The Accidental Elopement (Scandalous Miss Brightwells Book 4)

by Beverley Oakley

  “Poor woman. Such ignorance! But as few prospective brides are given the slightest bit of useful information before marriage, it’s hardly surprising. Well, Katherine, suffice to say there are ways to minimise the number of children brought into the world, but we’ll talk about that when you’re about to walk down the aisle. Now, if my eyes aren’t deceiving me, I do believe I see young Jack up ahead. I know he was in Oxford Street outfitting himself for his departure to the West Indies next Monday.”

  Chapter 7

  Jack was surprised he hadn’t noticed Katherine before her aunt hailed him. He was usually extremely conscious of Katherine if she was anywhere in the vicinity.

  At the very moment his attention had been caught by Lady Quamby’s elegant wave, he’d been walking quite quickly through Hyde Park, deep in thought. How many trunks should he transport and what, exactly, should he put in them? Disconcertingly, he was experiencing a sudden and unexpected lack of faith in his ability to fulfill the ambitions of his mother and uncle, and everyone else who believed that he could be an effective overseer for such a large enterprise as the tea plantation to which he was destined.

  “You look like the birds of paradise I’m told I’ll see during my travels,” he told them, doffing his hat upon a gallant bow. “And let me say how much I admire your bonnet, Katherine. If I’d come much closer without knowing it was you, I’d have imagined myself walking towards a rose bush.”

  He liked the coquettish way Katherine patted the profusion of blooms nestled beneath the brim of her elaborately trimmed straw hat and said, as he offered her his arm, “Allow me to escort you to the gates before I return to the duties that lie heavily upon my shoulders.”

  Katherine rested her hand lightly upon his forearm. “I trust you’re coming to the ball tonight because I told George he couldn’t escort me as I’d already promised you.”

  Jack felt a ridiculous jolt of pleasure. “I wasn’t intending to go with so much still to organise, but as I’d hate to see you complicit in unladylike lies, then I’ll look in, if only for an hour or so.”

  “If only all gentlemen were so gallant,” sighed Lady Quamby, turning as an acquaintance hailed her. And as this particular acquaintance was in possession of a pair of fine muscular shoulders padding out his superfine coat, and intense dark eyes above a wolfish smile, Jack was not surprised when she made her excuses, telling him that he’d now have to see Katherine home as she “hadn’t seen Mr Montgomery in a full two months”, inferring there was a great deal for them to catch up on.

  “My aunt is very popular with the gentlemen,” Katherine remarked, as she and Jack strolled beneath the trees.

  “And you appear to be so, too, if the three evenings I’ve observed you holding court like a butterfly queen is anything to go by.”

  “Oh, Jack, that was remarkably poetic. I do like it when you say things like that to me!” She squeezed his arm then sighed, so of course Jack needed to find out what was troubling her.

  “But you’re enjoying yourself? You seem to be.”

  She gave him a wicked smile which he returned, because of course she was silently alluding to their kiss which, if truth be told, he couldn’t stop thinking about, which was most inconvenient when there were so many more important matters he ought to be attending to.

  “Yes, but the choices, Jack! There are so many men who have just the right address, whom I know I could marry, and who’ve shown a decided interest in my company and”

  “Here comes one now. Lord Derry, I believe?”

  Jack assessed the gentleman once they’d been introduced and Katherine was merrily prattling away to his lordship. She was the cleverest coquette, he decided, and Lord Derry was clearly smitten. Jack had no doubt that Katherine could have her pick of any of London’s finest once she’d made up her mind. He should be pleased for her, but he had to admit to just the slightest twinge of jealousy. And disappointment that he’d not be around to observe her final brilliant coup d’etat. Or rather coup de matrimony. He’d have to satisfy himself with hearing about it from his mama when she wrote to him at his far-distant posting across the seas.

  “So, what do you think of Lord Derry?” Katherine quizzed him when they were alone once more.

  “That you need only to click your fingers and you’ll have yourself a rich, titled husband before the season is out.”

  “I mean, do you think he’d make me a suitable husband?”

  Jack shrugged, not enjoying the topic, then sighed as a tall, sartorial-looking fellow with a glossy dark moustache bore down upon them. “I think that you’re going to have to repeat your prettily rehearsed performance of before since here comes another potential suitor. You do realise I intend to stick to you like a leech.”

  “Indeed. I’m certainly not going to turn away only to have your good name besmirched and believe me, this fellow has an expression that suggests he’d like nothing more than to do it.”

  “That’s not very gentlemanly!”

  “I’d wager I’m more of a gentleman than Mr Marwick is.” Jack wasn’t quite sure why he was suddenly becoming so hot under the collar. He took a deep breath and counselled himself to be reasonable. In five days, he’d be off to sea, and he’d probably not see Katherine again for years and when he did, she’d be long married with a brood of children. He tried to put the thought from his head as he extended the requisite courtesies, smiling pleasantly when he’d much rather glower repressively—for all the good that would do—nodding genially as he watched Katherine flirt and simper. Oh, she was good; he had to give her that. Just as Lord Derry had three minutes before, now Mr Marwick looked as if he’d kiss the toes of her neat walking boots if she only asked him.

  Katherine hadn’t thought about her mother’s pearl earrings until her mother declared they’d go perfectly with her dove-grey-and-pink evening dress when Katherine presented herself in the drawing room later that night.

  “Why don’t you run upstairs and fetch them? See if I’m not right,” suggested her mother with a wave of her hand, but Katherine was saved from responding when her father asked, “Are you not fast wearying of the endless social round, my dear? Your little sister was asking the very same question in her last letter from the school room. The precocious child suggests she’ll find a husband faster than you when her time comes.”

  Lord Fenton was seated on the sofa beside his wife, the pair the picture of marital harmony as they sipped Madeira. Aunt Antoinette, looking bored, was reclining in a very relaxed fashion, with one daintily-shod slipper upon the ottoman, studying the half-moons of her right hand. She looked up. “Regardless of whether Katherine is or isn’t wearying of the social round, tonight is one night she can’t cry off since my darling Quamby is hosting the event.” She sighed gustily. “I certainly wish I could cry off.”

  Katherine hesitated in the centre of the Aubusson rug. She’d spent a full two hours on her toilette and had come downstairs full of hope for the evening ahead, but now she put her hand to her heart and said, “I’m looking forward to this evening, immensely, but why aren’t you, Aunt Antoinette?”

  “Monsieur Jervois is unable to attend tonight.” Aunt Antoinette pouted.

  Katherine didn’t miss the warning look her mother sent her sister before she muttered, “Think of your duty to your husband, Antoinette. I’m sorry to say it, but I’m not mourning his broken leg as you are. Tonight you will be the perfect hostess so that Katherine will see how to conduct herself when she is hostess of an event of similar magnitude.”

  “Unless she runs off with the footman which she may well do if she’s allowed to follow her heart—as you’ve told her so anxiously she must do if she’s to avoid the terrible trials our mama put us through.”

  “The trials Mama put me through?” repeated Lady Fenton through gritted teeth, glancing quickly at Katherine before lowering her voice even further to say, “Hush now, Antoinette. You’ve had too much Madeira, and you know how unguarded you can be when it goes to your head. Katherine is looking t
o both of us to set an example.”

  Katherine lowered herself onto the ottoman at her aunt’s feet and reached an arm across to pat her mother’s knee. “Don’t worry, Mama. I shan’t run away with the footman, and I’m sorry, Aunt Antoinette, that you’re not feeling in high spirits like I am, though I’m quite sure you will be soon when all the handsome young men confuse you for my sister and tell you how beautiful you look tonight.”

  “What a treasure!” exclaimed her aunt, clapping her hand over Katherine’s and glancing up as her son entered the room together with his father and another gentleman. “George, why can’t you learn to be so charming? And you too, Quamby? Here I am in a gown that cost you a small fortune and have you paid me one compliment tonight?”

  “I’m seeing you wear it for the first time, my dear,” the earl defended himself, smiling his usual equable smile nevertheless, as with the aid of his sticks and the shoulder of the very handsome young Greek who’d been his attendant the past year, he lowered himself into his armchair by the fire. Raising his lorgnette to more closely scrutinise his wife, he nodded approvingly. “You do me proud, Lady Quamby. And I believe I shall enjoy your undivided attention tonight as we help to ensure that this is an evening for our niece to remember.” He patted the orange curls of his wig as he leaned forward, asking Katherine in conspiratorial tones, “And what young men have taken your fancy during the time you’ve been in London, my dear? Are you pleased that Young George is back in town, early I believe, following a speedy transaction over a bit of horseflesh? Perhaps you are the reason.”

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Quamby!” muttered Aunt Antoinette. “Katherine can do far better than George. Besides, he’s her cousin. They’re practically brother and sister.”

  Katherine shuddered. She couldn’t imagine a more misguided statement. Still, she fluttered her eyelashes and, for a bit of fun, said, “You’ve been missed, Cousin George, since I can rely on you not to bruise my poor toes. Few gentlemen are as light on their feet as you.”

  It wasn’t a wise remark, for she realised later she’d only encouraged George when he claimed the very first dance of the evening, just as she saw both Mr Marwick and Jack advancing with apparently the very same request, from opposite sides of the room. And while it was nice to feel she was so in demand, she rather wished she could have been dancing with Jack so she could regale him with the amusing events that had preceded their arrival.

  Flirting with Mr Marwick was very nice too, she decided as he twirled her about the room, putting his lips to her ear and suggesting they might visit an antechamber just beyond the passage.

  “And risk losing another pearl earring?” she demanded. “I think you ask too much of me, Mr Marwick?”

  “No, no, I wish to return your earring to you.”

  “Then that changes everything!” Katherine declared, smiling at him. “Only, we must be very discreet or”

  She blushed, unexpectedly, for she’d nearly spoken rather recklessly.

  “Or I’d have an irate papa demanding redress?” He appeared to contemplate the idea, raising his eyes to the ceiling before saying, “I can’t say that would be too great a hardship, Miss Fenton. Having known you a full seven days, I think you only grow more charming.”

  Katherine wasn’t quite sure how she felt at such fulsome praise delivered with such clear but veiled desire. Katherine changed the subject. “Oh, there’s my cousin, Jack.” She hailed him as the music came to an end. “I promised him the next dance,” she explained, “as of course you can’t possibly dance with me a third time tonight.”

  “Only if I had certain intentions, that’s true. However, I would very much like to secure you for another waltz before the night is through.”

  Katherine agreed to this, but she couldn’t wait to hurl herself into Jack’s arms. As soon as she’d extricated herself from Mr Marwick, she told Jack, “I’m so worn out with all this dancing; can’t you take me away somewhere quiet instead?”

  He seemed quite happy to oblige, and standing by a large epergne in the centre of the room where there were no other guests, Katherine told him her dilemma regarding the earring.

  “He says he has it, but he’ll only give it to me if I meet him in the anteroom beyond the passage.”

  “Unconscionable!” Jack replied with great feeling so that Katherine happily gripped his arm and said, “That’s very nice of you to think that, but it was my own fault that I lost my earring, and it was because I was kissing him, so it’s hardly surprising he suggested it.” She hesitated. “The only problem is that Mama is being extra vigilant, and I know that Papa would create quite a scene since this is Uncle Quamby’s home, so I daren’t risk it. I wondered if you’d be so good as to get it from him for me.”

  Jack shrugged. “I’ll try.”

  “Would you? You see, I need it by tomorrow because Mama said she’d come looking for it. So, if you could just hide it under your pillow, since you’re staying here tonight, then I’ll know where to fetch it if you go out gaming, or I turn in early and we don’t see each other again.” Katherine gave his hand a quick squeeze. “You really are so lovely, Jack. I’m going to be so sad to say goodbye to you on Monday.”

  She smiled sadly up at him. He really was her knight in shining armour, agreeing to fetch her earring from Mr Marwick; saving her from having her toes trodden upon by George.

  And he wouldn’t even be around to witness the magnificent marriage she intended to make. Perhaps, as a result of her future matrimonial conquest, she might be in a position to aid Jack in climbing the ladder to greater social and financial success.

  He certainly deserved it.

  Chapter 8

  Katherine had started off her evening feeling perfectly marvellous about everything. Her maid had done a remarkable twist with her hair, looping it and braiding it and curling it in all the right places. Combined with her new pale-pink silk gown with its gigot sleeves and ankle-length skirt over stiffened linen petticoats, and corset cut in the new style to emphasise her breasts and, of course, minimise her already small waist, she couldn’t help preening when Cousin George declared she was the most beautiful girl in the room.

  George, as usual, looked ridiculous in a pair of tight-fitting ivory trousers and waist-pinching lavender jacket with exaggerated puffed sleeves, a spotted cravat and high collar, but Katherine made the mistake of responding to his compliment by telling him he looked like a prize prince. Not that it was intended to actually be a compliment, but rather, Katherine had aired the phrase as she idly fanned herself, to see how he’d react to what, really, was a dressed-up way of telling him he looked rather foolish.

  Instead, to her initial consternation, he gripped her hand and tugged her close, so that for a second as he led her onto the dance floor she could feel his moist breath uncomfortably close to her face. “You are a jewel, Katherine,” he murmured. “A jewel, and no woman here tonight can hold a candle to you.”

  After her surprise, Katherine laughed. “Really, George, you don’t say things like that to one’s cousin.”

  “One does if they’re incomparable, as you are, Katherine. Why, when we were growing up, I used to think you held me in disdain. You and Jack were always dancing about together, leaving me out of the play. Teasing me.” His brow puckered.

  “But George, you were always sneaking up behind Jack and knocking him flat, then laughing and running away. I don’t recall that we left you out of anything that you hadn’t already decided you wanted no part of.”

  “I always wanted to be part of whatever you were doing, Katherine.” The music was leisurely, which gave him every opportunity to emphasise his feelings which, clearly, were intense. “I let Jack be my friend only so I could be with you. The boy was nothing, coming from the foundling home, but I was magnanimous, do you not remember?”

  Katherine couldn’t remember a single occasion when George had ever been magnanimous, but she realised it was better not to argue. George was impossible to disagree with for he always bec
ame defensive and petulant. And as he was holding her in a waltz hold it was simply better to say, “I’m sure you always meant to be kind.”

  “And I would be kind to you, Katherine, if you’d let me.”

  “What?” She blinked in surprise at this unexpected turn in the conversation.

  He pressed her closer to him, his eyes bright with an unnatural fervour. It was rather unnerving, and Katherine was very glad to be in the midst of several hundred people who, fortunately, were oblivious to her cousin’s passionate outburst.

  “I’d revere you like the most precious flower. I’d place you on a pedestal and kiss your slippers. I’d worship you.”

  “Well, that certainly sounds much pleasanter than tugging my plaits as you were forever doing when we were children, George, but really, I don’t want you to revere me or kiss my slippers.” Flippancy, she decided, was the best way to tackle this. Ignoring his glower, she went on, “But as we’re cousins, we can enjoy all the time we spend together under the same roof while I’m here looking for a husband.” She emphasised it ever so slightly to draw the distinction.

  “You think I’m too young for a wife”

  “Lord, George, of course you are! We’re both only eighteen, but I’m here with the express purpose of finding myself a good husband while you’re here”

  “Because you are!” he cut her off. “Katherine, I know I’m young, but if you’ll only wait”

  “Really, George, I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in my life. At eighteen, you’re still a boy! I’m looking for a man!”

  She was relieved when the music came to an end and he led her off the dance floor and deposited her with her mama and aunt.