by Jane Goodger
“My goodness,” Marjorie said, “it looks as though you’ve seen a—”
Katherine smiled and completed her sentence. “A ghost? No. I fear I’m simply starving. I just realized I haven’t eaten anything more than a scone all day. I wasn’t hungry at luncheon, and I’m paying the price now.”
“Let’s get you some sustenance. I’ll have some food brought to you straightaway as soon as the tour is completed.”
Katherine smiled weakly. “That sounds wonderful.”
A few hours later, Katherine watched as her mother got ready for dinner. She looked on with a small bit of pique as her mother’s maid dressed her hair in a new and elegant style. She looked pretty—or perhaps it was the glow of illicit love that made her so eye-catching.
“Mother,” Katherine said, “when did you meet the general?”
Her mother looked slightly taken aback. “In London, dear, soon after we arrived. You remember, he was at a luncheon at Lady Chalmsworth’s.”
Katherine wrinkled her brow, trying to remember the general at the luncheon, but unable to place him there. It had been one of their first outings, and rather brief; Katherine couldn’t imagine her mother and the general had formed any kind of attachment so quickly. It was only two weeks later that they were in Brighton, and Katherine didn’t think they’d been together then; her mother had been so ill . . .
A sudden flush filled her cheeks as she remembered their time in Brighton: her mother had claimed to be ill but had had a similar glow about her.
“Was the general in Brighton?”
Elizabeth, who had been putting on an earring, stilled, then smiled nervously. “As a matter of fact, he was.”
“Oh Mother!”
Elizabeth turned, saying, “Oh don’t ‘oh Mother’ me.”
“But you claimed you were ill. You spent all your time abed and . . .” Katherine covered her face with her hands, muttering, “Oh my God.”
“Do not take the Lord’s name in vain.”
“I’m not,” Katherine snapped. “It’s a legitimate entreaty for God to help me get this horrid image out of my head.” Katherine realized that her mother’s inattentiveness had led to her meeting with Graham. If her mother had spent time with her, had accompanied her on her walks, she never would have met him. And if she had, they would have met in far different circumstances and likely would never have spent so much time together. Her heart would not be breaking. She’d look at him with a bit of disdain, the poor titled gentleman forced to marry Claudia Von Haupt. Instead, she was being forced to watch the man she loved marry a girl she was actually becoming friends with.
“Do grow up, Katherine. I had a wonderful time.”
Katherine was tempted to tell her mother all that had happened, all that her affair had wrought. No doubt her mother, seeing an advantage, would pounce on the information and claim she’d been compromised, forcing Graham’s hand. For a fleeting moment, Katherine rather liked that idea, then immediately squashed it. She simply could not do that to Graham.
Katherine was thoughtful for a long moment and her mother went back to primping. “Mother.”
Elizabeth raised a brow, waiting for her to continue.
“What happens when you return to New York?”
Katherine met her eyes in the mirror, and to Katherine’s horror, her mother’s eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t want to think about that right now,” she said.
Katherine couldn’t bring herself to comfort her mother—she was still too upset about the entire affair—but she did feel sorry that she was suffering. She would never want her mother to be sad.
“You said Father had been having an affair for years. Certainly he would understand if you had one of your own.”
Elizabeth let out a watery laugh. “You are right. He would understand. But your father, despite all this, is very old-fashioned. He would be mortified if any one of his acquaintances knew of his affair. The two of them have been extremely careful because they both love their families, their lives. I know it seems as if I’m being too understanding. Perhaps I am. But I’ve had years to come to this understanding. And it’s not as if I’m in love with your father. I’m not and probably never was. If I had been, it would have been intolerable. We are great friends, Katherine, and very aware of our place in society. Our worlds would fall apart if they publically proclaimed their love for one another.”
“So you are not leaving Father?”
Elizabeth shook her head sadly. “No. I could never do that to him. A divorce is out of the question. And why should we, anyway? It’s not as if either of us is unhappy.”
“But you will be once you return to New York and the general is still in England.”
Elizabeth smiled. “We live in a wonderful age, my dear. An age when one can travel across the ocean in a matter of days. We will not be apart for long. And as long as we are discreet, I can be very happy.”
“I think it’s taking an awful chance,” Katherine said, still hating the idea of her mother cavorting with another man. “Will it be enough?”
“It must be.” Elizabeth patted her hair. “Now, my dear, it is time for you to get ready. My goodness, I just realized you’re not dressed. What gown are you wearing?”
“I thought the green velvet. It’s quite chilly this evening.” Elizabeth smiled. “I approve. It does bring out the green in your eyes. Now hurry.”
Katherine left her mother to get ready. Her hair was already done—or rather it was good enough for a simple dinner—so it was only a matter of changing her dress, and Clara was a wizard at fast changes. As she walked to her rooms, Katherine wondered if she could truly be happy with a life such as her mother was leading. What if she married a man she didn’t love? And what if one day she met up with Graham and he was equally unhappy? Would they engage in an affair? Could she possibly justify it the way her mother had?
When she reached her room, Clara was in a tizzy. “Where have you been, miss? We’ve only ten minutes to get you ready.”
Katherine waved a hand. “It’s all right, Clara. My hair is fine and we only need to change gowns.”
“And underthings and jewelry and gloves and shoes.”
“I’m wearing the green velvet, so I believe my underthings are fine,” Katherine said on a laugh.
Clara eyed her critically, then nodded. “You’re right. That corset will do nicely for the cut of that gown, though I may have to tighten it up a bit. That gown fits you like a glove, miss.”
Katherine wrinkled her nose at the thought of her stays being pulled tighter, but Clara was right. She likely wouldn’t be able to fit into that gown, at least not properly, with her stays so loose.
“Do what you must, Clara. And don’t worry if we’re a bit late. I don’t want to go down anyway.”
Clara gave her a knowing look. “I heard Lord Avonleigh is here?”
“Yes, he is. I was hoping he would forego this party, but alas, he is here and I will have to face him.”
Katherine couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking at the moment. No doubt he knew she was here. She simply couldn’t get his last words to her out of her head.
Graham eyed his form critically. It seemed his waistcoat was a tad looser than it had been not two weeks before. His trousers, too.
“Mr. Chase, I do believe I’m shrinking,” Graham said.
“I find that does happen when one does not eat.”
Graham frowned at his reflection. Since the Haversly party, he’d been working rather nonstop. Despite his lack of funds, he was able to buy materials and equipment on credit, thanks to his engagement. Men had already begun work on the Blackshires’ cottage, and they would be able to move back to their home in a matter of weeks. And a good thing, too, for Mrs. Blackshire was expecting her first child.
He remembered Cook bringing him food, but he couldn’t remember a single meal.
“I need a haircut, Chase,” he said, frowning at the circles beneath his eyes. “And a good night’s re
st.”
His time at Flintwood had done little to remedy that, for he and John had stayed up late nights with his father, much to Lady Willington’s distress. No doubt she had been glad to see him ride away.
The time spent at Flintwood had been interesting, to say the least. He watched with a mixture of awe and envy how John dealt with his four young children. They adored their father, falling over themselves to be with him. And the man had absolutely no dignity when it came to his offspring, getting down on all fours and pretending to be an African lion. Graham couldn’t imagine himself doing the same. Perhaps he could if he had a wife like Melissa, gazing at him as if the sun rose on his shoulders as he played with his children. For the life of him, he could not imagine Claudia doing the same. The idea was so foreign to him. He could hardly imagine Claudia naked beneath him, her mouth opened slightly in pleasure. Whenever he tried to conjure such an image—and he did try—she always turned into Katherine, with her red-gold hair spilled over the pillow while he brought her to ecstasy. Claudia stiffened just slightly whenever he touched her, and he hadn’t even dared a kiss but on the hand. Truth be told, he didn’t even want to kiss her.
And, he told himself with brutal finality, he did not want to kiss Katherine, either. He’d not seen her in nearly three weeks, and although he’d thought his obsession with her would have lessened to a far greater degree, he was pleased that the odd pressing pain in his chest had diminished considerably. He’d yet to see Claudia, and realized he wasn’t looking forward to seeing her, but certainly wasn’t dreading the encounter, either. Her mother was far more pleasant to him now that the marriage contract had been signed, and her father was in London and wouldn’t be around to make him feel like a beggar. The interview with him had been humiliating; if not for the pressing problems at his estates, he would have walked from the room. He felt like a green boy being given an allowance by an overbearing father. The man actually had the audacity to point out that all funds would be immediately withdrawn if any large expenditures were made without prior consent.
“My daughter complains there is no ballroom at Bryant Park,” he’d said, and Graham’s stomach had churned.
“There is a ballroom, sir, but it is rather small. However, I’ve no plans for any large parties there at any rate. Country balls are so tiresome, are they not? I thought I’d reserve the large parties for when we are in Town.” He had no London town house, as that had been sold long ago, but he would ensure any rented space would accommodate a large ball.
“My daughter was quite adamant,” Mr. Von Haupt had said, but Graham stood firm.
“I’m afraid I will not budge on this point, sir.” Graham swallowed, and watched the older man mull this over, his hand dangling over the contract that would mean his estate’s salvation. And then he’d signed, and thrust the paper toward him.
He’d felt soiled by the entire ordeal. He wondered how his tenants would have felt to see him brought down so low. No doubt they would have counseled him to walk away and to hell with the estate.
It was a pure wonder how two such disagreeable but intelligent people had produced such a scattered-brained, flighty daughter.
“Sir?” Mr. Chase asked, pulling him out of his unpleasant remembrances.
“Yes, Mr. Chase.”
“I’ve gotten a letter from Mrs. Alcourt. She reports they’ve started to interview for two new footmen, a cook’s assistant, and four new maids. Everyone is quite excited about the changes to come.”
Graham should have been just as excited, but all he felt was profoundly depressed. “I’m glad. It’s been too long without some good news, eh?”
“Yes sir. And one more thing, sir.” Mr. Chase took a bracing breath. “When I was downstairs eating luncheon, I recognized a maid I’d seen before. At the Lord and Lady Haverslys’, sir.”
Graham lowered his head as if a large weight had suddenly been attached to his chin. “Oh?”
“It was Miss Wright’s maid, sir.”
Graham closed his eyes briefly. “Thank you, Mr. Chase.” He wiped a hand through his hair. He didn’t know if he could face her without showing what was in his heart. He must. It would be cruel to both of them to offer even a bit of hope.
“Would you like to read the letter from Mrs. Alcourt, my lord?” Mr. Chase stood there, his eyes steady, silently admonishing him to forget Miss Wright for the sake of his people. He didn’t need the old man to tell him his duty—but he found himself grateful for the reminder just the same.
He hesitated just a moment before holding out his hand to take the letter, and Mr. Chase visibly relaxed. “You needn’t worry so, Chase. I am marrying Miss Von Haupt.”
“I know, sir, but it doesn’t hurt to be reminded about why now and again. Especially with Miss Wright here.” Mr. Chase paused for a bit. “I know your heart was engaged, sir, but I do believe this is for the best.”
“I know you do, Chase.”
That answer didn’t seem to sit well with the valet, but he remained silent.
Chapter 11
As he walked down the wide, stone staircase that led to the massive dining hall, Graham found himself profoundly grateful Mr. Chase had warned him about Miss Wright’s presence. Had he not been prepared, the shot to his gut when he saw her no doubt would have been far more extreme. As it was, it took all his discipline not to stare at her like some wounded schoolboy with a fatal crush. My God, she was beautiful. She stood in profile to him, and he could make out the lovely shape of her jaw, the sweet curves of her form, as she chatted with Lady Marjorie and Miss Von Haupt. Her hair was piled atop her head in an artless fashion that allowed a few curling tendrils to trail down her back. He forced himself to look away, and spied his friend Lord Willington and his wife, Melissa. If Mr. Norris was here, it would have been a reunion of sorts. The last time they’d all been together, John had invited Norris and him to get a look at Melissa as a potential bride. The idiot was already in love with Melissa when he’d made the invitation, something that had been immediately obviously to Graham.
He walked directly to the couple. Lady Willington was already showing just the tiniest rounded belly, indicating she was carrying her fifth child.
“I can’t believe you left Flintwood to come to this drafty old place,” Graham said.
Melissa turned and smiled at him, holding out her hands in genuine welcome. Over the years, he’d gotten rather close to the couple, and would visit often. “Oh, I’m hoping to see the famous Abbey ghost. I fear I couldn’t resist the chance. And the children adore playing with their cousins.”
Lady Braddock, much to Lord Braddock’s feigned horror, had produced three children within the first three years of their marriage. When Lord Willington was visiting his father, the household was utter chaos, with seven tiny lords and ladies running about. Oddly, Graham had found all those children and their nonstop chatter rather wonderful during his visit. The older children had put on a play, directed by Lady Willington, charming all the adults in attendance.
“I understand your betrothed is here,” Melissa said. “When do we get to meet her?”
“Very soon. She’s over by the fireplace chatting with some friends.”
“Before I say this,” said John, “I would like to preface it by letting you know, darling, that I believe you are the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. But is that stunning girl in green your fiancée, Avon?”
Graham knew immediately he was talking about Katherine. “No, the blond girl is my fiancée, Miss Claudia Von Haupt. The other one is Miss Katherine Wright, also of New York, whom I met in Brighton. And you know, of course, Lady Marjorie, do you not?”
John looked a bit sharply at Graham. “Is that the Brighton girl?” John said, rather too loudly, for the object of their discussion turned her head their way.
“Who’s the Brighton girl?” Melissa asked, confused.
Oh damn. Graham had forgotten that he’d mentioned meeting a girl in Brighton. Good God, he’d even talked of wanting to make her his mistres
s. “Yes, but at the time I didn’t realize who she was.” He gave John a pointed look meant to shut him up.
“You were rather smitten with that girl, if I remember.” Of course John would ignore his entreaty. “And it turns out she was an American heiress?” John burst out laughing, much to Graham’s disgust.
“Who is the Brighton girl?” Melissa asked again.
“I am.”
All three turned guiltily to find the lovely object of their conversation standing just outside their group. Behind her were Miss Von Haupt and Lady Marjorie, curiously looking on.
“Ah, Miss Wright, Miss Von Haupt, let me introduce Lord and Lady Willington. I believe, Lady Marjorie, you are already acquainted with the viscount and viscountess?”
“Yes,” said Marjorie. “A pleasure to see you again. How are your children?”
“Well,” Melissa said. “They very much enjoy visiting Flintwood.”
Graham felt as if his right side was on fire, for Katherine stood next to him, silent, a pleasant smile on her face. He turned his head just slightly and took a deep, careful breath, hoping to catch her subtle floral scent.
“And this is your betrothed?” prompted Melissa.
Guiltily, Graham held out his hand to Claudia, forcing Katherine to step aside to make room. Katherine had yet to meet his eyes, but kept smiling at Lord and Lady Willington. “Yes, Miss Von Haupt is my betrothed.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Katherine look sharply away at his words of introduction.
“And when is the date? Will you be married here?”
“Oh no,” Claudia said. “We’re getting married in New York. At Trinity. It’s my hope to live in New York as much as possible. Father bought a small house on Fifth Avenue right next to theirs and he plans to tear it down and build a grander one for us. It’s our wedding present.”
Graham felt the breath leave his lungs and he looked at Claudia, stunned.
John laughed. “I take it you didn’t know about this wedding gift?”
