In the Shadow of Arabella Page 8

  A short time later, Katherine and Rudley were seated in his coach, moving toward Berkeley Square. “It was not necessary for you to escort me, my lord,” she said. “It is only a short distance.”

  “I thought you might like some company. I know you do not have the headache, nor did you suffer from it the evening of Strickland’s ball.”

  “How could you know that?”

  “Because I have suspected for some time that you had formed an attachment to Parnaby. It follows, therefore, that his engagement would not please you.”

  “I warned you this morning in the park that there are things about me you do not know,” she said.

  He looked at her searchingly as he asked gently, “Do you love him?”

  Her eyes flew open. “Love him? Never! I hate him!”

  “I have found that sometimes it is hard to distinguish between the two.”

  She put her hand on his forearm nearest her and gripped it tightly, crushing the fine cloth beneath her fingers. “You do not understand.”

  “Perhaps not. But I assure you I would like to.”

  She withdrew her hand and then folded both tightly in her lap. ‘‘Do you remember the night in the conservatory when I said that childish dreams were too far removed from reality to have any worth?”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “I said it, but I do not think I believed it even then. Somehow I was hoping that a foolish dream I had, unlikely though it seemed, still had a chance to come true. Now I know it never will. In my heart I must have always known.”

  She turned on the carriage seat to face him. “I am sure you must find my behavior shocking, my lord. To tell you that I would consider your offer when I so recently hoped …”

  “I appreciate your honesty in telling me this,” he replied. “But it has not made me change my mind about wanting you for my wife.”

  “How can you say that now that you know the truth?”

  “The truth is that Parnaby has chosen the road his life will take henceforth, and it is now time for you to do the same. Take whatever time you need to decide but be assured my offer is genuine and will not be withdrawn.”

  She remained silent as the minutes stretched on, until finally he asked, “What are you thinking now?”

  “I was thinking how wonderful it feels to be wanted and how easy it would be to say yes.”

  “Then do it. Marry me.”

  “I would be saying yes for all the wrong reasons.”

  “Which are?”

  “Financial security, a home of my own, a confidant, a friend and ally whom I know I can depend on.”

  “I see nothing wrong with those reasons,” he said. “They seem perfectly legitimate to me.”

  “They are selfish reasons. They benefit only me.”

  “How can you say so? I would also benefit from a confidant, and from a friend and ally.”

  “You will think this foolish,” she said, “but I am drawn to you because you seem a perfect person to depend upon, and I have not enjoyed that luxury since I was seventeen. Again, a selfish reason.”

  “And if I told you I welcomed such dependency? What then?” He reached to take one of her hands between his large warm ones. “Lean on me, Katherine. I’m strong. Marry me.”

  She met his eyes unflinchingly, her own swimming with unshed tears. “Very well.”

  “Very well?” His eyes brightened. “Does that mean yes?”

  “Yes. It means yes.”

  “Is there someone I may ask for your hand? An uncle or perhaps a grandparent?”

  “No. There is no one.”

  A smile lit his face, and she could not help but respond in kind. He leaned forward then and kissed her lightly, the smile still on his lips.

  It could not be said that Lady Finley was pleased when her maid informed her while she was still abed that his lordship, her brother, was belowstairs and wishful to see her on a matter of some importance. Trying to shake off drowsiness, she slipped her arms into the green silk dressing gown the maid held for her and tucked her tumbled yellow curls under a matronly cap before allowing the earl to be shown up to her boudoir. Her ladyship’s earlier displeasure was quickly replaced by shock when Rudley’s announcement fell upon her unsuspecting ears.

  “You plan to marry Katherine Stillwell in six weeks’ time!” she exclaimed. “You cannot be serious!”

  When a heavy frown from her brother was all she received in response to this outburst, she tried again.

  “Have you taken leave of your senses? Katherine Stillwell is practically penniless. Worse than that … she is a nobody … she is—”

  “Enough, Meg!” The earl’s voice cut through her protests, and her mouth snapped shut in midsentence. “You are speaking of the woman who is to become my wife. I will caution you, therefore, to guard your tongue.” His voice was icy as he continued. “I realize it is rather short notice, but I would appreciate your help with the arrangements.”

  “Short notice? It is indecently short. It is impossible! You cannot reserve St. George’s—”

  “We don’t need St. George’s, Meg. Any church will do.”

  “Are you telling me you truly intend to marry this woman?”

  “Have I not just said so? I have not asked for your blessing or approval, Margaret, only for your assistance.”

  “Please, Ned, I am sorry. I do not wish to provoke you, but are you sure you have thought this through carefully? I have seen your interest in Miss Stillwell, but is it really necessary for you to marry her?”

  He rose irritably to his feet. “I wish to marry her, Meg! If you do not intend to give me the aid I seek, I will apply to Lady Brent. I am certain she will be more than happy—”

  “No, Ned, that will not be necessary. I am beginning to believe you are in earnest, and no one knows better than I that once you have made up your mind, there will be no changing it.”

  Later that day Oliver Seaton tracked his elder brother down at his club. “I have just spent half an hour with Meg,” Oliver said. “She is convinced we need to talk. Do we?”

  Rudley put his newspaper aside and motioned his brother into a black hide armchair near his. Muffled voices mingled with the soft rustle of newspapers. A pale blue haze of cigar smoke hung in the air.

  “Do you agree with her that I am marrying beneath my station?” Rudley asked.

  “Of course not. But I must admit your haste does concern me. Are you certain? You have known her barely two months.”

  “Let me ask you this, Oliver. How does your relationship stand with Miss Harrington?”

  “It prospers. And I think—I hope—that we may have a future together. But I have not spoken, nor will I, for it is much too soon.”

  “But you see,” Rudley countered, “our suits differ in one respect. You have the time you need to court your lady properly. I, on the other hand, had not that opportunity. Miss Stillwell feels she has waited long enough to wed. She hinted that this would most likely be her last opportunity to come to town, and I am convinced she intended to accept an offer before the Season ended. I had hoped to bide my time, but when I learned she was seriously considering another offer, I had no choice but to speak.”

  “Why had you no choice?”

  “Because I felt that if she married someone else, I would suffer a great loss—a painful loss.”

  “And if you are wrong?”

  “Like I was about Arabella? Should I spend the rest of my life alone because I fear making another poor choice?”

  “No, I am not suggesting that. I only wish it was not happening so quickly.”

  “I am no longer the callow youth of twenty-two who became infatuated with Arabella. Call it a sixth sense, call it instinct if you like, but I am telling you, Oliver, this match is right for me.”

  “Then allow me to be the first to wish you happy.”

  Rudley accepted his brother’s outstretched hand with goodwill and shortly thereafter the two left the club together. As they strolled down the street spe
aking of other things, Rudley wondered if his brother would have acquiesced so readily if he had told him that his chosen bride was in love with another man.

  Katherine contracted a cold that kept her at home for four days. Thus, when the news of her engagement was passed to the earl’s family and spread from there to society at large, she was not privileged to hear any of society’s initial reaction firsthand. This varied greatly, from those shocked at what they considered the greatest mésalliance of the Season, to those friends of the earl who were pleased and happy for him.

  On Katherine’s first day out of the house she had a fitting at the dressmaker’s. Upon her return she found Rudley awaiting her in the drawing room. He had been reading the paper, but when she entered he cast it aside and stood.

  “I have missed you. Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes, much better, thank you.”

  “You look tired. You must not do too much too soon.”

  “I only had a fitting; it was not too much. Charity tells me that you had an uncomfortable scene with Lady Milicent.”

  “Uncomfortable is a more temperate word than I would use. She gave me a severe reproof.”

  “Not in public, surely?”

  “Not exactly,” he said. “Only in front of Oliver. I was not embarrassed for myself, only for her. She sounded much like a small child deprived of a favorite toy. Then, not more than an hour ago, I received the cut direct from her mother in Bond Street. She stopped, looked at me as if I were a slug from the garden, then brushed by without so much as a ‘Good day’.”

  “I feel rather sorry for Lady Milicent,” Katherine said. “You did pay special attention to her; I noticed it myself. It must be disappointing for her to have her hopes crushed.”

  “What you saw was no more attention than I have shown to any number of women over the past several years. If I offered marriage to every woman I have danced with more than once in an evening or taken up a few times in my curricle, I should have a harem at home.”

  She opened her eyes wide in mock reproof. “You are assuming they all would have you, my lord. Such conceit! I had no idea you had such a fatal flaw. Who knows how many more I may discover as I come to know you better?” At that moment she noticed a handsome arrangement of flowers placed on the table nearby. She moved close, touching one delicate blossom with a fingertip. “If, as I suspect, these are from you, we should add extravagance to the list.”

  When he did not answer, she turned to find that his smile had vanished. Her own faded as he said, “I know I have a great many faults. Is this your way of saying that you have doubts about us, Katherine, or doubts about me?”

  She was genuinely shocked at the serious turn the conversation had taken. “No! Certainly not,” she denied, “I was only teasing you. You are not conceited, not in the least. But you are extravagant,” she added judiciously.

  At her smile he relaxed again and crossed the room to stand before her. “I am relieved to hear it, but I fear you will find this extravagant of me, too.” He held a tiny jeweler’s case on his open palm.

  After staring at it for a moment and then glancing up at him, she opened it carefully and drew in her breath in surprise. Nestled in dark brown velvet was the most stunning sapphire she had ever seen. It was a perfect stone, surrounded by tiny diamonds. He lifted it from the box as she offered her finger to receive it.

  “Miss Harrington told me the size; it should fit.” The ring slid snugly over the knuckle and glowed on her hand as if it were lit from within.

  She looked from the ring to his face, her pleasure reflected in her eyes. “I do not know what to say. It is breathtaking.”

  “And extravagant.”

  She laughed. “Yes, extravagant. But so lovely.”

  “There are a great many rings in the family collection,” he explained, “but I wanted to get a new one, symbolic of our new beginning together. I remember you once said you admired sapphires and this particular one took my fancy.”

  He raised her hand to his lips, and when he released it she threw both arms about his neck in an impulsive embrace. His arms closed around her back as he held her tightly against his chest and felt her lips brush his cheek. “Thank you,” she breathed near his ear. “I will cherish it always.”

  Having given herself into his embrace, she could do little until he released her. He did so reluctantly, discovering it was pleasant to hold her so, her body molded to his. He realized the hug she had given him was little more than a sisterly embrace; nevertheless, it was the first physical overture she had made to him, and he was pleased by it. It had been spontaneous; it was a beginning.

  “I have just spent several hours with my solicitor,” Rudley said, “finalizing the marriage settlements. There are several details you and I must discuss.”

  “I know nothing of such things, my lord,” she said as he led her to a sofa and sat beside her.

  “I understand, and under normal circumstances I would consult your father or guardian. But since that is impossible, I am afraid I must impose upon you.”

  Now is the time to tell him, Katherine thought, tell him everything, let him deal with Sir Humphrey in his own way. But before her lips could form even the first word, Rudley was speaking again, asking her a question.

  “Do you own any property that I should be aware of?”

  “The house in which we lived in Lincolnshire did not belong to us,’’ she said. “When my mother died her income was divided equally between Serena and me. We receive it quarterly from a solicitor’s firm in Exeter. I have some jewelry from my mother but no dowry, nothing to bring to my marriage.”

  She had begun this discourse looking at him, but as the inadequacies of her fortune were verbalized and she realized anew how uneven a match Rudley had chosen for himself, her gaze fell.

  He startled her when he took her chin and lifted her face to his. “I do not require a dowry from you,” he said. “If you had one, I would assign it to your sister or perhaps to the daughters you may someday have. Your mother’s income you may also keep, to do with as you please. There is something else I should like you to know for your own peace of mind. I have, as part of the settlements, provided a dowry for Serena. It is handsome, but if you wish to discourage fortune hunters you need only say it is modest.”

  Providing for Serena had been Katherine’s goal for so long that her smile was spontaneous and her sense of gratitude overwhelming. “How generous you are, sir, and to a girl you have never even met!”

  “She is your sister, and that is enough. There is one other matter we must discuss: our honeymoon,” he continued. “Where should you like to go? The Continent? Greece?”

  Her face immediately clouded. “I thought you intended to return to Hampshire. Surely you said you wished to do so?”

  “Yes, I do. And I would have gone soon had you refused me, but you have accepted and every bride deserves a honeymoon. Should you not like it?”

  “Yes, I should, very much. But you would miss the spring planting if we went now, and you said you were eager to be home for that.”

  “True.”

  “And I must admit I am curious about my new home and eager to meet Pamela. Besides, you said that spring in Hampshire is more beautiful than anywhere else.”

  “Also true, but I am biased. Well, there is a simple enough solution. We shall repair to Rudley Court after the ceremony and postpone the wedding trip to another time, perhaps the winter, when a warmer clime and sunny skies will be most appealing.”

  Less than an hour after the earl left Katherine, one of the Brent footmen brought her a letter just arrived with the morning post. She regarded it with interest, for it was directed in the unmistakable hand of her stepfather. She knew he disliked correspondence and, indeed, had heard nothing from him since her precipitate departure several months earlier.

  She broke the seal and spread the single sheet.

  Briarwood Place

  Lincolnshire

  Katherine,

  No doubt i
t will surprise you to hear from me, yet I was obliged to write when I heard (one of my acquaintance having got the news from one of Lord Harrington’s footmen) of your recent engagement. I must say, girl, that you have shown me to be wrong. I never thought you had it in you to land a fish the weight of Rudley. For all they say his pockets are deep, his manners cannot be so grand, for I had no proper request for your hand—neither in person nor through the post. I know you will say you are of age, but custom would require the man speak with me all the same. In any case, you have done well for yourself and should want for nothing. I, on the other hand, having not your good fortune, find myself short at the moment and would appreciate whatever you could spare me. If you find yourself unable to accommodate me, perhaps I should take the time to come and visit your betrothed, a discussion of marriage settlements not being out of the question.

  Your stepfather, Sir Humphrey Corey

  Katherine folded the sheet with a sigh. She knew Sir Humphrey had few friends in London and had hoped he would not learn of her wedding until after it had taken place. She certainly did not need to read between the lines to understand his thinly veiled threat. She drew a sheet of writing paper from Lady Brent’s secretaire and folded it, carefully enclosing a five-pound note.

  She could not bear the thought of Rudley asking Sir Humphrey for her hand. The very idea was ludicrous. She tried to imagine Sir Humphrey at her wedding, paying lavish, unwelcome compliments to all the ladies, then regaling them with slightly off-color stories, drinking too much—how he loved free wine—and talking too loudly. She carefully opened the sheet and added another five pounds before refolding it and applying the sealing wax. It was little enough to keep Sir Humphrey out of London and far away from her wedding ceremony.

  *

  Chapter 8

  Lady Finley promised her brother she would help with his wedding plans, but the result of their combined efforts exceeded even her expectations. No one attending would have imagined such a fine and well-managed affair had been arranged in a mere forty days. Every detail, from the magnificent flowers to the delectable food, had been seen to personally by her ladyship. Only the best would do for her brother’s wedding; she accepted nothing less. The number of guests was small—just over one hundred—and this fact alone made Lady Finley’s job considerably easier. The earl had insisted on inviting only family and intimate friends. His first wedding had been one of the major social events of the Season; he intended for this ceremony to be quite different.