by Shales, Mia
Kate did not dare to move.
“After he left Bellewoodplain it was as though the earth swallowed him up. The reports I got indicated he went to the Far East and lived in Singapore. A few months ago the private investigative service I hired informed me that Lindsay had returned to Britain and was seen in the company of known criminals. I contacted the police and gave them all the information I had. It turns out that a few years back Richard was involved in drug deals and he's been wanted by the police for a long time. Now do you understand why I'm angry at myself? I should have warned you when I saw him introduce himself to you at the party. I was too proud, too hurt. You refused my invitation to dance and at that moment all I could feel was your scorn and disdain. That annoyed me and the way I handled the pain does me little credit.”
“Don't be so hard on yourself, how could you know the follow-up would be so dramatic? If it didn't concern such a mixed-up, difficult girl like Jemina, nothing would have happened.”
“You're generous. I don't deserve the attention of such a woman as you.”
Kate laughed and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, I want to ride Saffron before we have to go back.”
Chapter Ten
After breakfast, over Matthew's protests, Kate shut herself up in the study with the manuscript. She spent the entire day going over it again and again. The paper and ink would have to be examined in a lab. The style, orthography, and handwriting were Jane Austen's, or at least of a contemporary. Kate read the entire hundred and forty pages with relish. The novel was not as polished as the author's other novels, but it was entirely possible that it was a youthful attempt. If this proved to be her earliest exercise in novel writing it would be the most sensational literary discovery in decades. Tomorrow she would contact Mr. Mallory and ask when he could arrive at Bellewoodplain to examine the manuscript. It was evening before Matthew could persuade her to abandon the library.
“Kate, that's enough. The other guests are due in a quarter of an hour and you have to dress. By the way,” he added nonchalantly, “I asked one of the maids to transfer your clothes to my room and next week I'll send someone over to bring the rest of your things from Oxford.”
“Don't you think this is a bit rash? You might regret this. In another week you might not be able to bear the sight of me.”
“There's no chance of that. You're staying and the subject is closed for discussion.”
She had no intention of arguing. She had no wish to leave the Garden of Eden she had just entered. They went together to Matthew’s suite. Matthew quickly showered and dressed, and went down to greet the expected guests. She chose a light blue dress. It was elegant enough in case the other guests were dressed up and not too fancy if they dressed informally.
The others were already gathered in the south drawing room. All the men were casually dressed, in blazers and without a tie. Emma had chosen a thin wool pants suit and John's two sisters wore fashionable dresses. Introductions were quickly made and Kate shook hands all around.
Catherine Bayhem looked around twenty-five. Not pretty, with prominent features, thin lips and a straight, narrow nose, she was tall and slim and had an air of chic elegance. Lady Claire Taylor was little and round. Her features were indistinct, her expression pleasant. Her husband, Baron William Grannick, was short, fat and, as far as Kate could judge during the course of the evening, none too bright. During most of the evening his face ran the gamut from doleful to fatuous and only after dinner, when John proposed a game of cards, did his pink face light up as he enthusiastically approved.
It was clear the two sisters were making an effort to befriend Emma, and Kate was pleased to note the assiduous attention they paid to her sister. They had little to say to Kate and she could lean back and study the others. Not far away Matthew stood talking to John and William. She glanced at him and he smiled at her. Her heart skipped a beat. His smile evoked memories of the past night and the magic of nights to come. A seductive and sensual smile. Intimate.
When she turned back to the group of women by her side, Kate was taken aback by the naked hostility in Catherine's stare. Her lips were pursed and transformed into a red line.
A short while later they were summoned to dinner. Not in the grandiose hall, but in a smaller dining room.
“We never use the grand dining room,” Matthew, walking between Kate and Catherine told her, “unless there are at least twenty-five guests. But we take advantage of it when there are thirty or forty.”
The table was set with delicate porcelain dishes, silverware with the family crest, long-stemmed crystal glasses that sparkled in the light of the chandeliers. Matthew sat at the head of the table and Kate found herself at the other end. She did not miss the glare in Catherine's eyes as she sat down at her left.
Matthew went all the way. He must be aware that by seating her opposite him he was making a public statement that she, Kate, was the official hostess of Bellewoodplain. Matthew looked serene and at ease. His composure calmed her and she regained a measure of self-confidence.
“I understand you're here to inspect the manuscript John found.” Catherine addressed her.
“Yes, that's true,” Kate answered.
“How long are you staying at Bellewoodplain?”
“I don't know.”
“Well, I suppose you'll have to leave before the coming weekend as the Dowager is coming to Bellewoodplain with Matthew's fiancee.”
Kate could not conceal her astonishment. What Catherine had just said was in stark contrast to what Rebecca had told her in London.
“I didn't know Matthew was engaged.”
Catherine laughed and dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “He's very much engaged, my dear. I'm surprised you haven't heard. His engagement was announced in the papers a few days ago and the young bride's picture was in all the gossip columns on the continent.”
“Then I wish them all the luck in the world,” Kate said quietly.
“If you take my advice, you'll clear out before the Dowager arrives.” Catherine lifted her voice and the rest, who had paid no attention to her remarks up until then, lifted their heads in her direction.
“And why, if I may ask, should she do that?” Icicles dripped in Matthew's voice.
Catherine laughed shortly. “You know as well as I do that your grandmother won't tolerate Kate's presence at Bellewoodplain. The fact that she's your chosen girlfriend of the moment will not make a big impression on Lady Theresa.
“Catherine, how dare you?” John was shocked.
“I simply want Kate to know the truth, that's all. If she thinks she'll get a warm welcome from Lady Theresa, it's in her best interests that someone set her straight now. Since you and Matthew obviously have no intention of doing so I thought it my duty to take on the thankless task. I don't see what's wrong with that.”
“You’ve said enough, Catherine,” said John angrily to his sister.
Kate saw Matthew start to say something and immediately took charge of the conversation, turning to the woman at her side. “I appreciate your concern for me and your frankness. I’m sure you mean well." She gave Matthew a warning look, as though asserting: don't interfere, I can meet this challenge and don't need any help. “And now I suggest we drop the subject. It would be a shame to ruin a marvelous evening, especially over such trivia.” She smiled encouragingly at Catherine.
Silence reigned at the table. Matthew leaned back in his chair and said nothing. Kate sighed in relief. The last thing she wanted was for Matthew to clash openly with Catherine. He would have to learn there were more ways than one to handle disconcerting situations. The best results were not necessarily reached by open combat.
Catherine looked uncomfortable. “I'm sorry if I offended you,” she finally said to Kate. “Sometimes I tend to be too frank."
Kate smiled. “No harm has been done.”
“How long has Roget been chef at Bellewoodplain?” Emma asked Matthew, forcing him to pay attention to her, and Kate thanked her in her heart. T
he tension slowly dissipated and the conversation was soon as lively as before. The meal over, they all went to the large drawing room for coffee. John suggested a game of cards and all, except Kate, enthusiastically agreed. She excused herself, claiming fatigue, and left for the room she shared with Matthew. He accompanied her to the foot of the stairs. “I'll join you soon. Are you sure you feel well?”
She was just tired from the riding, Kate assured him, that was all.
Upstairs in the bedroom, she sat in the armchair and tried to marshal her thoughts. She didn't believe he was engaged. He would never dare invite her to stay with him at Bellewoodplain if the rumor were correct. She would not repeat her mistake with Richard Lindsay and believe Catherine without checking the facts. But had she lied when she insisted his engagement had been announced in all the papers? No. It was hard to believe Catherine would make that up. Still, it was incredible that he was engaged. She remembered Rebecca's words very well: 'she's just eighteen and Matthew almost had a stroke when he heard of it’.
Something was not quite right, was illogical, in Catherine's statement. Kate determined to say nothing to Matthew. She would let things ride. If he was engaged, he would have to let her know within a few days and if he wasn't engaged then there was no cause for commotion. She knew the uncertainty would be hard to bear but also knew that every minute, hour and day they were together would add up to the myriad happy memories that eventually would give her the strength to leave him without being shattered into a million pieces.
Matthew entered the room a little while later. His eyes warm and tender, he pulled her to her feet and embraced her tightly. She would trust him. She would take a gamble on his feelings for her. She would give him all her love and hope for the best. Kate lifted her face as her hands pulled his down. Her lips hungered for him and her body begged to meld with his. She pushed him to the bed and he let his body fall back. She felt liberated and daring. This was not the logical and poised person Kate knew herself to be. She was a free spirit, reveling in their burning passion. His kisses set up a storm and his hands a wildfire. She was hot, wet, sensuous and giving. Her bones were like the melting snow and her flesh as soft as the grass in the dew.
“I'll never let you go, my darling,” he murmured, “never!”
The next morning Emma and Kate got a riding lesson from the head groom and were then joined by John and Matthew. The weather continued to be fair and warm and that afternoon they picnicked by the peaceful lake. Later Kate resumed her perusal of the manuscript. She called Mr. Mallory and they agreed that within the next few weeks he would make time on one of the weekends and come up to inspect the manuscript. If he was of one mind with Kate and felt there was even a slight chance the manuscript might be authentic, it would be packed in a special case he would bring with him and taken for laboratory examination.
In the late afternoon Kate searched for her sister, finding her with John in the garden, not far from the house. They invited her to sit beside them.
“It's good you came, Kate. What I've just told Emma concerns you as well. I've made apologies, in Catherine's name, for her rude behavior. Lately she's been in a terrible mood and I think the true reason for it is Matthew's indifference to her. Last summer Matthew invited me down to Bellewoodplain and my sister joined me for a few weeks. Matthew was his usual charming self and, as her host, paid her a great deal of attention. Unfortunately she refused to listen to my advice and returned his friendly behavior with romantic feelings. For over a year she lived with the delusion that Matthew would marry her when he tired of his romantic escapades. Only lately was she forced to admit to herself there was no chance in the world he would choose her for his wife. That's why she is so tense in his presence and why she shows her claws to any woman to whom he pays the slightest attention."
“I see the Marquis is in great demand,” Emma murmured and glanced at Kate, causing the latter to blush.
“Almost any woman I know would give her right arm to win his love.”
“Has any woman ever been granted his love?”
"Never," said John and a thoughtful smile touched his lips as he looked at Kate. “At least not until now,” he added. He rose. “I'll leave the two of you together. You must have alot to talk about. I'll wait for you in the house,” he said to Emma.
As he moved away she took Emma's hand in her. “I must tell you something, Emma, something important. Matthew has asked me to stay on at Bellewoodplain and I've agreed.”
Kate feared Emma would criticize her decision. She would advise her not to waste her time on a man who would never marry her. For a moment she felt a sharp pain. How would she continue on with her life if he told her to go? How would she be able to smile, to talk to people? How would she return to work, stand infront of the students and declaim love poems?
But Emma’s reaction was just the opposite. “I'm so happy for you. Matthew is a splendid person and I feel a great deal of respect and affection for him. From the time he brought you up from London, I was certain he was in love with you. Will you come back with us to Oxford tomorrow?"
“No. I've made a list of clothes and other items. If you agree to pack them, Matthew will send someone on Wednesday.”
“That's the least I can do for you.” Emma smiled at her, “I have something to tell you as well. An hour ago John proposed and I consented to marry him.”
“Emma, that's marvelous,” Kate was so excited the words caught in her throat. “I love you so much. I wish the two of you all the luck in the world. I liked John the moment I saw him. You're a lucky girl and he is even luckier. Does father know?”
“Not yet. I'll call him in a little while.”
Dinner was livelier and merrier than ever. John made a formal announcement of the engagement and Matthew, who had obviously known of his friend's intentions, presented them with a gift – a painting of a contemporary well known artist. Roget, instructed to prepare a festive meal, surpassed himself and the finest wines were brought to the table and poured into gleaming glasses. Kate, truly delighted for her sister, participated gaily in the evening's high spirits and set aside for the duration of the evening disquieting thoughts about the future of her relationship with Matthew.
Later that night, after passionate lovemaking, when Matthew slept with his arm about her waist, the disturbing thoughts returned. He never mentioned marriage or even a steady relationship. Perhaps she was no different from all the other women he had been with? Perhaps they all deluded themselves with the fantasy that they would be the first woman who would cause him to fall in love and go down on his knees to ask for their hand? But even if it were all to prove a dream or fantasy, she knew she lacked the strength to initiate the parting. She loved him and would never love another.
Emma and John left the next morning. They planned to stay over in Oxford a few days and then go on to London, announce their engagement and begin the preparations for the wedding. On their way they would stop over with John's mother, Lady Mary Bayhem, in Wiltshire so she could get to know her son's fiancee.
“I'm sure she will adore you. No one could help but love you,” Kate calmed her sister and they parted with kisses and hugs.
The days passed in a trice. Matthew devoted a few hours of each day to business and spent the rest of his time with Kate. He liked to be present at her riding lessons and watch her and Saffron nuzzle each other. She was a natural rider and they were soon cantering together on the paths of Bellewoodplain. He loved to see the heightened color of her cheeks, her long hair blowing in the wind and her chest rising and falling in rhythm.
They lay at the foot of the ancient trees of Bellewoodplain and revealed themselves as lovers do.
“Did you love him?” he asked, trying to stay calm when she described her affair with Patrick. He felt the same eeriness, the dull pain that tore at him during the party in Oxford, when he saw her laughing with other men, dancing in their arms, and relived the anguish he had felt in London when he imagined her in the city with another man.
It was no wonder he had not been able to identify the feeling earlier. He had never known jealousy before. He was jealous only for Kate. His passion was as boundless as the stars in the firmament, as fiery as molten iron. She excited him, tantalized him, interested him, roused him physically and intellectually and caused him, for the first time in his life, to feel utterly and completely happy.
“No, I suppose I never really loved him. I was attracted to the intellectual aura that surrounded him, and not by the man himself, not by his real self.”
“I'm glad he was married and you discovered in time how vile he was or else you would, almost certainly, have married him, and I would never have met you.”
“Perhaps,” she answered pensively, “Anyway, I learned my lesson from everything that happened.”
“What was that?”
“To guard my heart, never offer it to any man.”
“Not even to me?”
“If it was up to me, not even to you.”
“Is it up to anyone else but you?”
“Only after I met you did I learn that the heart has a will of its own.”
So she did feel more for him than a passing physical attraction. She admitted it. In a little while she would be completely his, body, soul and heart. He was pleased she told him about Patrick, that she trusted him enough to tell him her secrets. He wanted no barriers between the two of them.
One day as they stopped the horses for a short rest he mentioned his grandmother's visit.
“She's coming this Friday with my cousin for a few weeks. I was angry at Catherine for her tactless words at dinner that evening but to be honest, I must admit there's something in what she said. I'm warning you in advance that my grandmother will be furious when she finds out what your presence here really means, but I count on you to put her in her place tactfully, but firmly. I can assure you her bark is worse than her bite.”
