Arthur tapped him on the arm. “Hate to inconvenience you, old chap, but I rather suspect I’m about to cast up my accounts. D’you mind awfully if I take the blue bedroom tonight?”
“I should throw you out in the street for the drama you’ve caused,” snapped Alex, but he put an arm around his brother and led him out into the hallway nonetheless.
“S’not very brotherly of you,” said Arthur, looking affronted. “Where’s the filial affection, and all that?”
“I used it up looking at that coat,” he replied, his mouth kicking up into a smile despite everything.
“Good God, is that you, Arthur?” said Kate as she came running down the stairs. Alex raised his eyebrows.
“Where have you been?” he asked, sounding far more petulant than he wished.
“Helena,” she said sharply, as though whatever had occurred with his sister was somehow his fault. “Arthur, what on earth has happened?”
His brother straightened up and grinned like a puppy. “Did it, Katie! Carried out our plan!”
Alex tasted ashes in his mouth as he realised that she had not trusted him to fix this mess. That Arthur had not trusted him, either.
That he hadn’t even had a plan to fix it.
“The rose-pink frock coat,” she said, half groaning and half laughing. “Arthur you can be such a fool sometimes!”
Arthur stuck out his bottom lip. “S’not very sisterly of you, Katie. Worked, didn’t it?”
Kate looked radiant with glee as she clapped her hands together. “Do you really mean it? Eugenia has broken off the engagement?”
Alex grimaced. “She announced in front of the Ton that she would never marry a drunken gamester. He already had the drunk part down.”
The joy drained from Kate’s face. “Arthur, what did you do?”
His brother looked sheepish. He rubbed his nose, and then sneezed as the remains of the snuff got into his nostrils. “You might need to win the shooting tomorrow, Katie.”
Her eyes flew to meet Alex’s gaze, but he said nothing.
When she finally spoke her voice was shaking. “Why is that, Arthur?”
“Bet everythin’ on you, m’dear. To Sefton; knew he couldn’t resist, see? If you lose, I’m all to pieces. But not married to Eugenia. So there’s that.”
“Good God,” said Kate.
“The problem, Arthur, is that Kate will not be taking part in the shooting,” said Alex, his cold tone matching the numbness spreading through his chest. “I have her word on the matter.”
Arthur looked horrified. “Changed your mind! Heard Colbourne say so!”
“She gave me her word,” repeated Alex, “and even if she had not, I would not allow any wife of mine to take part in such a spectacle.”
“I cannot allow Arthur to be ruined,” said Kate, her eyes not meeting his.
“You never intended to keep your word, did you?” said Alex, feeling hurt, angry, and surprisingly, a little guilty.
Kate’s eyes flashed as she turned to face him. “Why should I, when everything about our relationship was a lie? I know about my brother’s meddling, about the fact all of London knew you were only being dutiful to me so that Pocklington would sell you the Northumberland property.”
There was a horrible silence.
“How did you know about that?” he asked and knew right away it was the wrong thing to have said.
“Eugenia told me,” Kate practically spat at him. “To think that I pined for your return all those years! Well, I have made my way in the Ton successfully for a decade, Lexborough, and if you think that my reputation is so poor that I cannot take part in a trifling little contest and emerge unscathed then you know nothing about me. More than that, I will not allow your brother to lose everything without lifting a finger to prevent it. Just because you lack courage and honour does not mean that I do.”
Her shafts hit home, but in that moment his anger outweighed both his hurt and his guilt.
“You will not take part, Kate, or I will banish you back to Darlington Park until you learn what it is to be a Duchess.”
She flinched, but her gaze fell to Arthur. She lifted her chin.
“So be it,” she said and walked past him toward the ballroom.
“You’re n’idiot,” muttered Arthur.
Alex watched as his poised wife, every inch a Duchess, walked away from him. His anger evaporated as quickly as it had arisen, to be replaced by an overwhelming sense of guilt.
And shame.
“Kate, Katie! I didn’t mean it,” he began, reaching out toward her, but she gave no sign of hearing him as she disappeared into the ballroom and beyond his reach.
He went to follow, but Arthur chose that moment to cast up his accounts all over Alex’s silk breeches.
Alex swore. Arthur blushed.
“Terribly sorry, Brother-Duke,” he murmured.
Alex sighed. “Let’s just get you up to the blue bedchamber.”
“Delightful idea,” said Arthur, brightening up considerably. “Should’ve thought of that m’self!”
Twelve
Kate’s maid shook her awake a little after ten o’clock, as instructed.
“His Grace is not up and about yet,” the maid whispered with all the gravitas of one meeting with a spy of His Majesty. “I’ve brought you some toast so you won’t be going out on an empty stomach.”
“Thank you, Molly,” Kate replied as she forced herself to get out of bed. “You are an angel, as always. Help me dress, if you please.”
It took less than half an hour to get Kate ready to face the day, her favourite blue pelisse just the thing to ward off any morning chill. She opted for a simple capote rather than a full bonnet, with just enough of a brim to shade her eyes without becoming a hindrance.
On the small table beside her bed sat an ornate little box. She opened it slowly, an appreciative smile on her lips as she beheld the gun that her brother had purchased for her. It was a perfect match for the one owned by her sister-in-law, although, in Kate’s opinion, Bella’s had a habit of pulling to the right.
Which would give her a slight advantage in the competition.
A light knock on the door drew her attention, and Kate felt her heart begin to thud. She wasn’t ready for a confrontation with Alex, or to face his anger when Arthur’s fate hung in the balance.
She stuffed the gun, still in the ornate box, into her ermine muff.
“Come in,” she said, hoping her voice was steady.
The door opened. Sarah and Helena, both wearing walking dresses and spencers, entered the room.
“Good, you’re ready,” said Helena with a nod of her head. Her eyes had deep shadows beneath them, but otherwise, she showed no sign of a broken heart.
“What are you doing?” blurted out Kate before she could help it.
Sarah walked over and took hold of her hands. “When Helena and I went to leave the parlour, we overheard the exchange between you and Alex. I have never wanted to box his ears more than I did in that moment – unless, of course, you count the fact that I still want to do so, and with relish!”
“But then you know that he has forbidden me to take part,” said Kate, feeling sick.
“And we know what Arthur did to get rid of Eugenia,” said Helena. She frowned. “I must say, I’m monstrous put out that I missed that part. It must have been devilish amusing to watch.”
“What is important, though, is that Kate is willing to sacrifice everything to save your brother from ruin,” said Sarah, fixing her daughter with a hard stare. “And we are going to help her.”
“You can’t,” said Kate, feeling wretched. “No, you mustn’t, my dears! It is bad enough that he is angry at me, but I cannot see you both exiled to Darlington as well.”
“We’ve already thought of that,” said Helena, looking almost cheerful. “Mama is arranging a house party.”
Kate gave a little gasp of surprise. “You cannot be, surely?”
Sarah looked smug. “Naturally I a
m. My daughter is on the look out for a suitable husband, and a house party is a perfect way for her to get to know some eligible gentlemen.”
Helena’s smile dimmed for an instant, but she gave her head a tiny shake. “We’ll have archery, and racing, and music, and dancing, and all sorts of wonderful things. So you see, it isn’t even a tiny bit good of me to help you out this morning, for I find that I would rather like a house party, and this is the only way to convince Mama to go through with it!”
Kate released Sarah’s hands and walked over to her young sister-in-law.
“You are an absolute diamond, my love,” she said and wrapped Helena up in her arms for a long moment.
Helena pulled away first. “Don’t be a goose, I’ve already told you I’m doing this because I’m selfish. Mama, we should get going. We can’t possibly be late for the competition. I bet Lady Cordelia my pin money for an entire quarter that Katie would win, while she insists that Lady Gloucester is the dark horse in this race.”
“You did what?” said Sarah, her good mood swallowed up by her motherly rage. “When did you do such a thing?”
Helena gave a dramatic huff. “After we returned to the party, and you told me to act as though I had not a care in the world. Besides, I was only supporting Katie! It is the type of thing a loving sister would do!”
They continued to bicker good-naturedly all the way down the stairs. Kate threw a glance up toward her husband’s bedroom door, but it remained firmly closed.
She sighed, but could not deny the flicker of anticipation at the prospect of pitting her skill against Bella and her friends in such a public way. For years she had endured teasing from her brother and many of her acquaintances for her eccentric love of shooting, and the chance to prove her skill to such a large audience, for such worthy causes, could not help but send a tremor of excitement running through her body.
“Although I must admit I wouldn’t be entirely sorry if you lose,” said Helena as they climbed up into the carriage. “It would be worth my pin money just to see the look on Arthur’s face when he realises he’ll have to find a trade of some sort.”
“Or more likely he would simply return to the family home, and you would have to live with him all over again,” said Sarah, with a pointed look at her daughter.
Helena shuddered. “Katie, I’ve changed my mind. You simply cannot lose, no matter what!”
“That is the plan,” said Kate as Sarah ordered the coachman to set the horses to.
She had to win.
*
Arthur groaned loud enough to wake the dead. Alex, who had fallen asleep in a wingback chair in front of the fireplace, stirred as well. He winced as he sat forward, his back stiff from the awkward angle he’d slept in.
The thick curtains were still drawn, and the only light in the room came from the dying embers of the fireplace. Alex had no idea of the time, and not much inclination to learn it, either, since he felt as though he had closed his eyes only moments earlier.
“My mouth feels like a mouse crawled in it to die,” muttered Arthur. “Damn it, Alex, do you have to breathe so loud?”
“I should bring a damned orchestra up here for your sins,” Alex replied as he stretched his arms out wide. “Instead I shall console myself with the knowledge that your head must be pounding.”
Arthur shrugged. “That’s where you’d be wrong, old chap. My mouth may be putrid and my stomach out in the middle of a sea storm, but I have a good head for drink.”
“After your performance last night, I find that difficult to believe.”
His brother snorted. “You do not even want to know how much gin I had to consume to get that castaway, old chap. But it was important, so I persevered.”
“Admirable of you, I’m sure,” said Alex with a shake of his head.
“It had to be done,” said Arthur, his tone darkening. “You don’t know Eugenia.”
“You could have left it to me to deal with it,” replied Alex, his fingernails digging into the arms of the chair. “It’s my job as head of the family.”
He heard the bedcovers rustle as his brother forced himself into a sitting position. Even in the relative darkness of the room, he could make out Arthur’s frame by the soft light from the fireplace.
“Firstly, brother-Duke, your initial response was to tell me I had to marry Eugenia. Secondly, you might be the Lord of the family but you have never so much attempted to head it up. Thirdly, my ridiculous engagement was my problem to deal with, and although you may not like my methods, you have to admit they were effective.”
The words stung.
“Effective perhaps, but you’ve beggared yourself in the process,” he snapped.
Arthur crossed his arms over his chest. “Which would not have been a problem if you’d not been such a pompous ass and had let Kate compete in the shooting contest.”
Any angry response died on Alex’s lips. His shoulders slumped, and he leant back into the padding of the wingback chair. “I did not know that it would be such an issue with her.”
“Lord above, Alex, do you know anything at all about your wife? Not only is she shooting mad, she’s acknowledged as the finest shot in all of London, and there was once even talk of allowing her to shoot at Manton’s gallery! The only reason the motion was stopped was the knowledge that if one female was allowed in then others would surely follow, but there was a dashed uncivil debate about it, I’ll tell you.”
Alex rubbed at his temples. “Why didn’t she tell me, then? Back when I first asked her not to take part?”
Arthur flopped back onto the bed with a vulgar curse. “Do they even have women in Italy? You cannot tell me that you have never witnessed a girl try to win over an eligible beau by simpering, surely? How have you got to 30 years of age without understands how a woman in love behaves?”
“Kate… Kate is in love with me?” he asked, rubbing at his chin.
“That confirms it: you are an idiot,” replied Arthur. “She was in love with you from the age of fifteen, you great lummox. Mind you, considering what a stuffy fatwit you’ve proven yourself to be since you returned to England, I’d be surprised to learn she still thinks of you as her handsome prince.”
“I still thought of her as a young girl,” replied Alex, manfully ignoring the insults being hurled at him. “And you as a grubby schoolboy and Helena as a baby. It was so easy to forget that the world continued without me, and something of a shock to discover I am not needed here.”
There was a pause before Arthur answered, the steady rhythm of the mantel clock the only sound in the chamber.
“Perhaps not needed, old chap, but wanted. Desperately. By all of us.”
Alex swallowed down the lump in his throat. He looked over at his brother and smiled. “Even by you?”
“Of course by me. I’m dashed outnumbered by the females in the family, so it would be nice to have some support in future skirmishes. Remind me to tell you about the battle over Christmas dinner last year. Now there was a situation where I craved male companionship!”
Alex laughed, but it softened quickly. He frowned, thinking about the events of the night before.
“I would not have made you marry Eugenia Pulford, you know. Not once I understood what a harpy she is.”
“I only had your word to go on, Alex.”
The words, uttered without accusation, served to add to the weight already pressing down on his shoulders.
“I understand that, but you should not have involved Kate in your escapade.”
Arthur sat up again. “Why the devil would you think I involved Kate? She only learned about it just before I cast up my accounts all down your front. Sorry about that, by the way.”
“Because you said as much to her in the hallway,” said Alex, scratching his head and wondering if perhaps he was the one what had been drinking blue ruin rather than his brother. “Told her that the plan worked.”
“It was a jest, you caper-witted popinjay. I joked with her a few weeks ago that I�
��d wear a rose-pink coat in order to convince Eugenia that she wouldn’t want to marry me. I remembered the conversation after my second lot of gin, and so stopped by the theatre to see what I could acquire. Speaking of which, there’s possibly a bill coming your way for that; I think I put you down as guarantor, although it might have been Snowley. Or Lord Flamborough. My memory is hazy.”
Alex groaned and cradled his head in his hands. “Good God, why didn’t you stop me accusing her of cutting shams with me?”
Arthur cocked his head to one side. “I was three sheets to the wind and desperately trying not to shoot the cat, old boy. I can’t be responsible for everything.”
“Damn and blast, I’m such a fool,” said Alex heaved himself out of the chair. He walked to the side of the fireplace and gave the bell-pull a sharp tug.
“I’ve been telling you that all morning,” said Arthur with a yawn. “Your wife is a diamond, you know. You’re lucky to have her.”
Alex stared down into the embers, his heart heavy and sore in his chest.
“I know,” he replied.
The door to the room opened, admitting his valet, Harland, and the under-butler, Davies, into the room.
“Good to see you up and about, your Grace,” said his valet, walking toward him with his normal, brisk efficiency. “I took the liberty of sending for some of Lord Arthur’s things, and they should be arriving shortly.”
Arthur, who was currently wearing one of Alex’s nightshirts, grinned. “Offended by my get-up, were you?”
Harland closed his eyes for a long moment. “I regret to say that I shall have nightmares about it for a considerable time yet, Lord Arthur.”
“Console yourself with the fact that I will be made to relive that indignity whenever my peers feel the need to destroy my ego,” replied Arthur, finally sitting up fully on the bed. He winced as Davies pulled back the curtains, and sunlight came streaming into the room. “Good God, man, are you trying to kill me?”
“So much for that hard head,” said Alex, unable to resist a smug smile. “What time is it, Harland?”
The Rebel Wife: Book Four in the Regency Romps Series Page 16
