If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages)

Home > Romance > If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages) > Page 9
If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages) Page 9

by Amanda Forester


  Kate gave a reluctant nod.

  “If an engagement is dissolved, it can lead to disagreeable rumors that the lady was found wanting,” explained Wynbrook.

  “But that is unfair!”

  “Indeed. Engagements are almost as difficult as marriages to dissolve. Fortunately, we had not yet signed the marriage contract; if we had, it would have been even more difficult.”

  “True.” Kate sighed.

  “You are familiar with marital law?”

  “Yes, of course. No lady should enter marriage without a good lawyer.”

  John thought she may be jesting, but Kate’s face was deadly serious.

  “The marriage contract ensures that the lady has some protection; otherwise, all assets she brings to the marriage belong to her husband,” continued Kate in a businesslike manner. “For example, a contract might stipulate the lady’s dowry must be held in trust until any children arising from the marriage have gained majority. The marriage contract may also stipulate how much per annum she would be granted in case of her husband’s death. Without a contract, a lady enters into the marriage quite unprotected.”

  “Precisely. If the contract had been signed, we would have had to go to court to have the thing undone. It would have been a nightmare of a scandal, and Sir Richard may have walked away with much of her dowry, for the court would not see his infidelity as reason to sever the contract.”

  Kate shook her head. “Of course, if it had been Sir Richard who had found Jane to be unfaithful prior to their nuptials…”

  Wynbrook shook his head. “That would be a different matter entirely. I agree—these things are not fair.”

  “A woman should never feel trapped into marriage,” Kate challenged.

  “Of course not,” Wynbrook agreed, though he wondered if she was still speaking of his sister.

  “In truth, I do not see why any lady would wish to enter the marital state at all, since it seems only to her detriment. A lady is an equal to a gentleman in every respect, save for sometimes they have more sense.”

  Wynbrook was spared the trouble of responding by the timely entrance of Tristan and Robert, whom he had never been more grateful to see.

  “Come, join me and my bluestocking friend for tea,” John announced with the wide smile of a man who’d escaped the executioner.

  Tristan and Robert joined them, and Robert helped himself to a liberal number of scones. Tristan, for his part, was positively giddy.

  “What kind of waistcoat are you wearing?” Kate asked Tristan, surprising everyone at the table by commenting on fashion. Wynbrook took a glance and was shocked himself at what he saw. The waistcoat was made of simple homespun fabric.

  “The latest fashion!” declared Tristan with a grin. “Gave up trying to make you and Dare fashionable by putting you in decent clothing. Decided instead to make homespun the newest thing.”

  Kate stared at him. “You can do that?”

  “You watch me.” Tristan grinned at her like a cat with a mouse under its paw. “And I spread the word that Sir Richard’s cravat, which I never did like, is an abysmal failure. I now call any fashion flop a ‘Sir Richard’!”

  * * *

  “Wynbrook House. Why did it have to be Wynbrook House?” muttered Silas Bones, his feet freezing in the slush of the London streets. He was careful to remain in the shadows outside of light cast by the gaslight.

  “Don’t like the house, Cap’n?” asked his second, a wiry man with a stocking cap pulled low over his brow.

  “Went to Eaton with John Arlington, and now look at me, trying to break into his house. There’s irony for you,” said Silas in the urbane tone of a London gentleman. It would have been more effective had he not been casing a house to rob it.

  “So you want we should leave?” asked the man in a hopeful tone. He would not complain to return to the warmth of the local pub.

  “No. It just makes it harder is all. Darington has gotten rich off of me, and I must reclaim it.” The shame of being forced to steal from the home of an old schoolmate was utterly Darington’s fault. The man had taken not only his fortune, but his self-respect as well…and for that, Darington would pay.

  “Watch the house while I get the others,” Silas commanded. “I want to know when they come and when they go. I cannot afford to be seen.”

  “B-but it’s cold out here!” complained the thin man.

  Silas turned slowly back to the man and glared at him, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

  The man changed his tune. “Watch the house. Aye, Captain.”

  Silas stalked away, his anger growing with every frozen step. This was all Darington’s fault. Whatever it took, Darington’s riches would be his.

  Eleven

  Kate was counting the days until her opportunity to leave the presence of Lord Wynbrook. She decided the best approach to her confusing feelings was to push them far beneath her conscious awareness and hope they would never surface again. So far, it had been a losing battle, for which she blamed Wynbrook entirely.

  After her last disastrous ball, Kate was surprised when her hosts invited her to another one. She retreated to her room and considered faking a megrim. A knock on her door caused her heart to flutter. Perhaps it was Wynbrook?

  Kate shook her head at her own nonsense. Of course it was not Wynbrook. “Enter!” she called, trying to gather her wits.

  Her brother stalked through the door and gave her a dark look. “Not another ball,” grumbled Robert.

  “You were the one who wanted to stay here,” Kate shot back at her brother.

  “Hardly thought that meant my presence at…at…”

  “A Christmas party?”

  “Yes! That.”

  “If you could find a bride quicker, we could avoid any more of these social events once we leave Wynbrook House.”

  “That is your best argument for the married state yet,” Robert commented dryly.

  “I don’t suppose,” said Kate with sudden insight, “that you might be interested in Jane? They are feeling pressured into marrying her off quickly, and you already know her, so you would not have to form a new acquaintance.”

  “I already considered the idea, but she would not have me,” said Robert with a sigh.

  “She turned you down? Why?” Kate was outraged on her brother’s behalf. He was worth a thousand Sir Richards at least.

  “She thanked me for the offer but said something about how she wished to marry someone who was in love with her.”

  “Odd notion.”

  “Quite.”

  “What has love to do with marriage?” asked Kate.

  Robert shrugged and retreated out the door. “Need to dress,” he muttered, escaping the befuddling topic of the human heart.

  A few hours later, Kate clutched her brother’s sleeve as they entered the holiday ball of Mr. and Mrs. Grant alongside Wynbrook, Tristan, and Jane. Her tight grip had more to do with dragging in her brother than seeking comfort for herself. Kate thought there could be none more uncomfortable in a ballroom than Robert, but Jane was giving him a run for his money.

  Anne had demanded that Jane dry her eyes and make an appearance to stave off the gossips, making Jane more miserable than ever. The matchmaker, through written instructions, had agreed with Anne and insisted Jane return to society at once to show she was not bereft (which she was) and that she was still as lively as ever (which she wasn’t).

  “What is he doing here?” Jane gasped, holding on to Kate’s other arm with a tenacious grip and staring at the unwanted form of Sir Richard. It was indeed unfortunate that the first public appearance Jane had made since the dissolution of her engagement was also attended by the one man she least wished to see.

  “I don’t know, but I hope to remedy it soon,” Wynbrook growled and stalked off in Sir Richard’s direction. The two disappeared i
nto a private corner, and after a few tense minutes, both emerged still alive, which Kate thought was more than Richard deserved.

  “What can he be about?” asked Jane in a fearful whisper. “Do you think he has threatened to sue?”

  “He would be very foolish if he did, since he has already accepted payment and signed a contract agreeing the engagement is terminated by mutual consent,” said Kate. “Do not worry yourself over it, but let’s go speak to Wynbrook and find out what that man is about.”

  She feared releasing her brother’s arm would result in his disappearance, so she dragged him along. Accordingly, they walked arm in arm across the ballroom, to where Wynbrook was leaning against the wall near a potted palm, a bemused look upon his face.

  “Dear brother!” said Jane, rushing forward. “What did Sir Richard say to you?”

  “Has he threatened to sue?” asked Kate.

  “No. It appears we will be rid of him with very little trouble,” said Wynbrook. “Seems our dear Sir Richard has recognized his behavior was repugnant and will withdraw himself from the engagement without further discomfiture.”

  The ladies stared at him at this unexpected turn of events.

  “But why this sudden change of heart?” asked Jane. “Can he honestly be trying to improve himself?”

  “If I had to hazard a guess,” drawled Wynbrook in a seductive manner Kate found simultaneously insufferable and appealing, “I believe our dear Sir Richard has found a new potential victim for his matrimonial pursuits.”

  “So you think Sir Richard wants to make peace so he can attempt to secure an engagement with some other poor soul?” asked Kate.

  “Yes, though if I know our Sir Richard, the soul in question would not be poor at all,” observed Wynbrook with a twinkle in his eye.

  “He is the most despicable fortune hunter and should be publicly called out for his reprehensible behavior,” declared Kate.

  “Oh no. Pray, do not even think of doing anything of the sort.” Jane clutched her arm once more.

  “Jane is right, I fear,” said Wynbrook, his face sobering into something of a frown “As much as I would like to make Sir Richard’s life as miserable as possible, there is no way to do so without including Jane in his shame. Unfortunately, we must pretend that everything ended amicably so that Jane may find a more worthy groom as quickly as possible.”

  “But what about Sir Richard’s next victim? Should not she and her family be warned of his treacherous fortune-hunting proclivities?” Kate protested.

  “We shall have to keep an eye on him, so as to protect innocents from falling into his snare. If we know of any particular attention between him and another young lady, I can quietly go to her brother or father and put an end to the affair.”

  “I suppose that is the best we can do,” agreed Kate reluctantly. “But I certainly feel sorry for his next victim.”

  More people entered the ballroom. Clearly this was a popular event. It was too many people in one place for her liking.

  “This is the first event for the newly minted Mrs. Grant,” explained Wynbrook. “Looks like a crush. She’ll be well pleased.”

  Kate could not fathom how anyone would prefer to be jostled all night in a crowded room when they could be sitting peacefully by the fire reading a good book. She glanced up at her brother, who was so tense she feared he was frozen in place. The ballroom was no place for Dare.

  “Ah, here is Marchford. Allow me to make the introductions!” exclaimed Wynbrook, oblivious to their misery.

  The Duke of Marchford was an imposing man of dark features and aloof manner. On his arm was a plainly dressed lady in a simple white muslin gown. She was introduced as Miss Penelope Rose, the companion of the Dowager Duchess of Marchford, who, for some unknown reason, was going about the ballroom on the arm of the duke.

  “Darington has just returned from years at sea, commanding the Lady Kate. Came back plumper in the pocket than he left,” said Wynbrook with a smile.

  “You served in the Royal Navy?” asked Miss Rose politely. She had plain features, but her brown eyes sparkled with intelligence.

  “Yes” was Robert’s monosyllabic reply. Kate was impressed he got that much out.

  “Admirable,” commented Marchford, joining the conversation with his own brief reply.

  “And will you begin a London season this year?” Miss Rose asked Kate.

  A season? Voluntarily put herself out to market like a plucked chicken on display, hoping to go to the highest bidder? Was the woman daft? “No. I do not wish to enter society, and I certainly do not wish to be married. You will excuse me.”

  Kate turned on her heel and left. She hoped to find some small corner in which to hide until the travesty of the ball was over. Kate was useless at a ball. She did not dance. She did not gamble. She did not gossip. Hence, there was nothing for her to do.

  Jane was asked to dance by successive young gentlemen Kate suspected to be Tristan’s friends doing him a favor. It was supposed to make Jane appear happy and admired. Nothing, however, could remove the tinge of sorrow in Jane’s eye.

  Wynbrook naturally asked Kate to dance, and she had naturally refused. Thus, there was nothing for her to do but sit in the corner with the matrons and watch the cheerful, dancing couples float by.

  Now she understood why Ellen did not wish to attend balls. There was nothing more depressing than watching other people be happy in a manner that would forever be elusive to her. She would never admit it, but it was not without a certain twinge of jealousy that she watched some of the other maidens fly as if their slippers had wings across the dance floor, expertly flirting with their utterly bewitched gentlemen companions. Their faces were bright and cheery, their conversation witty, their gowns light and shimmery, and they moved easily through the ball to the delight and admiration of all.

  Kate, on the other hand, felt like a discarded lump of coal—unwanted, unnoticed, and without purpose in this room designed for the brightest ornaments of London society. The sooner her brother could find a bride and they could leave Town, the better.

  After sitting alone for a while, she got up to walk in the general direction of the refreshments. She chose her time carefully after most of the others had finished their meals and returned to the ballroom, for she did not wish to be part of the chattering masses as they went to dine. She found the buffet table rather picked over, but still there was enough for a healthy supper. She found a plate and selected some bread, slices of roast beef, and a pickled egg.

  She shifted her plate from one hand to the other to reach for some roasted potatoes when someone unexpectedly grabbed the plate from her hand. She turned with a start, and it was a good thing that the plate had been taken from her; otherwise, she certainly would have dropped it.

  Before her was the smiling face of Sir Richard.

  “My dear lady Kate,” he said with a disarming smile. “Please allow me to assist you.”

  Kate snatched back her plate, heedless of the potato that rolled to the floor. “I do not know what you are playing at, Sir Richard, but take yourself and your games elsewhere.”

  “I deserve that, of course,” said Sir Richard in a disarming tone. “I have not earned your society. I am most heartily ashamed of myself for my actions the other night and I am resolved to do my utmost to redeem my character in your eyes.”

  “I wish you would do nothing of the sort. If you are interested in redemption, I suggest you take yourself to a clergyman.”

  Kate turned to leave, but Sir Richard seemed unwilling to allow her to go. He swung around, blocking her exit. Short of pushing past him, which was difficult to do while holding a plate of roast beef and pickled egg, she saw she would be forced to hear whatever ridiculous thing came out of his mouth.

  “I deserve that, indeed I do,” said Sir Richard most contritely. If nothing else, the man was a good actor. She had wondere
d at Jane falling for such a man but could see for herself that he was an expert in deception.

  “I only hope that you will allow me the opportunity to raise your estimation of me,” continued Richard. “It is clear to me now that Lady Jane, while an excellent young lady, was not the one for me. What I need is a lady of firm character and decided moral fortitude. I am certain that if I surround myself with such admirable qualities, my character can only benefit.”

  Kate was unmoved. “Begone with you.”

  So far Sir Richard had kept his face a model of placid obsequiousness, but a flicker of irritation flashed across his features before his appeasing countenance returned. She had a strong notion he was seething beneath his polished charm. “I must insist that you allow me the honor of dining with you this evening, Lady Katherine. For truly, you should not be alone in the dining room.”

  “No indeed, she should not be alone, for who knows what company might appear to annoy her.” The Earl of Wynbrook strolled into the dining room. Never had Kate been happier to see him.

  Wynbrook’s voice was calm and held his famous lazy drawl, but beneath his half-closed lids were steely eyes of firm determination. He may play the part of the bored aristocrat, but clearly he was not a man to back down from a fight.

  Sir Richard took a step back, his brows furrowing at the unwelcome addition of Wynbrook. “I am glad to see that you are not unprotected here, Lady Katherine.”

  “No, indeed, so you may now feel free to return yourself to the ballroom with all haste.” She watched with no little satisfaction as Sir Richard finally retreated from the dining room. “Thank you, Wynbrook. Your arrival is most welcome.”

  “I saw him going into the dining room and I feared that he had cornered his latest victim.”

  Tired of holding the plate before her, Kate walked a few steps to an empty table and sat down, accepting Wynbrook’s assistance, though she was perfectly capable of doing the task herself. “Too bad I was the only one here. I wonder why he felt it necessary to irritate me so.”

 

‹ Prev