by Jane Goodger
When Graham saw who was next, he paused for a fraction of a second before continuing on. Katherine wanted to applaud his performance.
“Congratulations, Lord Avonleigh,” her mother gushed. “Have you set a date?”
He bowed and Katherine clenched her teeth so tightly, her jaw ached. She could not do it. She could not congratulate him on his engagement when every part of her wanted to scream and shake him and kiss him. Oh God, how could she think such things, even now?
“Thank you, Mrs. Wright, and no, we have not set a date.” He glanced at Katherine, who had plastered a pleasant smile on her face. She wondered if this particular smile would be permanently affixed to her, as it was taking such a grand effort to make it.
“Congratulations,” she said, and was horrified when her throat closed up slightly at the last syllable. She prayed he would not notice. She needn’t worry about her mother, who was again distracted by the general, who was waving her over.
When she was gone, Graham said, his voice low, “I need to speak with you.”
“We have nothing to say, Lord Avonleigh.”
“I need to know if you, if your heart, was at all engaged.”
Her eyes filled immediately, and Katherine desperately looked for an escape. She turned then walked through the doors to the hallway, knowing he would follow and uncertain whether she wanted him to or not. By the time she turned to him, she had gained control of herself, and it was as if she’d never felt any emotion other than annoyance.
“My heart was as engaged as yours. Obviously.”
“What is that supposed to mean? You cannot know how difficult this has been.”
Katherine looked at him incredulously. “You just announced your engagement to another woman. And you say it has been difficult for you?”
Just then, Claudia, no doubt pushed out the door by her mother, rushed into the hall, pulling up sharply when she found them standing within a few feet of her.
“My, I do hope you’re not trying to steal away Graham,” she said, her laughter as false as her smile. She darted a look to her mother, who was just visible through the door. Katherine nearly laughed at the look on her face. Poor Claudia was likely sent out here posthaste and told to claim her fiancé.
“Your marquess is quite safe from me, Miss Von Haupt. I’m afraid I haven’t the funds to purchase him.”
That little crease appeared again between Claudia’s eyes, as if she was confused by Katherine’s hostility. She turned toward Graham, laying a gloved hand on his arm. Katherine felt like vomiting. “I do apologize for Katherine’s remarks, for it is clear she will not,” Claudia said.
Katherine glanced from one to the other. Claudia looked slightly angry, but Graham, he looked completely unaffected, as if they were standing there chatting about the price of livestock.
She turned and started to walk away, then stopped and turned slowly. “There is no need for you to apologize for me, Miss Von Haupt. I’ll apologize for myself when it’s warranted.”
Katherine heard Claudia’s slight gasp, the low murmur of Graham’s voice, no doubt consoling his fiancée, and made it as far as the top of the stairs before the first tear fell. Then she ran the rest of the way down the hall to her room, flew through the door, and threw herself onto her bed, sobbing. Clara was there in an instant, holding her and muttering all kinds of nonsense to her in an effort to calm her down.
“It was dreadful,” Katherine said, her voice watery from tears. “He stood there and announced their engagement as if... as if I were nothing and then . . .” She sniffed loudly, then blew her nose into the handkerchief Clara proffered. “Then he actually asked if my heart had been engaged. My heart,” she said, clutching her hands above that very organ.
“A cad,” Clara said definitively.
Katherine nodded, but was soon shaking her head in denial. “He’s not a cad. He’s just stupid. Stupid and blind and I hope he’s miserable with her.” She blew her nose again.
“He will be.”
“No, I don’t hope that. That’s an awful thing to hope. I hope he’s happy. I hope . . .” And she dissolved into tears again. Once she’d regained control, she sat there forlornly, clutching the soggy handkerchief in her fist. “Would you like to know the worst part of all of this?”
“Of course.”
“The worst part is that no one knew. No one will ever know how much I loved him—not even him. I can’t tell anyone. Even Marjorie doesn’t know. I had to pretend that everything was fine, that I was just as happy to marry someone else, when”—she stopped and swallowed heavily—“when I truly wanted to marry him. I couldn’t even admit it to myself until just now.”
“I know, miss.”
Katherine hugged Clara again. “Thank goodness for you, Clara. I think I might have drowned in tears if you hadn’t been here.”
“What a silly goose you are,” Clara said fondly. “There’ll be no drowning, and we’ll try not to have too many more tears. They make your complexion all blotchy.”
Katherine let out a watery laugh. “I just know I’ll wake up with swollen eyes in the morning.”
“If you do, I’ll make your excuses. Don’t you worry about a thing.”
Katherine spent the next day writing letters to friends back home. She knew they were mostly envious of her trip and would never believe that she only wanted to return home to her old life. Everything was going wrong. She’d fallen in love with the wrong man, her mother was probably having an affair, and her eyes were still red and puffy even at eleven in the morning.
Her mother hadn’t even checked in on her. No doubt she was gallivanting about with the general doing God knew what. Katherine didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to think about anything. So she wrote letter after letter describing a party that would probably make her friends sick with envy and never once even hinted that she was miserable. She kept all tears at bay until she wrote to her sister, but the feeling of homesickness was nearly overwhelming and she let out a few tears before angrily dashing them away.
She was quite certain Graham was not wallowing in self-pity. He was probably living it up downstairs, playing billiards or cards or perhaps taking a walk with Claudia. He probably hadn’t spared her a single thought. Her letter was ruined, for a tear had landed directly on a bit of ink that had yet to dry and expanded and obliterated the word home. It was almost an evil omen, that word marred and distorted, so she crumpled up the paper and decided to write to her sister later when she wasn’t quite so upset.
Looking in the mirror, Katherine decided she didn’t look as if she’d been crying, and smiled. Funny, how simply the act of smiling made her feel better. She would not wallow in self-pity one minute more. As Clara had said so correctly the night before, if this was the worst thing ever to happen in her life, then she would have a very happy one.
Of course, she hadn’t counted on her stomach dropping to her slippers when she heard Graham’s voice as she descended the stairs. She wasn’t quite ready to face him, but face him she would, for he stood there talking with that Norris fellow. At least Claudia was nowhere in sight. She was probably already off to Paris to order her wedding gown.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Katherine said, proud that her voice sounded pleasant.
They both turned, and Katherine got a small bit of gratification from the admiration in Norris’s eyes—and perhaps even more gratification from the scowl on Graham’s face.
“Ah, Miss Wright,” Mr. Norris said. “A few of us are going to watch the All-England Eleven play against the North. You should join us.”
“Should I?” Katherine asked on a laugh. “What is the All-England Eleven? You can’t expect me to make a decision if I haven’t an idea what you are talking about.”
Mr. Norris looked shocked. “Cricket.”
“You’re watching insects?” she asked with a furrowed brow.
“Insects!”
Katherine pressed her lips together to stop from smiling. “She’s joking with
you, Norris,” Graham said with no small amount of impatience. My, he seemed in a rare ill temper this day.
“I hate to disappoint you, sir, but I have seen cricket matches and I have to admit I find the game quite difficult to follow as compared to American baseball.”
“Quite understood, but you should go. Or rather, will you? Avonleigh used to be quite the cricket player back in our school days. He is a fan of the North, you see. I was hoping to persuade you to my side.”
Katherine smiled, wondering if he meant the double entendre. “I believe I’ll have to stay neutral, sir, if you don’t mind. One mustn’t get emotional about something that will have absolutely no consequence to one’s future.”
Charles laughed and Graham remained stone-faced, for Katherine had no doubt he did understand her double entendre.
“Quite true, Miss Wright.”
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Graham said. “The carriage is full as it is.”
“Then she’ll simply have to ride with me,” Charles said cheerfully. “Lady and Lord Haversly are sharing, and there’s room for one more.”
“She doesn’t like cricket,” Graham said, very nearly sounding petulant, and Katherine smiled.
“Perhaps I shall have to learn to like it,” she said, noticing with no small amount of pleasure that Graham’s nostrils flared ever so slightly in displeasure. He didn’t like her flirting with Norris, it was obvious. How dare he! He’d announced his engagement to another woman the night before and he had the audacity to be miffed with a bit of innocent flirtation?
“I’ll only go if you promise to explain the intricacies of the game,” she said, all charm. Katherine could flirt with the best of them when she put her mind to it. “I daresay if everyone in England is so mad about the sport, it must have some positive attributes.”
Graham shoved his hands into his pockets and turned slightly away, his jaw tense, and Katherine felt a small slice of pain at the gesture. She was hurting him. She hadn’t truly known she could.
“Will your mother and the general be joining us, or will they find their own entertainments?” Graham asked, so blasé, so carelessly, that Katherine had to stifle a gasp. All tender feelings were immediately wiped away. She couldn’t even bring herself to respond. And when he turned to look at her, a slow movement of his head as if he were completely unaware of the dagger he’d just thrown, Katherine didn’t have the fortitude to hide the hurt.
He had the good grace to look down, and she wondered if there was a small, tender part of him that felt slightly ashamed. Probably not.
“Ah, there are Lord and Lady Haversly now,” Charles said, moving toward the couple, leaving Katherine standing awkwardly near Graham.
“Sometimes,” Graham said, his voice low, “when a thing, an animal or perhaps . . . a man, is experiencing terrible pain, it lashes out unthinkingly. And cruelly.”
There it was, back in full force, that awful pain in her throat. All she could manage was a quick shake of her head, a silent plea for him to stop. She suddenly wished he would be mean to her; it was far easier to take.
He took a step closer, so that he was by her side, but facing opposite her. “Don’t think for one minute that I am not suffering. I am.” And then he stepped away, greeting the older couple, leaving Katherine swaying slightly from the devastation he’d left in his wake.
Mr. Norris had been all patience trying to explain the game of cricket, and by the end of the interminable match won by the All-England Eleven, Katherine had a slightly better understanding of cricket. But she continued to be baffled by the excitement it generated in the crowd—that was until Mr. Norris pointed out that the game was made far more interesting when there were bets on the table.
During the entire match, Graham sat stone-faced and silent, and Katherine wasn’t certain whether it was because of her or because his team was being badly beaten. Mr. Norris, of course, fully believed Graham’s sour mood was due to the North Eleven’s poor showing. Katherine did learn one thing, however. She didn’t believe she could marry Mr. Norris. He was too raucous, too rough around the edges. Each time he turned to speak with her, he bumped her, as if unaware of how large he was. She noticed he’d jostled Graham several times, as well. He was like a six-month-old puppy, appearing to be a grown dog but frolicking about, crashing into things in its enthusiasm.
Halfway through the match, she excused herself to sit next to Marjorie and her friend’s mother and brother, leaving Graham and Charles alone.
“You’re in a foul mood for a man who’s just announced his engagement to a lovely heiress,” Charles said when Katherine had gone.
“I have much on my mind of late,” Graham said, forcing himself not to follow Katherine with his eyes as Charles was doing.
“What do you think of Miss Wright?”
“I don’t.”
“Good. Because I have been doing quite a bit of thinking about her. My mother would likely skin me alive if I married an American girl, but she just might be worth it.”
Graham was so tense, his muscles began to ache. “She wants a title,” he said.
“Don’t they all? But perhaps I can persuade her that a mister would do just as well. I’m not a pauper, after all. No offense.”
Most men would have quaked under the look Graham gave Charles, but the fool simply smiled.
“Leave off,” Graham snapped.
Charles gave him a look of mock confusion. “Leave off talking about finances? Or Miss Wright?”
Graham could feel his blood nearly come to a boil, and he fought it, fought it with every part of his being. He could feel Charles staring at him, studying him. Almost as if his eyes had a will of their own, he sought out Katherine. Hell, how could he let her go? “Just leave off.”
Even Graham could hear the hostility in his tone. He might as well put a sign on Katherine that said “Property of Graham Spencer.”
Charles narrowed his eyes. “That’s just it, Avon, I wasn’t asking permission. But I’ll be damned if I give my heart to another girl whose heart is engaged elsewhere. Once in a lifetime is enough, thank you very much.”
“Still smarting over the countess, are you?”
“Only my pride at this point,” Charles said easily.
Graham stared at the back of Katherine’s head. “If you plan to court Miss Wright in earnest, please do so out of my sight, will you?”
“I find that an odd request for a man who is about to marry a very beautiful and very wealthy woman.” Then Charles looked at Graham, surprise in his expression. He leaned in closer before saying, “Is your heart engaged, as well?”
It took Graham a long moment before he could answer. “It is.” Charles drew back in surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned. The mighty Avonleigh has finally fallen.”
Graham let out a puff of impatience. “Perhaps you don’t remember; you were so gone over Miss Stanhope, you were oblivious to what was happening under your very nose. But I remember Willington was sick with it. I remember thinking what a fool he was, not only to fall in love, but more to let a woman he loved marry another.”
Charles shook his head slightly. “Holy hell, Avon. Why marry someone else, then? Why not succumb like Willington did?”
“Why do you think?” he snapped. “Do you think I would allow another man even to look at her if I had a choice? My estate is in a shambles and I’ve no way out. Five generations. I will not be the one who allows it to fall to ruin.”
“You always took your duties too seriously,” Charles said, then drew sharply back at the look Graham shot him.
“It is easy for a second son to say such a thing. You have no responsibilities. No one depends upon you for their livelihood. If you fail, hundreds of families will not suffer. If you fail, a legacy of more than two hundred years will not crumble.”
Charles looked close to murder; then his features softened. “I apologize, Avon. I just hope to hell she understands your sacrifice. And I hope Miss Von Haupt never does.”
/> Chapter 10
“Well, that was a marvelous house party,” Elizabeth said shortly after they’d entered the carriage. “One can only hope Lord and Lady Wrentham are as gracious. I’m certain they will be. Everyone has been so welcoming.”
“Especially General Lawton,” Katherine said, unable to help herself. She was miserable, the house party a pure disaster, and her mother’s cheerfulness was more than grating. Next to her, her mother stiffened, but remained silent, all but confirming to Katherine that she was, indeed, carrying on with the general. The entire thing made her angry, for she loved her mother and actually liked the general. But she loathed what they were doing. If anything, it only made her more resolved never to marry.
They rode in silence for nearly an hour, Katherine looking morosely out the window, her mother trying unsuccessfully to read a book in the jostling carriage.
“Your father and I never loved one another.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Nevertheless, you’re going to listen. I was sixteen when we married. Sixteen. A child. I vowed I would never do that to my daughter and I will not. Which is why you are nearly twenty-one and still unmarried. I was excited, yes, and felt so very grown up.”
Katherine let out a beleaguered sigh but remained silent.
“Your father was older than I, of course. And very much in love with another girl. But she was engaged to be married, and did marry in the end. That did not stop them from loving one another.” Her mother looked at her. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Katherine felt as if her entire world were spinning backward. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you are judging me and you should not. For the first time in my life, I feel loved. I’m forty-three years old, Katherine, and in love for the first time.”
Katherine swallowed down the lump that had been growing in her throat for the past few days.
“Over the years, my resentment and anger have disappeared, but when I was young I still held hope for us.” She shook her head. “I think I understand now more than ever what your father went through, and I feel sorry for him. He is a good man. He simply had the misfortune of loving the wrong woman. I think he did try. I know he did. He’s been a good father, a good provider. He sent us on this trip to secure your future and raise our status in society. I do love your father. We are great friends, Katherine.”
