The Defiant Miss Foster & A Highly Respectable Widow

by Melinda McRae

  That evening, Val waited impatiently in the drawing room for the two ladies to join him before setting out for Lady Arlington’s musicale. He felt the slightest bit of apprehension over tonight’s outing—his ward’s first official foray into society. He’d seen that she could carry herself with aplomb in the park, or at Tattersall’s, but would she be equally at ease in the drawing room?

  He heard voices in the hall and took a deep breath.

  His sister looked marvelous, as usual, garbed in a dress that he knew must be the latest fashion and therefore outrageously expensive. But it was Miss Fos—Kat—who threatened to take his breath away.

  If he had ever doubted her femaleness, all his questions were gone. He was amazed to discover that his ward’s slim, boyish figure was capable of displaying the kind of curves that were set off by her simple pale rose-hued gown. For an instant, he wondered if a bodice cut that low was truly appropriate for an unmarried young lady, but he reasoned Sophie would never agree to anything unsuitable.

  “Well?” Sophie asked. “What do you think?”

  “You both look quite lovely,” he said, “which may be your only saving grace, as once again, you are late. Hurry, we must leave at once.”

  Sophie giggled and turned to Kat. “Even after all this time, Val thinks he is going to change me.”

  “Just see that you do not teach my ward your bad habits,” Val said warningly as he assisted them with their cloaks. “I find her practice of promptness admirable.”

  “Oh, don’t listen to him, Kat,” Sophie said with a wave of her hand. “Men will always wait for a lady, no matter what.”

  Val found he could not take his eyes off Kat Foster dur

  ing the short drive to their destination. Where once he’d worried that she would never attract any male interest, he now feared she might gain far too much of it. She looked far too . . . delectable.

  “Are you nervous?” he asked her as they waited behind two other carriages to disembark.

  “No,” she replied, then gave him an impish look. “Should I be?”

  “I merely thought ... it is your first evening out in London.”

  She laughed. “I think you are the one who is nervous. Afraid I’ll draw my pistol and start shooting the guests?”

  Val snorted. “Not at all.”

  Nevertheless, he intended to keep a close eye on her. She seemed to have an unerring knack for attracting the wrong sort of men.

  Upon reaching Lady Arlington’s, the two ladies quickly abandoned him. He stood at the rear of the drawing room, trying to appear more interested than he felt. He always forgot how much he detested musicales until he found himself at one again. He’d much rather be home. Yet tonight, he had a role to play—escort to his sister and his ward, and his own personal desires were secondary.

  He looked across the room as the two women chatted amiably with their hostess. He’d noticed that more than one appreciative male glance had been cast in their direction already, although he doubted that there were many eligible men here tonight. It was too early in the Season, and not the sort of entertainment designed to attract many bachelors.

  A few trilling notes on the piano announced the commencement of the musical entertainment, and the guests made their way into the adjacent room, where chairs were set up in rows for the listeners. Val lingered behind so he could take a seat near the back. He did not dislike music, but these amateur performances filled him with trepidation. He took his seat, crossed his arms over his chest, and resigned himself to a boring evening.

  Unfortunately, the pianist was every bit as mediocre as he had feared. Val found himself studying the oddly colored birds that cavorted across the wallpaper on the wall beside him, wondering if such creatures really existed in nature or were merely the product of the artist’s imagination.

  His interest in birds exhausted by the time the second singer stepped forward, Val shifted slightly in his seat, noticing that he now had a clear view of Kat and Sophie, seated two rows ahead of him. Kat toyed idly with her fan, looking bored.

  As if sensing his scrutiny, she turned her head and met his gaze. She made a moue of distaste at the high-pitched shrieking of the untalented singer, and Val barely stifled a laugh.

  She’s enjoying this about as much as I am, he realized and flashed her a sympathetic look and winked. She responded with a rueful smile before turning back to the performance.

  Val resolved then and there that this would be the last musicale they attended this Season. There was no reason to put themselves through this sort of torture again when there were far more entertaining social amusements available.

  After what seemed an interminable time, the music stopped, their hostess rose to lead the applause, and the misery was finally at an end.

  During the performance, supper tables had been set up in the large drawing room, and Val escorted Sophie and Kat to a table, then brought them plates heaped with delicacies.

  “I found it a rather refreshing performance,” Sophie said, taking a bite of a lobster patty. She turned to Kat. “Did you like it, Kat?”

  She wrinkled her nose and darted a quick glance at Val before answering. “I find it interesting that ordinary people are brave enough to stand up in front of an audience and perform.”

  The tactful response impressed Val. If she continued to speak in this manner, she would do just fine in society.

  “Val?” Sophie looked at him questioningly.

  “Oh, you know me. I’d rather listen to a stirring march from a military band.”

  “I think I would prefer that as well,” Kat said. “Nick’s regiment must have a band. We should find out when they will be playing.”

  “Oh, look,” Sophie cried, getting out of her chair. “There is Sybilla! I have not seen her in an age.” She dashed off to greet her friend.

  Val looked at Kat. “Did you find the music as excruciatingly painful as I did?”

  She laughed. “It was rather awful, wasn’t it? I’ve been to amateur performances back home, but somehow I expected better in London.”

  “I think we shall endeavor to avoid such evenings in the future,” Val said.

  “Thank you.” She flashed him a relieved smile before spearing a piece of fruit with her fork.

  He watched her eat, amused by her enthusiastic appetite, but the sight of the curving swell of her breasts above that dratted neckline made him uncomfortable. He looked at his sister’s empty chair.

  “At least Sophie is enjoying herself,” Val said.

  “I believe she would enjoy any event as long as there was gossip to exchange,” Kat replied.

  “An astute observation,” Val said. “You have studied my sister well.”

  “Sophie loves society and the attractions of the city.”

  “And what of you? What do you think of London so

  far?”

  She frowned. “It is far too big, with too many people and buildings. I’d much rather be back in the country.”

  Val shared her opinion on the city. But her presence in London was necessary to his plans for her. “You will be back in the country eventually,” he said. “Can I get you more to eat?”

  She cast a rueful glance at her empty plate. “I am not supposed to eat everything, am I?”

  “I do not think anyone will chide you for having a healthy appetite,” Val said.

  “Then I should like another tart. And perhaps a few more slices of ham.” She gave him a questioning glance. “And also one of those little frosted cakes.”

  Val laughed and took her plate. The girl certainly appreciated her food.

  He picked out the items she had requested, plus a few more he thought she might like. As he headed back to the table, he saw Sophie returning, with two guests in tow.

  “Val, you remember Sybilla Parker?” Sophie clutched her friend’s hand. “We were at school together, and she attended my wedding.”

  Val bowed to a petite blonde dressed in more frills and ruffles than even Sophie dared.
/>   Sophie turned to the man beside her. “And this is her brother, Gerald Parker.”

  Val shook hands with a florid-faced man with thinning hair who looked to be in his mid-thirties.

  They moved toward the table where Kat was seated. “This is my brother’s ward, whom I was telling you about,” Sophie said. “Miss Katherine Foster. She shares your interest in country pursuits, Mr. Parker.”

  Val smothered a smile as he set the plate of food in front of Kat. Was Sophie matchmaking?

  “Indeed,” Parker said. “What part of the country do you hail from, Miss Foster?”

  “Gloucestershire.”

  “Good fishing thereabouts?” Parker asked.

  “We have good stock in the stream that runs through the farm,” she replied. “Are you a fisherman?”

  Parker nodded.

  “Do you prefer dry flies or worms?” Kat asked.

  Val glanced at Sophie, who put up a hand to hide her smile.

  “Depends on the fish,” Parker replied. “I’ve had great luck with flies in Scotland, but a good English stream trout seems to go for the worms.”

  “I prefer grubs, myself,” Kat said. “More meat.”

  Sophie made a face. “Enough about wriggly things.” “Exactly,” Sybilla Parker added. She touched her brother on the arm. “Come, it is time to depart.” She gave Val a simpering look. “It was a pleasure to see you again, my lord. And to meet you, Miss Foster.”

  “Ah yes,” Parker said. “I look forward to renewing our acquaintance.”

  “Excellent work.” Val said softly to Sophie when the two had gone.

  “What does he mean?” Miss Foster asked.

  “Gerald Parker has a lovely country home, a nice income—and three young children,” Sophie said.

  “So?”

  “He’s also a widower.”

  “Oh.” Kat sat up straighter. “You think I should marry him, then?”

  “Goodness, I never said any such thing,” Sophie said. “I merely made introductions. It is for you to decide if you care for him.”

  From his ward’s impassive expression, Val could not tell what she thought of that news. Parker was older than he would have liked. But a steadying influence would be good for Kat. He sat back and waited impatiently while the two ladies finished their food. The evening had been a success, but it was only the first of many, long social events to come. He wondered if he would survive them all.

  “Have you ladies eaten your fill and talked long enough?” he asked at last. “We could make our departure.”

  Sophie shared a wry look with Miss Foster. “I should be pleased—he has lasted far longer than I thought he would. Would you be disappointed if we left?”

  “Not at all,” she said.

  They rose and took leave of their hostess, and waited for the carriage to be brought round.

  While preparing for bed, Kat thought about her first evening in London society. It surprised her to discover how little it differed from similar events at home. Oh, the guests were more elegantly dressed, the food more plentiful and unusual, but underneath, it was much the same. One put on a mask of politeness, chatted about inconsequential matters, ideally acquired a new item of gossip, and generally found the evening dull.

  It had been a pleasant shock to discover that Newkirk found the whole thing as silly as she did. After all his concern about proper behavior, she would have expected him to be more interested in social events. But his remarks the other day at the art gallery and his obvious dislike for the amateurish music tonight, showed that his interest in social matters was minimal.

  Unless it involved finding her a husband.

  She shook her head with amusement at Sophie’s blatant attempts at matchmaking. Introducing Kat to a widower with three children was a bit too obvious. And the man

  was rather old, but if he enjoyed country pursuits as much as he claimed, she might be able to overlook that. And he already had children, so a few more would not matter.

  Newkirk, she knew, would accept him wholeheartedly.

  Which made his friend Wareham all the more interesting. Newkirk had practically ordered her away from him, serving only to pique Kat’s curiosity. A rake might prove to be an amusing companion.

  And if by seeing Wareham, she managed to frighten Newkirk, all the better. If he feared she might make an inopportune match, he might be more willing to listen to reason and let her and Eddie go home.

  All in all, she thought, as she climbed into bed, it had turned out to be rather a pleasant day. She’d seen Tatt’s, met a genuine rake, and learned that London society was really little different from that at home.

  And once again she’d learned that Newkirk could be a pleasant companion who shared many of her likes and dislikes. If only he would let her and her brothers go home, he would be the perfect guardian.

  Yet it was troubling that the last thought she had before she drifted off to sleep was how he was certainly the handsomest man she had seen all evening.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next evening, Kat hurried the maid into dressing her for the evening at the theater with record speed, then hastened down the stairs to the drawing room. She did not intend to allow Newkirk the satisfaction of labeling her arrival “late” this time.

  To her relief, he was not yet in the drawing room and she waited impatiently beside the fireplace. Now she could look forward to seeing the expression on his face when he discovered her ready and waiting for him.

  She started when the door opened and he stepped into the room. She had not heard him in the hall.

  If possible, she thought he looked even more elegant— and handsome—tonight than he had the previous evening. The stark black and white of formal evening wear suited him. And his tall, broad-shouldered frame made even her feel dainty.

  Kat suddenly wondered what he would look like in his military dress uniform. Did he even still have it, tucked away in a trunk somewhere? If she asked him, would he don it again, so she could see, or insist that he intended to keep it forever hidden away along with his unpleasant memories of war?

  She realized he was regarding her intently.

  “Do I pass inspection?” she demanded.

  He nodded. “You look nice. Is that a new dress?”

  “Of course it is,” she said. “Why do you think Sophie’s been dragging me to the dressmaker’s?”

  “I was teasing you,” Newkirk replied. “Of course it is a new dress. Sophie would never let you out of the house with anything less. You look quite lovely.”

  She wrinkled her nose in protest. The dress she wore tonight was not her favorite, but Sophie had insisted that the theater demanded a showy display. “I feel like an overdressed cream puff in a confectioner’s window.”

  “After the gentlemen catch a glimpse of you tonight, the drawing room will be overflowing with your visitors tomorrow.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You sound like Sophie. I do not expect all of London to be at my feet.”

  “Perhaps not all,” Newkirk admitted. “But I think you will turn a few heads tonight.”

  “Only from rank curiosity,” she retorted. “They will want to know who accompanies you and Sophie to the theater.”

  “I assure you, no one will be looking at me,” Newkirk said. He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. “Do you care to wager how much longer my sister will be?” “Oh, several minutes at least,” Kat replied airily. “It is

  no mean feat for such an ‘aged lady’ to get herself ready for an evening at the theater.”

  “Is that what she considers herself? An ‘aged lady’?” Newkirk shook his head.

  Kat laughed. “That is what she said after Morty and his friends visited. She claimed they made her feel like the grand matriarch, when she could not be above a year or two older than they.”

  “I shall have to see that she changes that attitude,” Val replied, then flashed her a grin. “Or else find you older suitors. She will never find a husband if she think
s of herself as on the shelf.”

  “Does she intend to remarry?” Kat asked. “She has not said so to me.”

  “Or to me,” Newkirk said. “But it is what I wish for her.”

  “I will help you find someone!”

  Newkirk shook his head. “Your task is to find a husband for yourself.”

  “I thought that was your responsibility, as my guardian.”

  Just then Sophie dashed into the room, the ends of her shawl flapping behind her.

  “We shall be shockingly late if we do not leave immediately,” Sophie said. “Are you two ready?”

  Newkirk shared an amused glance with Kat, then followed the two women out of the room.

  They arrived at the theater with only moments to spare. Kat barely caught a glimpse of the crowd in the pit and the elegantly dressed ladies in the boxes surrounding the stage, before the lights dimmed and the entertainment began.

  “I’ll point out people during the first interval,” Sophie whispered. “The house looks to be fairly full.”

  “Hush!” Newkirk commanded sternly.

  Sophie giggled. “We shall be the only ones paying attention,” she whispered to Kat again, then fell silent.

  Kat feared the theater would be as boring as the musicale Sophie had dragged them to last night. Instead of music, it would be words that offended her ears. But to her surprise, she found herself enjoying the light farce being presented on stage.

  The play was rather silly, and the catcalls from the pit during the supposed “romantic” moments only made the whole exercise more ludicrous. But the actors’ lines were often funny, and Kat admitted there was something to seeing a professional production, rather than the amateur theatricals she had experienced at home.