His Disinclined Bride (Seasons of Change Book 7)

by Jennie Goutet

  Kitty had lifted the cup to her lips, but at these words, the saucer fell from her nerveless fingers and bounced harmlessly on the carpet. The soft thunk brought everyone’s eyes to her. Phineas met her regard, and she could read the question in his eyes. She did not need a looking glass to know her face was crimson. There was an awkward silence as the crowd of guests seemed to guess that something was amiss.

  Phineas switched his gaze to Mrs. Dutton. “Is that so? And who has given you such a romantic picture of our marriage?”

  Mrs. Dutton had a glint in her eye when she looked at Kitty. “Why, your wife did.”

  He looked again at Kitty, holding her gaze for a split second, and she could hear her heart beat loudly over the silence in the room. “Indeed it was, ma'am. As a matter of fact, you might say it was a love match from the very first time I set eyes on her.”

  Phineas walked to Kitty’s side and leaned down to pick up her saucer. After a split second’s pause, where he seemed to consider, he took her teacup from her hand and placed it and the saucer on the table behind her. Kitty attempted a smile, but she was trembling from head to foot. Phineas had lied and said he loved her to spare her humiliation. If only his words had been true. Her husband reached out and put her hand on his arm, and his warmth calmed her. At least they had a friendship.

  He switched his gaze from her. “Mr. Abrams, you had crops grown on your southern meadow, did you not? I believe it had been used for sheep before. What made you make the switch?”

  The doctor moved forward to answer Phineas’s question, and the conversation in the room slowly picked up. Kitty’s tense mortification began to give way as the conversation flourished around her. She dared to glance around the room, and Lucretia lifted her gaze from the woman speaking before her and gave a tiny nod in Kitty’s direction.

  Kitty dreaded the trip home. She was overcome with embarrassment, although she had appreciated Phineas standing up for her and not permitting her to be humiliated in front of everyone. He had even come to stand by her, and that had brought her more comfort than she could have imagined the day she stood beside him in front of the vicar. She allowed the darkness to shroud her face and expression in the carriage. She shivered from cold and, she suspected, from the misery of embarrassment.

  “Kitty, if you are cold, you may come and sit next to me, where you will be warmer.”

  Kitty glanced at him but could not read his expression in the dark. She slid over near him, and his warmth did ease the tremors as the carriage swayed back and forth. She opened her mouth to explain, but closed it again, too mortified to try. After a small distance, Phineas leaned away from her and lifted his arm to put it around her, the weight of it unfamiliar and heavy but not unwelcome. The little tremors stopped, and her muscles began to relax one by one. She and Phineas did not speak.

  The hall was silent when they entered, and Phineas handed his cap and gloves to the servant. Kitty shook her head when the footman offered to take hers. “I will keep my cloak on until I'm upstairs. I am still cold.”

  The silence stretched as they walked up the stairs, and as they made their way to her room, she knew she had to say something. He must be waiting for an explanation not to have spoken a word all that time.

  “I beg your pardon for having lied about it being a love match.” Kitty stopped in front of her door and turned to face him. “I could not bear Mrs. Dutton’s questions that day, and her insinuations that, of course, it was my brother’s fortune that tempted you, even though it was no less than the truth. So I said a falsehood, never imagining it would reach your ears.”

  Phineas peered at her, and although they had not thought to take a candle up with them, the moonlight stretched down the corridor from the window at the very end of it and lit the whites of his eyes. She saw him smile and felt his nearness cloaked under the darkness. “I do not mind in the least,” he said. The words came out softly. “Perhaps one day it will be true.”

  Kitty lifted her head and tried to read Phineas’s expression in the dim light, any further words caught in her throat. Phineas leaned down and stopped short of kissing her.

  “Kitty, I—”

  Kitty could barely breathe as his lips grazed hers. He pulled away a hair’s breadth, and she felt his fingertips, warm on her cheeks before he again moved forward, bringing his lips to hers. Her brain finally caught on to what was happening as his kisses grew deeper, and she was about to close her hands around his arms when he pulled away abruptly. Her arms fell to her sides, her breath coming quickly.

  They faced one another for a moment. Phineas’s eyes were on her, his expression serious. She felt the intimacy of their position—how thin a barrier was keeping them apart. He waited, and she did not know what he wanted her to say, only that she could not say that. In the seconds that followed, her chest pounded, reverberating through her and muddling her mind.

  At last, Phineas bowed. He turned toward his room, and Kitty was left in the hallway with a gaping breach to her self-sufficiency. In its wake was desolation. Perhaps she should have spoken the words. Maybe it would not have been so brazen after all. She reached for the handle to her room and opened, a dim swath of light from the crackling fire stretching across the room to greet her.

  17

  The day before they left for Bath, Phineas set off riding with Samuel an hour earlier than their usual lesson time to allow Kitty to oversee the packing of their trunks. Samuel had been keen to spend an extra hour in the saddle with Phineas, knowing he would not have much opportunity to ride in Bristol. On that subject, Kitty was determined to speak with Erasmus when she saw him in Bath and win him over to her point of view by appealing to his love of distinction. If Samuel did not show to advantage on horseback at Harrow, it would not look well for the Stokes name, and that was something Erasmus would care about.

  The extra hour had also given Kitty a chance to deal with a household emergency that had been brought to her attention. The emergency turned out to be nothing more than a maid’s cheek swelling to twice its size because her tooth needed to be drawn, and Mrs. Morley not wanting to give her time off to do it. One of the footmen appeared to have interest in the young maid and spoke up on her behalf, asking to keep it quiet from the housekeeper. It was a delicate matter that did not endear Kitty to Mrs. Morley, for Kitty overrode her decision and ordered that the doctor be sent for immediately.

  Kitty wondered if she would continue to have such resistance from the housekeeper. The rest of the servants did not seem to hold her in such small esteem, and she had not yet broached the subject with Phineas. She did not wish for him to know she had difficulty in earning the housekeeper’s respect. When that matter had been dealt with, she turned her steps toward the stable, wishing to be ready on time. Her husband promised they would circle back to retrieve her, and Kitty no longer had any fear that Samuel would be too tired from his rides. He showed more courage than she did, and more stamina.

  Kitty entered the dim of the stables and heard noises in the back. “Craddock,” she called out, walking forward.

  He appeared at the sound of her voice, coming out of the stall with his shirt sleeves rolled up despite the cold air. “I've just finished exercising one of the hacks.” Craddock stepped toward her with an intimate smile, and she peered beyond him to see if there were other hands nearby.

  “I am glad I have not disturbed you in the middle of your task,” she said. At the far end, one of the stable hands was mucking out the stall, but only his back was visible. “I came to see if I might have Fawn saddled.”

  Craddock reached for a peg on the wall that held the bridle. “Certainly. I will attend to it. Perhaps we might go riding together.”

  Kitty flashed a polite smile that fell quickly. “Lord Hayworth and Samuel will circle back to retrieve me. They should not be much longer.”

  The groom turned his back on her and went into the stall where Fawn stood across from the small alcove where saddles were kept. The new sidesaddle Phineas had ordered for Kitty was
draped over a thick peg, and when Craddock saw her admiring it, he stood at her side, his arms folded. “This saddle is beautifully made. I think you ought to be more comfortable on it, and perhaps your riding will improve even more.”

  Kitty fingered the saddle, and the stiff leather was gleaming and smooth. When she looked up, his eyes were on her, his gaze intent. She tried to lighten the atmosphere. “I can only hope any hindrance to my progress is due to having an old saddle.” She was only jesting to release the tension, but Craddock seemed to take her words at face value.

  “You are making excellent progress, my lady.” He placed the bridle over the horse's head and glanced at her as he fastened it. “I have missed our lessons. Now that your husband rides with you, we cannot speak of Bristol and our shared community there.”

  Was her groom flirting? Kitty began to wonder if she were stupid. Sometimes his looks and questions crossed the line, but she could not always tell if she had simply imagined it. After all, why would someone pursue a married woman? It made no sense. On one hand, a groom did not generally say “I missed our rides” as that would imply some complicity or relationship other than mistress-servant. On the other hand, grooms did not generally share acquaintances as she and Craddock did.

  His smiles always took on an intimate manner, yet she possessed just enough doubts to wonder if perhaps it was just his way. Perhaps he smiled at everyone like that. She found it nigh impossible to set him in his place, for it would be terribly embarrassing to have made an error in thinking he meant more than he did.

  “The important thing for me is to keep riding, so I might become proficient. If Lord Hayworth is able to find the time to teach me, I consider myself fortunate.”

  Craddock slipped the saddle on the horse’s back and tightened the girth straps. He took the reins, and brought Fawn out into the aisle between the stalls that led to the front of the stable. He did all this without answering.

  At last he met her gaze over the horse’s back, his brow furrowed. “So there is no preference? Your rides with Lord Hayworth or your rides with me? You do not prefer one to the other?” He stopped near the opening of the stable and ducked around the horse’s head, still holding the reins. He faced her, lifting a brow in inquiry.

  That was the final straw. She could not believe his intentions innocent. “Your discourse has become increasingly familiar,” Kitty said evenly, weighing her words. “I would like to remind you that I am married.”

  “You are married, but you are not happy.” Craddock leaned toward her, his voice firm and coaxing. “I can see it. This is not where you belong, Kitty, and you know it. There is a genuineness about you that I admire. I’ve never met a woman like you. It’s why I’ve stayed in this post as long as I have.”

  “I beg you will not—”

  “Allow me to finish.” Craddock said quickly, and Kitty went silent. Let him say what he had to say, so she could remove all doubt about where her loyalties lay. In any event, she could not take Fawn on her own, and her husband was not back yet with Samuel. She looked at Craddock impatiently, feeling trapped with him filling the space between her and the exit.

  “I never want to regret the rest of my life that I didn't tell you this. And I think you might regret if you don't hear it.” Craddock dropped the reins, and Fawn stood patiently in place. “I have developed feelings for you during our time together, and I believe you have feelings for me. I have a plan to breed stallions, and a friend has gone to Scotland to select the stud. I want you to come with me. We will go far—as far as Leith—and no one in Bristol, apart from family, need ever hear from us again. Our family will only wish us happy. They will not reject you for a step that might be considered scandalous in higher Society. After all, we do not move in the same circles.”

  Kitty’s outrage had kept her mute throughout his speech, but she trembled from disgust. “I am astonished you have so wholly misread my character as to think I would commit an adulterous act. That I would run away from the home where I belong. And if that were not enough, you are showing your complete ignorance of my family’s values. If you think they would accept me back after I have taken so ruinous a step, you are in grievous error—even were I tempted to follow you.”

  “You are tempted. Your longing gaze shows me you are. And even if your brother does not wish to see you, my family will certainly wish to see me. We are not in a position where we need to worry about what other people think.” Craddock held out his hand. “Kitty, I must own the truth. I did not need this position. If I have taken it, it is only because I had seen you on my last visit and was called away before I could present myself. I had decided on you, Kitty. I did not expect your brother to work so quickly to arrange an unhappy marriage for you. That has surely complicated matters, but has not made them irreversible. I will not give you up just because you have been compromised.”

  Kitty could not listen any longer. “You are mad. Marriage is most certainly irreversible in God's law. Step out of my way—”

  Craddock darted to block her path. “Kitty.” He lifted a hand to her cheek.

  “Kitty?” The small voice came from the entrance of the stable and Craddock whipped away his hand. Samuel stopped short, and his eyes narrowed in Craddock's direction. “We have returned. Are you ready to ride?”

  Phineas came in on the heels of Samuel and saw Kitty's close proximity to Craddock, who had now taken a step back. She was certain her face was bright red and knew instantly what conclusions her husband would draw. She had kept silent too long about Craddock’s advances. She had been a fool. Phineas would never believe her now.

  “I have done all the riding I have time for today, Samuel.” Phineas spoke in a terse voice, which showed Kitty he had seen everything. She wanted to weep in despair—to run and cling to him. “I think it has been enough riding for you as well today. My lady”—Phineas bowed before her—“I trust you will do as you think best.”

  Phineas turned on his heels and left the stable. Samuel looked up at Kitty in confusion. “A moment ago, he said he was willing to ride. It is too bad he does not want to do so any longer. Are you going to ride without me?”

  “No.” She kept her eyes on Samuel to avoid Craddock’s gaze. “I will keep you company and save my ride for another day. Craddock, have Fawn returned to her stall.”

  Kitty put her arm around Samuel, and they began walking to the house. She could feel the weight of Craddock’s proposition follow her out the door. No one in her acquaintance had ever broken a vow of marriage. Well, there was Mrs. Burns in Bristol, but people had been more shocked that she married at all than they had been at her abandoning the union. Her name was only whispered in the drawing rooms. How could Craddock have thought she would accept it? Or that she held any tender feelings for him? No! He had been a familiar voice and nothing more. If only her own husband had been half as ardent as Craddock had been. Kitty let out a hiss of frustration.

  “Do we have to leave for Bath tomorrow?” Samuel asked. “Can I not stay here with you?”

  Kitty was pulled out of her problems for a moment, and she hugged him at her side. “It’s hard, I know, my dear Sam. But our marriage is so new, and I do not yet know Phineas’s parents. I need to go and meet them more informally than what we had at the wedding, and I truly cannot have you there when I do so. But you heard what Phineas said, did you not? Or, rather, I should say Lord Hayworth.”

  “He lets me call him Phineas, too,” Samuel answered. “Or at least he does not say anything when I do. Yes, he said I could return later after the holidays. But that is a long ways away.”

  “It will pass quickly.” Kitty steered him into the house and stopped to face him. “I promise, Samuel, you will always be my family, and you will always have a place to stay. I just need time to get accustomed to my new life here, do you see?” Samuel paused, biting his lip, then nodded. “Now, why don’t you go find the gardener. He told me he wished to see how you’ve improved with the bow and arrows before you leave.”

  Sa
muel brightened at that. “I will fetch them.” He started to run off then came back and planted a kiss on Kitty’s cheek, to her surprise. He had never done such a thing. At least someone wanted to be around her. As for her husband, she wasn’t sure Phineas ever wanted to see her again.

  Kitty stood in the quiet entryway, assessing how to proceed. The gleaming dark wood of the bannister and floors, the painted ivory walls with the old frames, the bronze wall sconces—all these were beginning to be home for her. A footman walked by and paused in his steps.

  “Do you need something, my lady?”

  She lifted her gaze and shook her head. She couldn’t very well stand in the corridor like a moonling. Everyone would realize something was wrong. She knew what she had to do.

  Kitty gave a timid knock on Phineas’s study. This was met with silence. She turned to go, thinking her husband was not inside or perhaps did not wish to see anyone, when she heard the sharp command. “Enter!” She turned the handle at once and stepped through the door, looking up at last to meet her husband’s gaze. He sat at his desk, his face lined with unhappiness. Kitty gulped.

  “May I speak with you?”

  “If you wish.” Phineas returned the answer with indifference and straightened the papers on his desk. When she continued to stare at him, he looked up at last. “What is it?”

  Kitty’s eyes smarted at the sharp sound of his words, so different from the warm complicity in the carriage the night before. But she needed to push through and prove her innocence. She swallowed again, her throat dry. “I would like to request you send off Craddock. That you replace him.”

  Phineas looked up, a flash of surprise lighting his eyes. He held her gaze intently. “Why?”