In the Shadow of Arabella Read online

  “But, Katherine, that was years ago—a youthful indiscretion. I am certain he has been a faithful husband since.”

  “Would you tell Mr. Seaton about the time you disappeared with Henry Sprague and no one could find you for more than two hours?”

  “But we were lost in the maze—and I thought I was in love with him.”

  “But would you tell Mr. Seaton about it? Would you tell him, as you say, everything?”

  Unable to face Katherine’s accusative stare, Charity turned away to the window. After several moments she replied quietly, “Perhaps not.”

  “Just so,” Katherine replied. “I believe I have set the question to rest.”

  Early the following morning Katherine borrowed a horse from the Harringtons and, taking only a groom with her, rode to her old home. She avoided the main highway, following instead the farm roads and cart tracks. Along the roadside wild hyacinth bloomed in profusion, the drooping purple heads swaying gently in the breeze. One small meadow she rode across was a yellow sea of buttercups.

  When she arrived at Sir Humphrey’s house, Katherine left the groom and the horses at the stables and walked to the front door. She sounded the knocker and Martin’s familiar face soon appeared. The butler’s somber expression was replaced by a bright smile as he saw who waited on the doorstep.

  “Miss Katherine!” he exclaimed, then corrected himself. “I should say Lady Rudley. How good it is to see you again. We did not expect you.’’

  As he glanced behind her to discover the conveyance that had delivered her, she said, “I am staying with the Harringtons. I rode over to see my stepfather. I came early, because I know he is at his best at this time of day. Is he at home?”

  “Please come in, my lady. Sir Humphrey has come down to breakfast. Should you like to join him?”

  “Perhaps you had best take him my card, Martin, and ask if he will see me.”

  “Certainly, my lady.”

  As she handed him her visiting card she asked, “How are you getting on with him, Martin?’’

  “Much the same as always, my lady. Things have changed little since you left. He no longer has you to vent his anger on, and for that I am grateful. We were so pleased to hear of your marriage; your husband is said to be a fine man.”

  “He is, Martin, and I am content with him.”

  “Mrs. Green and the others will be pleased to hear it. Excuse me, Lady Rudley, I will take your card in to Sir Humphrey.’’

  Martin returned in a few moments and led Katherine to the breakfast parlor, where he nodded to the servants to leave the room, then closed the door, leaving Katherine and her stepfather alone.

  “And to what do I owe this honor?’’ Sir Humphrey asked, stuffing his mouth with a slice of beef.

  “You must have known I would come,” Katherine answered, seating herself at the table. “We cannot continue with things as they are. Serena finishes school in a week, and you do not want her here any more than I want her to be here.”

  “She will not stay long; she weds Postlethwaite in September.”

  “Serena does not wish for the match,” Katherine replied, “nor do I. I will not permit it.”

  ‘‘You will not permit it? You have no say in the matter! It shall be as I have arranged.”

  “Why do you insist upon such an inferior match for her, sir? If she comes to me now, she can do much better for herself. She can be brought out, meet eligible men—”

  “Oh, yes, you are very well-connected now, are you not, my lady,” he said scornfully. “A countess, no less. Moving only in the best circles. The date is set, the settlements are arranged. Serena will marry Postlethwaite.”

  “There is the heart of the matter,” Katherine said. “The settlements are all that concern you, not Serena’s happiness nor the unsuitability of the match.’’

  Still chewing his breakfast, Sir Humphrey started to speak again, but Katherine forestalled him. “Before you fly up into the boughs, I have a proposition to put before you,” she said. “Please hear me out. If you follow through on your plans with Archie, you will receive a fixed amount, which will in time be gone. The plan I am proposing will guarantee you an income for the rest of your life.’’ She paused to see how this information would be received.

  Sir Humphrey stopped eating for a moment, one eyebrow raised, before he said gruffly, “Go on. I am listening.”

  Taking a deep breath, Katherine plunged into the speech she had prepared with great care. “I should like you to resign your guardianship of Serena in favor of me.”

  “I won’t do it. Her income would come to you.”

  “I realize that. Therefore, I, in return, will assign my total income to you permanently.” He stopped chewing once again as the meaning of her offer became clear. “In our present situation,” she continued, “you would have the benefit of Serena’s income only three more years, until she turns twenty-one. If you accept my offer, you would have the same amount indefinitely.’’

  He took a long draught of ale, then asked, “And what does your fine husband think about you tossing away the only income you brought to the marriage?”

  As carefully as Katherine had prepared for this interview, she had failed to foresee this question. In the brief space before she answered, Sir Humphrey’s eyes narrowed as he watched her carefully.

  “He understands that I desire guardianship,” Katherine said, “and he does not mind what I do with my own money.”

  “He knows nothing about this little plan of yours, does he?”

  “Of course he does.”

  “No, he does not, and there is no use lying to me, girl; I can see the truth in your eyes. That, of course, explains why your husband is not here with you. What business do women have dealing with money matters and issues of guardianship?”

  “It is my money,” Katherine returned angrily, “and it will be my guardianship. Who has more right to deal with it than I?”

  “Don’t get on your high ropes, girl,” Sir Humphrey replied. “I have not said no to your proposal now, have I? If I could trust you to keep to your part of the bargain …”

  “I have no intention of leaving anything to trust,” Katherine said. “I have had a document drawn up by a solicitor. It states all the conditions I have mentioned. If we both sign it and have it witnessed, it will be a legal and binding agreement. I also have a document here that irrevocably assigns my income to you.”

  Katherine drew the papers from her reticule and handed them to her stepfather. He perused them for some minutes in silence, then rang the bell at his elbow. When the butler appeared, Sir Humphrey said, “Lady Rudley and I are about to sign some papers, Martin. We wish you to witness our signatures. Fetch quill and ink at once.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  When the butler left, Katherine asked, “You agree, then, to all the conditions stated?”

  “I would be a fool not to. I have nothing to lose and much to gain.”

  “You will break off the arrangement with Archie Postlethwaite?”

  “I will.”

  “And I will receive no further communications from you asking for money?’’

  “Well, perhaps occasionally—”

  “No,” Katherine interrupted, “not occasionally, not ever. Once I have signed my income over to you, there will be nothing to send you.”

  “Surely your husband is generous—”

  “I will not support you with my husband’s money.”

  “You will have your sister’s income.”

  “Which I will put aside for her. I will not bend on this point, sir. If you sign the agreement, you must manage on your own from now on. I can no longer help you.”

  By the time Martin returned with the writing implements, Sir Humphrey had made his decision. He set about signing the several copies of each document. Katherine signed after him, then Martin.

  When all was done and Martin had left them alone again, Katherine said, “Lord Harrington has agreed to send the documents to both my
solicitor and yours. He has assured me that once this is done, the Midsummer Day payments will be rendered according to the new agreement. Is this arrangement satisfactory with you?”

  “I trust Harrington; I have no objection.”

  “Very well.” After carefully returning the documents to her reticule, Katherine rose from the table and pulled on her riding gloves. “I appreciate your cooperation, sir. I think we have both profited from this morning’s work.”

  As Katherine rode away from Briarwood Place, she prayed she would never see it again. The interview had gone much better than she had imagined it would. She knew she had been successful because she had found her stepfather sober. She wondered if Sir Humphrey would regret his decision the next time he was disguised.

  When Katherine returned to Harrington Manor wreathed in smiles, her host and hostess and her dear friend knew her mission had fared well.

  “Did he agree?” Charity asked.

  “He did,” Katherine answered. “To everything.”

  “I was certain he would,” Lord Harrington added. “He is much too shrewd to pass up such a good bargain, but I still think you were too generous, my dear.”

  “It was worth every penny to have Serena safely in my care at last.”

  He nodded approvingly. “That is true. His latest scheme to wed her to Postlethwaite was madness. I cannot imagine what he was thinking.”

  “He was thinking of the money,” Katherine said, “but he has agreed to end it, and I will rely upon you, my lord, to make sure he follows through on his promise.”

  “I will certainly do so. You may depend upon it.” Then changing the subject he added, “You young ladies had a busy Season.” Putting his arm around Katherine’s shoulders and directing her to a comfortable sofa, he said, “You must tell me all about your new brother-in-law, who I understand was my daughter’s riding instructor. Charity has been reluctant to share details about him.”

  Charity blushed becomingly but sat nearby and listened as Katherine gave Lord Harrington an all-encompassing description of Oliver Seaton’s person and character.

  At two o’clock Katherine’s coach arrived to take her on her round of afternoon visits. Accompanied by Charity, she called on the vicar and his wife and several other acquaintances before she asked Charity, “How has Lord Parnaby’s mother been?”

  “She is totally blind now and keeps to her room most of the time. I think it is a great shame, especially on a day as glorious as this one.”

  “I should like to call on her,” Katherine said. “Perhaps she will let us take her chair out into the garden.”

  She directed her coachman to the Parnaby estate, where they were welcomed warmly and taken to Lady Parnaby’s rooms on the ground floor.

  “My dear Katherine,” she exclaimed, “and Charity, too. How thoughtful of you to come.”

  “I would not travel all this way without stopping to see you,” Katherine said, taking the older woman’s hands and bending to kiss her cheek. “The day is beautiful and the sun is shining warmly. I imagine the aroma of the blossoms in your garden is heavenly. Will you come out with us?”

  The viscountess smiled, her wide blue eyes staring vacantly into space. “I should love to.”

  A footman soon lifted the frail woman into her wheeled chair. With a woven shawl over her shoulders and another across her knees, he pushed her through the house and out into the garden before relinquishing the task to Katherine. The chair rolled easily over the brick paths.

  “I heard, of course, about your marriage, my dear,” her ladyship said. “I am very happy for you, even though I had hoped …”

  “I know, ma’am. I had hoped it, too, but it was not to be.”

  “Your garden is so lovely, Lady Parnaby,” Charity said, skillfully changing the subject.

  Her ladyship held out a hand and Charity laid her own in it. “And tell me, child, how you fared on your visit to London. Were there men writing sonnets to your beauty?”

  When Charity blushed and failed to answer, Katherine supplied, “No sonnets, but there was a man who plied her with flowers and invitations.”

  “Indeed? And who was that, my dear?”

  “My husband’s brother, Mr. Oliver Seaton. He showed a marked preference for Charity’s company.”

  “Then I suppose it will not be long before you shall wed as well. Then I shall lose both of my favorite young visitors.”

  Moved by the sadness in her voice, Charity offered, “But you will soon have a new daughter, Lady Parnaby, and perhaps grandchildren …”

  Realizing too late how her words might hurt Katherine, Charity hesitated, casting an apologetic glance at her friend, who only shook her head and smiled as she added, “Charity is absolutely right. And in no time at all those grandchildren will be old enough to push your chair down these very paths, raising such a clamor that you will be wishing for your solitude again.”

  The smile on the viscountess’s face told both girls that the picture they had drawn for her was a pleasant one.

  When Lady Parnaby began to tire, Katherine and Charity took their leave, with Katherine promising to visit again on the morrow. “I am going to Lincoln tomorrow afternoon to collect Serena, but I will ride over in the morning to see you, if you should like it.”

  “I would love it, child. You must tell me all about your husband and your new home.”

  The following morning Katherine visited with the viscountess for an hour. When it was time to leave, she walked round to the stables as was her custom. As the groom held her horse and she prepared to mount, she heard the clatter of hooves on the bricks behind her. She turned to encounter the startled gaze of Lord Parnaby.

  *

  Chapter 12

  “Katherine!”

  “Lord Parnaby. Good morning. I have been with your mother. She did not mention that you were here.”

  “She does not know. I arrived very late last night.”

  After this burst of awkward speech they both fell silent until, conscious of the groom at her elbow, Parnaby asked, “Are you leaving? Allow me to escort you.”

  Unable to graciously refuse such a civil request with the groom listening to every word, Katherine said, “Thank you, sir, you are very kind.” Turning to the Harringtons’ groom, she added, “You may ride home, William. Lord Parnaby will see me back to the manor.’’

  With only a nod the groom helped Katherine to mount, then collected his own horse and rode off, leaving Katherine and the viscount alone. Parnaby started his horse off at a slow walk and she followed suit.

  “This is perhaps not wise, sir.”

  “Why not? You are a married woman. I am betrothed. We are old friends. No one will think it strange if we choose to ride together.”

  “I thought you were in France,” she said, searching for a harmless topic of conversation.

  “I was. My intended wished to purchase her bride-clothes in Paris, so I escorted her there. It was actually quite entertaining.”

  “I have never been to Paris. I hope to go someday.”

  “I am certain Rudley will take you if you ask him. He knows the city well, I believe.”

  As they walked the horses along a highway they had traveled many times before, he said, “The horse chestnuts on the far side of Miller’s Pond should be in full bloom. Shall we ride that way?” He turned his horse right-handed onto a narrow lane, and Katherine followed.

  The beauty of the spring countryside was undeniable. In a season often shrouded by clouds, mist, and rain, Mother Nature had offered two successive days of magnificent sunshine. The wood was fragrant with spring blossoms. Rabbits and squirrels scurried from sight as the horses trod the unfrequented road. Bees droned contentedly, seemingly overwhelmed by the sheer volume of flowers to choose from.

  He paused near the pond where the trees were indeed robed in elegant white blossoms. “Shall we stop?”

  She kicked her foot free of the stirrup and slid to the ground to stand near him. “This place is never lovelier tha
n at this time of year.”

  “We had some grand times here, as I recall,” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

  She looked solemn. “Times we need not think of now—times past and gone forever.”

  “It was good of you to visit my mother,” he said. “How did she seem to you?”

  “Well. Hopeful. She is looking forward to grandchildren.”

  He looked out over the pond, where a cluster of ducks bobbed on the water’s surface. “If my intended continues to be the cold, unresponsive creature I have found her to be so far, I think it is unlikely that dream will come true in the near future.”

  Katherine’s voice revealed her shock as she replied, “James, you must not say such things.”

  “Why not? It’s true. She has none of your passion, Katherine. When I hold her, I feel none of what I felt with you.” Then, rather bitterly, he added, “Does your husband content you? Can he satisfy you?”

  Blushing painfully at this intimate remark, Katherine protested, “James, please. You must not speak so to me. Nor ask such questions.”

  “I have thought of you, you know, with him. Does he make you feel the way you felt when you were with me?” Without warning he took her into his arms. Taken by surprise, she instinctively raised her face to his as if no time had passed since the last time he had held her so.

  His kiss was passionate, just as she remembered, but she was surprised to find that the embrace did not elicit the response from her that it always had in the past. She felt no quickening of the pulse, nor shortness of breath, but rather a sense of shock that he would so presume to trespass on her married state.

  She pushed herself free from him as she said, “I will not discuss my husband with you, James, not now, not ever. If you persist with this conversation, I will never speak to you again.”

  She turned away angrily, silently accepted his help to mount, and then set off toward Harrington Manor without waiting for him. He soon caught up with her but maintained a prudent silence.

  Absorbed in her own jumbled thoughts, Katherine had not considered that the road they were following would take them past the George Inn, where all of Rudley’s servants were staying. Only when they were nearly upon the inn did she realize her blunder, but by then it was too late. Mr. Kendall was sitting on a bench outside the inn writing in a small book. He looked up and saw her and smiled. Her hope that she and her companion could ride by with a nod and a smile was dashed when Kendall put his book aside and stepped into the road to meet her.