“Just a simple robbery?”
“Well, all right, not simple. It was rather elaborate. But just a robbery all the same, I’m sure.”
Ben nodded, although he was not entirely convinced. He had a strange, niggling sense that there was something more complicated than robbery going on. He didn’t know why he was suspicious—perhaps because Kate had seemed so scared. He’d expect that from another woman, but not from her…she’d even fainted, for God’s sake.
He forced the problem to the back of his mind, however, letting the subject drop. It wasn’t his concern, so there was no sense in worrying about it. No sense in thinking about Katherine Sutcliff at all, in fact. Thoughts of her irritated him in all the wrong ways.
But as the night wore on and Ben was visited again and again with visions of rich, copper hair and dark, violet eyes, he realized that forgetting Kate wouldn’t be so easy.
Chapter Seven
The fat, striped ribbon on Kate’s straw bonnet tickled her face terribly, but it would be unseemly to scratch whilst promenading in St. James’s Park. It was unusually warm for springtime, and she was surrounded by similarly uncomfortable people. She didn’t really want to be there—she’d hoped to spend the day at home, sitting in a comfortable chair with her feet tucked up, having her tea. Charlotte, however, had all but insisted that she come with her to the park for a picnic. Mary—who’d been enlisted as chaperone—had done her part by haranguing Kate mercilessly that morning when she’d clung to her quilt and refused to leave her bed. It was almost as if they were working in collusion. When Kate had tried to delay their excursion by an hour so they would miss the heat of high noon, neither woman would listen to her protests. They were definitely acting strangely.
Kate had no idea why they should be so adamant, but supposed it might be due to the fact that she’d been avoiding most social outings recently. Her eventful evening with Benjamin Sinclair had caused a minor scandal, and she’d simply been too embarrassed to leave the house until it subsided. But now, over two weeks later, the rumors had mostly dissipated—instead, everyone was talking about Samantha Bainbridge and her mysteriously expanding waistline. She hadn’t even seen Ben since that night, a good thing since it meant she hadn’t had to face the temptation of seeing him again either. Still, it also meant that she’d had to face the gossip alone, and she couldn’t help resenting him slightly for that.
“Ah, Kate, it’s glorious,” Charlotte said, linking arms with her and inhaling deeply. “Aren’t you pleased you came?”
“Certainly, Charlotte. And Mary seems to be enjoying herself, too. Are you not, Mary?” She looked over her shoulder as she asked this question. Mary, who’d formerly been so enthusiastic about the outing, straggled a few paces behind, discreetly wiping sweat from her brow. She made a face at Kate and didn’t answer.
The plan was a picnic by the lake, and Charlotte had overseen everything. An impeccable white linen quilt lay folded in a wicker hamper, along with silver cutlery and a dainty lunch of cucumber sandwiches, chicken, fruit and cake. She’d even packed extra bread for the swans…although Kate had noticed Mary leave that bit of ballast by the side of the road. She was carrying the heavy thing, after all.
The park was crowded, and Charlotte frowned slightly as they approached the lake and scanned it for the perfect picnic spot. “We cannot stop here. There are simply too many people around.”
“It isn’t that bad, Charlotte. I don’t think we’ll find anything better today.”
“No, Kate,” she said firmly, “I do not like to be overlooked. Come along.”
The perfect spot was finally located a long quarter of an hour later, on the far side of the lake. It was really quite secluded, a surprising treat for one of the royal parks in the spring. Mary spread out the blanket and began unpacking their basket. Charlotte perused the setting with satisfaction, her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun.
“I say,” she said after a moment, gazing across the lake. “Is that Lady Danbury?”
Kate looked, too. The woman’s features were hard to make out at such a distance, but she did not look familiar. “Um…I’m not sure. I don’t think so.”
“But it is! Oh, Kate, I have something to tell her. Really, I must dash off for a minute. You won’t mind, will you?” She phrased it as a question, but it wasn’t, really.
“No…but I don’t think that’s Lady Danbury.”
Charlotte ignored her. “I will only be a few minutes, darling. Do start your lunch without me.” She took a step as if to leave but then hesitated for a moment, chewing her lip. “Kate, I’m afraid Mary must come with me. I cannot be seen walking alone. You will be all right here, will you not? No one is likely to come by.”
Kate shrugged. Their picnic spot was protected by the lake on one side and by a dense crescent of trees on the other. “I’ll be fine. Give Lady Danbury my best…if it is Lady—”
“It is, Kate. I’m certain. We’ll return soon.”
Kate sat down on the blanket and watched them walk purposefully off. It would take them at least twenty minutes to return. Very strange behavior indeed.
Alone at last, she took off her hat with a sigh of relief and lay back on the quilt. Everything considered, her life was progressing favorably…things could be worse, at any rate. Although her name hadn’t survived unscathed, Philip Bannister hadn’t been bothered by her slightly damaged reputation, largely because Charlotte had thoroughly explained to him the unusual circumstances of that evening. Although Kate had hoped to have a larger pool of suitors, he was the only one to emerge so far. Charlotte assured her that he was certain to propose by the end of the season.
There had also been no further incidents, making Kate think that her attempted abduction was just a random and isolated act after all. Perhaps a highwayman, as Robert had suggested. No more, no less.
For the moment, at least, she could do nothing but close her eyes and enjoy the sun.
But then a rustle in the bushes behind her caused her to open her eyes and sit up with a start. She turned, expecting to see Mary returning to retrieve some forgotten item.
Instead she saw a man. Medium height and graying, sandy hair…an acceptable if not truly fashionable suit. Something about him was vaguely familiar, but Kate simply could not place his face. He removed his hat and opened his mouth to speak, but another noise, this time coming from the opposite direction, drew her gaze away.
This time, it was a more familiar figure: Benjamin Sinclair, looking just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.
“Hello.”
Kate nodded, blushing. “Oh—” She turned quickly to acknowledge the other man, but by that time he’d vanished.
Ben moved forward somewhat reluctantly. “Odd chap. Turned and left the moment he saw me. Do you know him?”
“I’m not sure…he must have accidentally wandered this way.”
“And delicately left the moment he realized he’d stumbled on a young lady alone?” Ben suggested, sitting on a rock to face her. Obviously he had no plans to be so tactful.
Kate rolled her eyes.
“Your secret admirer, then?”
She snorted this time. “That is highly doubtful. Most potential admirers seem to be avoiding me.”
“That’s my fault, is it?”
It wasn’t, really. He hadn’t been the one to abduct her and it wasn’t fair to blame him for the consequences. She shook her head guiltily.
“You’re not really alone here, are you?” he asked, looking at the capacious picnic hamper.
“I’m with Charlotte…only something rather urgent took her away for a—” She broke off, suddenly suspicious. “She didn’t tell you to come here, did she?”
“Sorry?”
“Charlotte told you to come here!” Kate exclaimed in outrage. “She just cannot stop meddling. That’s why she was so insistent that we should come here today…that we should sit in this spot in particular. She planned this!”
Ben looked a bit tak
en aback. “Charlotte doesn’t tell me to do anything, Kate. And I hate to inform you, but I’m still pretty much anathema where your brother is concerned. He’s yet to fully forgive me for that night…and I don’t think Charlotte would dare go against his wishes.”
Kate knew without a doubt that Charlotte would, but Ben seemed to be telling the truth. It was highly unlikely that he’d have wanted to seek her out, anyway, and she blushed at her naiveté for even suggesting such a thing. “You’ve just come for a stroll, then?”
He nodded. “I was returning home, actually…thought I’d stop at the lake first, though. It looked so peaceful. The water always has a way of restoring order to my mind.”
She smiled and looked out at the lake—he was sitting much too close, and if she were to look at him she’d go all to pieces. He was speaking to her as if she was a friend…it was at once odd and extremely pleasurable. “I agree. I’ve missed the ocean terribly since moving to London. The lake in St. James’s Park, fond as I am of it, is a poor substitute. I can never understand how my brother can live here year round, having grown up so close to the coast. I don’t think I could do it. Perhaps you can better understand it, living in London as well.”
“Then I should surprise you,” he answered with a smile. “I only spend about four months of the year in town. I split the rest of the year between my father’s home in Hampshire—not far, in fact, from the Bannisters’ country seat. The rest of the year I spend on a boat.”
“A boat?”
“A few years back, you see, I was foolish enough to think it would be a lark to try my hand at the shipping business, and now I’m obliged to make sure that my company doesn’t go into debt. Actually,” he lowered his voice and leaned in close, grinning conspiratorially, “it’s just an excuse to travel.”
Robert had mentioned this fact about Ben once, several years ago, but Kate had actually forgotten about it until that moment. In fact, she could remember resenting him at the time, assuming that his business was a typical diversion of some spoiled, dilettante lord—she’d have given anything to be in his place. But hearing him speak so candidly made her suddenly suspect that he really did care and that, just maybe, they might share some interests after all.
“Where on earth did you get the idea to begin a shipping company?” she asked, and then realized that her question sounded rather rude. “Not that there is anything wrong with it…it’s just an unusual occupation for a lord, is all.”
“Well, after I finished university, I traveled a bit…to Greece and Rome, mainly, like the rest of my contemporaries. But while the rest of them, your brother included, were seasick for most the way, I suddenly found that I felt better than I had in years. I felt like I had a purpose. So my love of the sea was born.”
“And that was that?”
“That was that. You know, it always surprises me that Robert isn’t more involved in your family’s business. I’ve even offered to buy it from him.”
“Oh, you have, have you?”
He blinked in surprise. “You needn’t sound so defensive. He wouldn’t sell it, and I wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway. I hardly have the time for another commitment.”
“I wasn’t being defensive.”
Ben sighed. “It was rather nice, fleeting moment though it was, not to argue with you, Kate. Peace—I beg of you. What’s in the hamper, by the way?”
“This one next to me?”
“Yes. Is it lunch?”
He looked so hopeful that she had to smile. “A feast. Please, help yourself.”
Ben rose from the rock to rummage through the basket, and Kate had to force herself not to stare at him as he walked toward it. Damn. She almost suspected that she picked arguments with him so that she could forget how appealing he was. But now that they had called a truce…
She wasn’t even going to let her mind travel down that path. Benjamin Sinclair was an acquaintance. She would be polite to him. At times, she might even permit herself to enjoy his company. But she could not take his flirtation too seriously…he probably flirted with every woman he met.
“Kate?”
“Yes?”
“I asked you if you cared for anything from this basket. Apple…chicken, biscuits…some rather offensive cheese…”
“Apple, please.”
Ben took two apples from the basket and returned to his seat on the rock. “How has your season been going?”
She almost choked on her first bite. She’d hardly expected Ben to ask such a polite, bland question, and it put her immediately on her guard. “It is going well, thank you. I trust yours is, too?”
“You forget what the London season is really intended for, Kate. I haven’t been having one.”
She blushed again. Of course. The season was designed for debutantes and their prospective beaus—not for people like Benjamin Sinclair.
He continued, a touch of sarcasm lacing his voice. “You’ve actually surprised me, Kate. You confess to very few admirers and yet almost three whole weeks have passed. I’m amazed that you are not already betrothed after such a lengthy time.”
From anyone else she might take these words as a compliment, but this statement sounded rather rude coming from him. She shook her head in answer, thinking of Philip’s apparently impending proposal. “Almost, perhaps, but not quite.”
“But that is still your objective, of course.”
“I suppose. It’s everyone’s objective, isn’t it?”
Ben smiled faintly, shaking his head and mimicking her words. “Almost, perhaps, but not quite.”
“I see.” She had no doubt who the exception was.
“There’s really no incentive for me to bother with the season and its dull events. Unlike you, I suppose.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Perhaps there are things—people, maybe—that make these social events more tolerable for you.”
Kate wasn’t sure why, but she felt as if she were treading on the conversational equivalent of very thin ice. He had tossed his question off casually enough, but something in his eyes, some sudden and inscrutable intensity, made her wonder if his question didn’t have an underlying purpose. He seemed to be looking for a specific answer and she wished she knew what he was thinking. “Well…” she replied tentatively, “There is my brother and Charlotte…I haven’t been to that many events, really…” She trailed off in embarrassment, unsure of what else to say.
Ben finished his apple and threw the core into the lake. For a moment they were both silent.
“I should go before Charlotte returns,” he said, looking at Kate once more and rising.
Kate nodded. “I think so.” She couldn’t help but feel that something strange had passed between them, something she didn’t understand but was powerfully aware of nonetheless. There was a guarded quality to his eyes that she hadn’t seen when he’d first arrived.
He said no more. He bowed slightly and left.
When Charlotte and Mary returned a few minutes later, Kate couldn’t help but notice the questioning looks they both gave her.
“You’ve been all right here, have you not, Kate?” Charlotte asked expectantly.
“Yes.” It was obvious she was hoping for more of an answer than that but Kate was unwilling to play along. Damn Charlotte again for her meddling. Clearly she was up to something. She must have known that Ben would be there. But if he didn’t tell her, then who did? Maybe Robert had inadvertently mentioned something…yet that just didn’t make sense.
Charlotte still pressed her. “Nothing unusual has happened?”
“No.”
“Oh…well, that’s a relief. I was a bit…worried at leaving you here alone for so long. I mean, if someone came across you unchaperoned, why, then it would be a bit scandalous. It might look as if you were waiting for a tryst or something. But I guess if no one saw you…”
Kate merely shrugged and rose to get a cucumber sandwich. Dratted matchmaker. As if she didn’t find Ben hard enough to resi
st without Charlotte’s help. She was doomed.
Chapter Eight
September 1817
Kate was seated at her dressing table, looking intently at her reflection in the mirror without really seeing it. She sighed, telling herself again that she should be happy. All told, everything had been going pretty well. Lord Clifford, in fact, had already proposed—an offer that she had graciously declined due to his habits of trying to paw her in dark corners and snorting when he laughed. She also sensed that Philip would propose any day now. Kate wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that. She got on with Philip well enough, but knew that under normal circumstances she wouldn’t have even considered an offer from him; in an ideal world, she would love, rather than simply like, the man she married. But under her abnormal circumstances, all Kate required was someone she could exist with amicably. By that criterion, Philip’s proposal would be a godsend. He was kind, attractive and a dutiful son and brother. She should be happy.
But Kate wasn’t happy and knew the reason why. God, how she wished she’d never met Benjamin Sinclair. He’d put a definite kink into her well-laid plans. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t help but compare Philip to Ben, and unfortunately the former came up dreadfully short in the comparison. She didn’t know why it mattered—Ben wasn’t exactly a candidate for the position of husband, wasn’t even a factor in her day-to-day existence. It had been nearly five months since that day in the park, and she hadn’t so much as seen him. He’d stayed far away from Robert’s town house, and it hurt her more than she cared to admit. She was dying to ask her brother where he’d been, but resisted out of pride and because she knew that he’d only lecture her on Ben’s many flaws.
Of course, Kate wasn’t quite sure what she would do if she did see him again. Probably run and hide. Despite her curiosity about his whereabouts, she was in no hurry to encounter him again and had actually done her part to avoid him, too. She’d steered clear of any events that he might have attended, an easy enough task since he himself confessed to shun most balls.
Sarah Elliott Page 7