Robert had been avoiding her, and she saw no reason to inform him of her plans, a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck, something Madame would have a fit at if she saw her creation so maligned. Grabbing a slice of toast and jam from the breakfast tray, she forced it down as she made her way to the stable, ignoring the surprised looks of the footmen.
“Good morning, Higgins,” she said cheerfully upon entering the stables, inhaling the familiar scents of hay, leather, and horse. “How are you today?”
“I am well, ma’am,” the head groom responded, doffing his cap, kindly eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Is there a suitable animal to ride, something faster than a slug?” She chuckled.
Higgins rubbed his chin. “Um…”
His gaze darted over her shoulder to the main house, and Kitty fought the urge to mimic the action.
“Would a spirited mare suit your purpose, ma’am? She’s in need of a good ride.”
Kitty’s mouth curved in a smile. “That sounds ideal.”
“I’ll bring her round to the main house for you, ma’am.” He indicated.
Katherine had already begun to shake her head. “No need, I will wait here.”
A look of pure puzzlement swept over his face, but it was quickly gone. It was not his place to comment on the strange goings-on of the big house or upon his master’s guests.
“Very well, ma’am,” he agreed, then moved off to ready the animal.
Kitty spent her time visiting with the other horses, stroking their velvety noses and offering the odd sugar cube that she had hidden in her pocket, to the recipient’s appreciative whinny.
“’Ere we are, miss.”
Katherine twisted to see Higgins leading a dappled grey mare, her haunches the colour of thunderclouds, a stripe gracing her forehead, and three half socks. She was as pretty as a picture.
“Oooh,” Kitty breathed softly, “she is a beauty.”
She reached forward to stroke the stripe streaking down her velvety muzzle, but the mare skittered, pawing the cobbles.
“She’s a might lively, ma’am,” the groom commented, casting a dubious eye on the restive mare. “Are you sure you don’t wish for a quieter mount?”
“She will suit my needs well enough. Please take her round to the mounting block,” Katherine directed. “I wish to ride alone this morning.”
The man gaped at her. “But…but it is set to snow, ma’am.”
Kitty’s gaze flicked to the heavy grey sky on the horizon, but the patch of blue on the left beckoned her like a siren’s call. “Perhaps not, if looks fair enough.”
“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but my knee has been giving me trouble all morning, just like it always does before the weather turns bad.”
Kitty offered him a kind smile. “I’m sure I will be quite fine. If the weather does worsen, I’ll make for home post-haste.”
With his brow stilled furrowed, Higgins scratched his head. “If you insist, ma’am.”
She gave a resolute nod. “I do.”
Mounted, the mare skittered sideways, tugging at the reins to get her head down. Thankfully, Kitty was wise to such tricks, and after a brief tour up and down the courtyard, the horse settled. She touched her heels to the mare’s flanks, and the animal eagerly responded, moving at a smart trot out of the courtyard. The frigid air tasted fresh and slapped Kitty in the face. For one moment, she thought to retreat and curl up with a good book with a cup of chocolate and a roaring fire. But she wasn’t so spineless and it was so freeing to be up on a horse again, it mattered not that she was alone, and it gave her the freedom to explore.
She rubbed her cheek against the muffler, taking comfort from the soft woollen garment, and plunged onwards, determined to tour the park before the weather closed in on them and the snow hid the potential obstacles and pitfalls.
Clear of the house, she pulled up and leaned down to pat her mount’s neck. She whispered softly under her breath, “What do you say, girl, are you happy to be out of that stable and ready for a good run?”
The mare nickered in agreement. A wide grin split Kitty’s face, and she tightened her grip on the reins and urged the mare into a gallop, her carefree laughter whipped away by the wind.
Robert sat at his desk, twirling his pen between his thumb and forefinger, deep in thought, stunned when he tensed for the roll and swell of the tide and it didn’t come. And he was reminded that he was not at his desk aboard the Defiance. He’d lost his way in the stack of letters he was attempting to read. A short list of the different estates for sale finally caught his interest, but his mind wasn’t attending—a pair of laughing blue eyes fringed with thick, black lashes kept intruding. That woman was a siren.
Standing, he slowly rounded the desk and leaned down to stoke the fire. Perhaps he should ask for Kitty’s opinion. Always being a sensible type of woman, she might be able to provide a new perspective. There was a noise coming from the hall, and a bitter draught swept through, targeting the house’s gaps and cracks. He shivered and made his way to the door.
“Preston, how are you?” Robert greeted his cousin cheerfully, surprised by the genuine affection he felt upon seeing the man.
Preston knocked the snow from his hat and shoulders before offering his greatcoat to the waiting footman. “Glad to be out of this damned weather,” he responded, “I’m thankful that we were only a few miles out when the weather closed in.”
Robert took his cousin’s offered hand—it was a solid lump of ice—and fought a wince from passing over his features. “Damn, you are frozen. Come by the fire and thaw yourself.”
Preston snorted. “I never thought to see you become a nursemaid.” He was led into the warmed room and made a beeline for the fire, holding his hands out with a grateful sigh. “Are the Thorpes joining us as well? They will have trouble getting through in this weather.”
Robert was fast to allay his concern. “Lady Mowbray arrived shortly before you but preferred to thaw out in the comfort of her room. Unfortunately, Lady Thorpe fears it would harm her younger daughter’s chances to depart from the social whirl, so they have decided to reside in the capital.”
Looked like he hadn’t been all that successful in keeping that edge out of his voice after all. “And how did your bride take the news?”
“Gracefully,” Robert said shortly, running a hand through his hair and leaving it sticking up at angles.
“But…” Preston gestured with his brandy glass.
Robert’s eyes narrowed. Blast his eyes, the man missed nothing.
“But she misses them.”
“And how does marriage suit you?”
“We are still finding our way. Do you have the package I commissioned?” Robert hedged; it didn’t feel right sharing the difficulties of his marriage with Preston, cousin or not. It was none of Katherine’s making either. There was an awkwardness between them that neither of them knew how to mend. He hoped time would remedy this.
“I have it.” Preston reached under his frock coat and produced a small square parcel wrapped in brown paper, handing it over to Robert.
“Thank you,” he said and slid it into a desk drawer, locking it.
“A gift for your bride?” Preston added slyly.
Robert shot him a fulminating glare then turned to more important business. “What of the other matter?”
Preston’s face hardened, his amber gaze morphing into that of a predator. “That has been satisfactorily concluded. Between us, we bought a considerable amount of Lansdowne’s debt. If he so much as looks in Katherine’s direction, we will ruin him.”
“Good,” Robert said darkly. He stared into the fire. That was at least something; he could put Katherine at ease. She would no longer have to fear that bastard’s attentions.
There was a knock at the door.
“Enter,” Robert called, unable to smirk at Preston’s wince. He hadn’t quite mastered his volume or wrapped his head around the fact he no longer had to be heard above the wind and roar
of cannon.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, Captain Vaughn.” The head groom entered.
Robert struggled to remember his name. It began with ‘H’, didn’t it?
He was twisting his cap in his hands. “It is Mrs Vaughn...”
Robert’s head jerked sharply at his wife’s name. Had she had enough and finally decided to return to London? He found himself holding his breath, waiting for the groom to speak. “What is it?”
“She went out this morning, my lord, wishing to collect evergreens.”
“Women,” Preston muttered. “Never found one who had any sense.”
Robert shot him a glare, and Preston held up his hands in surrender.
“Carry on, Higgins.”
The cap was a wrinkled rag at this point. “She’s not back yet, my lord.”
Robert blinked. “Not back? What do you mean, not back? Didn’t she take a groom with her?”
The unfortunate man grimaced. “No, she said she wished to ride alone.”
Robert’s gaze darted to the window. The flurries were falling thick and fast, the grass was no longer visible, and small piles were forming. The silly pea goose was out in this weather? Swearing violently under his breath, Robert jumped to his feet. “Saddle a horse immediately!”
Preston was shifted from his position by the fire. “Let me come with you.”
Robert didn’t waste time arguing or trying to change his mind. “Fine. Higgins, you know this land. Where would she go for evergreens, and what path would she take?”
Kitty shivered, wet and miserable, and her teeth chattered incessantly, threatening to shake loose. It was just her luck, the foul weather and a husband who would never love her. This was the latest in a long list of events that hadn’t gone her way, despite her best intentions.
The wind howled, gripping her hood and attempting to rip it off her head. Kitty tugged her muffler closer, but it did nothing to shield her from the biting wind. She was chilled to the bone and bruised where she had tumbled onto the frozen ground. She’d pushed the unknown animal harder than she should. Free of its rider, the mare had taken off in the direction of the house and was probably back in her nice dry box. And, oh, how Kitty envied her. The snow stuck to the velvet, the long train, and the thick fabric was waterlogged and weighing her down. It made walking back hard going. The snow flurried and stung her eyes. Determinedly placing one foot in front of the other, she headed in the direction she thought the house to be. Kitty held her hand over her eyes, and hope clutched at her chest.
There was a rider up ahead.
Hopping up and down, she shouted, “Over here!” She desperately waved her arms.
The rider saw her and wheeled about. She almost sagged with relief. Water dripped from her hat and chin, her lip trembling. This was perfectly awful. A lone frigid drop made its way down the back of her habit, and she shuddered. Most unpleasant. She couldn’t make out the rider’s face through the sheets of snow.
“Katherine, what in the devil’s name were you thinking?”
It was Robert, but what in good heavens was he doing on a horse? He loathed the creatures. She opened her mouth to ask just that, but he wasn’t finished.
“Get on!” he ordered, shouting to make himself heard, his hand reaching down.
Kitty grasped his wrist as tightly as her numb fingers would allow, and he pulled her bodily up in front of him. “Hold on!” was all the warning she received before the horse jolted into motion.
Her hands searched for purchase to keep from tumbling upon the ground. She wrapped them around his waist and gripped him tight. The lights from the house came into view, warmly twinkling like they were sharing a great joke. The jest was most certainly on her. The rain had stopped, but she was soaked through to the skin, her hair loose and threaded with mulch and leaves. She was an absolute fright. She could just imagine what her mother would say, and a sense of nonsensical hysterical laughter bubbled in her throat. God, she would have rung such a peal over her head.
“I don’t see anything humorous about this situation, wife.”
The words were muffled, snatched away by the wind. Kitty closed her eyes and leaned her head back against his shoulder. She seemed to do nothing but cause him trouble.
He growled a curse, its vehemence lifting her eyebrows.
“Don’t worry, Katherine, I’ll soon have you warm.”
Of course he would. If Robert said he would do something, he’d do it, and he was the sort of man who would always take care of his wife, even an unwanted one.
The hooves struck the cobbles, and Robert called for a groom to come and take the blasted animal. He slipped down, and Kitty went to follow suit.
She tried to move and found she couldn’t, her muscles frozen stiff and refusing to bend.
He opened his arms, and she gratefully tumbled into them, colliding with the solid weight of his chest. Damn and blast. She couldn’t feel her feet, wincing when she wriggled her toes. It was like smoking-hot needles were being slid into them.
He carried her up the steps.
“I can walk, Robert. Put me down!” She was much too heavy for him to carry.
The man must have cloth ears because he just held her tighter.
“Robert, you are overreacting, this isn’t a Gothic novel.”
When Robert didn’t slow, Kitty mentally threw up her hands. The man was impossible.
He kicked the door open to her suite, then back-heeled it shut.
“What in the devil were you thinking of, Kitten?” Robert barked, raw fury brightening his eyes. “Do you want to catch your death?”
Kitty blinked up at her towering, displeased husband, droplets of water trembling on the brim of her bonnet.
“I-t w-o-u-l-d certainly r-rid you of the i-inconvenience of being m-married to me,” she shot back, though her chattering teeth ruined the sting of her waspish comment.
“Don’t say that.” Robert’s jaw clenched, and he cupped her cheeks, his skin branding her frozen flesh with his heat, pure unadulterated emotion shining in his eyes. “Don’t you ever say that.”
Shock pounded through Kitty. The usually calm and controlled Captain Vaughn was not given to passionate outbursts. They stood staring at each other, the only sound the fire popping in the grate, the water from her sodden clothes dripping onto the floor.
“Christ, we need to get you out of those clothes,” he muttered, spinning her around and attacking the row of small buttons with a vengeance, cursing women’s fashion all the while. The last button came free, and the water-logged fabric slithered to the floor.
Kitty gave up and surrendered herself to his overzealous ministrations, though she had never seen him like this. The man was not content until the fire was stoked to a roaring blaze and she was tucked up in bed, sweating under a ludicrously high pile of blankets. She was more likely to expire from heat exhaustion rather than from any cold-related illness.
To appease her irritating and irrational husband, she stayed in bed the rest of the day, her ankle wrapped in cold cloths and easing the swelling. Robert was most attentive and kept her company, but enough was enough. Already his cousin, a viscount, would think her a poor hostess. And this was one duty where Katherine was determined no one would find fault with her. With that thought in mind, she kicked off the suffocating blankets, levered herself up, and eased upright from the bed, sore and aching after her fall. She gingerly shifted her weight onto her feet.
“Just what are you doing out of bed, madam?”
She jumped and in the moment forgot her injured ankle. Lightning-hot pain streaked through the joint, and a breath hissed through her teeth. Robert stood at the entrance of their connecting door, his shirtsleeves rolled up and a thunderous look on his face.
“Rising to dress,” she replied mutinously. She began her arduous journey of limping to the vanity, fighting to keep from grimacing. “There is nothing wrong with me to say that I have to spend all day in bed. Goodness knows what your cousin thinks of me when I haven’t even
greeted him.”
“Kitty, stop being difficult,” he cajoled, like he was trying to talk round a child.
She ignored him and had almost succeeded in making it to her destination. Robert sighed and scooped her up before depositing her gently back upon the covers, undoing all her hard work and leaving her with a throbbing ankle to boot.
“Preston fully understands why you are indisposed. It does not reflect poorly on you to look after your health.” His arms folded across his chest, he cocked an eyebrow as if daring her to move from the spot he’d placed her.
Despite how infuriated he made her, Kitty couldn’t help but admire his impressive figure. But she wasn’t giving up and stubbornly dug her proverbial heels in. “We have guests, and I will not have it said that I am a poor hostess.”
Robert pinched the bridge of his nose, appearing in pain. “Katherine,” he started in his most reasonable tone, if somewhat strained.
But she cut him off with an impatient wave of her hand. “No, Robert, I am getting up and dressing for dinner.” She emphasised her point with a jerky nod.
Robert paced. “I said no, Katherine.”
He put a lot of strength behind that ‘no’. The man was perfectly serious, and Kitty wanted to box his ears.
“Fine,” she bit out, clenching her hands into firsts in the coverlet. “You can put me to bed but you can’t keep me here.”
Robert’s eyes narrowed and lit by black fire. He leaned down until they were nose to nose. “I could just tie you to the bed, and there’d be an end to it,” he snapped.
And that tightening in Kitty’s belly shocked her. She wasn’t opposed to the idea, and the atmosphere in the room charged. Robert offered her a slow, wolfish grin, and the tips of her fingers tingled. And he stalked closer, the movements sleek and determined. She could feel the heat coming from his body.
“Does the thought intrigue you, Kitten?”
It felt like he was peering right through her, deep down into her soul. Kitty nibbled her bottom lip. The idea...fascinated her. It shouldn’t do, should it?
“I don’t know.” That was her voice? That soft breathy whisper?
Have Yourself a Merry Little Secret : a Christmas collection of historical romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 2) Page 105
