London, Julia - The Perfect Stranger

by Radha

With a sharp sigh, Arthur turned and grabbed Kerry by the shoulders, not caring what Max heard or saw now. You have no choice, Kerry! It is either this house or the stable, and trust me, you will not want to share a stall with the likes of Thunder!

  Kerry defiantly tipped her head back. I prefer the stables!

  That can definitely be arranged! he shot back querulously.

  Good! Then please point me in the proper direction as I should very much like to be gone before another living soul lays eyes on me!

  Arthur?

  Startled by the female voice, Arthur and Kerry simultaneously jerked their gazes toward it. Lilliana Spence stood in the foyer, looking very elegant and very bewildered. Her green eyes flicked the full length of his personal disarray, then to Kerrys. One sculpted blonde brow lifted above the other in silent question.

  Bloody hell. Arthur cleared his throat. Lilliana. I must apologize for arriving so ah, so no doubt you are wondering

  Please come in, wont you? You must be very cold, she said to Kerry, and extended her hand as she suddenly moved toward them.

  N-no thank you, Kerry muttered, stepping backward and putting her heel down on Arthurs toes. I wouldna think of spoiling your houseI mean, the mud

  Nonsense. Its merely a floor and you could not spoil it if you tried, Miss ?

  Lady Albright, may I introduce you to Mrs. McKinnon of Glenbaden, Scotland, Arthur quickly interjected.

  Scotland! Lillianas face lit with her smile. I thought I detected a bit of an accent! Ooh, how very lovely, Mrs. McKinnon! I have been desperate to travel to Scotland, and I have read all the beautiful poetry of Wordsworth. My husband promises to take me there once our children are a bit older. Lilliana paused to peer at the gray sky through the open doorway, then at the grimy red satchel before bestowing a warm smile on Kerry. We must get you into some dry clothing, she said, motioning for Max to close the door.

  No, Kerry said instantly, I wouldna impose

  It is no imposition, Mrs. McKinnon. It is a wonderful treat for me to have a true Scot in my very own house. And Arthur, Lilliana said firmly, you are in need of a bath, if you will pardon my saying so. Max, do have two baths drawn at once, please, she said as she extended her hand and wrapped it around Kerrys, seemingly oblivious to the mud caked to her wrist. Please come in, Mrs. McKinnon. You will catch your death.

  With a scowl for Arthur, Kerry allowed Lilliana to pull her deeper into the foyer. Arthur, Max will attend you momentarily, Lilliana called over her shoulder, and began a march up the spiraling staircase, dragging Kerry behind her.

  Arthur could see why Adrian loved the woman so she never once looked back to see how Kerrys soiled skirts dragged the blue carpet of the stairs, nor did she look at her hair or stained clothing. She spoke to Kerry as if she were an equal, and for that alone, Arthur would adore Lilliana Spence for the rest of his days.

  What in Gods name has happened to your boots? Arthur closed his eyes and prayed that the rest of his days would not include many like this. He opened them slowly, turned reluctantly to see Adrian leaning negligently against a wall, one ankle crossed over the other, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, observing Arthur with a very pointed look of amusement on his face. If you dont mind me saying, you look like hell.

  Why thank you, Albright, for the kind compliment. Adrian ignored that, and inclined his head to the floors above where Lilliana and Kerry had just disappeared. I suppose you know that I am all aflutter with anticipation of the tale of how you have come to be herelooking like that, naturallyand with a new charge.

  Yes, Arthur rather imagined he was all aflutter, and with an impatient sigh, he raked a dirty hand through his tangled hair. I d be right happy to oblige you in exchange for a hot bath and a bottle of your best whiskey. Adrians brows lifted. A bottle, is it? Very well then, I shall have Max fetch our bestI shouldnt want to hear what I am quite certain is a delightful tale with anything less than that.

  And he apparently meant to hear it at once, seeing as he followed Arthur into the bathing room when Max had announced his bath ready. Arthur ignored Adrian; he was too busy luxuriating in the steaming waters. With his eyes closed and his head propped lazily against the edge of the porcelain tub, he let the water seep beneath his skin and scald the grime of the last ten days from his body. Every now and again he would open one eye to see Adrian sprawled along a long, silk-covered window bench, one leg bent at the knee and heel propped against it without regard for the fine fabric. In one hand, he held his head; with the other he held a crystal glass from which he languidly sipped aged Scotch whiskey when he wasnt peering intently at Arthur.

  Arthur was just beginning to feel human again when Adrian at last asked, Well then, lets have it. Arthur merely snorted, kept his eyes closed. Ah, Christian, you dont mean to taunt me, do you? Really, you must consider this from my point of view. You appear from nowhere after a strange foray into Scotland and a lengthy absence, inexplicably covered head to foot with mud and a Scottish woman on your arm to boot. And now you would play coy? Tsk, tsk.

  Arthur chuckled. You act as if you never appeared at Mount Street under suspect circumstances, Albright. You cant deny that you have and you must acknowledge that I did not insist on interrogating you on those occasions, he responded, and sank lower into the water. Yes, well, perhaps. But you are Arthur. And besides, I never appeared with a strange woman on my arm you surely have me confused with Kettering.

  That earned another chuckleJulian had, indeed, appeared at his door on several occasions with unknown women on his arm and some quite well known. Nor did I interrogate Kettering, though God knows I should have.

  Come on, then. Your brother has sent two letters asking if I have had occasion to see you. We were all beginning to fret a bitso who is this woman, where in the hell have you been, and what have you done to those fine boots?

  Funny, but Arthur had not, until this very moment, imagined what words he might use to explain Kerry. Or his whereabouts the last few weeks. Or why he had risked his bloody neck to bring her here. He slowly opened his eyes and glanced at one of his oldest friends.

  Adrian had righted himself, was leaning forward with his arms propped against his thighs, the glass dangling carelessly from one hand, watching Arthur closely. Who is she, Arthur?

  God, if only he knew! He sank lower until his chin skimmed the surface of the hot water, contemplating that. What was he doing? What madness had overcome him, what demon had possessed him and allowed him to believe that he could bring Kerry here, no questions asked, no explanations?

  I cant imagine what happened in Scotland, but I think she must be someone rather dear for you to have gone to such trouble, Adrian said.

  If only he knew. Dearer than my own life, Arthur muttered. The admission surprised him far more than it seemed to surprise Adrian. He had not meant to say any such thing, but it had sprung involuntarily from his lips, had escaped him before he could pull them back.

  She is Scottish. And the widow of a poor, landless one at that. She is no one.

  I beg your pardon, Adrian drawled, she is clearly someone to you.

  Arthur looked at his friend then, searching his face for any sign of condemnation, any hint that he would not accept her.

  He saw none.

  But he saw the lines of aristocracy in Adrian, the placid expression and years of practiced indifference in his voice. Undoubtedly, he was trying to be accepting of this strange situation, trying to understand, but how could he possibly make him see? How could he explain to Adrian that Kerry had taught him how to live?

  Do you recall, he asked slowly, the evening the four of us accompanied Alex to the opera? It was the night he unveiled his newly appointed box.

  Adrian stared at the whiskey in his glass for a moment. I recall clearly, he said, looking up from his glass Quite clearly. Phillip had drunk far too much brandy a: usual.

  You will surely recall, then, how he angered Alex beyond compare by bringing Miss Daphne into the box. Adrian nodded.

  Arthur
looked toward the fire. He could almost see Phillip there, his blond head bent over Daphne, explaining the opera to her. Alexa duke, a man of propriety-had been livid. Daphne was one of Madame Farantinos charges, a woman who pleasured men of the aristocracy in a discreet brothel behind the Tarn OShanter. She was Phillips favorite, and indeed, he had developed quite an attachment to her in those days, one that almost rivaled his attachment to brandy.

  Alex had invited the four Rogues of Regent Street to his box on the opening night of the opera. That was their era, the days when the Times hardly went to press without some mention of their exploits. Phillip had disappeared during the opening act, reappearing with Daphne on his arm at the most inopportune time of allat intermission, when everyone was crowding the box to pay a call or request introductions. Alex was furious with Phillip and quite embarrassed, but there was nothing he could do without causing a scene.

  I was quite angry on Alexs behalf, Arthur continued. When I later confronted Phillip about his reprehensible behavior, he looked at me as though I had disappointed him somehow. I remember thinking that it was a rather odd reaction to my anger. You consort with women just like Daphne, he said to me. Do you think the women you ride like a dog are so insignificant beyond your bed that you would deny them the very simple pleasure of music?

  Arthur paused, remembering how the question had mortified him on many levels, not the least of which was the grain of truth in it. Adrian said nothing, remained very still, waiting for him to continue. Of course I held more regard for the woman than that, he said, silently questioning whether or not that was entirely true. But Alexs opera box? It was unimaginable, incomprehensible. I had to think of his reputationa young duke, so much he was trying to accomplish, so many who would have delighted in seeing him fail. I said as much to Phillip, and reminded him that Daphne was not of suitable situation, that her very presence tainted the important work my brother was trying to accomplish in gaining the social reforms that would help women like her.

  Ive no doubt he responded with something terribly mocking, Adrian muttered.

  He said, Then your brother touts false reform, Arthur, if it is people like Daphne he professes to save, for Daphne is a living, breathing human being, as much Gods child as you or I. She is as deserving of his esteem as anyone, but if she is not good enough to sit in his box, then there is no hope that she can be saved from men like your brother.

  Arthur looked at Adrian. Kerry is someone to me she is someone I never dreamed could touch me, someone not of my class, someone whose situation could taint my familys good name. Yet she did touch meshe touched me in a way I can scarcely understand, much less describe to you. She is someone to me, all right. She is everything to meshe is a living, breathing human being, as much Gods child as you or I, and as deserving of my esteem as anyone.

  Adrian blinked, held Arthurs gaze for a long moment before suddenly tossing the last of his whiskey down his throat. Well then, that makes her someone to me. Now I suggest you remove yourself from that pond before you drown and I am forced to think what to do with her.

  He flashed a droll smile at Arthur and stood, strolled to the door. Ive no doubt Max has fetched you the best of my clothing, he said with a roll of his eyes. Well gather in the gold salon before supper. With that, he walked out of the room, and Arthur heard him tell Max to bring another bottle up from the cellar, as Christian was going to be in desperate need of it.

  He chuckled to himself before submerging completely into the warm waters of his bath.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Standing in front of a full-length mirror, Kerry turned again, unable to believe her eyes. The transformation in her was remarkable.

  The gown she wore was finer than any she had ever seen or imagined. It was a pale blue silk trimmed in white satinnot black, not gray, or some other morosely drab widow color. Never had she looked so bloody elegant. Even her hairMrs. Dismuke, Lady Albrights personal maid, had dressed her wet hair with her big hands, artfully rolling it into a thick chignon and fastening it with jewel-tipped pins to the back of her head.

  Lady Albright had given her a pair of large pearl earrings to wear to supper and a matching necklace. It was odd, Kerry thought, that the pearls she had cherished as her most valued possession all these years would have looked so terribly small and ordinary compared to these. No wonder Mr. Abernathy had chuckled so when she had shown them to him and then carelessly tossed them into the safe box.

  The memory of that interview had her suddenly feeling like a fraud, and she quickly glanced away from the mirror, unable to look at herself. What was she doing pretending she was some sort of lady? She no more belonged in clothes this fine than she belonged in this house! House? Lord God, it was a. palace, with gold and marble and crystal everywhere she looked. For the past two hours she had felt she was living inside some dream, moving from one fantasy to another, afraid to move too fast or too suddenly lest it all evaporate.

  Oh, Mrs. McKinnon, how beautiful you look!

  Kerry forced a smile and glanced self-consciously at Lady Albright as she glided into the dressing room wearing a lavender gown even lovelier than the one Kerry wore. I I doona know how to thank you for the bath and this, she said, motioning awkwardly to the gown.

  Lady Albright gave the gown a dismissive flick of her wrist. I havent worn that gown in ages. Actually, I havent worn any of my old gowns since my son was born. Unfortunately, I cannot fasten the silly things around my middle. It suits you so well! You must keep it.

  Kerry gasped at the suggestion. Oh no! I canna keep anything as fine as this!

  Posh! muttered Mrs. Dismuke.

  I insist. No, no, Lady Albright said cheerfully, throwing up a hand, well have no more discussion of it. If you dont accept the gown as my gift, Polly will hang it in some wardrobe and feed a colony of moths.

  Kerry shifted her gaze to the mirror again, smoothing the embroidered fabric of the bodice. A dozen seamstresses must have labored over the intricate stitching.

  Ah, wont our Arthur be quite surprised? Lady Albright said from behind her.

  Oh, hed be surprised, all right. Would possibly fall over in a fit of apoplexy. But frankly, Kerry was quite anxious to know what Arthur would think of her now. She turned and smiled at her hostess. I am indebted to you for your kindness.

  The woman laughed brightly and motioned her to follow. You are too easily pleased, Mrs. McKinnon. Now then, if you are quite ready, the gentlemen await us in the gold salon.

  They descended the curving flight of stairs and moved down what seemed like an endless stretch of thick blue carpet in a corridor larger than Moncrieffes ballroom. Kerry gaped at the many portraits and porcelain vases and bouquets of fresh hothouse flowers as she hurried after Lady Albright. She was taken aback by the footman who flung open a pair of doors as they approached, and almost collided with Lady Albright when she stepped across the threshold and saw the enormous salon, dominated by a full-length portrait of her hostess wearing a gown encrusted with jewels and a coronet on her fair head.

  Before she could fully absorb the magnificence of the room, a movement to her right caught her eye. Kerry turned and immediately felt the blood drain from her face as Arthur rose slowly from his seat, literally snatching the air from her lungs as he did so.

  Lord God. Dressed in a coat of dark blue superfine and a silk waistcoat of silver and blue, he looked absolutely regal. His neckcloth, silver silk that exactly matched the waistcoat, was tied to perfection and shone against the pure white frills of his shirt. The trousers he wore, a dark gray, hugged every masculine inch of him, tapering into black patent shoes polished to a sheen.

  He was beautiful. Stunningly so. But he had cut his hair. His long, golden brown hair had been shorn to just above his collar and was perfectly arranged.

  Kerry he muttered, and she realized he was staring at her as if in shock. His gaze moved slowly across her, taking her in. He was, as she had guessed, very surprised by her elegant appearance.

  Are we to stand her
e all night whilst you openly admire Mrs. McKinnon, or did you intend to make proper introductions? a deep male voice drawled.

  Kerry looked to her right and immediately blushed at the sight of the powerful build of Lord Albright. The darkly handsome man was standing so close that he might have touched her, yet she had not noticed him until this very moment.

  I should rue the day I do not pause to admire the brilliance of true beauty, Albright, Arthur responded. He thought her beautiful. Please allow me to introduce to you Adrian Spence, Lord Albright, he said softly, then to Lord Albright, Mrs. McKinnon of Glenbaden, Scotland.

  Kerry dropped into an awkward curtsey, but Lord Albright immediately shook his head and grasped her hand, pulling her up. We do not stand on ceremony at Longbridge, Mrs. McKinnon. It is my great pleasure to make your acquaintance, I must say. I have heard quite a lot of you already, he said, and bowed gallantly over her hand. Welcome to our home.

  Thank you, she said, inwardly grimacing at how weak her voice sounded. You are very kind to receive me.

  Ooh, your accent is positively lyrical! Lady Albright said from somewhere beyond her husband. Max, please fetch a wine for Mrs. McKinnon. I rather imagine she is parched after such a very long day. Arthur, will you join her?

  Thank you, Lilliana, but the earl had the good sense to bring up his best whiskey.

  I shall apparently have to bring up the entire stock, Lord Albright drawled, and put Kerrys hand on the crook of his arm as he motioned toward a cluster of sofas and chairs near the massive hearth at the far end of the room. It is our habit to indulge in a bit of brandy prior to supper, Mrs. McKinnon. I hope you arent too terribly famished.

  Her nerves were so frayed she would not be able to choke down a single bite, and shook her head.

  Splendid, said Lord Albright, and seated her in a chair covered in red brocade. I would guess my Lillie has already squeezed you dry with questions of Scotland shes of a mind to visit there soon, I am sure she told you, he said, casting a warm smile at his wife, who had seated herself daintily on the edge of a sofa. Nonetheless, I must insist you repeat it all for me. I traveled there once as a young man many years ago, and I confess, I dont recall much of ithe paused at Arthurs disdainful snort to toss a frown over his shoulderas I was quite caught up with some pressing business.