Kate did not overhear this exchange. She boarded the coach after he was settled, sitting opposite him. Leaning out the window, she called to Johnny on the box above them, “Spring the horses!”
Waving good-bye to Polly and Potter, Kate promised they would return.
When they had traveled for perhaps a quarter of an hour in silence, she finally said, “This is quite a different experience than coming here. I cannot imagine what would have become of me had you not rescued me, Jack. If I have not thanked you, I do so now.”
“You owe far more to Johnny. It was he who thought of the stunt with the firecrackers.”
“He is a clever young man, I think. Do you have any need for his cleverness on your estate?”
“Hmm. I will think on it.” He coughed and tried to look indifferently out of the window. “How soon do you wish to be married?”
“I should like for my bruises to disappear. Does it have to be a society wedding, Jack?”
“I thought every woman wished for a big wedding.”
“Not I. I am ruined, remember? I think we should marry as soon I’m fit to be seen and as quietly as possible.”
“All right.”
He tried to maintain a cool façade, but found he could not do so while looking at her. Even in the dress that had seen many days’ wear, and without a maid to dress her hair, she was still desirable. She was no silly miss, simpering in ruffles and furbelows. No. Kate’s attraction lay not only in her physical assets, but in her vivacity, her joi d’vivre, her resourcefulness. Since their decision to marry, it had reasserted itself. Aye, she was going to be a handful, and no mistake.
“Would you mind telling me about your adventure, Jack? How did you find out that Walsingham was a traitor?”
“Well, as a matter of fact, I’ve been spending rather a lot of time lately in your home county.”
“Devonshire?”
“Yes. Walsingham was passing secrets to the brandy smugglers, who passed them to their French confederates.”
He proceeded to relate how his investigation had passed from theory to capture.
“Just exactly where on the Devon coast were you?” she asked at the conclusion of his story.
“A little hamlet called Budleigh Salterton.”
Her eyes grew round in surprise. “But that is not two miles from where I grew up! What a strange coincidence.”
“Beautiful country. Did you often go walking on the cliffs?”
“Yes! I miss it so much, Jack. London is so dirty and society is so limiting. I feel hemmed in on all sides. I used to climb down the path near our house to the beach itself. There are a great many interesting creatures in the tide pools, and I loved to watch the seagulls fish in the water. There are caves as well.”
She looked so happy and energetic with her memories, talking with her hands.
“It must have been hard to lose your home,” he said.
“Yes. Perhaps after we are . . . well, after we are married, we might pay Cousin Freddie a visit, and I could show you my special places. There is one particular cave that I have claimed for my own. I miss the tenants on the estate, as well. There are some particularly adorable children. We had a summer fete each year, and I was in charge of games.” She smiled, obviously visiting happy memories. “I have many paintings stored there that I should like to retrieve. Some were even painted in Italy.”
“Tell me about Francesco,” he said, striving to sound offhand.
All at once, Kate became stiff and her expression guarded. Jack turned to study the passing view.
“What do you wish to know?”
“He lives in Florence?”
“Yes.”
“Why did your father stipulate that you were not to marry?”
“He is Catholic.”
“Of course,” Jack was frustrated with her minimalist answers after her earlier loquaciousness. “You must have been quite young, not yet out.”
“I was.”
He looked at her again. Her lips were set in a straight line.
“He is an artist?”
“A fine sculptor.”
“Does he expect to marry you?”
She was silent, but looked down at her lap. “I would have given up my inheritance to marry Francesco. He is a young but wealthy count. However, there is Joey.”
“You could not have taken over the boy’s guardianship if you married him?”
“Correct. It is all spelled out in the Horrible Will.”
He was moved, in spite of himself. “You must love Joey very much.”
“I do. My mother died when I was twelve. Two years later, Papa was remarried to my stepmother. Joey was just out of short coats.” She avoided his eyes, turning her head to look out the window, biting her lower lip. When she continued, he could tell she was fighting tears. “He is my only sibling, and I am very attached to him. And protective, as well. I can only imagine the hazing he is undergoing at Eton because of his stutter. My cousin Freddie is terribly unfeeling. He sent him there when I came to London.”
This little speech surprised him very much. That she could give up the man she supposedly loved, out of love for her step-sibling, spoke of deep sensibility and loyalty. Kate was always surprising him.
Leaning forward on his knees, in spite of his dashed sling, he possessed himself of one of her restless hands. “Kate, I’m going to ask something of you. Take your time answering.”
“What is it?”
“Is it your intention, someday when Joey is settled, to travel to Italy to become Francesco’s lover?”
“That was but a silly girl’s daydream.”
“Once the war is ended, I would like to go to Italy with you. To see more paintings. But, you see, I think you must put an end to this infatuation of yours first.”
“Infatuation!” she exclaimed, pulling her hands away. “My feelings for Francesco are very real. Very passionate!”
A figurative stiletto plunged into his heart. He was suddenly angry. “What would a seventeen-year-old girl know of passion? Or did you lose your virtue as well as your head?”
Reaching across to where he still leaned forward, Kate dealt him a stinging slap. “You . . . you cad!”
Pulling back, he gazed at her with a sly smile. “You do not think your future husband needs to know if he was the first?”
“Let me make one thing absolutely clear, my lord. I am a virtuous woman. And unless my feelings for you and yours for me undergo a material change at some future date, I do not intend to welcome you into my bedroom!”
“I could swear you did not always hold me in such dislike!” The woman was more than maddening. She was a termagant!
Well, they would just see. He could swear she was attracted to him. And he was convinced after their short discussion that, come hell or high water, he was going to see Francesco ousted from her heart before they had been married a month.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
IN WHICH A MARRIAGE TAKES PLACE
Papa had always told Kate that the surest way to get her to take up a particular stance was to oppose it. Now, as she sat in the silent carriage, she was very aware that this fault in her was the only reason why she had clung to what she now saw was her infatuation with Francesco.
But what did Jack care? He was not marrying her for love! He was marrying her to preserve her reputation. Why could she not feel gratitude for this? Why did she feel as though she were the injured party?
Because he did not love her. But obviously he wanted to control her. He wanted her to root Francesco out of her heart altogether. Well, she would not allow that to happen. Francesco represented a time in her life that was very dear to her. A most formative year. If Jack were going to marry her, he would just have to take her memories as part of the package. She wondered, not for the first time, why she had not been born Italian. Then, as her temper cooled, she wondered why she had lost it.
For all his chivalry and handsome looks, Jack clearly did not bring out the best in her. He would wr
est the reins from her hands every time she was beginning to get comfortable with him. Perhaps it was telling that they had never had that carriage ride in the park.
When she was long beyond weary, they finally arrived at Blossom House. Jack walked her to her door. When it was opened by Bates, he asked, “Here I have Lady Kate, safe after a harrowing adventure. Is Lady Clarice at home?”
“Yes, my lord.” Then he bowed to Lady Kate. “If I might be allowed to say so, my lady, it is good to see you back with us unharmed. Now, my lord, if you would please come with me.”
Kate followed Bates and Jack to the blue sitting room, where Henry Five was making his way across the oriental carpet, seemingly in greeting. When the butler left to fetch her aunt, she said, “Let us be friends, Jack.” She offered her hand. He took it gravely. Instead of shaking it as she intended, he bowed over her fingers.
“I am about to ask for this hand. Do you think she will give it to me, Henry Five?” he asked the tortoise.
Kate thought this a ridiculous question. Instead of answering, she asked, “Are you certain you still want it?”
Before he could offer an answer, Aunt Clarice entered the room, Queen Elizabeth under her arm.
“Oh, my darling girl! What a time you have had! Oh, I would not have had it happen for the world!” She wrapped her free arm around Kate in a hug. Queen Elizabeth protested with a yowl.
Lady Clarice turned to Kate’s escort. “My lord, how can I ever thank you for rescuing her? We were quite demented! It was such a mystery. We had no idea what had become of her. You can imagine! I must admit that the idea of white slavers crossed my mind. But, that scoundrel, Walsingham!” She paused to wipe an errant tear from her eye. When her emotions were sufficiently in control, she continued, “But the sling! Are you wounded? You are most dreadfully pale. Kate did not mention that in her letter.”
“She would not.”
“I am glad you shot that creature, Lord Northbrooke,” Lady Clarice said.
“You can thank me by granting me the hand of your niece, Lady Clarice. Kate has agreed to marry me.”
Kate looked at his face, normally so expressive. It now it had the appearance of granite. “The marquis thinks this is somehow all his fault, Aunt. He thinks he must make a marriage of convenience to save my reputation.”
Aunt Clarice’s mouth formed an o as she looked from Jack to Kate. “That aspect of the situation had not even occurred to me. All I could think of was gratitude that you were not dead, my dear.”
“Well, I might as well be, as far as the ton is concerned.” She explained the circumstances in which the gossipy Marquis of Somerset had discovered them, afraid to look at Jack’s face.
“Your niece is nothing but a doxy, my lady. She all but stripped me naked!”
“Jack!” Kate looked at him, and was very surprised to see him grinning. “I may have saved your life with my nursing!”
“May, indeed. I rather credit the unflappable Polly Potter who spent the night sponging my brow as I recall.”
“Who is Polly Potter, or do I not want to know?” asked Aunt Clarice.
“She is the intrepid innkeeper’s wife who rescued me on the Dover Road when I was completely done up,” Jack said.
“I wanted to rescue you! She and Mr. Potter would not hear of it.”
“That’s neither here nor there. You could not keep your delicate hands off my manly person. You positively delighted in ripping my coat from my body! Of course you are ruined!”
Lady Clarice gasped, round-eyed, and Kate flushed with anger and embarrassment. “I thought you were going to die, you thankless idiot!”
“Another man might have taken advantage of you, but I restrained myself!”
“Of course you did. You were burning up with fever!”
Kate discovered that Caro had come into the room when her friend said, “I think you will make a perfect match, Jack! At last, a female you cannot dominate. I predict that Kate will never let you know whether you are on your head or your heels.”
The couple turned to her.
“Stuff!” said Kate.
“Fustian!” said Jack. “But I do not deny that we shall most probably kill one another before our first anniversary.”
Lady Clarice exchanged a look with Caro, and Kate recognized that her aunt was trying desperately to keep a straight face.
“Well, now. We have a marriage to plan. Next week, we were to have Kate and Caro’s coming out ball. I propose that we make it a combination coming out ball for Caro and a betrothal ball for the two of you.”
Kate said, “That is gracious of you, Aunt. But I could not possible overshadow Caro at her ball, and the gossip is bound to be quite vicious before then. I prefer to face it as a married woman, if Jack can indeed be brought up to scratch.”
“It is you who are hankering after that Italian Lothario,” he said.
“Oh, do be quiet. I happen to know that your reputation is not exactly Sterling. And you have as much as told me you plan to continue your philandering ways by returning to London, leaving me to vegetate in Wiltshire!”
“Harpy!”
Lady Clarice intervened. “Lord Northbrooke, are you prepared to obtain a special license?”
“I am. Today is Friday, if I have managed to maintain my bearings. I shall call on Bishop Hanbury in the morning.”
Caro came up beside him. “Jack, you look quite pale. I see your arm is in a sling. Were you wounded?”
“Thank you for your concern, dear. Yes. I am supposed to have lost quite a quantity of blood.”
Kate said, “The journey has been too much for you, Jack. What are we doing standing about?” She sat down on a chair near where he stood. “Sit, beloved. Forgive me, but I thought your pallor was due to our impending nuptials.”
Jack sat and, removing his handkerchief from his breast pocket, mopped the perspiration from his brow. Henry Five moved to investigate the interesting tassels on his Hessian boots. Lady Clarice and Caro sat together on the sofa facing him.
“Are you quite certain that you are prepared to wed this soon?” Lady Clarice asked. “Perhaps it would be better if you retired to your bed for a few days.”
“Best get this taken care of before the gossip gets out of hand. We will be married Sunday.”
Kate breathed a long sigh of relief. In spite of her raillery, she had secretly worried that he would not go through with the idea. Her bruises should be an interesting shade of green by then. Though she had no intention of telling him so, he was indeed an honorable man.
* * *
It had been decided that Kate would be married in the gold Music Room at Blossom House. Their only guests were to be the Duke and Duchess of Ruisdell and the Marquis of Somerset, who, in addition to being an interested party, was also a close friend to the Duke. The marriage would be announced in the newspapers, but Somerset could entertain the ton with all the details about the loving couples’ nuptials.
Kate tried to keep as busy as possible so that she would not have time to think about the momentous change in course her life was about to take. As she chose her wedding gown from her existing wardrobe—a coral-colored chiffon over a matching underskirt with tiny pleats falling from the raised waistline and a pleated standup collar that framed her face—she wondered if Jack found her beautiful. She had been counted a beauty in Wiltshire, but in London, she was nowhere close to being a diamond of the first water. And the dashing Jack, despite his irritating ways, could surely have married anyone.
As she and Caro experimented with ways of styling her abundant auburn hair, she recalled doing the same thing with her stepmother and knew a lonely pang that she had no family, aside from Aunt Clarice, who would be present. Not even Joey would be here. She had requested that Jack send someone for him, but her fiancé had convinced her that twelve-year-old boys did not have any interest in weddings, and he did not have any interest in having Joey present at Northbrooke Park during the first week of their marriage.
Packing her
portmanteaux with her entire London wardrobe, her books, and her painting supplies, she could no longer put off thoughts of the future past Sunday. Her Season was cut short after all. No matter how it had come about, she had achieved her goal. She was going to be married. She and Joey were going to have a home at Jack’s Wiltshire estate. But everything was happening so fast, Kate could not really take in all that this entailed. Would she and Jack be able to rub along, despite their conflicting temperaments? He did not love her. And what of her feelings for him?
She recalled the conflicting emotions of tenderness, fear, and attraction she had felt as he lay stripped to the waist on the sofa at the Hoof and Sail. They had been unable to quarrel while he was laid low with fever. Perhaps he needed to be shot on a regular basis. She must suggest that as a remedy during their next contretemps.
Aunt Clarice and Caro had made a visit to Bond Street on Saturday morning to purchase a lovely nightgown and peignoir set of ivory-colored satin. This, of course, set her to wondering whether Jack would ever see it. She knew very little about the realities of a marriage of convenience. She had told him she would not allow him in her bedroom, but she had been having a fit of pique at the time. Looking at the lovely lingerie, she was surprised by the longing she felt to be touched, cherished, and held. It had been so long since anyone had cared about her. But, she reminded herself, Jack did not love her. Would she submit to his embrace, knowing that to be the case? She hoped not, for under the circumstances and despite her longings, she could only view the prospect of consummating their union as a cold-blooded farce. A man need not love a woman to make love to her. But a woman? How could she allow herself to be conquered in the most intimate of ways if she knew the conqueror’s heart was not involved?
This question made her blush, as she was engaged in folding her new lingerie in tissue paper. Confound it! Her heart must be involved. At this moment, she would gladly make love to Jack. But he thought her a troublesome baggage. She must never let him know her feelings. She could not control him or what he felt, but she could at least control herself.
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