Heartless Lord Harry

by Marjorie Farrell

By the week of the wedding Kate’s mood had deteriorated even more. Her family could not seem to understand that, small or not, a wedding to which a bishop had been invited needed to be carefully planned. Much as she loved her sister and rejoiced in her happiness, there were times when she wanted to shake her. Kate’s queries about last-minute details were dismissed by a gentle wave of the hand and the observation that she would have been happy to run away with James in only her shift.

  When James and Harry arrived, they were shown to their rooms by a very tired and disgruntled Kate. Even the sight of the marquess’s handsome face did nothing to alleviate her mood.

  Harry, however, was delighted to be back with the Richmonds. The door had been opened by Lynette, as it had the first time, with Kate not far behind. This time, Miss Richmond’s beauty had no effect on him. He had grown accustomed to it. All he could think was: Let James have his angel. I want my Kate. For when an obviously distracted Kate joined her sister in greeting them, Harry looked at her and could only wonder where he had been that first time. Had he been so restless, so driven, that he had been blind to the just-rightness of Kate Richmond with her springy brown curls and honest gray eyes?

  Unfortunately she had excused herself as soon as she had got them settled, and Harry quickly guessed that the full burden of the wedding had fallen on her capable shoulders. He felt immediately protective and wanted nothing more than to enfold her in his arms. He had never before felt such a rush of compassion for a woman. Desire, yes. Admiration. But never the impulse to give anything beyond his name and his airy charm. He realized that he wanted to give himself to Kate Richmond, a gift he had never before been capable of offering.

  But despite his attempts to help over the next two days, he could not get her to take him seriously. The Otleys had arrived and must be settled. Gareth and Arden were late. Was it possible they had had a carriage accident? The flowers that the squire had promised from his greenhouse had not arrived either and when would she ever have time to decorate the church?

  The marquess suggested, Aunt Kate urged, and Janie bullied, but Kate would not stop for a second. No, she did not need a walk, she was getting enough exercise, thank you. She was not tired, and even if she was, she would have plenty of time to sleep after the wedding.

  It was not just what needed doing that kept her going. The truth was, she wanted no time to pay attention to the pain in her heart. Once James arrived, and she again saw all the small gestures of affection between him and her sister, she wanted only to lose herself in the preparations for the occasion and forget what the occasion was. For the moment she saw the marquess at the door, she knew. At some point, she knew not exactly when, she had given her heart to him. And as far as she could see, he didn’t want it. Oh, he politely offered to help her out, but any gentleman would have. And so she did her best to exhaust herself and succeed quite well, falling into bed each night and waking early from a sleep blessedly without dreams.

  * * * *

  The wedding day was clear and sunny. In her pale-blue silk, Lynette was a breathtaking bride. Even the Otleys had to admire James’s choice.

  “You would never guess she is a bluestocking,” Lady Clitheroe whispered to the bishop.

  Janie had outdone herself on the wedding breakfast. And after several toasts had been made to the bride and groom, Gareth tapped the side of his glass, and smiling broadly, said he wished to make an announcement.

  “It has become obvious that our trip to Cornwall was more than successful,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Here we have a most handsome and happy couple, whose first kiss came about because of the wee ‘oss. And Arden and I…well, we should be parents by February.”

  Lady Elizabeth embraced her daughter-in-law, and Lynette stole a glance at James and blushed. She hoped they would very soon be making the same announcement.

  Kate’s throat tightened as she added her congratulations. The family had begun to wonder about an heir, though two years was not really a very long time to wait.

  Aunt Kate, who was sitting next to her, slipped an arm around her niece’s waist and whispered, “And what of you, my dear? As someone told me at Padstow, according to the tradition, you will be married by Christmas.”

  “Oh, I hardly think that is likely, Aunt Kate.”

  “Don’t be too sure, my dear. Don’t be too sure.”

  * * *

  Chapter 44

  Kate awoke early the next morning. Although the wedding was over and James and Lynette started on their trip to his estate in Yorkshire for the beginning of their life together, she couldn’t sleep in. Her tiredness was the nervous sort which kept one up late and awake early. After quietly getting dressed and going down to the kitchen for a quick cup of tea, she slipped out the door, hoping that a long tramp up the fell would relax her.

  It was another clear, sunny day, but cool. Kate had knotted an old shawl around her shoulders, but wished she had worn her cloak. Soon, however, she was warmed up from her exertion, and as the sun got higher, she slipped the shawl off and tied it around her waist.

  She passed Gabriel on the way up and waved, but did not stop. She smiled to herself at the memory of the old shepherd dressed in his best for the wedding and inviting Lady Otley to dance. She thought James’s mother might have palpitations, but she redeemed herself, since Otleys were always polite and never knowingly offended the lower class. She kindly declined Mr. Crabtree’s invitation by telling him she had an arthritic hip.

  “Na then, lass, tha can’t be much older than me. Coom on, I’ll go easy on ye.”

  Harry had been standing behind Lady Otley and caught Kate’s eye just as she was successfully choking down her laughter at the expression on Lady Otley’s face. “Lass!”

  “Can’t be much older than me!” He grinned at her and she had to excuse herself immediately. She hurried over to where her brother and Arden were chatting with the vicar, and helpless with laughter, tried to explain what had set her off.

  Now why did she have to think of Sidmouth just now. They had shared a moment of amusement, and she had felt closer to him then than at any other time in their acquaintance. Damn the man. It was easier to ignore charm and handsomeness than it was a shared sense of the ridiculous.

  When she reached the top, she sat down and leaned her back against one of the rocky outcroppings. A curlew called above her, a hawk floated lazily past and the sun warmed her face. Before she knew it, she was asleep.

  * * * *

  Harry was down early, too, thinking he would be alone at the breakfast table, only to find Gareth there before him.

  “I hope Lady Thorne is not too tired from yesterday.”

  “She is fine,” replied Gareth. “But I have heard that women who are breeding have a greater need for sleep in the early months.”

  Janie had been given the morning off, so Harry helped himself to a simple breakfast of toast, tea, and cheese.

  “I am sorry we don’t have more to offer you,” apologized Gareth.

  “After yesterday’s feast, this is more than enough,” replied Harry with a smile.

  A little later the rest of the family joined them, and all chatted easily about the wedding. Harry kept glancing up toward the door, expecting Kate to come down any minute, but the only one who came through was the cat, who stalked over to Lady Elizabeth and jumped on her lap.

  “I am sure I don’t understand why you allow that animal such freedom,” said Aunt Kate.

  “ ‘Allow’ is hardly the appropriate word,” answered her sister-in-law with a smile. “Mott does what he wishes. Always has, haven’t you, old cat?” Mott stretched out as his mistress scratched behind his ears.

  “Where do you think Kate is, my dear?” Mr. Richmond asked.

  “Enjoying a well-deserved rest, I hope,” said Gareth.

  “She worked hard enough for two people from what Arden and I could see.”

  When a half hour went by and still no Kate, Lady Elizabeth went up herself to her daughter’s door.

 
; “She is not asleep at all,” she announced when she returned to the breakfast room. “I suspect she was up before any of us and is out on the fell.”

  “That is just what I was thinking of doing,” remarked Harry, with studied casualness. “I need to walk off the effects of that wonderful feast. I’ll keep an eye out for Miss Richmond, shall I?” And he excused himself from the table a few minutes later, eager to be off.

  “You are sitting there grinning like Mott when he has caught a mouse and dropped it at Mother’s feet, Aunt Kate,” said Gareth after Harry had taken his leave. “Will you let us in on whatever has so amused you?”

  “Later, my dear. Later.”

  * * * *

  It was good to be outdoors and he did need to work off yesterday’s celebration, thought Harry as he climbed. When he came to Gabriel’s hut, he decided to see if Kate had perhaps stopped for a visit.

  “Good day to tha, lad,” said the old shepherd.

  “Good morning, Gabriel. I see you are no worse for wear this morning.”

  “I have a good head for t’drink, lad. Although t’cake Janie made was more like to do me in. I am not used to such food.”

  “Have you seen Miss Richmond this morning?”

  “Oh, aye, t’lass passed by here at least an hour ago.”

  “Was she headed straight up the fell?”

  “Aye, lad. Straight up to the top, I wager.”

  “Thank you, Gabriel. Her family was a little worried about her being tired from yesterday and I thought I’d make sure she is all right,” explained Harry.

  “T’lass will be fine. No danger of snowstorms today!” replied the old shepherd with his raspy laugh.

  “Umm, no, it didn’t look like bad weather was coming. I just thought she shouldn’t be out too long on her own.”

  Gabriel dug his elbow into Harry’s side. “I think I know what tha’rt thinking, lad. But just tha remember: Benjamin and I are here if Miss Kate needs us. Tha better be courting in earnest or it will be my staff in tha belly.”

  Harry blushed for one of the few times in his adult life. “I have the greatest respect for Miss Richmond, Mr. Crabtree. As for courting, well, she has given me no sign that she would welcome it.”

  “What sign does tha need, lad? I could feel what was between tha yesterday, and see the way tha was looking at each at t’other. Tha’rt a little too handsome for my liking, but Miss Kate needs someone of her own, and tha’ll do.”

  “Thank, you, Gabriel, I think,” Harry replied dryly, and continued his climb.

  He saw her right away, sound asleep against the rock. She looked so relaxed and so comfortable that he did not have the heart to wake her immediately, even though he knew she would get stiff and sore from lying on the damp ground. And so he sat himself down next to her, and like Kate, gave in to the sun and fell asleep.

  * * *

  Chapter 45

  Kate had been dreaming. In her dream she was back on the bench in the garden and Harry had drawn her head down on his shoulder. His shoulder felt so solid that she allowed herself to let go of all her worries about the accounts, the housekeeping, worries she always carried with her, and enjoyed the sensation of being taken care of. The dream was so vivid that not only could she feel the texture of his coat, but also smell his cologne. The hardness of the rock against her back woke her, however, and she was prepared for the sense of longing that follows that sort of dream when she became conscious that her head was indeed on Lord Sidmouth’s shoulder. She had turned a little in her sleep and there he was.

  She lifted herself very carefully and looked at him. She wanted to grab his arm and pillow her head against it again, and it was very hard to resist the temptation, because how often did one’s dreams become reality?

  But what on earth was he doing next to her? And should she leave him or wake him? Remembering what had happened the last time, she was inclined to get up and leave quietly. But it was too hard to pull herself away.

  His sleep couldn’t have been that deep, because as if he felt her gaze on him, he opened his eyes and looked straight into hers. Without hesitating an instant, he turned and pulled her toward him and kissed her. As his kiss went from tentative to urgent and she responded, he abruptly let her go and pulled himself away.

  Kate thought she would die from the disappointment. And then she looked at his face.

  “Please, Lord Sidmouth, what is it?”

  “I should not have done that.”

  “You may be right, but I am glad you did,” replied Kate shamelessly.

  He did not seem to hear her, because he was somewhere else. Kate remembered what he had said to her aunt and tried to think of something that would draw him back.

  “You seemed to be enjoying the kiss, my lord,” she said, pulling at his sleeve to gain his attention. “Then, all of a sudden, you seemed to go somewhere else. I hardly think one kiss, however enjoyable, would be that threatening. I will not cry compromise, I promise,” she added, trying to tease him out of his distraction.

  He really looked at her then.

  “What are you seeing, Lord Sidmouth? Is it a memory from the war? Perhaps it is time you told someone about it.”

  “What I see in those moments I am thrown back to Badajoz is not something any young lady should know about.”

  “But it is all right for you to bear it alone? You are strong enough then to keep it to yourself? I think not, Lord Sidmouth. We are not very apart in age, you know. Had I been a man I would have seen what you did. Are we so different that you should have some sort of strength that I don’t? I have often thought that we expect men to survive horrors as if they were not truly human. I have read enough to know that Badajoz was a slaughterhouse,” she continued softly. “It must have been terrible to see your friends cut down.”

  “It was, Miss Richmond. We crawled over mines and spikes. The men were using dead and wounded bodies to make a bridge. They were even pushing their comrades onto swords, just to make it over the barricade. You cannot imagine the sight and the smells…” Harry shuddered as he remembered the combined smell of burning flesh and blood. “But it is not those memories, my dear Kate,” he said ironically.

  “Was it being wounded? You must have thought yourself near death.”

  Harry got up and turned his back to Kate. Looking off over the scree, he began to speak slowly, as if every word were an effort: “I was not wounded at Badajoz, Miss Richmond.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Oh, I was, if you are speaking geographically. But not during the siege. I survived the carnage without a scratch. I made it over the bodies of the dead and dying into the city. And, I must confess, I felt no worse about it than any other battle,” he added ironically.

  “Then how were you wounded?”

  “I doubt that the public thinks much about the behavior of men after a battle, Miss Richmond. There is something about being caught up in both fear and bloodlust at the same time that gets to men. In fact, there seems to be something about killing that is akin to…desire. Our men had been through hell and yet only seemed to want to create more… To be brief, I came upon two men raping two women, two nuns. One, I would guess was over sixty. The other, a novice, by her veil, looked about sixteen. The older one was already dead, you see, Miss Richmond. But the men were still hard at work, as it were,” said Harry, not seeing the green grass in front of him, but the blood-soaked white veil that had been ripped off a young girl’s head, revealing short-cropped black hair—and the habit drawn up over her knees, and the grunting of the men, like the pigs they were, as they thrust another sort of weapon into her again and again.

  Harry had recounted his story in a dull monotone, and at first Kate could not take it in. It was too horrible and a part of her went numb as she heard it.

  “I ordered them to stop, and they only laughed at me and said ‘All’s fair in love and war.’ When I tried to pull them off, one stuck his bayonet in me. The other one shot me. But I was lucky, for some of my company
were behind me, and they killed the two and carried me off to the surgeons.”

  Kate was still unable to apprehend it. Lord Sidmouth—it could have been Gareth—had seen something so far beyond her experience that she couldn’t find any words of comfort. She wanted to go over and put her arms around him, but was afraid of what he might think.

  “So you see, Miss Richmond, I have seen what men can become. When I came home, I tried to forget, to drive the memories out by mindless pursuit of women with whom I knew I would never experience real desire. You were right about me, my dear Kate,” he added quietly.

  Kate had tears in her eyes at last. She may not have been there, but she could feel his pain right here, in the present.

  “Lord Sidmouth…” she said hesitantly.

  Harry turned and looked at her. “I saw King Lear this spring,” he said, as though commenting upon the weather. “I knew how the old man felt, his world empty of any meaning, everything and everyone tainted. How can one believe in love in such a world.”

  Kate knew that nothing she could say would change things. She would have to take the risk herself, and show him his own heart again, hoping she was right about the passion she had felt in his kiss. She stood up and walked over to him. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she said, “Please kiss me again, Harry.”

  He only looked at her bleakly, and so she reached up and ran her thumb down the side of his cheek and over his lips. He took a ragged breath, and she felt a delightful hunger rising from deep inside her. She lifted her face and at the same time grasped his hands and pulled him down on his knees in front of her. His arms tightened around her convulsively, and she felt him begin to sob.

  “Oh, my dearest,” she said, and held his dark head to her breast, enfolding him in her arms and letting him cry out in the privacy of her embrace.

  After a few minutes the shuddering stopped, and he lifted his head. She gave him no time to think, and kissed him with infinite tenderness, wishing with all her heart she could wipe out the last two years with her love, or at least transform them. This time he responded. He kissed her tentatively at first, and then more and more recklessly. Within a few moments they were stretched out on the grass, and she was surprised and even a little frightened by her reaction. She wanted him to open her dress and lower the top and caress her breasts, and he did, as though he had read her mind. She wanted him to take her hand and lead it down to where she could feel the evidence of his desire, and he did. His tongue caressed one of her breasts, circling the nipple lazily, and Kate felt a melting between her legs. As he reached up under her skirt, she whispered, “Wait,” and pulled off her underthings and let him push back her skirt. He groaned with pleasure as he buried his face in her belly, and moved lower.