If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages)

by Amanda Forester

  “I understand my brother has contacted you regarding my matrimonial prospects,” said Kate, bluntly initiating the conversation.

  “Perhaps we should find a quiet corner? I believe the balcony boasts a fine view of Town,” suggested Miss Rose with the raise of an eyebrow.

  “I am agreed.”

  Miss Rose led Kate to a side balcony. It was not snowing at the moment, but the snow on the ground lightened the entire view of the streets before them. Though the chill air was refreshing after the heat of the crowded ballroom, it was soon going to be uncomfortably cold.

  “Your brother did make an inquiry with Madame X to find you a suitable match,” began Miss Rose in her calm, direct manner.

  “I do not mean any offense, but I have absolutely no inclination to marry. In truth, I am quite set against it,” said Kate.

  “Is there something in the institution that offends you?” She did not appear at all surprised at Kate’s declaration against marriage.

  “The prospect of handing over my money, my future, my very freedom to a man of any sort makes me ill. No, I shall never marry; on this fact, I am entirely resigned.”

  “I shall relay your feelings to Madame X,” said Miss Rose, the picture of serenity.

  “I thought you were Madame X.” In truth, Kate was sure of it. The more she considered the matter, it was clear Miss Rose was responsible for bringing Sir Gareth and Jane together.

  “Whyever would you think such a thing?” Miss Rose did look surprised this time.

  Kate shrugged. She had no need to unmask Miss Rose as Madam X; she simply wished to stop her matchmaking interference. “Truly, it makes no difference to me. Either you are Madam X or you are in her employ; either way, I would like to redirect your efforts.”

  “In what way?”

  “I have no need or inclination to wed, but my brother must marry. He has a title and no other living family to take his place. If he dies, the title dies with him.”

  “I see. So you would like Madame X to find your brother a wife instead of you a husband.”

  “Yes. I am glad you are of a quick understanding.”

  “Any particular guidelines in terms of the type of young lady who would be best suited for your brother?”

  Kate considered the question. She decided to invent something that would not only help Robert find a bride, but also demonstrate to Miss Rose that Kate herself was not a candidate for matrimony. “She must be of a serious nature, not vibrant or chatty. She must be able to bear children, though I suppose it may be difficult to determine this beforehand. Perhaps a young widow with children, though Robert would not care to have children underfoot, particularly if they were not his. Perhaps a lady who had conceived children but they had died, but not from illness; we do not need sickly brats.”

  Miss Rose blanched, a reaction that had nothing to do with the outside chill. “So the perfect wife for your brother would be a silent, serious woman who had not only lost her husband but her children as well?”

  “Yes! Perfect!” Kate smiled to herself. That should keep the matchmaker away.

  After a weighty pause, Miss Rose said, “I shall pass this on, but you must understand, there may not be many young widows whose children have also passed away.”

  “Yes, well, tell Madame X to do her best. If you cannot find these characteristics, just go for someone pretty. But no one who will speak insistently, I beg you, or I may be forced to cut out her tongue myself.” Kate was only half jesting with this comment.

  “Perhaps we should return to the party so we do not freeze,” suggested Miss Rose, her grim face telling Kate that her mission to redirect the matchmaker away from herself had been successful. Kate smiled at the retreating form of Miss Rose. If that hadn’t scared her off, nothing would.

  It was the end of the set and Jane walked up, flushed from dancing, smiling on the arm of Sir Gareth. “Are you having fun, Lady Kate?”

  Kate was saved from having to make some reply by the emergence of a footman. “Excuse me, my lady,” said the footman, addressing Kate. “I have been requested to inform you that the Earl of Darington is on the balcony off of the blue sitting room and is requesting your presence.”

  Kate’s heart sank. She knew that Robert was uncomfortable in these settings, but so far he had managed to hold his own. Perhaps it had finally gotten too much for the man. “Thank you. I will attend him directly.”

  “Would you like me to go with you?” asked Jane. “I do hope he is not unwell.”

  “He is most likely shy around company. Go and enjoy your dance. I will see to him.”

  Jane did not need more convincing and, within an instant, was arm in arm with Sir Gareth, being led back to the dance floor, a radiant smile on her face.

  After a bit of trial and error, Kate located the door to the blue sitting room. It was quite out of the way, down a corridor and past the dining area and the salons set apart for gaming. She was not surprised; Robert would choose the most out-of-the-way location to hide from society. She was feeling a bit overwhelmed herself, particularly wearing her new gown, and welcomed the chance to have a reprieve from the critical eyes of society.

  True to its name, the blue sitting room had a distinct blue motif, with floral blue wallpaper and a settee of light blue velvet. No one was in the room, and it was barely lit with only a few candles on the wall sconces. Robert had certainly found a remote place to hide. Blue brocade drapes hung on the other side of the room, which she guessed hid a door to the balcony. Did her brother feel the need to retreat so far as to stand out in the cold? Perhaps he was ill?

  Concern putting a spring in her step, she slipped past the curtain and opened the French doors to the balcony.

  “Robert?” She stepped outside into the frosty air, her breath visible in the cold night.

  The doors behind her shut with an ominous click. She spun to face Sir Richard, who regarded her with a devious glint in his eye.

  “What are you doing here? Where is my brother?” demanded Kate, wondering if Sir Richard had chased her brother away.

  “Last time we were together, I did not feel we had enough time to truly get to know one another. I know you have little regard for me, but I must insist that you give me the opportunity to rise in your estimation.”

  “You arranged for me to be here? Is this some sort of trap?” Kate wrapped her arms around herself against the cold.

  “I prefer to see it as an opportunity to kindle a new friendship.”

  “This time you’ve gone too far.” Kate marched to the door, but Sir Richard held fast and would not let her past. “Stand aside, now!”

  “Oh, such bad manners. You shall have to learn to control your temper, my dear,” chided Sir Richard in a superior tone.

  “Let me pass,” growled Kate, her heart beginning to beat a bit faster. What was this man playing at? Why was he trying to prevent her from leaving the balcony?

  “Let us be completely frank, shall we? I was initially engaged to Lady Jane. You ruined it. My financial situation at the moment requires me to have a large sum at my disposal in the very near future, or I shall be forced to flee to the Continent.”

  “Enjoy France,” said Kate without a hint of sympathy.

  “I have no intention of leaving. Since you were the one to cause my current dilemma, it is only fitting that you should provide the solution or, more to the point, your dowry.”

  “If you think I would marry you under any circumstances, you are very much mistaken.” Kate took a step to the right, but he anticipated and blocked her. She stepped to the left and he did the same. It was most annoying.

  “Soon, you shall have no choice. We shall be discovered together on this balcony in a compromising position, and you will be forced to marry me.” He said this with such cold, calculating certainty that Kate, who had not felt the remotest bit of fear, now experienced a froze
n sliver of dread creep down her spine.

  “Let. Me. Go.” Her hands balled into fists at her side.

  “You are mine,” he said with a snarl and grabbed her arms, pinning them to her sides and pulling her toward him. Anger, hot and raging, seethed within her. She slammed her knee up, causing her attacker to howl in pain as he clutched himself, bending over at the waist. She struck the heel of her hand into his nose and was rewarded with a satisfying crunch.

  He fell to the ground, blood spurting from his nose. “You broke my nose! Oh, ow, ow, you broke my nose.”

  Kate straightened her skirts and looked down at him with contempt. “Do not ever let me see you again, or your nose will be the least of your worries.”

  “Kate! What happened here? Are you all right?” Wynbrook burst through the door.

  “Yes, I am well. Only Sir Richard here attempted to trap me into marriage.”

  “He did what?” roared Wynbrook, grabbing the man by the lapels of his jacket and dragging him to his feet. Kate had never seen Wynbrook more enraged. Was he going to do the man bodily harm?

  “His attempts at seduction did not end well, unfortunately for him,” said Kate. “I do despise the man, but I would hate for you to have to answer awkward questions because you were forced to kill him. Do let us just leave him be. But how is it that you knew where to find me?”

  Wynbrook scowled, but let Richard fall back to the ground. “Jane told me you had been directed to the blue room to meet your brother, a curious thing because I knew Dare had retreated to the library. I was immediately suspicious and it seems I should have been.”

  “This is what comes from telling my brother to set my dowry at a ridiculous amount.”

  “Please, let us not quarrel about that again. Your brother is only trying to protect you and provide you what you are worth. No one intended for you to be molested at a private ball.”

  “I know he was trying to help,” conceded Kate.

  “A pox on both of you,” sputtered Richard, struggling to regain his feet.

  “What shall we do with this wastrel?” asked Kate.

  From the room beyond, they could hear voices of people entering the blue sitting room, though the heavy brocade curtain kept them hidden for the moment. “I saw Lady Kate and Sir Richard sneak away here, I know I did. Far be it from me to turn a blind eye to such goings-on,” said a lady’s voice.

  “I wish he weren’t here,” whispered Kate, motioning toward the seething form of Sir Richard.

  He still held his nose with one hand, the blood continuing to drip down onto his snowy-white cravat. He held on to the stone balcony wall for support. “You broke my nose, you little bitch.”

  Wynbrook said not a word but strolled directly over to Sir Richard and, with one good shove, knocked him clean off the balcony.

  “Oh!” gasped Kate. “I told you not to kill him, though he did deserve it.” She ran over to the balcony wall and looked over. Sir Richard lay on a bushy hedge one floor below.

  “Ow,” howled Sir Richard. “You ruined my best dinner jacket.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, but he does not appear to be dead,” drawled Wynbrook.

  “There! I told you we would find them here.” The woman Kate had seen before with Sir Richard swept back the curtain with supreme confidence, only to have her countenance twist into one of shock. “But where is Sir Richard?”

  “Sir Richard is so deep in his cups he fell off the balcony,” said Wynbrook with a slow drawl. “Lady Katherine and I heard his plaintive cries and came to the balcony to see if we could render assistance. I fear someone may have to drive the poor sod home, for he is in no condition for public viewing. Quick now, somebody go down to the gardens and retrieve him from the rhododendron.”

  Kate had to flick open her fan to hide a smile. “I suppose there is going to be quite a stir about this.”

  “Fire!” someone shouted from inside the house. “Everyone outside!”

  “Gracious! Has the tree lit up?” asked Kate as Wynbrook ushered her to the nearest exit. Everyone poured out of the house with tales of explosions and fire and possibly an exploding tree.

  With shouts of “Make way!” several footmen and a few young gentlemen ran the sizzling tree out of the house and dumped it unceremoniously into the snow of the front lawn.

  “Best Christmas party ever!” shouted Tristan in high spirits.

  “Was anyone hurt?” asked Wynbrook.

  “No, no, just a good deal of smoke. What fun!” answered Tristan.

  Wynbrook ran back inside the ballroom to help escort out some of the elder attendees of the party. Kate followed to do the same and was not surprised to be passed by Robert, who was carrying out a portly matron who had apparently fainted at the excitement.

  Kate was never one to run from danger. She took the arm of an elderly gentleman to help him outside and felt she had her feet under her again. Evacuating people from a fire was something she understood how to do.

  After everyone had been escorted to safety, it took a bit to collect their wraps from the harried butler who was attempting to serve the crush of people standing on the front lawn. No one appeared injured, and the fire had apparently been put out in time.

  “At least no one will remember the Sir Richard affair,” commented Wynbrook.

  “True,” said Kate with a smile.

  “Merry Christmas, Kate,” said Wynbrook.

  “A happy Christmas to you too,” answered Kate, realizing that the only parts of the evening she had appreciated were those in the company of Wynbrook, even if they were also the moments of disaster. She had enjoyed it because she was able to face it all at Wynbrook’s side.

  Too bad he was intended for someone else.

  Fifteen

  Kate had a problem.

  It was Christmas.

  The time of year some people gave gifts. She had never participated in such activities, but it seemed clear the Arlington family was among those people who did. They had graciously opened their home to her and her brother, sponsored them in society, and given them both entire wardrobes.

  Gifts in return were required.

  But what could she possibly give? The shops were all closed and she would not know what to buy even if they had been open.

  She rummaged through the sea locker that held all her worldly belongings, wondering if somewhere in her meager belongings, gifts could be found. She pulled out her ledgers, precious only to herself, and her homemade clothes, rejected soundly by everyone in the house. Those things would not do. She removed her traveling desk, so beaten and worn it could be appreciated only by the one who used it. She tossed aside a stack of unopened letters tied in string from their godfather, General Roberts. He had not been there to help when they needed him, so why should they acknowledge him now? She had considered tossing the letters into the fire but somehow could never bring herself to do it. Instead, she kept each one and tied them together, unopened.

  At the bottom of the chest, she removed an old hatbox tied in ribbon. She had not looked in the box for a long time, for it held memories, and memories and she did not get along. She slowly untied the ribbon and opened the lid. These were her treasures, the things she had taken with her to school before her father passed, and a few things she had picked up along the way.

  She spread them out on her bed and made her selections, wrapping them carefully in parchment paper and sealing them with wax. The gifts to the ladies of the house would be from her, and the gifts to Wynbrook and Tristan she signed from Robert. Satisfied that everything was correct and proper, she placed her remaining items back in the tattered hatbox.

  She left her gifts on the bed, to be easily retrieved when the time was right. In respect to the holiday, Wynbrook had given the servants the day off. Some of them visited family if they were local in London, and others retreated to the servants’ quarters for a cel
ebration of their own. A cold supper had been prepared in advance for the family to enjoy, and afterward, the family gathered around the fire in the sitting room.

  Seated comfortably in an armchair, Kate had the ridiculous notion to lean back and relax. She would never actually do such a thing, but the temptation proved to her how comfortable she was feeling within this family group.

  The family was seated around the fire in a cozy half circle. Robert was next to her, then Jane, then Tristan, Ellen in her rolling chair, and across from Kate was Wynbrook, John Arlington himself, looking comfortable yet daring with the firelight glinting in his eyes. Perhaps he was even more dangerous when he was relaxed, for he appeared even more handsome in repose. Truly, the man was not safe. Not for her.

  “Now for the best part,” said Tristan with a gleam in his eye.

  Kate thought it must be the presents, but instead, he knelt by the fire with a bag of sifted sugar, some bottles of flavorings, and a pan. He mixed sugar and lemon juice and began to bring it to a boil over the fire.

  “Do you remember doing this at Cambridge?” asked Tristan with a grin.

  Indeed she did. Fondly. Tristan often would come to their lodgings with an armful of fixings for sugar drops, and the three of them—Kate, Robert, and Tristan—would eat sweets and study into the cold winter nights. Or at least, she and Robert would study while Tristan made the sweets. She prepared more than one paper for the fun-loving Tristan. She enjoyed reading his books and doing his work. Had she been able, she would have enjoyed attending university. Technically, Tristan had graduated with a degree in the law, but it was Kate who had benefitted the most from his education.

  “Ah, I haven’t done this since I left the nursery!” Wynbrook exclaimed, and to her surprise, he joined his brother, kneeling by the fire to make the candy. When the mixture was almost at a boil, they removed it from the fire and began to swirl silver wire around the edges to form a lemon drop, and then plunked it down onto a tin plate to cool.

  “Do you remember trying to hide the candy from Nanny Forman?” Tristan told the tale, and soon, all the Arlington family was laughing. Robert even formed something close to a smile. It was quite a night.