The Accidental Elopement (Scandalous Miss Brightwells Book 4) Page 17

  Bertram hesitated in the doorway and shook his head sadly. “Am I the only one with inspired ideas. Why, you and Antoinette were considered queens of your craft when you brought Eliza and her beloved Rufus Patmore together.”

  “Queens of our craft?” cried Antoinette, delighted. “Why Bertram, that is clever and I like it very much. And Fanny, what he says is true. You’ve turned into a proper curmudgeon. What happened to the bold sister I once knew who did not shy away from taking the risks needed to ensure the happy outcome desired? Would you really wish Katherine to enter another marriage not of her choosing just to be accepted by society?”

  “Of course I wouldn’t, but right now I can’t see an alternative. Katherine is miserable and has been for a very long time. She wishes to be welcomed by society, but she won’t be if she doesn’t marry Derry. And I hardly think even the boldest scheme is going to succeed in making Miss Worthington miraculously fall in love with Lord Derry, of all people, or anyone else. Besides, Lord Derry has wanted Katherine for his wife for more than seven years. Meanwhile, Odette Worthington is determined to wed Jack…in four weeks!”

  “Yes, the odds are stacked against us and we are working against the clock,” agreed Antoinette. “But making Miss Worthington fall in love with Derry is what must be arranged.” She nodded, thoughtfully, as if they were all agreed on a plan which Fanny had just outlined as being totally unworkable, if not outrageous.

  “I’ll start by influencing Derry.” Bertram rested his cane against the back of the sofa and went to the sideboard to pour himself another drink. “Remember that you’re looking at the clever fellow who masterminded dear Thea and Grayling’s very successful romance.”

  “Which nearly sent Aunt Brightwell to the moon in a balloon when matters got totally out of hand,” Fanny reminded him.

  “But matters didn’t,” Bertram countered cheerfully, raising his glass then tossing back the contents. “So, with such a stellar past experience to buck us up, you can rest assured that I will soon have matters well in hand as regards Derry and Miss Worthington.” The grin he fixed upon his sisters softened as he turned his attention to Eliza. “No need to look so concerned, my dear girl; they don’t call me dependable Bertram for nothing.”

  Chapter 22

  Katherine eyed the deep-blue-and-gold flounced gown longingly. It was so nearly time to put aside her mourning. And tonight’s entertainment was to be held at Quamby House. So, surely she could wear the exquisite confection that she’d just had made in preparation for the moment she could fling off her mourning forever.

  She’d spent money she didn’t have, but her father had been generous. She knew it was taking advantage of that generosity to outlay such a proportion of what he’d made over to her in order to survive, but deporting herself like a lady was tantamount to survival.

  “Dare I put that on, Mary?” she asked her maid who’d just entered the room. She’d not have bothered to ask the question if it had been Millicent, her previous lady’s maid, a severe middle-aged woman secured for her by her mother-in-law seven years ago.

  But Millicent had died of the scarlet fever while visiting her village and Katherine had been thrilled to have her own choice of retainer.

  Mary pressed her lips together but her eyes shone. “Ooh, Miss, if yer dare ter wear it, I’ll dare to fix yer hair so’s at all the gennulmen won’t be able ter look at anyone else but ye.”

  “That’s not the idea at all, Mary,” said Katherine. “Besides, there’s only one I want to do that.”

  “Lord Derry?” asked Mary matter-of-factly as she went to Katherine’s dressing table and started selecting pins and hair pieces.

  “Not Lord Derry,” Katherine said under her breath, not expecting Mary to jerk her head up and look at her with surprise. Only when Katherine demanded that she must explain her response did Mary say reluctantly, “The talk is that ye’ll wed Lord Derry jest as soon as yer cast aside yer mournin’.”

  “Well, I’m casting aside my mourning—temporarily—tonight, but I have no intention of wedding Lord Derry either tonight, tomorrow, or any other day.”

  Mary looked uncertain which again had Katherine saying, “Come on, out with it! There’s something you’ve heard that you don’t want me to hear, I gather.”

  “Jest that the servants were sayin’ the talk is yer ‘ave no choice but ter marry Lord Derry.”

  “No choice? Why have I no choice? Come on, Mary, tell me!”

  But Katherine knew it already. Her reputation was so tarnished by her association with the handsome, smitten, and very attentive Lord Derry, she had little alternative but to marry him if she were to reenter the echelons of society that had barred first Freddy and then both of them. And Katherine knew very well that her daughter’s future depended upon society’s acceptance.

  “Ain’t me place, ma’am,” Mary said in a small voice, and Katherine let it be, silent as Mary helped her dress in the new gown she’d decided she’d wear, regardless of the scandal. There wasn’t much worse she could do, after all.

  Tonight, Katherine found herself unaccountably nervous to venture over the threshold of what was really her second home. No, that wasn’t true. She knew very well why she was nervous. Tonight she’d see Jack playing the attentive husband-to-be and know that he was forever out of bounds. He’d not give up Odette for her. Katherine had missed her chance—if she’d ever had a chance. Timing and circumstance had not favoured either of them.

  “Katherine, what a charming picture you present—a symphony in sea green. Or is the colour a variation on blue?” Earl Quamby, leaning on the shoulder of his young Mediterranean companion, hobbled a few steps towards her and kissed her hand.

  “It’s called teal,” said Katherine, glad of a welcome from the person least likely to condemn her for her decision to eschew mourning. “It’s a colour combination using a clever technique.”

  “Well, a clever technique, plan, or device it was to arrive as a treat to the eyes, rather than a sight to conjure up a hunched-up crow as you would have appeared had you worn the dreadful black bombazine affair you turned up in last time I saw you.”

  “Mama will be displeased. I should be wearing full mourning for months yet.”

  “But you’re not mourning, are you?” Lord Quamby squeezed her hand and gave her a knowing look.

  “I never mourned him, Uncle,” Katherine said, not even feeling the slightest guilt, positioning herself on his other side so she could help him to a chair.

  “He didn’t deserve you, did he, my dear? A good thing he’s gone is what I say. A bloodsucker he was. Took your youth and innocence and then sucked you dry and your father for all he could get out of him to pay for his vices.”

  Katherine didn’t want to go over the past. Her mouth was suddenly dry for she’d glimpsed Jack in the crowd. She was able to look at him as he had his back to her, but the moment he turned in her direction, she darted her attention back to her uncle.

  “Someone caught your fancy, eh?” Lord Quamby said perceptively as, with a great deal of laboured breathing, he lowered himself onto a blue velvet Chippendale chair. “And why not? A pretty young woman like you? You’re a vision, Katherine, with the world at your feet. Don’t go marrying Lord Derry if you don’t want to, just because everyone says you have to. I’ve never listened to good advice.”

  “You’re the Earl of Quamby, and a man,” Katherine said softly, for she could speak to her uncle candidly. It was one of the reasons he’d been such an important member of the family to which she belonged.

  “They are advantages.” He looked kind and a little sad, too. Then he whispered, “But sometimes a chance can pay off, Katherine. Even if the risks are truly terrible. We get few chances at happiness.”

  “Katherine! You look—” Her mother stopped abruptly, the smile turning to a look of worry as Katherine rose from her uncle’s side.

  “You were going to compliment me, weren’t you, Mama, until you remembered I’m flouting convention and you disapprove,�
� Katherine bristled.

  “It’s the fact society will disapprove that concerns me, darling,” said Lady Fenton, nodding at her brother-in-law and drawing her daughter to an alcove so they couldn’t be overheard by an interested group of guests standing nearby. “Katherine, believe me, I want you to be happy. I know it’s been hard for you, but you must curb your impulsiveness.”

  She might have softened the rebuke in the next sentence only suddenly Jack was at her mother’s side, with Odette clinging to his arm, and Katherine had no choice but to turn her attention to the man who set her pulses racing and manage a cordial nod at his intended.

  “You’re looking lovely this evening, Miss Worthington,” she complimented her. “I hope your father’s health has improved.”

  “Thank you. Indeed it has, much to everyone’s relief. I’d feared I might have to bring forward our nuptials, but the date remains. My dressmaker was very pleased.” Miss Worthington directed a happy smile at Jack who responded in kind.

  Katherine turned her head away, only to find Lord Derry leaving his conversation with her Uncle Bertram and advancing upon them. Her heart suddenly seemed very heavy.

  Gritting her teeth as she prepared to be invited to partner him in the waltz that was about to begin, she was surprised and relieved when, after the necessary formalities, he bowed before Miss Worthington and offered her his arm.

  “I hope Mr Patmore won’t object if I squire his fair maiden onto the polished boards,” he asked. “I’ve heard she’s an excellent dancer. Learned to dance with the best of them in India, eh?”

  Suddenly, Katherine found herself alone with Jack, her mother having slid away, too. Unaccountably awkward, her body thrummed with possibility when Jack raised his eyebrows and asked, “Would you like to dance, Katherine? Or is that not allowed when you’re in mourning? Not that anyone would know it.” His eyes twinkled.

  “Do you disapprove, like everyone else?”

  “I’d never disapprove of you, Katherine,” he told her, patting her hand as she rested it on his arm and he led her towards the floor.

  “You’re the only one, then.”

  “I’ve probably known you longer than anyone. Except your own family, of course. And I know there’s not an ounce of malice or unkindness in you.” He put one hand about her waist and took her other hand for the waltz hold before they both stepped onto the dance floor.

  “I haven’t danced for so long I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed it,” Katherine gasped as he twirled her about, though she realised it was as much her companion that accounted for her pleasure. A frisson of sadness enveloped her prompting Jack to ask, concerned, “I didn’t step on your toe, did I?”

  “I wouldn’t have cared if you did,” Katherine laughed, determined not to spoil the moment.

  “Then why did you suddenly look as if you were gripped by pain?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “I wouldn’t have accused you if you hadn’t. You can’t pretend with me, Katherine. I know you too well.”

  She glanced up at him, suddenly serious. “All right then. It’s because you’re going to marry Odette Worthington, and I’ll never see you again.”

  He hesitated as if weighing up what to say. She thought he’d say what convention might have decreed: that of course they’d see each other again. Instead, he said, solemnly, “I’m obligated to marry Odette. You know that, Katherine.”

  “Just as I’m obligated to marry Lord Derry. Do you think that?”

  “I don’t think you should feel obligated to do anything you don’t want to, Katherine. You can cry off. Yes, you’ll suffer for it, and no doubt you’re weighing up whether the consequences are worth it.” He looked away briefly before bringing his troubled gaze back to her. “I can’t cry off. I’m a gentleman, and a gentleman has a code of honour that dictates every sphere of his life. Perhaps you’d be called shameless; perhaps you’d be shunned if you didn’t marry Derry. But I would be branded a cad, no longer a gentleman, if I were to break off with Odette now, a month before our wedding and with her father so ill. And…” His voice trailed off. “I would break her heart.”

  Just as you are breaking mine, Katherine thought, though his words thrilled her for the fact they said so much of his true feelings.

  “Did you miss me, Jack?” she whispered.

  Light flared in his eyes, which dulled as Derry and Odette brushed past them in a swirl of lavender taffeta and black suiting.

  “I missed you, Katherine. I missed you when I left. Desperately. But we both knew a future was impossible. You weren’t about to throw in your lot with me in some mad, impulsive declaration that your heart had taken leave of your senses. I knew that…” He frowned, and Katherine bit down on the impulse to say the words that would give the lie to his long-held belief. Words that would also throw into turmoil his basis of honour. The transluscent blue of his steady, earnest gaze sent need skittering through her—the need for him; the need that he know the truth…

  The need that he be protected from a truth that would only imprison him between two impossible choices.

  “Do you have any regrets?” She straightened her spine.

  Again, he met her look, squarely. “A gentleman would not have taken what you offered so generously,” he said softly. “But I was a young man in love—with you, and the adventure I was about to embark upon. A gentleman was what I was determined to be…on my own merits. I do not regret our time together, for it sustained me through so much. But if I had my time again, I would have behaved more gallantly, Katherine.”

  Katherine tightened her grip on his hand. “I wouldn’t have changed any of it, Jack. The week before you left was the happiest of my life.”

  “And mine, Katherine—”

  “If I may intrude.” It was Derry, tall and commanding, reminding Jack what was his. What he believed was his. Without a word, Katherine transferred her hand to his forearm as he led her off the dance floor and Odette took her place.

  “I trust you enjoyed conversing with the future Mrs Patmore,” Katherine said lightly, shaken, exultant, unsettled over her conversation with Jack. “She looked in a talkative mood.”

  “Were you jealous?”

  “What a question!” Katherine knew she shouldn’t have snapped out the words.

  He stopped and stared down at her, storm clouds and sorrow in his gaze. “I’d never cause you grief or harm, intentionally, Katherine. Unlike Freddy. You know I’d be a good husband.”

  “It’s too early for words like that,” Katherine said tightly.

  “Anyone who didn’t know the truth would have no idea you were a widow. Surely I could be forgiven for taking the same licence you do.”

  Katherine sighed. “It was churlish of me. You confuse me, Derry. I’m sorry. But tell me, what did Miss Worthington speak of?”

  “Her father, her life in India, her desire for a home in England, her love of theatre—”

  Katherine put up her hand to stay him. “I should have asked if there was anything Miss Worthington did not speak about!”

  “She certainly was a good deal more talkative than you, Katherine.” He raised one eyebrow as if challenging Katherine to make a spirited defence.

  Which she might have if she’d cared.

  Instead, she looked longingly at Jack’s back and wondered what he and Miss Worthington talked about during the many hours they spent together.

  And if Jack ever spoke about what was really important to him.

  ***

  “Did you hear what I said, Fanny? You really aren’t paying attention, are you?” Antoinette grumbled, causing her sister to at last transfer her attention away from the dance floor.

  “I’ve been watching Katherine’s face while she’s been speaking to Jack, and it’s breaking my heart. She’s in love with him, Antoinette! Why did I not see what was right under my nose? And she can’t have him!”

  “She’s going to have him,” Antoinette vowed, breathing through her nose. “Bertram!” She hailed her brot
her. “I saw you talking to Lord Derry. What did you instruct him?”

  “Unlike you, Antoinette, I do not instruct. I use the art of subtlety to achieve my ends.” Bertram’s irrepressible grin stretched his mouth wide as he joined them. Bertram always seemed so pleased with himself, Fanny thought in exasperation. Like as not, he’d make things worse.

  “And how did you subtly convey your desire that he make Miss Worthington fall in love with him?”

  “Lord, now you’re being ridiculous, Antoinette!” he grumbled. “I merely commented that I’d overheard Miss Worthington telling a friend that of all the gentlemen in the room, she considered Lord Derry far and away the most handsome.”

  Fanny darted a glance at Lord Derry who was now talking to Katherine, and noticed that his gaze occasionally rose above her shoulder to settle upon Miss Worthington who was talking in her usual animated fashion to Jack. She was about to compliment her brother on his strategy, when a slight rearrangement of the room caused the betrothed pair to be pushed into their orbit and Fanny seized her chance, clapping her hand upon Odette’s shoulder.

  “I’m going to steal away your intended if you have no objection, Jack. Your mother has been looking for you and is by the long windows. So, Odette,” she went on when Jack had obediently headed towards Eliza, “how are you finding life in London with your intended and so much to organise?”

  “It’s everything I could have hoped for.”

  Said like a true debutante swooning with love, Fanny thought dolefully.

  “You’ve certainly made more than a ripple, my dear. Only in the best possible way,” Fanny added quickly in response to the flare of concern in Odette’s eye.

  “You’re certain I shouldn’t be aware of…anything that might be of concern?”

  “Not at all,” Fanny said warmly. “Why, I overheard Lord Derry telling my nephew George he hadn’t seen a more charming and delightful young woman as you in all the seasons he’s been hunting for a wife.”