Still, living under her aunt and uncle’s roof in London as a scandal-ridden impecunious widow, was preferable to existing in a hovel never sure of what mood her husband would be in when he woke up.
Which, fortunately, had not generally coincided with her waking hours; she’d made sure of that.
At the sound of footsteps in the passage, she nervously patted her ringlets and tugged at her décolletage before sinking demurely onto the gold chintz sofa. She would weather the inevitable altercation with dignity, she told herself, as she clenched her hands into fists while feigning a pleasant smile to greet the arrivals the moment they walked through the door.
The reaction was no less scandalised than she’d expected.
“Katherine! You’re not going out wearing crimson when you should be in mourning and eschewing worldly delights for at least another four months, darling,” her mother admonished her, sweeping across the room and facing her squarely.
“It’s deep rose, not crimson.” Katherine had been practising an easy unaffectedness she was far from feeling, but still her voice shook. “Besides, it’s not as if Freddy deserves me to mourn him a day more than… Well, I think I’ve been punished long enough, and I’m sure nobody at Lady Garwood’s ball will be counting the months.”
“Oh, but they will, Katherine,” her mother countered, biting her lip and taking a seat beside Katherine. She patted her arm as if trying to work up the courage to tell her something. “Katherine, I know things have not been…easy for you these last years, but I truly believe that if you behave yourself with decorum, obey the rules and avoid scrutiny, all will be forgotten, and you’ll have a second chance at being happy.”
Katherine bristled. “It’s not my fault matters were misconstrued. I’m blameless, Mama, I told you!”
“I’m sure we both believe you, Katherine.” Antoinette tapped her fingertips on the mantelpiece. “But society is not so forgiving.”
Her mother, usually so carefree, looked imploring. “Please, Katherine, I think it’s unwise for you to go out in public. And certainly not wearing a gown like that.”
Katherine took a deep breath and bit her lip to try and keep her anger under control. “Aunt Antoinette gets away with far worse than I’ve ever done.”
“Katherine!” Although her mother was quick to her sister’s defence, it was Antoinette who called for peace. “What Katherine says is perfectly true,” she said mildly. “But Katherine, I’m well protected being married to Quamby. The earl has weathered society’s opprobrium, and now that I’ve done my duty and provided him with an heir, I’m given greater licence than might otherwise be the case.”
“So, if I’d just given Freddy a son I’d be forgiven for taking a lover?” Katherine took a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut, afraid the tears might spill. “I could be more reconciled to the impossible situation I find myself in if I truly were guilty of taking a lover.” She swallowed and dashed away a tear with the back of her hand. “I don’t expect you to believe me, but Lord Derry took advantage of my distress, and now everyone believes I was willingly in his arms only days after Freddy was in his grave. And suddenly word was all over town that Derry and I had been lovers on and off since my reckless elopement.”
Lady Fenton put her arm about Katherine’s shoulders, but Katherine was too agitated for such consoling. She knew she had the sympathy of both her aunt and her sister, but they were not society. And it was society that counted.
“Katherine, I believe you, and even if you were guilty as charged I’d forgive you, knowing Freddy as I did,” her mother said. “But please, promise you’ll do as we ask?”
“I’ll change my dress, if that’s what you mean,” Katherine muttered.
Aunt Antoinette threw up her hands. “Surely you can wait just a little longer! Why is tonight so special?”
That was something Katherine was not about to divulge. She’d worked hard to keep her feelings to herself when they’d told her—casually and as if it would be of little interest to her—that Jack had returned.
The fact he hadn’t seen her in three days was eating Katherine alive. Why had he not rushed, posthaste, to visit? Regardless of everything that had happened to each of them in the intervening seven years, they were bound to each other by more than just childhood friendship.
All Katherine could think about was Jack, and that she was free, and that, in all her seven years of hateful marriage, the only reason she’d never been tempted to stray from her husband was because…
Well, what was the point if she couldn’t have Jack?
So, dressed in drab mourning, no doubt completely washed out by the deadness of the colour which matched the way Katherine was used to feeling inside, she boldly attended Lady Garwood’s ball, alone, defying both her mother and aunt, and no doubt titillating society.
She didn’t care. What did anything matter these days?
But when she found herself completely abandoned amidst the gaiety, Katherine realised she’d made a grave miscalculation. Handsomely garbed guests nodded stiffly in recognition before passing on, condemnation clear in their thin smiles. She saw clusters laughing, eyes darting in her direction, but never received an offer of refreshment or enquiry as to how she fared.
This was not the place to come face to face with Jack. Widows did not attend society balls, especially when they needed to restore their reputations. It was just as her mother and aunt had warned her only now it was too late. Her impetuosity had again got the better of her. She tried to ward off the shudder of despair that would reveal her weakness and vulnerability. Would she never learn?
“Lady Marples, why, it really is you?”
She turned at the delight in the gentleman’s voice and recoiled inside to see Lord Derry smiling at her. Of course, she had to smile back. Furthermore, she could hardly refuse the offer of his crooked arm. No one else was making any effort to lessen her social embarrassment. No, clearly the rumours regarding her dealings with this man had found fertile ground. Her ostracism couldn’t be more apparent.
“This is a bold move on your part, Katherine.” His voice was unsettlingly close; the pressure of his fingers on her arm a more intimate gesture than made her comfortable. “Widowhood suits you as little as I suspected, Katherine, which, I suppose, explains why you’re here. I admire your bravery, and I hope you’ll let me reward you for it.”
Before Katherine could express her real feelings, either through a look, or to more thoroughly repulse him, she was startled by a greeting so warm and sincere it took her right back to the days when she was at the start of her journey into womanhood and so full of confidence she’d find happiness.
“Katherine?”
She swung round at the familiar tone, her heart beating wildly. “Jack?” She hoped her joy wasn’t too transparent. Or her astonishment when she took in his altered bearing. This was not the eager stripling who’d won her heart when they were both little more than children. This was a broad-shouldered, handsome young man dressed impeccably in evening clothes with an air of confidence that made him a striking presence.
Clearly, Lord Derry didn’t recognise Jack, though admittedly their paths might have crossed only once or twice. Nevertheless, there was a frisson suggesting rivalry that Katherine was very aware of as the introductions were made with great politeness.
“Lord Derry?” Katherine noticed the interest with which Jack repeated his lordship’s name, and immediately wished she could reassure him that any rumours he might have heard linking Katherine with the gentleman who was squiring her this evening were untrue. Could he have heard something? He’d only been in the country three days but news travelled.
Instead, she said, “I barely recognised you, Jack. I hope you had a good journey.”
His warm smile continued. It gave her hope, as did the fact he appeared to be alone. “Ah, Katherine, it was just one of so many journeys, but if it’s the last for a long while I shan’t be sorry. I’ve done what I set out to do, and I’ve returned, to th
e country of my birth, and where it’s my intention to remain for a long time.”
“You’ve been lucky to have found the success you have,” said Lord Derry, immediately feigning concern that he might have been misconstrued. “I meant that with the greatest respect, I assure you. But I had not known you knew Katherine.” There was a proprietorial tone to his remark, which sent anger snaking up her spine. How dare Lord Derry pretend he had any claim on her.
“We knew each other as children.” Before Katherine could elaborate, a graceful, russet-haired young woman resplendent in gold-and-green lace-edged flounces glided up to Jack and, in the most familiar manner, slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.
“I’m sorry I was delayed, dearest. You know what a terrible talker Mrs Glassop can be,” she murmured to him before presenting her brightest smile to the rest of them in anticipation of being introduced.
Katherine tried to keep her own in place, but as she was introduced to Miss Worthington who was displaying such supreme confidence in Jack’s affections, she thought she’d like to run her fingernails down her alabaster skin as she wailed her despair.
Not even when Freddy had admitted that money had been his greatest motivation in marrying her had the spear of devastation cut so lethally; certainly not when he’d taken the first of his many mistresses. And most definitely not when Freddy had died from the sudden fever. Katherine had thought his untimely death would release her, but immediately there was fresh scandal, and whereas she’d only been implicated by association with Freddy, now society’s opprobrium was directed at her, as if Katherine were as duplicitous and guilty of all the wrongdoing that had plagued Freddy’s scandal-ridden life.
“I had not known congratulations were in order, Jack,” Katherine murmured, trying to keep her voice steady. “When is the happy day?”
“Six weeks from now,” she was happily informed by the transparently joyous Miss Worthington. “Jack and I met when he was working for Papa in India. We were fortunate to enjoy some of the exoticism of the Far East, but I’m very content to be setting up house back in England. Aren’t you, dearest?”
She had to repeat her question, Katherine noticed, as Jack seemed quite focussed on looking at Katherine. She felt her cheeks warm and her heart race. He did love her. He did.
“And Lady Marples, my condolences on your loss, though I’m glad to hear you’ve found comfort with Lord Derry.”
Katherine tried not to gasp her indignation aloud. Was Miss Worthington sneering at her? She glanced from Jack to Lord Derry, who patted Katherine’s hand saying, “I was an admirer of Miss Fenton’s, as she was seven years ago before her marriage to Lord Marples, and I remain an admirer.” The warmth in his insinuating tone as he stroked her hand made her squirm with embarrassment. Carefully, she withdrew from any physical contact, but the assessing way Miss Worthington’s gaze followed the surreptitious gesture made her feel ill.
Jack, on the other hand, was smiling at her as if he saw only the Katherine of his youth.
“You must call on us, Katherine. My mother is in town and would, I know, be delighted to see you again, though you could hardly miss her. Though perhaps you’ve already seen her as she’s a regular visitor to Lord Quamby’s, and on just as friendly terms with your dear mama and aunt as she ever was.”
Katherine noticed that this was not well received by Miss Worthington, though why her pretty little mouth should turn down at such news suggested she saw Katherine as a threat. Good!
But the truth was, Katherine was far from the bright and eager young woman so full of hope that Jack had once admired. Katherine had fallen far in the eyes of society whereas Miss Worthington was, as her name suggested, entirely worthy of the attentions of a handsome, and now very wealthy young man such as Jack was.
Katherine nodded.
“And you have a child, I hear?” Jack asked. “Or perhaps more than one? News is so slow to arrive. I had not known of your bereavement before tonight.”
Double bereavement, Katherine thought, silently. She didn’t know how to respond and was saved from answering by Lord Derry squeezing her hand and saying, “Since you’ll have every opportunity to catch up on old news at a future date, might I claim this next dance, Katherine?”
Stricken, Katherine said, “I can’t possibly dance, Lord Derry. No, I must go home. Immediately.”
“Quite right, quite right, my dear. It’s so hard to remember you’re a widow, truly. In that case, let us go. Good evening, Miss Worthington. Mr Patmore.”
If she could have, Katherine would have picked up her skirts, dashed across the ballroom and jumped in the first hackney carriage to pass by, thereby publicly severing the impression that there was anything between Lord Derry and herself. But she’d scandalised the guests here tonight sufficiently by appearing in mourning and then being so much in Lord Derry’s company; as if she were snubbing her nose at the whole world, not least her husband’s memory.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw that Jack was looking after her, similarly twisting his neck, though Miss Worthington was chattering to him and clearly intended to have him all to herself.
And Katherine realised with sinking inevitability that she probably would.
Chapter 17
It was hard to be the mother of a daughter who was so unhappy which made it even more of a pleasure to greet an old friend.
Fanny rose as the parlourmaid announced Mrs Patmore. “Eliza, my dear, I can’t believe it’s been more than a year. But you’ve been in London four days without calling,” she added with mock severity. “Though I understand the reason all too well.” She drew Eliza to the sofa and pulled the rope to order refreshment as her friend took a seat opposite her. “Katherine tells me Jack has grown from a stripling into the most splendid young man. You must be so proud of his achievements. But my goodness you must have missed him. Seven years is a long time.”
Eliza, who rarely showed emotion, dabbed at her eyes with a fine lawn handkerchief and smiled through her tears. “I should be used to it. After all, it was almost seven years between being forced to give him up as an infant to the foundling home to recognising him when I visited Quamby House.”
The women shared a colluding look. What a happy circumstance it had been when Fanny and Antoinette’s matchmaking had pushed Eliza into the orbit of charming, honourable Rufus Patmore. At the time, she’d been intent on marrying the Brightwell sisters’ cousin, odious George Bramley, only because he lived at Quamby House where Jack was a regular visitor, a playmate of Young George’s.
“I’m sure you never thought it would be seven years before he’d return again as a young man. I can’t wait to see how he’s changed. Katherine said I’d recognise him as Jack, but that to see him was to see Jack as the best man he could ever have become, and that’s praise indeed, coming from her.” Fanny sighed. “Poor Katherine. Widowed at only twenty-four.”
Eliza reached over to pat Fanny’s hand. “It’s more than that though, isn’t it? You intimated as much in your letter. For the sake of our long friendship, I won’t pretend nothing is wrong when it is. You can confide in me, and if there’s anything I can do to help, I will.”
Fanny smiled at her kindness. While she and Antoinette were close, they did not always agree on the best course regarding Fanny’s headstrong daughter.
Eliza did not often come to town, so her distance from the gossiping ton was some comfort. She sighed. “Katherine seemed to have the world at her feet when she was launched. She had such a genuine desire for a true and lasting happiness that I was prepared to be indulgent when she made her choice.” She twisted the black-and-yellow cotton print of her simple gown between her fingers and went on, “I believe she could have made a wonderful match.” It wasn’t often Fanny allowed emotion to get the better of her, but she had difficulty going on, and it was Eliza who supplied, “Except that her head was turned by Lord Marples before she’d properly found her feet and might have made a wiser decision. Oh, my dear Fanny, I know only too well h
ow easily that can happen.”
Fanny nodded. “I know you do, Eliza. And you know that I, too, was in a situation very similar, only, I was the lucky one of the three of us. I set my cap at Fenton, and I threw caution to the wind and…success and happiness were my rewards rather than…repercussions and a life of disappointment. You also followed the impulses of your youthful heart, but while you were not as fortunate as I was in the first instance…” she said with a smile, referring to Eliza’s youthful indiscretion with Jack’s father, “Jack was your compensation, for despite the pain of being parted from him, you had the joy of winning him back through the love and goodness of admirable Rufus Patmore. I’m surprised Jack left you again for so long, knowing how much pain it would cause you in view of your first forced separation.”
Eliza sent Fanny a level look then lowered her head. “Jack knows nothing of that,” she murmured.
Fanny truly was shocked. “You’ve never told Jack you’re his natural mother?”
Eliza shook her head. “I never wanted him to learn of my shame. That I was an unwed mother, a disgrace, and he was born out of wedlock. Even to be the child of poor farmers would be better than that.”
“So, Jack still believes he’s just the foundling boy taken in by the kindly Patmores for no other reason than charity?”
“Fanny, please don’t put it that way!” Eliza cried. “I can’t tell you the agony I’ve gone through over this. Rufus said it must be my decision as to whether Jack was told the truth. There’ve been a few occasions over the years that I’ve nearly told him but…” She took a deep breath. “Jack has always been such an upstanding, honourable young man; such a stickler for observing the highest of morals. I was terrified I would forever be tarnished in his eyes for…giving birth to a bastard.” She’d dropped her voice so it was hard for Fanny to hear. “I don’t know if it contributed to him going away. The fact that he believed, and still believes, that he’s not our natural son. He said he was determined that he would make his way in the world on his own merits, with no financial backing from Rufus.”
The Accidental Elopement (Scandalous Miss Brightwells Book 4) Page 12
