She knew he taunted her with his flippant remarks, knew also that he was hiding behind them as well. Could she goad him into an unexpected revelation? “I refuse to believe that the entire world is like that. Look at Somers and Elizabeth.”
“A very rare exception,” he murmured, shifting in his chair. “Look at Hartford, a doting father, but he rivals me for the numbers of mistresses he has kept.”
“But he was once married, so he must have formed some regard for a woman.”
“To his great regret.”
“Truly?” Katherine’s eyes grew wide.
“He discovered quite shortly after the wedding how eminently unsuitable they were. When it was far too late.” “And you, of course, will never allow such a thing to happen.” The bitterness in her voice surprised Katherine. Why should she expect Knowlton to behave any differently than his rakish reputation allowed?
“Precisely. What need have I of a wife when I can have nearly every woman I wish in my bed?”
Katherine was long past having the shocking nature of Knowlton’s conversation disturb her. What did bother her was Knowlton’s callous dismissal of the possibility of love and happiness with another. She pitied him more than anything. It strengthened her to know that she had more experience and wisdom in one area, at least.
“I have shocked you,” he said. “I am sorry.”
“No, it is not that.” Katherine self-consciously twisted her fingers. “I find that it is I who am sorry for you. You cut yourself off from the possibility of ever finding lasting happiness.”
“ ’Tis an impossible dream,” he replied, the sarcasm heavy in his voice. “I will wager in five years’ time Somers and Elizabeth will appear as any other bored couple.”
“I do not believe so.”
“You sound as if you desire a wager.”
“Do not be foolish,” Katherine snapped. “How cruel to actually wish unhappiness on someone, if only to be proved right in a silly wager.”
“I am not wishing unhappiness upon them,” Knowlton protested. “I am merely stating the unlikelihood of their besotted state continuing much longer.” He leaned forward, the intensity of his look startling Katherine. “Good Lord, they have been wedded for nearly two years now. I have seen newly married couples less in each other’s pockets.” “I think it speaks well of Lord Wentworth that he holds his wife in such esteem,” Katherine said archly.
“And did Captain Mayfield live in your pocket in such a way?”
Katherine paled, averting her eyes. “He was not at home long enough.”
Knowlton set down his glass and took her hands in his. “I am sorry, Katherine. My damnable tongue. I am certain the captain was an admirable husband; you are too fond of the married state for it to have been otherwise.”
She offered him a wan smile, captivated by the warmth in his voice. If only he knew just how much he tempted her to cast caution to the winds, to once again act on her impulses and not her wisdom. Particularly when he looked at her in the way he did now, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. She glanced down at their joined hands, then raised her eyes to meet his gaze, nearly recoiling at the new expression she saw there.
His expression of pleading had changed to one far more
deadly. There was pure, naked desire in the look he gave her now. He was doing nothing to hide it, showing her blatantly how much he wanted her. She felt a long-remembered thrill race through her and she could not tear her eyes away from his penetrating gaze. Those cynical gray eyes made silent love to her, causing the heat to rise within her at the very thought. The power in his look was almost hypnotic, and Katherine did not think she could glance away even if she wished. His thumb rubbed a sensuous pattern along her palm, and every nerve in her body tingled with growing anticipation and apprehension. She swayed slightly as the struggle raged within her.
“Katherine,” he whispered hoarsely.
The sound of his voice jolted her back to her senses and she wrenched her gaze away. Her breathing was fast, her pulse racing. He had totally, utterly seduced her with only a look.
“I think it is time I said good night,” she said a trifle breathlessly.
“Must you?” His thumb kept stroking suggestively along her palm. “There is so much more we could discuss.”
Katherine snatched her hand away and jumped to her feet. She had to get away. Now. “Good night, my lord.”
“Edward,” he corrected as he politely rose.
“Edward,” she whispered as she fled through the doorway.
Knowlton sank back into his chair, his mind and body disordered. Yes, she had fled from him, but not before he had clearly seen how she reacted to his advance. He had watched her breathing quicken, watched the soft rise and fall of her breasts increase as her awareness grew. She had responded to him physically, and he knew he had made progress. After all her talk of love and marriage, she had not been averse to his invitation.
She had declined it, to be sure, but not with any note of ringing finality. She had been interested, of that he was certain. The passionate nature she had shown him during that long-ago kiss in the garden still lurked within her, barely hidden under the surface. It would not be a torturous struggle to bring it to the forefront again. A few more tete-a-tete evenings like this, a glass or two of warmed brandy, and she would be falling into his arms and bed like a ripe plum from a tree. And once he had fully awakened her to the pleasures to be found there, he could look forward to a very satisfying relationship. Very satisfying. He had great hopes for Kate. She would not be a boring companion.
Katherine avoided Knowlton the next day, her thoughts still too jumbled from what had transpired the previous evening. She knew that a firmly worded set-down would cool Knowlton’s ardor; he was too much a gentleman to press forward where he was not wanted. But she could not bring herself to say the words that would free her from his attentions.
Knowlton was an enigmatic man. He was, without a doubt, one of the most blatant rakes she had ever met; at the same time, he was a responsible landlord and a thoughtful and caring gentleman. She was beginning to learn about the man under the flippant facade, the Knowlton that few people ever saw. The Knowlton who could buy a little boy a pony and spend endless hours teaching him the finer points of horsemanship. The Knowlton who would cut hay alongside his workers, then entertain them with all the pomp and hospitality a royal guest would receive. The man who would allow his hunting party to be broken up and his home invaded by women and children, just to ensure that a young boy’s broken leg healed properly. There was more depth to him than most people imagined.
She wanted to probe those depths, to bring out the hidden Knowlton who possessed tenderness and consideration. She wanted him to openly acknowledge that side of himself; the side he was afraid to face. He disclaimed interest in marriage, yet he had the patience of a doting parent when he dealt with Robbie. He would make a marvelous father, Katherine decided, and it was sad to think that he would not allow himself the joy of that relationship. Why was he so dreadfully opposed to admitting to his feelings?
She refused to accept that he was as satisfied with his libertine existence as he claimed. Surely there were times when he must wish for something as simple as companionship, a woman who was there for more than just the pleasure of her body. Abruptly, Katherine recalled the sensual gaze that had held her transfixed last evening, rekindling the very real attraction she felt for him. He almost could make her believe that a physical relationship would be enough, almost convince her that the pleasure would be worth whatever it cost.
Almost. But she had paid dearly for her hard-won widow’s respectability. Knowlton would take all that from her, leaving nothing in return. If only she could reach his heart . . .
“I find the idea of a dinner party wholly ridiculous,” Katherine complained to Lady Wentworth as they sat in the drawing room the next evening after dinner.
“Humor the man. He is dying here in the country without the social diversions of the city.”
>
“Then why does he not go back to London?” Katherine restlessly prowled the room. “He insists he is perfectly happy rusticating away here.”
Elizabeth shrugged, calmly setting another stitch in her embroidery. “Sometimes I think Knowlton does not know his own mind. But if he wishes to have a neighborhood dinner party, who are we, as his guests, to gainsay him?” “I never said he could not have a dinner. I merely said I think it is foolish to expect me to attend.”
“Nonsense.” Elizabeth smiled. “It would be good for you. We are all getting a little too familiar with our enforced company. It will be a welcome respite to swap gossip with some new faces.”
“Think how it will appear if I am at dinner!” Katherine whirled to face her new friend. It was one thing for her to remain at Warrenton as nurse for her son. To be a guest at a formal dinner would put her on a much different footing. It was a sharp reminder of how she could move in Knowlton’s world—if she chose.
“Katherine, the entire neighborhood knows you are staying here. And they know that I am here as well and that the situation is entirely proper.”
“But to appear at the dinner table like I am an honored guest? It will engender untold gossip.”
“It would inspire worse gossip if you did not appear at the table.”
Katherine sighed at the thought. She had not realized it before, but what Elizabeth said was true. “You are right, I believe that would look worse.” She thought for a moment. “But whatever shall I wear?”
Elizabeth laughed, recognizing the battle had been won. “Show me your wardrobe. I imagine we can contrive something.”
There was no question it would have to be Katherine’s gray silk, years out of date and much the worse for wear. With new trimming it would be passably acceptable, she thought, though nothing could transform it into the quality suitable for a formal dinner at an earl’s table. Yet she had little choice. A new gown for such a singular occurrence was out of the question. A trip to the village with Elizabeth produced some new lace, which Katherine quickly stitched to the drab dress. It would have to do.
By the time she had finished the alteration, Katherine actually looked forward to Knowlton’s party, after a fashion. The doctor had decreed that Robbie would probably be released from his enforced leisure by then and could return home. Katherine decided they would depart the day following the dinner. So the party would be a farewell of sorts—to Warrenton, Knowlton, and the leisurely life she had led here. It had been lovely to be so free of duties and responsibility, spending a few weeks living the life she had turned her back on before even knowing its delights. If she felt the tiniest regret for that decision, she pushed her qualms to the back of her mind. She dared not look back.
Katherine stretched carelessly and shifted in her chair. She had deliberately remained with Robbie this morning. It would not be long until they returned to the cottage, and she must begin to accustom herself to not being in the earl’s presence each day.
“Katherine, darling, would you be a dear and rescue Knowlton?” Elizabeth stood in the doorway to Robbie’s room. “I left Caro with him in the drawing room and I am afraid he will take fright and run at the least provocation.”
“Certainly,” said Katherine, smiling in anticipation of the earl’s discomfort.
“I will not be above ten minutes,” Elizabeth replied. “Caro tore my lace and she is sure to destroy the rest of the gown if I do not get it out of her reach.”
Katherine set down her book, glancing over to Robbie. He
was absorbed in his own reading. “I will be back when Elizabeth has repaired her dress,” she said to him. “Unless you would like me to bring Caro up here to keep you company.”
Robbie wrinkled his nose. “I do not want any babies in my room.”
The drawing-room door stood ajar and Katherine was able to look into the room without attracting Knowlton’s attention. She brought her hand to her Ups to smother a laugh. There he sat, Caro perched gingerly on his lap while he tried to keep her active hands off his neatly tied cravat.
“Here, now,” he said in dismay as she managed to grab one of the ends. He disentangled her pudgy fingers, but the moment he released her hand, she grabbed again.
Katherine could hear Caro’s gurgle of delight. The look of panicked frustration on Knowlton’s face was priceless.
“Stop that, Lady Caroline,” Knowlton said, his face mirroring his helplessness. “Men do not like ladies who destroy their cravats for no good reason.” He fumbled at his waistcoat and pulled out a gold pocket watch. He dangled it in front of the quickly enraptured girl, who followed every motion with her bright eyes.
“That is a watch, my lady. Can you say ‘watch’?” Knowlton half-laughed. “Of course you cannot. You can barely lisp ‘mama.’ ”
“Mama?”
“Oh, the devil take it,” Knowlton mumbled. “Try to say ‘Knowlton.’ ‘Knowl-ton.’ ”
“No-ton,” Caro parroted.
“Very good. You are a smart girl.” He allowed her to grab hold of the watch. “A watch is for telling time. A very important thing you will learn when you get older. If you do not know what time it is, how can you ever contrive to arrive fashionably late at a ball?” He leaned closer and whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “That is as important as learning how to pick out the most expensive item in a shop. Your papa will be paying for your things for a very long time, so you must learn at an early age to ask for the best. Papa would never say no to his girl.” Knowlton's face broke into a wicked smile. “You must insist on having the nicest bonnet and the fanciest lace for your dresses. How else is your papa to show you he loves you?”
Katherine was almost tempted to interrupt his outrageous advice, but she knew Caro did not understand a word of it. Yet his words gave her pause. Did he think all women were like that?
“Oh, Elizabeth, where are you?” he sang in mild despair as Caro fixed her attention and her hands on his cravat again. “This female seems to be impervious to my charms. How can you insult me so, dear lady?”
Caro answered with a chortling laugh.
“Now you try to flirt with me, you saucy baggage.” He grinned and tapped her cheek with his finger. “You are going to lead your papa on a merry dance when you get older, I will wager. He will find his hall littered with your admirers. But none of them will be good enough for his precious baby, will they?” He wrinkled his nose at her and she did the same in return.
A new sensation, not laughter, but something more like astonishment, swept over Katherine. She had seen how patient Knowlton was with Robbie, but had taken that for granted. Most men did well with boys his age. But watching him now with Caro, she saw that it was not just older boys, but also baby girls who brought out the hidden side of him. He had been ill-at-ease initially, but the longer she watched, the more relaxed he became.
He would be a marvelous father, she realized. Patient and understanding with his sons, teasing and loving with his daughters. A mixture of sadness and longing swept over her. He protested so vehemently against marriage, yet by turning his back on it, he was rejecting this experience as well. Would he ever admit, deep down inside, that he might like to bounce his own daughter upon his knee? Want to be cajoled by sweet smiles and demanding pouts into buying her the most expensive bonnet in the shop? Katherine knew if she asked him, he would deny such thoughts. But she would call him a liar.
Caro rapidly lost interest in the ruined folds of Knowlton’s cravat and slid off his lap, landing with a plop on her well-padded bottom. She grinned up at him.
“What, leaving so soon?” He peered down at her clear blue eyes. “I cannot believe I am such a failure with a lady. Perhaps you would rather take a stroll, Lady Caroline? Shall we take a walk through our domain?” He stood up, reaching down to pull her to her still-unsteady feet.
“Now, if what your doting papa says is true, you can march like a trooper.” Knowlton stood behind her, holding her tiny hands in his fingers. “Shall we make a circuit of t
he ballroom, my lady?” He shuffled behind her awkward, high-stepping gait. “Look, there is Lady Bamham. Isn’t she wearing the most dreadful head ornament? And look at Lady Welmore! Such a shocking display. You will have to remember to tell your papa you wish to patronize the same modiste. That will keep the lads interested. Oh ho,” he said, reaching down to catch her as she stumbled. He swept her up into the air. “Shall we waltz instead, my lady? I know we have not been properly introduced, but I assure you that I am the very model of good manners and restraint. Just ask your papa.”
Holding Caro in his arms, Knowlton whirled her about the room at a dizzying pace, the girl’s delighted laughter goading him to ever greater speed.
Katherine stepped back in alarm when they came in her direction, but she was too slow.
Knowlton spotted her as he twirled past the door, and was flooded with chagrin to have such a witness to his foolishness. He stopped and looked at her quizzically for a moment; then he turned his head to Caro. “Uh-oh. It is that mean dragon of a chaperon, come to take you away from me.”
Katherine stepped into the room. “Why, I would not dream of such a thing. You two make such an adorable couple.” She was delighted to see the faint traces of color cross Knowlton’s cheeks.
“It is true,” he said, setting Caro down carefully. “I seem to be notoriously irresistible to the ladies.” He flashed her a wry grin. “Except for one.”
“Ah, we are a fickle lot,” Katherine said airily, kneeling down to give Caro a hug. “Why, I daresay if her papa came into the room, she would bolt from you like a shot.” “No,” he said in mock disbelief. “Lady Caroline would do no such thing. Would you, my dear?”
“Bapa?”
The Defiant Miss Foster & A Highly Respectable Widow Page 34
