Her Lady's Whims and Fancies

by Jen Geigle Johnson

  Kate nodded.

  They led her down the aisle that contained the early history of Brighton. “We have found some interesting details about your castle,” he told her.

  “Oh?” She grinned. “I’m most intrigued by the history of my castle. Did I mention the box of clothes I found? And we have found other things. The place is so immense, new mysteries are showing up all the time.”

  He lifted the most intriguing tome. “Come, let’s have a look at this.”

  “Yes, and tea as well.” Julia gestured back to their spread.

  “Certainly.” Logan led Kate back to a simple seating they had arranged. Julia poured the tea.

  Kate. Here in his favorite room in the home, with Julia at his side. He watched her every sip, every enjoyment of the crumpets or the sandwiches, reveled in every compliment she gave to Julia.

  Then he laughed at himself.

  “And what is so funny?” Julia asked.

  “Oh, this is not the laugh of anything humorous. This laugh is enjoyment, pure and simple.”

  Kate’s eyes lifted to his, and for a moment, their communion across the table was powerful. It coursed between them as a current from the ocean and seemed to rise in a rush to heaven.

  Logan lifted the historical tome. “So it says here that the Normans built your castle.”

  “That’s what we suspected. William the Conqueror himself.”

  He flipped through the pages. “Yes. He was hoping his wife would come here to live. He built it with all the latest comforts of the time.”

  Kate laughed. “Such as they were.”

  “Precisely. And then he lived there, briefly, but his wife came for only one year and then returned to be the regent in their dukedom in France.” He turned the page. “But in that one year, they gave birth.”

  Kate leaned closer.

  “And the record is unclear to whom.” He flipped to the back of the book. “See here, this chart. It shows the lineage of William the Conqueror, but there is some lack of clarity as to the ages of the sons, and there is a question about an additional daughter. See here.” He pointed to a blank space in the list of children. “The footnote says that there is a good amount of evidence that this final child was a girl.” He flipped back to the pages about the castle. “However, there is nothing to indicate whether or not it’s true.”

  “This is all very exciting! What if there is a lost daughter of William the Conqueror? Someone history has forgotten, born in our castle.” Kate’s eyes turned dreamy. “I would love to read this.”

  “Certainly.” Logan handed it over.

  Julia lifted her cup. “So, are you descended from William himself?”

  Kate studied her own cup for a moment. “We think so. We aren’t entirely certain in what manner we are related to him. We do have a loose connection through Henry I, William the Conqueror’s son. He had a daughter, Matilda. And we have been told that she is our grandmother many times over.” She laughed. “But some of the connection is very vague during those times.”

  “And something about this is very important to you.” Logan said it as the fact it was. He knew just by watching her that something simmered just below the surface.

  She puffed out a breath. “It is. This may sound . . . odd. But for many years, we as a family have felt like we don’t really fit.” She paused, and he and Julia shared a glance, but he sat as quietly as he could, hoping Kate would continue.

  “Our parents died, and we were immediately shuffled out of our childhood home by the inheritor of the estate. Sent to live with a distant cousin, someone we called Uncle.”

  “Was it too terrible?” Julia reached for her hand.

  “I was young, and no. We loved Uncle. He became our parental figure in some regards, but was wildly neglectful in others. June took it upon herself to raise us and turn us into acceptable ladies. Looking back, I’ve always thought our growing up years pleasant, but now, I see that we were never told anything about our parents’ family. I have a distant memory of a long hall filled with portraits of our family going back through the years. But I know of no other details.” She sighed. “When Uncle died, we were told that our new home was in a small cottage here in Brighton. Then we were told that the whole of it had been passed off to another distant cousin to Uncle, The Duke of Granbury.” She smiled. “And then to Morley himself, in a game of cards.”

  “That is true?” Julia shook her head. “I saw something about it in Whims and Fancies, but hardly believed such a thing.”

  “Too true. It made for some difficult conversations between June and Morley, but all is well now. You can perhaps understand how any news that the Standish name is not a lost and lonely family is welcome to my identity and lost soul.” Kate laughed. “Do I sound overly dramatic, I wonder?”

  “You have just the proper response. And what do you know so far about the connection of the castle to your family?” Logan had become intently interested in their quest to know more of her family.

  “If the ties are accurate, and we are related to William the Conqueror himself, which I’m pretty certain, then the castle could very well have been built for the female descendants of William. He said so in a letter we found deep in the wall of the castle.”

  “This is incredible. You have such a thing?” Julia leaned forward.

  “We do. When you come for dinner, perhaps we can take it out to show you. He wrote that he hoped his daughters would always have a home.”

  “So intriguing.” Logan nodded, watching her. To think of her past few years, he could understand they were difficult indeed.

  “I suppose it has been useful to us to be distantly royal. Members of the ton have helped us to have clothing and extra food baskets. We used to have many a visitor at our small cottage. It sat directly off the road as one would enter Brighton from London.”

  “But you felt lost and unlinked to anyone.” He wanted to reach for her hand.

  Kate’s eyes widened. “Yes. That’s exactly how I feel.”

  “Even now.”

  “Somewhat, I suppose.”

  From the rigid manner in which she held herself in this moment, Logan would guess that she was still powerfully influenced by her insecurity about where she truly belonged.

  “Lucy is even more driven. She feels it her duty to bring respectability back to the line. She thinks we should all marry for title only.” Kate laughed. “We tease her for it.”

  “But you understand.” Julia’s eyes were filled with sympathy.

  “I do.” Kate toyed with her plate. “My concerns are not so much with title or recognition. I would greatly like to be grounded into a family, to be tied to them as though a long, invisible string connected us to our past.”

  “There’s more.”

  Kate nodded. “And I never . . .” She looked at them both. “Never want to be hungry again.”

  “Oh, you poor dear!” Julia moved around the table to squeeze Kate across the shoulders.

  “And perhaps this is frivolous.” Kate’s eyes flitted to Logan’s and then away. “But I never want to wear last year’s fashions again, either.”

  Logan laughed. “This, I see.” Perhaps he’d stumbled upon part of the reason for her unhappiness. “No chance of that now. You seem to create the latest fashions. You’re on the cusp of them all the time.” He dipped his head. “I would venture to say you have a gift in this area.”

  “A gift of a frivolous waste?” Kate’s eyebrows rose in challenge.

  “Oh that I could rid that moment from your memory. My fashion exploits are a widely abused, distractive, frivolous use of my time and energy. Yours are a work of art.”

  “Oh now, no. Yours are equally a work of art. I would like to see the infamous cravat again sometime. I hope you haven’t cowered in fear at your opponents . . .” The challenge in her eyes amused him and sparked a bit of an idea. “I will. If you create something equally bold.”

  “Done. I will do so. And we will wear them together.”

  L
ogan held out a hand. “Let’s shake on it, as Julia is our witness.”

  Her hand in his caused his feelings to surge again, and he wanted more than anything to stand, pull her into his arms, and kiss away any insecurities she had remaining. But instead, he just winked. “When shall we do such a thing?”

  “It must be in the most public of places.” Kate lifted her chin in challenge.

  “Prinny’s ball.” Logan laughed at the most perfectness of the suggestion.

  “Most excellent.” Kate tapped a finger on her chin. “I will have to work on my plan.”

  Julia looked from one to the other. “I do believe you two are a force alone. Together, no one will be able to keep up.”

  As Logan studied Kate’s responding laugh, he knew his sister to be exactly right.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kate hurried back into the castle with the history book clutched under her arm. She had vowed to be the utmost careful with such a precious volume. She went straight for the library, then their family sitting room, then the front rooms. Not seeing anyone, anywhere, she hurried up the stairs and placed the book carefully on her dressing table. Then she went in search of a servant, someone who would know where everyone had gone.

  Sniffling sounds distracted her once she exited out into the family wing hall. She followed the sound and found Lucy, alone in her room, wiping her eyes.

  “Oh, Lucy.” Kate ran to her sister. “What is it? What has happened”

  Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise. “I thought I was alone. I’m sorry to distress you.”

  Kate wrapped her arms around Lucy’s small shoulders. “Tell me.”

  “Oh, there’s nothing to tell.” Lucy tried to wave her away.

  But Kate pulled up her other chair and sat close, pulling Lucy’s hand into her own. “Please. What is distressing you? I can’t bear to see this sadness.”

  Lucy’s sigh was quiet but long. “I just . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to do about Lord Tanner.”

  Kate was surprised at this response. “Is there something to be done? Have things progressed between you?”

  “Not really, no. But they could. I think I could encourage things to progress, you know, how some ladies do.”

  Kate thought of her moments on the beach. She would die before she told her sisters of her brazen behavior. “Yes. You mean, like smile, and give him attention, flirt with him?”

  “Yes. Yes, those things. But . . .” She turned to Kate. “I find I abhor the man.”

  Not expecting anything of the like from her sister, Kate sat back and laughed. “Well, then what is the problem?”

  “The problem? He’s the only available almost duke in the ton right now. And I can’t find a way to like him.”

  Kate shook her head. “No. You cannot be thinking you must live with a man you abhor simply because he will be a duke.”

  “But Kate, don’t you see? Our family deserves this. We were meant to be those with titles. We were meant to be part of the royal court.”

  “With Henry I. Come, Lucy. We don’t need to be a part of this royal court. You wish to be related to the Hanover lines? To Charlotte and . . . Prinny?” Kate made a face, which brought out the hoped for laugh in Lucy.

  “Most definitely not. But I do so hope to have a Standish bloodline sit as a duke.” Lucy’s shoulders drooped. “But I haven’t as yet been able to stomach him.”

  Kate’s laugh shook her belly. “Then I say desist with this plan. There are plenty of other reasons to marry. And we have an earl. That’s enough titling for all of us.” She thought immediately of Lord Dennison. Marquess. And wondered if Lucy would be at ease were Kate to marry a marquess. Marry Lord Dennison? She’d of course given him all of her thoughts since their kiss, and the idea of spending the rest of her life with such a man would be such a pleasure. Her joy would be full, she was sure of it.

  But would he want her if he knew of her connection to Her Lady’s Whims and Fancies? Would she have a need for this income if she were married to him?

  “Do you ever worry about food and money and providing for ourselves?” Kate asked.

  “All the time.”

  “And if our husbands should die? What then?”

  “Yes. I worry about that, too.”

  Kate knew that the concern would never leave her. She knew what happened when people died—everyone they cared about was left destitute. They had lived that very nightmare for too long for Kate to ever forget or lose the fear that one day she or her children might be left in the same situation. As ashamed as she was about her Whims and Fancies work, she couldn’t regret it for that reason alone. She was building some kind of manner in which to provide for herself.

  She squeezed Lucy. “I’ve got some good news. Let me run to grab something.” By the time she was back, Grace had joined Lucy in her room.

  “Where’s Charity?” Kate asked.

  “She’s coming,” Grace replied.

  “Excellent. I have something to show you.” Kate held up the book.

  Grace wrinkled her nose. “An old book?”

  “Oh, stop. You are going to love this. I promise.”

  Charity at last joined them with a flourish and landed on the bed first.

  Kate followed and climbed up on Lucy’s bed. The others joined her, and for a moment, Kate just smiled at them all. “Just missing June.” The nostalgia hit pretty hard, but she grinned through it. “I love us, dear sisters.”

  “Yes, I love us, too.” Grace reached her arms out as wide as she could and got up on her knees, scooting closer.

  They all collapsed together in a tangle of arms and shoulders and skirts. Then fell back in a fit of laughter. Kate felt a few of the broken pieces caused by her worries close up and heal. The world shifted closer to where it should be. Then she sat back against the headboard and opened up the book. “This is a history of Brighton, and more particularly, a history of this very castle.”

  “Ooh.” Grace moved to sit at her side. “You’re right, I will like this one.”

  Kate read to them the connection with William the Conqueror, why he had the castle built, and who lived there, and then read them one particularly powerful paragraph.

  “. . . William was known to have touted many times that this castle was for his wife, for his daughters. The women in his family were to benefit. And although marauders and even greedy male members of his family tried to take it for their own, he zealously defended its walls, declaring, “It is for my Matilda and her daughters or no one at all.”

  Kate felt happy gooseflesh prickle up and down her arms. “That is us.”

  “But how do we know for certain?” Charity pursed her lips. “I would like to believe that as much as anyone, but how do we know?”

  “We don’t, but we are working on it.”

  “We?”

  “Oh. Lord Dennison. This is his book.”

  “Lord Dennison.” Charity grinned.

  “Yes, but that’s beside the point.” She showed them the genealogy page and the empty space. “There are a few theories that this is Matilda. Right here in this line. And I wonder if we aren’t related through her line.”

  “But I thought we were related through Henry I.”

  “We are as well. But a more direct connection might be found through Matilda. And if through her, then this castle really would well and truly belong to us.”

  “And any other of her direct descendants.”

  “True.” Kate frowned. “And really, to Morley now, and June, so what does it matter?” She puffed out a breath. “But it does matter. I want to know where we come from.”

  “So do I.” Charity nodded her head.

  Kate leaned her head back. “Who remembers Mother and Father?”

  They settled onto the bed, each one knowing where this conversation would go. June, who remembered the most, was not present, of course, but they all had memories to share.

  “I’ll go first.” Grace leaned her head on Kate’s shoulder.
<
br />   As they went through the stories they each remembered of their parents, Kate grasped onto the knowledge of who they were and where they came from, and settled into the familiar feelings of love they shared.

  Charity adjusted her legs beneath her. “I had another memory come to me last night, something I haven’t thought of in years.”

  “What was it?” Grace leaned forward.

  “Mother. She led me down a long portrait gallery. She stopped in front of one, a woman.”

  Kate sucked in her breath, waiting for more, but Charity stopped. “What did she say? Who was it?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember. Just that feeling of being a part of something special.” She frowned. “I tried to fall back to sleep to see the rest of the dream, but it was gone.”

  “What if it was Matilda?” Kate asked

  “Would they have a portrait that old?”

  Kate shook her head, not sure of anything. “I found some old clothes.”

  Charity wrinkled her nose. “I’m not wearing them.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Of course, not. But they might have clues.”

  Grace stretched. “I say we talk about this tomorrow.”

  “Yes, me, too.” Lucy smiled at Kate.

  They all made their way out of Lucy’s room, Kate last of all. “Thanks for our chat today.”

  “No, I thank you. Talking with everyone helped me remember who I am. A Standish daughter cannot just marry anyone, duke or no.”

  “That’s right. One thing I know for sure. There aren’t many men in the world who deserve you.”

  “You either, sister. Is this Lord Dennison someone who would make you happy?”

  Kate couldn’t stop her smile. “I think so.”

  “Then I wish you the very best.”

  Kate held up a hand. “Don’t be wishing me well quite yet. I want to know much more about him before I decide any well-wishing would be necessary.”

  “I’d like to talk to him as well.”

  “I wish you would. Ask him anything you can think of.”

  She laughed. “I will. And I pity him if Charity gets ahold of him.”

  “I don’t even know if he’s a Whig or a Tory.”