Wynbrook took a seat beside her, gazing at her with a bemused smile. “But my dear, his next target is you.”
Twelve
“Me?” Kate stabbed the pickled egg with a vengeance. “Why would Sir Richard target me?”
Wynbrook cocked his head to the side and gave her a quizzical look. “Can you truly not think of any reason why Sir Richard would pursue you?”
“I harbor nothing for him beyond an extreme dislike, bordering on a strong desire to see him dead.”
“But your dowry, my dear, would be enough to induce almost anyone to overlook these tendencies toward violence.”
Kate dropped her silver fork down on her china plate with a loud clank. “Oh, hell. I forgot about that.”
Wynbrook’s eyebrows rose at her profanity and then lowered to form the smug look she both disliked and admired. “I fear I have upset you and that certainly was not my intent. But with a dowry as large as yours, it can be anticipated that you will have your full share of suitors.”
“Dowry as large as mine?” After the incident with Jane, Kate had forgotten about the unpleasantness of the dowry. Robert had never mentioned any particular amount. “Tell me what you know,” said Kate archly.
A bemused smile played on Wynbrook’s lips. “I fear what I’m going to say may shock you. For the amount of your dowry that is being circulated among gentlemen in the ballroom is fifty thousand pounds.”
“Nonsense!” Kate stared at him, hoping he would break into a smile or do something to suggest his words were some sort of cruel jest. He did not but leaned his elbow on the table in a lazy manner. That was the odd thing about quality—they were rigidly taught all forms of correct behavior, only to act routinely in the opposite manner.
“If you are saying this out of some perverse amusement, I beg you would stop,” said Kate.
“I fear it is only too true. It seems your brother has an interest in marrying you off.”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“You may want to reconsider your murderous inclinations. Think about it, my dear,” said Wynbrook with unruffled calm. “If he were dead, you would inherit all. I must say, that would be even worse.”
“Fine then, but I will make him suffer.”
“A reasonable decision. I did tell him you would be most displeased, and you would find out sooner or later, but apparently he decided not to broach the subject, not that I blame the man.”
“You knew!” Kate stood, towering over him. “You knew how much he set for my dowry but you said nothing.”
“Indeed, if my recollection is correct, I did just inform you.” He rose also and now Kate was in the uncomfortable position of having to look up at him. She liked it better the other way around.
“Why did you not tell my brother that such an amount would make me the object of every fortune hunter in Town?”
“I think that was part of the plan. Your brother asked me what he could do to increase your odds of getting married.”
“My odds? My odds?”
Wynbrook’s smug confidence dissolved and he took a nervous step backward. “Well, that is to say—”
“Are you taking bets on whether or not I will be married?”
“No!”
“Is anyone?”
“Er…no.”
“Would you tell me if there was?”
“Certainly not.”
“The truth. Now!” She advanced, and Wynbrook retreated before her.
His eyes opened wide and he spoke fast. “There is a standing bet at White’s regarding your nuptials, very long odds, which some completely unscrupulous men have taken. Not I. I would never. Please put the knife down.”
“Oh. Right.” She put the knife back on the table. She wasn’t sure when she had grabbed it.
“Perhaps we should evaluate your tendency toward violence.” Wynbrook blotted his forehead with a handkerchief. “I thought you were being facetious.”
“Perhaps you should consider my mental stability before you put a price on my head,” snapped Kate.
“Your brother simply wished to make a connection with you desirable.”
Kate glared at him, and Wynbrook tugged at his waistcoat in a nervous fashion.
“More desirable than you already are,” he amended quickly.
Kate stepped closer, and this time Wynbrook held his ground. The air hummed around them and she felt fully alive. “Well, now that you have helped create this disaster, you can remedy it.”
“I am entirely at your service,” he said in a low tone that rumbled vibrations through her.
She stepped closer. “You need to get me out of this muddle. Either I will be obliged to stay home for the remainder of my life—not an entirely unwelcome idea—or you need to start circulating the rumor that we have lost our money or at least my dowry.”
“You cannot start a rumor of your own poverty without tarnishing your brother with the same brush.” He was being logical again.
“Perhaps we can circulate a story that I am mentally unstable or have the pox. Yes, that’s a capital idea. You can spread a rumor that I am infectious with some sort of tropical disease. That should keep them away.”
“You underestimate the lengths some men will go to restore their fortunes. They would still wish to marry you, then lock you up for being mentally unstable or infectiously febrile.”
“Oh, this is so unfair! I am returning to my initial inclination to do my brother bodily harm and flee to the Continent to live out my days as an expatriate.”
“Before you proceed, could you tell me how his desire to see you married is different from your desire to see him enter wedded bliss?”
Kate ground her teeth. “It is entirely different.”
“How so, exactly?”
“It just is.” She turned to walk away, stopped, and stomped back. “You are the most insufferable man I’ve ever met.” She took a deep breath, trying to get her emotions under better regulation. “I just thought you should know.”
“Duly noted. Though in my defense, I am generally considered good company. You, my dear, are the exception to the rule.”
“Perhaps I know you better than most.”
A slow, seductive smile made her toes curl inside her slippers. “Perhaps you do.”
Alarm bells rang in her head. Was she fighting with the man or flirting with him? Time to flee. She turned without a word and strode toward the ballroom, poised to make her grand exit. She stopped in the arched doorway. “They are waiting for me out there. Aren’t they?”
Wynbrook casually leaned a shoulder against the wall by the door. “Rumor began earlier this evening. I’m sure it has circulated to all interested parties by this time.”
“What will happen when I enter the ballroom?”
“I can think of twenty gentlemen, maybe more, who will vie for your attention.”
Kate sucked in a breath. “That is repugnant.”
“Oh, but it gets worse. They will flatter you, fight with each other, declare their undying love for you, and generally make themselves a nuisance.”
“I’m going to hurt him,” she muttered.
“Who is on your murderous list this time?” asked the amused man beside her.
“My brother. Sir Richard. Every man I meet.”
“You have a busy night ahead of you.”
She gazed at him with cool regard. “Is there another way out of here?”
Wynbrook gave her a lazy smile. “I am well acquainted with the Grant household.” He leaned forward as if to share a deep secret. “We share a tailor.”
“I will give you a stay of execution tonight if you get me out of here without having to walk through that ballroom.”
“I may know how to escape the gauntlet of flirtation, but I want more than a stay of execution. I’m holding out for a complete r
eprieve.”
“Because of you, I’m in this fix. Sorry, but justice must be done. You must answer for your crimes.”
“I suppose I deserve it,” said Wynbrook with a shrug. “But I remain steadfast. Enter the ballroom and expect to emerge with many new friends or find it in your heart to forgive.”
Kate stared out at the dancing couples. She had no desire to be pursued for her generous price tag.
“You might even be forced to dance,” whispered Wynbrook maliciously in her ear.
“Never,” growled Kate through gritted teeth.
“Or I can have you safe in the carriage in five minutes,” continued Wynbrook in a seductive tone.
“You are no gentleman.”
“No, I am a peer of the realm. Nothing could be worse.”
“Finally, something we agree upon.”
“What is your answer, milady?” purred Wynbrook. He knew he had her, the bastard. The right, perfect, handsome bastard.
“Fine. I grant you reprieve from being murdered in your bed tonight.”
“Bed? Tonight?” asked Wynbrook. “On second thought, perhaps I should take my chances. I did not know the bedroom would be the scene of my demise.”
“Too late. You are forgiven. Now get me out of here. Lord Fowler has spotted me and is coming this way.”
Wynbrook bowed, an unforgivably smug smile on his face, and held out his hand. “Come with me.”
Kate didn’t have time to hesitate. She placed her hand in his and he broke into a run, pulling her along with him. She picked up her skirts and smiled despite herself, for she knew this was dreadfully improper, which meant she liked it exceedingly well. He led them to the wall, no window or door in sight.
“Where are you going?” she hissed. “Lord Fowler will enter the dining room at any moment.”
“Here!” He touched the wall, and a door opened, a hidden passage for the servants to bring food to the dining room without walking through the main doorway.
Kate sprang into the dark passageway, heedless of the consequences. Wynbrook jumped in after her and closed the door behind him, leaving them in total darkness. It was only then that Kate decided she had been imprudent in following Wynbrook into whatever mischief he had in mind. Her grasp on appropriate behavior for unmarried females was tenuous at best, but she was reasonably certain she was not supposed to end up in a darkened servants’ passageway with one of the most eligible bachelors in Britain.
For a moment, she wondered if this had been his design; perhaps he numbered among those who wished to trap her into marriage. The thought no sooner flitted into her mind than it flew out. Wynbrook had no need for her funds, as well she knew. He also had no need to entrap anyone into marriage, not the way young women hung on his every word and anything else he might dangle before them.
“I hope shutting me into the pitch-black passage was not the full extent of your plan,” Kate said, whispering in case Lord Fowler was still in the dining room.
“You asked me to remove you from the ballroom and I have done so.”
“I hardly think standing in the servants’ passage of the house is any great improvement.”
“You are particularly difficult to please, my dear.”
“Indeed, I do not like to be hunted like a fox for my wealth, and I further dislike being shut into small spaces in total darkness with men I barely know. What an odd creature am I.”
“But you know me quite well. So you should be happy.” His voice was near, and she could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne—or perhaps it was his own heady scent. She could not see him but she could sense his presence, his warmth. She knew if she were to reach out her hand, she would touch him. She was suddenly glad that it was dark, so he could not see the warmth that spread across her cheeks. It would certainly not do to let him know that he had any effect on her.
“Well then,” she said in her most reserved tone, “since we are such old friends, let us linger here in this musty passageway for a spell. You do take me to the nicest places.”
“Come along, then. I promised to have you in the carriage in five minutes and I’ll show you I can be a man of my word when I put my mind to it.”
“Do not tax yourself overmuch on my account.”
A small sigh escaped his lips, and she smiled in the darkness at the thought that one of her barbs had finally broken through the cool exterior.
“Here, take my hand.” He must have reached out his hand toward her, but of course she couldn’t see it. She stepped forward, reaching out her hands, but instead of finding his fingers, she found him, running smack into his chest. The contact was so unexpected, she jumped and was surprised when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Her hands rested on the silky smooth superfine of his exquisitely cut coat. Beneath the expensive fabric, she could feel the hard physique of his muscular chest.
“Didn’t mean to scare you. Are you all right?” He must have leaned down as he spoke, for his cheek brushed against hers once, twice, and remained there, their cheeks touching in the darkness. He always appeared smooth shaven, but she could feel the beginning of stubble as his cheek brushed against hers.
“Yes, I’m fine. I did not realize you were so close.” She turned her head as she spoke, not away from him but toward him, her lips moving dangerously close to his.
“My fault entirely.” His lips brushed ever so softly against hers as he spoke, his voice low and soft.
“Of course it is.” Her lips brushed against his again. She wasn’t sure if it was his fault or hers or pure accident. But no, this was no accident; this was intentional. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to kiss him the way they had that fateful night so long ago. What was wrong with her?
She took a deep breath and stepped back, out of his embrace, instantly missing the feel of his lips on hers but knowing it was sheer madness. She didn’t even like him. And she knew perfectly well he did not like her. This was just folly brought on by standing in the dark. “We should… The carriage?”
“Yes, of course,” he said in a voice that didn’t sound quite like his. Gone was the smug superiority, the aristocratic hauteur. He began to walk slowly, holding her hand and guiding her down the passage.
What had she got herself into now?
Thirteen
Wynbrook was good to his word and had Kate back into the coach in the appointed time. He sent word they were set to leave, and Robert returned immediately, ready to depart the festivities as soon as may be. He informed them that Tristan planned to stay with friends and return later by his own means.
Of Jane, no one had seen anything.
“I shall go find her. Probably anxious to leave,” said Wynbrook.
Kate nodded, hoping the ball had not been too torturous for Jane.
Wynbrook left the carriage and was gone longer than she expected. She was about to return to the house to see what had become of them when the door to the coach opened and in flew someone she hardly knew.
The person looked like Jane but had a wide smile on her face. This could not be the same morose girl who had been forced to come to the dance, could it?
“Jane?” asked Kate, wondering at the transformation. “Have you taken to drink?”
Jane laughed, a happy, musical sound. “No, but I feel as if I had been, only better. It is a beautiful night, is it not?”
“Looks like snow,” muttered Kate.
“But why must we leave the ball so early?” Jane pouted.
Wynbrook climbed into the carriage and rapped the ceiling with his cane to signal the coachman to take them home. He looked almost as happy as Jane.
Kate stared at him, silently asking for an explanation.
“Jane has met an old friend, Sir Gareth. They have rekindled a friendship,” explained Wynbrook with a grin.
“You seem happy to meet an old friend,” observed Kate.
Jane giggled. “Yes, I am!”
“So you have recovered from Sir Richard,” Kate commented.
Jane paused a moment and said judiciously, “I think I was in awe of him and was honored he chose me of all the ladies vying for his name. But in the end, I was not in love with him. How could I be? No, I do believe I am very much in love with someone else.” Jane beamed at all in the carriage.
Kate thought love must be a very fickle thing if Jane could go from despondent to giddy in a matter of hours. “You are in love with someone else?” Kate repeated.
“Yes, yes, I think I always have been. Why, I mentioned Sir Gareth to you earlier today, didn’t I? You see, he has never left my heart. He was something of a childhood romance, but when we grew up, I thought I needed to find someone more mature, but that was just foolishness! When Miss Rose reintroduced us tonight, I realized what a goose I had been.” Jane laughed, as happy now as she had been sad a few hours earlier.
The coach took its time climbing the steep hill to Wynbrook House in the slick conditions, and when they finally arrived, Kate was more than ready to find her bed, determined not to think more on the baffling nature of love. Instead, they had not been in the house for more than a minute when the knocker sounded urgently.
“Who could that be at this hour?” asked Wynbrook, frowning.
The butler opened the door and Sir Gareth rushed in, red-cheeked from the cold and the urgency of his mission.
“Sir Gareth!” Jane ran forward and caught both his hands in her own.
“Forgive me. Terrible imposition. Couldn’t wait!” Sir Gareth gulped.
“Could not wait for what, exactly?” asked Wynbrook with civility.
“I understand there was some unpleasantness with…er…a previous suitor,” said Sir Gareth carefully. “Miss Rose informed me you had many suitors for your hand and would be choosing one quickly, and, well, I wished it to be me.”
“Sir Gareth, what are you saying?” asked Jane, wide-eyed and breathless.
Gareth looked back and forth between Jane and Wynbrook, as if trying to determine whom he should approach first. “Forgive me, for this is most impetuous, but I lost you once and I could not live with myself if I lost you again.”
If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages) Page 10