by Eliza Lloyd
“If I had known—”
“But you didn’t and now we do. Besides, a woman of my maturity does not belong on a swing to begin with.”
Her shoulder still ached. The glass of brandy Mark had forced down her last night had dulled the screaming pain to a throbbing hurt, and this morning it seemed almost decadent to swallow back another glass before the carriage journey. The sling helped stabilize her arm, but an occasional jolt was severe enough to make her wince in pain.
Since the incident he had barely touched her.
He sighed and turned toward the window again.
“Mark, are we to ignore this? Accidents happen.”
“You partially dislocated your shoulder. I caused this accident. It is further proof I am ignoble.”
“I only had to say no. I am just as much to blame.” She leaned her head to his shoulder.
“I am very sorry.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Please forgive me.”
“Of course.” She squeezed his hand in reassurance. She had children, after all. Accidents happened no matter how careful one was. For Katrina, only her first child had caused her any real anxiety. After he’d experienced a cut or scrape or bad fall, she’d learned it was impossible to protect him every moment. Claud had been even more rambunctious, but she’d fretted less.
“Have you ever wondered if you are the person others believe you to be?” Mark asked.
“Does it matter what others believe?” She laughed. “Oh my. That was the most ridiculous statement I have ever made. I have been concerned with what people think of me for years. Lady Klee—the cit determined to worm her way into the Beau Monde. The Russian émigré with grand designs on any titled gentleman to look her way.”
“No one thinks such a thing.”
“You are a man. Men more easily absolve women of their ambitions regarding marriage out of their desire to protect. And other reasons.”
“Because you are beautiful, you mean?”
“Would you have looked at me twice were I not?”
“Guilty,” he said, his mood seeming to improve. “We have a tendency to place value on the superficial only to regret it later when the woman in question refuses to provide us pleasure. When will we learn?”
“I hope beauty is not superficial. I hope—”
“You needn’t worry. You are warm and beautiful to your core, Katrina.”
“And yet you fret over a decision which makes you believe you are less than an honorable man. Would it make you feel better if I told you I was attracted to you for the same reason?” She nudged him and he slid one arm behind her to hold her close, but being very careful not to press her sore spots.
He took a deep breath, his chest expanding, before he said, “The earldom was substantially in debt due to my father’s gambling.”
“A common problem, but his sin is not your sin.”
“It became my sin. You have not met Christina.”
“No, I have, actually. At one of my soirees last year. Remember?”
“That’s right—I had forgotten. Christina mentioned it to me also. My sister will not be happy I am telling you this, but you need to know the kind of man with whom you’ve agreed to share a bed.”
“Mark.”
“No, it must be said. Especially in light of this.” He glanced at her sling again. “Christina found out about my father’s substantial debt and what it would mean for my brother John’s psyche. You knew he was confined? Well, she thought to rescue the earldom by selling herself to the Marquess of Dane.”
“Sell? Sell?” Katrina sat up and faced him, brows raised, forgetting the dull ache at her shoulder. “What do you mean?” The marquess had been at her gathering too. Suddenly, his surprising appearance there made more sense.
“She believed she had one thing to sell in order to save the family. She sold her honor to the marquess. I allowed it, maybe even secretly wanted her to do it. What brother would be so callous?”
Katrina bit at her lower lip. “Mark, you don’t need to tell me.”
“You need to know.”
“I need to know or you need to tell me?”
“Both. She came to me with her rescue scheme. I postured with reasons why she shouldn’t, but—what kind of man allows his sister to do such a thing, especially when it could taint every day of her future?”
What could Katrina say? Did Mark not see the similarities? Even widows had honor. Had she not sold hers as well?
“Had you said no, would she have proceeded without your approval?”
“I said nothing. I think that is worse. I consented with my silence.”
“So, I should infer you are a terrible person who allowed your sister to do what she intended to do all along, and that you are despicable because I climbed into a swinging chair in order that I might experience some dark pleasure with the evil Earl of Compton? Stop the carriage,” she proclaimed dramatically.
“I am the earl.”
“You weren’t then. Your brother was the earl and should have been making decisions.” She leaned back then, realizing what plagued Mark. “Are you intent upon carrying every woe in your family upon your shoulders?”
“There are just things I wish I could change.”
“As we all do. Oh, Mark, do not punish yourself. We all make our own decisions, pretending to have taken advice from our friends and families only to do what we wanted to do all along. Just as I made the decision to be with you.”
“Was that so hard?”
“You have no idea!” She laughed, remembering her slightly desperate thoughts. “Maybe you would be charmed by my naiveté. Mark Turnbow, I thought. What could he possibly see in me? And then I thought…”
His expression was blank, though his cheeks and ears had pinkened at her humorous adoration. Did he believe her?
“Well, I was happy to accept your tantalizing offer,” she said.
* * * * *
They arrived in London at dark, and within the hour had rolled onto the street in front of Katrina’s home. Mark hadn’t said a word since the carriage wheels hit the cobbled streets and she felt the weight of awkwardness between them.
A painful burn welled in her heart. Who would have imagined a week away would have driven a wedge between them instead of drawing them closer? Wasn’t that why she agreed to the private interlude? To earn his admiration? And just maybe…
She was not willing to admit to the secrets she hid in her heart. To speak those things was to feel those things—deeply, and in ways she’d had to crush for most of her life.
But all good came to an end, did it not?
The coachman gave a quick yell to the horses and the carriage lurched to a stop. Mark’s arm was there to keep her from tumbling from her seat.
Katrina touched his knee and squeezed lightly. “Thank you, Mark. It was lovely.”
He cupped her neck, drew close and pressed his lips to hers. Warm, slow and delicious. How had she gone a whole year without experiencing a man’s touch? She hated to give it up. Had Mark developed any affection for her? Even just a little?
Could she survive another year without the fire of physical intimacy, once she and Mark parted company? Something had changed between them. Her accident was the cause, but she didn’t understand his reasoning.
Mark had withdrawn, and rather quickly. Had what they’d done been such a bad thing? This accident with her shoulder was a trifle compared to the wonder she’d experienced up to that time. It wasn’t frightening; it was exhilarating!
“Katrina—” Mark cleared his throat.
The carriage door rattled, then swung open, revealing her brother-in-law, Peter.
Mark and Katrina drew apart, their actions obvious and furtive. She licked at her lips, as if she could wipe away her indiscretions. Oh, anyone but Peter!
“I thought I heard a carriage,” Peter said. The smile he wore turned hard. His gaze cut from hers to Mark’s. “Katrina, may I assist you?” he said, reaching for her.
“I—yes.
Certainly.”
As she ascended, Peter’s grip tightened against her smaller hand and he whispered through gritted teeth. “I had no idea you would be away. You never said a word. And what has happened to you? An injury?”
“My own clumsiness. I but fell.”
“Clumsiness? Indeed.” He let out a bitter laugh.
Yes, this encounter with her brother-in-law was both clumsy and embarrassing.
Mark followed her from the carriage. He stood tall beside Katrina.
Peter’s assumptions were obvious. And true. And Katrina’s stomach clenched uncomfortably because she couldn’t deny it and she couldn’t offer any plausible explanation for why she was in the company of a single man. Late at night. Without a chaperone. With a trunk and valise.
“Perhaps a servant can assist with the baroness’s traveling trunks?” Mark asked.
Peter glanced between them again before returning to the house. Katrina’s skin heated. Embarrassment. Doubt. Anger. And not a little fear. Her emotions coalesced into a worrisome need to apologize.
“Oh, dear.”
“You are not to worry. He won’t say anything.” Mark squinted, watching as Peter took the stairs.
“I’m afraid you don’t understand the delicacy of the situation. He knows what we’ve been doing.”
“You were discreet. You did nothing wrong. We did nothing wrong.”
“Mark, you need to go.”
He leveled a knowing stare but said nothing else. A servant hurried down the stairs, and Peter followed.
The awkwardness was not alleviated. Peter stood with his hands behind his back. She and Mark couldn’t say the things that needed to be said. The trunk and two valises were carried up the stairs. A cool breeze stirred, which prompted Mark to action.
Mark, stiff with anger, reached for her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Goodnight, Baroness.” He nodded to Peter, out of politeness, not respect.
Katrina didn’t watch the carriage pull away. They’d made no plans. Were they to meet again soon? Would he write? Should she? Not this way. Not this way.
She rubbed her temple, cursing her brother-in-law and her own carelessness.
Once inside the house, Peter turned to her and hissed, “Are you mad? You have children. A reputation. A name. Would you start a scandal? Ruin everything the Klees have accomplished?”
“I don’t believe it is any of your business, sir.” At least Peter was not venting his frustration in front of the servants.
“I am the guardian of your children. My brother would not appreciate this sort of conduct. They are impressionable. They are young and unsullied by the ways of the world.”
“Samuel is dead. And Lord Compton has been kind.”
“And that gives you the right to—to do whatever it was you did?” He glanced toward the door. “You have travel trunks. Where were you? Not at a ton ball. Did you stay with him? Unescorted?” He’d braced his fist against his hips. He clenched his jaw and said, “You will not see him again.”
“Peter, you have no say in the matter.” Her voice rose in anger, only tempered by the knowledge there were servants nearby and children upstairs.
“Don’t force my hand.”
“It’s late. Do you not need to be on your way?”
“When I arrived and found you away, I had a room prepared. I will be staying the night and we will talk further in the morning.”
“You and the boys were not to be home until tomorrow night.”
“And I will consider it fortuitous that I arrived in time to save your reputation and that of the Klee name. Now, may I escort you to your room?” he asked.
“No, I have matters to attend.”
He bowed and then planted one foot on the bottom stair riser. “When Samuel died, I offered you a very honorable life. There is no reason to behave in this manner when you could be my wife.”
“I’m not looking to marry. I’m sorry.” Why should she apologize for wanting to be independent? She had earned her freedom with the death of her husband. “No, Peter, I am not sorry. I’m a widow of some limited means. I may do as I please.”
The man she would have happily married was now escaping into the darkness with horse and carriage.
“That makes it so much worse, I’m afraid.”
Katrina watched him trudge up the stairs. She would insist he leave early in the morning. He might be the children’s guardian, but that did not give him license to interfere in her life.
She had no real reason to dawdle, so she followed up the stairs a few minutes later. She glanced into the boys’ rooms to see they were fast asleep. Another pain stabbed her middle. Her boys were growing. They too would soon be pestering her about their own independence. Hadn’t Ivan already made some of his wishes known? Her man-child, ready to take his place in the world since his father was gone?
When she woke the next morning, she dressed in a plain muslin gown. Her arm was stiff but movement was less painful, so she ignored her sling. It was best not to alarm the children or remind Peter of last night.
Another stout shot of whiskey would give her the courage she needed to face Peter and erase the residual pain of her encounter with an oak desk.
Peter waited for her at the small table the household used for breakfast. The sky was overcast, but clearing. Bursts of blue came and went as the clouds churned, but plenty of light flooded the comfortable nook. There was no place to hide and she was very inept when it came to masking her expressions.
He’d already set the morning paper aside and sipped at a cup of black coffee. He muttered a few polite platitudes while she filled her plate at the sideboard.
“So how long have you been intimate with the earl?” he asked.
Katrina raised her brows but took a seat beside him anyhow. She was a direct woman, but she was not unkind. The peevish anger that washed through her was foreign and unwelcome. She enjoyed life of peace except for this one thorn. “I will not say it again, Peter, but it is none of your business.”
“You may think you are free to do as you wish, but here is what will happen. You will not see him again.”
“You cannot stop me.”
“There are choices, of course. We can marry.”
“Marry? We will not, as I’ve already stated.” He had pressed for marriage a few times since Samuel had died. She’d always thought it out of concern for the boys. His demand now made her think it had something to do with her.
“Or you can continue your affair, and I will require the boys live with me in Surrey until their maturity.”
“Samuel wanted me to raise the children.”
“He appointed me their guardian for a reason. I doubt he had cause to think you would make such a stupefying decision.”
Katrina folded her hands in her lap and entwined her fingers. Was any man worth losing her sons, even someone such as Mark? The answer was clear. Their liaison was temporary. Perhaps it would end sooner than she had hoped, but it would end.
Or she could just tell Peter it was over. Lie to him. How would he know what she was doing once he returned to Surrey? She met with Mark only four days a week. Peter wouldn’t find out…unless he was determined to harass her over this.
Only she wasn’t a liar and wouldn’t become one for the sake of her temporary convenience.
“So, do I have a maid pack the boys’ trunks?” he asked.
“You wouldn’t do that to me. You wouldn’t take my sons when you know I love them more than anything in this world.”
“Then I must love them more than you do because I would do anything to protect them, even from their mother’s willing indiscretions.”
Tears burned in her eyes, but she forced them back and gritted her teeth.
“There is another solution,” he said.
“And what is that?”
“I am not sure you can stay away from him on your own volition. I fully understand the beastly and undisciplined nature of some men. If he is determined to have you, I believe
you will give in, in spite of what you think are your best intentions.”
“If I give my word, I will keep it.”
“Which I notice you have not yet given.”
“I don’t believe you will do this to me.”
“That is because you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“So, what is this other solution?”
“You have wanted to go home to Russia for some time. Now would be the opportune time to go.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You need time away from this lecher, and you need time away from your sons. They need a manly influence and you need to recognize your duty. It is a privilege, madam, that I have allowed the boys to stay with you until now. I see that privilege has been abused.”
“This is absurd.”
“Only this morning, I sent a servant to obtain departure times for ships to St. Petersburg. Five days should be sufficient time to say your farewells. While you are gone, the boys will stay with me. When you return, I will agree to return care to you. I think six months is enough time for you and the earl to overcome this illicit fascination.”
“In five days? And I’m to be gone for six months?”
“You don’t have to go, Katrina, but I imagine a house such as this will feel quite lonely without your sons.”
“Samuel would never forgive you for this, if he knew. I certainly won’t either.”
And what about Mark? How could she explain this farce to him? Then, there was the possibility it would be a relief to him. What man wants to land in the middle of a quarrel, with a family not his own?
The answer was clear. She would never give up her sons. Never.
“All right. Then I won’t see him again. You have my word.” Even as she said the statement, she plotted how she might see Mark again. Peter would never go through with this extortion. She could hardly believe his threats were real.
“Do I need to have a conversation with the earl or would you be willing to send him a courtesy note?”
She swallowed back the bitterness. Was Peter to deny her this bit of happiness she’d had as a widow?
“I will take care of it.”
“Katrina, don’t be fooled into thinking I believe you. I don’t know what your attachment is, but I can see your emotions are controlling your will.”