by Olivia Ritch
“Thank you, Hamilton. Since she’s been in my life now more than a fortnight, I’ve had as much excitement here at home as I did on the 164
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Continent. Is it possible that getting entangled with an intelligent, foreign woman could be any more difficult?”
“Well, it should be some comfort that once we lay hold of Harold, the death threats will end. You’ll only have to deal with the other big decisions of life. Imagine how she’ll be when she’s breeding and you’re telling her she can’t run.” Julian laughed sardonically but he did not look directly at Michael.
“Now I have a headache,” Michael groaned. “I can’t even think about it.”
But after they left, he did think about it and found that the idea of Kathryn pregnant with his child infused his gut with the warmest feeling.
He could think about it a lot actually.
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Chapter Nineteen
How to dress a lady for an investiture ceremony. Michael was pondering such a question as the Asterleigh carriage pulled out from the drive in front of Asterleigh House in Grosvenor Square. It was his first sojourn from the house as the Duke Presumptive and he had two women in tow, each of whom could be unpredictable, embarrassing and downright vulgar if she so chose. They could also be the two most intelligent, intriguing, damnably enticing women he had ever seen. Lady Cassandra Penthoven was regal, aristocratic, austere, severe, captivating, and challenging. Miss Kathryn Ragland was earthy, beguiling, embarrassing, absurd, exquisite, scintillating, and breathtaking.
The two most important women in his life made Michael look like a veritable bore in his gray and black, someone not to be noticed when they moved together down the street, as colorful and stunning as he was drab. Their presence attracted entirely too much attention. Males gaped, gawked, gasped, and groped for a look, seeking even the slightest indication that the Asterleigh ladies noticed them. Michael was struck with as many parts pride at their presence as outright fear at their attractiveness and the looks they drew. He would need all the resources many years on the battlefield had honed to keep away the rakes, roués and blackguards drawn to the spectacle of two such awe-inspiring, fresh blooded prizes as his sister and his love inspired as they alighted from their carriage on Bond Street.
Michael had plenty of experience with jealous males, cads and jaundiced pretenders but no experience with highly paid, egotistical fake French modistes. He knew one way…he knew how to give a mercenary what he, in this case she, wanted. “Madame, we are so glad you could receive us. You see I am accompanied by the two most exquisite creatures in all of England who are to sit at my hands during my ceremonies with his Majesty. They must be clad by you, Madame.”
She practically fainted at his words. Prinny and these ladies, and an investiture, and them so stylishly turned out. Who the hell were these English country folks she did not know? Madame knew everybody, damn well everyone. She hadn’t spent two years learning French and six months memorizing Debrett’s to falter when such an exquisite trio entered her shop.
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they would come together. What an enlightened and odd wife. The gorgeous dark haired one looked more like the aristocratic wife but she was obviously affectionate with the honey-colored small one. Was this the famous ménage-a-trois she had heard so much from?
“Madame? If you would be so kind as to allow me to present Lady Cassandra Stafford Penthoven, my most beloved sister, and her companion, Miss Kathryn Ragland.”
Ah, so the dark-skinned blonde is the consort then? Interesting.
“My sister knows her taste but Miss Ragland welcomes a more direct approach. Feel free to suggest what you think will be best on her.
She will be in our section, Madame.”
Ahhh, so it is to be like that. Monsieur le duc does not care what the haut ton thinks. He will keep the mistress openly. Well, he will pay well, very well for the privilege.
Ceres, goddess of the earth. If there was ever a human incarnation of that deity, it was Kathryn Ragland, soon to be Duchess of Asterleigh, wrapped in dark bronze heavy silk with her streaked golden mane flowing over gently bronzed shoulders with fabric trailing behind as if her body blended with the floor of Madame Filene’s modiste salon. His Kathryn smiled and the entire shop lit up with her radiance. The other ladies picking fabrics and talking in low tones for fear of his presence gawked at her and Madame’s face was twisted into a joyous and confused contortion. “Mademoiselle, you are…exquisite.”
“Oh Kathryn, that is surely the most beautiful fabric for you.
Michael will have to fight the assembled throng off with his swordstick when you arrive. You are absolutely breathtaking.” With that, Cassandra subsided onto the settee by Michael, who could not take his eyes off his beautiful Kathryn. He had seen her naked and in breeches and in lovely hand-me-down gowns and soaked through to the barest of skin and in a futuristic night rail but he had never seen her swathed in expensive fabric as a goddess. All she needed was a crown fashioned of grain stalks and she would be the goddess of the Earth, Ceres come to life. Or, if he were a student of Greek culture, Demeter. Ceres more directly suited his purposes as searing had him perfectly in mind of his heart.
Michael was definitely in charge of the room. “My dear, that fabric seems to suit you. Madame, I would like to make a present to Miss Ragland of a gown fashioned from this fabric for her gallantry in saving my life.”
“Saving your life?” several female voices intoned including Kathryn’s.
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collapse, leaving me entirely unharmed. This gown will be my gift and she will wear it to my investiture ceremony in two days time.”
“Two days,” Madame shrieked. “It will be a masterpiece, how will I ever…?”
“You will, Madame, because she will be the main attraction at my investiture in front of Prinny himself. I understand she has been brought to his attention. I expect you will want this commission to take precedence over your others?”
“Ah, your grace, yes…it will…take precedence.”
“Thank you Madame. Ladies, shall we right our clothing and take that surprise I promised you?”
“A surprise? You are turning into a regular…what ‘romantic’?”
He gave Kathryn a playful grin as he twined her arm through his.
He also wanted to twine their fingers together so that the men who were even now watching this with keen interest knew she was claimed.
Knowing from the first that this would happen—men ogling her—is why he had avoided bringing Kathryn to London at all. His already badly worn patience with Harold Stafford’s murdering intentions would no doubt be completely shattered as he fended off the advances of the town’s brashest rakes.
The gentlemen of quality who knew him would stay clear but there would be some unconcerned for the look in his eyes and Kathryn’s lovely open nature and warm earthy smile would be too enticing for them to resist. It was already giving him another headache. “Yes, Gunter’s for ices. Ladies, I must tell you that I am being regarded with such jealousy by the men on the street.”
“Oh? How so?” Kathryn had noticed a few looks and wondered that men were so forward with women who were clearly with another man.
She was thoroughly curious about Michael’s answer.
“You two are by far the most exciting creatures out this morning and, because no one has yet been introduced, they are all wondering where you came from and how to get an introduction. I am not inclined to give them one.”
Cassandra chuckled warmly. “Brother, are you jealous that gentlemen are looking at your lovely escort?”
“Yes, I am not too proud to admit that I find it most disconcerti
ng but I knew I would. We have all been rusticating in the country so long most likely because I had been hoping to avoid just such.”
“A wonderfully mature admission from you, Michael. I think your association with Kathryn has made you quite pleasant.”
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guess I feel rather pleasant, and ever so slightly disconcerted.”
“Kathryn, we should have told you much more of London society before bringing you here. You will note that gentlemen are very open with their amorous intentions and some will have no qualms about approaching a lady even if she appears to be claimed. It is entirely acceptable for married ladies to have affairs with married men.”
“However, although we are not married, I have no intention that you will fall prey to anyone’s advances,” Michael warned.
“Michael is absolutely right about married ladies and it applies to widows to but the rules are entirely different for unmarried ladies.
Reputation is paramount and it is not acceptable to remain in any gentleman’s company for any period of time or to dance more than once with him at a…”
“Cassandra, we do not need to frighten her with the archaic nature of the ton’s views on unmarried ladies.” The hint of steel in his voice caused her to look at him and what she saw brought her lips to a curve.
She realized her brother had no intention of leaving Kathryn’s side and society be damned. “Kathryn will not be abandoned to the throng, dear.”
“I daresay!”
* * * *
Harold had been watching their progress and noting the men who had ogled, eyed, gaped, and goggled at the faux Duchess. If they only knew she was nothing but an American commoner who dressed scandalously and had been ruined by his priggish cousin, they would not be looking at her so adoringly. What did those men, any man, see in her? She was clearly too small, without the sweet luscious plump curves for grabbing and holding onto. She was not pale enough or conventional looking. She wore bright colors and gowns with longer sleeves and less revealing bosom that the current styles. And her hair? How could anyone possibly have more variety in tone in their hair? It was as if the sun had streaked it and when it was curled around her head, it made maddening swirls.
Well faux Duchess…. Harold thought, what I have planned for you will wipe all that smugness from your face. Although I might just try a taste of you first, see what it is my uppity cousin finds so irresistible.
Harold faded into the shadows while his henchman eyed the beauty lasciviously while thinking that it would be a pleasure to capture that delicious morsel.
* * * *
If she could have been more nervous, Kathryn could not imagine it. Ellie had been working feverishly on her hair but even her usually 169
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competent hands were shaking. “His Majesty, miss. I can’t fathom it.
You’ll be…in...oh my…I am so sorry. I just can’t seem to keep the tongs moving and hold this all tight. I am afraid I might burn you.”
“Ellie, let’s try for something simple. Is it possible for me to wear it down?”
“No! Oh miss, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have exclaimed at you, it’s just…”
Kathryn reached for Ellie’s hands and the woman visibly relaxed.
“Let’s just pin this top section up and let the rest hang down my back. I am who I am and these big up-dos aren’t me. I do think we could put that strand of beads woven through the topknot though. What do you think?”
“That’s just the thing, miss. I’ll take them,” she answered, and slipped the beads from Kathryn’s hand and began weaving them through Kathryn’s hair creating the lovely illusion of a small wreath. Kathryn was reminded that Michael had called her Ceres, Roman goddess of the earth, mentioning all she needed was a crown fashioned from grain stalks. Well, he would be getting his wish. She did feel rather like a goddess.
The woman descending the stairs toward him was going to cause a scene the likes no one had ever seen. Her shining golden tresses were long and flowing around her shoulders, the curls on top woven with a crown of beads and the dress fashioned more like a Roman drape than a gown was not really short of scandalous. His temples throbbed, jaw ground and his hands burned. They burned with an intensity to claim her, haul her back upstairs and lock himself away with her. No one that saw her would be able to resist.
At that moment, his musings coalesced into one horrified thought; what if she did not choose him?
“You look upset Michael, is something wrong?” She patted her coiffure and the beatific smile faded.
“No, Kathryn, I am sorry to have looked so perplexed. Forgive me. I was thinking about having to beat others off with my swordstick. It might not be the done thing although I do believe there might have been a duel once before in the Lords.”
“I would really like to see you with a sword. Do you fence or is it that fight for your life heavy sword version that you prefer?”
“I have had to fight for my life and I expect today it will be as close-a run as some of those with Boney. You, my dear, will cause a riot.” He lifted her hand and turned her palm into his lips with a scorching gaze that burned all the way to her inner core.
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couldn’t get it up.” She fussed to relieve the impressive tension.
I’ve got it up all right and at the moment am using the banister to keep from showing you, he thought ruefully. It was going to be a very long day. “It’s lovely, Kathryn. I will be very proud to have you on my arm.”
“That was incredibly sweet.”
“No one has ever called me sweet.”
“Consider it done now. Your reputation is very ruined then because you are sweet.”
As Michael handed first Cassandra and then Kathryn into the carriage, he thought over his life these last twenty days and felt a profound sense of gratitude for what he had gained and come more to fully realize as a series of unbelievable blessings. He had never been meant to be the Duke but his service to the King, leading men had taught him well. He had Cassandra back in his life and he had a woman whose smile made him quiver with desire and her mind challenged every one of his long held notions about the relationships of men and women. He was going to need all of this good feeling to carry him through this day.
* * * *
Parliament. The Palace of Westminster, all those Dukes and swords and Prinny himself. The pomp and Michael so regal marching with the other Dukes had taken her breath away, so foreign and beautiful and so totally not of her world. The weight of it crashed in on her as she watched him process from the ceremony and she sat with Cassandra very far away from him. She realized at that moment she could not marry him. In a box not far away from Kathryn, royal speculation was rampant.
“So he’s finally come to town now has he?”
“Yes, Majesty. Seems there was some trouble with a girl staying with his sister. An accident. Or maybe it was many accidents?”
“Friends of sisters don’t usually persuade Dukes to delay their ceremonies. This must be some girl.”
“If the rumors in the Lords are correct she is an ‘exotically bronzed Colonial.’ She is, I believe, not far away from us. The strawberry blond.”
“Exotically bronzed and strawberry blond. From that description and what I can see, she sounds like someone I would like to meet,” the Prince Regent mused deliciously.
“While I am in full agreement with you, it appears she is already spoken for.”
“Yes, I do believe you are right, Foxworthy. She must be quite something. Isn’t the sister the one that tried to kill herself or her father-171
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in-law or someone?”
“Yes, she was thought to be quite insane but it is said that the Colonial
has great sway with her and she is much healed. Rumor is the sister is now affianced to her footman!”
“This story just keeps getting more fun.”
“If the rumors are true.”
“Yes. And Foxworthy, she would no doubt correct you and say she is an ‘American’, not a ‘Colonial’.”
“Quite right, Majesty, quite right.”
* * * *
It was not that she wasn’t good enough for him or incapable of learning how to move in these circles but simply that she did not belong here. This was not her place, her time and while she loved his family madly, they were not her family. He still had not truly believed her for all of his conforming to her modern ways and funning with her and becoming more relaxed and flexible, that she was someone totally different from what he thought. She worked, supported herself, tended a few plants, managed her small retirement account, read the paper, ran road races, occasionally dated a man, cooked sometimes, and made a life with her sister. That’s who she was, not this girlfriend of a rich English Duke being feted in the most regal of ceremonies. And, he couldn’t really fathom where she had been. What would he make of her driving a car, her car of all things – a red Acura! He would probably approve of her private passion for romance novels but not tanning beds. Mercy, what would he say if he knew she had stripped naked in a box and let it bake her bronze? He just would have no concept. She had to go home and this time, he had to agree. It was really for the best. For him, and for her.
All of this made perfect sense in her head; it still didn’t sit well in her heart.
“Lady Penthoven?”
“Lord Marbury, how do you do?” Cassandra replied simply without that warmth in her voice that was so much a part of her when she talked to the family. So this was how it went, Kathryn could read Cassandra’s movements, her voice, inflection. This was not someone Cassandra liked.
