“Yes?” prompted Jane. Everyone in the foyer was silent, waiting for his response.
Gareth sank to one knee. “Lady Jane Arlington, will you marry me?”
“Yes!” shouted Wynbrook, drowning out anything that Jane might have said.
Jane and Gareth were too busy sealing their engagement with a kiss to notice. Wynbrook, Kate, and Robert stepped back from the happy couple and pretended not to be aware of their obvious affection.
“That matchmaker was quite dear but worth every shilling,” confided Wynbrook to Kate, well pleased with himself.
“And who is this matchmaker?” asked Kate.
“Ah, nobody knows. ’Tis the mysterious Madam X!” Wynbrook was enjoying himself a little too much.
“The contact is the Dowager Duchess of Marchford and her companion, Miss Penelope Rose,” answered Robert, willing to add to the conversation when it turned to something factual.
“How would you know that?” asked Kate, suspicious.
“He asked me so he could engage her on your behalf,” said Wynbrook with a teasing smirk. He was certainly in a blasted good mood.
Kate spun to confront her brother, but he had wisely sounded the retreat and was halfway up the stairs.
“You did not inform me that not only had my brother set my dowry at a ridiculous amount, but had also contacted a matchmaker!” hissed Kate, stepping close to Wynbrook to accuse him without disturbing the revoltingly happy couple before them.
“You must think me mad,” whispered Wynbrook, leaning in close with a devious grin. “You already wished to put an end to my existence. Why would I give you more reason to do so?”
“I will thank you to stay out of my affairs!”
“Affairs?” He spoke the word slowly, softly into her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
Kate opened her fan with a snap. When had it gotten so hot? Jane and Gareth continued to kiss their pleasure with their new arrangement. Wynbrook was so close. She was drawn once more by his unique, intoxicating scent. All she wanted to do was turn toward him, wrap her arms around his neck, stand on her tiptoes, and…
Kate fanned herself furiously. “Should you not put a stop to that?”
“Hey there!” called Wynbrook to the amorous Jane and Gareth. “Save a little for the wedding night.”
Now her thoughts turned to what happened on a wedding night. Kate spun around without another word, picked up her skirts, and ran up the stairs.
* * *
Christmas was the perfect excuse. Two days after the Grant ball, Wynbrook was ready to spring his plan into action. He crouched down and spied through the crack in the door connecting the library with the drawing room. For the past two days, he had been careful to avoid Kate, recognizing he had gotten too close, but that had not stopped the conspiracy already underway. Once the crisis with Jane had been resolved, the family had turned its attention to their guests. Darington and his sister must be clothed.
After several clandestine meetings with the family, a plan had been devised. Wynbrook did not exactly approve of his current methods, spying through the crack of the door, but there was no way he was going to miss this.
“I have a present for you.” Tristan entered the drawing room where Kate and Darington were enjoying a quiet winter afternoon. Actually, it was more than quiet; it was dead silent. Did Dare and Kate communicate telepathically, since they were twins? Never had he seen two people more reticent.
Tristan held up a hatbox. He had been nominated to present the offerings since he could get away with more than most. Besides, if Kate realized Wynbrook was behind the gifts, she would never accept them.
“I have no need for a hat,” said Kate, returning to her book.
“It’s not for you,” Tristan said with a smug look and handed the box to Darington.
Dare opened the box and pulled out a sharp blue bonnet. “Not sure what to say.” He turned the lady’s headgear around to study it from all angles.
“Say nothing yet. There’s more!” Tristan beamed at the twins as no fewer than four deliverymen entered the room, carrying boxes of various shapes and sizes.
Dare opened a box and stood to hold up a pristine white gown. “I’m rather backward when it comes to fashion, but I doubt it will fit.”
Wynbrook had to suppress a laugh. Dare did have a dry wit.
“Try this instead,” said Tristan with a sly grin. He handed him another box and inside Darington found a dark blue dinner jacket. Without a word, Dare shrugged off the one he wore and pulled on the new one. It was perfect. Their tailor, who they kept a great secret, was an absolute wizard to so finely cut a coat without formally measuring the man.
“We cannot accept such gifts,” said Kate, rising, her light eyes glinting. She was beautiful when irritated, which, given her temperament, meant Wynbrook had ample opportunity to admire her beauty.
“So sorry. I have no gifts for you,” said Tristan with a dazzling smile. “These all are for Dare. Merry Christmas, old man!”
“Christmas?” asked Dare.
“Yes, Christmas. Now, don’t tell me you don’t know it’s Christmas Eve.”
Dare and his sister looked blankly at Tristan.
“Yule log? Mistletoe? Holly and ivy?” Tristan pointed around the room at the tasteful decorations for the season.
Dare and Kate looked around as if noting the decor for the first time. Wynbrook shook his head. What life of deprivation had these two led?
“Christmas!” cried Tristan, utterly outraged. “They must have Christmas even in Gibraltar.”
“Yes, we attended church,” said Kate.
“Yes, very good. But the presents! What about the presents? And the feast!”
More blank looks.
“It is a good thing my mother is already in her grave, or she would drop dead at the two of you!” exclaimed Tristan. “Here now, let us begin to make up for lost time.” He shoved another box into Dare’s hands.
“Don’t know as I can accept all these. Must have cost quite a bit of blunt,” said Dare.
“’Course it did! I ain’t cheap, you know! But fortunately, I invested wisely and can well afford it.” Tristan winked at Kate.
Dare tried to hand the box back, but Tristan refused. “You are new to this, so I will try not to take offense, but it is a great insult to refuse a gift!”
“But—”
“But nothing! You have given me far more than anything I could ever repay. Please, please, let me see you dressed as you should be. I beg you! It would be a great gift to me, you know. Ah, the time! Must dash. We are all engaged for the Devine Christmas gala tonight. They light up a tree, you know!” Tristan flew from the room, leaving the two of them in the room filled with boxes.
Wynbrook held his breath, waiting to see if they would accept their gifts. Everyone knew Kate had a morbid addiction to thrift, but would she accept a gift?
Dare moved about a bit in his new jacket. “Bit tighter than I’m used to. Guess I’ll get used to it.”
“You are not considering keeping these things. They must go back!” demanded Kate.
“You heard Tristan. He’d be insulted. Besides, I like it. You would look nice in this.” Dare handed her the gown.
“Tristan said they were all for you.”
“Not my size.”
Kate shook her head.
“Kate,” said her brother softly, causing Wynbrook to lean forward, trying to catch his words. Wynbrook really should go. If Kate caught him, she might strangle him with the ribbons of her new bonnet, but he could not tear himself away. He needed to see if she would accept it. Besides, one of his legs seemed to be falling asleep from maintaining the uncomfortable crouch too long.
“Tristan and his family have been exceedingly kind. Must not cause embarrassment by wearing work clothes to their fancy goings-on.” Dare gather
ed up several parcels and left her with the new gown in her hands.
Kate took a deep breath and held the gown up as if weighing its worth. It was one that Wynbrook had particularly chosen for her, and he leaned forward further to gauge her reaction. It was a simple gown, expertly crafted of fine ivory silk. It was designed with clean lines and an overdress of exquisite lace, giving it a fine appearance of understated elegance. Jane and Anne had wished for ribbons and flounces, but Wynbrook vetoed the suggestion, insisting Kate’s gowns be consistent with her taste: simple and without frills or fuss.
Kate moved toward the window and Wynbrook shifted position again to see her through the crack in the door. He started to lose his balance, overcorrected, and fell down on his backside.
He tried to scramble up, but pins and needles shot through his right leg and he flopped down once more with a thud. Kate was going to kill him! He dove behind his desk, hoping he would not be spotted. Eavesdropping on the interchange had sounded like a much better idea when he had not thought he was going to be caught.
The door burst open, and Wynbrook froze, hiding under his own desk like a child. What was the matter with him?
“Hello?” asked Kate.
He said nothing. How could he explain crouching under his desk? He listened carefully but he heard nothing. Finally, the door creaked shut again.
With a sigh, he dragged himself to his feet only to find himself face-to-face with an irritated Lady Katherine. Her eyes flashed, but this time it filled him with dread.
“Ah, there’s my quill,” he said, trying desperately to cover the awkward moment. “Hullo, Kate. Didn’t see you.”
“You!” she accused. “You were spying on me.”
“Me?” When in doubt, deny, deny, deny.
“Explain yourself! Why were you spying on me?”
“An excellent question. When I have an answer, I’ll be sure to let you know,” said Wynbrook, repeating her words when he’d caught her in his study.
“Go ahead. I’ll wait.” Kate folded her arms across her chest.
“I seem to think I have had this conversation before.”
The faintest of smiles flitted across her face. “It does seem vaguely familiar.”
“I’ll forget about the study if you forget about this.”
“Deal!” She turned and stalked out of the room, pausing in the doorway. “And thank you,” she said in a voice so faint he could hardly hear.
“My pleasure,” he responded, because truly, it was.
Fourteen
She was out of excuses. Kate had always maintained that her reason for not buying expensive clothing was to avoid the cost. Truth was, that was only part of it. She wore her plain gowns because it kept people away. It gave her distance. She knew she was not skilled in social arts, so she simply avoided playing the game.
Wynbrook offered an arm to escort her into the Devine Christmas gala. Her feelings toward him were so convoluted, she did not know what to think. She was glad for the presence of Jane, Tristan, and her brother—the first two at least kept up the conversation.
Kate held on to her wool coat with a firm grip. Footmen were coming to take people’s wraps, but she did not wish to give hers up. Her black gown had been her armor. Her plain white gown had made her invisible. The new gown she wore now made her feel naked.
The footman held out a hand, and she paused. Could she get away with wearing her coat all night? She took a deep breath. This was no time for cowardice. It was just a gown, nothing more. It was Christmas Eve, and despite the fact that Christmas had never been much of a holiday to her, she could give Tristan this gift of wearing something he appreciated.
With a brisk tug, she handed over the coat. She glanced down at her silk ball gown, sparkling with a shimmering overdress of exquisite lace that gleamed in the candlelight. Truth was, she liked the gown.
She could not help but glance at Wynbrook. If he laughed at her, she would feign sickness and go home. Was it too late to consider the ague?
Wynbrook was all smiles, greeting people and escorting her with the utmost chivalry. He glanced at her and did a double take, turning to her and staring, openmouthed.
Alarmed, she put a hand over her chest. “Is there something wrong?”
“No! No, you look…you look lovely. Quite lovely.”
“Thank you.” She could breathe again, but Wynbrook appeared to be having some difficulty with the task, coughing and clearing his throat.
Despite his current breathing troubles, Wynbrook always cut a fine figure. He wore a dark green tailcoat and a gleaming silver waistcoat, which, as always, showcased his broad shoulders and trim waist. The green of the coat brought out the green of his eyes, and they sparkled at her with amusement and not a small measure of mischief.
He escorted her into the main ballroom, and she paused a moment to take in the splendor of the room. Glass icicles hung down from the chandeliers with small candles inside, lighting the wondrous crystal. Fresh holly was festively displayed, with red velvet ribbons tied around the bundles. Most impressive was the tree—a huge evergreen prominently located and lit with hundreds of candles and trimmed with red bows. The effect was enchanting if slightly frightening, but most dangerous of all were the numerous sprays of mistletoe hanging in different locations, waiting to catch unsuspecting guests in romantic encounters.
“I thought this talk of lighting a tree inside the house was all a hum,” she admitted.
“Apparently, this is a Germanic tradition. Comes from her side of the family,” said Wynbrook. “I think Tristan and his set only come each year to see if something will catch on fire.”
“Does that happen?”
“Occasionally.”
Kate scanned the room, looking for potential hazards of open flame and hanging mistletoe, not sure which would be worse.
“Let us greet our hosts.” Wynbrook directed her to the reception line, and they were duly introduced to Lord and Lady Devine, and their niece, Miss Frances. Kate’s heart felt a bit squeezed as she was introduced to Miss Frances, the girl Wynbrook’s sisters predicted him to wed.
“Ah, Wynbrook, so glad you could make it to our little festive soiree.” Lady Devine beamed at him. “Of course you are familiar with our precious niece.”
“Yes, of course, how are you this evening?” Wynbrook gave Miss Frances a bow.
Frances was a cherub-faced girl, just emerging from the nursery into society. She giggled and returned the bow with a curtsy of her own. Instantly, Kate knew Frances would simply not do as a bride for Wynbrook. The girl was too young and too pretty.
“My niece is ever so fond of dancing,” hinted Lady Devine.
“Then she must save me the first dance!” cried Wynbrook. As if on cue, the orchestra began to warm up their instruments, and Wynbrook offered his other arm to the young Miss Frances.
Kate had to bite her lip to prevent herself from voicing protest.
“I do beg your pardon, Lady Kate,” Wynbrook said to her. “But I am well aware of your abhorrence to dance.”
“Yes, indeed,” she said and snatched back her hand from his arm.
She watched from the shadows of the ballroom as Wynbrook and Frances stepped into the flickering candlelight in the middle of the room to await the beginning of the dance. Kate had to remind herself that she did not care in the least that Wynbrook was dancing with another lady. Of course he would dance with other ladies. He could dance with every lady present, and she wouldn’t care a whit.
“Do they not make a handsome couple?” asked Jane.
“The handsomest I ever saw,” said Kate through gritted teeth.
“I do expect them to announce soon after our wedding.”
“I wish you both many felicitations,” said Kate, almost choking on the words.
Sir Gareth walked toward them with a wide smile. Jane returned it, beaming
at him.
“Gareth, you are well met this evening,” said Jane with a becoming pink blush and a girlish giggle.
Kate felt free to roll her eyes, for no one was paying her any heed. “The music is about to begin. Why do not the two of you dance?”
Sir Gareth glanced over at her as if startled to see her there. His eyes were only for Jane.
“I should not like to leave you by yourself,” said Jane, hesitating.
Kate realized that her brother and Tristan had long since abandoned them—Tristan with his friends, and Robert no doubt to find somewhere to hide. “Go on, I—”
“All right then!” Jane and Gareth joined the dance floor before Kate had finished her sentence.
“I am accustomed to being alone,” Kate finished to no one in particular. Kate watched for a moment, wondering what it would be like to be in love as Jane and Gareth so clearly were. Of course, that would never happen to her. No, she had lost the chance of happiness long ago.
Wynbrook and Miss Frances spun into view and she watched them dance effortlessly across the floor, swirling with the other beautiful elite of society. An emptiness echoed within her heart. She had never been more certain she had no place in this life.
Across the dance floor, Kate spied the person of Miss Rose, the companion to the Dowager Duchess of Marchford and the contact for the notorious matchmaker, Madam X. Yet as Kate considered the matter, it was Miss Rose who had reintroduced Jane and Sir Gareth and Miss Rose whose comment had induced Sir Gareth to spontaneously propose.
This was no innocent intermediary. Kate highly suspected Miss Rose of being the infamous Madam X herself. Kate needed to put an end to any thoughts of matchmaking. Putting herself on the marriage market would only end in humiliation. Kate would have none of it.
Keeping to the edges of the ballroom, Kate made her way toward the suspected matchmaker. Miss Rose had worn a simple frock the last time Kate had met her, but this evening, much like herself, Miss Rose had been transformed by wearing a lovely emerald ball gown. Kate wondered if Rose’s people had similarly disapproved of her wardrobe.
If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages) Page 11