The Accidental Elopement (Scandalous Miss Brightwells Book 4) Read online

  Katherine shot a glance at her aunt to see if she were funning or perhaps taking offence on George’s account. This was her first visit in a year to Bath to stay with her aunt and Lord Quamby, but her last was memorable for making her debut at the Assembly Rooms. There, a gentleman had asked Aunt Antoinette if she were Katherine’s sister, declaring her ‘a golden-haired’ manifestation of Katherine. The remark had delighted Aunt Antoinette, shocked Katherine, and prompted her mother to use it as an example of why her daughter should not be trusting of gentlemen who were only after ‘one thing’. This cryptic phrase, with no elaboration, had been confusing, but the incident had made Katherine more observant of her aunt who seemed to lead her life as if it were one great big adventure with nothing more important than drinking champagne and being feted by gentlemen.

  “Antoinette, you mustn’t speak about the boy like that in front of Katherine,” her mother now said before asking briskly, “And did you see any handsome gentleman whose acquaintance you’d like to further, Katherine?”

  “Bearing in mind they must also have a nicely plump pocketbook. Such a sighting would save your parents the cost of your London season,” her aunt responded with a laugh. “You’d be very welcome to remain here and further any acquaintance you desire as long as they are quite of the Upper Five Hundred. Or, since your mama declares she wants you to follow your heart, the Upper One Thousand.”

  Lady Fenton ignored her sister, her gaze still focused on Katherine. “Darling, I’m being serious. Did you meet anyone? And don’t listen to your aunt. You know your father and I want you to wed only when your heart is properly engaged.”

  Katherine played with her reticule while she formed a careful answer for her mind was filled with thoughts of Jack. “No, Mama, I didn’t see anyone.”

  “So, it’s off to London in a week then!” declared Aunt Antoinette gaily. “I’m so glad. I’d have hated to be deprived of my fun in the metropolis.”

  Katherine let her mother and aunt converse on either side of her while she continued to dream of the young man she’d not seen but with whom she’d shared such an exciting kiss in the dark. It had been as pleasurable and as exciting as she’d imagined it would be, though she was aware the sensations might have been heightened by its illicit edge.

  When the carriage drew to a halt in front of the portico of Quamby House where she and her parents would stay until they travelled to London, her heart suddenly began skittering around her chest cavity. It was silly, she berated herself, because she’d known Jack for years. Admittedly, when she’d last seen him they’d initially been wary of each other until one of the earl’s dogs had gone missing. During the subsequent search, however, they’d reestablished the old rapport, daring each other to more outrageous exploits, balancing on overturned tree trunks to cross streams and climbing overhanging tree branches. They’d been filthy when they’d returned but very happy, the bonds of old friendship fully restored.

  “Come along, Katherine. Don’t keep everyone waiting!” Her mother was waiting for her by the carriage while Aunt Antoinette was already being admitted through the double doors. “The Patmores are here already. Please be kind to Jack. You treated him so abominably as a child as I recall, but do remember he’s officially adopted. He’s not the foundling boy you had at your beck and call when you were younger.”

  That was what her mother thought, Katherine mused as she followed her mother. Jack would always be at her beck and call. Why else would she like him so much?

  Annoyed to find her heart positively racing by the time she neared the drawing room door, she wondered why since she was neither embarrassed nor feeling ashamed of her behaviour with Jack. She supposed it was because Jack had entered into the experiment with his usual good humour. And that’s what it had been: an experiment, not a romantic adventure.

  “Katherine, you’ve turned into quite the beauty!” declared Eliza Patmore as Katherine curtsied demurely in front of her and her husband. Although Katherine had been aware of the young man beside them who had risen at her entrance, she hadn’t yet ventured a look in his direction.

  “Thank you, Mrs Patmore,” she murmured, before turning slightly and inclining her head. “And you must be Jack.” Suddenly, her heart was in her mouth and hammering like a tin drum though she kept her voice level and cool. “So nice to see you again.”

  He was nothing like the thirteen-year-old she remembered. The feel of his jawline and the touch of his lips in the dark had provided no inkling of what he’d look like when under scrutiny. His hair was the light, curling brown she remembered, but his lips were a more interesting shape. They were curved into a smile, now, his sparkling eyes boring into hers as if he were sharing a private joke with her, except that she wasn’t ready to enter into the fun. In fact, she wasn’t sure what to think for she’d always had the upper hand, and yet now, Jack Patmore was no longer the poor boy with no family; he was a young, handsome man of good standing.

  “Did you not recognise me?” he asked.

  Yes, she recognised him, but there was a jaunty confidence that was nothing like she’d expected. Of course, he’d always been easy-natured. Katherine had had a hard time whipping up his anger when she’d played a childish prank on him. For the most part though, she’d co-opted him into high jinks that had Cook running after them waving her wooden spoon, or Nanny shrieking with terror at a mouse the children had dropped into her work basket. So, while Katherine had never seen Jack lose his temper, she’d not expected he’d be so at ease in these surroundings. Yes, that’s what it was. He was the fortunate boy who’d been allowed a taste of the good life at Quamby House. He was supposed to be grateful and subservient, but now he was smiling and acting as if he were Katherine’s equal. It irritated her. Yes, that was the feeling that was niggling at her, she decided. Irritation. “Barely, for it’s been a long time since I saw you…”

  “Yes…a very long time.” He frowned. “When did I last see you?”

  “Five years ago,” she said quickly.

  “Five years ago. That’s a very long time. Surely we’ve…bumped into one another since then?”

  She felt the warmth in her cheeks. She, who never blushed. “Yes, five years ago I saw you. When I was twelve,” she said airily. It was ridiculous, but she suddenly couldn’t think of anything the least bit clever or lively to say.

  The look he sent her was wicked but Katherine was not going to pretend to share the humour. Of course, she shouldn’t have kissed him in the dark. She’d thought herself terribly clever, but now she felt she’d played into his hands.

  “We’re unleashing Katherine on local society so she doesn’t embarrass her poor parents when she goes to London, isn’t that right, Fanny?” Aunt Antoinette appealed to her sister, waving at the servant to pour the claret.

  “When have I ever embarrassed them before?” Katherine retorted, gaining courage and taking a glass of claret before her father plucked it from her hands. Nevertheless, this is what he did, saying, “You may have attended your first ball but this is for grown-ups, my dear.”

  “Papa! I might be married in a month!”

  “That would be working fast, my dear,” said Aunt Antoinette. “Even faster than your mother when she was unleashed on London society all those years ago. Not that she was distinguished by her speed. More, her tenacity and daring. It took her a full two seasons to snare handsome Fenton.” She flashed a smile at her brother-in-law before greeting her son who’d just walked into the room. “George, you’ve returned at last! Say hello to Jack. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.”

  “You were at the ball.” George pointed an accusing finger at Jack as he ran a chunky, ring-adorned hand through his fashionably curled hair. “As soon as you saw me, you disappeared. It was you, wasn’t it?”

  Jack looked innocent. “Lord, how rude of me. Was that you coming towards me? Truth is, I lost my nerve when I found myself surrounded by strangers.” He sent the other youth a disarming smile. “Every young lady in that roo
m seemed to look down her nose at me, so I decided to beat a hasty retreat. If I’d known it was you, George, I’d have asked you to introduce me to some people. Maybe someone whom I could have asked to dance.”

  George pursed his lips and swivelled his eyes between Jack’s earnest face and his mother’s smiling approval. Won over by the fact that Jack appeared to look up to him, he said reassuringly, “Course I would have, Jack. I always stuck up for you when we were children. Don’t know what you’d have done without me looking out for you if the truth be told.”

  “I don’t know, either,” Jack agreed.

  George stuffed his thumbs into his waistband. “Cousin Katherine was forever planning something devious to shame you, Jack, just because you were an orphan.” He jutted out his jaw and looked collaboratively at Jack before frowning at Katherine and saying upon a sigh, “The number of times I stopped her from tormenting you when you had no one”

  “Yes, yes, George, I’m sure we all remember those days,” his mother interrupted, raising her eyes to the ceiling and fanning herself. “But let’s turn the topic to the plans for fun and excitement we’ve devised for our guests here the next few days. I expect you to be on your best behaviour and to be the perfect host. We don’t want poor Katherine rushing off to London thinking she couldn’t have escaped fast enough.” Aunt Antoinette smiled at Jack. “And your presence will be much appreciated, Jack, because we’ve hired a dancing master for Katherine only George says he won’t dance. So, I hope you don’t mind”

  “I will dance,” George objected.

  “You said you’d refuse, darling, because you had more important things in town and you’d be leaving tomorrow.”

  George rolled his shoulders. “Well, I’ve changed my mind,” he muttered. “That was before I met Katherine again after so long and…and realised how grateful she’d be to have a dancing partner. I’m not about to shirk my duties as host while Katherine and Jack are here. Not when it could be just like the wonderful old days.”

  And as Katherine glanced between George and Jack, she felt she really was returning to those wonderful old days where Jack was her friend and ally and teasing George promised to be so much fun.

  Chapter 3

  The wonderful old days had been anything but wonderful as far as Jack was concerned. Life at the foundling home was spartan, and survival depended on charming the wardens and being a step ahead of the children who would snitch or steal for an extra spoonful of gruel.

  The only wonderful highlights of Jack’s years from infancy to when he was eight years old were his thrice-weekly visits to Quamby House. The supervisor at the foundling home had told Jack a permanent position as a bootboy might be in the offing. However, the earl and his countess, who seemed to him like genial royalty, insisted instead that Jack must ‘play’. Jack soon learned that the words work and play were interchangeable. Jack’s job was to ‘play’ with the earl’s son, George, a large, lumpish, spoiled, and self-absorbed boy, who was an only child and needed a playmate. Apparently, in the eyes of Lord and Lady Quamby, this constituted work as their son was, they told him, ‘not an easy boy’.

  George had been resistant at first, and had Jack feeling disinclined to court the society of a child who was so unappreciative of his good fortune, but Jack soon learned that trailing the bigger boy was an assured way of getting lots of good food. Unaccountably, the cook formed a fondness for him, and never did he return to the foundling home without a covered basket full of treats he would share with the other children, thus shoring up his power and popularity there.

  Not that Jack had sought power for any other reason than to get enough to eat, but now that he was eighteen and would soon be proving himself in the West Indies, he realised his early days had provided useful training in understanding how children and adults manipulated one another for different objectives.

  George was clearly keen to impress Katherine and prove his dominance over Jack—just like the old days—so it was easy to slip back into the old patterns that had worked in the past.

  Maturity, of course, altered matters a little. Katherine was conscious of her blossoming beauty, he could see, while George remained as unaware of external forces as he had ever been.

  Chief among these pleasures was eating, though it appeared he’d suddenly discovered a passion for dancing, and squiring Katherine in a polka or waltz was, he declared, an important cousinly duty.

  “She’s quite green, so she’ll need a bit of dash if she’s to carry it off on the dance floor,” he told Jack the morning after Jack’s arrival at Quamby House.

  “And you’re just the man to ensure she shows herself to advantage,” Jack responded as they tucked into the peach tart Cook had made. He found it touching that the old dear had remembered it used to be Jack’s favourite. “You’re the counterpoint to her grace, charm, and elegance.”

  “The counterpoint, yes,” George repeated, leaning back in his chair in the conservatory, though he sounded a little uncertain as to what Jack actually meant.

  “She appears so vibrant when she’s next to you,” Jack explained. “You’re bringing out her best.”

  George seemed to like this before asking if Jack would like to observe from the sidelines how he executed his clever moves on the dance floor with Katherine. With a smug grin, he added that he wasn’t one to keep his tricks to himself and, in view of their long friendship, he’d be pleased to teach Jack everything he knew.

  So, now Jack was reclining on a red-velvet-upholstered sofa he’d dragged into the vast, empty ballroom, and was nodding approval as George swung Katherine round and round the room to a less than perfect piano accompaniment.

  Almost perfect, in Jack’s eyes, however, was Katherine whose transformation from a spirited twelve-year-old to a beautiful and self-assured young woman was almost complete. He didn’t think she could be any lovelier, and he still couldn’t get over that he’d shared his first proper kiss with her the night before in the dark. He’d kissed girls before, though he decided these didn’t count since none of the consequent effects had been remotely like the incendiary response he’d experienced with Katherine.

  Not that Katherine appeared to consider it an earth-shattering experience. In fact, she’d been making it quite clear all day that their sensuous encounter in the dark had been nothing more than a piece of fun for her. At breakfast, she’d tossed her elaborately plaited and braided hair and raised her nose to the ceiling when Jack had said good morning, murmuring that she hadn’t been up long enough to tell. Jack wondered if the fact she wasn’t able to look him in the eye was because she was embarrassed, or if she really did think herself his superior.

  Her attitude amused him, which was why he’d dragged the old red velvet sofa into the ballroom. Watching so slavishly from the sidelines would surely annoy her.

  And, clearly, it did.

  After the third time that Jack complimented George on his technique and criticised Katherine on hers, she snapped.

  “Maybe you should try for yourself, Jack, instead of offering everyone else good advice.”

  “I was just offering you good advice,” said Jack innocently. “Not everyone.”

  “So, George doesn’t need improvement but I, who am to be launched in less than five days, have a long way to go? That’s what you inferred, Jack, and don’t you deny it. Are you so perfect that you’ve never stepped on anyone’s toes?”

  “I wouldn’t dare try what George is doing,” Jack said hastily. “The man’s a cream puff in trousers, and I’m nowhere near the expert he is. I’d only show what a clumsy oaf I am by comparison.”

  “Go on, try then,” George dared him, dropping his hands from about Katherine’s waist and shoulders and signalling for Jack to take his place. “Though what you say is true. Many a young lady, and not so young, has complimented me on how well I take the lead while ensuring she has such a pleasurable experience along the way.” He glanced at Katherine as if to gauge the effectiveness of his words, and Jack caught Katherine’s s
ecret eye roll as she tilted her face to glance at her new partner. A moment of shared hilarity reverberated through them as Jack rose and took George’s place, truncated with great effect by Jack’s loud objection that Katherine had started before the proper beat.

  “Do you really have two left feet, Jack?” Katherine said crossly as he pulled her closer to him, pretending to try and keep his balance.

  Together they lurched about the dance floor until the music finished after which Katherine threw up her hands and declared, “You’d have to be the worst dancer I’ve ever had the misfortune to partner.”

  “Jack! Jack, old chap, do watch more closely,” George admonished as he returned to squiring Katherine about.

  “But just for this one last dance,” warned Katherine. “My feet are bruised all over from Jack stepping on my toes, but George is such an athlete it quite takes my breath away. Really, George, with the pace you set, I truly can only manage one more dance.”

  Outside, alone together as George had reluctantly answered a summons from his uncle, Jack and Katherine had to hurry behind the broad trunk of an old oak tree before they collapsed into laughter.

  “Goodness, did you see how smug George looked when I called him an athlete!” Katherine giggled.

  “And how he loved to put me in my place,” Jack replied.

  “George is so easy to manage if he thinks he has the upper hand.” Katherine wiped the tears of laughter away from her face with the back of her hand and, still breathing rapidly, said, “Do say you’ll come to London with us. George is coming, and I don’t think I can bear even a week staying at Uncle Quamby’s townhouse if it’s just George and me. Didn’t your mama say it was a possibility?”

  “A possibility, but one already discounted,” Jack said feeling disappointed. “I board my ship for the West Indies in ten days, and I’d decided to forgo London and return home to pack.”