“Do you have to get them?”
“Certainly I must. We brought them, did we not? I can’t very well tell them that they have to hire a hansom. Has Lady Priscilla done something to upset you? I know she often speaks without thinking.”
She shook her head briskly. “No, of course Lady Priscilla hasn’t upset me. It’s simply that you and I never seem to have any time alone.”
“Time alone? That’s an American courting ritual that we have yet to adopt over here. A gentleman does not put a lady in a compromising position where she might draw unwarranted gossip.”
A gentleman might not, but Weddington certainly had no qualms about doing exactly that.
“But we never have any time together when it’s only you and me,” she told him.
“Tomorrow, we’ll do something.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. We’ll take a stroll through Hyde Park or visit the zoological gardens.”
His suggestions weren’t what she had in mind. Surrounded by crowds, they still wouldn’t be alone, but she was still reeling from her encounter with Weddington and hadn’t the will to object. She would take what Farthingham offered and be glad for it.
“Let’s go the back way round to the carriage,” he suggested. “I’m not sure you want anyone to see you quite so upset.”
“I don’t. You’re so kind, Nicky.”
“Of course, I am.”
With his arm around her, she allowed him to lead her around the house and toward the carriage. Everything would be all right now. Nicky would keep her safe. With him, she would always be safe.
Chapter 13
“Oh, look, Farthingham went and did it!” Anne exclaimed.
Richard looked up from his breakfast and scowled at his sister where she sat at the far end of the table with The Times spread before her. His mother leaned toward Anne, as though striving to see what had captured her daughter’s attention.
“Did what?” Richard asked curtly, still irritated that Anne had arrived at the table before him and claimed his newspaper. It put him out of sorts not to begin his day with The Times close at hand.
“Announced his betrothal to Miss Robertson.”
Richard came up out of his chair with such force that it overturned—quite an accomplishment considering how heavy it was. He stormed to the other end of the table, barely noticing the widening of his sister’s eyes as he snatched the paper from her grasp. He quickly scanned the words that confirmed his worst fears. “Damnation!”
“Richard!” His mother chastised. “Your language. Ladies are present.”
“My profound apologies, Mother, Anne. Watkins!”
The butler suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Yes, Your Grace?”
“Alert my driver that I need a carriage immediately.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Richard, whatever is wrong?” his mother asked.
“Nothing. I simply wish to visit Farthingham and offer him my congratulations regarding his announcement.”
His mother blinked as though he’d lost his mind. He was beginning to think that perhaps he had.
“This is hardly an appropriate time of morning to be calling on anyone.”
“I am well aware of that.” Then he stalked out of the room, the paper still clutched in his white-knuckled grasp.
Richard burst through the door into Farthingham’s parlor.
“My lord, I’m terribly sorry,” the butler stammered behind him. “I tried to stop him.”
“It’s quite all right,” Farthingham said as he sat up straighter and set his teacup on the table beside the sofa in which he lounged. “I was expecting the duke to call.”
Richard stood his ground, silent and angry, until the door clicked closed behind him, leaving only him and Farthingham to square off.
“It appears you’ve seen the announcement,” Farthingham said drolly.
“You said you’d wait until the end of the Season.”
“She wanted the announcement made.” Farthingham came to his feet, walked to the window, and gazed out on the street. “I gave you every opportunity to win her over.”
“A game of charades, a walk in your—”
“She doesn’t want you, man. Accept it. She is not a prize to be won.”
Taking a threatening step forward, Richard experienced an unnatural urge to wrap his hands around Farthingham’s aristocratic neck. “Not a prize? Are you daft? She is the only prize in this world worth winning.”
“Then you shouldn’t have followed her into Harrington’s garden.”
Shaking his head, Richard gazed down at the rumpled newspaper still clutched in his hand. “I was trying to protect her—”
“I know, and I’m grateful. I didn’t realize she saw me slip out. I thought I was being so cleverly discreet.” He shook his head as though the action would undo the damage he’d almost caused. “I owe you for diverting her attention away from her search for me.”
Richard shook the paper at him. “You have a damned strange way of showing your appreciation.”
“She wanted the announcement posted, was quite adamant about it,” Farthingham repeated. “I told you before that I would do everything to see her happy.”
“Why you? What does she see in you?”
“I’m charming, fun, witty, and have a wonderful sense of humor, which you do not possess even a hint of. You’re surly, competitive, controlling.”
“You’ll destroy her.”
“Once we are married, I’ll dedicate my life to her. No more sneaking out at parties for a bit of tomfoolery. No more surrounding myself with others so she doesn’t notice that she might not have my complete attention. As I’ve said before, Weddington, I’m extremely fond of Kitty. I can play the part of attentive husband.”
Fond? He wanted to smash his fist into the man’s face. “She deserves more than fondness and someone merely playing the part.”
“Be that as it may, she doesn’t want you. Even I can see from the manner in which she watches you that she’s not comfortable around you. It’s as though you terrify her.”
Richard dropped heavily into a nearby chair. “I don’t understand. I’ve never harmed her. What is there to fear?”
“Who can understand the workings of a woman’s mind? This woman’s especially. Kitty is unlike any woman I’ve ever known.”
“When will you marry her?”
“At the end of the Season. Sometime in August, September perhaps. We’ve not yet set the exact date, but she no longer wishes to wait.”
“Do you still plan to spend a few days at Drummond Manor?”
“Yes, of course. Unless you’d rather we didn’t.”
Richard stood, his mind reeling. He’d demonstrated only a few nights before what he could offer her. Why was she now intent on rushing to the altar? “We’d be most pleased to entertain you,” he finally said, recognizing that Farthingham had fewer answers than he did.
With nothing more to say, he headed for the door.
“Weddington?”
Halting, Richard looked back over his shoulder. Morning light streamed through the window, giving Farthingham an angelic appearance.
“Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps you are the one who could destroy her?”
Without a word, Richard charged out of Farthingham’s house. On the journey home, as the carriage swayed and clattered over the streets of London, he allowed the ominous chill to sweep through him as Farthingham’s words echoed through his mind, words with which he was far too familiar, words that had haunted him from the first moment he’d spotted Kitty at the seashore—
That it was indeed he who would destroy her.
The flowers arrived an hour before Weddington did. A simple bouquet of yellow roses. No note this time, but Kitty didn’t require one to know they were from him. She didn’t know why the gesture touched her so, or why she joined him in the garden while her mother sipped tea on the terrace. Surely, it would have been wiser to feign a headache.<
br />
But wisdom seemed to elude her. She shored up her pride and did meet him, strolling beside him, unable to meet his eyes. She’d not seen him since the night of the Harringtons’ ball, since their time in the garden there—and she hadn’t truly seen him then. At least not with her eyes. Her body had certainly recognized him.
She wondered why he’d come when it was too late to undo what she’d insisted be done hastily. Her betrothal was now official. She no longer had the option of turning back, changing her mind or her course. Honor, duty, responsibility, all woven tightly together, impenetrable, because a few words printed in black ink changed a possibility into an obligation. She would marry the Marquess of Farthingham and never again be tempted with the forbidden desires offered by the Duke of Weddington.
She refused to be the daughter of the woman who’d given birth to her, refused to accept the lustful thoughts and stark images of nude, writhing bodies that haunted her. She would not give in to wicked temptation. She possessed a strong resolve, a will as unbending as the iron tracks her father had laid down for the railroads.
“We’ve been in the garden for all of a quarter of an hour, Your Grace, and you’ve not yet spoken, which makes it difficult to determine why you are here,” she said, finally gathering up the courage to end the silence when she feared what might lie on the other side of it.
“I wanted to see you again.”
“It’s entirely inappropriate considering the fact that I am now officially betrothed to Lord Farthingham. And don’t dare spout off about his making me unhappy when he has already proven your prediction false.”
He chuckled low. “By God, but you are loyal. I wonder if he truly appreciates exactly how magnificent a catch you are. I would surrender my fortune for such loyalty.”
“It cannot be purchased, Your Grace. My dedication to Lord Farthingham comes from my heart. It is pure”—she wanted to say as pure as she was, but he had the knowledge to refute that false claim since he was the one who lured her with impurity—“and will see us in good stead.”
“I have no doubt of your devotion or how well it will serve you. I find myself envying a man whom I never thought to envy in the slightest.”
“Other American ladies are in London for the Season.”
“Ah, yes, but among all of them there is only one you.”
“You flatter me, Your Grace.”
“Obviously not enough, or you wouldn’t have hastened with your announcement and sealed your fate.”
“I don’t know how to say this any more plainly: I do not feel for you what I feel for Farthingham.”
“No, you feel much more for me, something deeper, more torrid—”
“You touch me in ways that I do not wish to be touched, and I’m not referring only to the physical liberties which you took the other night.” Tears stung her eyes. “And don’t you dare tell me that I enjoyed it.”
She had, but dear God, she didn’t want it acknowledged, especially by him.
“Passion is not something to hide from. I know I stir it within you, because I feel the same stirring.”
Stopping abruptly and shoving her crossed arms beneath her breasts, she faced him and hissed, “I did nothing to make you feel as you made me feel.”
“You need only breathe to stir the flames of my desire for you.”
Shaking her head in frustration, she studied every line, curve, angle of his face, striving to find something that would explain what drew her to him when she had no wish to be drawn. “Why do you do this? Why do you persist in tormenting me?”
He looked as though she’d slapped him. “I don’t understand why you see the gift of pleasure as torment.”
“It is not your gift to give to me.”
“Farthingham’s gifts in that arena will pale when compared against mine.”
“How can you be so certain? Are you some sort of voyeur? Have you watched him make love?”
“Of course not. But his reasons for marrying you—”
“I am well aware of the reasons he is marrying me. What you have failed to take into consideration is why I am marrying him!”
He seemed to come up short at that, as though totally taken aback by her words. “Why are you marrying him?”
“I like the way he makes me feel, I like the way that I am when I am with him.”
“Without passion,” he stated succinctly.
“Does everything with you come down to passion, and mating, and animalistic desires? What happened in Harrington’s garden was uncivilized and barbaric. Yes, you possess the undeniable ability to make my body sing, but, Your Grace, I take no pleasure in the tune!”
She spun on her heel, striding quickly toward the house, leaving him standing where he was, apparently dumbfounded.
Her mother stood as she neared. “Is everything all right, Kitty?”
“Couldn’t be lovelier. I’ve taken a sudden headache is all. I’m going to lie down.”
But once she reached her room, she curled up in a chair, not the bed. She didn’t want to sleep, didn’t want to dream about Weddington. Every time she closed her eyes, he spawned dreams that left her hot, damp, and gasping for breath.
Only marriage to Farthingham would rid her of those shameful desires. She bit her knuckles while tears streamed down her face. Dear God, the marriage couldn’t happen soon enough.
Chapter 14
“Is Weddington’s home not absolutely magnificent?” Farthingham asked.
Standing within the entry hallway of Drummond Manor, waiting while the butler followed Farthingham’s request that the family be alerted to the arrival of their guests, Kitty admitted that she was indeed impressed. “It’s very grand, but I still prefer your ancestral home.”
“Is she not a dear?” Farthingham asked looking at Freddie and Lady Priscilla before taking Kitty’s gloved hand and pressing a kiss to its back. “With the help of your father’s settlement, we shall restore Farthingham to its grandeur, but even then, I have serious doubts that it will rival this residence.”
Lady Priscilla giggled. “And this isn’t even Weddington’s main residence. You should see those grounds. They and the house are incredible. Lady Anne would invite me to visit, and I might be there days before the duke would even notice that I’d arrived.”
“I would always notice,” Freddie said.
Lady Priscilla giggled again. “You are too sweet by half. I do wish you’d reconsider this silly plan of yours to go to America.”
“Why? So that I might become your lover? You’d never marry me, Prissy, and well you know it. I am fifth in line, not likely to inherit, and even if I were, your tastes are too expensive.”
“Your words are all too true. Still, we can have fun this last Season.”
“Ah, you’ve arrived!” Lady Anne called out as she hurried down the sweeping staircase.
“Where’s your brother?” Farthingham asked as he pressed a kiss to Lady Anne’s hand.
“Richard got called away this morning to see to some problem with something or someone involved with the estate. I pay as much attention to him when he mentions business concerns as he does when I discuss gowns. Which is none at all. He’ll return this evening. Meanwhile, I’m to entertain.” She slipped her arm around Kitty’s. “Come along, I’ll show you to your rooms.”
Kitty hesitated, suddenly uncomfortable with the notion of staying there. “If your brother has business concerns, maybe we shouldn’t impose right now. We could return to London, perhaps visit another time.”
“Oh, no, don’t be silly,” Lady Anne said. “Richard always has business concerns. If you waited until he didn’t, you’d never visit. I honestly don’t know how he manages all that he does. Mother swears he’s not human.”
Perhaps that would explain his hold on her. Otherworldly.
Arm in arm with Kitty, Lady Anne led her up the stairs, the others trailing in her wake.
“Speaking of your mother, is she about?” Farthingham asked.
“No, she stayed i
n London,” Lady Anne said. “She prefers visiting with her friends to the loneliness of Drummond Manor.”
“Why does she find it lonely?” Kitty asked. “There’s a lovely town near here where my family stayed before we went on to London.”
“It’s too near the sea,” Lady Anne said quietly. “It reminds her of Father and all that happened…” Her voice trailed off, before picking up with resounding enthusiasm. “You’re all to make yourselves at home here. You may make use of the stables, the gardens, anything you wish.”
“The duke’s liquor cabinet?” Farthingham asked.
Laughing, Lady Anne glanced over her shoulder. “By all means! When has my brother ever denied you your liquor?”
“That’s true. Weddington has always been a most generous host.”
They reached the landing where sunlight streamed in through a wall of windows. The opposite wall had many doors.
“This bedchamber has been reserved for you, Miss Robertson,” Lady Anne said, opening the door. “I’ll have your bags brought up.”
Kitty smiled. “Are the family’s rooms on this hallway as well?”
“Oh, no. Our rooms are in other wings. I’ll give you the grand tour once you’ve rested.”
While Lady Anne escorted the others to their rooms, Kitty walked through hers, admiring the fine workmanship of the furniture, the detailed carvings in the dark wood, the comforter spread over the bed, and the heavy draperies that hung from the canopy. The comforter and draperies were lavishly decorated with the family crest. On a long table set along the foot of the bed were several books, atop one was a yellow rose, and beneath it a slip of folded paper.
Ignoring the letter, she walked to the window and gazed out on the beautiful Cornish countryside and the sea beyond. From here, she imagined she could see the path that Weddington would have walked to the spot where she’d first sighted him, where he took his daily swim, where she’d first realized the power of temptation.
She glanced over at the table, the rose, the books, the letter. His letter, she was certain. What had he written? Was he really away on business or was he waiting for her by the shore, hoping for a clandestine meeting? Was his letter a summons?
An Invitation to Seduction Page 15
