Читать книгу Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1 - Louise Allen, Christine Merrill - Страница 41

Nicholas found he could not take his eyes off the woman opposite him. She was enchanting, absolutely enchanting—and she was his wife. He must have been mad to promise her an annulment. If he could just get her to change her mind before they reached his home and she discovered what he had been avoiding for six years, surely she would forgive him for the deception afterwards?

Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face, for Kat stopped laughing and glanced down. ‘Oh, goodness, just look at this gown.’

‘I am.’

‘It is not funny.’ She was tugging up the neckline in a manner that was utterly feminine, which made him smile. ‘Please pass me my fichu. Thank you.’ She tucked and pinned and, finally satisfied, began to search for hairpins on the seat. ‘Goodness knows what those men thought.’

‘Precisely what I wanted them to think, luckily.’ God, the way she put up her arms to deal with her hair, the graceful line of her body … He shifted uncomfortably on the seat and found himself uncharacteristically lost for words.

Kat finished fussing with her hair, pulled on her pelisse and sat there regarding him with an air of expectation, which, as he continued silent, seemed to subside into something like resignation.

What could he say to her? Usually more than able to talk his way into, and out of, any situation, Nick sat and brooded on opening gambits. Kat, my home is rather … Kat, l am a … My father … Kat, you may be surprised …

Hopeless. He would just have to show her and trust that by then she was tied to him and could not escape. Many young women would not want to escape, he knew that. This one, exuding silent discomfort opposite him, undoubtedly would.

Kat appeared to cheer up as they approached the city and she exclaimed in interest as they caught glimpses of the imposing Minster tower rising over tiled roofs. Their carriage, guided by instructions he had given John that morning before they set out, made its way deep into the heart of York.

The familiar yard of the Crown and Anchor glimpsed through the coach windows was larger than any they had stayed at so far, and the ostlers hurried out to greet the new arrival with an alacrity that spoke of a degree of style in the establishment. Some things had not changed, then; he needed to forestall any betraying welcome.

Kat was frowning again as Nick opened the coach door and handed her down. ‘Is it not to your liking?’ he asked as she stood on the cobbles beside him, gazing critically around her.

‘It looks expensive.’ She was fingering her purse through the stuff of her reticule.

‘More so than anywhere else we have stayed, I agree.’ He had almost recovered his voice now, he realised, only a slight rasping edge when he was tired was left. ‘But I had a yearning for a comfortable bed and a glass of good brandy.’ And to be somewhere familiar, tobe amongst friends after all this time.

He saw Kat shoot him a hasty glance to ensure that his neck cloth was back in place covering the betraying weal on his neck. No doubt she was expecting to be turned away from such a decent inn because he appeared to be some kind of felon.

‘We haven’t much money left,’ she hissed, managing to smile graciously as the men lifted down their small amount of luggage. ‘How many more nights will it take?’

‘After this? Two if we are lucky, three if the weather turns or the roads are bad.’ He regarded her expressionlessly. ‘You think I am being profligate with your money. We have enough to get … to get home and then you will have nothing to worry about.’

Kat looked mutinous as Nick took her arm and steered her firmly towards the inn door. ‘See how you fare trying to get lodgings at a smart inn like this,’ she hissed. ‘You are wearing a coachman’s clothes, driving an old-fashioned coach yourself—we will be lucky to be given a garret if they are busy.’

Being turned away was the least of Nick’s worries at that moment; being welcomed with open arms was more of a threat. ‘House!’ He strode forward into the entrance to intercept a tall, heavily built man who hurried forward, wiping his hands on a voluminous white apron.

‘Excuse me, sir, I was just in the tap and didn’t see you come in.’ He broke off and stared at Nick in the shadowy hall. ‘My …’ His voice trailed away.

‘Your inn was recommended to me,’ Nick said, cutting across the rest of the sentence. He kept his back to Kat and gestured with his hand. The abrupt signal was enough; old Summerhays was no fool. He managed with aplomb to suppress his surprise at seeing a man who had vanished six years ago.

‘I require a room for my sister and her maid and one for myself and my man. Just the one night, if you please, landlord.’

Summerhays nodded briskly, concealing entirely natural speculation about exactly where Nicholas Lydgate might have acquired a sister. ‘Yes, sir. And a private parlour, sir?’

‘Of course.’

The innkeeper turned to summon a boy to take their bags. ‘Here, lad, the two rooms at the side with the parlour, and then get Molly to bring some hot water up for the lady.’

‘You had better go up,’ Nick turned to Kat. ‘I will bespeak some dinner for you.’

Kat paused with one foot on the step. ‘For me? Are you not hungry?’

‘John and I will be going out to dine. I will see you in the morning.’

‘Out? While Jenny and I are cooped up for yet another interminable evening? I want to come too!’

‘That would not be suitable,’ Nick said smoothly, taking her arm again and turning her firmly back to the stairs. ‘Not suitable at all. Now run along, Kat, while I speak to the landlord.’ She might be furious now—she would be even more angry if she overheard the conversation that was about to take place.

‘You …’ Katherine subsided, fuming, and marched upstairs with her chin up and her back rigid. This was not the place to make a scene. Not suitable indeed. They were probably planning to visit some low ale houses or a cock fight. Perhaps even acquire some friendly female companionship.

‘Mr Lydgate’s very forceful, is he not?’ Jenny observed as the door closed on the pot boy.

‘That is not the word I would choose,’ Katherine retorted. ‘Arrogant and overbearing would fit better. How he managed to keep his pride in check and his tongue between his teeth during two years as a trooper I cannot imagine.’ Her voice softened. ‘But he was wonderful when we were held up—so resourceful and quick thinking.’

‘What happened in the coach? You know, when you were hugging him and your dress was half off?’

‘Jenny! It was not half off, simply somewhat low. And I was only embracing him in relief, nothing more. Nothing happened at all in the coach. I put myself to rights and he brooded as though the cat had got his tongue.’

‘Probably worrying about what sort of reception he’s going to get when he reaches home,’ Jenny said sympathetically.

‘If we have enough money to get there after tonight’s extravagances. I suppose the only consolation is that they do not have enough money to get seriously drunk on.’ Katherine unpinned her hair and began to brush it out.

Jenny, who was lifting night things from the valise, looked up with a grin. ‘John took his savings out from under the floorboard in the kitchen before we left. They’ve enough to give themselves sore heads in the morning, I’ll be bound.’

Whatever the state of the men’s heads come breakfast time, Katherine’s was throbbing with the effects of a restless night and worry. It would be simply too feeble to give way to all the anxieties racking her; she had too much self-control to take out her feelings on her maid and her husband appeared set on staying well out of her way.

When she emerged, blinking irritably, into the morning sunlight after breakfast, it was to find the luggage strapped on and John just giving Jenny a hand to climb up on to the box.

‘Jenny! What are you doing?’

‘I thought I’d have some fresh air again, Miss Katherine, if that’s all right with you,’ the maid responded with a wink and a jerk of her head towards the door where Nick could just be glimpsed paying their shot. ‘I enjoyed it yesterday.’

‘Oh! Oh, well, all right Jenny. You are looking a little pale.’

Footsteps behind her approached and halted at the sight of John and Jenny already on the box. Katherine bit her lip to suppress her laughter and waited.

‘I will drive, John.’

‘Begging your pardon sir, but I get sick in the stomach if I travel in a closed coach. Always have to sit on top when I take the stage, sir. Miss Katherine wouldn’t like it, sir. And Jenny’s got a headache again, like yesterday.’

Katherine could feel the icy stare behind her and watched appreciatively as John looked bland and Jenny gazed round the yard, apparently entranced by what the stable boys were up to.

‘Very well.’ Katherine stepped up to the coach and waited modestly to be handed into it. She kept her eyes down to hide the amusement in them and waited for what Nick would say next.

Nothing, appeared to be the answer. She flickered an upward glance through her lashes and saw him regarding the passing street scene from under lowered brows. Her amusement died as irritation returned.

‘Why are you avoiding me?’ she asked abruptly.

That seized his attention at least. The dark eyes fixed hers and she saw a flash of anger in their depths. ‘I am not avoiding you, Kat. I could not leave John to drive day after day.’

‘And you could not be bothered to speak to me in the evenings?’

‘Bothered?’ Nick’s face cleared and he leaned over and took both her hands in his. Her pulse fluttered and raced. ‘It was not that, Kat; I am sorry if it seemed so. I have been … preoccupied and not good company. And you looked tired.’

As he said it, Nick realised that telling any woman that she looked tired was not a remark likely to pacify her. The hands he had trapped in his stiffened, her chin rose and the pansy-brown eyes hardened.

‘I can assure you that I have felt nothing more than the usual slight fatigue to be expected after sitting for hours on end in an uncomfortable coach. Certainly nothing that would have prevented me holding a conversation.’

Rebuked, he fell back on part of the truth. ‘This is an unconventional journey, I thought it wiser to keep my distance during it. After all, you are a well-bred young lady; I imagine that a long journey in the enforced company of a man would not be to your liking. Especially as we have been staying in inns that are not of the first respectability.’ Except last night. That had been a risk. Kat was going to find out the truth soon; he acknowledged that he was not looking forward to her realisation of just what she had married into.

‘You are my husband,’ she pointed out, her eyes downcast. Nick regarded her narrowly, unable to read her mood.

‘For a few weeks only,’ he reminded her and was unprepared for the flash of anger in her eyes as she looked up.

‘So what you really mean, and are tactfully circling round, is that it is better if we keep our distance in case anything occurs that prevents our marriage being annulled?’ she said sweetly. ‘I really have no fears that you are likely to be making assaults on my virtue and thus jeopardise our release from a situation which I am persuaded is as distasteful to you as it is to me.

‘Especially,’ she added with a flash of fire, ‘when you have been entertaining yourself last night in much more congenial company than that of a well-bred young lady.’

Nick sorted through his emotions, discovered that amusement was predominant and grinned, apparently infuriating his already angry wife further. ‘I can assure you, my dear Kat, that John and I indulged in nothing more carnal than a large beefsteak pie, rather too much Yorkshire ale and a disappointing cock fight. I have to admit that John did wink at a comely redhead, but that was as far as our encounters with the fair sex went.’ With a pang he noticed a sudden brightness in her eyes and added fatally, ‘There is nothing for you to be jealous of.’

‘Jealous?’ The icy hauteur in her voice would have frozen water. Nick sat back, abruptly releasing her hands and found that this new Kat was every bit as intriguing as all the others he had encountered. An aloof cat who any minute was likely to spit and claw, he decided appreciatively.

‘I have no reason to be jealous of what you do, sir—we are, after all, nothing to each other.’ That hurt, an unexpected swipe of her claws. ‘We have nothing emotional between us,’ she corrected meticulously. ‘Naturally I am deeply grateful to you for your help with my debt, but that does not mean I wish to arrive on your father’s doorstep after having had to spend two or three nights sleeping in this coach because you have spent our resources on expensive inns and gambling on cock fights.’

Now he was beginning to sense what was upsetting her. ‘We have enough money,’ he assured her. ‘The inns north of here are far from luxurious and I do not gamble on cock fights. I bet little these days,’ he added, meeting her disbelieving stare. ‘Real life produces more interesting games of chance.’ And he recalled only too clearly the time when his entire livelihood depended on his skill with cards to want to repeat the experience for amusement.

Kat produced the enchanting sound he thought of as her infuriated kitten noise. ‘Will you not tell me what is really upsetting you?’ he pressed.

‘Very well.’ The sparkle in her eyes was more anger than unshed tears now. ‘I am about to arrive—penniless—on your family’s doorstep, knowing not the first thing about them other than that your return is likely to be difficult for all concerned. Not only have you married without your father’s blessing to someone completely unknown to him, but I bring with me a vast debt and the prospect of disgrace and scandal. However delighted he will be to see me gone from your family, he can hardly welcome the prospect of an annulment.’

Her eyes on his face were stormy with what he realised was not only anger, but fear. Her fury was not with him, but with herself for not being able to overcome it.

‘Kat.’ He tried to take her hands again but she batted his away.

‘And I have absolutely no idea how I am going to support myself and my servants, let alone pay off this debt.’ Nick opened his mouth to speak, but she was before him. ‘And I do not mean I want you to help me. This is my problem and my debt. All I meant was that I would have welcomed discussing it so that I have some plan to lay before your father. I would not have him thinking I will be a burden upon him for the world.’

‘You do not think that saving his son’s life entitles you to some support and assistance?’ Nick enquired mildly.

‘I did not help you because I wanted a pension! And to accept being a burden simply because of an act any Christian person would see as their duty …’

That was another swipe from her claws, and one she did not even realise she had delivered. ‘So you rescued me simply out of a sense of duty?’

‘Of course.’ Her head was averted now, but her chin was still up. ‘I believed in your innocence and you had treated me much better than my foolish actions deserved.’ Suddenly she moved to face him, reaching out her hands to take his. ‘I am sorry to subject you to my megrims. But I feel better for that outburst, I have to confess. Nick, please tell me something of what to expect.’

Her ungloved hands in his were small, soft, vulnerable, yet, as his fingers closed over them, he felt their strength and determination too. He sought for some words to satisfy her that would yet leave all the difficult matters untouched. Soon he was going to have to sacrifice his pride and confront the past, but not yet, and by then he hoped she would have given up this nonsense of an annulment.

‘My father married twice,’ he began slowly. ‘His first marriage was childless and his wife died when he was forty. He married my mother a few years later and he was forty-five when I was born.’ He watched her attempting to calculate his own age and did the addition for her. ‘He is now seventy-three. Not possibly the most flexible of ages for dealing with prodigal sons. I have a younger brother, Robert, who was obedient where I was rebellious, dutiful where I was arrogant, sober where I was a rake.’

‘Were you?’ She was leaning forward, engrossed in his story, her hands still trustingly in his, her eyes alight with interest. ‘I’ve always wanted to meet a rake.’

‘Well, you are married to one,’ he responded somewhat grimly.

‘And your father? Has he lands? Or an occupation? The church perhaps?’

Katherine was entranced by the sudden flash of humour that transformed Nick’s face, the first real smile she had seen for days from him. She smiled back, not in on the joke, but happy that he was amused. ‘What is so funny?’

‘The thought of my father in the church. Now Robert would make an excellent cleric, that I can believe. No, my father … farms.’

‘A large farm?’ He was telling her so much she did not want him to stop now.

Again, that flash of amusement. ‘Yes. Large. But up in Northumberland that is the way of things. The land is less fertile and the climate hard, so you need more land.’

She thought she was beginning to understand. ‘And you did not want to be a farmer?’ She could believe that; all that energy and pride and courage would not sit well with the need to worry about the spring sowing or the routine of stock raising. ‘He will be glad to have you back,’ she said gently. ‘He is an old man now, he will need your help. What would have happened if you had never gone back?’

‘If I had dangled for a few more minutes from that rope, you mean? Or simply continued on my undutiful way?’ There was the darkness back in his eyes and unconsciously she tightened her grip on his hands. ‘After seven years of no news I could be presumed dead in law—Robert would become the heir. Doubtless he would make a much better fist of it than I.’

‘Do you not like your brother?’ His voice had been bitter.

‘Like him? I love him, no one could fail to. I was not being sarcastic—he truly should have been born first. He was a good boy, he will be a good man now.’

Katherine’s heart twisted. So much bitterness, so much pride.’ You are a good man,’ she said impulsively, lifting her hands so they brought his up against her cheek. She met his eyes, dark and intent on hers, saw the harsh twist of his mouth soften and the sensual lips curve into a smile.

‘You are a sweetheart Kat,’ he said softly, opening his fingers so they spread on her cheek, cradling it gently. ‘So sweet.’

Something inside her slipped, moved. She felt dizzy for a moment—surely her heart should not be beating like this? Then she turned her face instinctively into his caressing hand and met his eyes. It hit her with the force of a blow. She was in love with Nicholas Lydgate. In love with her husband who was no husband and who must never be.