Perhaps I will not run away to Scotland, after all .I can live in one wing and Jack can live in another. We need never see each other.
It was not until they had descended into the valley and rounded the lake that she remembered Jack’s mother. The dowager. The woman who did not even know her son was married. Who had not been invited to the wedding. Kate was swimming in scandalbroth, and arriving unannounced and alone at this magnificent estate to meet the mother of her temperamental husband. How could she have let herself in for such a thing?
Best to start as she meant to go on. Kate adjusted her hat and gloves and raised her chin. A butler emerged from a front entrance that reached two stories high. He greeted the coachman.
“Good afternoon, John! I thought I recognized his lordship’s carriage. We had no idea he was to make us a visit.”
A footman had followed him out the door and opened the carriage, letting down the stairs. His face a rigid mask of politeness, he extended his hand to Kate and helped her to descend. The butler’s eyebrows disappeared beneath a heavy forelock of white hair.
Chin still high, Kate introduced herself, “I am Lady Katherine Bailey-Wintersham, his lordship’s new marchioness. His lordship had pressing business in London, but will be joining us in a day or two. I should be so glad if you would present me to the Dowager Marchioness.”
The butler bowed low. Kate allowed herself a small smile. “And you are?”
“Cumming, my lady. I served his lordship’s father and grandfather.”
“I am very pleased to hear it,” she said, inclining her head slightly. Turning aside, she said, “This is my personal maid, Betsy. I should be glad if you would have one of the footmen deliver my things to my apartment so Betsy may prepare a bath for me. I have been traveling for several days.”
“Yes, my lady.” He gave the order to the footman, who unstrapped the boot of the carriage. “If you will follow me, my lady.”
Kate turned to give Betsy a surreptitious wink and then followed Cumming into the house. She smiled to herself. The butler led her up the right side of a sweeping semi-circular staircase that dominated the front hall beneath a perpendicular ceiling such as she had seen only in cathedrals. Why had Jack never told her his home was so grand? How could Caro have dismissed so lightly the idea of being mistress here? Of course, one did have to put up with Jack and his unreasonable temper.
Once they reached the landing, her eyes widened in surprise as they walked past a Gainsborough portrait of a man who looked very like Jack, his red-haired wife, and two small boys. She had had no idea Jack had a brother. The house was carpeted in red, its walls hung with figured ruby silk, and many more paintings. English artists. Primarily landscapes. Tepid, but lovely in their way.
After rather a long walk, Cumming hesitated before a grand door inlaid with ivory. “I think perhaps I should prepare her ladyship,” he said.
Kate weighed his words and decided that she would prefer to proceed unexpected and unapologetic. “Open the door please, Cumming. Announce me, and then you may go about your duties.”
As Cumming complied with her request, Kate lifted her chin again, reminding herself that she was the daughter of a marquis on her own account. The room was gloomy, with long, skinny mullioned windows letting only a bit of light into the large, high-beamed room. At first, she could not see the dowager. Then her eyes were drawn to the immense fireplace which was alight, and she saw a very large woman seated at its side, the blue brocade of her gown almost a match for the chair. She was reading by the light of a branch of candles that were almost swallowed in the dim surroundings.
Cumming cleared his throat. “Lady Northbrooke, may I present the new Marchioness of Northbrooke, Lady Katherine Bailey-Wintersham.”
The new dowager did not swivel her head with alarm or curiosity. She merely marked her place in her book with a red ribbon. Then she raised her head, her brow contracted, her mouth a straight, firm line.
“I am unaware of any marriage taking place.”
Cumming had, per Kate’s instructions, left her to her fate.
“I married your son three days ago, in London, Lady Northbrooke,” Kate replied smoothly, remembering Papa’s advice when dealing with petty despots: Never apologize. “I should be pleased if you would address me as Kate.”
“I am certain you would. However, until I have spoken with my son, I prefer not to address you at all. How do I know this is nothing but a take-in? My son would not foist his wife on me without his presence. He would not be married without my knowledge.”
The dowager pulled the bell rope at her side. Cumming must have been listening at the door, for he entered immediately.
“Show this person to the green bedroom in the south wing. See that she has her supper on a tray.”
“Yes, my lady.” Cumming bowed, offering Kate a smug look.
“And Cumming . . .”
“Yes, my lady?”
“Put the small valuables in the safe. Anything you think she might carry off.”
Kate felt heat rise to her cheeks, anger replacing incredulity. “This is how you treat your son’s wife? It may interest you to know, your ladyship, that were it not for me, he would not even be alive. But I suppose that is of no interest to you, either. I never saw such an unnatural parent.”
She rose. Her ladyship was proportioned like a man. No wonder Jack was so tall.
“By what right do you find yourself called upon to judge my parenting?”
“The right of someone intimately acquainted with Jack. He has never, before or after our marriage, mentioned you. Do you not find that strange?” This was not strictly true, of course, but Kate was very angry.
“Cumming, you may go.”
When the door shut behind the butler, her ladyship said, “I will not have you driving a wedge between my son and me! We enjoy a very healthy respect for one another.”
“It is not my desire to come between the two of you. I am merely remarking the facts.”
“My Jack would not marry such a baggage!”
Good! She had succeeded in raising her ire. Some reaction was better than no reaction.
“I am no baggage, ma’am, but the daughter of the Marquis of Cleaverings. Your son has made a wise marriage.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Explain then why he is not with you, if he is not ashamed of you. For all I know, you are swimming in scandalbroth!”
“If he feels it his duty to explain, your ladyship, he will do so on his arrival. I am afraid that I am sworn to secrecy.”
Jack’s mother exploded with mirth. “Come here, girl, and embrace your mother-in-law. Were you an imposter, you would have a much better story than that. And it sounds precisely like Jack to be involved in some deuced havey-cavey start that nearly took his life.”
Surprised but satisfied, Kate walked into her new mother’s open arms. She smelled of gardenias.
“We met with the assistance of your neighbor, Caro Braithwaite,” Kate told her. “Jack came to call on her. Caro’s aunt and my aunt are companions. They were bringing us out together.”
“Sit, sit, sit,” her ladyship insisted, waving at the wing chair opposite hers. “I hope you brought a number of shawls with you. The house is beastly cold until you grow accustomed. I remember wearing half a dozen shawls when I came here as a bride. It is just as well that Jack did not marry Caro.” She paused to ring for Cumming. “She never could stand up to me.”
When the butler entered, she ordered tea and scones with clotted cream and jam.
Kate smiled her warmest smile. “Did you guess I was from Devonshire?”
“I knew your father, dear. I grew up in the next parish. I guessed that nothing could make you feel more welcome than a Devon cream tea. Then you must have a warm bath.”
“I took the liberty of ordering one upon arrival,” Kate said.
Her ladyship laughed once more. “How droll that Jack would marry a woman so much like his mother. I declare I am flattered.”
“That wa
s not exactly telling the truth, when I said Jack never mentioned you. He did upon our first meeting. He actually implied that he was very glad he was not orphaned, as I am.”
“You are a worthy adversary, Kate. Let us concentrate on being good friends. I should like you to call me Serena. Madly inappropriate, I know, but nevertheless, it is my name.”
“I think it a lovely name,” Kate said firmly, trying to smother a grin.
“Now, at a guess, I would say that Jack embroiled you in some sort of start, ended by compromising you, and then bullied you into marrying him.”
Kate laughed and felt a ball of tension inside her unwind. “That is very close to the right of it. I cannot tell you the whole story without his leave, but I can assure you that I would not have married him had I not wanted to, no matter how he bullied me. However, that part must be our secret. He is very out of temper with me at the moment and convinced that he made a horrible mistake. It is all on account of me not being biddable, you see.”
Her ladyship laughed at this. “I cannot tell you how many times we have quarreled over the same issue. I have never been the least biddable, myself. Ah, here is the tea.”
Kate took in the luscious spread that the footman placed on the table at Serena’s elbow, and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh dear, I am afraid I have become a watering pot. I have not had a cream tea in so long. You are making me vastly welcome, Serena.”
“There now, my dear. Tell me about your family. Did your father marry Eloise?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
IN WHICH OUR HERO IS A TARGET
After stopping by his lodgings for a much-needed bath and change of clothing, Jack called on his man of business and produced his marriage lines. Proctor assured him that he would shortly have control of his fortune. All that was needed was to notify his trustees to see to the winding up of the trust.
Jack was tired. He could not start for home until the morrow, so he decided to pay a visit to Blossom House to see Caro. She would be restful company compared to his willful wife.
When Bates showed him into the navy blue sitting room, however, he was forcibly reminded of his first meeting with Kate. Oh, he had been smitten! Her liveliness and beauty had taken his heart captive then, and he knew that, despite his bad temper, he would never be free. He loved Kate as much for her passion and whole-hearted impetuosity as for any of her other qualities. Sitting there in the very seat where he had fallen headlong into love put him much more in charity with her.
Caro and Lady Clarice entered. He rose and greeted each of them, bowing over their hands. “Hallo, fair ladies! How goes the Season?”
“You have been gone but a couple of days, Jack,” Caro said with a laugh. “And what have you done with Kate?”
“Unless she has taken it into her head to disobey me again, she is with my mother.”
“Oh dear,” his friend said.
“Why should that concern you, Caro?” Lady Clarice inquired. “Is the woman an ogre?”
“I have always been terrified of her,” the girl admitted. “If you think Jack is fond of his own way, you should meet his mother. I have been dreadfully concerned that once her ladyship met Kate, it would be a case of all-out war.”
“I fear you may be right,” Jack said. “I should have taken her there. But Kate is not easy to intimidate, I’ve found.”
“Not like me,” Caro said. “Oh, Jack, for heaven’s sake, what are you doing in London when you should be home with poor Kate?”
“Had to see my man of business. I leave for home tomorrow.”
“Then,” said Lady Clarice, “if you are not already engaged, you will take dinner with us tonight, Northbrooke.”
“It will be my pleasure. Thank you, Lady Clarice. Now I must take my leave. I need to go to Tattersall’s to buy some broodmares. Kate has given me her stud, Apollo, as a wedding present.”
At Tatt’s, Jack spent some time inspecting mares that had recently been transported from his favorite breeder in Ireland. After choosing two beautiful grays with Apollo’s coloring, he arranged with a teamster for them to be delivered to his Wiltshire home. He was giving the direction for his man of business to the agent when he became aware that the same short man in brown pretending to inspect a very lackluster gelding had been outside Blossom House when he had left Caro. Was it his imagination, or was he being followed?
It was clear to him that he must be off to Manton’s to purchase a pistol. His pistol was much too big and unwieldy. Though he could have walked, he thought it wise to take a hackney.
Once inside the gentlemen’s shooting gallery, he consulted with Manton himself.
“I recommend this brass Pepperbox Revolver,” the expert said. “It’s the newest gadget I have. Releases several shots at once. Especially suited for self-defense, but not good if your mark is in a crowd of people.”
“I’ll take it,” Jack said.
During the next hour, he took target practice with the new weapon, learning its idiosyncrasies. Hoping that his stop at Manton’s had not gone unnoticed, he exited carefully onto the street. His shadow was standing on a street corner and holding a newspaper, his brown cap and boots clearly visible. Whoever he was, he was an amateur at this particular game. Could it be Cleaverings himself? He had the right build.
Hailing a hackney once more, Jack returned to his rooms. “There’ll be guinea for you if you come to collect me at seven o’clock,” he told the driver.
* * *
After a very pleasant evening spent with Ladies Clarice and Susannah, Caro, Henry Five, and Queen Elizabeth during which they visited, dined, and played cards, Jack said farewell to his hostesses. The black and velvety night closed about him, its moon obscured by clouds. His short walk to his rooms was accompanied by music, as he passed a number of mansions where balls were in progress. Carriages lined the streets, awaiting their aristocratic passengers.
He thought of dancing with Kate, with her passion that could ensnare him with desire or spark into anger. He remembered how she danced sinuously, taking full advantage of the chance to interpret the music. How many lovely things they had to look forward to, not the least of which was their delayed wedding night—always supposing he was not going to return to an armed conflict between his parent and his wife. Ah! He was almost to his rooms. He needed to fortify himself with a good night’s sleep.
Jack heard the crack of a shot as a bullet whizzed by his nose. Flattening himself instantly on the cobbles, he raised his arm and fired a hail of noisy shots into the blackness in the direction from which the shot came. He blessed his new pistol when he heard a howl of pain. Quickly rising, he ran up his steps and let himself in to the house where he kept rooms. How could he have let his guard down? He should have taken a hackney!
I must be off at first light tomorrow, before this fellow is out of bed.
He slept badly, after all, and decided to set out at three a.m. before the sun rose. Glad of Apollo’s speed, he set him to a gallop as soon as they were out on the clear road. He should make it home by this evening, God willing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
BELATED HONEYMOON
“My dear, you must try the partridge,” Kate’s mother-in-law said. “It is Pierre’s special dish. I am hoping when that son of mine chooses to appear, that he may take out his gun and shoot us as many as he can, so that we can serve them at the dinner party I am planning to celebrate your marriage.”
Before Kate could reply, Cumming entered the vast dining room.
“Sorry to disturb you, your ladyships, however, I thought you might wish to be informed of the marquis’s arrival. He has gone to his suite to change and intends to join you here afterwards.”
“Splendid! Thank you, Cumming,” Jack’s mother said.
Kate clutched the napkin in her lap convulsively. Her heart sped up of its own volition. Raising one hand, she checked that no unruly strands had fallen out of her careful coiffure. She had not expected him so soon! How should she welcome him when he had so
cruelly deserted her in the middle of the road, after she had been so certain he had been shot? I will be cool. If only I can keep my hands from trembling.
Jack swept into the dining room a quarter of an hour later. Kate kept her eyes on her mother-in-law. “And so you see, Serena, I must get Joey as soon as may be. Who knows what terrible taunts he is enduring. He may even be reduced to speechlessness by now.”
She felt her husband stop behind her chair. She smelled his sandalwood cologne as he bent down. She felt his lips on the back of her neck. Oh, my. Despite all of her intentions, her rigidity gave way to pleasure.
“You unnatural son!” her mother-in-law exclaimed. “You had better give Kate your kindest greeting! She has been most cruelly used. Left to make my acquaintance entirely on her own, when I had not the least idea you had married! Fortunately, your wife is more than a match for me. I must say, Jack, you chose exceedingly well.”
“I did, did I not?” Leaving her, he moved to kiss his mother on her upraised cheek. “I knew that if you did not kill her first, you would love her. Now! Cumming said Pierre prepared partridges. Have you eaten them all?”
Kate kept her eyes on her plate, pushing the food around until the quiver of longing inside her had stilled. How dare he waltz in here as though he owned the place?
“Well, my Kate, are you not happy to see me?” She looked up at last to find that Jack’s eyes were dancing with mischief.
“Not particularly, no. I will not subject your mother to my opinion of your behavior as a husband. We will reserve that for a time when we are alone.”
“Thank you for your forbearance, my love. I should hate for my mother to think ill of me. Ah! Here are my partridges. Splendid. Pierre must be clairvoyant. I am that hungry!”
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