Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1
Then the house appeared, reflected in its lake like a mirage, and all the questions disappeared. ‘Oh, how beautiful!’ Katherine was not aware of speaking aloud.
‘I have always thought that from this view across the lake it seems more like a dream than a real building.’ Nick cleared his throat and spoke dispassionately, only his right hand balled into a fist on the ledge of the window betrayed emotions he would not display. Katherine glanced at his face—his eyes were dry again.
Cold greyish-white stone, turrets and towers, a shifting pattern of roofs as the carriage moved—it was like a fairytale castle at one moment, a palace the next.
‘It is vast.’ Katherine heard the shake in her own voice and stiffened her spine. It seemed that this was their destination and that Nick must be some connection with the family who inhabited this awe-inspiring dwelling. Not a younger son, that she knew. She turned to him, suddenly agitated out of her usual calm self-control at the answer that was forcing itself into her mind. ‘Nick, why are we here?’
‘Because this is where I live,’ he said simply as the carriage drew to a halt at the foot of a great double sweep of steps. They rose gracefully to a balustraded platform in front of the doors.
Nick got up and threw open the door before John could climb down. Katherine found herself handed out, a gaping Jenny at her heels. ‘Follow the drive round to the side, you will see the stable block,’ he called up to John, then took Katherine’s arm and began to climb the right-hand branch of the steps.
Stunned into silence, she let herself be guided. The hand under her elbow was steady and, glancing up, she saw his face was calm, severe and quite unreadable. With a sudden flash of insight she realised this was the face he would have shown to the mob at the hanging. They arrived on the wide flagged platform and, as if at a signal, the doors swung open.
Katherine did not know quite what to expect. This seemed to be a dream so fantastical that if the great Chan of China or the Prince Regent had emerged she would not have been surprised. The reality was more prosaic. Firstly a liveried footman and then, stepping primly in his wake, a thin, elderly man in dark clothing, unmistakably the butler.
‘Good day sir, madam, I regret that his Grace is not—’ He broke off and stared. ‘Mr Nicholas! My lord!’ His face turned white. For a moment Katherine thought he would faint, then Nick had him by the shoulders and the colour ebbed back as he slowly shook his head in wonderment. ‘Heavens be praised, my lord, we thought you must be dead for sure. Six years …’ His voice shook.
‘Heron, if you break down, it will quite unman me,’ Nick said roughly. Katherine could hear the affection in his voice and recognise the shake of emotion he was trying so hard to suppress. ‘I was relying upon you to maintain a little decorum and restraint at the return of the prodigal son. Now, do not let me down.’
‘No, my lord, of course not. It is merely a little breezy out here, it must be making my eyes water.’ He rubbed hastily at his eyes and was once more the impassive butler. ‘We must not detain the lady out here, my lord, if I may say so.’
They passed into the hall, the footman closed the doors behind them and Katherine found herself gaping like a tourist at an exhibition. The ceiling was high above them, the room a double cube of white marble, watered blue silk walls and massive paintings. A tall man was coming down the stairs. He stopped at the sight of the new arrivals, then, with a cry of ‘Nick!', flung himself down the remaining flight.
There was no mistaking who he was. Younger than his brother by perhaps five years, brown haired where Nick verged on the raven, lanky where his equally tall brother was hard with muscle, he was still unmistakably the brother Nick had spoken of with such affection.
‘Robert!’ Katherine drew back as the two men embraced, a torrent of questions and half-completed sentences tumbling from Robert’s lips.
‘I beg your pardon, madam.’ It was the butler. Hernshaw? No, Heron, that was it. ‘I am afraid their lordships will be somewhat preoccupied for a few minutes. Have you luggage, madam? This will be your abigail, I assume?’
She pulled herself together. Few things in any house of rank were as important as to make a good impression on the upper servants and she was not going to let Nick down, however much she trembled inwardly at the shocking surprise he had sprung upon her.
‘Thank you, Heron. Yes, this is Pilgrim. My man has taken the carriage with the luggage round to the stables.’ She drew a deep breath, then said with a pleasant smile, ‘I collect that my husband’s message did not arrive to warn of our coming?’
The poor man had received more shocks that morning than were fair to inflict upon an elderly family retainer and she admired the manner in which he kept all traces of his reaction from his face. Only his eyes widened perceptibly. ‘My lady. Welcome to Seaton Mandeville. I deeply regret that we could not assemble the full staff as is only fitting to receive the new marchioness.’
There, he had said it, the thing that she had been refusing to think ever since the dreadful certainty of who Nick was had come to her on the steps. She was, it seemed, a Marchioness. A temporary Marchioness. Somehow she must keep this bizarre conversation going until Nick was able to rescue her. ‘Under the circumstances that is quite understandable. I shall look forward to meeting them all later.’ Could the butler see the terror in her eyes? How many staff could this palace possibly require? Hundreds, she supposed. Around them other staff were gathering, ostensibly to assist the new arrivals, but quite obviously agog at the unexpected return of the heir of the house.
Mercifully Nick was turning, his arm still across his brother’s shoulders. ‘Robert, I have the honour to present you to my wife. Katherine, my brother, Lord Robert Lydgate.’
She kept her eyes from Nick’s face, knowing it was unlikely she could hide the mingled reproach and fear in them. Instead she dropped a neat curtsy to his brother. ‘My lord. I have heard so much about you from Nicholas.’
‘Robert, please, and I hope I may call you Katherine.’ He strode forward, suddenly so like Nicholas that her breath caught in her throat. ‘And I trust I may kiss my new sister.’
The kiss was a firm but chaste pressure on either cheek and Katherine found herself smiling up at him gratefully as he held her at arm’s length to study her. In the same way as Nick had made her feel safe in Newgate, this young man, so like him, was making her feel less unsure in this equally frightening new environment. ‘Nick always had the best of good taste. Welcome to our home. I hope—’
The voice that cut across Robert’s was calm, beautifully modulated and reduced the small crowd to immediate silence.
‘Heron, it appears that I have received visitors of whom I was unaware. How could that be, I wonder?’
‘Your Grace, I was just coming to announce them.’ Katherine saw the stain of colour on the butler’s cheeks and turned to regard the newcomer from under level brows. It did not take Heron’s words to tell her who was standing in the open doorway regarding the scene, a book in one hand. She had imagined her new father-in-law as Nick in forty years’ time and had not been mistaken. But this was not the patriarchal farmer she had imagined.
Nick himself had gone quite still, except to reach out a hand and take hers. She squeezed his fingers briefly and drew her hand away; she needed all her wits for this encounter and the touch of Nick’s warmth was more a distraction than anything.
Robert appeared immune to the prevailing atmosphere. ‘It is not visitors, Father, it is Nick, safe and sound at last.’
Around them servants were melting away, leaving only Heron and Jenny standing behind Katherine.
‘We will retire to the library. Heron, some refreshments, if you please.’ The Duke turned on his heel and re-entered the room behind him, leaving Katherine with an impression of immaculate and fashionable tailoring and an air of precise elegance.
‘Kat,’ Nick began, ‘I will explain later …’
Katherine regarded him levelly. ‘You certainly will,’ she said with feeling, then put up her chin and concentrated on making her entrance through the door, which Robert was holding for her, with as much poise as she could conjure up.
She found herself standing directly in front of the Duke, who regarded her with no sign of emotion. ‘Good day, madam. You are welcome. No doubt one of my sons will have the grace to introduce you presently.’
‘Sir, I have the honour to present to you my wife, Katherine.’ Nick addressed his father for the first time and, to her lasting admiration, managed to sound both unapologetic and perfectly polite.
‘Your Grace.’ Katherine dropped her very best curtsy and rose to meet the older man’s eyes calmly. It appeared that she had met with some approval, for he bowed slightly in acknowledgment and stepped forward to take her hand. To her amazement he kissed her cheek, a chilly touch to be sure, but still more than she had expected.
‘Then I must welcome you both to the family and to this house,’ he said gravely. ‘Am I to thank you for my son’s return?’
‘Thank you, your Grace. I understand that Nicholas was already planning to return before we met.’ She should say something about the status of their marriage, she knew it, but a cowardly reluctance dragged at her tongue.
‘Please, sit, Katherine. Have you had a long journey?’
‘Your Grace, you are most kind.’ No, she could not sit, could not be accepted by this terrifying old man under false pretences. ‘But I must tell you that you should not be welcoming me to your family.’ Beside her she heard a sharp hiss of indrawn breath from Nick and hurried on. ‘I married your son because he was gallant enough to do so to save me from very difficult circumstances. We intend to seek an annulment at the earliest opportunity.’
‘Indeed?’ The dark brows, so in contrast to the steel grey hair, rose in exquisitely controlled surprise. ‘Am I to understand that my son is unable to perform his marital duties?’
Chapter Thirteen
Katherine felt the hot blood rise in her cheeks and bit the inside of her lip. She was not going to be cowed by this terrifying old man.
‘Sir!’ At least she now knew what it took to break Nick’s control.
Her blushes under control, Katherine shot him a quelling look and sank into the chair the Duke had offered her, glad of the moment’s distraction to recover her poise. ‘I have no information on that subject, your Grace,’ she replied icily. ‘From the beginning this has been a marriage of convenience and one intended to be of short duration. Very short. You will, doubtless, wish to know with whom Nicholas has made this temporary contract; my name is Katherine Cunningham. My late father was Philip Cunningham of Ware, in Hertfordshire.’
‘I see. My son appears to have exercised a surprising degree of good judgement in his choice, however temporary. You are naturally most welcome to remain here for as long as it is convenient to you to do so, Katherine.’ He appeared as unsurprised by the news of the annulment as he was by that of the marriage. Katherine began to realise where Nick had learned his formidable self-mastery.
The Duke swung round to study his elder son. The sight did not appear to afford him any great pleasure. ‘So, Nicholas, you have decided to return after—what is it?—six years?’
‘You dismissed me. Sir.’ Released from the duke’s steely regard, Katherine relaxed enough to watch Nick. Under the circumstances he was maintaining an admirable composure. But it was news to her that he had been dismissed by his father; the impression she had received was that he had walked away after a disagreement. Her anger with him at having concealed his true identity began to wane and in its place returned the unwelcome, uncomfortable tug of love at her heartstrings. It must be so hard, so very hard, to come back to such a cold reception.
‘So I did. How amazing that for once you chose the path of obedience.’ The Duke sat in the chair opposite Katherine and studied his sons. ‘Robert, stop hovering and sit.’
Robert did as he was bid and, to Katherine’s surprise, Nick followed suit so that the four of them formed a circle. It was far from a cosy conversational group.
‘Now, let me see, why did I tell you to remove yourself?’ the Duke mused. ‘Ah, yes, the final straw, that highly unsuitable woman.’
Wide-eyed, Katherine looked at Nick. He stared back haughtily at his father and she was suddenly put in mind of two stags she had once seen in Richmond Park. The old stag, his head heavy with antlers, his muzzle white; the younger, with a less impressive spread, but all the stature and arrogance of powerful youth and the pair of them at a stand, eyeing each other for advantage.
‘You made little allowance for young love,’ Nick said eventually, his tone light, and the older man laughed shortly, a harsh note of grudging acknowledgment.
‘I did not, you have the right of it. And it seems I made little allowance for youthful pride. I expected to see you back within a month or two.’
Nick shifted in the chair, crossing his legs and making himself more comfortable and his father’s hard gaze sharpened. ‘Come here.’
‘Sir?’
‘Come here.’ Katherine froze, for she too had seen what that shift of position had revealed: the edge of the fading mark of the noose on Nick’s neck. She put up her hand to her own neck in an attempt to warn him, but he was watching his father, a frown between his eyes.
Slowly Nick uncrossed his legs and stood, then took the two steps which brought him before his father’s chair. The Duke rose and reached out long fingers to push aside the neckcloth around his son’s neck. ‘And what is this?’
‘You told me I was born to be hanged.’ Nick was rigid with some emotion that Katherine could only assume was anger at this chilly interrogation. ‘As always, sir, you were correct.’
‘And how did you escape?’ The Duke flicked back the ends of the neckcloth with fastidious fingers and resumed his chair.
Nick took his time to walk back to his own seat. ‘I was in Newgate, condemned to hang as a highwayman. Katherine saved me, at no little risk to her own life.’
‘Then we are in your debt, my dear.’ The old man twisted in his seat to look at Katherine. ‘Your timing appears to be exquisite—late enough to teach a sharp lesson, not so late that it is fatal. I am agog to hear this entire tale, it appears positively Gothick. However, I believe Heron will soon be announcing luncheon—if this event has not thrown the entire household into total disarray—and I am sure you will wish to retire to your room beforehand.’ He stretched out a hand to the bell pull and Katherine recognised the same long fingers that made Nick’s hands so graceful.
He regarded his elder son from under hooded lids. ‘No doubt Heron will be able to decide which is the most appropriate suite of rooms for Lady Seaton under the circumstances. If you will excuse me, my dear.’
The silence that was left when the door closed behind him appeared to fill the room. Katherine yearned to go and put her arms around Nick, but his very control told her that would be unwelcome. At least she now knew what her own title was. Lady Seaton, the Marchioness. This is a nightmare.
At last, when she felt on the point of screaming at the men to provoke some reaction, Robert said, ‘Hanged?’ His brother nodded. ‘As a highwayman?’
To Katherine’s relief a wry smile twisted Nick’s lips. ‘As the notorious Black Jack Standon, no less.’
An inelegant whistle escaped Robert. ‘You weren’t, were you?’
‘Certainly not. I was most elegantly entrapped by Black Jack and his doxy and haled off to Newgate where I had no means of proving who I am.’
‘But you look nothing like a highwayman,’ Robert protested. ‘I mean, I know your clothes are hardly what one might expect—’
‘They belong to my groom,’ Katherine interjected. ‘And Nick does look very like Mr Standon. Younger, but very like.’
‘How do you know?’ Robert swivelled in his chair to regard Katherine with fascination.
‘Because my wife took it upon herself to go to find him and to persuade him to show himself to the magistrate in the case.’
Robert’s eyes opened wide, making him look even younger than his years. ‘But why was Katherine not able to prove who you were without having to do that? As your wife—’
‘I married Nicholas—’
‘Kat!’
Katherine shot her husband a defiant look. He wanted to shield her and protect her and part of her loved him for it, but she was not going to pretend to her terrifying new family. ‘I married him in Newgate because I was—I am—heavily in debt.’
Robert whistled again. ‘Well, that’s not a problem for you any more. Nick’s as rich as Croesus; old Wilkinson, our man of affairs, has been squirreling his income away in all sorts of interesting ways ever since he left. Nick, for goodness’ sake, are you not going to tell me where you’ve been?’
Katherine cleared her throat. ‘Before this goes any further, let me make my position quite plain. I will have this marriage annulled and I will look after my own debts.’
Robert’s gaze flickered from one determined face to another and this time his whistle was silent. You’ve met your match with this one, Nick. It was a pity, he was rapidly becoming very attached to his new sister-in-law.
‘We will discuss this later,’ Nick began as the door opened and Heron entered.
‘My lord, I have taken the liberty of opening your old rooms and her ladyship’s woman is unpacking her ladyship’s things in the Lake Suite. I have ordered hot water sent up in case her ladyship would care to retire before luncheon, which will be in half an hour.’
Katherine got to her feet with a smile. ‘Thank you, Heron, if you would show me the way.’ Nick made as if to join her, but she smiled coolly at him. ‘I am sure you and Lord Robert have much to discuss, my lord.’
The door closed behind them, leaving Nick conscious of a strong desire to kick the furniture and very aware of his brother’s fascinated gaze.
‘What?’ he demanded.
‘You want to annul the marriage?’ Robert sounded incredulous. ‘She is enchanting.’
‘No, I do not want to annul it, but Kat does and she’s as proud as they come and the most stubborn woman I have ever met. She married me in sheer desperation because of the mess her scapegrace brother had got her into and in the expectation that the debt would die with me. I had the devil’s own job getting her to agree to come here in my company.’ He dug his hands into the pockets of his coat and began to pace up and down the room. The emotions that were flooding through him were too complex to untangle, but most of them hurt damnably.
Robert’s uncritical affection he had always been assured of, but he should not have been surprised at his father’s chilly reception. Nor should he have been surprised at the feelings that had gripped him as the landscape had become more and more familiar. Affection, memory, pride and the dragging knowledge that one day all this would be his responsibility. All the acres, all the possessions, all the people inescapably his until the day he died. And then the shock of seeing his home again. The rush of water to his eyes had startled him; perhaps he loved the place more than he had ever realised.
And now he had one more responsibility to worry about—Kat. He remembered the way her eyes had widened and darkened with the dawning knowledge of what she was about to discover of the man she had married. Unconsciously he smiled at the picture of her as she stood in the Great Hall, chin up, back straight, making appropriate conversation with Heron, determined to let neither of them down.
‘I did not tell her who I am—she had no idea until Heron called me by my title,’ he confessed, unpleasantly aware that he was going to be expected to explain himself once Katherine had him alone.
‘No wonder she looks so coolly at you! Why do you want to stay married if she does not?’ Robert asked.
‘Because I owe her my life. I can never pay that debt.’ And because making love to her is rapidly becoming an obsession.
‘And you will persist whether she wants it or not?’
‘Whether she wants it or not,’ he agreed harshly.
A cough announced Heron’s reappearance. ‘My lord, I have asked Lord Robert’s man to lay out a suit of clothes for you from his lordship’s wardrobe. What you are wearing may, of course, be most suitable for travelling, but I fear his Grace will not look kindly upon a frieze coat at the luncheon table.’ He looked pointedly at the clock and both brothers made for the door with alacrity.
‘I remember all too well our father’s views on unpunctuality,’ Nick observed as they parted on the upper landing. ‘I have no wish to render today any more hideous by being three minutes late.’
Robert grinned and slapped him affectionately on the shoulder. ‘Welcome home.’
Katherine stood and looked helplessly out across the parkland to the lake.
With her hands full of folded garments, Jenny was chattering happily as she moved between portmanteau and highboy drawers. ‘A Marchioness! Who’d have thought it? And I’ve just realised—that puts me top of all the female servants excepting the housekeeper. Oh, Miss Katherine, just when things looked so black, this is a miracle.’
‘Well, do not get too used to it, Jenny.’ Katherine tossed a fine linen hand towel on to the washstand and gave her appearance a distracted glance in the mirror. ‘We have no choice but to stay here until the annulment, but after that I must be earning my own way.’
‘But, Miss Katherine, the master’s a lord, the heir to a dukedom. You don’t need to worry about the debt—he must make more money than that in a week. And you lo—’ she caught Katherine’s eye, bit her lip and continued carefully ‘—you like him.’
‘You are talking nonsense.’ Katherine twitched at her hem. In a minute she was going to have to go downstairs, face the three men again. ‘Lord Seaton is heir to a dukedom. For that reason alone he must marry well.’
Jenny bristled in her defence. ‘You are well bred, a lady.’
‘Oh, Jenny, a duke is going to be looking for an heiress for his oldest son. He will expect a young lady of lineage and land, someone whose family has connections at Court and in society. Not, of course, that I would not be seeking the annulment in any case, however good my birth,’ she added hastily. Could the heir to a dukedom marry for love? Stop it, she scolded herself, He is not in love with you, that is an academic question.
Somewhere far below her a gong sounded, reverberated. Luncheon was obviously served. Now all I have to do is find the correct dining room in this labyrinth, sit through a meal with a terrifying duke and a man I love and from whom I must hide every tender feeling …
‘I must go. Jenny, have they looked after you? Do you know where to go and have you a chamber to sleep in? And what about John?’ she added distractedly as Jenny pushed her firmly out of the room.
‘I have a very nice room to myself, as befits my new station, and so has John, I believe. And I know the way to the servants’ hall. Now go, Miss Katherine, or you’ll keep the Duke waiting.’
She made her way downstairs slowly, taking the time to compose herself and wishing that for the last few years she had not been so out of society. Not that she would ever have been in a position to make conversation with dukes.
Heron was waiting in the hall and steered her towards, ‘The panelled dining room, my lady. It is the smallest of the dining rooms.’
‘Thank you, Heron.’ She was pleased with the calm way she smiled at him as he opened the door. It was, indeed, a small chamber; Katherine had been envisaging glossy yards of mahogany and having to attempt conversation around gleaming épergnes.