Jude sifted away, leaving George alone in the shade of the maple. He stared at the majestic outline of the Thornton mansion, longing for Monday when Katherine would be here, safe within his walls. He couldn’t wait till then to see her again.
Immediately, he sifted away and reappeared in her corridor right outside her doorway with a resounding snap. He winced, hoping no one heard. The electricity from sifting could often culminate into sound if he sifted too quickly. When no one entered the hallway, he tried her door. It was open, which angered him, knowing her worthless husband could take liberties with her if he so chose. Thankfully, he was preoccupied at his heinous club at Calliban’s.
What was he doing for Calliban? Procuring the women forcefully? Luring them away with threats or coercion or charm? He’d seen Clyde Blakely in action at the Weathersby ball, when he was captivating the ladies present. They flocked to him, never knowing the dark depravity of the man.
He closed the door quietly behind him and stepped toward her canopied bed, then stopped breathing. Behind the transparent drapery lay the goddess of his dreams. Her fair hair spilled across the pillow and over one bare shoulder where her shift had slipped. One leg lay outside the coverlet, revealing pale flesh and the perfect curve of her hip. Bathed in moon shadows, she looked like an otherworldly queen. Her chest rose and fell in silent sleep. Her sweet face turned toward the window, as if welcoming the moon’s radiance, which enhanced her beauty beyond compare.
She was breathtaking. Utterly breathtaking. He couldn’t force himself to leave her side. How could any man not cherish such a treasure? Fury lanced him again at the thought of Clyde forcing himself on her and abusing her. He made a vow on the spot. He knew his course from here.
No matter how long it took, he would convince her of his love. For indeed, there was no longer a need to pretend it was anything else. George would free her of her ghastly husband, for Clyde Blakely was the cause of her misery and could only bring more. George would be her knight, whether she wanted one or not, no matter what happened. No matter if she spurned him and rejected his love, he would love her still and be her protector…forever.
Chapter Ten
The entire carriage ride over to Thornton, Katherine’s stomach fluttered like a giddy girl’s. She chastised herself for feeling this way and wore her most staid expression as if none of this mattered at all. But she couldn’t fool Jane.
“You can pretend all you like,” said Jane, sitting right next to her, their maids seated quietly across from them. “But I know you.”
“Hush, Jane,” she chastised, “and you had better be on your best behavior or your mother will never let me chaperone you anywhere again. I’m quite shocked she let you come at all, since she was unable.”
Jane laughed. “She trusts you implicitly.”
“And you too, I see. Your poor mother.”
“Don’t tease, Katherine. And wipe that frown away. We’re going to have the most marvelous time.” She leaned toward the carriage window. “Oh look! We’re here.”
They’d turned in the gate and rounded the curve of maple trees lining the entrance.
“Heavens, how beautiful,” said Jane. “Now you can’t be nonchalant about that, Katherine.”
No, she couldn’t. She leaned toward the window and admired the expansive grounds and stunning mansion. As the carriage rolled into the circular drive, she caught a peek at well-manicured gardens along the back of the house. She loved gardens. But she loved the sight of the man with the auburn hair and the heart-melting smile standing on the portico even more.
“Lord Thornton looks smashing, doesn’t he?”
“He does,” she couldn’t help but admit.
When they came to a stop, their coachman quickly opened the door and helped the ladies down. George stepped forward to greet his newest guests.
“Ladies,” he said, reaching for Jane’s hand first, “you are welcome to Thornton.”
He released Jane after a brief kiss, then held out his hand for Katherine’s. He held her longer with a firm grip and lingered. When his finger slipped across the bare skin of her wrist as he released her, she knew it was on purpose. His smile told her so. She arched a brow at him for taking liberties, though she enjoyed the liberty all the same.
“What a splendid home,” said Katherine. “Will we be getting a tour later on?”
“Certainly.” He led them through the front door. “Once all the guests have arrived. Ladies, this is Duncan. If there is anything you need, he is at your service.”
Duncan bowed as they passed through the entrance. “Thank you,” said Katherine with a nod. Jane did the same.
“My lady,” replied Duncan.
And she thought he actually smiled, which was very out of character for a butler. It made her wonder if George had spoken of her. A new panic gripped her. What if one of the guests detected her growing feelings for their host? What if they sensed there was more between them than amity? What if one reported back to her husband?
“Lady Katherine, are you feeling well?” asked George at her side.
“Yes,” she said with a bit too much enthusiasm. “I’m fine. Just fine. It was a longer ride than I expected is all.”
“I see.” He frowned. “Orville here will take you to your rooms so that you might relax till dinner. As many are arriving at different times, we’ll join in the front parlor before the gong at eight.”
“Thank you, Lord Thornton,” said Jane. “That sounds perfect. We’ll be settled and refreshed by then.”
Katherine smiled but quickly followed the footman lest the servants catch her ogling their master. Servants’ gossip was often the end of one’s reputation with no more than a lingering look between two unmarried gentry. Should she have come? Was this a mistake? As she topped the stairs, she stole a glance at the man watching them go, hands clasped at his back. Another flutter she felt straight to the heart.
No. This was no mistake. And if it was, let her be damned for it. Still, she would tread carefully. They followed Orville down a bright, spacious hallway to the corner bedroom, typically the largest on a floor.
“Here you are, ladies. Lord Thornton chose the connecting suite for you.”
“How thoughtful,” cooed Jane as she swept in first. “Oh my. This is absolutely lovely.”
Lovely was the least of it. Stunning was more accurate. Decorated in hues of pale blue, accented with black, from the draperies to the silken coverlet to the damask chair by the fireplace, the room dripped with elegance.
“This is for Miss Karroway,” said Orville. “And through here is the chamber Lord Thornton chose for Lady Katherine.”
While Jane whirled from one pretty table to the next, inspecting the chintz and beautiful accessories, Katherine stepped into the adjoining room and gasped. The first was elegant. But this room was beyond imagining.
Accented in shades of palest pink and cream, the room was a picture of genteel sophistication at its finest. The cherrywood bed had an ivy-carved headboard, which swirled and curved to a soft peak. Shiny gossamer draped softly over the canopy in perfect harmony. The bedding looked too divine to lay one’s head upon the pillow. Or should she say pillows, for there were no fewer than ten in all shapes and sizes piled at the head.
White marble framed a tall fireplace. A delicate mantel, also of white marble, held nothing more than a row of books and a Rococo-style vase upon which a man and woman embraced in a waltz. Above the mantel hung an oil painting of a beautiful woman sitting upon a horse on a hill. She peered into the distance, her mind deep in thought. Katherine stepped closer and smiled. He hinted at their dance, her love of books and her love of riding, to be sure. Or it was all a striking coincidence. She wanted to believe it certainly was not.
“I hope this meets with your approval,” said Orville.
Katherine didn’t hide her happiness, knowing the footman was most probably
required to report back to the master of the house.
She beamed brightly and said, “I could live in this room forever.”
Uncharacteristically, the footman cracked his stoic façade with a quirk of the lips to one side and bowed. “Lord Thornton will be pleased to hear you say so.”
He departed while Katherine perused the rest of the room, utterly enthralled with all the finery. A silver candelabra decorated a white vanity in the corner with a tall, wide mirror for the lady who sat here. A silver hairbrush and comb, polished bright, sat at a perfect angle atop the vanity. She removed her gloves and trailed her fingers over the white cushion where she would sit and do her grooming each morning and night, wondering what it would be like if she did actually live here. Melancholy gripped her for the briefest of moments, but she turned away from her reality and walked to the French doors leading to a balcony. She opened one door and let the afternoon breeze waft into the room. The rolling hills were fine for riding. She’d brought her riding attire in the hope she’d have the chance.
“Oh my,” said Jane at the entrance. Jane strode in and took a turn about the room, stopping in front of the fireplace. “He is in love with you, Katherine.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I am not. I am being quite serious. I know you eschew my teasing, but tread carefully, for this poor man’s heart is wrapped up in every fine detail.”
“How can you say that? It is just a room.”
But it was not.
“Katherine darling, don’t be a fool. You best let the poor man know he doesn’t stand a chance if this is how you feel, because it’s quite clear he’s in complete and total rapture.”
“But he does stand a chance,” she whispered before stepping out onto the balcony.
Jane rushed after her, skirts rustling. “What did you say?”
Katherine sat on a wrought-iron chair with a cushion embroidered with red roses. “You heard me quite clearly.”
“So I thought.” Jane sat opposite her. “So you do care for him.”
Katherine smiled again, the second time in a matter of minutes, a genuinely happy smile, not the false one she wore for parties. “I do.”
Jane sighed deeply and clutched her hands to her chest.
“Oh, stop all that. We’re not eloping to Gretna Green, for heaven’s sake.”
“Well, you should.”
“Jane, really.”
“I know Clyde is not good to you. I know he’s worse than you let on.”
Katherine turned to the wide landscape, breathing in the lovely view as the sun slipped lower behind the woodlands in the distance.
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” continued Jane.
Though the girls had been dear friends for a long time, Katherine would never burden Jane with the knowledge of what kind of man Clyde truly was.
“But, Katherine,” she said in earnest, grasping her friend’s hand, “if you can find some happiness with him, I would never in a million years hold it against you. I would not think ill of you for it.”
Katherine welcomed her approval, even though she never thought herself to be the kind of woman who would engage in an extramarital affair. Of course, she never thought she’d marry a man like Clyde either. And there was no certainty that an affair would take place. They had never even kissed, for that matter.
“There’s no guarantee the man is even interested.”
“Oh, please—”
“Pardon me, ladies.” A stout woman with cherry cheeks stepped onto the room. “I’m the housekeeper, Mrs. Baxter. We’ve brought up some refreshments for you. Go on, Sally.” She waved a maid past her who carried a tray of creamy sandwiches and a pot of tea with two cups and saucers. “Lord Thornton thought you could do with something to eat while you settle in.”
“Why, thank you,” said Jane.
“How kind of him,” agreed Katherine. “Please tell him we appreciate his thoughtfulness.”
Mrs. Baxter gave her a nod. “Of course, my dear. Now if there is anything you need at all, be sure to find me, and I’ll take care of it straight away.”
The shy maid dipped a curtsy and scooted off the balcony with the housekeeper behind her. Jane arched a brow at Katherine and grinned like a fiend.
“Not interested?” With all the arrogance she could muster in her expression and manners, she began to pour the tea. “Prepare yourself, my friend. The man is utterly besotted.”
Katherine dove into the sandwiches so she wouldn’t have to speak another word. As it was, she had no idea what to say. If Lord Thornton treated her in any special way in front of the guests, she would be ruined. But Katherine knew him to be a better man than that. He was a better man than many. Than the best of men. She leaned back in the chair and sipped her tea, gazing out at the golden view. Smiling.
Chapter Eleven
Katherine and Jane descended the stairs a half an hour before the gong for dinner—early enough to meet the party and late enough to be fashionable. If Jane had had it her way, they would have been down a full hour earlier, but Katherine stalled. Despite her eagerness, she was also anxious that someone would detect her feelings through her behavior around Lord Thornton. She had managed to fool everyone into believing she was a happily married woman, so why couldn’t she fool them into believing she was completely disinterested in the gallant, fascinating, elegant, gorgeous Lord George Thornton?
There was a pause in chatter when they entered the room. Katherine wore her party smile and scanned the room, noting Lord Thornton stepping toward them.
“Good evening, ladies. Did you find everything to your liking?”
“Thank you ever so much for assigning us the joining rooms, Lord Thornton,” said Jane. “The two of us are usually inseparable, so now you’ve made it more convenient for us to stay up all night.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Miss Karroway. Though I hope you will get some rest while under my roof.”
“Oh, Jane! I did not know you were coming. How wonderful!”
Penelope Greene bustled across the parlor. Katherine refrained from rolling her eyes. Penelope was the most incorrigible flirt and annoying person that she knew. She tossed around her overly voluptuous frame as if she were the queen of the country wherever she went. Lord knew she had probably come in hopes of landing Lord Thornton for a husband. She’d been on the market for five Seasons with no luck yet.
“Lord Thornton, you did not tell me you had invited my dear Miss Karroway,” she said, swatting him playfully with her fan. “She is my dearest friend.”
Lie. Katherine focused on Jane to avoid making a comment. Penelope’s friend Marjorie moped at her side, being dismissed as the second dearest friend, apparently.
To his merit, George ignored the absurd flirtation with the fan. “I am pleased you have another friend among our company. Though it seems you have quite a few dear friends.”
She swatted him again. Katherine was sure he winced. “Oh, Lord Thornton, how you tease me. Yes, I do have quite a few dear friends.” She glanced at Katherine and, with a slight upturn of her nose, greeted her. “But they’re not all here. Hello, Katherine.”
“Hello, Penelope. It is good to see you.”
“I am sure that it is. Now, Jane, you must come and meet Mr. Delacroix. He’s French. And one of our dear host’s guests from abroad. There he is, over there…”
Katherine remained in place, calm and serene, fully accustomed to Penelope snubbing her in public. George did not seem to notice. Or he pretended that he didn’t.
“And you, Lady Katherine?” George let his voice roll low and soft. “Did you find everything to your liking?”
“I did, as a matter of fact.” She cleared her throat. “Especially the details around the fireplace.”
The gong sounded.
“May I escort you into dinner?”
He
offered his arm. It would be rude to do anything but accept him as escort, though she hoped he hadn’t placed her next to him at the table. It would be obvious to everyone he was showing her favor.
The party of about a dozen strolled across the hall into the formal dining room, falling in line as hierarchy demanded. George let her go when they entered the dining room and found his own place at the head. Mr. Parsons—one of the bachelors who frequented all the balls of the Season but never seemed to woo a lady to the altar—escorted Penelope to the seat at the right of Lord Thornton, then sat next to her. Penelope’s mother, Lady Mable, took the seat opposite her daughter. It was true they outranked all the other women in the party without Lady Helene present, which only rankled Katherine further. She wasn’t sure how she would bear watching Penelope simper after George all night while she took her place midway down the table
Katherine’s confidence faltered. She wondered if her feelings had run away with her good sense. Perhaps she had imagined all his attentions. After all, she was a married woman. What more could he want but a short, unlawful affair? What did she want, if anything? She was driving herself mad. Chaos whirled inside her chest as she wrestled too many conflicting thoughts and emotions, but she remained true to her lady’s upbringing. Her father would expect no less. “Never let them see you down, my dear,” he used to say. And she had heeded his advice ever since.
“Lady Katherine, how delightful to see you again,” said Mr. Delacroix, George’s dark and roguish companion at Hyde Park. He was seated on her right.
“Hello, Mr. Delacroix. Have you found your stay in England pleasant so far?”
“Quite. However, the climate is more biting here than in France.”
“Very much like society, I imagine.”
Jude chuckled and turned to the consommé that had been served to all. “I would not venture to insult English society.”
“Well, if you find it biting now, wait until deep winter. Very bitter.” Katherine spooned her broth, which was quite good.
The Deepest Well Page 9