Kate’s family was unimpeachable although poor as church mice. He smiled. His eccentric uncle didn’t care for most of his own kind. He’d thought aristocrats too lazy and dependent on others to care for them, and at times too inbred. Indeed, it was unusual, but Uncle Alford had admired all forms of endeavor, from poets to inventors. He’d talked at length of James Watt’s invention of a steam engine to work a mine pump and had often said he wished he’d lived a more productive life.
Might this be the reason he’d chosen Kate? Was it his belief that a more satisfactory life could be had for Robert with someone of her background? His uncle might have asked him. Robert would have been happy to set him straight. A man could go about his business without needing a wife at his side. An heir and a spare were necessary, of course, but he should have liked to choose the lady and taken his own good time to do it.
Robert topped off the brandy in his glass. A wedding as soon as possible would be wise, and hopefully an heir would quickly follow. Perhaps Kate was the perfect choice. This unsophisticated young woman would never have the wherewithal to get under his skin or have the power to hurt him as Millicent had done.
Once married and his heir secured, he would return to the caresses of his accomplished mistress and the life he enjoyed in London.
Chapter Two
Kate woke as Rebecca entered the bedchamber bearing a cup of steaming hot chocolate. She sipped it while the maid drew back the draperies and threw open the window. The sun streamed in, the breeze carrying with it the strong briny smell of the sea. From her bed, Kate viewed the blue sky beyond the window, and heard the cries of the sea birds. Invigorated, she was ready to tackle whatever the day had in store. Perhaps it was best not to examine too closely what that might be, having in mind the strange events of yesterday.
“I’ll wear the green damask, Rebecca.”
Kate left the bed and went to perch on the window seat, gazing out. An area of clipped grass bordered the rocky foreshore. The sea was so different today, the deep violet-blue, rolling waves sparkled in the sunlight. A man astride a black stallion appeared below with Felix following, tongue lolling. Robert. A strange nervous tension settled low in her stomach. Perhaps she needed breakfast.
Flicking her plait over her shoulder, Kate began to unravel her hair, fearing it was too long to be stylish. “Can you put up my hair, Rebecca?”
“Yes, miss. I’ve quite a way with hair, I’m told.”
Seated before the mirror, the maid brushed Kate’s waist-length locks. Her father had disliked the fashions in her mother’s magazines. He preferred women to be without artifice. Tucked away in their small community, Kate had little interest in following the fashion trends. Even at the Oxford assemblies, neatness was favored over high fashion. Now it became a source of anxiety. She wasn’t at all sure what a lady should wear on any given occasion. Her eyes went owlish in the mirror. She was sure to make a faux pas and embarrass herself and Robert.
If he became her husband.
An hour later, a little more confident, Kate entered the breakfast room, patting her hair, braided and pinned close to her head. Robert sat at the table reading the Gentleman’s Magazine with bacon and eggs, and a cup of coffee before him. He rose and bowed. “Good morning, Kate.”
“Good morning.” The footman held out a chair for her and she sat, nodding her thanks when he poured her coffee. “After breakfast, I should like to see my godfather’s will, if I may.”
His dark brows arched. “You are questioning my interpretation of the will?”
“No, of course not. But it would be foolish of me not to read it, don’t you think?”
His astounded gaze searched hers. Yes, she had been right, his eyes were more blue than green. It pleased her that she’d surprised him. Perhaps he would not be so quick to take her for granted. She wiggled slightly in her chair, very happy with herself.
A servant carried in a tray and unloaded it before her. Warm rolls, scrambled eggs, and ham, a pot of marmalade, and a small jug of buttery-colored cream.
Kate helped herself to the eggs and ham, and ate quickly, while Robert talked of how they might spend the day.
She reached for a roll. “Mm. What lovely thick cream.” She spread it and the jam liberally over the bread.
Robert observed her with a faint smile. “You have a hearty appetite.”
“It’s pleasant to discover different foods than those one is used to.” She took a bite of the roll, savoring it. “As the day is fine, I should like to see more of St. Malin.”
“Then we must make the most of it. The weather can change swiftly here. Storms roll in across the ocean.”
“I trust you enjoyed your morning ride?”
“You saw me?”
“From my window. I was admiring the view.” She added the last, not wishing him to think she’d spied on him. It occurred to her that he was part of that view, and she had been admiring him. She lowered her head over her plate.
When she looked up, a spark of interest had brightened his eyes. “Do you ride, Kate?”
“Of course. You would ask a country girl that?”
“Then I’ll show you over the St. Malin lands after you’ve read the will.” He dropped his gaze to her gown. “I gather you brought a riding habit?”
“I did.” She doubted he would approve of it, though, as it was a style from several seasons ago. She glanced at his immaculate blue coat. He was even more unnerving this morning in riding clothes. Last night, the marquess had seemed like a peacock in his silk taffeta coat. He’d made her a little apprehensive, but she’d felt reasonably capable of standing up to him. He was different today, the rightful lord of the manor, his clothes emphasizing his narrow waist and broad shoulders. In a way, he was closer to her vision of a knight of old. One of King Arthur’s court. His carefully constructed wall still in place to fend off trespassers. Amused at her woolgathering, Kate smiled.
“What’s amusing?”
He’d taken to reading his paper again, and she hadn’t realized he was watching her. “Just a thought.”
“Care to tell me?”
Her cheeks grew warm. “You wouldn’t find it amusing.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you give me the benefit of the doubt?”
Heavens. What had she got herself into? Could he read her mind? She squirmed in her seat. “I, uh, was thinking about this old castle. I could envisage a knight riding into the forecourt in his armor.”
He studied her. “I have a feeling you’ve left something out.”
She shrugged. Surely her thoughts were her own at least. “It wasn’t important.” She glowered at him. “Really.”
“As you wish.” He rattled his paper as if he’d grown annoyed. “You have an active imagination. Are you artistic like your father?”
“I suspect I am.”
“Excellent. You’ll find much to divert you when by yourself.”
She crumbled the last of her roll while studying him from under her lashes. His coal-black hair was thick and silky, his skin smooth and olive-toned. His dark brows formed a peak when she’d surprised him, and they almost met in the middle when he frowned. He had frowned a lot during the previous evening, but now a tiny smile, albeit a self-satisfied one at dealing with her and then tidying her away, in one of his properties, no doubt, hovered around his generous mouth. She wished she could find something witty to say. She suffered an urge to make him laugh, but that urge died when he resumed talking.
“If you find the situation to your liking, we could be married in the parish church here. I’ll arrange it with the parson and return to Doctors Commons in London for a special license.”
A piece of bread lodged in Kate’s throat. She spluttered.
“Are you all right?”
She took a long sip of coffee. “Yes, I think so. It’s just that it’s so sudden.” She needed time to get used to the idea, but apparently, she wasn’t going to get it.
“Yes, it is, and I’m sorry. I know you women
like to turn the occasion into something special. Family and so forth. But you don’t have brothers or sisters, do you?”
“No. Do you?”
“Yes. A half-sister and half-brother.”
Kate longed to be part of a large, boisterous family. “Would they come here? If we should marry.”
“No.”
“But your parents will.”
“I’m afraid not.”
Shocked, she said, “They won’t come to your wedding?”
“As I have said.” His eyes turned glacial, and his expression brooked no more questions.
She gazed at him uneasily, wondering what lay behind his bleak countenance. Was he ashamed of her?
Then, as if the subject of his family had been neatly tidied away, he drank the last of his coffee, put the cup on its saucer, and folded his arms. “I gather this means that you’ve accepted me?”
“You shall have your answer after I read the will. As we have agreed.”
Robert would not tidy her away quite so easily. She pushed her plate away. He took her for granted and did not consider her feelings at all. And he would have to ask her properly.
“As you wish,” he said mildly, and returned to his newspaper as if all would be resolved like magic just to suit him. Everyone must dance to his tune.
Kate drank the last of her coffee and glowered at him.
Apparently oblivious, he folded his newspaper, pushed back his chair, and stood. “You must excuse me, I’m attempting to sort out my uncle’s affairs. You’ll find me in the library.”
“Very well, my lord.”
He paused at the door. “Robert.”
“Robert,” she amended.
After he left the room, Kate glanced out the window. She would take a walk through the garden before she followed him to the library.
When she entered the room an hour later, Robert pulled out a chair for her. He placed the document before her. “I shall leave you to read it. Anything that concerns you, please ask me.” He left the room.
More than a little daunted by the legal jargon, Kate labored over it. Although difficult to decipher on first reading, it did appear to be as Robert had said. She was not surprised at the amount of money and estates involved, only that her godfather had cared so much about her to secure her future. She wished she’d had a chance to know him better.
Even so, couldn’t he have left her a small stipend? Why tie her and his nephew together? He had been a little odd. That much she recalled. She remembered the unusual snuff box he carried better than she did him. A large pig was engraved on the silver box with a ruby for an eye. He’d had it specially made. Why a pig? She’d asked him. Amusement lit his eyes, and he’d stated that pigs, unlike humans, were admirable beasts. She hadn’t been sure if he was joking.
Would Robert prove to be as unfathomable? Was it a family trait? She put the document down and left the library, accepting the inevitable. They would marry, and even though a woman didn’t have much sway, she was determined it wouldn’t all be on Robert’s terms.
Kate dressed in her olive-green riding habit. The cloth was faded and her hat outmoded, for it had belonged to her mother. Robert would disapprove, but she wouldn’t let it bother her, she was looking forward to riding over the estate.
At the stables, he greeted her with a smile and thankfully, made no comment about her habit. She smiled up at him, relieved to have escaped criticism.
Robert assisted her to mount a small roan mare. Kate would have preferred something more challenging but decided it was prudent not to mention it now. As they rode out into the sunny afternoon, she was soon smitten with the beautiful countryside around St. Malin where a strong sea breeze blew the branches of the trees about. It was very different to Oxfordshire, but she was fast coming to love the fresh, briny scent and the limitless view of the ocean right to the horizon.
She and Robert trotted their horses through the village. Slate-roofed, whitewashed cottages clustered around a small harbor where fishing boats bobbed on the water.
They turned their horses inland where the hills were ablaze with pink and purple heath. The last of the summer roses tumbled over dry stone walls in the country lanes. The fields crisscrossed with hedgerows.
Kate guided her horse after Robert’s through a gap in a hedge onto a meadow of golden gorse. Willows trailed their long graceful branches in the water and in the distance, the crenellated tower of the castle appeared through the trees. Thomas Gainsborough might have liked to paint it.
The breeze ruffled the leaves of a spreading oak where Robert dismounted. He tethered his horse to a branch and came to assist her down.
“You’ve said little since reading the will. What did you make of it?” he asked as he held up his arms.
She could feel herself wanting his touch and leaned toward him. “I managed to understand most of it. I was surprised that my godfather cared so much about me. I hardly knew him.”
“He was a difficult man to know. But he had a good heart.”
“Yes, I can see that,” she said breathlessly as his large hands bracketed her waist drawing her down to set her on her feet. She looked away, suddenly shy. It seemed intimate and a little scandalous to be alone with him. Rather thrilling, in fact. He towered over her, so powerfully masculine. His enticing sandalwood cologne had wafted around her as he’d lowered her to the ground.
He stepped away. “Will it be so difficult for you if we don’t marry?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Life would go on much as it has done, I expect.”
She could believe that. He was now a marquess, and a very wealthy one whatever she decided. And he had no desire to marry her. It was she who would suffer most. Her future would be unsure without an act of generosity on Robert’s part. Could she convince him to do something for her, without them marrying?
Her parents had been in love, and she’d wanted the same for herself. This arrangement offered none of the emotional depth she’d anticipated. What sort of existence awaited her, closeted in a mansion alone with servants, while her husband came rarely to see her?
She would be happier with a simpler life. Even a small farm like one of those they’d ridden past. A thatched-roofed cottage with a few cows, pigs, ducks, and chickens… And yet, she forced herself to look into his blue eyes, searching for just a sign of warm anticipation at the prospect of spending his life with her. He did not press for her answer, apparently already sure of what it would be. Why would he not be? A woman in her circumstances had little choice, but that didn’t stop her wayward thoughts or her last hope for a future of her choosing.
“And what of my life? What will happen to me if we fail to marry?”
“I can’t answer that with any certainty, but I assume…” He spread his hands as though his empty palms reflected the empty life she would surely have. “Would you prefer I secure you a position in a household nearby? Perhaps as a governess? I know that my neighbor—” Apparently, he would not offer her a stipend. And she suspected he was toying with her.
She swallowed hard. “You must ask me properly.”
His brows peaked. “So I should,” he said with a laugh.
Despite her misgivings, Kate smiled. He had a lovely laugh, full-bodied and joyful. She liked him better when he laughed, his reserve dropped away. She wished to hear more of it but was silenced when he solemnly knelt before her.
He gazed up at her, a smile on his lips and a twinkle lurking in his eyes. “Kate, will you give me the greatest pleasure of becoming my wife?”
She took a deep breath. Say no, she urged herself. They were very different people. It would not work. She would struggle to measure up to him and probably fail, no matter how hard she tried. There was no love in his smile, just a rather lazy and lustful glance. That smile might set her pulses racing, but she’d wanted much more from marriage, hadn’t she? She suspected he would agree to financial assistance, even a cottage, if she asked for it. Ask for it, her mind urged her. But he gazed at her in such a way th
at her body wasn’t listening. “I will, my lord.”
“My name is Robert, remember?” His voice carried a seductive tone as he rose and gazed at her mouth. A hot expression entered his eyes, and he took a step closer. She swallowed, and trembling, resisted the urge to step back. Did he mean to make love to her? Perhaps even before their marriage vows had been taken? She was vulnerable, with no one to chaperone her. He might do what he liked with her now. The thought was shocking, but not entirely unpleasant, especially when he stood so close and made her feel small and rather fragile.
But it was all happening too fast. Confused, she wanted his touch and yet was afraid that if it happened too soon, before she could give herself to him, gladly and with at least affection, it would set the tone of their marriage and irrevocably spoil any chance of it becoming a love-match.
She placed a hand on his chest as he leaned close to her. “But please allow me to make a demand of my own.”
He straightened. “But of course.”
“I need time to get to know you before we… consummate the marriage.”
He frowned. “How much time?”
She touched her mouth with her fingers. “It’s hard to say. When we get to know each other better.”
“I bow to your wishes.” He made her an elaborate bow. When he raised his head, she saw something flicker in his eyes. Was it annoyance or frustration? The delay for an heir would mean he’d have to spend more time with her.
The Marquess Meets His Match Page 3
