Lord Devere's Ward

by Sue Swift

  “You must thank her for me. If you could give her this vail…” Entering, Kate saw Anna press a coin into Quinn’s hand.

  “I shall. And, no, you may not have her under any circumstances.”

  Anna stepped back, a look of mock surprise on her face. “My dear brother, I am shocked—

  shocked!—that you would think that I am so treacherous as to attempt to steal your servant.” Kate tried not to laugh. She knew full well that Anna would like nothing better than to hire Quinn’s paragon of a housekeeper. Indeed, Anna had expressed such a sentiment more than once.

  Quinn raised his brows. “I am all in favor of reasonable vails, sister mine, but a gold sovereign?

  This would not be in the nature of a bribe, would it?”

  “Certainly not.” Anna affected a demeanor which reflected both good humor and mild huffiness.

  A neat trick, thought Kate. She made her arrival known by clattering her heels on the marble a bit more loudly than necessary.

  “But here is Kate,” Anna said. “It is most unseemly to quarrel about servants in her presence.” She smiled at Kate. “So you drive with my brother in Hyde Park at five? You will indeed be quite the thing.”

  “If I am all the thing it is because I shine in the light of Devere’s reflected glory,” Kate said, laughing.

  “Indeed not,” Quinn said. “I am graced by your presence.”

  “Is it wise to take Kate to so public a place?” Anna asked.

  “Town is yet thin of company. There’s no danger, Nan.” He offered Kate his arm to lead her from the residence. He guided her up into the curricle, then sat beside her. He took the reins from his tiger. The horses plunged forward, restive. Quinn controlled them as his tiger hopped onto the back of the curricle.

  “I must say, it is a relief to be addressed by my own name,” Kate said. “The constant pretense has become a strain.”

  “I am sorry, Kate, but we will have to continue the charade a while longer. And you must stay close to home.” He drove through Berkeley Square to Mount Street.

  Kate swallowed. “What has happened?”

  “Carrothers has traveled to Somerset to, er, dispossess your uncle and his spawn of your property.”

  “Gillender House? They went to Gillender?” Anger infected Kate’s soul. She could not bear to think of Herbert and Osborn in her home.

  “Indeed they did. We received a missive from one Tompkins in that regard.” The curricle crossed Park Lane, evading the cross-traffic.

  “Tompkins has been our butler for an age, since my father’s day.”

  “He seems to be quite a responsible fellow, but not Badham’s equal. He was unable to eject the Earl even after an appeal to the local magistrate.”

  “That’s an outrage!” Kate’s fists clenched, gripping her reticule.

  “Yes.” Upon entering the park, Quinn slowed the pair. Taking the reins into one hand, he awkwardly patted Kate’s fists with the other. “But not to worry, sweet Kate. I’ve sent Carrothers off with all the proper documents. We’ll have them sent off in a trice.”

  “Will they come here?”

  The horses set off while Quinn answered, appearing to consider his words well. “I don’t know.

  That would be logical. But then again, I thought they’d come directly to London and enlist the help of the Bow Street Runners. Badham has not yet come to town, so we’re still several steps ahead of him.”

  “In what way?”

  He smiled at Kate. Although concerned about her future, she could not help but be cheered.

  “We have applied to the House of Lords for help and he has not. We have hired the Bow Street Runners and he has not.” Quinn, slowing his pair, bowed to a passer-by.

  “We have?”

  “Yes, Lady Kate. Don’t refine upon the matter, I beg of you. Everything that could possibly be done for your safety has taken place.” Quinn guided the curricle past a stylish coach complete with postilions uniformed in pale blue and cream, apparently to match the equipage before which they rode. An elderly lady, in an old-fashioned, powdered wig, waved her fan from the carriage at Quinn, who bowed in response as the woman stared at Kate.

  Kate lowered her eyelids demurely while restraining a giggle. The lady apparently set great stock in complementary colors, since she was bedecked in cream and blue like her coach. She looked as though she were about to fly away on a cloud. The manes and tails of her creamy-hued horses, braided with blue ribbons, seemed absurd and affected to country-bred Kate. She sighed inwardly.

  Would there ever come a time when she would feel comfortable in the whirling throngs of London?

  Quinn, having reached the Serpentine, slowed the horses to a stop. He handed the reins to his tiger.

  Alighting, he reached for Kate. “Come, let us walk.” She allowed him to assist her from the curricle, but lost her balance on the small step and fell straight into his arms.

  Quick as a flash, he clasped her about the waist.

  Her feet dangled above the ground, but she’d never felt so safe…or so threatened. Quinn’s scent, spicy and compelling, enveloped her. He held her so closely that she feared her ribs might not survive the experience intact.

  “Kate,” he said, looking down into her face. He sounded curiously breathless.

  She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the heat in his chocolate brown eyes. Loosening his grip, he let her body slide down his. From top to toe, Kate tingled with heat and desire. She grasped his shoulders. She didn’t want to let him go.

  A shout from Quinn’s tiger tore them apart. She stumbled back, away from Quinn, regaining her balance as he steadied her. Looking about, she realized that the intimate moment had gone unnoticed by the fashionables parading through the park; no one seemed to be watching. Even Quinn’s tiger was busy with the horses. Good. She had no desire to be labeled “fast” months before she planned to make her debut.

  “My dear Kate. Are you feeling quite all right?” Quinn’s voice had again returned to the bantering drawl he customarily affected.

  “I think not, my lord. I am touched by a strange dizziness.”

  “P’raps the fresh air will help.” He offered her his arm.

  She took it at the elbow, feeling like a fool. How did he have such an effect upon her usually calm state of mind? This must stop, she told herself. She took a deep breath. A close call, that. What would she have done if he’d tried to kiss her?

  As they walked, she became thunderstruck by the realization that she wouldn’t have minded at all.

  Looking at Quinn’s mobile mouth, she wondered what he would have done if she’d kissed him.

  Kate distracted herself by examining the park.

  Although spring had come early this year, Hyde Park’s flower borders had not yet come into their own. The odd daisy and crocus flowered underfoot, and she stepped around them. She had already seen that natural beauty rarely showed its face in London.

  Another fashionable equipage, this time a landaulet, pulled up alongside Kate and Quinn. Its red-haired occupant leaned out to blatantly scrutinize Kate, who stiffened . I will never become accustomed to town manners. Kate thought the woman rude, but both the redhead and Quinn behaved as though nothing were amiss.

  “Devere.” The woman inclined her head and extended a hand, as majestic as a queen.

  She cut Kate. Quinn raised a brow.

  “Good afternoon, Lady Bertha,” he said politely.

  “May I introduce to you my, er, cousin, Kay Tyndale, lately come to visit us from India?” He sketched a bow at the woman’s outstretched hand without releasing his hold on Kate. “Kay, this is Bertha, Lady Staveley.”

  “Lady Bertha,” Kate said, loosening her grip on Quinn’s arm. She had not realized that she clutched him tightly, a most improper action.

  Quinn failed to take the hint, and Kate was powerless to free herself. She would not engage in a tussle.

  “A pleasure, Miss Tyndale,” said the lady. “Do come call upon me while you are in T
own. Devere knows the direction, of course.” She cast a languishing glance upon Quinn.

  Kate glanced at her guardian. Quinn’s cheeks had flushed. She bit the inside of her mouth to keep from chuckling at his embarrassment.

  “Good day, Lady Bertha.” Quinn stepped away from the landaulet. The carriage drove away, but not before its occupant winked at Quinn.

  “Perhaps it would be best if we returned to Bruton Street,” Quinn said.

  “As you wish, cousin Quinn.” Kate, though jealous, was determined not to show that ugly emotion. She winked at Quinn.

  “Stop it, Kate.” He handed her back up into the curricle.

  She laughed.

  “Wretched child.” Climbing in after her, he took the reins.

  “I am sorry, my lord. I realize that my presence was, um, a bit de trop.” Kate fluttered her eyelashes at him, imitating Lady Bertha, though inwardly hurt because he called her a child. Nothing had changed between them. She must have been mad to imagine that he’d nearly kissed her.

  “You are not de trop. Lady Bertha delights in shocking others. Please do not emulate her by winking at unattached males, or in any other manner.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Kate’s heart felt bruised. She had thought that playing the coquette would bring her into her guardian’s good graces. She knew not what to do to make it easy between them again.

  “Oh, the devil!” Quinn stopped the curricle and looped the reins, turning to take both of her hands in both of his. “Kate.”

  She avoided his gaze. “Yes, my lord?”

  “Look at me, my ward.”

  She looked.

  His mouth set into a firm, uncompromising line.

  “You need not change for me or anyone, do you understand?”

  She blinked, utterly confused. “I believe so, my lord.”

  “Very well, then.” He released his hold on her hands.

  Kate spent the rest of the drive wondering what on earth had happened between them. Quinn blew hot and cold by turns. And Shakespeare thought women were flighty and frail, Kate thought. Old Billy had it all wrong. Men were the inconstant, flighty gender.

  * * *

  Quinn had a fit of the dismals, an increasingly frequent occurrence since he’d met Kate Scoville. He glanced over at her as he reined his horses in at the Bruton Street house. The brim of that blasted hat concealed her expression.

  Running into Bertha Staveley had been a piece of bad luck. He’d shared Staveley’s bed on a couple of occasions, and the lively young widow made it clear that she’d welcome him back. But since he’d met Kate, he’d lost interest, without making any effort to smooth the fiery redhead’s ruffled temper. He supposed he’d best call upon Lady Bertha. Yes, that was the ticket. Or p’raps he’d send ’round some flowers.

  And why had he taken Kate to Hyde Park at five in the afternoon? What had he been thinking? Nan had been right. They’d drawn more attention than a Bedlamite at Almack’s.

  Damn and blast. He’d taken Kate for a drive because he’d wanted to share her company, and for no other reason. He’d wanted to court her, like any other man…like any man other than her guardian.

  He ground his teeth. It couldn’t happen again.

  Chapter Five

  The next day was marked by a visit to Anna’s fashionable modiste, Madame Mirielle. Louisa was measured for court-dress as well as for any number of ball gowns and evening dresses. Kate ordered two gowns in the lightest silk georgette for her few evening excursions, as well as day dresses in a more fashionable cut than her purchases made in Sevenoaks. She did not know for what precise events she would wear the frothy creations, gathered under the breasts and festooned with lace flounces and velvet trim, but Anna assured Kate she would rarely be at home alone.

  The first several evenings were spent with the entire family writing and addressing hundreds of invitations to the formal ball which would present Louisa to Polite Society. Kate threw herself into the preparations with vigor, finding her training from Miss Elizabeth’s School most useful.

  But Pauline grumbled and groused. “The Honorable Louisa Anna Michaela Penrose! Lou, why do you have to have so many names?” She stretched her fingers.

  “You have as many names as I do,” Louisa said.

  “You’re the Honorable Paulina Tyndale Devere Penrose. What a mouthful!”

  “This isn’t fair,” whined Pauline. “Cousin Kay and I shouldn’t have to help Louisa with her come-out. She won’t be around to help with ours.”

  “Why, where am I going?” Louisa appeared genuinely astonished.

  “Hopefully, daughter, you will be married and in your husband’s home, having his babies when your sister is presented,” said her father.

  “Gracious! You make it sound as though I’m to be transported. Any husband I have will be a part of this family, just as I will be a part of his. I’m not going anywhere, Pauline.” Louisa poked her sister’s shoulder with the stem of her pen. “Besides, I thought you did not care for the thought of a Season and marriage.”

  Kate saw Pauline wince as her parents raised their eyebrows simultaneously.

  “Whatever could you be thinking, Pauline?” inquired her mother. “Pauline?”

  Pauline laid down her pen. “It simply sounds so fearfully inevitable. I feel like Penelope waiting for Odysseus. Except I don’t know who Odysseus is.”

  “That’s the excitement,” said Louisa. She glanced at Kate. “For myself, I can scarce wait until I fall in love.”

  Kate flushed. She had an odd feeling Louisa saw more than was discussed. “Just make sure you don’t fall for the wrong person.”

  “I don’t see how that can happen,” Louisa said.

  She winked slyly at her father. “I know my parents take very great care that I never meet ‘wrong persons.’“

  “That is no exaggeration,” said Pen. “I prefer that you do not even speak to the stable boys, advice I wish Pauline would take.”

  Pauline grinned. “You know I have an interest in languages. How else would I learn cant, if I did not talk to coachmen and stable boys?”

  Anna shuddered. “Please do not talk cant in London. That is the most sure way to obtain a reputation as fast.”

  “I want to be a prime article. Why not begin practicing now?”

  Her parents sighed, and Kate divined their thoughts with ease. Pauline would have to be carefully watched while in close proximity to the manifold perils of the city.

  The butler opened the door of the library and announced the advent of the Earl of Devere.

  Excitement fluttered in Kate’s stomach like a butterfly escaping from its chrysalis. She hadn’t seen Quinn since that ill-fated drive in the park. Drat the man, she’d even had trouble keeping him out of her dreams.

  Dressed casually for the visit, her guardian wore a fitted coat of fawn worsted over trousers of cream pinstriped twill. His Hobys gleamed in the mellow candlelight.

  “Uncle Devere!” Pauline squealed. Kate watched as Pauline seized upon her uncle as a diversion from the undesirable occupation, leaping up from her place at the large library table. Pauline hugged Quinn around the waist.

  Kate said a shy “hello” and went back to her labors, observing him covertly.

  Anna rose. “Quinn,” she said, and gave him her hand to kiss. After he bent over her hand, she added,

  “Pauline, that’s enough. Get back to work.” Pauline swung Quinn’s hand back and forth.

  “Not with Uncle here,” she said cleverly. “That would be rude.”

  Her mother glared at her. Kate suppressed a smile.

  “Shall I ring for tea, Mother?” Pauline asked.

  “Oh, no no no no. No need to make a pother,” said Quinn, waving his free hand in the air.

  Letting him go, Pauline yanked the bell pull. “It’s not a bother, really, Uncle Devere. We were just going to have tea. We need a bit of extra nourishment, since we’ve been working so.”

  “And what is this?” Quinn advanced to the library tabl
e, and lifted his lorgnon to view the scattered sheets. “A ball for the Honorable Louisa Anna Michaela Penrose! And all these hundreds of invitations to be written out in one’s finest hand. Oh, how well do I remember.” He cocked his head toward his niece. “And you, dear Pauline, are not submitting to torture with good grace.”

  “No, I’m not,” said Pauline. “I’m dreadfully bored.”

  “Well, it may be that there is a special treat in store for a good little girl who helps her sister prepare for her season,” said Quinn. “And perhaps for her cousin, too,” he added, smiling at Kate.

  His smile both warmed her and tied her tongue into knots. How on earth did he manage that trick?

  Pauline didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

  “Why, whatever do you mean, Uncle?”

  “Astley’s,” he said.

  “Astley’s!” All three girls screamed at once.

  “Astley’s Amphitheatre. The evening after these invitations are completed and sent out, we shall all go to the circus. With your permission.” Quinn bowed in the direction of his sister and her husband.

  A footman entered with the tea tray as Pauline dashed back to her place at the table. “Jenks! What are you doing here!” she snapped at him. “We don’t want your catlap! Can’t you see we’re busy?”

  * * *

  “Look at that woman.” Kate nudged Quinn with an elbow and pointed with her fan to the other side of the sawdust ring. During the interval between acts at Astley’s, the family amused themselves by watching the passing throngs and commenting upon their appearance and manner of dress. “Her hat looks exactly like the cockade on the dancing horse.” Quinn pretended he needed a better angle to see the woman, creating an opportunity to edge closer to Kate. He liked her subtle lilac scent. “You’re right.

  Those feathers are the same appalling shade of puce.” He raised his lorgnon to get a better look. “All of London comes to Astley’s, cousin Kay. You may expect to see many wonderful sights, but not all of them are part of the circus.”

  Laughing, Kate leaned past Quinn to address Louisa. “Don’t stare, but you’re the focus of some very intent male attention.”