!”

  Wynbrook cleared his throat. “Given your wild chatter, I suppose we shall have to ensure that she is protected from fortune hunters.”

  Tristan nodded, grim in expression but with dancing eyes. “Oh, yes, the only thing we can do.”

&nbs
p; “Well, I shall join you tomorrow night if I am able.” Wynbrook rustled the papers on his desk in a random manner he hoped looked important. A glance at his brother told him the ruse was fooling no one.

  “You have a good evening.” Tristan gave a mock salute and left Wynbrook to glower at the door.

  Wynbrook would join them tomorrow and prove to himself and Tristan and everyone else that he did not care for Kate in any meaningful way. He would be charming, flirtatious, his normal self…and he would protect Lady Kate from the scheming machinations of fortune hunters and any other man who tried to get close.

  It was his responsibility since she was staying under his roof and, thus, was under his protection. It was simply his duty, nothing more.

  Nothing more.

  Seven

  Seven for a secret never to be told

  The next night, Kate was escorted by Tristan, Jane, and Robert into a large home in a fashionable part of Town. Her heart beat in her throat and her hands were balled at her sides, ready to do battle, though she knew that was not how the members of polite society wounded. No, they cut with words and destroyed with a turn of their heads. This was not a type of warfare she or Robert knew how to wage.

  Kate wore a white muslin gown she had made herself, and though well-fitting and serviceable, she was keenly aware it was considerably less fashionable than the gowns of the other ladies present. The house was furnished in such an opulent style it made Kate shake her head at the elaborate waste.

  “Gaudy taste. So gauche,” whispered Tristan, and then raised his voice. “Oh my dear Lady Manderlay, allow me to introduce my friends!”

  Introductions were made repeatedly as Kate and Robert were made acquainted to one after another of Tristan’s friends. Jane disappeared with some of her friends to look for her betrothed. Kate’s interest, however, was on scanning the room in search of a certain person. Perhaps Wynbrook would not come. The thought was not as reassuring as she’d expected.

  She knew the moment he entered the hall. Wynbrook was a tall man, superbly dressed in a dark blue double-breasted coat, cut to perfection over his broad shoulders. His cravat and collar were snowy white, his waistcoat a golden brocade, and the crowd seemed to part before him. His eyes met hers and a slow smile spread across his lips. Her stomach fluttered in an odd way, and she was not sure if he was having some dastardly effect on her or if the evening’s fish hadn’t agreed with her.