Читать книгу Regency Vows: A Gentleman 'Til Midnight / The Trouble with Honour / An Improper Arrangement / A Wedding By Dawn / The Devil Takes a Bride / A Promise by Daylight - Julia London, Alison DeLaine - Страница 39

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

KATHERINE FACED THE wind coming off the sea and tried to pretend its cold bite was what stung her eyes to tears. Damnation. She was stronger than this. She knew better. Clouds churned in the sky, and whitecaps chopped the gray, restless water. A cool, salty breeze whipped her hair and chilled the damp tracks on her cheeks.

“Are you crying again, Mama?” Anne asked.

Sometimes it would be nice if her daughter weren’t quite so perceptive. “A little. But you mustn’t worry.”

“The sound of the waves makes me happy, Mama. If you listen, they might make you happy, too.”

Katherine reached for Anne’s hand and turned, pulling strands of hair from her face to stare at the fortress that was Dunscore. “Perhaps they will at that.” But the sound of waves on Dunscore’s shore only brought the memories back more strongly. Yesterday this place had been a ghost—as lost to her as the girl she’d been the last time she stepped over its threshold. But the moment the coach had rolled to a stop outside Dunscore’s massive doors, what was dead had sprung to life.

Home. Home. Home.

Her heart thundered the word she knew better than to reach for.

“Mama, you’re squeezing.”

Katherine loosened her grip. “I’m sorry, dearest.” Where the east tower once stood, a pile of rubble now sat.

Fortify the east tower! What a silly muffin you are, Katie. That tower has stood for six hundred years, and mark my words, it will stand for six hundred more. Come—let us order the phaeton. I fancy a fast ride and a visit to Deal.

Oh, Papa.

Across the velvety landscape that hugged Dunscore’s walls she spotted the housekeeper Martha marching toward them, her crisp white apron billowing in the wind. Katherine already knew what the message was: Lord Deal had arrived.

One night’s reprieve was all she could afford. Today, she and Lord Deal would discuss an arrangement. It was imperative that she marry before the committee could decide against her. Lord Deal was the only one she would consider, and she would need to make that very clear to him.

Lord Deal, I insist that we marry. No, that didn’t sound right at all.

Lord Deal, I assure you I would make a most biddable wife. He would never believe it.

Lord Deal, you are my only hope. Pathetic.

Nothing sounded right. Nothing felt right. But of course it wouldn’t. This was a last resort. A desperate situation.

And you are in love with another man.

She pushed the thought of James away. “Come,” she said to Anne, tugging lightly on her hand. “I see Martha.” Martha’s disapproving scowl, to be precise. Its sternness matched the imposing gray walls behind her as she met them partway along the trail that led from the castle to the sea.

“Ach, Katie!” Martha cried, fisting her hands on her hips. “You canna see him looking like this!”

“Will I scare him away, do you think?” She looped her arm through Martha’s, honestly unsure whether to hope for or dread the possibility. She should have been inside preparing for Lord Deal’s visit, having her hair carefully coiffed and powdered and her face brightened with a subtle layer of paint. Instead, she would receive her future husband looking as wild as this place where the rocky shore touched the North Sea.

“The most terrible demon would be scared away by the likes of you,” Martha humphed, and Anne giggled. The three of them headed back to the keep, Anne’s hand in Katherine’s, and Katherine’s arm in Martha’s, the sea wind pushing at their backs. With each step, Katherine’s nerves swirled in fearful eddies in her belly.

Once she and Lord Deal came to an agreement, all this unpleasantness would soon be finished. And Anne’s place would be secure.

Miss Bunsby met them outside the door and took Anne. “But I want to greet Lord Deal, Mama,” Anne complained.

“Next time, dearest. I have business to discuss with him now.” If only she could put off the inevitable forever.

“Will you ask him about the phaeton?”

“I will ask.”

Martha still clucked and fussed after Miss Bunsby took Anne upstairs, brushing at Katherine’s dress and trying to pull her hair together. “At least have your hair done up, Katie,” she begged, clearly distressed. “What will he think of you like this?”

“He will think I’ve been enjoying the wilds of Dunscore. He’s seen me in gowns and jewels, Martha. It will be all right.”

“Humph.”

Katherine looked down the stone corridor that led toward the main hall. Light streamed into the arched passageway through a row of windows down the east side. A line of unlit sconces disappeared into the shadows.

Catch me, Papa! The ghost of the little girl she’d been ran headlong toward the end, laughing, pounding her feet on the stones.

Her grown-up feet did not want to move. Martha’s hands stilled and went to her face. “Don’t worry, Katie. They won’t dare take this place from you,” she said forcefully. And then, more softly, “Maybe his lordship can do something to help.”

A wild laugh rose up in her throat. She wanted desperately to put her arms around Martha and tell her everything just like she used to do after Mama died. But she couldn’t afford to break down now, so she kissed Martha’s cheek and gently set her away. “Perhaps he can at that.” She would tell Martha soon enough that Dunscore would, indeed, remain hers.

Anne’s voice drifted down the corridor. “Wait, Miss Bunsby. I want to feel the floor. I think it is made of great, giant stones!”

I shall step on every stone in the corridor, Papa. How long do you suppose it will take me?

Finally her feet moved.

* * *

“WELL, KATHERINE, WHAT do you think of your old home?” Lord Deal’s voice rang out but was quickly absorbed by the main hall’s vastness. Fires crackling in four fireplaces barely touched the cool, damp air, and he stood near the closest one holding out his hands. He turned now, and behind him the hall arched toward the sky.

“I think it is in dire need of repair.” Katherine walked toward him, her footsteps silent on the wide carpets, then muted on ancient wood planks. Giant paintings lined the walls—hunting scenes, battle scenes, scenes of Dunscore itself. Each one was like a piece of her, she knew them so well even after a lifetime away. On the opposite side, narrow windows rose toward the ceiling and let in the cloudy day’s muted light. Great iron chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Only two were lit, but the glow from dozens of candles helped chase away the gloom. “There was a time when I had great plans for it.” Plans that had included an addition to the north wing drafted by her great-great-grandfather. How many hours had she spent studying those old yellowed plans while Papa was away at his card games?

“Surely that time has come again,” Lord Deal said. She held out a hand that threatened to tremble, and he kissed it. “A pleasure, as always,” he told her kindly. “You’ve been outside. The weather’s a bit chill, is it not? Oh, but the sea is lovely on a day like this.”

“Yes, lovely.” His hand was warm and firm.

“And how is dear Anne faring?”

“Very well, except that I haven’t a moment’s peace with her asking when we might ride in your phaeton again.”

“She has but to say the word,” he declared, laughing.

“I will caution you now to set limits, or you’ll be spending more time in the phaeton than you ever dreamed possible.” She tried to smile, but fear made it too hard.

Lord Deal must have seen it, because his laughter faded. “I’m very sorry things weren’t resolved in precisely the way we’d hoped,” he said soberly. “But all will be well as soon as you marry—the committee will have no reason to rule against you then—and I feel certain it won’t be as bad as you think.” He smiled and patted her hand.

“Of course,” she said, and tried to return his smile. “Now please, do sit down and let’s discuss the details.”

He let go of her hand. “Of course, of course.” They settled into two oak armchairs by the fire. “Now, I’m not sure there are any details to discuss yet, of course, but I do have some thoughts. McGowan, for one. A bit older than you, but not by too much, and he’s an earl. A solid fellow—never been married. And there’s Arran, of course. Perhaps a bit flowery for a woman like you, but he’d do. And there’s Weogh—”

“Lord Deal.” There was no sense allowing the conversation to move any further in this direction. The time was ripe. “When we agreed to come to Scotland and discuss the details,” she said carefully, “I assumed—” A lick of panic flared. It would be so easy to fail. “I had no idea you intended to introduce me to someone else.”

A moment of genuine confusion knitted his brows.

She pressed on. “I assumed you and I would work out some kind of arrangement.”

“You and I!” Now there was genuine surprise. He managed a kind of half laugh edged with horror. “Good God, Katherine, you’re Cullen’s little girl. Bad enough to be patching you into a hasty marriage to a stranger, but me— Ach.” He rubbed his chin. “I’m afraid that possibility never crossed my mind.”

“Well perhaps it could cross your mind now,” she said flatly. “It makes good sense, given your relationship with my father and the proximity of the Deal and Dunscore estates.”

“Katherine—”

“I do not want to marry a stranger.”

“Of course not. But under the circumstances...” He cleared his throat. “You’d like McGowan. I’m sure of it.”

If there was one thing she could be sure of, it was that she would not like McGowan. Or Arran, or Weogh, or any other bloody pillock Lord Deal got it in mind to marry her off to. The fear that he might refuse to marry her made it difficult to smile. “My apologies, Lord Deal. I never meant to shock you. I had no idea we were not of the same mind on this subject.” It was only a small lie.

“No apology necessary, my dear.” He tried another laugh. “Such flattery, so early in the morning.”

“Let me assure you, I would do everything in my power to make you a suitable wife. I would be on my very best behavior. There would be no more scenes like the one at the ball.” His hand was warm and dry, with loose skin that wrinkled a little in her grasp. A knot in her stomach screamed for attention, but she ignored it.

“What a pity that would be, my dear.” He laughed again, perhaps a bit edgily. “I daresay the duke will think twice before he gets a mind to press his attentions where he’s not wanted. You may well have done womankind a favor.”

“I can’t say I regret it,” she admitted. “But I also understand the importance of propriety. I wouldn’t want you to think I can’t behave myself.”

He pulled his hand away. “Ach, no—no, I would never think that. But, Katie, you can hardly expect me to be inclined toward matrimony with a girl who once served me mud biscuits and seawater tea.”

“I promise I shan’t serve them again.” She laughed lightly, the way Phil might have, but his kindly brown eyes didn’t quite crinkle.

“My dear, when I look upon you I see a girl Anne’s age.”

Which was one of the reasons why he would make the perfect husband.

She leaned forward and reached for his hand again—slowly, deliberately—knowing full well her low-cut gown would give him a glimpse of more than it should. “I doubt that, my lord.” She was rewarded when his eyes flicked downward. No, he was not entirely immune.

His lips thinned.

“You can’t really intend to see me forcibly married to one of those men—a complete stranger.”

“They weren’t strangers to your father.”

“But they are to me.” Fear ate through her seductive pretense. “I can’t bear it. I can’t.”

“You must bear it,” he said sternly. “You can’t allow Holliswell to take Dunscore. For Cullen’s sake, I can’t allow it. But God help me—” He stood suddenly, and so did she. He was thinking now. Considering. There was hesitation in his brow.

She took a chance and brazenly lay her palms against his chest. If appealing to his male nature would change his mind, she would fire all guns. “Would it be so terrible to have me as your wife?” she asked, in a voice Phil would have been proud of.

He looked down at her as though this was the Garden of Eden and she was offering him a bite of apple. “Cullen would call me out, and rightfully so.”

“My father isn’t here,” she reminded him quietly. “And I’m a woman long since grown.” She smoothed the front of his waistcoat the way a wife might do. “My days of mud biscuits are far behind me.”

“Not so far.”

“Far enough.”

He circled her wrists with hands that were stronger than they looked. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this,” he said brusquely. He wanted to touch her. She could see it in his eyes, and she fought the urge to back away as her pulse sped and a nerve ticked wildly in her throat.

She’d already decided on this. And she would see it through. Their marriage bed would be no different from the day she’d finally been sent to Mejdan’s bed. Lord Deal was kind, and he would be gentle. He was kindly to Anne, and, most important, wouldn’t try to shackle Katherine down.

“Little about your life would need to change,” she told him. “I would ask nothing of you. You would be forced into nothing you didn’t wish to do.”

He laughed a little. “Except one thing. I don’t even know if I could— Good God.” He shook his head. “I really don’t think I could do what you’re asking.”

“Marriages of convenience are hardly uncommon.”

“Is there nobody who would meet your approval?” he demanded, looking her hard in the eyes, giving her a glimpse of the man he’d been thirty years ago. His hands tightened on her wrists. “You must have met dozens of eligible men while you were in London. Am I to believe nobody caught your eye? Are the gentlemen in London so blind that nobody so much as hinted at an offer? Ah, I can see there is someone. Who is he?”

“Nobody acceptable.” But the image of James exploded to life—his face, drunk with passion inside her carriage, while his hands laid claim to her body. Katherine, marry me. “You know as well as I what kind of interest I garnered in London. Lord Deal, I am quite serious. You are my only hope.”

“Tell me about this unacceptable gentleman in London. What was the objection? No doubt you outrank him significantly.”

She was not going to discuss James with Lord Deal. But before she could tell him as much, he softened. “You’ve had your heart broken, haven’t you, my dear?”

“Certainly not.”

Lord Deal’s brows dove. “He’s wronged you, then?”

“No.” This was not the discussion they were supposed to be having. “Lord Deal, please.” Now she’d been reduced to begging. She schooled herself to soften her voice. “Please consider this.”

“Honestly, Katherine, I’m hard-pressed to think of anything that would seem more wrong.”

Marrying one of Lord Deal’s “suggestions” would be more wrong. But it was obvious that continuing to press the issue now might lead to failure, so she just looked at him.

He watched her with tight lips and troubled eyes that sparked with the beginnings of indecision.

After a long moment he let go of her and stepped away. “I can’t give you an answer now.”

Suddenly she could hardly breathe. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“It would be a betrayal of Cullen beyond anything I could have ever imagined.”

“I am convinced he would rather you be the one to save Dunscore than anyone else.”

Lord Deal did not seem to share her conviction. “Give me a few days to at least satisfy myself that I’ve thought of every other possibility, and if you haven’t thought of a better solution by then—” Something outside caught his attention, and he frowned toward the windows. “Are you expecting visitors?”

Visitors. Katherine turned abruptly and spotted two riders coming up the drive—riders she recognized even from this distance. “It’s William Jaxbury.” She clenched her jaw. “And Captain Warre.”

“Croston?” Lord Deal peered harder. “Ach, it is. And from the looks of things, they’ve ridden fast and hard.”

What were they doing here? This could ruin everything.

“Are you all right, Katie? You seem displeased by their arrival. Sir Jaxbury is a dear friend, is he not?”

“My dearest friend. And I am not—”

“Then it is Croston whose presence displeases you?”

“I am not displeased.” She tucked her hand in Lord Deal’s arm and urged him toward the door. “Let us go and greet our visitors,” she said in the most pleasant voice she could manage.

“Mama!” Anne’s voice called delightedly from the staircase in the entrance hall. “Mama, I hear horses! Miss Bunsby says it is William! And Captain Warre! Mama, Captain Warre has come to visit us!”

Her fingers tightened around Lord Deal’s arm before she could stop them.

“Mmm,” he said. “I daresay young Lady Anne has made a friend.”

* * *

IT WAS A full twenty minutes before Katherine had the heart to tear Anne away from her friend and send her upstairs with Miss Bunsby. Something was wrong. Very wrong. When James told them what day they’d left London, there was no doubt they’d hardly stopped at all.

“What’s happened?” she demanded the moment Anne was out of hearing.

“Millicent and India have taken the Possession,” William told her. “Slipped out of the Thames in the dead of night.”

An invisible hand closed over her throat. “That’s impossible.”

“Apparently it’s not,” James said flatly. “We went to your house after hearing the Possession was gone and found no trace of Miss Germain,” James said. “We checked with Cantwell, and India was gone, as well. Snuck away somehow, and in her infinite wisdom, left a note. Wouldn’t be treated like a child, or something to that effect.”

William snorted.

“That is quite an offense,” Lord Deal commented gravely.

Suddenly things made sense—why Millie had been so adamant about not feeling well enough to travel, why she had begged to stay in London instead of accompanying them to Dunscore. With her face so pale and yellowed with bruises, it had been impossible to deny her. Katherine had allowed her the use of the London house indefinitely.

But indefinitely had lasted only as long as it had taken Millicent to put her plan into action. Katherine’s hands began to tremble, and she made fists to keep them still. “You must go after them,” she said to William. “I will commission a ship in Edinburgh and pay for a crew.”

A gleam came into William’s eye. “An easy guess where they’re headed.”

Malta. But what India planned to do with the Possession while Millicent tried to gain admittance to that surgical school was anyone’s guess.

“It’ll be a damned business, bringing up Cantwell’s daughter on charges,” Lord Deal said.

“There won’t be any charges,” Katherine said. Her thoughts churned, struggling to make sense of this development. “I only want the Possession returned.”

“Aye, Captain,” William said.

She did want it returned. Right now. Today. This instant. It belonged to her, with her, where she could see it every day and hold on to its promise. It made her who she was.

“What of the committee? Has there been any word?” she asked.

“I daresay it’s too soon to expect any,” James said. And then he turned to Lord Deal. “Have there been any developments here?”

He was windblown from the ride, looking more like a sea captain than he had for weeks, and it was hard to keep from staring. A lock of his hair curled over his forehead. A shadow of beard roughened his jaw. Those calculating, sea-captain eyes watched her carefully.

She wanted to throw her arms around him the way Anne had done.

Instead, she reached for Lord Deal’s arm. “Indeed, Henry and I have just been discussing the arrangements.”

James’s tight lips curved. “Have you.”

Lord Deal cleared his throat. “Yes. Well. We have indeed been discussing a variety of possibilities—attempting, naturally, to think of some gentlemen who would be appropriate and, of course, to identify those whom Lady Dunscore finds objectionable.” He patted her hand. “And I do believe we have identified at least one of the gentlemen in question.”