The Accidental Elopement (Scandalous Miss Brightwells Book 4)

by Beverley Oakley

  Katherine sent Jack a stricken look as she raised her eyes. Her mother was treating them like children. Furthermore, she was adopting that tone that suggested she not only had a plan but matters well in hand and was confident of a happy outcome.

  The only positive aspect of all this was that it was clear Lady Fenton sanctioned Jack over Lord Derry, but she’d clearly not factored in the strength of Jack’s attachment to Odette.

  Still, a little kernel of hope lodged in Katherine’s heart as she saw the betraying flicker of longing in Jack’s eye. He did want to go to the almond tree with her. He did want to be alone with her. Had his time in the carriage with Diana given him a different perspective on how their futures might be?

  A twist of pain, longing and fear burrowed into her and nervously she smoothed her hands over her skirts. Had he realised whose child Diana really was? Would it be enough to make him relinquish his ties to Odette? Katherine couldn’t tell him. It would be coercion, but if he deduced it himself…

  By the time Katherine had risen and was at the door beside Jack, a myriad of possibilities had flowered in her breast. Maybe her mother was right in not simply accepting as Katherine had done—that Jack was irrevocably pledged to Odette.

  She barely knew what to say as they walked silently, side by side, towards the almond tree by the lake.

  It was only natural they stop and turn to face one another when they were beneath its laden branches.

  Without hesitating, Jack put his hands on Katherine’s forearms and looked her in the eye. In the distance, the clouds had amassed, grey and darkening, while a gentle breeze stirred her hair and brushed her cheek; just as she wished Jack would do in that wonderful, familiar way of his when he was talking to her.

  In the moment before he opened his mouth to speak, she tried to read what was in his heart. It was a better gauge than what he might say to her, she feared, and yet she could still hope. It was all she had left.

  “Katherine.” Her name hung in the air. He cleared his throat as if what he had to say were momentous but he had no idea how to go on.

  She stared at him. Waiting. Say it, Jack. Tell me you love me for that’s the truth. Tell me whatever else you have to say for Odette’s sake, but at least say what’s in your heart, she silently willed him.

  At last he spoke. “A year ago, I acknowledged to my employer at the time, Charles Worthington, that I owed him a great debt. My success, my reputation as a man of business, was all due to him.”

  So this was how it would be. There would be no words of affection to soften the blow. No words of affection that might blossom into a mutual recognition of what they might share together. The hope that had bloomed so suddenly just minutes earlier was just as quickly cut off at the root. Katherine dropped her eyes. What was the point in hearing him out? He was letting her down, as gently as he could.

  “And that is when you pledged your loyalties: to him and to Odette?” she interrupted, softly. “There is no need to go on, Jack. Please don’t try to save my feelings or my dignity.”

  She was more wounded than she’d have allowed.

  He looked into her eyes and she saw pain and conflict in their depths. “Katherine, if circumstances had allowed it—if Odette’s father weren’t dying and I hadn’t made a promise—I would sacrifice my life to be with you.” His words hitched. “But if I ignore those realities, I’d be sacrificing much more: my honour, my pride, my dignity. And without those, I am nothing. Whatever was left would be worthless to you. Please understand.”

  “Am I so transparent, Jack?”

  “That your heart belongs to me?” He gripped her arms tighter. His voice rose and for the first time she saw cracks in his self control as he struggled to push out the words. A whisper of wind stirred the branches dislodging a flurry of droplets. “At first I could hardly hope to believe it might be true. When I kissed you last, Katherine, it was an accident…a fatal accident. I tried to remind myself of my duty to Odette, but I could think only of you.”

  “I felt the same, Jack. I…” She wanted to tell him so much more of what she felt. To unburden her heart would have been cathartic, but he seemed reluctant to hear it for he put his finger to her lips as he pressed his own together.

  “Katherine. Sweetheart, it’s impossible. You know that.”

  She stared. She knew it. She should have known it, but it was a torment to hear him put into words.

  “I shan’t marry Derry,” she whispered.

  A spasm of pain crossed his face. He shook his head. “You owe Derry an obligation that he’s calling upon you to fulfil. I suspected as much from what Diana said.”

  Katherine nodded. “But I shan’t marry him, Jack. I don’t care about my reputation.”

  There, maybe if she told him how much she was prepared to sacrifice he’d be prepared to do the same.

  “Katherine! Don’t do this to me, I beg of you,” he muttered, a shuttered look coming into his eyes as he stared over her shoulder before returning his gaze to her face. “Your reputation will suffer, and you will be ostracised, but it will be bearable if the alternative is to wed a man you do not love. My punishment will be at the cost of my soul. Do you not see?” He shook her gently even as he pulled her slightly closer. “I cannot abandon Odette. I simply cannot and still call myself a gentleman. A man of honour. Even though you are as dear to me as anyone I have ever known, even though I need you like the air I need to breathe, I cannot wed you at the cost of Odette’s happiness.”

  “What about my happiness?” she whispered through tears. She’d thought she’d be stronger than this when the moment came but the devastation of learning how baseless was the hope that had sustained her was almost more than she could bear.

  “I’d bring you no happiness, Katherine. Not if I despised myself. And I would. You know I would.”

  She did. It’s which stopped her from revealing everything. What use would it be to heap further torment upon him when he was tormented enough already? She knew he loved her. She could feel it through the pressure of his hands; through the intensity of his look.

  It began to rain. The gentle shower caused a steady drip through the branches, but they could not break away.

  “I will release you, Jack,” she whispered brokenly. “I’ll do it quietly, and I’ll accept it.” She drew in a painful breath. “On one condition.”

  He tilted his head. Afraid? Hopeful?

  “That you kiss me.”

  He’d sacrificed so much, but he could not sacrifice this—not his last opportunity to hold the girl he loved in his arms and expedite her last request; the only demand she’d ever placed on him. Katherine was pure and good and did not deserve the pain he promised her if he came to her as half the man he could have been. Should have been.

  For Odette, he could be enough. He could live with that in order to draw the delicate balance between living with his desires and succumbing to his demons.

  It was to be a gentle kiss upon the lips, immediately withdrawn before he’d make his excuses and leave. Honour could be served if he managed that and only that.

  But the sweet, gentle pressure communicated too great a memory. The touch of Katherine’s lips sent fingers of need and memory silently, invisibly, searching deep within the hidden depths he’d revealed to no one but her. Grasping, searching, drawing out of his very soul all that he’d locked away for so long: his need for connection; a connection only Katherine had ever satisfied.

  His arms tightened about her shoulders as he drew her well-remembered curves against his chest. Her lips parted beneath his, soft and yielding while her hands strayed to his face, touching his cheeks in a tender display of affection that brought the memories of their stolen moments all those years ago crashing over him. He’d been embarking on adventures bigger than their love. So he’d thought. He’d needed to prove himself, both to himself and to the world—and he’d done that.

  But at what cost?

  Losing Katherine?

  With a groan, he dragged his m
outh from hers and stared into her luminous face.

  “I’ve always loved you, Jack.”

  She hadn’t said it to make him stay. Or to make his decision harder, he knew that.

  Katherine spoke the simple truth.

  “And I love you, Katherine.” He dragged in a breath. “But I can never have you.”

  The rain had increased in intensity, and a soft rumble of thunder made them raise their heads and stare at the hills over which grey storm clouds were rolling.

  “It reminds me of the West Indies,” he said , taking her hand and squeezing it gently before he released it. “I thought of you whenever a storm rolled in. You’d have loved it.”

  “I’d have gone with you if you’d asked me.”

  He smiled and brushed back a strand of wet hair from her cheek. Though light, the rain was dense. “It was not a life for a young girl. I told myself that often enough when I wished I had asked you. Come.” He started to walk, turning and holding out his hand to her, but not to make contact. He couldn’t afford to do that.

  It was safer if they talked as they made their return to the house. With no physical contact. He’d need to be on the road shortly if he were to make it to Patmore Farm before nightfall. “Besides, you were testing the competition with some enthusiasm, if I recall.” Levity might make their conversation more bearable.

  “Freddy?”

  He slid a glance across towards her darkened expression. “I’m sorry, Katherine. Sorry it was not the marriage for which you’d hoped.”

  “It was a marriage I’d never intended,” she muttered. “But there it is, Jack. We cannot change the past, can we?”

  “I would to God we could.” Jack stopped in the middle of the lawn, suddenly overcome with the need to communicate his longing when before he’d been intent more on communicating the reasons why their love could never be. “Or the timing, Katherine. I said if you ever needed me, you had only to call on me, and now that you do need me, I cannot give you what you want.”

  “I only want it if you want it too, Jack. If you want it enough, that is.” She turned her head away and continued walking b his side, saying just so he could hear, “But…pay me no heed. I’ve become churlish when your parting kiss should have been everything I needed to sustain me.” She stopped as they reached the gravel drive that skirted the house and turned abruptly, her tears mingling with the raindrops. “I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean to make this harder than it is already. You are a good man. An honourable man. That’s why I love you, I suppose. But I understand what you’ve told me. And I understand that now it’s time to say goodbye.”

  Chapter 26

  Back at the Northcote Arms, Antoinette and Bertram were becoming increasingly frustrated by the lack of progress in expediting their plan. They’d not told Jack they planned to detour via the Northcome Arms en route to Patmore Farm. That would have smacked of collusion though surely the young man understood the lengths to which they’d go in order to reunite the childhood sweethearts.

  “They’ve barely spoken a word to one another, Bertram,” Antoinette hissed as she went to the window in order to examine the approaching bad weather, calling her brother to her side, supposedly to get his opinion.

  The siblings glanced over their shoulder at Miss Worthington and Lord Derry, who both appeared to be gazing into space, while they sipped tea. Mrs Monks had returned to her bedchamber.

  Bertram scrunched up his face as he contemplated the matter. “Leave it to me,” he said after a pause.

  “Oh dear, that’s what you said last time.” Antoinette bit her lip. “And poor Aunt Brightwell ended up in a hot-air balloon with dreadful George Bramley trying to make love to her thinking it was Thea.”

  “Ah, but you missed the point, Antoinette.” Bertram scratched his nose and darted another glance at the unresponsive Miss Worthington and Lord Derry. “That was a necessary if unfortunate precursor to Thea and Grayling pledging their troth. It was all part of the grand scheme of things, for you know as well as I that matters must become very dire before all is happily resolved.”

  “Well, since the weather is hardly conducive to sending anyone up in a hot-air balloon, what do you suggest?” Antoinette felt increasingly dejected as time ticked by. At this rate, Jack would be back to fetch his intended, and Katherine would forever be denied the love she deserved. If she had to admit what was truly in her heart, Antoinette did feel somewhat culpable for what had happened all those years before. But how could she have known Katherine and Jack were so utterly in love when Katherine had kept it such a secret?

  She put her hand to her head, toying with the floral trimming as she sought for inspiration. And, suddenly, it came to her. “We’ll push her down the stairs!”

  “Miss Worthington? Good God, Antoinette, even I would not countenance something so extreme!”

  “I don’t mean murder her, for God’s sake, Bertram. What do you take me for?” Antoinette shook her head. “I mean so she sustains a little injury and Lord Derry has to look after her, after which he’ll become inevitably attached. It happened very successfully in a book I’ve been reading. In Pride and Prejudice, the dreadful matchmaking mama sends her daughter Jane off on horseback when she knew it was going to rain, and sure enough, the girl got soaked and caught a chill so spent a week as a guest of her hero during which time he fell in love with her. Just as her mama had hoped would happen.”

  An approving look crept into Bertram’s eye and he nodded. “So, who shall do it? You or I?”

  A bit of throat clearing from the other side of the room was followed by: “Weather’s not looking so good. I’d best be on my way now that my horse has been fed and rested.”

  Antoinette swung round to face Derry who was rising from a bow in Odette’s direction.

  Bertram made a strange noise before he hurried forwards, running his fingers around the inside of his collar. “Did you not hear, old chap? The message wasn’t passed on?”

  “What’s this?” Derry frowned as he straightened.

  “Your horse. Poor creature’s lame. I was sure the message had come straight to you that the ostler was trying to rustle up a replacement.”

  “Odin’s lame?” Derry repeated, a touch of urgency straining his voice as he strode towards the door.

  Bertram waylaid him, almost barrelling into him as he rushed to put his hand on the door knob first. “Very minor, but he can’t turn about in this weather and churned-up mud, can he, now?” He sent Derry a meaningful look. “You just see to Miss Worthington and I’ll bring back a report. I was off to the stables myself, in fact, as we need to ensure we’re set to continue our journey with no delays. Antoinette!”

  She sprang to attention, relieved that Bertram had come up with this interim plan. It was obviously up to her now to smooth the way. “Odette, I see you’ve finished your tea. Perhaps we should continue onwards to Patmore Farm.” A sudden thought assailed her. “Lord Derry, your estate is very close, is it not? And the rain is not so very bad. I’m sure Miss Worthington would love nothing more than to view Derry House. After all, her in-laws will be your neighbours within an hour’s carriage ride.”

  Lord Derry hesitated and scratched his head, thinking. There was a slightly harried look about him, as if the condition of his horse had blinded him to the immediate social niceties required. Still, he managed to turn to Miss Worthington and say with commendable charm, “Would you indeed like to pay a call to Derry House along the way, Miss Worthington? It would be but a ten-minute detour.”

  “What a splendid idea!” Antoinette clapped her hands together. “Odin may well only need just a little more rest, but of course you can procure a mount from your own stables and then choose to return to London in the morning. Lord Derry, you will, of course, come with us in our carriage. I’ll see that Mrs Monks is informed.”

  The plan was considered an excellent one to suit the circumstances, and within the hour, the party was drawing up in front of the portico of Derry House.

  As the d
ouble doors were thrown open by the stately butler, Antoinette slid Odette a surreptitious look and was rewarded by the awe on her face. Derry House was indeed colossal, and although the girl was to inherit a fortune when her papa died, the family’s money came from trade. A landed estate would be her dream, Antoinette imagined. And her father’s dream, too.

  “Such a sweet place you have, Derry,” Antoinette said as her host helped her out of the carriage, then reached in an arm to draw Odette out into the increasingly heavy rain, holding up an umbrella to shield her from the weather.

  They hurried up the stairs and into the lofty hallway where the ladies were relieved of their mantles and the men of their coats and hats.

  “Do tell Odette the history of your home, Derry,” Antoinette pressed him as they were shown into the drawing room where a crackling fire was a welcome contrast to the deteriorating weather. “The original part is more than three hundred years old, is that not so?”

  With obvious pride, Lord Derry expanded on the role his family had played during the Civil War, losing their home in the middle of the seventeenth century when the Roundheads were victorious, but having it returned and being awarded additional lands when a new king was returned to the throne some ten years later.

  “But of course, Odette, you also will be mistress of a fine home which Jack has purchased with the fortune he has made,” said Antoinette as they were served Madeira once they’d settled themselves. “He has made his money just like your father, and although there are those who spurn trade, you have a great deal to thank him for, namely his business acumen.” She took a sip and smiled at Derry, adding, “Everything simply landed in your lap, eh, Derry? And now you’re looking for a wife, and if my hunch is correct, my niece will become mistress of all this.” She waved an expansive arm about her, conscious of the scandalised look Odette sent her, and the rather startled expression on Lord Derry’s face. Still, he didn’t seem to take offence, and in fact appeared relieved when Antoinette suggested he take Odette on a tour of the lofty building.