by Lavinia Kent
Tonight was the night. She’d been invited to seduce her husband—and to have him teach her all she wanted to know.
Her toes curled within her shoes. She was thrilled.
She was terrified.
Could she really do it?
“Well, are you going to go in?” Linnette walked up behind her. “It is a beautiful house and the gardens are spectacular for this time of year, but I am not sure it’s worthy of such intense scrutiny.”
“Do you think the marchioness planned the gardens? I don’t remember ever admiring them before. What are those wonderful fuchsia flowers in the planters at the corner? They do look like a woman must be responsible.”
“So have we moved from idle chatter about fashion to flowers?” Linnette slipped an arm through Kathryn’s and started to lead her toward the door. “I’ve never heard you chatter in such a manner.”
Kathryn slowed to a crawl. “I am going to do it tonight.”
“Do it?” Linnette hesitated, then swung and faced her. “Do you mean do it as in the ‘it’ it?”
“I mean it as in seduce my husband. I am going to be a seductress.” Just saying the words gave her hope and joy. Could you dance on a stranger’s walkway?
“I am glad.” Linnette squeezed her hand. “I have always wanted you to be happy, Kathryn. Whatever else, do believe that.”
“Of course.” Why would Linnette even feel the need to say such a thing? They would be friends forever.
“We should go in.”
“Yes.” Kathryn stepped towards the door. The sooner this was done with, the sooner she could be home—with Robert. She could only hope that his mother would be out late at the musical evening she planned to attend.
The door swung open as they approached, a liveried footman waiting. “Lady Tattingstong is waiting in the back garden.” The footman led the way through the house.
The back garden? That was odd, but perhaps it was an American custom. Surely it was more appropriate to receive guests for the first time in the parlor or a sitting room?
Still, as the glass conservatory doors swung open, Kathryn had to admit it was lovely. The day could not have been more lovely and the marchioness clearly had a way with flowers. The small walled enclosure was a veritable rainbow of blooms.
The marchioness stood as they entered, a wide smile spreading naturally across her face. “I am so pleased you could make it. I know that this second print is probably of no more importance than the first, but it seems so strange that it is so like our first meeting. I know that I am not in it, but still I find it disconcerting. I felt it was necessary for us to meet and discuss it. It could almost have been drawn from life.”
Kathryn stepped forward, finding that her own smile matched the marchioness’s. “First, let me say, Lady Tattingstong, that your gardens are delightful. You will have to tell me your secret. But, yes, it is odd. I think that even our sitting positions were correct. I must assure you that I did question my staff and they all deny any knowledge—and we have nobody of recent employment in the house. Well, there is my personal maid, but she would have no more knowledge of how we were seated than a stranger on the street.”
“Please make yourself comfortable.” Lady Tattingstong gestured to a delicate cast-iron table and chairs. “I’ve sent for lemonade, but can have tea brought if you prefer. I thought the day just called for lemonade.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Linnette answered and Kathryn nodded her agreement.
They took their seats as the marchioness’s sister, Miss Beacon wandered out and, after a quick greeting, took a chair slightly removed from the others, her soft gold hair glinted in the sunlight and Kathryn was caught by how young and fresh she appeared. Kathryn could not remember ever feeling that young.
“Am I late?” Annie came rushing into the garden, her face flushed. “I do apologize.” She turned to the marchioness and made all the proper greetings. After a moment, she came and sat between Kathryn and Linnette. “I’ve just dined with Lord Richard. We actually spoke. I think more might have been said if Hargrove hadn’t arrived. He has agreed I can stay in Town.” She spoke very quietly, almost a whisper. Clearly she did not wish her voice to carry to the Americans.
“I am pleased for you,” Kathryn replied equally softly, her toes almost tapping as she considered how wonderful it could be to reconcile with one’s husband—not that she and Robert had ever actually argued.
Linnette brushed an imagined wrinkle from her skirt, and spoke up so that their hostess could hear. “I must say you do look delightful, Lady Richard. Is that a new brooch? I’ve never seen that combination of turquoise and topaz. The topaz almost matches your eyes. Did your husband give it to you?”
“No, his brother the Duke of Hargrove.” Annie nodded at Lady Tattingstong. “Hargrove always sends me a gift on my son’s birthday. I think he is pleased that he does not need to worry about an heir.” She turned back to Linnette. “And let me say that shade of fern green is incredible. It shows off your hair most becomingly.”
“You mean it doesn’t make me look like I’ve begun to rust on top?”
“Oh, stop it, Linnette. You know very well that your hair is beautiful. I don’t know why you persist in the self-deprecation.” Annie studied Kathryn. “And you look beyond compare. I know I’ve seen that dress before, that robin’s egg blue is unmistakable, but there is something about you.” She allowed her gaze to sweep Kathryn from her toes to the crown of her head. “Your pearls do add a glow to your skin—I think I would wear them every day if they were mine, but that is not it. Oh, I don’t know what it is, you look exactly the same and yet different.”
Kathryn peeked at Linnette and couldn’t suppress a small grin. She knew exactly what the difference was—she felt hope. She was going to be a seductress. Even the word caused a small tingle to begin in her belly.
“And Lady Tattingstong, let me commend you on that shade of crimson. I would never have considered it a daytime color, but on you it is perfection. Oh dear, I did not mean that to sound sarcastic. Did it? I truly think you look lovely. I was not trying to cast any aspersions upon your taste. I truly do admire your brave choice. I am only making it worse, aren’t I? I never do well when I ramble.” Annie clamped her lips shut.
Linnette leaned forward, toward Lady Tattingstong. “Perhaps I should explain. It is a kind of game that we play, discussing fashion. As it must be done—and we do enjoy it—we try to get it over with all in a rush at the start.”
“Oh.” Lady Tattingstong did not look convinced.
“It is true,” Kathryn added her voice to the discussion. “It began the first season that I came out. Everywhere we went the only thing the other girls discussed was bonnets and slippers.”
“That’s not quite true—they did discuss men,” Linnette added.
“You would mention men,” Annie said, and then closed her lips again.
“I do know you didn’t mean that the way it sounded, Annie,” Linnette spoke up.
Lady Tattingstong was looking quite confused. “I did not realize you had been friends so long.”
“Perhaps you can join us in our game,” Kathryn said. “Annie is correct, you do have wonderful fashion sense—or perhaps it is your sense of colors. You’re garden does show the same flair.”
“Play your game with you?” Lady Tattingstong considered for a moment. “I think I would like that very much, but only if you call me Annabelle. I cannot help but see that you often use Christian names, and it would make me feel quite included if you would do the same.”
“Of course,” Annie spoke up, clearly eager to cover any worry that her words had been taken wrong.
“And you must call me Lucille, Lady Ric—” Annabelle’s sister said. Kathryn had almost forgotten her existence.
They really should talk about the print so that she could get home. Kathryn wasn’t exactly sure what preparations were necessary for seduction, but she would dearly love another bath to soothe her nerves. She opened her mouth
to reintroduce the subject, when Elizabeth came hurrying in.
“How could you?” Elizabeth walked right up to Linnette and began waving a sheet of paper in her face. “I know you are never happy unless every man in the room is after you, but this is a step too far. What you did to me was bad enough. This—this—this is unthinkable.”
Kathryn could only stare. She’d never seen Elizabeth in such high color. With her straight frame and high cheekbones she’d always looked like a warrior queen, but now she looked ready to cut down a nation singlehandedly.
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Linnette kept her voice calm. “We’ve all seen the print already, as you well know. It is what we are here to discuss.”
“I don’t believe you’ve seen this print.” Elizabeth waved the paper again. “I saw them pasting it in the window when I was on my way here. I cannot believe you’ve done this, that you think you’ll get away with it.”
Annie, the peacemaker as always, tried to calm the situation. “Really, Elizabeth, why don’t you have a seat and a nice glass of lemonade? I am sure that you could use something cold. You look like you’ve run all the way here.”
“Yes, why don’t you have a drink and then you can tell us what has you so bothered. Does it help us figure out who is behind this?” Kathryn added, hoping this would not delay her getting home—and that it would not irritate Linnette too much. Kathryn owed her for the advice she had given and would do what was needed to help the situation.
“Yes, Elizabeth, why don’t you show me this print that has you so upset? I know we have had our differences recently, but surely we do not need to air them here.” Linnette glanced at Annabelle and her sister.
“I am sure you would say that. I still cannot believe you think you can keep this a secret.” Elizabeth waved the paper in the air one more time and then thrust it on the table in front of Linnette. “Here.”
Linnette glanced at it and lost all color in the blink of an eye. She grabbed at the print, pulling it towards her, her gaze glued to it. “It’s not true.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.
“Of course, you would say that.” Elizabeth reached for the print again, but Linnette held it firmly.
“You can’t show it to them. It’s not true. I don’t know why somebody would do this, but it’s not true.”
“I know you slept with him in the past—why not now? I cannot believe even you would betray her like this.”
“Why don’t you show us this print?” It was Lucille, Annabelle’s sister, who spoke up. She stood and walked to Elizabeth. “The other print was just put up this morning. I can’t believe there’s another one so soon. There shouldn’t be one for several more days.”
“Here, take a look. There’s no hiding it now. Even if this is the first copy, it will be all about London within days,” Elizabeth said, grabbing the print from Linnette and thrusting it at Lucille.
Taking the print, it was Lucille’s turn to pale. “This can’t be right. Who ever would have done this? It can’t be the same artist. Look, it’s not nearly as finely drawn. How can this have happened?” She looked up at Linnette with troubled eyes. “And who is the man? I know I’ve seen him before, but I can’t remember where. This is just awful.”
Annabelle came and stared over her sister’s shoulder. “Oh—oh.” Her gaze went to Kathryn instead of Linnette. “Why don’t we just rip it apart? I don’t think we need to waste time on this now, not now.” Her tone was almost beseeching.
Elizabeth stood firm. “No, I think we need to deal with it now. Putting it off will not help any of us.”
“But, it’s not true. It’s just not true.” Linnette repeated it like a refrain. Kathryn was almost afraid she was going to faint.
She rose and went to stand beside her friend. “Do you want me to take you home? You are looking quite ill.” Curiosity was eating at her to see the print, but friendship came first. Nasty things had been said about Linnette in the past—although only quietly. Her friend was too beautiful and too rich not to inspire jealousy.
Linnette looked at her with sudden hope. “Yes, why don’t we—”
“Oh dear. Oh dear.” Annie’s voice added to the cacophony. Was everybody determined to repeat their words?
“Don’t you think she needs to know?” Elizabeth spoke over the others, although whom her question was directed at was unclear.
Linnette stood, her back straight, her face made of stone. “Show it to her,” she spat the words as she turned to face Elizabeth. “You are correct that it cannot be hidden—regardless that it is a lie. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that you are behind it. You certainly seem to take joy it. Do you know how it will hurt her—and needlessly?”
Elizabeth turned, her eyes on Kathryn, and for the first time she looked uncertain. “No, I take no joy it. And I certainly had nothing to do with it beyond seeing it in the window. You should have told her years ago.”
“There is nothing to tell,” Linnette answered.
“But, there was. Do you think she will feel that it is nothing?” Elizabeth would not let it go.
“What is going on? Show me the darn thing so that I can understand. I feel like I am playing blindman’s bluff all by myself.” Kathryn stepped away from Linnette, and toward Lucille who still held the print, Annie and Annabelle looking over her shoulder.
Lucille moved to hand her the piece of paper, but Annie reached out and took it. “I’ll show it to her. One of us has to.”
The four other women stood straight and still as Annie walked toward Kathryn, the print clutched in her hand, her fingers wrinkling the paper. Linnette looked like she wanted to cry.
Annie paused just in front of her—hesitated—then held it out. She also looked like she wanted to cry—or run away as far and fast as she could. “Here.” Her voice held a note of bravery as she handed the print to Kathryn.
And then Kathryn’s world ended.
The first glance was awful, but not for her. It showed a woman, clearly Linnette, with a hugely pregnant belly. Kathryn glanced at her friend, her eyes filled with sympathy. Linnette with child? But who was the father? Would he marry her?
And then Kathryn’s eyes fell back on the paper clutched in her hand, looked behind Linnette and her belly, to the man who stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders, his dark eyes full of lust, his tall frame diminished in the drawing—but still distinctly recognizable. For a moment she could only stare, her heart full of disbelief.
She lifted her head and stared at the stony line of her friends.
She met Lucille’s glance.
“The man,” Kathryn said, as all her hopes died, “is the Duke of Harrington. He is my husband.”
Chapter Nine
“Then that’s what it means—the print’s caption, She may be a real duchess, but who’s her real duke?” Lucille whispered the words as if to herself.
Robert and Linnette? Kathryn ignored all else and took a step nearer to her friend. “Is it true? Did you sleep with—have intimate relations with my husband?” An even more horrible thought took her. Robert and Linnette had known each other since childhood. “Is he the man you were talking about, your first love who you’ve found again? How could you do this? How could you do this to me?”
“It’s not true. You heard me before. It is not true.” Linnette held her shoulders back, her eyes met Kathryn’s but there was a quiver to her lips that could not be mistaken.
“Why don’t you tell her all of it?” Elizabeth asked, coldly. “She needs to know if she is going to get through the next days. Tell her about your affair with Harrington.”
“So you are having an affair with my husband? I cannot believe what I confided in you. How you must have laughed.” Kathryn’s belly burned with bile.
“No—well, yes. But, not the way this makes it look. That she,” Linnette turned and glared at Elizabeth, “makes it sound. I did have an affair with Robert, with Harrington, but it was years ago. It was before you even met him, much less marr
ied him. He is a friend and business acquaintance now, nothing more.”
“You slept with my husband—how could you?” Kathryn wanted to scream. “And you never told me. Why didn’t you tell me? You introduced me to the man—and you never told me! How can you call yourself my friend and keep a secret like that?”
“How was I supposed to tell you? You leave the room whenever sex is even joked about. There was never a time that was right to tell you.”
“I need to get out of here. I feel ill.” Kathryn turned and raced toward the door. “I can’t believe you kept this from me. I trusted you. I told you everything—more than everything. No wonder you knew what Robert liked—still likes, if this is accurate.” She turned, crumpled the print into a ball, and threw it at Linnette.
Annie rushed after her, and Kathryn forced herself to stop and be calm. “Please let me go. I will be all right. I just need some time alone. How could Linnette have an affair with Robert?”
“It was years ago, everybody knows that. I would have told you if there was anything recent,” Annie pleaded.
“Everybody knows. Everybody knows my dear friend and my husband were—are lovers and nobody told me, not even you, Annie?”
“It’s were. I am sure it’s were.” Annie did not sound completely confidant. “Linnette would never do that to you. I would never have let her do that to you.”
Kathryn pulled in the deepest breath that she could. “I really need to leave now. At this moment I am not sure that I can forgive any of you—except perhaps Annabelle and Lucille. They seem innocent by lack of opportunity, if nothing else. The rest of you can go to—.” She could not make herself say it even though all her body sang with fury and betrayal.
“You don’t mean that.” Annie sounded like she might cry.
It only made Kathryn angrier. She was the victim. She didn’t want to be made to feel guilty, to feel defensive. She refused to feel any fault. “I am walking home. Please advise my coachman for me.”
