“Oh, it is no matter,” Lady Severn said airily with a wave of her elegant hand. “When one is beset with beaux—”
“Rebecca!” Kittie cried and cast a glance at Lady Eliza. She would not have her employer know about her embarrassing infatuation over the duke for anything. It was hideously inappropriate and she sorely regretted ever divulging to Rebecca her feelings. It had just been such a joy to see her friends again that she and Hannah and Rebecca had stayed up late a couple of times and just talked long into the night.
“Rebecca is being droll,” Hannah said gently. “She often thinks she is wittier than she is.”
“I would not be surprised by any male admiration Kittie was in receipt of,” Lady Eliza said. “I have long considered her the sweetest of girls, and if my memory serves she is one of the most beautiful.”
Kittie stared at her benefactress. An enigmatic smile tugged the woman’s lips upward.
“She still is that,” Rebecca said. “And I can tell you, Lady Eliza, that when we all were in London, many men regretted that she was attached to Roger Douglas. She could have had her pick of gentlemen far better financially set.”
“Rebecca!” Kittie remonstrated, hurt by her friend’s candid words. “I loved Roger sincerely, and he was a good and devoted husband to me!”
“But he was a poor gambler and a worse provider.”
“That is uncalled for,” Kittie said, her voice shaking. “He loved me. You may have chosen a husband for reasons other than love—”
“Kittie, Rebecca,” Hannah said, raising her voice. “Nothing shall be gained by squabbling.”
“Mrs. Billings is right,” Lady Eliza said. “I think that we should adjourn.”
Oliver entered the room just then and bowed. “My lady, Lord Orkenay sends his regards and requests permission to invite Mrs. Douglas for a walk.”
“Really,” Kittie said with asperity. “Can the gentleman not come in and pay his respects in person first?”
Oliver turned to her and said, “He said that you would ask that, ma’am, and told me to say that he has something particularly on his mind that leaves him ill at ease and unfit for company, and that after he speaks to you about that he would be glad to come in and sit with the ladies.”
“Go,” Rebecca urged.
“I wouldn’t, Kittie,” Hannah said, her face set in worried lines. “He really is being most impolite.”
Kittie turned to Lady Eliza. “My lady, what should I do?”
That woman, her expression an enigmatic mask, said, “Kittie, you must do what you will. It seems to me that Lord Orkenay has something particular he wants to say to you, as he said so eloquently in his message by Oliver, and that it will be swiftest to hear him out.”
Reluctantly, Kittie nodded, then said, “I suppose.” She turned to the footman. “Tell him I will join him in the garden in five minutes, Oliver. The day has gotten cooler, and I will fetch my shawl first.”
Rebecca followed Kittie out toward the stairs. “My dear,” she said, grasping Kittie’s arm. “I’m sorry for what I said.”
Kittie gave her a quick hug. “It’s all right. I have long known we have a difference of opinion about some things.”
Holding her away, Rebecca stared into her eyes. “My fear is that you will not do what is best for yourself and your future for that very reason.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that the earl seems genuinely taken with you, Kittie, and I needn’t say that he’s a most eligible gentleman. If he should propose . . .”
Kittie protested with a quick exclamation and a movement.
“No!” Rebecca shook her lightly. “Listen to me. You would have to be blind . . . Oh! I didn’t mean to say . . .” She shook her head, her dark curls bouncing on her shoulders. “I am being most incoherent today. What I mean is, he is clearly vastly taken with you. This particular behavior can mean nothing but that he is going to propose marriage, my dear, and if he should, tell me that you will at least consider it!”
Through the open doors Kittie could hear a clock as it ticked on the sideboard in the dining room, measuring the seconds and minutes. Life was moving on, every second of every day taking her closer to her own end, and as pleasant and mundane as her life at Bodenthorpe Cottage was, could she honestly say that she was living as she would have chosen? Lord Orkenay had expressed a preference for her, and in the intervening days had taken every opportunity to talk to her and get to know her. If he should truly be interested in her as a possible wife, as unlikely as that seemed, should she not hear him out?
“All right, Rebecca, I’ll listen to what he has to say.”
She retrieved her shawl and exited the house a few moments later, to find the earl pacing in the garden. She wanted to upbraid him for his discourtesy in again asking her to walk with him without coming in and paying his respects to her employer, but something in his manner stopped her.
He glanced up and watched her approach. “Mrs. Douglas, how kind you are to indulge me this way. I must apologize once again for calling you out like this.”
“I must admit I was surprised and a little disconcerted, my lord.”
“And that is the furthest thing from my wishes,” he said, taking her arm and guiding her out the garden gate. He directed her down a path to the meadow, and she felt some relief that at least he was not taking her through the woods. Something in that action would have made her uneasy.
“I just needed to speak to you and knew I would make poor company until I have had my say,” he said.
Still puzzled as to his meaning, but not feeling any need to respond, Kittie stayed silent.
“Your silence I find encouraging. It tells me you will listen to what I have to say. I must preface my . . . well, my request, by saying that I have never met any woman so lovely as you.”
Skeptical but unwilling to interrupt, Kittie remained silent as they walked down a path that wove through the shorn grass of the hay meadow. She cast an uneasy glance back at the cottage, nestled snugly, barricaded from the world by stone walls. A curl of smoke puffed from a chimney and drifted on the September breeze.
“You are so very lovely, but with that you unite such a fine mind, ladylike demeanor . . . in short, you are perfection, my dear.”
“I think, my lord, that no woman reaches such a state as perfection.”
“And demure, too! You are far too modest, my dearest.”
She shot a look over at him, but his gaze was directed off in the distance, at a hill near the cottage. She started to look off that way herself, but he suddenly stopped her, turning her and clutching her shoulders in his tight grip. She would have been alarmed, but the expression on his face was still mild.
“Mrs. Douglas, I am a man of few words. I find you exceptionally attractive, and have come to adore your sweetness of countenance, your adorable modesty . . . in short, I have come to think that I cannot live without you!”
Dubious at first, Kittie was convinced that he truly was coming to the point. He was going to propose, and after knowing her only a week! What should she say? Should she ask for more time, or simply say they would need to get to know each other better?
“I . . . I don’t know what to say, my lord . . . you honor me, but—”
“Do not answer yet! Oh, my little love, that you should know how my heart beats whenever I see you!”
The declaration seemed false, but Kittie, gazing into his eyes—he was a bit shorter than her, she had thought, but they were eye to eye that moment—could not imagine why a man would seek to attach her if not for love. She wasn’t wealthy, nor did she have any future expectations. Perhaps it was just his theatrical demeanor that made it seem artificial.
“Kittie . . . if I may be so bold as to call you by your adorable given name . . . may I ask . . .”
“Yes, my lord?”
“Will you come back to London with me?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Oh, for the words of a poet . . . come live wit
h me and be my love!” He struck his breast with a free hand. “And I will . . . I don’t remember it at all. Always was a poor student of poetry. But you know what I mean. Anyway, will you come back to London with me? I have a lovely house in Richmond that happens to be vacant at the moment. I would be happy to see you snug there, and I can introduce you to such society!”
Stunned, Kittie tried to digest the earl’s words. “What are you asking?”
“Why, my dear, have I not made myself plain? I am asking if you will be my mistress!”
Ten
Alban, when he asked about the whereabouts of his guest, the earl, was informed by his butler of Lord Orkenay’s walk to the cottage. Suspicious of his intent he pursued him there, but found only Lady Severn and Mrs. Billings in the morning parlor. He abruptly made his obeisance to both ladies and then asked of Lady Severn where Lord Orkenay and Mrs. Douglas were.
“Why, they have gone out for a walk . . . just a few moments ago they left,” Lady Severn said. “It was the oddest thing. Lord Orkenay would not even come in. Apparently he has something in particular he wishes to say to Kittie.”
Alban did not miss the alarmed glance Mrs. Billings cast her friend. She would rather the woman had not said anything. “Really.”
“Yes. They have gone walking,” she said, one brow raised in an arch expression and with emphasis. “Toward the east meadow, if I did not mistake their direction once they were out of the garden.”
That she spied on her friend did not shock Alban. Lady Severn was the kind of woman who preferred to know everything. He bowed, thanked her for the information, and said he would see them later that day with the gentlemen. He strode out of the house, exited the garden and looked at both paths, the one through the woods and back to his house, and the one down the slope and into the meadow.
Inevitably, he took the one through the meadow. Kittie Douglas was, after all, his aunt’s companion. He had the dual responsibilities of her protection and the protection of his aunt at heart, he assured himself as he strode. His step hastened as he wondered, What did Orkenay have to say to Mrs. Kittie Douglas?
• • •
Kittie, in shock at the earl’s words, was helpless as he clasped her to his chest and covered her mouth with his. He tried to pull her down into the grass, but she twisted, unwilling to allow such a freedom, even as she was paralyzed with the horror of his offensive request. His kiss continued for eternity, it seemed, and yet she could not move. He didn’t appear strong, but he had her arms pinned to her sides.
When he released her, she put one trembling hand to her mouth and said, “I can’t have heard you right, my lord. I will not believe I understood. What . . . what did you ask of me?”
He smiled at her, his expression full of sly meaning. “My dear, I think you understand full well what I said. I asked if you would be my mistress. It is a very lucrative position, and far more entertaining than being companion to an old blind woman. And I promise, the work will not be onerous!”
Ashamed and horrified, afraid that she had done or said something that had led him to believe she would acquiesce to such an arrangement, Kittie opened her mouth to speak but found it covered again with his as he clasped her once again to his chest. She struggled this time, but though not as large a man as the duke, the earl was surprisingly strong. He kept her against him, releasing her only after a long, deep, wet kiss, his tongue thrusting into her mouth and sucking her tongue.
His grip loosened and Kittie pushed him away, finally, wiping her mouth with disgusted vigor. Cold with anger, she said, “I can’t believe you think I would acquiesce, my lord, to such an arrangement as you suggest. What woman in the world would go willingly from a position of respectability to one of such disgrace?”
Clearly disconcerted, he said, hand to his chest, “Disgrace? But my dear, a life of ease is yours for the taking! You would live in my house in Richmond. If you are wise, and witty, and all I feel you may be, you will receive gifts: jewels, gowns, an allowance, even. How can that be disgraceful?”
At first convinced that he was being unbearably base and that he must have known she would find his offer insulting, Kittie, gazing at him steadily, saw the shock and bewilderment on his face. She backed away a little more on the path. “I don’t know what it is like in your world,” she said, her voice low and trembling with emotion, “but in my circle a woman who willingly goes to a man without benefit of marriage . . .” She trailed off, remembering that her friend Rebecca was considering just such a thing with young Sir John. So were her thoughts on the subject old-fashioned? Was she exceedingly prudish? It had been many years since she had been in society, but she had seen much there, and yet— Uncertainly, she continued, “It is not the life I choose for myself.”
Hearing something in her tone that perhaps made him think she was softening, he took a step toward her. “I am a most considerate lover, my sweet.”
Her stomach twisted at his intimate words. A cloud passed across the sun and the shadows flitted over the meadow. “I don’t think you understand,” she said, trying to be reasonable and quell the anger that she felt over his invitation. “How can I benefit, ultimately? Without marriage, if you tire of me I lose everything, and my loss of reputation will then cause me much suffering, for once lost, no woman can regain it.”
“But you will materially benefit, my dear, I have promised you that,” he said with an earnest expression. He moved toward her and held out his arms. “The house in Richmond—”
“Yours, sir, and not mine. When you tired of me, I have no doubt you would demand that I vacate the premises.”
“But that might not happen for a long time,” he replied. “You are very beautiful, quite unusual, and there is something more to you, some quality I feel sure will keep me enamored for some time.”
Kittie turned away and started back along the path to the cottage. She could listen no more to a catalogue of her assets, as though she were being listed in a bill of sale at an auction house. The conversation had taken on the tone of a negotiation, and since she had no intention of ever acquiescing it was pointless. He followed, she knew, but did not accost her again until they were almost at the garden gate.
“Please forgive me if I have offended you, Mrs. Douglas,” he said.
There was such sincerity in his tone that she stopped and looked back at him. “You have, Lord Orkenay,” she said, unlatching the gate. “But I cannot help thinking that you don’t understand why you have offended me.”
“I admit, I have made this proposal before and the answer was far different from yours,” he said ruefully.
Frowning down at her shoe and smudging it in the dirt as she thought, Kittie said, “There are many who would think I was mad for turning you down; it is a generous offer, sir, one I’m sure some women would thank you for. Others would think me mad for accepting. It is said, as I stated before, that feminine virtue is like a jewel; once cast away it can never be recovered. But I am not one who happens to believe that a man and a woman enjoying each other out of wedlock is necessarily a sin.” Perhaps her thoughts on that subject had taken somewhat of a turn in the last few days.
“Really,” he said, his tone insinuating as he advanced on her.
“My lord, that was not an invitation,” she said hastily, putting up one hand and blocking his movement.
He merely reached up, though, and tenderly pushed a stray curl from her bun back behind her ear and caressed her cheek with his finger, rubbing the soft flesh of her chin. “I know.” He sighed. “I suppose I knew even as I said it.”
“To become your mistress would mean, for me . . . oh, I don’t know how to say it. Please don’t be offended, my lord,” Kittie said, clutching her hands together in agitation, not wanting to hurt the earl, who seemed to be guilty only of misunderstanding her. “To come to you as mistress would require two things: an overpowering love or need on my part, and the absolute impossibility of a legitimate match on yours. But in this instance, I don’t love you, nor do you
love me. And on the other side . . . sir, you aren’t married or otherwise ineligible for marriage. There is no impediment to marriage for you. In fact . . . why have you never married?”
“I will tell you sometime perhaps. Not now. I need to go away and think,” he said, his whole mien expressing dejection and even his posture dispirited. “The more you speak, the more I see . . . how . . . how inappropriate my request was. How shallow. I feel sure that you have underestimated your affect on me, my dear, and how hard this will be for me to accept.”
Hand still on the gate, she watched him turn, as if to walk away, and then turn back.
“One thing, Mrs. Douglas . . . please, may I beg the favor of a kiss from you? I know I rather pushed myself on you last time, and I would erase it with one single solitary kiss from you given of your own free will.”
“I don’t think—”
“Please! As a very great favor, one I promise to never ask again. I shall think you furious with me if you don’t.”
“I don’t think—”
“Please! Mrs. Douglas, please. Just this once and I shall leave you alone.”
“All right,” she said reluctantly, anxious for him to leave and thinking to hasten that moment.
He opened his arms and she let go of the gate and walked into them. He kissed her, gently this time, and yet it left her cold. What would she have done if his proposal had been a legitimate one for marriage? Maybe it was lucky that she would never know. With all her fine-sounding words, she might still have been tempted into a marriage so inconceivably beneficial to her future.
With a sigh he released her, and with one final caress, walked away. He stopped though, looked back and said, “Make my apologies to the ladies. I’m sure I’ll see you all later.”
• • •
Alban watched from a window as Orkenay kissed Mrs. Douglas tenderly, cupped her cheek briefly in his palm and then turned to walk down the path. How touching! What had been agreed between them? the duke wondered, burning with anger. He had not even told the others he was there, resolving to wait until he was fit to see his aunt, after what he had witnessed in the meadow, but he couldn’t tolerate not knowing what was going on. What had that scene at the garden gate meant? There was an intimacy in the earl’s gesture that bespoke some understanding.
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