In the Shadow of Arabella Read online

  This conversation was rapidly taking a direction that Kendall found disconcerting. He was not at all comfortable discussing such matters with the knowledge that the countess planned to keep her activities to herself. On the other hand, the earl had made it clear on more than one occasion that Kendall was to grant any request Lady Rudley made of him, without question.

  Katherine continued. “You are telling me, then, that there is no way I can obtain such a sum without his knowledge.”

  Kendall made his decision. He would obey Lord Rudley’s instructions. “No, my lady, actually there is a simple way. When his lordship went to Scotland last fall, he instructed his bankers in London to allow both Mr. Seaton and you to draw upon them. Mr. Seaton’s power has since been rescinded, but yours has not.”

  “What exactly does that mean, Peter?”

  “Simply that it would take only a draft with your signature to obtain the funds you seek.”

  “Is this not unusual power for a wife to have?”

  “Unusual, perhaps, but not unheard of. It takes a great deal of capital to run an estate of this size. Lord Rudley wanted to be certain that in his absence there would be no problems arising from any monetary shortage.”

  “I see. Thank you, Peter. I appreciate your help.”

  She knew it was unnecessary to ask him not to mention their conversation to her husband. If she had learned anything of Kendall in these last months, it was that a more discreet soul did not exist.

  Katherine was elated. She could help Oliver and Charity herself. She experienced some qualms over the fact that it was Ned’s money she would be lending, but she would make sure Oliver never knew. She would enlist Lady Finley’s help. Surely Oliver would not refuse a loan if he thought it came from his sister. And if it was a deceit, it was only a very small one, and certainly a necessary one if she was to overcome the gargantuan pride of the Seaton family, particularly that of its two eldest sons.

  That evening at dinner Katherine introduced a subject she had been considering for several days. “Ned, do you think it would be possible for you to take some time off from your work here to go up to town for a few weeks?”

  “Would you like to go?”

  “Yes, I thought it might be enjoyable. We could take the children along and show them some of the sights. Then, when it comes time to travel north for the wedding, we would have a shorter journey than if we left from here.”

  “I’m sorry, Katherine. I have not even thought that you might be eager for a change. I had forgotten that you have been fixed here in the country for months now.”

  “Don’t be silly.” She smiled at him. “You know that I love it here. I thought it would be enjoyable for the children, especially Pamela. And, actually, I do have a few selfish motives: I would like to see how Serena is handling her first season, and I would love to have a new dress made for the wedding.”

  “Then it is settled. When would you like to leave?”

  She could see that her mention of the wedding irritated him, and she knew it would be useless to discuss it further. He had flatly refused to attend, and no argument she had put forward made the least impression on him.

  They settled on the last week of March to remove to London; Katherine knew that would give her plenty of time to arrange Oliver’s loan. With her plans made, she wrote to her sister-in-law.

  My dear Lady Finley,

  I am writing you to beg your assistance in a matter of some delicacy. As you may or may not know, Oliver still needs the sum of five thousand pounds in order to purchase Weiring. I have this sum available and wish to lend it to him, but I know he will not accept it from me. I already feel I owe Oliver more than I can ever repay. For his sake, and for my dear friend Charity’s as well, I am determined to do this for them. Would it be possible for you to convince Oliver that this money is a loan from you and Lord Finley? I am hopeful he would accept it upon such terms. If you feel you could help me in this matter, I would be most grateful; but if you prefer not to involve yourself in such an intrigue, I will understand.

  Yours sincerely,

  Katherine, Countess of Rudley

  Several days later at her London town house, Lady Finley finished reading Katherine’s letter, then set it aside and reached for quill and ink to write an immediate reply. She smiled to herself as she considered her good fortune in having acquired such an insightful and courageous sister-in-law.

  During the past several weeks Katherine had developed the habit of sleeping in her husband’s bed. This unfashionable behavior delighted the servants, particularly those who had been with Lord Rudley through the years of his unhappy marriage. Katherine was there now, propped up against several pillows, reading poetry by the light of the candles on the table nearby. Her nightgown was of a pale blue diaphanous material; her hair was brushed out loose and hung down about her shoulders.

  This was to be their last night at Rudley Court. Everything was packed in readiness for tomorrow’s journey to town. The children had been in high twig for days pondering the promised treats that awaited them in London, not the least of which was seeing Oliver again. Katherine had retired early, having spent a hectic day organizing and packing.

  She noticed that the clock on the mantelpiece showed a quarter past eleven and wondered what was keeping her husband so late. Less than ten minutes later she heard his voice and that of Wiggin in the adjoining dressing room. Rudley entered the room, crossed to the fireplace and snuffed the candles on the mantel, then paused beside the bed. “Would you like to continue reading?”

  “I think not,’’ she answered. “I would rather talk.’’

  He left the candles burning on the bedside table and seated himself on the edge of the bed. “That is a very becoming color, Katherine. I do not think I have ever seen you wear it before.”

  “It is new,” she said. “I thought you might appreciate this fabric.” She slid out of the bed quickly to twirl before the fireplace. The cloth of her gown was thin enough to see through without the light; with it, little was hidden. He could see every line of her trim body—the slender hips, the swell of her breasts as she turned in silhouette. She danced over to him and stopped with her thighs brushing his knees. “Do you like it? Do you remember once you warned me not to stand before firelight?”

  “Yes, I like it. And yes, I remember telling you that.” He rose to his feet and took her by the waist, pulling her close and holding her against his chest. “You are teasing me, Katherine. Why? You are not normally one to tempt fate.”

  “Is that what I am doing? Tempting fate?”

  “When you parade about half-naked before a man who loves you and has been denied you for months, yes, I would call that tempting fate, or at the very least gambling recklessly.’’

  His lips took hers then and for long minutes only the ticking of the mantel clock and the crackling of the fire could be heard in the room. When she could speak again, Katherine said, “I saw the doctor today.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “He said I am completely recovered and he has no plans to see me again. He said his time would be better spent visiting sick people.” Then shyly, with her eyes cast down before his, she added, “He also said we should be able to have as many children as we want—beginning anytime we like.”

  As she finished he took her face in his hand, forcing her to look at him. “Can you imagine the torture it has been for me all these weeks?” he asked. “Lying each night beside you, not trusting myself to touch you?”

  “I do not have to imagine it, my love,” she responded. “It has been the same for me.”

  He pulled her tightly against him and then rolled her over onto the bed. “My God, Katherine,” he said passionately, “your doctor had best be right, for I promise you, I shall not use you lightly.’’

  She smiled to herself at that. “Indeed, my lord, I hope not!”

  *

  Chapter 24

  The journey toLondon was totally pleasurable. Rudley, Katherine, and the chil
dren all sat together in his lordship’s traveling carriage. It was roomy and well-sprung and they passed the time chatting and gazing out the windows at the changing landscape.

  A warm wind scuttled in from the southwest, raising the dust on the road and casting about the remains of last year’s fallen leaves. The bare elm branches displayed dark pink blossoms; soon they would burst into green. The wild pear trees were already blooming, their flowers thick as snow on the branches. Numerous birds sheltered in the hedgerows where tiny clusters of pale leaves dotted the hawthorn. Robins, blackbirds, and thrushes flitted from tree to tree, preoccupied with nest building. The delightful song of the meadowlark mingled with the raucous call of the jay.

  Rudley rarely traveled in a closed carriage, preferring to drive himself or ride whenever possible, but today he was disposed to be with Katherine. They sat close, sometimes holding hands, often smiling at each other for no apparent reason. They were acting much like a love-struck couple on their honeymoon. They looked as if they had a secret, private between the two of them, and indeed they had. They had made love into the early hours of the morning, and now they were remembering it and looking forward to the time when it would happen again. That was their secret, though perhaps not much of a secret, for lovers have always shared it. They were in a mood to be pleased, and found themselves agreeing to almost anything the children suggested.

  When Pamela noticed Katherine’s hand held so lovingly in the earl’s, she felt no jealousy. She had liked and admired her stepmother from their first meeting and had been grateful to her for bringing the earl home to live. She had always sensed that her father was unhappy. But now with Katherine he was content, and in loving Katherine his capacity for love had increased to include her. Pamela no longer doubted her father’s love for her.

  They arrived in Cavendish Square in the afternoon. Katherine had been to Rudley House several times: for her first London party, for several family dinners preceding her wedding, and for the wedding breakfast itself. She had, however, seen little of the house on these occasions and was most anxious to tour it room by room.

  When the butler offered to be her guide, Rudley left to call on his brother John. Not finding him at home, he went on to Brooks’s, hoping to have better luck there. He encountered many of his acquaintance, but not John. Glancing through one room in the club, he noticed Oliver playing faro, which surprised him considerably, for Oliver seldom gambled.

  Two days later, when Rudley announced that he would be occupied with business until after luncheon, Katherine finally found her opportunity to visit the earl’s bankers. It was not customary for ladies to call upon bankers in the City, but in her own carriage, accompanied by her own servants, she knew there could be no question of impropriety. She ordered the town coach and was soon on her way.

  It had not occurred to Katherine to involve anyone else in her plans. She would obtain the money herself and then arrange to meet Lady Finley. That way there would be no chance that Rudley would learn of her activities. She had not anticipated, however, the reaction of his lordship’s bankers. Kendall, with a good understanding of the earl’s character and specific orders to obey, had not mentioned his conversation with the countess to the earl. Rudley’s bankers, however, were made distinctly uneasy by this unusual request for funds. They did not hesitate to honor Katherine’s draft, for they did, after all, have Lord Rudley’s authorization to do so. They felt no compunction, however, in mentioning the transaction to the earl, for he was a valuable client and one they would not happily lose. Even before Katherine had departed their establishment, a courteous and carefully worded note had been dispatched by hand to the earl’s residence in Cavendish Square.

  Rudley was in the library when the note arrived and Benson brought it directly to him. “A letter has been brought round, my lord, by hand.” Rudley lifted it from the salver Benson presented. Breaking the seal, he quickly read the few lines.

  “Her ladyship went out this morning, Benson?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Has she returned?”

  “Not yet, my lord.”

  “When she does, ask her to join me here. That will be all, Benson, thank you.” The butler turned to leave and Rudley lowered his eyes again to the note in his hand, as if it could offer him some further enlightenment. Katherine had withdrawn five thousand pounds! It was incredible! Why would she need such a vast sum of money? And, more to the point, why would she withdraw it without saying anything to him? He was not given much time to ponder these questions, for barely five minutes passed before Katherine returned home and joined him in the library.

  “You wished to see me, Ned?” she asked as she entered the room.

  “I did not know you were going out this morning. You said nothing at breakfast.”

  “I had an errand to attend to,” she said simply.

  “What sort of errand?”

  “Nothing that would interest you,” she prevaricated.

  “Did you order a new dress for the wedding?”

  “I did that yesterday.” She was determined not to lie to him, and she could not understand why he was belaboring the point.

  “There is no need to dissimulate, Katherine. I know where you went this morning.” She did not see how that was possible, but from his tone she was inclined to believe him. He placed the note on the desk between them. “My bankers value my patronage. They were understandably concerned when you chose to circumvent me in a request for funds. May I have the money, please?”

  She stared at him in stunned silence, feeling trapped and guilty. Then, reaching into her reticule, she drew out a neat packet of notes and held it out to him. When he made no effort to take it from her, she dropped it onto the desk.

  He had not taken his eyes from her face and now, as she stood stiffly and silently, his voice softened as he continued, “Katherine, please. Sit down.” He indicated a chair several feet to her right. Moving to it, she sat rigidly, folding her hands in her lap. He reseated himself behind the desk. “Katherine, I am not angry with you. I have only two questions. Why do you need such a large sum of money? And why could you not simply ask me for it?”

  She glanced up briefly and he could see tears glistening in her eyes. She dropped her gaze quickly, without speaking.

  “Come now, Katherine, we agreed we would have no more secrets. Is it Sir Humphrey?”

  “No,” she replied vehemently. “I have not heard from him. Besides, I would never give him a penny.’’

  “Then why? I am afraid I do not understand.”

  “I cannot tell you why I need the money,” she said finally, “and I did not ask you for it because I knew you would not give it to me.”

  “Why do you say that?” he asked in surprise.

  “Because I know you would disapprove of the use to which it is to be put.”

  He stared at her in amazement. “And this explanation is expected to satisfy me?”

  She leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk anxiously. “Ned, please, I need this money desperately! You must let me have it!”

  “I may yet let you take it,” he said, lifting the bank notes from the desktop, “but first you must tell me why you need it.”

  “I cannot do that.” She slumped back into her chair. She was defeated. She had failed Oliver and antagonized her husband in the process.

  “So this is where the conversation ends,” he said curtly. “You admit that I will not approve of your use of this money, yet you stand by your resolve to have it. Undoubtedly one of us is a fool, but at the moment I am unable to decide which.” He held the notes out to her. “Here, take the money and keep your secret.” His tone was reproachful.

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide with astonishment. “You will let me have it?”

  “You have just said you need it desperately. I would prefer to have you confide in me … but I will not leave you desperate.”

  She took the notes with a trembling hand. Then, no longer able to contain her tears, she managed a m
umbled “Thank you” and fled.

  That evening at dinner Rudley behaved as if nothing untoward had occurred between them. He was polite and solicitous, and his manner increased Katherine’s remorse. She believed he had spoken no less than the truth when he said he was not angry with her. Yet when she retired, she knew she could not go to him, nor was she surprised when he did not come to her.

  Early the following morning she dispatched a note to Lady Finley and within the hour had a reply. Her ladyship would call that very morning, she said, and Katherine could entrust the money to her. According to schedule, the countess presented herself in Cavendish Square and conveniently found Katherine alone.

  “I have never seen Oliver so keen as he is over this property,” she declared, “unless you consider his captivation with your lovely friend.” She smiled warmly at Katherine. She had been opposed to Rudley’s marriage initially, but she had been proven wrong and was more than willing to admit it.

  “When I first offered Oliver the five thousand,” she told Katherine, “he flatly refused it, saying Finley had no obligation to him. But eventually we convinced him to accept it as a loan. I insisted that Weiring had been my mother’s home as well, and I would be pleased to see him there. However, from what he tells me, the place is in great need of repair. The house and the land have both been shamefully neglected. I fear the renovations needed will be a great drain on Oliver’s income. Do not mistake me, I cannot regret his acquiring the place. Indeed, I would not have helped you if I was not convinced that nothing short of Weiring would satisfy him. But if it proves to be more than he can handle, he will be risking his happiness, and I must admit I hate to see him gambling so.”

  Rudley entered the room at that moment and Lady Finley deftly turned the conversation, asking Katherine if they planned to attend the Seftons’ ball on the following Friday. The final words of her last subject, however, had not escaped him.