Robert dropped a kiss on the top of Kitty’s head. ‘No need to trouble yourself over that for I’ve already informed Mrs Kirk and told her to warn the kitchen to prepare. You know as well as I that Mrs Ainsley will be in her element, devising dishes suitable for our guest.’
‘How long will His Lordship stay?’
‘Oh, a sennight at least, I should think.’
A whole week? Waves of heat rushed through Kitty. How on earth would she manage an entire week with him here? In her home? Could she maintain the façade of gracious hostess for that length of time or would that old hurt and resentment at his lies bubble to the surface? She could not face the humiliation should Robert discover what had happened in the past, nor the mortification should Adam ever realise exactly how much turmoil he still stirred within her.
‘Now,’ Robert continued, ‘I have taken up enough of your time…be gone to the flower beds and allow those plot tangles to unravel in your head.’
Kitty walked away, her stomach tangled in as many knots as her plot and her throat clogged with emotion.
* * *
‘What the devil is amiss with you, young lady?’
It was the following day and Kitty had called upon Lady Datchworth at her home, Peyton Park.
Her Ladyship raised her pince-nez and peered at Kitty, continuing, ‘You call upon me without warning and then proceed to sit there, pale as uncooked pastry, and fidget your fingers in your lap. If you have no gossip with which to entertain me, you may as well go home.’
Kitty swallowed past the lump of dread that had taken up residence in her throat since yesterday and forced a smile.
‘I apologise for my poor company, ma’am. I—I dare say I am missing Charis—she has gone to Yorkshire to stay with her sister.’
‘Then the solution is obvious.’
‘It is?’
‘Indeed. Invite a friend to stay with you. That will fill the gap in your life and provide the company you crave.’
Kitty could think of nothing worse. She would rather spend her days writing quietly than having to dance attendance upon guests. Her thoughts flew straight to Adam and his impending visit, and her stomach fluttered. She swallowed again.
Her Ladyship unexpectedly reached out and took Kitty’s hand. ‘You feel the same as any mother, my dear, whether or not Charis is your own child. You have raised her and you must face the prospect that she will at some time marry and move away from home, and grow away from you. But that is the natural order of things for we women—our fledglings must fly the nest and we must move on, finding new interests in our lives. At least, it is the natural order for most people. I could only wish that reprehensible son of mine would settle down. I have tried…heaven knows I have tried to find him a suitable bride, but he rejects every single one of them. But, there…we were not discussing my woes…’ Her fingers tightened around Kitty’s.
‘Catherine, dear, I know you have always been adamant you will never remarry, but…mayhap it is time to reconsider?’
Kitty started. ‘Ma’am? You surely cannot mean Lord Datchworth?’
The Marquess was a dark, forbidding man with, as far as Kitty had ever been able to tell, no sense of humour at all. She had thought Adam brooding, but Datchworth was twice as bad and she could think of nobody who would make a worse husband, so much so that she’d modelled the villain in her novel, Lord Sidney Barmouth, on the man.
‘Foolish girl! I care for you far too much to inflict my son upon you. I might be his mama, but I am not blind to his faults. No… I simply meant in general—is it not time for you to think about marrying again.’
Kitty shook her head. ‘I cannot.’
‘Cannot or will not?’
‘It would be unfair on any husband who did not already have children, when I know I am barren.’
Just admitting that out loud brought a painful lump to Kitty’s throat. How she would have loved a baby of her own…but that regret was another that lived in the past and that she tried hard not to dwell upon.
‘Are you so sure you are, my dear?’
‘I am. Edgar and I were married ten years and my four stepchildren are ample evidence of his prowess.’
‘Then marry a man who has already produced his heir.’
Again, Kitty shook her head. ‘I have no wish to raise a second stepfamily—I love the stepchildren I already have.’
‘Then marry a man with older children, or an older man with no desire for children.’
Kitty shrugged helplessly. How had her missing Charis resulted in Her Ladyship deciding she must be ripe to remarry?
Lady Datchworth released Kitty’s hand and reached for a silver handbell on the table by the side of her chair. She shook it and the door opened in response to its tinkling sound. A maid entered and curtsied.
‘Bring us a bottle of Madeira. Lady Fenton requires stronger sustenance than another pot of tea. And a plate of sweetmeats would be welcome, I dare say?’
She gazed at Kitty, brows raised, and Kitty nodded, knowing agreement was required of her rather than a polite refusal of the offer. Sweetmeats were Her Ladyship’s very favourite indulgence and the plate was really for her.
‘So, let us think of ways around your predicament, my dear. Which friend might you invite to stay with you?’
‘No. I cannot invite anyone for the moment, ma’am. It is impossible.’
‘Impossible?’
Her Ladyship bent a look of astonishment upon Kitty but said no more as the maid returned at that moment, carrying a tray which she set on the table. She poured two glasses of Madeira and then offered the plate of sweetmeats to Lady Datchworth, who leaned forward, a line of concentration etched between her eyebrows and rubbing her hands together as she examined the plate.
‘Hmmm. Yes… I think…’
She reached out, selected a sugared almond and popped it into her mouth before leaning back and closing her eyes, chewing slowly, an expression of utter delight upon her face. She waved her arm without opening her eyes and the maid offered the plate to Kitty.
‘Now. Where were we?’ Lady Datchworth had finished chewing and, despite a longing sideways look at the plate—set within her reach on the side table—she turned her attention back to Kitty. ‘Oh, yes. You claim having a friend to stay would be impossible. How so?’
‘W-we actually have a visitor arriving today…a visitor for Robert…a man…they will be occupied all week—’
‘Who is visiting you? Why did you not say earlier? A man, you say? Is he a gentleman?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Then who? I demand to know his identity.’
‘It is Lord Kelridge.’
‘Kelridge? He has not informed me of his intention.’
‘You have seen him, ma’am?’
‘We have corresponded a time or two since he left London.’
‘Well, his visit is only recently arranged and he arrives this afternoon, so he will not have had the time—’
‘This afternoon? Why are you not at home to greet your guest?’
‘Adam…’ the sudden gleam in Lady Datchworth’s eyes alerted Kitty to her error ‘…that is, Lord Kelridge is not my guest. Robert invited him, and he is to draw up architectural plans for a new wing at Fenton. Robert plans a ballroom and additional bedrooms for when he marries.’
‘Fenton is to marry? I have seen him pay no particular attention to any lady. Whom is he to marry?’
Relieved to have diverted Her Ladyship away from the subject of Adam, Kitty said, ‘He claims he has no one lady in mind. He claims he is planning ahead.’
‘Hmm…well now, it will behove me to think carefully about this.’ Lady Datchworth rubbed her hands together, a gleam in her eyes. ‘I am sure I can come up with the perfect match for him.’
Kitty made a mental note to warn Robert to avoid Her Ladyship for the
foreseeable future if he did not want one eligible bride after another—at least, eligible in Lady Datchworth’s opinion—thrust under his nose. There was nothing Her Ladyship enjoyed more than a spot of matchmaking.
‘Now. It is time you left for home, my dear, for you will want to be there to greet your guest.’
Lady Datchworth rang the bell and ordered Kitty’s carriage, then she jumped to her feet with an energy that belied her years and escorted Kitty to the front door.
As Kitty paused at the open carriage door to say goodbye, Her Ladyship called, ‘Look after Kelridge, Catherine. He is not nearly as tough as he likes to pretend.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Adam gazed around with interest as he drove his curricle along the tree-lined carriageway to Fenton Hall. Not much had changed in the fifteen years since his last visit. The lime trees flanking the carriageway were taller. More mature.
As am I.
Mature enough, surely, to persuade Kitty to confide in him without ruffling her feathers with his poor attempts to tease her as he had done the last time they met. He needed to understand if her marriage to Fenton was because she had been desperate to leave her father’s house or was it as he’d initially thought—a young girl craving the adventure of being a wife, too naive to realise the implications of tying herself to a man so far beneath her own station in life? But if she had been in trouble, why had she not told him? She must have known he would never abandon her had she been in danger.
But I did stop her from confiding in me on that last day.
That guilt had been added to the other guilt that had tormented him for so long—the guilt of denying his love for her. But the past could not be changed, only the future, and here was his chance to uncover the truth as well as to untangle his feelings for present-day Kitty. Discovering the truth about what had driven his mother to take him from his father—and realising he had leapt to conclusions about her motives—had made him doubt what he initially thought about Kitty’s hasty marriage. The Kitty he remembered had been spirited and bright and loving, not a girl who would cynically manipulate a man or lie about her feelings. He now believed he could have been wrong and he would listen to what she had to say.
Then, they would see. Could there possibly be a future for them, or was there too much hurt and suspicion between them now?
This was the perfect opportunity to discover what they both wanted while, at the same time, helping Robert with his plans. If nothing else, it would be good to feel useful once again, practising those skills he had learned and honed over many years.
The carriageway passed through the pair of familiar stone pillars that flanked the entrance to the forecourt and he steered his pair around the area, drawing them to a halt level with the front entrance. The front door opened and Robert bounded down the steps, reminding Adam of the young lad he had known.
‘Adam! Welcome!’ Robert leapt into the curricle. ‘I’ll ride with you round to the stables.’
‘Thank you. It is good to be back… I shall look forward to getting reacquainted with the old place.’
‘You’ll find not much has changed. Hi! Gresham! Come and see to His Lordship’s cattle, will you?’
The Fenton Hall head man emerged from the dim interior of the barn.
‘Yes, milord.’
Gresham eyed Adam with the same mix of curiosity and caution Adam had recognised in his own staff at Kelridge Place. He did not begrudge Gresham his restraint—after all, he had known Adam as a simple architect’s apprentice—but at least there was no hint of the resentment he detected in the Kelridge men. This time away from Kelridge and that odd, unsettling atmosphere would, he hoped, give him time to work out the best response to the underlying distrust and the hint of disrespect that threaded through much of his interactions with the men. Although reluctant to turn men off, he might have no choice if he could not win them over.
Anyway, he was here now and had a chance to clear his head and to help Robert design a new wing for the Hall. He couldn’t wait to begin.
* * *
Adam saw nothing of Kitty until he came downstairs after changing for dinner. He made his way directly to the salon and there she was, standing with her back to the door, gazing out of the window. A gown the colour of periwinkles skimmed her curves in all the right places, her shining hair caught up with tortoiseshell combs, a few tendrils spiralling around her ears.
His heart leapt as he drank in the sight. Joy spread through him and his earlier confusion melted away with the certainty that he did still harbour feelings for her. But his uncertainty over what she felt about him…for him…remained.
‘Ahem.’
She spun to face him, her face pale and her eyes wide.
‘Lady Fenton, I am sorry to startle you.’ He bowed. ‘Good evening… I would have waited to be announced, but there was no one in the hall and Robert did say to consider myself one of the family and not to stand on ceremony.’
Kitty inclined her head and glided across to sit in one of the chairs near to the fireplace. ‘Indeed, you must regard yourself at home while you are our guest.’ She had swiftly recovered from her shock and now sat primly, her expression serene, with her hands folded upon her lap. ‘Please, take a seat while we wait for Robert. I am sure he will be down soon.’
As he sat down, Adam recalled his poorly received joke about headstrong young girls and his other attempts at jesting that had also fallen flat.
‘Before Rob joins us—might I apologise for my clumsy attempts to tease you when we last met? I fear I inadvertently upset ye. As I said, they were poor attempts.’
‘It is forgotten, sir.’
Silence reigned.
‘Do ye—?’
‘How are—?’
They spoke simultaneously, and both paused. They laughed at the same time and the atmosphere lightened a fraction.
‘Please, do go ahead,’ Adam said, willing to take his cue from Kitty as to how they would treat one another.
‘I was about to ask if you find the Hall much altered?’
‘The house, from what I have seen, is much the same but, of course, the occupants have changed beyond recognition. Your late husband leaves a gaping hole where he stood and, with Edward in the army, Jennifer wed and residing in Yorkshire, and Miss Mayfield temporarily absent, the house seems strangely quiet.’
Kitty’s lack of reaction, other than a faint wash of pink over her cheekbones, spurred him into trying to provoke a stronger response from her.
‘But you are here now, of course. That is the greatest difference. And had our work lasted a mere couple of weeks longer, I should have known all about your marriage. It must have been hastily arranged, for I never heard even a whisper of His Lordship’s plan to remarry during my time here.’
Adam fought back that old sense of betrayal that still simmered, driven by his uncertainty over her feelings, and despite his newly acknowledged feelings for her. If he continued to prod Kitty in an attempt to learn what she was truly thinking, she would never tell him the truth of what happened and, until she did, they would keep wandering in circles, stuck in the same fog of suspicion that had enveloped them since their meeting in London.
It was possible he had jumped to conclusions about the reason for Kitty’s hasty marriage exactly as he had done with his mother and the reasons for her leaving his father. He was still determined to uncover the truth—if it was anyone but Kitty he would suspect she’d been with child, but he knew the marriage was not for that reason. It must have been because of her father.
‘Kitty… Catherine…please, might we talk about what happened? We both have questions—’
‘You are mistaken. I have no questions. You were very clear at the time and I accepted your decision long ago.’
‘But—’
Adam bit back his protest as the door opened and Robert strolled in, looking from one to the o
ther of them with a quizzical expression.
‘I beg your pardon. Am I interrupting something?’
Kitty’s chin lifted. ‘Not at all, Robert. We were talking about the speed of my marriage to your papa. I was about to explain the reason for that to Lord Kelridge.’ She switched her gaze to Adam. ‘We met quite by chance and fell in love. There was no need to wait.’
The pain, sudden and sharp, stole his breath, but he caught a flash of guilt in those grey eyes of hers.
She was lying. She must be lying.
But he could not challenge her with Robert there. He must have patience. He would get his chance to coax the truth from her.
‘Dinner is served, my lord.’
The butler, Vincent, stood at the open door, his announcement saving Adam from any further response.
* * *
The conversation between Adam and Robert flowed easily over dinner, with Kitty joining in only when applied to for her opinion. As soon as they finished eating, she rose to her feet and the men followed suit.
‘I shall withdraw and leave you gentlemen to your port and your plans.’
‘We shan’t be long, Stepmama. You will still be in the drawing room when we’ve finished? Will you play for us?’
Adam was unsurprised when she shook her head.
‘I regret I have the headache, Rob. If you do not object, I should prefer to retire early.’
‘Then an early night is the best remedy.’
‘Goodnight to you both. I apologise for abandoning you on your first evening here, my lord.’
‘I hope your headache is speedily relieved, my lady.’
‘It is little wonder she has the headache,’ Robert said to Adam as Kitty left the room. ‘That woman would try the patient of a saint.’
‘I…? Lady Fenton? But…?’
‘Good Lord, no! I didn’t mean my stepmother! She is a diamond!’
He paused as the butler came in with a bottle of port and poured two glasses. ‘Thank you, Vincent.’
As soon as Adam and Robert were alone again, Robert continued, ‘My comment was aimed at Lady Datchworth. Do you remember I told you my stepmother had visited her today?’
Harlequin Historical July 2020 - Box Set 1 of 2 Page 37
