She rolled over and buried her head in her pillows, willing herself back to sleep, back to dreamless oblivion where she did not wish for impossible things. Instead, with her eyes closed, all she saw was Sean’s face—smiling, serious, angry, and, most of all, twisted in the grip of desire as he moved inside her, kissed her, held her, murmured soothing words against her ear.
At last, she rose, acknowledging that the truth would be no different if she slept for a fortnight without waking once. She wanted him, she had wanted him from the first time he had teased her that they were already engaged. All the tests she had put him through had been designed to protect her future, but her heart had already been given over to him.
This had been one last test. She had believed, without acknowledging it, that once he had come to her bed he would not be able to turn his back on her again. But he had done it with ease. Not because he didn’t desire her. After last night she had little doubt of that. But because he didn’t love her.
And still, he had been kind and gentle with her. He had not lied to her. No matter that he had desired her, he had not taken advantage.
She would have to tell Sarah to pack their bags, ask Douglas to prepare the carriage. But first she would have to apologize to Sean. He had been right—she should never have insisted that he perform the duties of husband to a wife he did not want.
And she would also have to thank him. He had no doubt been as kind as possible—offering her the opportunity to change her mind by allowing her to control their coupling. She could not—would not—call it lovemaking.
Unsure if it was her own sense of the changes that the night had wrought in her, or unspoken compassion, she noted the servants treated her more gently than usual. When she asked for Sean, she was told he was in the greenhouses with Paddy, the gardener.
She did not know if she would speak to him there, but she went, anyway, needing to walk, to avoid the quiet whispers and worried glances she imagined the servants were directing at her.
The greenhouses were small rackety affairs, like the rest of the buildings on the abbey grounds. But the smell of earth and growing things was the same as in the greenhouses she had practically lived in at home. She took in a deep breath and wondered why she had let the shambling outside of the building keep her from stepping inside, where she felt instantly at home.
“What is the problem?” Sean’s voice was a troubled rumble that carried clearly to her ears in the small building. For a moment she thought he was speaking to her, and then she saw that he had not yet noticed she had entered the building. His attention was all for the gardener.
After a brief urge to turn around and leave before he caught sight of her, she decided that pretending nothing was amiss would be easier with a third person, so she chose to approach him as he bent over a sheaf of papers with the gardener.
She slowed her step, listening to the discussion, unsure whether to interrupt or come back in a few minutes. The sight of him, fully dressed, still caused her insides to tighten. She allowed herself to examine him. He gestured as he spoke to Paddy, his arm sweeping through the air to encompass the entire greenhouse and all within it. The movement was so passionate and his face so full of dreams and hope that she almost expected the greenhouse to magically transform itself as he wished.
Every time she thought she’d dealt with last night, a surprising new reaction reminded her of what had passed between them. She wondered if it would be the same for him and stopped a moment, suddenly unsure she wanted to know. She was, however, utterly certain her feelings had not changed toward him. She loved the man still.
She wondered why she loved him. She knew well enough why she’d fallen in love with him. He was handsome, charming, passionate, and he made her laugh. There had not been another man like him in all of London. She had been young enough to believe in true love.
But after five years, she knew better than to trust charm and beauty—or love itself. His sense of humor had rescued her last night—perhaps it had rescued both of them. He had reminded her of the young man who had wooed and won her. But since then he had become a solemn man, with anger bubbling just below the surface. She could see it now as Paddy shook his head, and Sean glared down at the papers as if they had betrayed him somehow.
She had wondered which was the true Sean, but now she thought she understood that both were. The famine and hardship in his country had changed him, as it would change anyone. How would it have changed her, if she’d come to join him? If he’d asked her to?
“I’ve done as your notes said, but they just aren’t growing.” Paddy waved his hand to indicate a neat row of pots with straggling plants, most just barely an inch above the soil.
“What is the soil mix.”
Paddy jabbed a finger toward the middle of the top paper. “Just as it says here—a third of each, with plenty of watering.”
Sean squinted and shook his head with an exhalation of frustration. “Then why are we not getting the results that we should? These plants should be a foot high by now, easily.”
Paddy seemed as frustrated as Sean. “There must be a mistake in there—maybe they gave you the wrong information since they knew you’d be taking it back to Ireland with you?”
Kate approached quietly, unseen by either man and looked at the diagrams Sean had drawn for Paddy, who, like most of the servants she had met here, could not read the notebook of closely written pages Sean had brought home from London with him.
She suspected there was an error there, but she wouldn’t dare to say so to either of them. Whenever she had found her results diverging from the expected, she usually discovered a transposition error, or a misrecorded direction.
Finding such a mistake, however, often proved an arduous task, involving research in the texts on the subject, and conversations with others who worked with roses as she did. Paddy was obviously unable to read the texts, and cloistered here as he was, no doubt had no one to talk to but Sean.
As she listened to their worried conversation, she couldn’t suppress her urge to help. She dared to offer an idea to the men, who still hadn’t noticed her. “The solution is simple enough--send Paddy to London to train with Nautlick himself.”
“Kate.” Sean turned to her, his eyebrow lifted slightly in question. To her relief, he made no reference to last night, but only to her suggestion. “London?”
“I’ve had my hands in the soil since I was old enough to walk, my lady. I don’t need training.”
She hadn’t meant to offend him with the term. Kate said quickly, “I simply thought if you saw different methods demonstrated, you’d have a clearer notion of which you wanted to try here.”
Sean didn’t like the idea any better than Paddy, but he did not say so directly. “Perhaps you have a good idea, Kate. We’ll have to consider it.”
“I’ll not go on enemy soil,” Paddy said, stubbornly.
Kate repressed a sigh. “Have you anything against growing a good crop?”
Paddy’s dirt encrusted thumb stabbed at the papers laid out before him. “These ideas don’t work.”
Inspired by the suggestion Paddy had made to Sean before he knew she was there, she said quickly, “I think they might have changed a thing or two--don’t you see? That’s why you must go--to spy out the true way to make your crops successful.”
“Me? A spy?” The idea appealed to him. He grinned and nodded. “To find out what they don’t want me to know?”
“Exactly.” Kate encouraged him. Sean had said nothing during the exchange, simply watched her as if he wondered if she was going to burst into tears or take out a pistol and shoot him through the heart. Was he considering her suggestion, or the events of last night?
Unaware of the current passing between Kate and Sean, Paddy said, “I guess I could do that. Seeing as how I want to do my best.” The man pondered the point for a moment more and nodded his head. “I’d make a good spy.”
“You would, at that.” Sean seemed to break whatever spell had held his gaze on
Kate and turned to look at his eager gardener for a moment, before he added, “Thank you for the suggestion, Kate.”
He took her arm and prodded her gently toward the door of the greenhouse. “Now that we have that settled, we’ll leave you to your work, then, Paddy.”
As they left the greenhouse, he said softly, “Thank you for your help.” His hand slid to her elbow. “What brought you to the greenhouses? I wouldn’t have thought they’d compare to those at home. And we don’t grow roses here. We need food crops.”
She didn’t answer his question. “Paddy seems to be a good steward. The plants are well cared for. Have you considered growing something that you could export?”
His fingers tightened on her elbow in a quick spasm of frustration. “The restrictions on export are steep enough that the profit is too risky to try yet. I hope to be in a position to do so in a year or two.”
She was relieved that he had realized he could not continue on as he had been forever. “Will you give up your nefarious activities then?” All in favor, she wondered if there was a way she could help.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sean saw the eager desire to help spring into her eyes. But he was certain that was not why she had come in search of him. “Did you need something from me Kate? I thought for certain you’d not want anything more—at least not until tonight. I thought I acquitted myself quite well last night, after all. You have no evidence at all to prevent the divorce now.”
She didn’t retreat, despite his reminder. “You have the patience of a saint, it cannot be denied.” As if she carried the same vivid memories he did, she blushed. “You needn’t bait me, my lord. I have not come to lure you to my bed in the middle of the day.”
“Good,” he lied. The thought of taking her to bed was very tempting indeed. “Because after last night I decided that I have terms as well, if you expect me to meet yours in the future.”
“Terms?” She glanced at him with only mild curiosity. What was she plotting now?
He touched her cheek with a soft brush of his hand and she turned her face into his palm and inhaled, no doubt the scent of the earth from the greenhouses he had buried his fingers in earlier while he spoke with Paddy.
He fought the urge to lean down and kiss her. “If you want me in your bed ever again, Katie, you’ll have to take off your clothes. All of them.”
She glanced up at him, and he was pleased to see true shock in her expression. Abruptly, she turned away from him and began to walk toward the abbey. He followed, matching her stride easily.
They had walked almost halfway back to the abbey before he spoke again. “Did you sleep well in my bed?” He wanted to judge whether he’d be in his own bed tonight. The lumpy mattress he’d bedded down on after leaving her last night had left much to be desired and he’d rather not resort to it tonight, unless he must.
“Very well.” She was lying, judging by the dark smudges of sleeplessness under her eyes, but he let it pass until he glanced at her and saw the tears shining unshed in her eyes.
As he spoke, so did she. “I’m sorry.”
She laughed nervously. “What have you to be sorry for?”
He stopped, and swung her toward him. For a moment he said nothing, worried that she would misinterpret kindness as some other emotion. “Kate—“
She grasped his forearms and squeezed to silence him, as she interrupted. “You were right, I shouldn’t have insisted.”
Surprised, he paused a moment and then said, “Still, I’m sorry. I knew it was not wise.” Not wise at all. He closed his eyes remember the feel of her. He didn’t know if he could bear it again. He didn’t know if he could bear it if he managed to send her away, as he wished.
“Perhaps it was not wise.” She shook her head and met his searching gaze squarely. “But I would never have believed you were right if—“ She broke off a moment and then laughed softly. “It isn’t as though you in any way forced me.” She released her grip on his arms. “Anything but, Sean. I must thank you for that.”
“Still—“ He frowned down at her, puzzled by the change in her attitude. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was hatching a scheme. She had the same mischievous look that she had gotten long ago when she planned some foolery with Betsey. But what could she have in mind? He had, after all, given her what she asked for.
She smiled at him, just as he had the first time he’d teased her that he intended to hold her to her promise to marry him, made when she was a child. “Do you know of another man who would have tried so hard to keep himself out of my bed.” She closed her eyes and her smile dimmed a bit. “I’m fairly certain you did so for my sake, not your own.”
He suppressed the urge to reassure her that, were circumstances different, she’d have had a less reluctant lover last night. She didn’t need to know that. Not, at least, until he knew what plot was hatching in her clever brain. “Does that mean you don’t want my services any longer?”
“Would you object if I had changed my mind?” She didn’t look at him, clearly afraid of the answer. He wished, fleetingly, that she had been slightly less courageous so that she wouldn’t even have asked such a thing.
He took her hands in his and pulled her slowly toward him, until she leaned against him fully, the chilly wind diminished by the shelter of his arms. “I would agree now, if you wish it.” He bent as if to kiss her, but merely whispered into her ear, “Just say the word and I am Sean McCarthy, Lord Blarney, silver tongued stud goat at the beck and call.”
Sean was surprised she didn’t slap him. He could feel the desire to back away vibrate through her and, though he held her loosely, she didn’t move as she said,“Considering your reluctance last night, once a night seems ample.”
He remembered the way she had leaned against the dressing room wall less than twelve hours ago and marveled that this was the same woman. What had happened to bring about this change? “Then you didn’t know what you asked for. Now you do. And once a night no longer seems like enough.”
He hadn’t meant to speak the truth, but he consoled himself that she wouldn’t believe him. He brushed her cheeks with his lips, his breath warm against her cold cheek. “Not to a man starved for the feel of a woman as I have been.”
She laughed, disbelieving, as he had known she would be. “Lord Blarney cannot find a willing woman nearby? Perhaps when we visit the stone, you should kiss it as well. I fear your tongue has lost the gift.”
“Perhaps it has, at that. My words didn’t convince you that what you asked might break your heart, after all.” He watched her, waiting to see the flash of vulnerability he knew was lurking beneath the surface.
“No.” She buried her head against his shoulder for a brief moment. “You have convinced me about the divorce, though.”
He knew he should be pleased. And he would be, as soon as the sharp pain knifing through his chest had gone away. “So perhaps I have not lost all the silver off my tongue, then.”
She lifted her head to look up at him in surprise. He hoped she hadn’t heard the disappointment in his voice. But Kate closed her eyes, “I’m going home. You were right. I won’t make any protest about the divorce.” Not that she could. He decided to be a gentleman and not point that fact out to her.
“That’s sensible of you.” He sighed. “After what you saw, you are best out of here as soon as possible.”
A flash of anger crossed her features. “I know you don’t want to come back to London, but you are a fool to risk everything to break the law. Can you not find a way to see to them without breaking the law?”
“One day I hope to, but I have not reached that time yet.” He shook his head. “You do not know the frustration of knowing there is food stored within a few miles of starving people and it is destined to be shipped away to other countries to feed those willing to line the landlord’s pockets. It isn’t right. And I am determined to do something about it—even if it means I risk hanging.
Hanging. Kate shivered at the idea. “Have you s
poken to the landlords?” The words of apology she had prepared shriveled to a lump in her throat at the thought of leaving him alone to face his battle. She knew it wasn’t wise. She knew it. But still she wanted him. Why could she just not be sensible? Was it because his life was in danger and the foolish man refused to give up risking his neck?
“They are interested in coin and little more. You’d see that for yourself, if you stayed. But I’m glad you’ve decided to go. Though perhaps you’ll want to come back to see me swing if I’m caught.”
Kate didn’t laugh at the horrible joke. It was Paddy’s words that gave her the idea. If Paddy could be a horticultural spy, why couldn’t Kate do a bit of spying on her own to bring peace to the area and convince her husband to give up his Robin Hood ways.
But first, she had to find a way to stay just a bit longer. She could think of only one. “I intend to go as soon as our bargain is met.”
He glanced down at her unhappily. “I meant what I said, Kate. I’ll not meet your terms unless you meet mine.”
She thought of lying in the bed with him tonight without the armor of wool and corset. “That seems fair enough,” she consented with a rush of lightheadedness.
She walked more quickly into the abbey, leaving him to gape at her in consternation. Perhaps she would regret it. Perhaps. But she was certain, either way she would rest easier knowing that he was safe, even if he was no longer her husband.
Her first mission, she decided, would be a visit to the man who had trapped Sean in this unhappy stranglehold. Jeffreys. He was the biggest landlord in the area, surely if she could convince him, he could bring his influence to bear upon the other landlords in the vicinity? In case her efforts proved futile, she decided not to tell Sean what she was about unless she was successful. He had enough on his mind as it was.
She called upon Jeffreys, but he was out. The footman seemed almost reluctant to take her card, but she insisted with an unruffled smile, as any good spy should. She included an invitation to dinner for two days hence, hoping Sean would not mind when he found out what she had done.
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