Conspiracy of Hearts

by Helen Dickson

  Serena shook her head in some confusion, her face white and stricken. ‘No. I’ve never met her.’

  ‘Then why do you think ill of her?’ he asked gently, studying her face intently, seeing her eyes mist over with tears.

  The tears Serena had been trying valiantly to suppress welled irresistibly and rolled out of the corners of her eyes and streaked unhindered down her cheeks.

  ‘I confess to knowing very little about her, only that she is a wealthy widow who has been my father’s mistress for some years—a woman who chose to make her home in Flanders where she is allowed to practice her religion with the freedom denied her in England. According to Andrew, she has been trying to coax Father into marriage for some time, but he always refused to live anywhere other than England. She also has children—two, I believe.’

  ‘And does this offend you?’

  ‘No. No—of course it doesn’t—but—oh, how can I make you understand?’ She wept unhappily. ‘I can never accept this marriage. It can never be anything but a travesty.’

  ‘Why? It is real enough—conducted before a priest in the proper manner. And if Mrs Davis has been your father’s mistress for a number of years, then surely he has done the honourable thing by marrying her.’

  ‘But I cannot forget how close my father and mother were,’ Serena cried brokenly, trying to make Kit understand how bereft she felt. ‘It hurts so much knowing another woman has taken her place.’

  ‘Maybe in his life but not in his heart—not if he loved your mother as deeply as you say he did. Don’t you think that perhaps you are being a little selfish and hard on him—that you are blinkered and unable to see anything but your own point of view? I would have thought you desired your father’s happiness—especially at this difficult time in his life. Hasn’t it occurred to you that you might even like his wife?’

  In silent misery Serena hung her head. What Kit said was painfully true. She had never asked her father how he felt about Mrs Davis, what she was like, and she should have. ‘You are right. I have always been wilful and selfish—always thinking of my own needs before those of others. It is wicked and sinful to want to keep him to myself.’

  ‘Now you are being hard on yourself,’ Kit said with mild reproach. ‘Can’t you try to be happy for him—for them both?’

  Serena nodded dumbly, sniffing back her tears and wiping her face with the back of her hand, unconsciously taking the handkerchief Kit suddenly produced and drying her tears, handing it back to him with a tremulous smile when she saw it was the one he had taken from her the first time they met. ‘I will try.’

  ‘That’s more like it. Now—go upstairs and make yourself presentable. Ludovick is coming to supper, and you know how taken he was with you when you met at Carberry Hall. I’m sure you don’t want to disappoint him.’

  ‘You told him I am here—in Scotland?’

  ‘He already knew. In the hope of seeing you, he called at Carberry Hall on his way north. Lord Carberry—who is extremely vexed at your disappearance—told him that you had left in some haste. When your uncle recounted Blackwell’s rendition of the events of the night you left and his encounter with us both at Dunedin Hall—how he tried to prevent you leaving, becoming injured in the affray which was all my doing—Ludovick knew you’d have come north with me.’

  ‘Did he tell my uncle this?’

  ‘No. Lord Carberry is under the assumption that we are both abroad.’

  Still holding her father’s letter, on a sigh Serena moved towards the door. ‘I shall go to my room and read my father’s letter before supper. No doubt you will do the same.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  The contents of her father’s letter had Serena reeling and dashing out of her room in search of Kit, with a speed surprising for someone who had a few moments before been in the throes of misery and despair. Kit had just finished reading his own letter from Sir Henry and awaited the outburst he felt sure would come at any moment. He did not have long to wait. Knowing exactly what Serena’s reaction would be when she read her father’s letter, he was not disappointed. If he’d wanted anything to draw her out of her melancholia, this was it.

  Whereas Serena had left him just a short time before in unhappy mood, she now burst into the room and faced him like a termagant, going to stand directly in front of him and waving the letter beneath his nose like a weapon of destruction. Kit saw rebellion in her eyes as she prepared to launch her attack—eyes which such a short time ago had been moist with tears. The mouth, which had been soft, sensitive and quivering, was now set in a hard line.

  With a raised dark eyebrow and an amused light in his eyes, Kit looked at her hostile face. ‘What the devil are you looking at me like that for? Dear Lord, Serena, must you glare at me like some infernal, threatening thundercloud?’

  ‘Have you read what my father has written?’

  ‘Of couse,’ he replied calmly.

  ‘Then would you be so kind as to tell me what you put in your letter to him that he should berate me so severely?’

  Kit shrugged. ‘Nothing untoward, I assure you.’

  ‘My father has appointed you as my guardian, since I took it upon myself to run away from Uncle William. He is extremely angry by my behaviour and, according to him, in your letter you told him that, on the strength of your friendship, you are willing, along with Lady Mary, to undertake my welfare.’

  ‘That is correct. But I did impress that it would only apply if, for some reason, he did not wish you to journey to him in Flanders.’

  Serena glared at him incredulously. ‘How dare you! You had no right.’

  ‘Considering the circumstances, I had every right—and your father clearly agrees.’

  ‘And did he tell you that he has strictly forbidden me to go to him?’

  ‘He did. But, considering he has taken his bride on honeymoon to Rome on a visit to your brother, there hardly seems much point,’ Kit murmured, his voice soft and deeply laced with humour, which provoked Serena to further anger.

  ‘Then let me tell you that I shall go. I shall go to Italy myself, if necessary, and you will not stop me.’

  ‘Calm down. You are beside yourself.’

  She responded with derisive sarcasm, ‘Aye, my lord, I’ll calm myself. Just as soon as you relinquish your stance as my guardian.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Serena, but I can’t allow you to roam at will until your father returns from his honeymoon.’

  Serena had great difficulty in refraining from stamping her foot in angry frustration. ‘Don’t taunt me with it, you—you churlish oaf. Isn’t it enough knowing he has married his paramour without you thrusting his honeymoon down my throat, too? You can’t keep me here in Scotland.’

  Kit brought his face closer to hers. ‘Believe me, Serena, if it were possible I would have you shipped to Flanders on the next available vessel and let your father deal with you. Little wonder he married—having suffered enough of your infernal carping and bleating over the years.’

  ‘Oh!’ Serena gasped, glaring with indignation at the hard light in Kit’s eyes. ‘You monster. You cannot force me to remain here.’

  ‘Yes, I can.’

  ‘I insist on leaving.’

  Kit’s black eyes seized hers in an unrelenting gaze. ‘You may insist all you like, but I will not stir. For the time being, you will accept the hospitality of this house and be grateful.’

  ‘Grateful? When you keep me here by force? Ha!’ Serena exclaimed with heavy sarcasm. ‘Your generosity overwhelms me.’

  ‘I apologise if you think I am forcing you to stay here.’

  ‘If you wish to make amends, you will allow me to leave.’

  ‘I always knew you were a courageous wench, and that you would bravely sally forth and to hell with the consequences, but I have every reason to believe your wits have deserted you.’ Kit stepped back, settling his gaze on her flaming cheeks and rapidly heaving bosom. ‘Be reasonable, Serena,’ he cajoled on a gentler note. ‘Your father is in Italy.’


  ‘Then that is where I shall go, or take lodgings close to James until he returns.’

  ‘No.’

  His blunt answer brought a scowl to her face. ‘And what will you do with me when you go to London?’

  ‘You will remain here with my mother and Melissa.’

  ‘Then you would do well to remember that I ran away from my uncle. I could just as easily run away from you, too.’

  ‘At your peril, madam.’

  ‘You cannot force me.’

  ‘Can I not?’ Kit looked at Serena with that faint amusement she had come to detest. It was the same amused but quelling look he would give a troublesome child. ‘Try me. You may not like my form of persuasion, which might be construed as harsh, but while you reside in this house you will do as I say.’

  ‘You beast. I have no wish to reside in this house—or any other house with you. I shall leave.’

  ‘Do so. But you would not care for the humiliation of being brought back. Your father has placed you under my care—and my mother’s. I advise you to remember that.’ Seeing the dejection on her lovely face, Kit sighed. ‘By my faith, Serena, please be sensible.’

  ‘Faith!’ she cried in frustration. ‘What faith? You are naught but a heretic.’

  Kit laughed infuriatingly. ‘And you, my little pious one, are the peskiest wench it has ever been my misfortune to meet, with a tongue comparable to a nest of wasps.’

  ‘Then take care you don’t get stung,’ Serena replied in spitting tones, turning from him, intending to leave, but he was behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder to halt her flight.

  ‘What a proud, foolish woman you are,’ he murmured softly. ‘Stay a moment, Serena.’

  ‘Why? So you can make a mockery of me, Lord Brodie?’ she seethed, feeling the heat of his body and his hot breath on her cheek, becoming desperately afraid that he would succeed in breaking down the barrier she had so skilfully raised between them. Her knowledge of this man had taught her that however strong her will, he had the infuriating ability to shatter it beneath the onslaught of his fervour. ‘Will you do me a great favour?’

  ‘Of course. You only have to ask. What is it?’

  ‘Go away—and stay away. Leave me alone.’

  ‘I will do anything you ask,’ Kit amended calmly, quietly, the fragrance of her silken tresses filling his mind, ‘but that.’

  Serena felt him move closer still and, despite her anger, there was nothing she could do to still the chaotic pounding of her heart. Her worries burgeoned when he gently drew her hair aside and dropped a warm kiss on her neck. She gasped at the feel of his lips on her flesh and the pleasurable sensations his kiss stirred.

  ‘Your father may have appointed me your guardian, but we could discuss the terms of my appointment,’ he murmured huskily.

  ‘Never,’ Serena answered, trying her utmost to retain her composure.

  Kit smiled, recognising in her answer the same kind of hostility when he had tried to negotiate with men in unfortunate circumstances. Exactly like those men Serena felt powerless, and in her pride felt the need to retaliate by making things as difficult as possible for him. ‘There’s no reason why matters should not be amicable between us, Serena. I feel there is a way we could make life more endurable—and pleasant.’

  Serena turned and looked at him warily. ‘Really! How?’

  ‘Like this,’ he murmured, pulling her close, his arms slipping easily about her and crushing her to him. Bending his dark head, he captured her mouth in a soft, compelling kiss, warming and penetrating to the depths of her being. His mouth forced her lips apart, his tongue teasing.

  Serena tried to turn her head, afraid that her will and her anger would crumble beneath his onslaught, but he held her in a gentle, but unyielding, grip, his hands boldly passing over her waist, her hips, possessively. For a moment her body responded eagerly, then mingled anger at his impertinence and horror at her own swift reaction caused her to stiffen in his arms.

  Kit dragged his lips from hers and looked down at her, noting the telltale flush on her cheeks. Serena could only stare at him as she listened to the chaotic pounding of her heart.

  ‘Please, don’t,’ she begged in a trembling voice, turning from him quickly, unable to look at him lest he saw the softening in her eyes. ‘I—I don’t think I like your terms.’

  Arching a lazy black eyebrow and smiling crookedly, Kit reached out and placed his fingers gently beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him. ‘You don’t? You gave a fair imitation of it.’

  The amusement in his voice made Serena’s blood boil. ‘How dare you kiss me in so casual, so cavalier a fashion—as if you own me. I would thank you not to repeat the offence,’ she retorted angrily.

  A wayward smile curved Kit’s lips, as he knew perfectly well that she was on the point of losing her resolve. ‘Very well. I realise I must take my new responsibilities seriously, so I shall try to restrain myself until a future date. But you will not always be hostile towards me, Serena. When I want something, I do not give up until I have it. The day will come when I will make you mine in every sense.’

  Meeting his eyes Serena realised he meant every word he said and that he would have no pity on her. She could only wonder at his mood as she struggled to maintain her anger. ‘And you, sir, are quite detestable and more conceited than I thought if you consider you have any claim on me.’ She glared up at the sparkling black eyes, but the heated words she was ready to utter were silenced by the interruption of Melissa’s feminine voice coming to them from the hall.

  ‘Please excuse me,’ Serena ground out. ‘I have to change for supper.’ With an imperious move she swept out of the room, her head held high.

  Still smiling, Kit watched her go, feeling nothing but admiration for her. The idea of making this woman his wife settled comfortably on his mind. Serena was a rarity indeed. Light and dark, tender and bold, fire and water. What more could a man want? Life would never be dull married to her.

  Serena tried to remove all traces of bad temper and smooth the lines of worry from her face for her meeting with Sir Ludovick. Moved to defy Kit, and by some feminine impulse to flirt with danger, she dressed in her finest gown, which set off her figure to perfection, and showed more of her décolletage than was seemly. She intended dealing Kit blow for blow for arrogantly assuming that he had every right to take charge of her life and order her about as he saw fit.

  She went down to the dining parlour with Melissa, who was well acquainted with their guest. Kit and Sir Ludovick stood before the fireplace, with Lady Mary sitting close by on a sofa.

  Serena swept into the room, looking regal in her deep rose-coloured gown, the sleeves slashed with ribbons of a paler hue, and the cuffs edged with fine lace. The firm stomacher displayed the slender curve of her waist, and the voluminous skirts had been drawn over a fathingale. She scorned the wearing of a ruff, having adorned her neck instead with a single strand of creamy pearls. Her hair was drawn from her face by a simple broad band of ribbon over the top of her head, and allowed to hang free in heavy waves down the length of her curving spine.

  Kit’s gaze studied her closely and he nodded ever so slightly, happy to see she had regained her composure. But then she was as fickle and changeable as a chameleon, which had the ability to change its colour at will. He really should not have expected anything else from the minx. It didn’t take him long to realise that she was going out of her way to avoid looking at him, and a small, lazy smile crept across his handsome face.

  Ludovick, splendidly garbed in sapphire blue doublet and puffed trunk hose, stepped forward to greet them—Melissa first, who bobbed a little curtsy and told him how delighted she was to see him again.

  ‘My dear Melissa,’ he declared. ‘You grow fairer each time I see you. It’s difficult to believe you are sister to this reprobate,’ he said in light-hearted reference to Kit. ‘I hear from Lady Mary that a certain event might be taking place in the near future,’ he murmured with a conspiratorial lowering
of an eyelid, ‘that a certain gentleman from Perth has become quite smitten by you.’

  ‘And you, sir,’ Melissa accused with a smile and a twinkle in her dark eyes, ‘are as big a tease as you ever were. You ply your tongue with the skill of an accomplished flatterer—but I have no mind to become one of your conquests. No doubt you will bestow similar prose on Serena,’ she laughed, taking Serena’s hand and drawing her forward.

  Ludovick grinned broadly, turning his full attention on Serena. ‘My dear, Mistress Carberry—Serena, if I may be so bold,’ he enthused, placing a hand to his chest and making a gallant bow. ‘I can’t tell you how astounded I was to learn you had taken flight with Kit. You must have been quite desperate.’

  ‘I was,’ she laughed, watching Kit out of the corner of her eye.

  ‘He has been taking care of you, I hope?’

  ‘Of course,’ she replied pleasantly, admiring Sir Ludovick’s fine attire and going out of her way to ignore Kit. ‘But let me assure you that I am quite capable of taking care of myself.’

  ‘Aye, I’m sure you are. And I see you are just as lovely as I remember,’ Ludovick complimented, making small effort to subdue the delight that shone in his eyes as he appraised her.

  ‘And Melissa was right when she told you you are an accomplished flatterer,’ Serena laughed. ‘Are you to stay long in Edinburgh?’

  ‘Long enough to become better acquainted with you, Serena. I’m in no hurry to leave for Argyllshire. I could not believe my good fortune when I realised I would have the pleasure of seeing you in Edinburgh. Do you like Scotland?’

  ‘Well enough—at least what I’ve seen of it. I would fare better if I understood the dialect. Not all Scots are as easy to understand as yourself.’

  ‘Since the Scots are renowned for their cursing, most of it would be unrepeatable if you could,’ he laughed jovially. ‘Whilst I am in Edinburgh I shall act as your translator, allowing only what I think is suitable to pass your delicate ears.’