“You are looking very…” Wynbrook was not to be diverted from her unusual appearance.
“Prepared for the ceremony to begin?” she asked, hoping to turn the conversation away from her attire.
Wynbrook shook his head, the look of amazement still clear on his face.
“Delighted to be witnessing your sister’s wedding?” It was a futile attempt, but Kate thought she would give it one last try.
“No… You are looking so…”
“Pink,” she groaned.
“Yes! Pink. I’ve never before seen you look so…so…pink.”
“Your sister chose the gown.”
“I have no doubt she did.”
“I advised against it.”
“I am certain you did.”
Kate reached the bottom of the stairs but remained on the bottom step so as to look Wynbrook in the eye. “You do not appreciate your sister’s choice in palette.”
“On the contrary, I am finding her choice quite—”
“Don’t you dare say ‘amusing,’” Kate threatened. One could only take so much.
“Would not dream of it.” He spoke the words with solemnity, but his eyes were dancing. In truth, he had lovely green eyes, especially when they were full of merriment.
Kate cleared her throat and looked over his shoulder to the hallway beyond. It was most awkward to be standing next to the Earl of Wynbrook, wearing a shockingly bright gown. She had a sudden urge to wrap herself up in a shawl—a very large, very black shawl.
“You look very bright,” said Wynbrook in a halting cadence, as if filtering his words to find something palatable.
Kate glared at him, willing him not to say anything more.
“And very, very pink.” Wynbrook succumbed to the obvious.
“We have established I’m wearing pink.”
“It bears repeating.”
“We shall have to disagree on that score,” grumbled Kate.
“You do look quite—”
“Pink. I know. Please let them know they are about to bring Lady Jane downstairs.” Kate walked past him, trying not to look as if she were fleeing for her life. It was going to be a long day. A very long, very pink day.
* * *
Wynbrook stared after the retreating form of Lady Katherine in frank admiration. He had been utterly surprised to see Kate in such an unusual state of attire. He never thought he would see the day when Kate, whom he was willing to bet had never added a single ribbon of adornment to her hair, would wear such a bright color.
The grumbling demeanor aside, Kate was quite lovely. Her hair had been dressed in curls and the gown was designed in the current fashion, with a high waistline, a sculpted bodice, and a wispy skirt floating down the length of her body. Not every lady could wear this new fashion—it took a thin, statuesque figure to display the gown to best advantage. This was easily achieved by Kate, and so unconsciously done that it only added to her beauty.
Wynbrook paused. Beauty? Over the past few weeks, his admiration for her figure had increased to the point where he had to admit she was a handsome lady, but in the formfitting silk-satin, she became something more. She was a seductive siren, daring him to follow her onto the shoals…and follow her he would.
Wynbrook shook his head to dispel such thoughts and proceeded into the courtyard. Anne had taken control of deciding who would ride in what carriage and in what order, and Wynbrook was perfectly content to let her manage those details. Despite the nervous energy that had taken hold of Jane and his other sisters, Wynbrook was perfectly at ease. His middle sister would be married; social disaster had been averted; all was right in his world.
Wynbrook was to play the role of his father in the ceremony and so was ushered into their best carriage with Jane alone. It was a sobering moment, realizing he had taken his father’s place. He experienced the familiar ache of wishing his parents had not left this earth so soon. It should have been his father standing beside Jane today, and one look at the tears glistening in Jane’s eyes told him that she also felt his absence. It was every girl’s right to have her father proudly walk her down the aisle at her wedding. He handed Jane a handkerchief.
“You look very well,” he said, trying to redirect Jane’s thoughts to a happier topic.
“Thank you,” whispered Jane in a shaky voice.
Wynbrook did not know how to address the issue of their missing father, so he tried again at redirection. “You are marrying the right lad, you know. Glad it worked out the way it did.”
“Yes.” This gained him a smile, though she dabbed her eyes once more.
“Father would have approved.”
Jane turned to him, her eyes wide. “Do you think so?”
“Yes, of course he would. And Mum would have loved him.”
“Oh, I hope they would have. I fear I have lost a bit of confidence in my own judgment of character.”
“No need for that,” he reassured her, clenching his hands at the thought of Sir Richard. “You chose the right man in the end.”
“Thanks to Lady Kate. I shudder to think what would have happened if she had not opened my eyes to Sir Richard’s true nature.”
“Yes, we all are indebted to her.” The carriage rattled on for a moment before he added, “You put her in pink.”
Jane gave him a guilty smile and hid a giggle behind her hand. “I did, didn’t I? I suppose that was unkind.” But she said it with a laugh.
“She is bearing it with the demeanor of a prisoner being led to a firing squad,” drawled Wynbrook.
Jane laughed outright. “I fear it was most unkind of me to repay her kindness in such a manner. I thought only to brighten her for the wedding, but I could see this morning she did not care for it. By that point it was too late to change. What was I to do?”
“No, no, do not feel sorry one jot. I have rarely enjoyed anything more than seeing Kate in that lovely shade of pink. Reminds me of a cat you girls had when you were young and dressed it up as a baby.”
Jane laughed again. “Poor Muffin. She was a very long-suffering cat.”
“I swear Kate has the same look in her eye.”
They both laughed.
The wedding progressed as weddings should and Kate, the long-suffering, stood bravely before the assembly in her shocking shade of pink. If her demeanor resembled something more appropriate to a funeral than a wedding, at least she performed her required office honorably and did not run screaming from the church.
After the wedding, Anne took over the arrangements for traveling back to Arlington Hall for the wedding breakfast. Naturally, the bride and groom would ride together, and the remaining wedding guests were ushered into different carriages, leaving Kate and Wynbrook to ride the relatively short distance together. Wynbrook was initially pleased, though one glance at Kate told him the feeling was not mutual.
Kate climbed into the carriage, ignoring the offered hand of the coachman. She swung herself up easily into the carriage and settled onto the red squabs. The red velvet clashed garishly with the bright pink of her gown, making it appear even more gaudy and unnatural.
Wynbrook climbed in after her only to be received by a most unwelcome glare.
“Why do you not ride with your sisters?” demanded Kate. “I’m sure they would be glad of your company.”
“I cannot speak to the pleasure they may or may not have in my presence, but I will say that Anne has directed me to escort you in this carriage, and when it comes to wedding arrangements, I dare not oppose her in any way.” He thought that would be the end of any debate on the subject and was surprised that she pursued the matter.
“But the wedding is over. Now you should be able to ride with whomever you wish.”
“The wedding over? My dear girl, now comes the wedding breakfast, followed by the wedding tea and the wedding dinner, followed by the wed
ding card game, the wedding supper, and finally, the wedding bedchamber. I may not know much about any of this, but I do know that on the day of the nuptials, everything has the word ‘wedding’ in front of it and even the most benign activity takes on the significance of a high and holy moment. I have learned to stand where I’m directed, smile when instructed, and do what I’m told.” He rapped on the ceiling to let the coachman know they were ready to leave whenever it was appropriate in the procession.
Kate sighed loudly, so loudly that it resembled more of a growl.
Wynbrook attempted polite conversation. “I believe it was a successful wedding.”
“Yes, the intended bride and groom were married at the end of the ceremony, thus a successful conclusion to the event.” Kate had not a shred of romance in her.
“Yes, indeed, but I was considering the whole manner in which they were wed. The bride was appropriately blissful, the groom was stoic, the church was packed, and the bridesmaids were fashionably attired.”
Kate glared at him with such venom he shifted a bit farther away from her on the velvet squabs, though he already sat across from her.
“This gown is not fashionable; it is fatal. I fear if I am forced to wear this thing for one moment more I shall scream or spontaneously combust or go mad.”
“It is perhaps not a typical color palette for you.” Wynbrook chose each word carefully, making sure he did not laugh openly at her, so she had no reason to wrap one of those ridiculous pink ribbons around his throat.
“It is pink.” She spat the word as if it were poison on her tongue.
“So very pink.” He could not keep the mirth from bubbling past his lips. She was utterly outraged, and the comparison with Muffin the cat was too great to suppress his laughter.
“That’s it. I cannot stand to be in this gown. I must change now.”
“It will not take too long to get back to the house. I am certain my sister would understand if you changed into some other frock once you arrived.” He tried valiantly to contain his amusement at her discomfort.
“No, I must change now. You are laughing at me with every second I am in this hideous gown. I cannot abide it one second longer.” She leaned over and hiked up the hem of her dress, grabbing a small dagger strapped to her calf. Wynbrook could only stare. What was she going to do? He feared for a moment that she might do him harm, though he made no effort to defend himself. Fortunately, her target was not him but rather the offending garment. In a quick movement, she reached around to her back with the knife, slicing through the ties of her gown.
“What are you doing?” Wynbrook cried, lurching across the carriage to grab her arms. Interesting how he moved quickly when he thought she might do herself harm but not at all when he considered his own safety in jeopardy.
“Let me go,” demanded Kate.
“Not while you’re holding that dagger. You are not yourself.” Or maybe she was exactly like herself—he didn’t rightly know.
Kate offered the dagger to him, raising one eyebrow. “Here, take it. I’m finished with it now.”
Wynbrook released her but sat beside her carefully. “Finished with what?”
“Avert your eyes.” Kate did not wait to see if he did or did not comply, which he did not. She stood in the coach as it rolled down the rough country road, stooping a bit so as not to bump her head. With one swift motion, she reached down, grabbed the hem of the offending pink gown, and pulled it up over her head, tossing it to the opposite seat in the carriage where it slumped down on the velvet seat like a vanquished foe.
If her gown was off of her, what was she wearing? His gaze shot back to her. She smoothed her hands down one of her new, gauzy white gowns made of the lightest, most ethereal fabric. It was so light and formfitting, she had managed to wear it under the pink gown.
She sat back down, folding her hands before her prim and proper, yet the gown was so sheer he could almost see through to her petticoats. Little wonder she could wear it under the pink silk; it was barely there. It was nothing more than the latest fashion, clearly one his sisters had chosen for her, but his jaw went slack.
Struggling, he finally formed words. “You wore that under your gown?”
“Yes,” said Kate simply, looking decidedly more comfortable though infinitely more desirable. He was not laughing now.
“I cannot believe you…you just took your gown off in front of me,” stammered Wynbrook.
Kate regarded him with an expression similar to one of his tutors when he was slow with his sums, the look of resigned patience with the intellectually feeble. “First, I did tell you to avert your eyes. Second, I agreed to wear that travesty for the wedding and not one moment longer. So I have now removed it. It was no different from removing a coat since, as you see, I am fully clothed. You saw nothing.”
What he saw was that Kate had removed her gown before him. What she had underneath was irrelevant, since his imagination supplied the rest. It was going to be a long night, and he feared Lady Kate would be prominent in his dreams.
“Yes, yes, of course.” It was the only thing he could think of to say.
“You can return my dagger to me now,” Kate demanded, holding out an empty palm.
He should have withheld it from her on principle, but a rebellious side of him wondered if she had the knife maybe she would remove another layer of clothing. He handed the dagger back to her. She accepted the dagger and leaned down, pulling up her skirts once more to reveal a shapely ankle. But she did not stop there and pulled her skirts even farther to reveal the sheath strapped to her calf. She replaced the dagger, dropped her skirts, and sat up tall, folding her hands in her lap as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
The carriage ground to a halt and the unwanted pink silk garment slid into a bright heap on the floor of the carriage. Wynbrook realized their time together was over. His mind spun, trying to comprehend what had just occurred. Had he truly witnessed her removing her gown in front of him? The pink puddle at his feet seemed to indicate it was true.
Kate alighted from the carriage, accepting the hand of the coachman. If the man noticed the change in attire, he had the self-control to not say a word.
At least with Kate, life would never be dull.
Seventeen
Wynbrook followed Kate into the house like a moth following a flame. She was not at all the lady for him, he felt compelled to remind himself. Everyone expected him to make an offer to Miss Frances, though in truth he’d never had much interest in the match. Frances was a perfectly pleasant girl, from a well-known family, and she would make a socially acceptable countess.
Kate, on the other hand, would make a terrible countess. Her brusque manner had none of the inviting social grace of his mother. No, she simply would not do. Besides, even if he did ask for her hand in marriage, she would most definitely turn him down flat.
Wynbrook realized with a start that he was considering Lady Kate as his future bride. Had he lost his mind?
“John!” Tristan appeared with a bemused smile. “So lost in your thoughts you can’t even acknowledge your brother?”
“Sorry. Woolgathering.”
“Left your mind behind?”
“Somewhere with the pink frock,” muttered John.
“Kate changed quickly,” Tristan commented with a laugh.
“You have no idea.”
“Be cryptic if you like, but the guests are beginning to return for the wedding breakfast. You might want to be present since you are our host!” Tristan left him with a smile.
“Yes, yes, of course,” mumbled Wynbrook, his eyes still on Lady Kate. She and her brother had taken up defendable positions in a corner of the room, near an exit. Though he needed to attend to his responsibilities, he could not tear his gaze away from Kate. The formfitting gown hugged her curves, which had increased with the past few weeks of good food. In truth, Kate’s
appearance had improved dramatically once she had lost the look of haunted deprivation and gained more rounded edges. She was looking very fine indeed.
“Lord Wynbrook!”
Wynbrook was startled for the second time in a handful of minutes into recognizing he was not paying the slightest attention to anyone around him save Lady Kate.
“Lord and Lady Devine,” he said quickly. “And Miss Frances. I am so glad you were able to come to the wedding.” Wynbrook greeted the couple and their young niece, who was expected to make a brilliant entrance into society, if not move directly into marriage. A marriage in which he was supposed to play the role of groom.
Admiral Lord Devine and his wife were very kind people who had been friends of his family since well before John had been born. Their niece was very pretty and exactly the sort of young, biddable girl he should be marrying. Yet, as he glanced again at Lady Kate, he knew he could never marry Miss Frances.
“We would not miss dear Jane’s special day for anything. It was a moving ceremony,” said Lady Devine.
“Yes, quite,” said Wynbrook. He had not paid the least bit of attention other than to ensure the marriage was good and legal.
“I think it is a very good thing for young people to be married. Do you not agree?” she added, giving him a pointed look followed by a smile at her niece.
Wynbrook cleared his throat. “Yes. I have heard some people approve of the marital state.”
“I do believe now that Jane is wed, you also shall consider taking a bride.”
“Now, my dear,” Admiral Devine gently chastised. “Do not badger the man about getting married.”
“Oh, but I must!” cried Lady Devine with a charming smile. “Lady Wynbrook was my dearest friend and I know she would have John in thumbscrews by now for being still unwed. I am only doing my duty to speak for his poor mama.”
John laughed, for everything Lady Devine said was true. His mother had begun plotting his wedding from the moment he’d turned eighteen. “I accept the chastisement on behalf of my mother. I am sure she would be pleased to know you are carrying out her wishes.”
If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages) Page 14