“Yes, just a bruise or two.” She caressed his cheek tenderly, savoring the feel of his whiskered, roughened skin under her palm. “Thank you for coming to my rescue. Freddie will be a mass of bruises and in a lot of pain by morning, I’m sure.”
“I did warn the chap not to touch you.”
“Thank you,” she repeated.
“You’re welcome.” He craned his neck to get a look at his wound, pushing her hands out of the way. She tried to reapply the compress to the wound. “Doesn’t look too bad. Hurts like hell though.”
“Mr. Jensen has called for a doctor.” Kitty wrung the cloth out in the bowl of water Jensen brought to her and reapplied it to the seeping wound. She had been terrified when Jack collapsed, whether it had been from pain or shock she wasn’t sure. “You’ve lost quite a bit of blood, but I don’t think the wound is too serious. It will need to be stitched though.”
“I passed out over this? How humiliating,” he sighed, and lay back against the settee cushions.
“If it helps at all, I don’t think you were completely unconscious.”
“No?”
“No,” she assured him. “It was more as if you were deeply inebriated. You helped me lay you down and mumbled on and on about how you were going to avenge yourself on Freddie.”
“I will, too.” Damn right he would! Sniveling almost-back-stabber would get what was coming to him in spades…as soon as he could swing a hard right again without bleeding. Jack looked up at Kitty hovering over him with concern. It was nice to have someone care for your well-being, he thought. Well, other than a sister. Kitty brushed his hair back from his brow and kissed his forehead. Aye, definitely better than a sister.
After dinner that evening, Kitty sat in the sitting room on Fifth Avenue with her mother, reading a book while her mother worked on a bit of embroidery. Jack had tried to come down for dinner, determined, Kitty knew, to assure them he was unharmed. When Eve announced her desire to retire for the evening, claiming nausea and fatigue, she had bullied him up the stairs before her, stating that even if he didn’t need the rest, Jack was exhausting the rest of them just by looking at him.
Kitty was thankful for Eve’s intervention, as she knew Jack had to be in a great deal of pain after his ordeal and merely putting on a show of indifference. Francis followed his wife up, leaving Maggie and Kitty alone.
The ticking of the clock passed the minutes slowly as Kitty scanned the novel in her hand, too distracted by the events of the day to pay it any real attention. Her mother’s voice broke the oppressive silence of the room.
“Is there any chance you will tell me what is going on?”
Kitty lowered her book to find her mother still focused on her stitching, and looking for all the world as she hadn’t a care in the world beyond that. “What do you mean, Mother?”
“Don’t play innocent with me, young lady!” Maggie set her work in her lap and delivered her daughter a look that would have had her confessing all as a child. “What is going on between you and Lord Haddington?”
Nonchalantly waving her book, Kitty offered breezily. “I told you before, Mother, the earl is a friend of Glenrothes. They grew up together. Now he is a friend of mine, and Eve’s as well.”
“Friend, indeed! That doesn’t explain many things, including why he’s here, why he looks at you as he does, or why he stood to your defense against Mr. Hayes,” her mother sniffed, awaiting a more reasonable reply.
Remembering how Eve had said Jack looked at her as if he wanted to eat her up, Kitty couldn’t help but blush, wondering if her own mother saw the same.
“Or, more to the point,” Maggie went on, “it doesn’t explain why you looked so distraught when you arrived home from Mr. Jensen’s office. Come, my girl, confess. There is more going on here than simple friendship.”
Stubbornly, Kitty shook her head in denial. “He is my friend.”
“That is why you fussed over him all evening and why he appeared so pleased by your concern?” Maggie wrinkled her nose. “I know you refuse to consider it, my dear, but I do know a thing or two about romance.”
“Mother!” Kitty straightened in her chair. “It is not a romance!”
“Pish-posh, Katherine,” her mother dismissed her protest. “Fine then, you don’t have to say anything but I know what I see, and what I see is not friendship alone. That man wants more and I’m just curious if you are planning to give it to him.”
Kitty moaned into her hands. “Mother…please!”
“I can see I will get nothing further from you on the subject so I will only say that having another earl as a son-in-law could be nothing but beneficial to me, since I will soon be subjected to the scandal your divorce from Mr. Hayes will bring,” the older woman went on. “Have you any news on that front from Mr. Jensen?”
“Yes, Mr. Jensen told me today that the divorce should be finalized in a matter of days,” Kitty confessed, grateful for the change of subject. “Did you…do you understand why I am doing this, Mother? I assure you that it is not solely to torture you.”
Though her initial telegram had laid out the problem in only the most basic terms, given the lack of privacy involved with telegraph use, Kitty had written her parents a letter right away, explaining her reasons for the divorce so they might truly understand her needs. Though it had been easier to write the words than say them, she had not been able to go into any detail, providing instead just a general summation of her marriage; that Freddie was prone to violence through the years of their marriage and Kitty feared for herself and the Prestons’ granddaughter. Much had been left unsaid.
Maggie Preston met her daughter’s gaze levelly, showing she was aware of the truth, the flighty society matron now tucked away beneath concern for her child for the moment. “Yes, we received your letter a couple weeks after your sister first wired Mr. Preston with your request to start the divorce. I am sorry that your marriage was not a pleasant one, Katherine. Neither your father nor I had any idea things were not good between you. You should have come to us sooner.”
“I couldn’t.” Kitty’s gaze slid away. “It’s just too…”
“I understand.” Maggie cleared her throat awkwardly. “Is there anything in particular you would like me to know?”
Wishing that she might put it into words, Kitty merely shook her head.
“Well, best to put it all behind you now, though you still have the scandal to face and that will be no easy task. But I will stand by you, I promise you, as difficult as it will be,” her mother vowed.
“Thank you, Mother.”
“I love you, Katherine. Very much,” Maggie said softly. “I hope you know that.”
“Oh, Mother!” Kitty sighed, and slipped off her chair to the floor at her mother’s feet, resting her head in Maggie’s lap as her arms slipped around her. “I love you too, Mama.”
“I still think there is more than meets the eye with this earl though.” She chuckled under her breath. “I wager he would make a fabulous lover for you.”
“Mama! Really!”
Chapter 27
The very instant that I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service; there resides,
To make me slave to it.
…mine unworthiness, that dare not offer
What I desire to give, and much less take,
What I shall die to want.
- William Shakespeare, The Tempest
Near Kilberry Manor
Newport, Rhode Island
The next afternoon
The jolting of the carriage, as they turned off the main cobbled street of Newport and unto the graveled Ochre Point Avenue, sent another unwelcome jolt of pain through Jack’s injured shoulder. Stifling a hiss of pain, he surreptitiously rubbed the bandaged wound in a vain attempt to ease the discomfort.
The morning had been a long one already. Though the entry point of the wound was small, the real trauma was quite penetrating, damaging muscle tissue deep within. The doctor Jensen called upon ha
d stitched it up nicely but Jack refused both a trip to the hospital and the laudanum the physician offered to numb the misery.
He now regretted his masculine insistence that the injury was but a scratch and that he needed nothing to kill the pain. He had done so to ease the worry in Kitty’s eyes. Easily done when lying immobile on a couch, but every movement since then had stoked the fire raging in his shoulder. Haddington managed his nonchalant ruse through dinner and an abbreviated evening’s conversation at Mrs. Preston’s Fifth Avenue home but, by the time he gained his bed, was far gone with agony.
Kitty’s clever Chinaman must have seen through him at some point, for the ancient little man arrived at his bedside with an herbal brew that lessened the burning pain and allowed him a measure of sleep.
Morning had brought activity once more. A carriage ride full of stops and starts to the Grand Central Station, a riotous hub of activity such as Jack had never seen, where they boarded the Preston’s private Pullman car for the short rail trip to Newport. Despite the car’s fine amenities, nothing could stop the constant sway and jerking typical of that sort of travel.
Now, they were in carriages again for the final leg of the journey to Kilberry Manor. He had moved on from discomfort to real torment as he was jolted again and again over the uneven road.
He could only hope Sung Li would again come to his aid, lest he be forced to beg at the old man’s feet for relief. Never again would he allow his male pride to deny him the pain-dulling euphoria laudanum might have allowed him.
Though he tried to mask it, a measure of his misery must have shown on his face. “Are you certain you are quite all right, Lord Haddington?” Maggie Preston asked, voicing the same concern he had seen flitting across Kitty’s face all morning. While he had tried to offer her an occasional smile and reassurance to distract her from his distress – he was a man, after all – it never occurred to him that her mother might notice as well.
“I am very well, madam, though I thank you for your worries on my behalf,” he lied smoothly, and changed the subject. “This area is quite lovely.”
Not a lie, as this part of Rhode Island was indeed very appealing. As they traveled south from the train station, he could see glimpses of the bay, and the Atlantic beyond, to his right. The smell of the sea air was strong, the gulls called and the sun shone brightly that summer day. While the rugged landscape was somewhat reminiscent of the Highlands, the colors of the foliage and flowers and the heat of the day were unlike any summer he had ever known.
Jack rode in the rear-facing seat with Francis and Laurie, with the women across from them and the top down. Though the ocean breeze ruffled his hair, the heat of the sun beat mercilessly down on his head and shoulders, making him a bit envious of the ladies and their parasols, though wee Hannah kept pulling off her wide-brimmed straw hat in favor of the gentle breeze blowing through her curly mane. Wishing he might do the same, Jack realized it might take a highlander a period of adjustment before such radiant heat became tolerable. Noticing Francis tugging at his stiff collar, Jack went a step further, removing his handkerchief and dabbing the sweat from his brow.
Mistaking the action, a wrinkle of worry creased Kitty’s brow. “Are you sure you aren’t becoming feverish, Jack? The doctor did warn of infection.”
“Not at all, Kitty.” He grinned ruefully at her. “As much as I am loathe to admit it, to ease your concerns, I must say I find it damned hot here! Your pardon, madam,” he apologized to Maggie for his language, while Eve clucked her tongue with clear disapproval.
However, Kitty couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter that rose in her throat. “Of course! That never occurred to me! I was ever so cold when I was in Scotland! I should have realized that you might find our Newport summers to be a bit stifling.”
“A bit?” His eyebrows rose at her understatement, while MacKintosh openly snorted. But Jack enjoyed her renewed giggle. The sound was a balm to him after seeing her sadness and tears through the last few weeks. Seeing her eyes once again alight with laughter and amusement brought a lift to his soul that bemused him even while it elated him. He tried not to think too hard about what it meant.
He didn’t even notice Maggie Preston’s calculating assessment of their exchange.
“Ah,” Eve said, when they finally turned off the sparsely populated lane and through a magnificent iron gate flanked by towering stone pillars and an impressive gatehouse. “Here we are, then.”
Curious to see the home of which Kitty spoke so affectionately, Jack joined Francis as they craned their necks around to take a look…and was immediately glad the women could not see his expression, for he was certain the stupefaction he felt upon seeing the Prestons’ summer ‘cottage’ was clearly writ on his face.
To his consternation, he found himself flabbergasted by the place. Growing up as a child at Glen Sannox House, Jack had always been dazzled by its immense proportions, sure it was the grandest old castle on the face of the earth. Now he was fairly certain it might fit in the west wing of Kilberry Manor, with room to spare.
Sparing a look for his friend, Jack was gratified to note that Glenrothes, whose estates far outweighed those of Haddington, was equally taken aback by the marvel before them.
Passing through the ornate iron gates, tall willows framed the spectacle that was Kilberry Manor. The wide, paved drive led to the stone mansion, which was set at an angle rather than perpendicular to the drive, allowing one to truly feel its immense proportions. In the center of the front court’s circular drive, a large Italianate fountain sat spraying its water in every direction, reflecting in the sun in a vain attempt to gain the notice of visitors who might only stare in awe at the building beyond. The detail and attention that had gone into its façade were impressive, the architectural detail remarkable, with intricate stonework and ornate iron balconies. To the right of the building, a pillared rotunda extended from that wing, fanning out into a grid of paved pathways that bordered a formal garden of flowers, hedges and shrubbery that might have rivaled the Queen’s own gardens. And he thought Kitty might be awed by the botanical gardens at home! More the fool, he.
Indeed, a feeling descended upon Haddington unlike any he had ever encountered in his life. It took such time to identify that their carriage was pulling to a halt under the covered portico before he could put a name to it.
Inadequacy.
It was most humbling.
“What do you think, Jack?” He turned to find Kitty eagerly awaiting his reaction. Though he thought she might take some amusement in seeing him so floored by what rose before him, she seemed only hopeful he might like the place. What was not to like?
“Very nice,” he said in gross understatement as he and Francis leapt down after a footman opened the carriage door and turned to assist the ladies and children. “I look forward to seeing the rest of it.”
“I’ll give you a tour myself,” she beamed, as she hefted a sleepy Hannah into her arms. “Let me just see to Hannah while you are shown your room and I will meet you in the hall in, say, fifteen minutes, all right?”
Jack only nodded as she entered the house and followed Mrs. Preston into the main hall. Slowly, he tilted his head up, up until his eyes found the arched ceiling of colorful stained glass, four stories above.
“My God,” Francis swore, causing Jack to start. A bevy of footman raced around them as the wagon following them stopped before the mansion, emptying its cargo of nursemaids, Sung Li and their many trunks of luggage. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” his friend whistled, turning about to take it all in, much as Haddington was.
“You know I have not,” he said only.
“Makes you wonder what you have to offer a lass who has all this, eh?” Francis continued, not realizing how that statement hit home for his friend.
Though MacKintosh might have meant the question rhetorically, Haddington only understood that was the problem exactly. Kitty already had everything a woman might want. Fine homes, expensive wardrobes, jewels,
money. Anything she didn’t already have could be hers on the merest whim. The only thing he could offer her as an impoverished Scottish lord was his title, and she had already disdained gaining that.
There was nothing he could give her. Nothing.
“So what do you think of Kilberry, Lord Haddington?” Maggie Preston asked the earl that evening as they dined en famille on the rear patio. The hot day had turned into a pleasant evening, with the breeze from the ocean to cool away any lingering discomfort.
She was curious of Kitty’s relationship with this man who she had been assured again and again was but a friend. Maggie didn’t believe it for a second. No man looked at a woman as Haddington did her daughter without wanting more. As overjoyed as she was that Eve had found love (and a title) in her second husband, after seeing the interaction between Kitty and Haddington she had decided another earl as a son-in-law would be just the thing for the Preston family…if the earl could be brought up to snuff.
Haddington watched Kitty’s mother assess him thoughtfully, knowing he was being summed up and found satisfactory. He had to bite back a grin of amusement, for normally the mothers who did the same were dragons of society completely unlike Maggie Preston. He certainly could see where Eve and Kitty had gained their beauty. For a woman nearing fifty, Maggie was still very lovely, with hair still the same honeyed gold as her daughters’ and a smooth, unlined face. Her smile was very much like Kitty’s, with its hint of deviltry. She was slim, shorter than her tall, willowy daughters, but not petite. Her eyes were brown though, causing Jack to assume Kitty’s bright green eyes came from her father. Hannah got her mischievous dimple from this woman though. He could see that trouble would clearly follow the wee miss through her years.
“It has everything you might ever need,” Jack responded politely. “One might never have to leave.”
Sensing, rather than hearing, the sarcasm of the statement, Kitty’s brow wrinkled. “You don’t like it?”
Questions for a Highlander Page 77