Seduction of a Proper Gentleman (Last Man Standing)
Page 5
“I am quite sure I have a name.” She might not know her own name but she was fairly confident she didn’t wish for a new one. Did that mean she was proud as well as shallow and vain? Thus far what little she had learned about herself was not especially good.
“Of course you do but unfortunately no one knows it. And we do need to call you something.” Lady Norcroft smiled in a persuasive manner. “I know I wouldn’t be at all happy if someone wanted to change my name. But it is only temporary and nothing more than a convenience really for the rest of us so I do hope you don’t mind.”
She forced a smile to her face. “That makes a great deal of sense.” She squared her shoulders without thinking then wondered if perhaps she wasn’t somewhat courageous as well. Which might make up a little for pride and vanity. “What would you suggest?”
“Nothing immediately comes to mind. I only ever had to name one child and I named him Oliver. The gentleman who wrote my favorite play was named Oliver. I saw it for the first time when I was a girl and I have loved it ever since.” Lady Norcroft cast an affectionate smile at her only child. “It was an excellent choice, don’t you think?”
“It seems to suit him.” Indeed, Oliver struck her as a perfect name for his lordship.
“Now we need a name that suits you.” Lady Norcroft studied her carefully. “What do you think, Oliver?”
“It scarcely matters as it’s only temporary. I have no idea.” He shrugged. “Mary?”
Lady Norcroft rolled her gaze at the ceiling. “Goodness, Oliver, you have no imagination. She is certainly not a Mary. Mary is entirely too ordinary. You can tell just by looking at her, she’s not an ordinary sort of person.”
“Thank you,” Not-a-Mary said under her breath then cringed to herself. There was that pride again.
“Very well then.” He thought for a moment. “Penelope?”
“Better. It’s certainly a possibility.” His mother glanced at Possibly Penelope. “What do you think?”
Possibly Penelope shook her head. “I don’t feel like a Penelope. It strikes me as a somewhat flighty sort of name and I suspect I am not a flighty sort of person.”
“Nonsense.” Lady Norcroft waved away the objection. “I am an Edwina which is not the least bit flighty and yet my son will tell you I am very often flighty. Still, I had no say in my name while, at the moment, you do.” Her expression brightened. “What an exciting opportunity for you.”
“It doesn’t seem very exciting.” Possibly Penelope sighed.
“This is absurd.” Oliver huffed. “We are not naming a child. She doesn’t have to live with it for the rest of her life. Any name will do. What about Elizabeth? Or Sarah? Or Anne?”
“You’re right, I suppose,” his mother said. “After all a rose by any other name…”
“Shakespeare.” The earl nodded sagely.
“Very good, Oliver. It’s nice to know your education was not a complete waste of time.”
“He never was much of a scholar,” What-about-Elizabeth said without thinking.
His eyes narrowed. “How did you know that?”
“Perhaps a name from Shakespeare,” Lady Norcroft said more to herself than to the others.
What-About-Elizabeth widened her eyes. “I have no idea. It just popped into my head.”
“It scarcely matters, Oliver. I daresay anyone with the least bit of sense would see that you were never much of a scholar. You simply don’t have a scholarly look about you.”
He studied What-About-Elizabeth suspiciously. It was most annoying.
What-About-Elizabeth cast him a look every bit as suspicious. “Are you certain we have never met?”
“I have it!” Lady Norcroft said. “My favorite play is She Stoops to Conquer, written by Mr. Oliver Goldsmith.” She glanced at What-About-Elizabeth. “He also wrote The Vicar of Wakefield, which is not nearly as amusing. Dreadful things happen to the poor vicar and his family although all does end well.”
“And your point, Mother?”
“I thought perhaps a literary reference might trigger her memory,” she said with a chastising look. “However, my point was that in She Stoops to Conquer the heroine is mistaken for someone she’s not, which seems to me very much like not knowing who you are at all.”
“The heroine, mother, is pretending to be someone she’s not.” Oliver’s gaze met What-About-Elizabeth’s. “She spends much of the play deceiving the hero.”
What-About-Elizabeth gasped. “It sounds as if you are accusing me of deceiving you.”
He shrugged as if the answer was obvious.
“No, no, he didn’t say that,” Lady Norcroft said quickly. “Although it did sound somewhat like an accusation.”
What-About-Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “That would make you the hero of the piece and thus far I am not at all sure you have displayed especially heroic qualities.”
He glared. “I can be most heroic.”
She shrugged, mimicking his earlier gesture.
“Kate Hardcastle,” Lady Norcroft said abruptly. “The name of the heroine in the play. I think it suits you.”
Oliver’s jaw clenched. “I took you into my house.”
“Kate that is, not Hardcastle,” Lady Norcroft continued. “I don’t think you look like a Hardcastle at all.”
What-About-Elizabeth cast the earl a sardonic smile. “Your hospitality is most kind.”
“Once you had been brought here, we certainly couldn’t turn you away,” Oliver said.
Lady Norcroft pressed her lips together in a disapproving manner. “Not that he didn’t want to.”
Oliver closed his eyes for a moment as if to pray for patience. “I never said that.”
Kate-That-Is drew a calming breath. In truth, she couldn’t blame the earl for his suspicions. She’d probably be suspicious herself if a stranger who didn’t know his own name had been deposited on her front step, wherever that might be. “I would think erring on the side of caution is rarely a mistake.”
“You do?” he said.
“How very sensible of you.” Lady Norcroft beamed.
“I must be a sensible sort of person.” She sighed. So she was sensible as well as vain, proud, and perhaps courageous. She dismissed shallow. Shallow was a quality one could probably overcome with effort. “Lord Norcroft was simply exercising prudence.” Kate-That-Is cast Oliver an apologetic look. “It seems quite understandable to me.”
“As it would to any lady of breeding.” Lady Norcroft threw a smug look at her son. “I told you as much, Oliver.”
Oliver scoffed. “You told me she had fine shoes.”
Fine shoes? Kate-That-Is resisted the urge to look.
“And she does.” Lady Norcroft nodded firmly. “How does Kate sound to you?”
“Kate.” The name didn’t sound right but it didn’t sound exactly wrong either. Kate. “Kate will do I think.”
“Excellent.” Lady Norcroft looked at her son. “Perhaps if you made an effort to find her baggage, a clue to who she is would be found as well.”
“My bags are missing?” Kate said in a weak voice.
“I have already sent a footman to the train station to see if they were simply overlooked in the confusion. Lady Fitzgivens did not strike me as the type of woman one would call overly efficient.” Oliver studied Kate for a moment. “You don’t remember anything at all?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Then how do you know you had bags?”
What a suspicious creature he was. “Surely I must have had bags. I was found at the train platform. I am wearing traveling attire, therefore I must have bags.”
“Where were you going?” he asked quickly, as if to catch her in a lie.
“I don’t know,” she snapped. “But I should be on my way.” She stepped toward the door. Immediately an inexplicable weakness gripped her, the room swam, and she sank down on the chaise. Odd, she had felt perfectly fine a moment ago.
/> “My dear, you are not going anywhere.” Lady Norcroft glared at her son. “See what you’ve done now, Oliver. You’ve upset poor Kate.” She turned to Kate and patted her arm. “We can’t possibly let you leave. You’re obviously not up to it. Besides, you have nothing but the clothes on your back, no money, and no idea where you were going or where you come from.”
“Scotland,” Oliver said. “She’s from Scotland. I can hear it in her voice.”
“Yes, but her accent is not pronounced.” Lady Norcroft’s forehead creased in a considering manner. “It’s my guess she was educated here, in a proper boarding school for young ladies.”
“You can tell that from no more than my speech?” Kate tried not to stare. Lady Norcroft was apparently far more perceptive than she might at first appear.
“Indeed I can.” The older woman’s eyes sparkled. “I have all sorts of accomplishments one would not suspect upon initial acquaintance.” She settled back in her chair. “I am a woman of surprise.”
Oliver laughed. “That you are, Mother.” His gaze slid to Kate. “And far and away too trusting.”
“Although I suspect she is far too intelligent as well to be easily fooled,” Kate said coolly.
He shrugged. “She has a kind and generous heart. Such people are often taken advantage of.”
“And just as often rewarded for their goodness.” Kate forced a smile. “If not in this life, then in the next.”
“I consider it my responsibility to make certain when it comes to my mother, this life is as trouble free as possible.”
“I can’t imagine anyone wishing to cause any trouble whatsoever for your mother. You sir,” Kate narrowed her eyes, “are a different matter entirely.”
Lady Norcroft choked.
“A different matter?” His lordship glared. “I’ll have you know I am considered quite a decent sort.”
“Hah.” She rose to her feet, any previous weakness washed away by indignation. “If you had had your way I would still be lying in the dust at the train platform.”
“I would never leave any unconscious woman lying in the dust at a train platform or anywhere else. However,” he clenched his teeth and a muscle on the side of his jaw twitched, “I would not have invited her into my home.”
Kate squared her shoulders. “I should therefore be happy to leave your home at once.” She turned toward his mother. “Lady Norcroft, while I am most appreciative of your kindness and generosity, I fear my presence here has become quite intolerable to your son.”
“I never said your presence was intolerable,” he said quickly. “I simply hesitate to invite strangers into my home. Strangers who—”
“Who could be anyone. Yes, yes, you said it before.” She drew a deep breath. “Lady Norcroft, if you will be so kind as to arrange transportation for me back to the train station, I am certain I will be able to locate my bags—”
Lady Norcroft shook her head. “But you won’t recognize them.”
“I am willing to take the risk that the very sight of my belongings will at once restore my memory and then I shall be on my way.”
“Good heavens, no,” Lady Norcroft said firmly. “I can’t allow that.”
“Nor can I.” Oliver blew an annoyed breath. “Regardless of the circumstances, you have been brought to our home and therefore are our responsibility.”
Kate glared at him. “Is it your responsibility then to shelter every…every stray creature that wanders to your door?”
“In this small corner of the world, yes,” he snapped.
“Oliver takes his position as earl very seriously,” Lady Norcroft said in an aside to Kate. “He’s quite good in that respect.”
“Still, I would prefer not to stay where I am not wanted.”
“It’s not a question of want.” Oliver’s jaw tightened. “You said it yourself. It’s a question of prudence. You could be anyone.”
“I do hope so,” she said sharply. “As I seem to be without funds at the moment—” she unclasped the bracelet at her wrist and handed it to Lady Norcroft, “—I suspect my bracelet is worth a great deal. If you would be so good as to keep it as collateral and loan me the return fare to London, I shall send for it—”
“Ah-hah!” Oliver aimed an accusatory finger. “How do you know you’ve come from London?”
“I don’t know that I’ve come from London.” She huffed. “I simply surmised that given that your mother said Lady Fitzgivens had just arrived from London. I would imagine that I must have arrived as well. It certainly makes sense. It seems to me a village the size of Norcroft has few trains—”
“Ah-hah! And how do you know how big Norcroft is?”
“I don’t know.” She gritted her teeth. “Again, it’s an assumption on my part as you said this small corner of the world. Am I wrong then? Is Norcroft a great metropolis?”
“Oh, not at all,” Lady Norcroft murmured in an absent manner, intent on studying Kate’s bracelet. “It’s quite small really. Pleasant enough though and charming in its own way.”
“Still—” Oliver began.
“Still?” Kate smirked. “No ah-hah?”
His eyes narrowed. “Not at the moment.”
“I thought surely he had another ah-hah in him,” Lady Norcroft said under her breath.
He ignored her. “But London sounds familiar to you.”
“As do Paris and Rome,” she said sharply. “I daresay I’ve lost my memory not my mind.”
“I would think someone with amnesia would have no memory of anything,” he said in a lofty manner.
“I do apologize for not conforming to your knowledge of such things. You must find it most irritating to discover you don’t know all there is to know about all there is.”
“Indeed I do,” he said staunchly.
Lady Norcroft laughed. “Always.”
He paused and the corners of his mouth quirked upwards as if he recognized the absurdity of the conversation and was resisting the urge to smile. “I rather like believing that I know everything there is to know about everything there is although what I do in truth know is that it’s a false belief.”
“He can be most modest when circumstances call for it.” Lady Norcroft cast an affectionate smile at her son. “He has even been known to admit, on rare occasions, that he might possibly be wrong.”
“On rare occasions only,” he said in a somber tone that belied the humor in his eyes.
Kate stared. What kind of man was this Earl of Norcroft? Overbearing and arrogant one minute, willing to see the humor and make light of his own behavior the next. It was almost endearing. The man was an enigma and, Lord help her, most intriguing.
“Please accept my apologies.” He stepped to Kate and again took her hand and raised it to his lips. His gaze meshed with hers. “You are most welcome to stay as our guest until such time as you regain your memory.” His lips brushed across the back of her hand. “And perhaps beyond.”
Her breath caught. “I doubt that will be necessary.”
“Ah, but you don’t know.” His eyes twinkled in the same manner his mother’s had. But while hers had mirrored amusement, his revealed something altogether different. A promise perhaps, the suggestion of something wonderful to come or wonderfully wicked. Even a hint of magic. “And until you do, you must consider this your home.”
“That’s most gracious of you, my lord.” She tried to pull her hand from his, but he held it firmly.
“Until then, I shall cherish the hope that this was indeed your intended destination.” His gaze remained locked with hers.
“How delightfully charming of you, Oliver,” his mother murmured. “Sometimes, a mother is so proud…”
“And furthermore, I shall do all I can to help you discover the truth as to who you really are.” He stared into her eyes. “And believe me, Kate, I will discover the truth.”
Chapter 4
She stared back at him. “That sounds like a threat, my lord.”
“Not at all,” he said smo
othly. “It’s a promise.”
Kate yanked her hand from his and he had the oddest sense of loss. “And do you always keep your promises?”
“Always. But especially when it comes to the truth.”
“About me?” Her eyes flashed and it struck him that this was a stubborn and no doubt clever woman.
“Are there are other truths to be determined then?”
“I would think there are any number of truths, as it were, in the universe,” Kate said lightly.
“Well versed in philosophy.” Lady Norcroft nodded. “I knew she was properly educated.” She rose to her feet. “Oliver, I suggest you see if there has been any word as to her bags and I will see to our guest.”
“Very well.” He glanced at Kate. “Until later then?”
She smiled politely.
He turned and strode from the room.
“Do you like him?” his mother’s voice trailed after him.
“I haven’t decided yet,” he heard Kate say.
“Not an auspicious beginning but not bad, not bad at all,” his mother responded. “I couldn’t be more pleased…”
Pleased? What on earth did she have to be pleased about? Oliver strode down the hall. Just because an attractive woman is practically dropped at his feet doesn’t mean he’ll take up with her. His mother couldn’t possibly think this stranger was marriageable material. Why, they know nothing about her.
Except that she was lovely with fire in her green eyes and obviously fire in her heart as well. He suspected she would be a challenge for any man. The thought popped into his head without warning. And a joy. He dismissed it.
“Hollinger.” Oliver stopped the butler in the corridor. “Has there been any word as to our guest’s luggage?”
“Not yet, my lord.”
He started off then paused. “Does anything about this situation strike you as suspicious?”
“Suspicious, my lord?”
“Do you think she is who she says she is,” Oliver said impatiently.
“It’s my understanding that she hasn’t said who she is, my lord.”