The Defiant Miss Foster & A Highly Respectable Widow

by Melinda McRae

  “Oh,” Robbie said with a crestfallen expression.

  “Wanted a playfellow, eh?”

  Robbie nodded. “I miss my friend Sam.”

  The marquess shot Katherine a questioning look.

  “One of the neighbors’ boys,” she explained hastily. She could only imagine what the marquess would say if he knew Robbie’s playmate was a rough farmer’s son.

  The marquess appeared satisfied. “Your mama says you are doing well in your studies. How is your Latin?” Robbie glanced at his mother.

  “Adequate,” he said.

  “Greek?”

  “Tolerable.”

  “Mathematics?”

  “He has outpaced his tutor in that field,” Katherine said proudly, not adding that she had been that person. But she had no qualms about Robbie’s ability in that area.

  The marquess nodded in satisfaction. “Your mama thinks you ought to be going to school soon. We sent your papa off at eleven. What do you think of that idea?”

  Robbie looked at his mother in surprise, and Katherine groaned inwardly. She had known there would be a stumbling block somewhere this evening, and they had just run straight into it. She returned Robbie a rueful smile, refusing to indicate what response she desired. Thank goodness she had never repeated Robert’s stories of how he had hated life at Eton. Robbie was on his own.

  “Well, I ... I think that might be all right,” he said doubtfully. “What kind of school? Would I have to leave Mama?”

  “It would depend on which school you were suited for,” the marquess responded. “Perhaps the best thing to do is have you examined by a qualified tutor to see how far you have progressed in your studies. If there are any deficiencies, you will need to make them up first.”

  “Do you really want me to go away to school?” Robbie asked his mother.

  “It would give you the opportunity to be with boys your own age,” she said cautiously. “You would have the chance to make many friends.”

  Robbie sat quietly, considering. “I will think about it,” he said finally. He turned back to the marquess. “Are Mama and I going to come and live with you now?”

  Katherine suppressed a grin. She was pleased to see the marquess put on the spot for once.

  “It may be,” he said. “Do you want to live in the city?”

  “Can I have a pony in the city?”

  “Still eager to ride after your accident?”

  Robbie nodded. “I had to leave my pony when we came here, but Mama said you might let me bring him here. May I?”

  The marquess nodded silently, and Katherine saw the ghost of a smile flit across his lips.

  The butler appeared at the door. “Dinner is served, my lord.”

  “About time,” grumbled the marquess. “You would think they wanted a body to starve around here.” He eyed Robbie skeptically. “Have you creditable manners at the table, boy?”

  Robbie nodded.

  The marquess held out his arm to Katherine and she took it shyly.

  “He’ll do,” the marquess whispered to her in a low undertone as they stepped into the corridor.

  Katherine and Robbie moved to the town house the following day, to Robbie’s great delight. He insisted on exploring every nook and cranny of the four-story building. Katherine admonished him against pestering the servants, for his first question to all of them was whether they had known his father. Surprisingly, a large number of the house workers remembered Robert and filled the eager boy with tales of his father. It did much to ease Katherine’s worries about how Robbie would adjust to the change in then- situation.

  She had barely had the opportunity to adjust herself to their changed surroundings when Lady Durham descended upon her. Katherine had never met the wife of Robert’s older brother—they had married after Robert’s death—and she was curious to meet her sister-in-law for the first time. Smoothing down the skirts of her unfashionable day gown, Katherine repaired to the upper saloon to meet the woman whose children had supplanted Robbie in the inheritance.

  What could she expect from the countess? Acceptance, dismay, or outright resentment?

  An elegantly garbed and coiffed woman, short and slender, with dark hair, was gazing with rapt attention out the window to the activity in the square below.

  “Lady Durham?” Katherine questioned.

  The lady turned and surveyed Katherine with an inquisitive and appraising stare. At the moment when Katherine felt her anger rising at this rude perusal, Lady Durham broke into a musical laugh.

  “I can certainly see why Robert chose you over his family!”

  “Can you?” Katherine’s voice was icy.

  “Oh, dear, I have bungled matters already, haven’t I?” Lady Durham tossed her head gaily. “I always make such a mull of things. What I meant to say was that you are far more lovely than I could have imagined. It will be a delight to take you in hand.”

  “Take me in hand?” Katherine felt her anger rising again.

  “I did not phrase that well either, did I? The marquess wishes me to advise you on the matter of your new wardrobe.”

  “Since he obviously does not trust me to competently choose my own. He need not fear, I will not disgrace him.”

  “And there is no reason to think you should,” Lady Durham murmured soothingly. “I really am making a botch of this. I am certain you have excellent taste. But I do so love to shop, and Frederick is being positively gothic about my overrunning my allowance again this quarter and has forbidden me to make any more purchases. Helping you choose your new wardrobe will be almost as much fun. Please say you will let me accompany you.”

  Katherine smiled in spite of herself. She began to suspect her younger sister-in-law was a bit of a scatter-wit. “I would enjoy it if you came along, Lady Durham.”

  “Oh, please, call me Castalia. After all, we are sisters of a sort. Your name is Katherine, is it not? May I call you that?”

  Katherine nodded, growing more and more amused by this chattering young woman.

  “Do you wish to begin this morning? I know they have received some new silks at the warehouse, and I saw the most exquisite lace shawls at Plummer’s last week, and—”

  “I need only a few things.”

  Castalia paused. “The marquess said he had given you carte blanche for everything, top to toe. My goodness, you do not intend to turn down such a generous offer?”

  “It is a munificient gesture, but I hardly see the need.” Katherine shook her head doubtfully. “I own I would like to purchase a few dresses. However, my remaining needs are small.”

  Lady Durham laughed. “I can see why the marquess wished me to accompany you. You cannot possibly do without at least a dozen outfits.” She ticked off the list on her fingers. “Two walking gowns, at least, and a carriage dress. Dinner gowns . . . three, I think, and three evening dresses as well. Do you ride?”

  Katherine shook her head, too astounded by the woman’s grandiose plans to say anything.

  “Well, perhaps another carriage dress, then. And some morning gowns. With all the matching gloves, bonnets, shawls, and shoes, it will make a prodigious collection.” Her eyes glowed with excitement. “It should entail a full week of shopping, at least.”

  “But I have no need—”

  “Of course you do. You do not want to disgrace the Marquess or the memory of your husband when you are presented into society?”

  “I hardly think I shall be much in society,” Katherine protested. “Once the matter of Robbie’s schooling is settled, I will be returning to the country.”

  “You do not wish to remain in London?” Incredulity lit Lady Durham’s face. “Why ever not?”

  “I have no reason to be in the city. I have no connections with whom to renew acquaintances.”

  “Then you will have ample opportunity to make new ones,” Lady Durham declared emphatically. “Goodness, Katherine, the Little Season is in full swing already. If we do not get you about soon, everyone will have deserted the city fo
r country estates and you will have to wait until spring.”

  Katherine suspected that she was going to be swept along into whatever plans the marquess and Castalia had for her, whether she wished to be or not. This woman might be frivolous, but Katherine suspected she had a will of steel beneath her flightly exterior.

  “I will acquiesce to perhaps half that number of outfits,” she said firmly. She did not wish to be more indebted to the marquess than she had to.

  Castalia airily waved a hand. “Six, eight, twelve. It is much the same. Shall we leave now?”

  Katherine suppressed the urge to laugh at her sister-in- law’s determination. “I will get my cloak.”

  Katherine was much less in favor of Castalia’s enthusiasm when they finally returned to St. James Square. It was not the countess who had been required to stand stiff as a statue while she was being measured, poked, prodded, and pinned for what seemed an eternity. Despite Katherine’s protests, Castalia proceeded to order all the gowns on her required list, plus a few extra. When measurements had been taken, the fabrics chosen, and delivery dates promised, Castalia then dragged her to the vast warehouses where she forced stockings, handkerchiefs, chemises, gloves, and every manner of item on the protesting Katherine. She had wondered at the two footmen who had accompanied the carriage, but saw the wisdom in their presence when they followed the two ladies from the shop with an enormous burden of packages in their arms.

  Katherine sank back against the carriage cushions in exhaustion.

  “Now, of course, we will have to plan your entrance into society.” Castalia bubbled with enthusiasm. “I know Lady Trumball is having a rout next week; that might make a nice beginning. We can have our own ball the following week, and—”

  “Castalia, it really is not necessary to go to such trouble. I assure you, I have no desire to cut a dash in society. I am merely a simple country widow.”

  “But Frederick has been so reluctant to give his permission for a ball. If it was in your honor, he could hardly refuse, could he?”

  The pleading look Castalia directed at her did little to alleviate Katherine’s misgivings. Her only desire had been for Robbie’s future when she repaired the breach with his grandfather. She had never intended for the marquess to provide for her; now she had acquired this overwhelming wardrobe and her in-laws were determined to introduce her to society. Katherine feared she would be woefully out of place among the elevated reaches of the ton.

  Katherine’s protestations were ignored and Castalia merrily planned a ball more suitable to the debut of an Incomparable than the mere introduction of the inconsequential widow of a long-dead younger son. And Katherine began to have grave suspicions as to the reasoning behind this. No one had actually said anything outright to her, but it did not take long for Katherine to notice that Castalia, and the marquess himself, took great pains to introduce her to every bachelor they met.

  Katherine shook her head at their faulty reasoning. She had given them no indication that she wished to remarry. And she grew suspicious of their motives. Marriage would cut her legal ties to the Mayfields—would they use that as an excuse to attempt to take Robbie from her again?

  And even if she did not have that worry, she saw no reason to take another man to husband. Short as it had been, her marriage to Robert had been all that she could have wanted. It would be an impossible task to attempt to recreate that magic with another man. And if the image of a pair of cynical gray eyes belied her protestations, she had the cold comfort of knowing that he held out no offer of marriage.

  She felt as if she were being swept along by a swift river current. With no hope of struggling against it, she was forced to acquiesce and follow where it led her. And if it involved routs and balls and theater parties, well, there was a growing part of her that admitted that the enjoyments of even the Little Season were more than she had ever hoped to experience. As long as she accepted that they were to be a temporary happenstance, she could relax her qualms and attempt to enjoy herself. It might be her only opportunity.

  Despite his growing dissatisfaction, Knowlton felt himself strangely reluctant to leave Warrenton, even though he felt restless and bored within its walls. In the past few weeks the servants had learned to tread lightly when in the presence of the earl. The merest slip, an awkward appearance, or a perfectly respectable performance of their duties was likely to earn them a blistering tirade from Knowlton.

  He sought comfort in exhaustion. From morning to afternoon he was in the saddle, riding about the county in a reckless manner that left him physically tired but mentally alert. When not ahorse, he stalked the estate with his shotgun, bagging enough birds to feed the entire county. By dinnertime he could barely keep his eyes open, and it took only small quantities of brandy or port to tumble him into sleep, usually in his chair in the study.

  He studiously avoided Katherine’s old cottage on his wild rambles, riding miles in the other direction to avoid any place associated with her. Yet every sight of his own stable brought Robbie’s abandoned pony to mind. How could she have been so cruel as to leave the poor beast behind? Robbie would be grieved at the loss. She was intolerably selfish, thinking only of herself. If he ever got his hands on her again, he would be sorely tempted to throttle her.

  Knowlton grew more discontented with every passing day. Warrenton held too many reminders of the pleasant hours he had spent in Kate’s company. Every night, as he took to his bed, he was assailed with vivid reminders of that impassioned kiss in Robbie’s room. Knowlton’s body ached for her. He struggled against his desire, willed his body to obey his mind, but more often than not his efforts resulted in dismal failure.

  The peace of mind he had thought to find at Warrenton when he arrived from London all those months ago completely eluded him with Kate’s abrupt departure. And short of filling his house with an assortment of unwanted guests, there was little he could do to restore his sympathy with life here. Perhaps it was time to return to London. There would still be a flurry of activity before the ton left town for the winter holiday. Time enough to sample the pleasures of the city. After a four-month absence, they might not look so discouraging.

  Yes, he decided, he would go to town. It was only the solitude of Warrenton that made the memories of Kate Mayfield so difficult to abandon. He would wager that within a week of his arrival in the city, her memory would

  cease to taunt him. In London, there was no shortage of ladies who would be quite willing to accept his patronage. With a sudden spurt of enthusiasm, he rang for Rigsby and ordered him to prepare to depart the following day.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Woman, that fair and fond deceiver How fond are striplings to believe her!

  —Byron, To Woman

  Katherine’s arrival on the scene was greeted by the ton with curiosity and questions, which the family explained away as a lengthy period of mourning for the long-dead Robert. This explanation was met with complete acceptance. Katherine continued to make mild protests against the family’s attempts to turn her into a social matron, which Castalia dismissed as the typical nervousness due any young lady making her bow in London. Katherine was nervous about it. Raised in a simple home, the grandest entertainments she had ever attended were the local assemblies, where she had met Robert. Her subsequent life as an underfunded officer’s wife had not been overly exciting. And certainly since his death she had lived as retired a life as one could imagine. Those weeks at Warrenton had been her only contact with members of the ton. Now her in-laws expected her to take that association as a matter of course.

  It was not that Katherine did not wish to enter society. She confessed she enjoyed the small dinners and musical entertainments she attended, and the theater was as entrancing as she remembered from her lone visit with Robert. It was only the lack of purpose for her participation that caused her to pause. All she wanted from Robert’s

  family was a gentleman’s education for her son; she never planned to ask for anything for herself. But they acted
as if it were all a matter of course, and Katherine suspected that only downright defiance would cause them to lay down their plans. And there was just enough of a luxury-loving woman in her not to go that far. She would never take her new position for granted, but while it was offered, she would be foolish to refuse. When Robbie went off to school next year, she could take up the threads of her own life again.

  Katherine felt the tiniest twinges of doubt about the ball that Castalia organized in her honor. It seemed to be far too grand an affair for introducing a widowed sister-in-law. Indeed, it looked more appropriate for the come-out of the daughter of an exalted family. But Castalia just laughed off her protests and blithely went her own way. Katherine submerged her doubts and followed along. And she had to admit that the gorgeous green silk Castalia forced upon her was made up into an admirable dress.

  Katherine fought against her nerves as she followed Castalia into the main drawing room. No other young lady making her first bow into society could feel more apprehensive. The falseness of her position plagued her. She was not an innocent miss in search of a husband. Why, then, had she allowed them to subject her to this public perusal?

  Because it pleased them, and that pleasure reflected on what the marquess was willing to do for Robbie. And that was why she found herself at the Earl of Durham’s house, dressed in all her new finery, waiting for the ball in her honor to begin. At least this sacrifice was more pleasant than the one she had made six years ago. The results of her current capitulation were worth it, of course, for the marquess was completely reconciled to her guardianship of Robbie. She had achieved all she could have asked for.