Kate: A Universal Truth (A Wish for Love Series Book 1)

by Shales, Mia

  Kate and Emma crossed the street and entered the restaurant. The head waiter cast a critical eye at Kate but softened at the sight of Emma's elegant figure and led them to a corner table by a window at the front of the restaurant. Emma excused herself and went to freshen up. Kate removed her hat and her lovely hair tumbled unconfined about her shoulders. She hung up her coat and leaned back with a contented sigh on the comfortable chair and studied the deluge outside when she heard John Bayhem's voice behind her. To Kate's surprise he was speaking about her and she, with no compunction and with a clear conscience, eavesdropped on the conversation behind the partition separating their tables.

  “You must admit, Matthew, her sister is also very beautiful.”

  “Spare me, John. The only beautiful woman I noticed was your Emma. Dr. Evans, with all due respect, strikes me as no more than tolerable, although I admit it was hard to distinguish much of her in those shapeless clothes and that ridiculous hat. I can't see myself being even remotely attracted to her.”

  Kate clapped her hand over her mouth in an attempt not to betray her presence. What nerve! She restrained herself from answering him with a few choice words of her own. His low opinion of her looks and her style didn't bother her in the least, and if he was to be her host for a whole weekend there was no point in going head to head with him now. To her relief she heard the waiter give them their bill. They rose to leave at just the moment that Emma returned and almost bumped into them.

  “John, Matthew, how nice to see you so soon again. Won't you join us for lunch?” she asked in her pleasant voice.

  Kate was sure Bayhem was on the verge of accepting and the thought of him forcing another meal down his throat for the sole purpose of spending time in Emma's company almost made her chuckle. But whatever his intentions, he changed his mind when Matthew Camedon answered, in a tone that, much to Kate's surprise, could almost be termed civil.

  “Unfortunately we can't accept your invitation. We just finished lunch and we have several important business matters to take care of this afternoon.”

  John Bayhem gazed regretfully at Emma but nodded affirmatively as his friend spoke. Emma looked at Kate and only then did the two men pay attention to her presence. John addressed her warmly. “Excuse us, Kate. We didn't notice you were sitting here. At any rate, I'm glad to meet you again and I’m eagerly anticipating your visit to Bellewoodplain.”

  Kate returned his smile and the repressed gleam of interest in Matthew Camedon' eyes as he turned his head in her direction afforded her no small degree of feminine satisfaction. Perhaps she couldn't compare to the glamorous beauties he was used to escorting but no one could deny there was something special about her.

  She had flawless skin and a short, straight nose. Her almond shaped eyes fringed by long dark lashes were walnut hued and when she smiled her red lips, chiseled to perfection, revealed two rows of even white teeth. She was taller than average at five foot nine and her body was slim and shapely. Her brown hair, thick and smooth as pure silk, fell to the middle of her back.

  She smiled sweetly at Matthew Camedon who was still silently observing her. He finally glanced aside and parted from the two women with an indifferent farewell. Kate and Emma studied their menus. Kate lifted her head and looked out the window, drawing her sister's attention to the two men who crossed the street and got into a metallic blue jaguar. John Bayhem slid behind the wheel and Emma lifted her eyebrow at her sister as the car moved down the street.

  “Do you like him?” Kate asked Emma.

  “Who?”

  “John, of course! I can't imagine anyone taking a fancy to Matthew Camedon, but John seems nice - and very good looking,” she teased.

  “Yes, I like him,” Emma answered calmly. She showed no inclination to pursue the subject and Kate didn't press her. They chattered idly on other matters.

  “What do you intend to wear this evening, Kate?”

  “I haven't decided. I'll wear something subdued to the graduation and then change into a more glamorous evening dress for the party. What will you wear?"

  As Kate had no escort she had suggested Emma join her for the exercises and later at the party and Emma eagerly agreed.

  “I haven't given it much thought yet. When we get back to the flat we'll help each other choose the right clothes.”

  Chapter Two

  Several hours later they stood irresolutely in front of the closet. Kate knew most of the participants at the commencement would be dressed in conservative suits but she couldn't bear the thought of wearing either one of the two in her possession. Both staff and students had become accustomed to the rather unusual attire of the lecturer who often looked as though she had drifted on to the campus from another century. She never looked ridiculous but she allowed herself the liberty of wearing clothes that reflected her poetic soul - long velvet skirts in the winter, blouses with puffed sleeves, airy flowered dresses in the summer.

  She sighed and looked despairingly at Emma. Finally making up her mind, she chose a wine red skirt that fell to her ankles in soft folds and a long sleeved cream colored blouse of silk, satin and lace with a frilly collar. She gathered her hair with a ribbon and added a pair of pearl earrings. The earrings were a legacy from Kate's mother who had died of a rare blood disease when Kate was twenty-one.

  Taking a last look in the mirror she was pleased with her reflection. The effect was dignified and conservative, although more feminine and graceful than if she had she worn a suit. Emma looked beautiful in a blue dress. Her hair was brushed high on her head and her sweet features were highlighted by pink lipstick. They took their raincoats and started on their way.

  The weather was cool but the rain stopped and they decided to walk the streets separating their flat from the college. They agreed that later they would forget their penny-pinching and take a taxi to the party at Hastingham, an extravagant, rococo palace about thirty miles from Oxford. The taxi ride would be expensive but Kate knew she was the only one among the younger staff to receive an invitation and she was reluctant to trouble Sir Bruton with her transportation problems.

  Despite their brisk pace the two women arrived at the Sheldonian Theatre just minutes before the start of the exercises and the large imposing hall was packed with people. Hundreds of students accompanied by parents, sat in a setting designed like a semi-circular Roman amphitheater awaiting the start of the ceremonies. The front rows, directly opposite the stage, were reserved for distinguished guests invited for the occasion. Kate returned a friendly look at the greetings of several of her students and led Emma to the section set aside for the faculty. Kate looked about. Although she had been in the theatre many times she could never get her fill of the beauty and grandeur of Oxford's first classical building, designed in the seventeenth century to accommodate formal university ceremonies.

  The teeming hall fell silent as the dean of the college ascended the podium accompanied by several senior professors. The president gave a long speech and Kate listened with half an ear. For the last time she reviewed in her mind the short address she had prepared at Sir Bruton's request. He had been her father's friend and colleague for many years and had a special affection for Kate from her days as a prize-winning student. The smooth voice of Sir Bruton rolled through the hall and Kate concentrated her attention on him as he announced, “And now I would like to invite to the stage a man who was one of our outstanding students, a preeminent and illustrious guest whose unstinting support and efforts on behalf of the college are in the tradition established by his great-great-grandfather and continued by his family over the generations. I'd like to introduce the Marquis Camedon.”

  Kate felt Emma's hand squeeze hers. Good heavens, he was a Marquis. She almost burst into laughter. The cold and conceited Matthew Camedon was a Marquis!

  “What do you say to that?” Emma whispered, but Kate didn't answer, her eyes rooted to the imposing figure of Matthew Camedon getting up from his chair in the front row and making his way to the stage. His elevated titl
es did not entitle him to treat ordinary mortals with the lack of manners and politeness he had exhibited that morning but she could not help but be impressed by them. She began to feel that the invitation extended, even if reluctantly on the part of the Marquis, for the weekend at Bellewoodplain was a unique opportunity. And she had no intention of passing it up.

  The Marquis ascended the stage. Dressed in a dark suit, Kate had to admit he looked as handsome in his conservative clothes as he had that morning in corduroy pants and leather jacket. She wondered if he would be present at the grand party later that evening. Yes, she decided, of course he would be there. After all, he was no doubt the reason for the party and its main attraction. I wonder if he's married, she thought and was immediately ashamed of herself. What difference did it make? She stole a glance at her sister, wondering what thoughts were passing through her mind but Emma was looking attentively at the stage and Kate fixed her gaze on Matthew.

  He spoke courteously and graciously although Kate still discerned a certain dryness and coldness in his tone as he greeted the president of the university, the faculty and the students.

  He stood at ease, and from where she sat Kate could observe him without hindrance and without fear that he would notice her. She discovered a dimple near one corner of his mouth that appeared whenever he would pause and tighten his lips. He ended his address to great applause, especially from a well-pleased Sir Bruton who smiled happily and continuously throughout the speech.

  Several speakers later it was Kate's turn. She would have given a great deal to see Lord Matthew Camedon's expression when Sir Bruton introduced her and several hundred students expressed appreciation for their favorite lecturer by bursting spontaneously into enthusiastic applause. She lifted her skirt, walking with measured steps up the stairs that led to the podium. Slim and patrician, she drew close to the microphone and looked at the overflowing assemblage below her, holding up her hand to quiet the clapping.

  “Tonight I have the honor of addressing an especially appreciative audience. This display of warmth and affection are most flattering in light of the fact that I have, for my part, developed a deep fondness for the people here tonight. I had the privilege of teaching as well as being closely involved with these extraordinary students, defined by their sensitivity, intelligence, and thoughtfulness as well as by their strong commitment to broadening their horizons while at Trinity College. It is these traits which will stand them in good stead as they leave the protective walls of the college and face a less sheltered world. In the outside world you will most certainly meet up with pride and prejudice, with egotism and ignorance, with wickedness and cruelty. Life may lead you up various and twisting roads and you may face difficult choices and many temptations. I hope the foundations laid here at Trinity College will help you to stand firm, to respond to the goodness in your heart, be true to yourself and to others, and always prefer the honest and decent over the narrow-minded and mean-spirited.”

  The Marquis Camedon listened as Kate's rich and fervent voice flowed towards him, inexplicably arousing every nerve in his body. He could not take his eyes off her. How could he ever have thought her unattractive? It was beyond him. The burgundy skirt was long but he was aware of the shapely legs under its folds. Her waist was narrow and her chest rounded and firm. The blouse she wore looked so supple and inviting that he had a sudden strong urge to feel the soft material between his fingers and caress her body. Only when John Bayhem, sitting beside him, whispered something did he arouse himself from his reverie. He must be out of his mind. He didn't even know her.

  He heard the prolonged applause behind his back as Kate finished speaking and made her way to the stairs. His eyes followed her and she turned her face towards him as she descended. Did he imagine the mischievous smile she sent his way? Preposterous! He was beginning to fantasize. The ceremonies were long and many speeches were made in the big hall. The graduates were awarded their degrees and the top students received scholarships and prizes from the president. Finally, two hours after it started, the commencement was over.

  “Do you think we should say hello to the Marquis?” whispered Emma as they stood in line for the exit.

  “No. He's probably in a hurry to get to the dinner in his honor at Sir Bruton's and anyway, I have the impression he won't appreciate your gesture. He doesn't seem accustomed to conversing with women of no consequence.”

  “Look, Kate.” Emma tilted her head imperceptibly at a group moving in their direction. An elderly couple walked by the Marquis' side while John Bayhem brought up the rear.

  “I think I'll go over and speak to them. You must admit that at least John was nice and friendly.”

  “Maybe you'll find out he isn't a plain ‘Mister’ either but has some title or other,” muttered Kate as, in confirmation, they heard the older woman in the distinguished group turn to John Bayhem as they neared the two women, “and how is Lady Mary, Lord John? Is she feeling well?”

  “My mother is very well, thank you, although since my father died she rarely leaves her house in Wiltshire,” he answered.

  “Please convey my warmest regards,” she continued but Bayhem was not paying her any attention. As his eyes met Emma's he made his apologies to the older woman and swiftly made his way to her side. The Marquis, in a polite but aloof tone, made a similar apology to the dignified couple who continued their way to the exit, and stood near his friend.

  “We meet again.” Bayhem's face radiated his obvious pleasure at the sight of Emma as he continued elatedly, “Fate must have destined Emma and me for each other as it's the third time today we've bumped into each other. This is more than mere coincidence.”

  Kate almost burst into laughter. She kept a straight face but could not, and didn't even attempt, to hide the smile in her eyes as she turned to the Marquis. “Do you believe then, that you and I are also meant for each other?”

  He looked at her with an indecipherable expression as he answered without a trace of a smile, “Perhaps. It depends on what you and I choose to believe.”

  He is serious to the point of grimness, Kate thought. Didn't he possess even a trace of humor? She wanted to make it clear that she was only joking when Bayhem turned to her, “You look marvelous, Kate. Your speech was very moving, and the respect and affection of your students was very apparent.”

  “Thank you Lord Bayhem,” Kate smiled at him.

  “Enough of these tiresome titles, I'm John and he's Matthew. As we plann to spend a long weekend together it would be absurd to have you address us with titles that we never use, except for formal occasions. Don't you agree, Matthew?”

  “Yes,” he answered curtly.

  He certainly doesn't waste words, thought Kate. She saw him cast a brief look at his watch but he said nothing.

  “Will we see you later at the ball?” asked Emma.

  “Certainly, we plan to go to the party directly from the dinner Bruton is hosting in Matthew's honor in,” he glanced at his watch and looked at Matthew in surprise, “in less than twenty minutes time. I didn't realize it was so late.” He turned again to Emma and Kate, “we must be off, but please, allow us to pick you up so we can go together to the ball.”

  Kate and Emma exchanged glances. There was no doubt in Kate's mind that this suggestion reflected John Bayhem's continuing interest in her sister, and besides, it would be nice to drive up to the party in a fancy car that would take them door to door from their apartment.

  “We'd love that,” Kate replied delightedly. From the look on Emma's face it was clear she also had no desire to decline the offer.

  Matthew kept silent. Kate felt his eyes on her face but refused to return his look. She had no intention of letting Matthew Camedon's obvious coldness towards her spoil her good mood.

  Emma gave John their address and the two sisters and two friends went their separate ways.

  At nine thirty the bell rang. Emma opened the door and let John in. Very good-looking in his white shirt and black tuxedo, his hair was brushed
back and fell smoothly behind his ears. Kate heard John's admiring voice as he complimented her sister before she joined them in the living room. Kate agreed wholeheartedly. Emma looked glamorous in a long blush pink gown. Her figure was fuller than Kate's and the feminine dress emphasized her round buttocks and full breast. Honey curls framed her angelic face with a golden glow. John stared as though hypnotized and didn't move his adoring eyes from her.

  “Is Matthew waiting downstairs?” Emma asked as she fetched her purse and coat.

  “No. Sir Bruton asked him to accompany his daughter to the ball in his car. We'll meet him there.”

  Kate was flooded with an unfamiliar feeling, a combination of rejection and anger. She had met Lillian Bruton several times in the past. She was younger than Kate by a year and very pretty, but in Kate's eyes, far from attractive. She could not understand what Matthew Camedon could possibly see in such a superficial woman whose sole ambition in life was to catch a rich husband. She suppressed a snicker as Jane Austen's opening sentence in Pride and Prejudice suddenly crossed her mind: 'It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife'. She relaxed. Despite her lack of affection for Camedon she had to admit he was intelligent. She didn't know how much wisdom he possessed but it was clear he was no fool.