The Defiant Miss Foster & A Highly Respectable Widow

by Melinda McRae

  She was a witch. There could be no other explanation for the power she held over him. Never had a woman so filled his mind, pushing all else aside to become the dominant thought during all his waking hours. And unsatisfied with that achievement, she made his nights a torment.

  There had to be a way to free himself from her grip.

  Katherine took her seat at the breakfast table, eyeing the groaning sideboard with distaste. She had eaten far too much at the Worthington rout last evening, but it had been easier to eat than to talk with Belton. She reached for a piece of toast, nibbling on it while the waiting footman poured her tea. The marquess ignored her presence, his head buried in the newspaper.

  “Well, my dear, when can we expect an interesting announcement?”

  His abrupt question startled Katherine out of her reverie.

  “An interesting what?” She directed him a puzzled look.

  “Belton. Has he talked to you yet?”

  “About what?” she asked casually, although she knew perfectly well what the marquess meant.

  “Good God, girl, are you obtuse? No man pays a lady that much attention unless he is considering marriage.”

  “The subject has not come up,” Katherine replied primly.

  “And I wager that is more of your doing,” said the marquess, laying down his paper with a disgusted snort. “You are no miss fresh out of the school room; you know how these things are done. You have to maneuver him into the right position.”

  “I have no desire to maneuver Lord Belton into anything,” she said obstinately.

  “You could not do much better,” the marquess mused.

  “He has a very good income, a prosperous estate. And he dotes on you.”

  Katherine had the grace to blush. “Lord Belton is an amiable companion. Nothing more.”

  “If I thought you were still wearing the willow for my son, it would make sense,” the marquess said, his voice rising. “But you ain’t, and that’s a fact. You are acting like a skittish filly at her first mating. Good God, woman, you’re a nearly thirty-year-old widow, with a son to boot. Husbands don’t grow on trees for the likes of you.”

  “I am not looking for a husband,” Katherine said, her anger rising. “As I have tried to tell you and Castalia more than once. But you both refuse to listen.”

  He brushed off her objections with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Of course you want a husband. You need someone who can give young Robbie some guidance.”

  “I can give Robbie all the guidance he needs.” She pressed her lips together tightly to forestall a more heated response.

  “The boy needs a man,” the marquess roared. “You have been given every opportunity to find one. If you let Belton slip through your fingers, you are a worse fool than I thought.” He picked up his newspaper again and retreated behind its printed pages.

  Katherine left her half-eaten toast and took her teacup into the library. She was not going to let the marquess goad her into a display of anger.

  The marquess, despite his lack of tact, was right. She was acting like a skittish filly. She knew that the slightest word of encouragement would bring a declaration from Belton. Why did she hold back?

  It was foolish of her, really. Belton would make an excellent husband. He liked Robbie, and more important, Robbie liked him. He was steady and dependable. She never need worry that he would squander his money on gaming or lightskirts. As his wife, she would have the security she longed for, a house she could call her own. Why, then, was she so reluctant to bring him to the point?

  Simply because the sight of him did not take her breath away. The touch of his hand did not send thrills coursing through her body. And she suspected that kissing him would be about as satisfying as kissing a brother.

  It was unfair, but she simply could not help comparing her reaction to him with the one she had to Knowlton. And there was simply no comparison. With Knowlton, her pulse raced, breathing became an effort. He had treated her abominably that night at Elizabeth’s, and still she found herself melting in his arms. It was a continuing revelation to discover how he could tempt her to throw all her good sense and judgment out the window at the crook of his beckoning finger.

  Knowlton did not enjoy his solitary ride through the park that morning. The signs of spring grew more evident each day and hinted of the summer to come. Anyone else would have been cheered by the thought. To Knowlton the idea of summer brought only gloom. He could not think of summer without thinking of Warrenton, and Kate.

  “Knowlton! Lord Knowlton!”

  He froze at the eager, familiar voice. One more reminder of his damnable folly. “Hello, Robbie.”

  “I say, Knowlton, it has been ever so long since I saw you last.”

  “That it has, Robbie.” A genuine smile crossed his face. “Still riding Atlas, I see.”

  Robbie smiled and patted his mount’s neck. “He is a good pony. Although Grandfather says I may have a full-size horse this summer.”

  “Planning on spending the summer with Winslow, are you?” Did that mean Katherine would be there also?

  “Mama says we might go to the seashore, but I am not certain we will.” He looked glumly at Knowlton. “Aunt Castalia says Mama might have other plans.”

  Knowlton hastily sucked in his breath. It did not take much effort to guess at Lady Durham’s meaning. “I saw your mama just the other night at a party,” he said with a forced casualness. “She was with Lord Belton.” He watched Robbie carefully to gauge his feelings for his mother’s suitor.

  “She is with him often.” Robbie gave Knowlton a wistful stare.

  It was cowardly of him to discuss this with Robbie, but he had to know which way the wind blew. “Do you like Lord Belton?”

  “He is nice,” said Robbie with a self-conscious smile. “He brings me things a lot. Mostly books. Mama says he collects books. The last one was about a man who is stranded on a desert island all by himself except for a friend he called Friday.”

  “Robinson Crusoe.” Knowlton smiled in remembered pleasure. “And now I wager you wish to go to sea when you are a bit older.”

  Robbie colored. “Maybe. I still think about the cavalry.”

  “We never did get you to Astley’s last fall, did we?” Knowlton frowned in remembrance. “It was forgotten in all the business after the queen’s death.”

  “Oh, I have been twice this spring. Lord Belton took me once, and Mama and Grandpapa came with me one time.” Knowlton tried to ignore the sharp pain that stabbed through him. How he would have liked to see Robbie’s wide eyes at his first glimpse of the delights of Astley’s. He would wager a monkey the lad had talked of nothing else for weeks. A deep regret assailed him.

  “What else have you been up to these last months?” If Knowlton had been cut out of Robbie’s life as effectively as from Katherine’s, he could at least hear what he had missed.

  “Studying a lot.” Robbie grimaced. “I have a tutor now because Mama says I will be going away to school in the fall. Did you go away to school when you were eleven?” Knowlton remembered those first terror-filled weeks at Eton, when the older students had mercilessly tortured the new ones. Perhaps things were better now. He hoped Robbie would have an easier time. “I was about your age when I went to Eton,” he said carefully. “You will make lots of new friends at school.”

  Robbie shrugged gently. “I hope so. I wish my cousins were older so I could play with them. I miss Sam sometimes.”

  “Sam is doing well, I hear. I saw him when I was at Warrenton last month. I will tell him you asked after him when I see him next.”

  “Thank you,” Robbie said, smiling.

  “Do you think your mama will marry Lord Belton?” The moment the words left his mouth, Knowlton was appalled at his question. But he had to know.

  Robbie gave him a curious glance. “I do not know. I

  think Grandpapa wants her to. She has not said anything to me. What do you think?”

  “I am not privy to your mother�
�s thoughts,” Knowlton replied stiffly. He would be the last person on earth to have that news.

  “Sometimes I wish we were back at the Rose Cottage,” Robbie said quickly. “So I could walk over to Warrenton and visit you.”

  A sudden impulse seized Knowlton. “Do you still play chess?”

  Robbie nodded.

  “Then came home with me now. We can have a quick game.”

  Robbie’s eyes lit. “Really?”

  “Really.” Robbie’s enthusiasm bolstered Knowlton’s spirits. “You can send the groom back to your grandfather’s with the message; I can escort you home later.”

  “Capital!” the boy exclaimed.

  As they swung the horses toward the park exit, Knowlton felt a twinge of regret for all that he had missed and was going to miss. One morning of chess would not count for much over a lifetime.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sweet seducer! blandly smiling;

  Charming still, and still beguiling!

  Oft I swore to love thee never Yet I love thee more than ever!

  —Thomas Moore, Song

  Katherine looked up in surprise as the butler ushered Belton into the morning room. For a moment she was confused. Had she promised to accompany him somewhere today and forgotten? In the jumbled state her mind was often in these days, it was a distinct possibility.

  “I had hoped to find you at home this morning,” Belton said.

  She let out a relieved breath and flashed him a welcoming smile. “How nice of you to call,” she said, setting her sewing aside.

  Lord Belton took his seat across from her. Katherine thought he looked oddly uncomfortable today, and the first hints of apprehension teased at her brain.

  “Katherine,” he began, “you cannot be surprised when I tell you how much I have grown to admire you.”

  Dread swept over her body. That which she had most feared was happening, and she was beset with panic. What was she going to do? What could she say to him?

  “It is always a pleasure to be in your company,” she said slowly. How, exactly, did one go about forestalling a proposal? She abruptly stood up and crossed the room to the window, certain that her nervousness was obvious. “The weather looks to be clearing.”

  He came up behind her. “Katherine, there is no need to be skittish.”

  She whirled and faced him. “Do you imagine that I am nervous, my lord?”

  “It has not escaped my notice that you have been taking great pains of late to avoid being alone in my company. I begin to think I have offended you in some manner.”

  She uttered a nervous laugh. “Certainly not, my lord. I am sorry if I have given you that impression, for I assure you it was not my intent.”

  Belton took her hand in his and led her back to the sofa. She sat gingerly on the edge, half-dreading what was to come and half-relieved that it would be out in the open at last.

  “Katherine, I find I am no longer able to enjoy a day if I am not able to spend some small part of it in your company.”

  She forced her gaze to meet his, and the fond emotion that shone in his bright blue eyes pained her. “My lord—”

  “Richard.”

  “Richard.” The name sounded strange on her tongue. Could she speak it every day for the rest of her life?

  “I think we have spent enough time in each other’s company to have a fair estimation of one another’s character. There is much to be admired in yours, Katherine. You have grace, and beauty, and serenity.”

  She stilled the urge to laugh. Serenity. That was one thing she completely lacked. Serenity had fled from her life the day she had met Knowlton.

  “You make me sound too much of a paragon,” she said lightly. “I fear I could not live up to such standards.”

  He smiled warmly. “I cannot imagine any such thing,” he said, taking her hand again. “I had hoped to invite you to Belton House this spring so you could determine whether you could be happy there.” His eyes searched her face. “But I find I am too impatient to wait for such an opportunity. You would do me great honor, Katherine, if you would consent to become my wife.”

  She dropped her eyes, looking dispassionately at their clasped hands. A proposal. A most honorable one. Castalia and the marquess would be thrilled. Katherine could not put a name to the emotion the offer stirred within her.

  As if sensing her hesitation, he sought to further his case. “I cannot pretend to replace Captain Mayfield, either as a husband or as a father to his son. But I know I could be a good guide for your Robbie. And I hope I could be the kind of husband you would wish.”

  She shut her eyes, feeling the tears welling in them. Why could he not have waited a bit longer, waited until she had her emotions more closely under control? Now she was going to have to say something, and she did not know what her answer would be.

  “You honor me with your attention,” she said at last, choosing her words with infinite care. “And I cannot say that your offer causes me displeasure. But I do not feel that I can give you an answer immediately.”

  She looked toward him and smiled pleadingly. “I entertained no intention of seeking another husband when Robbie and I rejoined the family. I felt that the happiness I had enjoyed with Robert was all that one person could expect from a lifetime. To marry again . . . There have been so many changes in my life this past year, I do not know if I am ready for another yet.”

  She saw the disappointment in his eyes as he sat back.

  “I certainly understand your hesitation, Katherine,” he said. “I in no way want to make you feel that I am forcing a decision upon you. Perhaps my original plan was best. Later in the spring I could arrange a party at Belton—”

  “I cannot expect you to wait so long for an answer,” she said, deciding in that moment that she would have to make up her mind soon. “I ask for only a short time to consider your very flattering offer.”

  “I will await your decision, then,” he said in a lighter tone. He brought her hand up and gently brushed his lips against it. “You know that I will hold out every hope that you will find me worthy of your affections.”

  She wanted to scream at him to stop, to cry out that she was not worthy of his affections at all. That she had given her heart to a callous rake and was almost willing to throw away a good and kind man like Belton because of it. But she remained silent.

  Belton rose to his feet. “I will take my leave now, Katherine.”

  She stood and walked with him to the morning room door. “I thank you again for the honor,” she said quietly. “And I promise to give the matter great thought.”

  He nodded and took his leave.

  Katherine collapsed weakly upon the sofa. Dear God, what was she going to do? She laughed bitterly. Last year she had been a near-penniless widow; now she was being offered a life of luxury and ease she could only have dreamed of then.

  She tried to school her mind along objective lines. There was no denying that Belton would be a good father for Robbie. They got along well. Belton never talked down to her son, and paid him respectful attention at all times. They dealt well together. And she could not underestimate the importance of Robbie’s happiness to her.

  It was not any apprehension about Belton’s dealings with Robbie that caused her reservations. And she did not hold any concerns about the way Belton would treat her. He was always a perfect gentleman, solicitous, concerned, and willing to do anything to please her. As his wife, she would be worshiped and adored. He would indulge her whims, surprise her perhaps with presents, and be as attentive as she could ever wish.

  No, what caused her to pause was the fear that she would be a dismal failure as his wife. Could she truly be content in that role? Or would the ghost of a cynical earl with mocking smile and cool gray eyes always come between them? With Knowlton forever in her heart, would there be room for anything other than warm affection for Belton? He deserved far more.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling chilled even in the warm room. Was there any hop
e of escape from this coil?

  Katherine forced her lips into a smile as Robbie entered the room.

  “Finished with your studies already?”

  He nodded, standing awkwardly, as if considering something in his mind. “Are you going to marry Lord Belton?” he blurted out.

  Katherine was taken aback. In all her confusion, she had never once discussed the matter with Robbie. Of course she must speak to him before making her decision. He would be as affected by the matter as she.

  “Does that idea displease you?” she asked, carefully watching for his reaction.

  He shrugged. “Lord Belton is nice. I just wondered.”

  “Has someone been talking to you about this?” If the marquess had gone behind her back and hinted to Robbie, she would be furious.

  “I saw Lord Knowlton in the park yesterday. He wanted to know.”

  Just the mention of his name was enough to send her pulses racing. Knowlton’s interest puzzled her. But she was certain it meant nothing. It was obvious her relationship with Belton was on everyone’s mind.

  She reached for Robbie’s hand and drew him to the sofa. “We have never talked about the possibility of my remarrying. What do you think about the idea?”

  Robbie wrinkled his freckled nose. “It would be all right, I guess. As long as it was someone like Lord Belton or Lord Knowlton. They are fun.”

  “I do not think it very likely that I would marry Lord Knowlton,” she said quickly, the words cutting into her like a knife. “Lord Belton was here this morning, and he does wish to marry me.”