The Rebel Bride

by Catherine Coulter

  She stiffened and Julien cursed silently under his breath at Hugh’s unfortunate interruption. He forced a smile of welcome though and said easily, “Good to see you, Hugh. Won’t you please join us?” He shot her a look of pure mischief. “Katharine and I have just been discussing the merits of yachts.”

  “Ah, yes, your lovely Fair Maid down at Southampton. A very elegant yacht, Miss Brandon.” It was then that he noted her flushed face and realized that both of them wished him to be far and away from here. He said quickly, backing away, “I believe I see someone waving to me. I will take my leave now. Indeed a pleasure, Miss Brandon, to see you again.”

  He took a step backward, freedom within his reach, when, to the chagrin of the entire company, Lady Bellingham jerked her head up, blinked her eyes, and announced in a flurry, “Oh, dear. I declare, I must have dropped off for a moment. Lord Launston, how charming to see you, dear boy. Have you been keeping Julien and Katharine company?”

  Hugh took a deep breath, cast an apologetic glance at Julien, and bowed low to Lady Bellingham. “Your servant, ma’am. Actually, I was just about to take my leave.”

  “He noticed a friend waving to him,” Julien added, eyes laughing.

  Kate turned to Hugh and said with the sweetest voice Julien had ever heard from her, “We would count it a great honor, sir, if you would stay awhile with us. Surely your friend will understand.”

  “I agree,” Lady Bellingham said. “Come, my boy, sit beside me and tell me all the latest gossip.” She patted the empty chair beside her, and Hugh, defeated, sat down.

  Kate knew but a fleeting moment of victory, for the box was small, and although Hugh was slender, they were forced to move their chairs even closer together. She felt Julien’s thigh pressing against hers, and the gentle pressure sent again that strange tingling sensation coursing through her, landing deep in her belly. She looked at him, frowning. She didn’t like it. She didn’t want him near her. Fortunately, many of the huge branches of candles were extinguished at that moment, the light became quite dim, and the curtain rose for the second act.

  Julien had felt her reaction and now he sat back, a self-satisfied smile on his face. For the remainder of the play he indulged in various pleasurable fancies, having to do most of them with her naked, sprawled on her back, her glorious hair fanned about her head, and him above her, caressing her, coming deeply inside her. Ah, and there was a smile on her face and her arms were about his back.

  Had anyone later asked him to discuss the merits of Kemble’s performance, he would have been quite unworthy of the task.

  Kate didn’t awake until nearly noon of the next day. She felt surprisingly well rested and alert despite the fact that she’d not fallen into her bed until well after two o’clock in the morning. She rose, eased her feet into slippers, and pulled on a wrapper. She thought of Julien and jerked the bell cord with more violence than was necessary.

  Eliza appeared but a few moments later, carrying a tray with crunchy rolls and hot chocolate. “Good morning, Miss Katharine. Cook just baked the rolls for you. Piping hot they are.”

  “Thank you, Eliza.”

  “Your new green-velvet gown has just arrived, just in time for you to wear to Almack’s this evening. I went around to Madame Giselle’s myself this morning to fetch it, Lady Bellingham being in quite a taking that it wouldn’t be ready in time.”

  The crunchy roll seemed to revert to dry dough in Kate’s mouth. She lowered her head so that Eliza wouldn’t see her fear and her anger. Almack’s. She could easily imagine the curious stares and the smug glances, the whispered comments behind gloved hands.

  “Then you know that Lady Bellingham is planning to attend Almack’s this evening?”

  “Oh, yes. Walpole is in quite a tizzy about how best to arrange her ladyship’s hair.” She picked up a brush to comb out the tangles from Kate’s messed hair. She fancied Walpole was jealous of her attending Miss Katharine.

  Damn him, Kate thought furiously, thumping down her cup of chocolate on the tray. He’d told her himself about their attendance at Almack’s this evening so that she wouldn’t have the opportunity to refuse Lady Bellingham, were the good lady the one to suggest it.

  Still glorying in Walpole’s supposed jealousy, Eliza brushed her long, thick hair, quite oblivious of her mistress’s anger. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to dress your hair high on top of your head, in curls. You will be the most beautiful lady present, for I am quite good at it, you know.”

  15

  The day was already half gone, and the remainder passed much too quickly for Kate. She paced restlessly back and forth in her room, alternately shaking her fist in the direction of Grosvenor Square, and cursing herself for her inability to find a solution to her most immediate problem. She felt that she might as well be an actor on the stage saying lines and going through motions provided solely by the earl. If only there were a way she could best him, if only—

  Eliza interrupted her mental rantings to announce that a young gentleman was downstairs asking to see her.

  “He didn’t give his name, just said that you’d want to see him. He’s a nice-looking young gentleman, if you don’t mind my saying so, quite jolly too.”

  Puzzled at this, Kate quickly patted some strands of hair into place, smoothed her gown, and hurried downstairs to the drawing room.

  “Harry!” She stood poised an instant in the doorway before running into her brother’s arms. “Oh, my dear, it is so good to see you. Whatever are you doing here? I had no idea, oh, dear, it’s so good to see you.” She buried her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. At last. An ally who would help her escape.

  Harry hugged her briefly, but it was obvious he was embarrassed. “Lord, Kate, of course it’s me.”

  He firmly took her shoulders and pushed her back. He looked down into her glowing face and said cheerfully, “What looks you are in, little sister. I see that town life agrees with you. You must be cutting quite a dash. I’m proud of you.” He held her at arm’s length and critically surveyed her modish yellow-muslin gown, an appraising gleam of appreciation in his eyes.

  “Oh, the gown, it’s nothing. Of a truth, Harry, I would much prefer my breeches and my old hat.”

  “Now, old girl, stop squeezing me like an orange, you’ll ruin my new waistcoat.”

  Kate laughed and stepped back to look her brother. “Well, I say, Harry, it is you who are looking terribly smart. Those yellow stripes quite dazzle the eye.”

  Harry beamed at her. “I always knew you had good taste, my dear. Now, don’t sidetrack me. You certainly know why I’m here, you sly puss. My congratulations to you, little sister. I must say, though, I was surprised to hear from Father that you had attached the earl of March. Quite a feat, yes, indeed. How proud I am of you.” In truth, Harry had been very nearly speechless at the news. His Kate getting married, his little sister. But now as he looked down at her, he realized that she was quite beautiful, certainly lovely enough for an earl. Dressed in the height of fashion, she already looked grand enough to be a countess.

  “Father wrote you?”

  “Don’t look so surprised. Of course he did. Quite right of him to do so, you know. Come, let’s sit down. You can’t leave a guest standing in the middle of the room. I will tell you all about it, and then you must tell me how you managed to attach the earl.”

  She gritted her teeth. She gazed at her brother’s open, smiling face for a moment, bit her lower lip, and held her tongue. Neither of them talked of anything of consequence until she’d served Harry a glass of sherry and sat herself down beside him.

  “Now, Harry, tell me what our father wrote and why you are here.” Her voice was a trifle hard, but she couldn’t help it.

  “I got a letter from Father just last week. Told me in great detail how the earl wanted you to gain some town polish before your wedding.”

  Town polish. The lying, perfidious sod. She made a choking sound into her sherry.

 
“There, there, Kate. I know you must have difficulty believing your good fortune.”

  “Yes, yes, Harry, certainly, please continue. Tell me all that Father told you.”

  “I must say, Kate, the settlement the earl made to Father made my head spin. Father wrote that the earl is not only settling his debts but that he also wished to buy my colors. Lord, I never hoped for this.” She could easily picture what was in her brother’s mind. Harry astride a magnificent black charger, dressed in a dashing hussar’s uniform.

  Indeed, she was very nearly right, and Harry pulled himself away unwillingly from his delightful vision. He continued in happy ignorance, “Father also sent me some money. So I got myself rigged up and came to London. I got here just this morning.”

  “Morning? But it’s now afternoon, Harry. Why didn’t you come to see me when you arrived?” Harry as an ally, as a rescuer, was fast fading as a possibility. Damnation, did the earl think of everything? He had bought her father, and now he had made Harry’s fondest wish come true. It seemed that she was quite alone, but that was, in truth, something she was used to.

  Harry leaned over and patted her hand with brotherly affection. “Now, old girl, don’t be miffed. You must know that it was only proper that I pay my respects first to my future brother-in-law.”

  “You what?”

  “I went to see the earl,” Harry repeated with great patience. “Lord, what a mansion he has in Grosvenor Square. But of course you’ve been there, probably more times now than you can count.”

  As Kate didn’t deny this, being quite unable to fit two words together at the moment, Harry continued serenely, “You know, Kate, I was certainly wrong about his lordship. Dashed nice fellow, not at all cold or conceited or patronizing. Why, we spent quite two hours together discussing the regiment I wanted to be in and, of course, other things.”

  Harry paused and looked at his sister. She was no longer the wild hoyden, dressed in boy’s breeches, ready for any lark. She looked positively regal. He wondered at her quietness, for it was quite unlike her. But having spent the entire morning with the elegant and very charming earl of March, he decided that her silence was properly due to her modesty.

  “You’re in favor of this match, Harry?”

  “Good God, girl, do you have bats in your mental belfry?” He eyed her warily for a moment. “All right, out with it. What’s wrong with you? I’ve never known you to ask stupid questions before.”

  She saw the happy flush on her brother’s handsome face and gave her head a tiny shake. Harry would think her mad if she were now to tell him that she found the very idea of marriage to the earl abhorrent. No, more than that, frightening. And even though she didn’t understand it, it was nonetheless true. And how could she tell him? The earl had swooped down into Harry’s life and granted him his greatest wish.

  “This is deuced odd, love. I’ve never seen you succumb to womanish vapors. Lord, Kate, you will make the perfect countess. Here now, you’re not thinking you won’t be up to his weight, are you?”

  Kate clutched her hands together in her lap and gazed at her brother, the only person she loved in the world. She would not—indeed, she could not—risk losing his affection. She forced a smile. “You know I’m up to any man’s weight, Harry. Why, didn’t I kill you regularly at our early-morning duels?”

  To forestall further comments on her marriage to the earl, she said, “We go to Almack’s tonight. Will you accompany us?” She’d spoken lightly, with no real interest, but in that moment, she realized that if Harry also were to be her escort, it might perhaps lessen the impact of Julien’s presence with her.

  Harry stared incredulously at her and exclaimed in a voice of loathing, “Almack’s? Good God, what a repellent notion. It isn’t at all my style. No, don’t get all down in the mouth. I’ll come by tomorrow and we’ll go riding. The earl offered me one of his hacks. We’ll go riding in the park and rub shoulders with all the ton.”

  It was the final blow. “Oh no, you wouldn’t use one of the earl’s horses, Harry. No, surely not.”

  “Don’t be a half-wit. It’s quite proper, my dear. After all, he will be my brother-in-law in a week’s time.”

  A week’s time? By all that was holy and unholy, the earl had already set a date and announced it to her brother?

  Harry clasped her hand and exclaimed happily, “Good Lord, my hoydenish little sister a countess. You deserve it, Kate, don’t ever think you don’t. Only one more week, my dear, just one more week.”

  Kate had not yet been to King Street and she found the rows of buildings, including Almack’s, not to be as grand as she’d supposed. Almack’s had been so touted that she had half expected to see a structure as impressive as Carlton House. She had to admit, though, once they entered the enormous entrance hall filled with branches of glowing candles and lined with very superior-looking footmen, who gave the impression that they were conferring a favor by admitting guests, that she seemed indeed to be stepping into the very inner sanctum of society. As Julien divested her of her cloak, she heard strains of a waltz coming from one of the rooms that branched off the hall and wondered with a sinking feeling in her stomach how many people would be there to witness her arrival on his damned immaculate sleeve.

  She knew she looked particularly fine this evening in her high-waisted green-velvet gown that hung straight to the floor, accentuating her slender figure. The yards of green muslin were broken by rows of white Valenciennes lace delicately sewn to fit snugly under her breasts.

  She unconsciously fingered the exquisite emerald necklace with its intricate gold setting that circled her neck. It was indeed kind of Lady Bellingham, she thought, to have lent her the beautiful emerald set. There were also a bracelet and earrings. The jewels sparkled with mysterious green lights, seeming to enhance the whiteness of her skin and matching perfectly the color of her gown.

  As Julien turned back to her, she was aware of the open expression of admiration on his face, and she felt a moment of power over him. She met his gaze with a cold stare. Let him admire her as much as he wished, she thought with an elegantly indifferent shrug.

  She graciously gave him her arm, and Julien guided her and Lady Bellingham down the long hall and into a noble, high-ceilinged room where the glitter of the candles was rivaled by the sparkling gems and bright-colored apparel of the assembled company, who were dipping and bowing in the steps of a country dance. Rows of chairs covered in burgundy brocade lined stark-white walls, and were occupied for the most part, by turbaned dowagers, who formed small, chattering groups.

  It seemed to her when the portly white-haired announcer cleared his throat and called out each of their names that the music grew softer and many eyes turned in their direction. Julien leaned toward her and said close to her ear, “Well, my beautiful shrew, didn’t I tell you that you would outshine all the lovely ladies present?”

  “If I’m such a shrew, my lord, then you must be quite mad in your intentions.”

  “Oh yes, quite mad. I’ve known it for some weeks now. We’re well matched, you and I.”

  In a calculated gesture, Julien drew her arm through his and escorted both ladies to the far side of the room to the spot where the patronesses of Almack’s held their court. He realized that his party’s arrival was causing an instant sensation, as the rumors of his imminent marriage to an unknown girl from the country had provided polite society with choice conversation for the past week.

  Of the four patronesses, only the Countess Lieven and Mrs. Drummond Burrell were present this evening. The raven-haired Countess Lieven, wife to the Russian ambassador, raised her dark eyes and gazed at Kate with open curiosity. Lady Bellingham, long acquainted with both patronesses, greeted them and moved aside for Julien to present Katharine.

  Himself a favorite with both ladies for some years, Julien said with easy familiarity, “Countess, Mrs. Burrell, I would like to present Miss Katharine Brandon. She is new to London, and this is her first visit to Almack’s.”

  Kat
e repeated polite words to the Countess Lieven, who made a rather startling picture in pink satin and gauze. The countess smiled at her, not unkindly, and Kate turned to Mrs. Drummond Burrell. The lady was appraising her coldly, her hawklike nose thrust upward to a height that even Kate had not achieved. An idea burgeoned in her mind, and she executed it without further examination.

  Proffering only an infinitesimal curtsy, she observed to Mrs. Drummond Burrell in her coldest and most distant voice, “How very odd. Almack’s is not as elegant as I was led to believe.”

  Lady Bellingham froze in shocked silence and stared aghast at Katharine. She would have been thankful had the floor opened beneath her feet and dropped her into oblivion.

  Julien gave no sign of having noticed anything extraordinary in Kate’s remark and stood quite at ease waiting to see what would happen. If only she realized that he didn’t care if she insulted the Regent himself. If she created a scandal, why, he was powerful enough in society to dampen it. Or even if he wasn’t powerful enough, he didn’t care if the both of them were pariahs. Let her play her games.

  The Countess Lieven gasped aloud and darted an expectant glance at Mrs. Drummond Burrell. Mrs. Drummond Burrell, however, didn’t move a muscle in the tense moment of silence that followed.

  Kate thrust her chin higher and waited to see the result of her outrageous comment. Surely Julien must be acutely embarrassed at her behavior. Well, she would show him that she wasn’t a helpless female, a puppet to be dangled willy-nilly on his string. Perhaps he would realize that he was mistaken in her character and pack her back to the country.

  To the infinite surprise of all present, the haughty mask Mrs. Drummond Burrell presented to the world loosened and her thin lips parted in a slight smile. Reputed to be the most insufferably proud lady in London society, which indeed she was, she realized in a flash that at last she had found a kindred spirit. She dismissed the scathing set-down that had instantly come to her lips. Long used to simpering young girls and ladies of her own rank who were openly terrified of her scathing tongue, she saw with something of a shock that here was someone, indeed a mere girl, who wasn’t in the least afraid of her. A girl, in fact, who was openly provoking her.