The Rebellious Ward

by Joan Wolf

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The next morning the Duke of Burford was joined for his early-morning ride by both the Earl and the Countess of Lochaber. “This is a pleasant surprise,” he said to Frances with a charming smile.

  “I’m afraid you must think me dreadfully lazy,” she returned, “but at home I’m regularly up at seven, I assure you. I’ve just been taking a little vacation lately.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Tell that to Ian,” she said and put a hand on her husband’s arm as he sat his horse next to hers. “He routed me out mercilessly this morning.”

  Her fingers pressed meaningfully into her husband’s hard forearm, and Ian shot her a long look out of inscrutable eyes. “An early ride will be good for you,” he said blandly, and she removed her hand.

  “I’m sure you’re right.” She smiled sweetly, ignoring her husband’s speculative look, and allowed her horse to move forward. The two men followed.

  Frances enjoyed the ride very much. She also enjoyed the agricultural talk and to Edmund’s surprise she proved very knowledgeable. Despite Ian’s testimonial, he had had little faith that her knowledge was more than superficial.

  Her chance came when they dismounted by one of the sheep pastures. Ian wanted to look more closely at the duke’s breed, and they all started off on foot, Frances moving as swiftly and easily as the men. Halfway across the pasture she stopped.

  “I’m tired,” she complained softly. “Ian, you go ahead and look at the sheep. I’ll stay here and wait. Perhaps you would stay with me, Your Grace.” She gave Edmund a rueful smile. “Ian doesn’t need anyone to explain sheep to him, you know.”

  Both men stared at her suspiciously. She didn’t look remotely tired. She stared limpidly back, and her husband suddenly grinned.

  “All right, sweetheart,” he said, “have it your way.” He turned to move off across the pasture. “I wondered why you wanted to get up so early,” he added wickedly over his shoulder as he went.

  Frances chuckled, a delicious, deep gurgling sound. “Wretch,” she said to her husband’s departing back. Then she turned to the duke.

  Edmund was not smiling. He also appeared totally unmoved by the sight of her in the brilliant early-morning sunshine. Frances found this very reassuring.

  “I want to talk to you about Catriona,” she said.

  His face went very still. “Oh?”

  “Yes. You simply must not allow her to marry Lord Hampton.”

  “I see.” He looked across the field to where Ian had finally joined up with the sheep. “And why not, Lady Lochaber?”

  “Well, she is only getting married because she feels it is what you want,” Frances said candidly. “And I can’t help but feel that it will be a very great mistake.”

  “What I want?” echoed Edmund, astonished. “If I did anything, it was to discourage her from becoming engaged to Hampton. He is so much older and more sophisticated than she.”

  “You see, she feels she is in your way,” Frances explained sadly. “She feels she has to get married, that you expect it of her, and she likes Lord Hampton better than anyone else she met in London.”

  “That’s simply not true.” Edmund’s voice was very controlled. “My grandmother adores Catriona. She would be happy to have her remain at Evesham forever.”

  “Perhaps.” Frances regarded him thoughtfully. “But Catriona told me also that she simply could not live in the same house as you once you were married.”

  There was a pinched look about Edmund’s aristocratic nostrils. “Why not?” he asked tensely.

  Frances looked across the field toward her husband. “Would you like to live with Catriona and her husband?” she asked him back.

  The silence next to her was deafening. Frances kept her eyes on the tall, dark man who was now intently regarding the duke’s sheep. “I fell in love with Ian when I was twelve years old,” she said softly, almost to herself. “I’ve never loved anyone else. But I made the mistake Catriona will make if she marries Lord Hampton.” She tilted her beautiful face to look at him. “Don’t let her do that. Your Grace.”

  Edmund stared at her, and all his cool reserve had vanished. “Are you telling me ...” he began and then broke off.

  “Yes,” said Frances simply. “I am.”

  For a long moment Edmund didn’t speak. “Would you mind if I left you and Ian, Lady Lochaber? I’d like to get back to the Castle right away.”

  Frances smiled warmly. “Go right ahead, Your Grace. We know our way home.”

  * * * *

  “Where the devil is Burford going?” Ian asked his wife as he came up to her a few minutes later.

  “He just remembered an urgent errand,” Frances answered serenely. Ian didn’t say anything. He just regarded her in silence, waiting. She chuckled. “Oh, all right. I told him that Catriona doesn’t want to marry Lord Hampton, that she’s in love with him.”

  “Good God,” said Ian. “Are you sure of that?”

  “Of course. And what’s more, the duke is in love with her. Only both of them were afraid to tell the other. A little outside intervention was clearly called for.”

  Ian looked sardonic. “This is beginning to sound like something out of a very bad play. I hope the devil you’re right, Frances. It isn’t safe to go meddling in other people’s lives.”

  Her back was very straight. “I knew it. I knew you’d say that. I told Catriona you would. I am not meddling, Ian. I am doing both of them a great service.”

  Her husband gave an eloquent snort. “All right, I gather Catriona told you how she feels. But how do you know about Burford? You scarcely know him, for God’s sake. And he seems damned interested in that blond iceberg we met in London.”

  Frances glared. “I know how the duke feels because George Talbot told me last night that Catriona was the only person who could make Burford lose his temper.”

  “Christ,” he said. “And because of that totally inane piece of information you have interfered in the lives of two people you scarcely know?”

  “Ian Macdonald”—Frances’s eyes were greener than the grass that surrounded them—”you are the most colossally stupid and insensitive man I have ever met.” And she turned and stalked away toward the horses.

  The thick grass muffled her husband’s footsteps, and she didn’t know he was behind her until his hands encircled her waist. “All right, sweetheart,” he said and swung her up into his arms. “I understand.”

  Frances’s eyes softened to sea-green, and she put her arms around his neck. “You should,” she said softly.

  He began to walk toward the horses, still carrying her easily. “It’s time we were getting home,” he said. “I’m tired of other people’s houses.” His dark face was very grave as he looked down at her. “I’m tired of sharing you with half the world.”

  “Mmm,” said Frances. “And I miss my baby.” She kissed the strong line of jaw that was close to her face. “We can go down to Aysgarth tomorrow and get Nell.”

  His arms tightened. “Let’s do that.”

  “All right.” And she laid her head on his shoulder.

  * * * *

  Edmund asked for Catriona the minute he walked into the house. She was still in her room, he was told. It was, after all, only ten o’clock in the morning.

  “Will you have someone ask her to come to the library as soon as it is convenient?” he told his butler. “I will be waiting.”

  “Very good, Your Grace,” Hutchins replied and went off to tell a maid to relay the message to Miss Catriona.

  It was almost half an hour before Catriona appeared in the doorway of the library. “You wanted to see me, Edmund?” she asked nervously. She was certain he was going to insist that she tell Richard right away, and she quailed at the thought.

  “Yes. Come in and close the door, Catriona.”

  He sounded grimmer and grimmer. She closed the door carefully and advanced into the room. “W-what did you want to see me about?”

  “
I want you to tell me honestly why you agreed to marry Hampton in the first place,” he said.

  She stared at him in bewilderment. “I thought I loved him,” she said faintly.

  There was a glimmer in his gray eyes that caught and held her own. Her heart lurched and then began to slam in her chest. “Not according to Lady Lochaber,” he said.

  “You’ve been talking to Frances?” she murmured in wonder. The look she had seen on his face yesterday at the lake was back. “Edmund,” she said. He stepped closer, and her lips parted. She gazed up at him with her heart in her eyes. “Edmund.” And then she was in his arms.

  Every fiber of her being responded to his kiss. Her arms around his neck, she arched against him, drowning in the sensations his touch awoke in her. She didn’t surface until he bent so that her feet touched the ground again and then stepped back from her a little.

  “Almighty God,” he said. “I can quite see why Hampton wanted to put forward the wedding date.” His voice was unsteady, his eyes midnight-black.

  Catriona laughed softly and dizzily. “Oh, Edmund,” she said. “I love you so much.”

  “I didn’t know.” His long fingers traced the line of her cheekbone with delicate precision. “I thought you regarded me as a big brother and I have been trying for months quite desperately to keep you from seeing that my own feelings were not brotherly at all.”

  “Well, you succeeded only too well.” She flashed a brilliant smile. “I’ve been utterly miserable. I thought you loved Sophia Heatherstone.”

  “I was trying to cloud the waters.” He looked down into her upturned face. “I’ve been in love with you since you were ten years old. Isn’t that a disgraceful thing to admit? Only I didn’t realize it until I returned from France in November. You threw yourself into my arms, and it hit me then quite catastrophically that you weren’t a little girl any more. I wanted never to let you go.”

  She laughed. “So that was why you froze up so and seemed to go away from me. I couldn’t imagine what I had done to offend you.”

  “Offend me?” He smiled a little bitterly. “It was I who offended you, sweetheart. I was beastly to you at Christmas, I know that. But you see, I was so terribly jealous.”

  Catriona’s eyes were wide with wonder. Edmund had been jealous of her! So that was why he had been so nasty about George and about Richard. “I wanted to scratch out Sophia Heatherstone’s eyes,” she admitted. “I got engaged to Richard because I knew I couldn’t bear to live in the same house with you once you belonged to another woman. And Richard doesn’t live too close to Evesham. I wouldn’t have had to see you very often.” She heaved a sigh. “Oh, Edmund, I’ve been so terribly, terribly unhappy!”

  His arms came around her again, and she was pulled hard against his chest. “You’re never going to be unhappy again. I’m going to see to that.” He sounded fierce.

  Catriona closed her eyes, melting into his embrace, her mouth soft and responsive under his.

  “I appear to be interrupting,” came a voice behind her, and Catriona felt Edmund stiffen. It was a few seconds before she recognized the marquis’s voice. She froze and then in abject cowardice turned her face into Edmund’s shoulder and left him to handle it.

  Edmund kept an arm firmly around her and looked at the marquis over her head. “I am very sorry, Hampton,” he said calmly, pleasantly, and finally, “but Catriona cannot marry you.”

  “So it seems.” The marquis sounded very angry. “For how long, may I ask, has this been going on?”

  “Catriona and I have loved each other for a very long time.” Edmund’s voice sounded very collected. Only Catriona, who could hear his heart hammering against her cheek, had any idea that he was not as composed as he seemed. “However, we were neither of us aware of the other’s feelings. We have, as you see, just discovered the truth.”

  Catriona raised her head. “It’s true, Richard,” she said. “I’ve always loved Edmund but I didn’t think he loved me back.” She looked up at the duke for a fleeting minute and then turned her eyes to Lord Hampton. “I am most terribly sorry,” she said. “I have behaved very badly toward you.”

  “I love you,” he said.

  “I know.” Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I do like you so very much, you see. And I was going to be a good wife to you. At least believe that of me.”

  He didn’t say anything for a minute but stood surveying the two of them. He was very pale, and his cheekbones seemed more prominent than usual under his pallid skin. “I always knew there was someone else,” he said unexpectedly to the duke. “But I never dreamed it was you.”

  “Neither did I,” returned Edmund gravely and very gently released Catriona.

  “I’ll be leaving then,” said Lord Hampton. “You’ll handle the announcements?”

  “Yes.” Edmund looked steadily at the marquis. “You could have been the man,” he said.

  “I’d like to think so. But I was too late.” He looked at Catriona. “Good-bye, Kate,” he said and left, closing the door behind him.

  When Frances and Ian returned to the house, she asked for the duke immediately, but before Hutchins could answer, Edmund’s voice came from the door of the morning room. “Here I am.” Then he walked into the hall, put his hands under Frances’s elbows, and lifted her until her face was on a level with his. “You are a wonderful woman, Frances,” he said solemnly and kissed her.

  “Wait a minute now!” protested her husband.

  Edmund laughed, and his face was bright and boyish. “You can return the compliment and kiss my fiancée,” he said, and Ian broke into a grin.

  “Congratulations, Burford. So Frances was right.” Catriona appeared in the morning room doorway, and Ian shouldered past the duke. “I have permission,” he said and kissed her most thoroughly.

  “Goodness!” said Catriona, emerging laughing from his embrace. “He’s dangerous,” she told Frances.

  “I keep him on a very tight rein,” his wife replied. She smiled at Catriona. “I’m so happy for you, darling.” And then the two women embraced.

  “What I don’t understand,” Edmund said later to Ian as they all sat over breakfast, “is how Frances penetrated my secret. I thought I was being very careful.”

  “Oh, she knew as soon as Talbot told her that Catriona was the only person you ever lost your temper with,” Ian replied, lavishly buttering a roll. Edmund looked completely bewildered, and after a minute Ian took pity on him. “The only person who has ever succeeded in putting Frances out of temper,” he told his host with a rueful grin, “is me.”

  Edmund began to laugh. “I see,” he said.

  “Yes.” Ian took a healthy bite of his roll. “In a strangely tortuous way it makes perfect sense.”

  The butler came back into the breakfast room. “Her Grace is in her boudoir,” he told the duke.

  “Thank you, Hutchins,” Edmund replied and looked at Catriona. “If you’ve finished eating, Catriona, I think we should go and tell Grandmama.”

  “Oh, yes,” Catriona replied sunnily. “How surprised she will be!”

  “There’s only one person who will be happier than Grandmama,” he said softly as they mounted the stairs together.

  “Who is that?” she asked, raising innocent, questioning eyes to his face.

  “Me,” he answered simply and there, before the fascinated eyes of one of the upstairs maids, he stopped and kissed her again.

  EPILOGUE

  1827

  Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie

  Which we ascribe to heaven.

  All’s Well That Ends Well

  Catriona finished burping her daughter and laid the baby gently back in her cradle. Georgianna waved her tiny fists vigorously, and Catriona laughed. The door opened, and the nurse came in. Catriona looked around.

  “Oh, good, Mrs. Summers. Georgy’s been fed, and I have to go back downstairs. Will you take over, please?”

  “Of course, Your Grace.” The nurse competently picked up the bab
y and was murmuring softly to her as Catriona left the room. She looked into the schoolroom, but her sons were not there, so she went down to the drawing room.

  Edmund and the boys were with George. Catriona walked in, saw her muddy and wet husband and sons, and said, “You look as if you’ve had fun.”

  “It was splendid, Mama.” Seven-year-old John turned a glowing if somewhat dirty face toward her. “Papa helped us build a giant dam. I wish you had been there.”

  “I do too,” said Catriona enviously.

  “Papa let me hand him the sticks,” three-year-old Robin said proudly.

  “That’s wonderful, darling. I do notice, however, that both of you seem to be dripping on the carpet. I think you’d better run along and change.”

  “Does that apply to me as well?” her husband asked with amusement.

  Catriona smiled at him. He had been buried in some project for almost a month now, and she was delighted to see that he had apparently come up for air. “It’s your carpet,” she said sunnily. “If you want to drip, drip.”

  “Yes, Your Grace?” said her butler from behind her.

  “Oh, Hutchins. Will you please see that Lord John and Lord Robert get some dry clothes? And an extra big tea, I think.”

  “Oh, good,” said both boys together and went out after the butler, leaving a regrettable trail of muddy footprints. Their mother appeared not to notice.

  George looked at the duke and thought of what his wife would say if he ever dared to appear in her drawing room in Edmund’s condition. The duke’s black hair was disheveled and falling over his forehead, his boots were muddy and so were his knees. But his face looked relaxed and happy. It was impossible to believe, George thought suddenly, that he would be forty next year.

  “I just looked in to say hello to George,” Edmund was saying to Catriona now. “I really didn’t plan to sit and visit until I had changed.”