Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1

Chapter Twenty-One

‘What the devil are you doing, jauntering about the countryside by yourself without a word to anyone?’ He appeared to become aware of the other occupants of the room, but his frown did not abate. ‘Cousin Fanny, I beg your pardon. Well, Kat?’

A swift glance in the Duke’s direction warned her that he was about to take exception both to his son’s entrance and his speech. She said brightly, ‘Oh, did Paulson not tell you I was riding over here?’

The Duke relaxed and sat back in his chair; Katherine had the distinct feeling that he was amused.

‘You could have broken your neck!’ Nick was not about to be appeased.

‘I had a groom with me,’ Katherine riposted with sweet reasonableness.

‘And what good would he be if you fell off?’

‘He would have helped me up, I trust. And I am pleased I came over today, for I have just met Mr Greene.’

The shy secretary appeared to be attempting to wriggle backwards out of his seat. Katherine favoured him with a warm smile that made her husband’s eyes narrow. He said abruptly, ‘May I join you, sir?’

‘Please do,’ his brother begged, before their father could speak. ‘You are giving me acid indigestion fuming just behind my shoulder. Here, have some sirloin and stop lecturing Katherine, we do not want you putting her off coming to see us.’

‘Have your tailors gone?’ Katherine asked with what she hoped might be seen as a proper wifely concern.

‘Yes, we were slightly delayed as one of them thought he had swallowed a pin. I cannot imagine why.’ He was teasing her; obviously he had forgiven her—whether she was quite ready to be easy with him was another matter.

‘Extraordinary,’ Katherine agreed solemnly, biting her lip so as not to smile at the teasing twinkle in his eyes: it was quite impossible to resist Nick when he looked like that. ‘Perhaps he had a shock?’

‘Katherine,’ the Duke remarked to his elder son, ‘has been dutiful enough to come over especially to offer her assistance with the preparations for the ball: a courtesy that neither of my sons has seen fit to extend.’

Robert did not rise to the bait, merely dropping one lid in the ghost of a wink to his sister-in-law. Nick too had his own way of dealing with provocation. ‘Sir, unless things have changed greatly since I have been away, any attempt to interfere with your plans to present Seaton Mandeville en fête would be spurned.’ He passed the secretary the mustard. ‘Naturally, had I known you wished me to, I would have hastened over and ordered flower arrangements, or decided on the order of dances …’

Surely the Duke would respond in kind, make some light remark? Instead his eyebrows rose haughtily and he said, ‘As it happens, your assistance is not required.’

Katherine felt the set-down as acutely as if it had been directed at her, and she felt her cheeks colour. She glanced under her lashes at Nick, but he seemed unmoved, only the ironic twist of his mouth telling her that he too had felt the touch of ice. But of course, he must be used to it, expect it. This was the way relations between father and son had always been.

Biting her lip, she continued making conversation with Mr Greene and listening with every appearance of fascination to Lady Fanny recounting how amazing it was that she had thought to put in her ball gown. ‘Quite a miracle, so providential because of course I had no reason to suppose … and I only put it out by accident. Such a scatterbrained thing to do, was it not?’

It was difficult to answer that without discourtesy. Katherine said warmly, ‘But providential, as you said.’ Her mind was somewhere else entirely. Could she do anything, say anything, to help reconcile Nick and his father in the days she had left at Seaton Mandeville? And what influence could an embarrassment of a daughter-in-law, one who was soon to be set aside, have in any case? The Duke had been kind to her beyond her deserts, but he would not welcome presumption, of that she was convinced.

The days before the ball passed for Katherine with a sense of unreality. Nick appeared to have recovered from whatever alarm her riding without him had produced and taught her to trot. Katherine was very proud of herself, once she had stopped falling off, and her husband had not laughed at her once.

She had also forgiven him for the ball gown, sensibly realising that it was the most beautiful garment she would ever wear and to spurn it would be ungracious and, at this late stage, impractical.

Nothing was said about that moment when they had stood in his room, her anger transmuting into sensual awareness, and she began to wonder if, after all, he had felt it too. And anyway, she scolded herself, what if he had? Feelings of physical desire were far removed from love, and love was the only possible reason she could think of for a marquis to stay married to a nobody who had wed him out of her own extremity.

On the afternoon of the ball Nick’s new valet Cuthbertson and Jenny transported their burdens of carefully wrapped evening attire, accessories, brushes and colognes and installed themselves in Nick’s suite and the adjoining rooms at the house. Nick had announced that it would be much simpler if they dressed for the ball there and spent what would remain of the night as well.

‘That should make it easier for Lady Fanny to appear to be chaperoning me,’ Katherine remarked. ‘It will appear to those who are staying over that I am simply another guest.’

‘Yes, that too,’ Nick said vaguely, surprising Katherine, who had imagined that would be the main reason behind his decision.

She shut herself away with Jenny after luncheon, turning the key firmly in the lock in both the outside door and the door that led from her dressing room into Nick’s; she wanted no interruptions, and certainly she did not want Nick to witness any stage in the transformation she was hoping to achieve.

‘I shall have a rest for two hours, if I can sleep,’ she decided, feeling as though she would never be able to close her eyes. ‘Then I will have my bath and wash my hair—that should give it long enough to dry, do you think?’

Jenny calculated. ‘What time is dinner?’

‘Seven tonight. Lady Fanny thought I had better go down at about half past six with her. I do not want to give the impression I am one of the family; simply a guest.’

‘That should give us plenty of time,’ Jenny decided. ‘I’ll take the gown to press now and make sure we get a bath and hot water brought up in two hours—there is sure to be quite a demand! ‘

She helped Katherine out of her gown and stays and under the coverlet, drew the curtains closed and bore off the precious gown in a rustle of tissue.

Left alone, Katherine shut her eyes and tried to compose herself to rest, but sleep proved elusive. She was not used to dozing in the middle of the day and the morning had hardly proved so tiring that she needed a rest. Her mind was buzzing with excitement, apprehension and anticipation.

Would Nick think her beautiful in her new gown? Would he dance with her? As the elder son of the house, his duty would be to dance with the most senior ladies and with the most eligible young ones and not to spend his time with unknown and obscure girls under the wing of his cousin. Anything else, she resolutely told herself, would draw the sort of attention to her that she most hoped to avoid.

Would anyone ask her to dance? Surely someone would, she thought doubtfully, speculating about the sort of guests who would attend a ducal ball. She had seen the pile of acceptances that had flooded in despite the short notice; surely amongst them would be some young gentlemen who would not be so high in the instep as to ignore humble Miss Cunningham?

Her eyelids began to droop and she fell into a state that was half-doze, half-nightmare. Nick, looking distinguished, handsome, every inch the marquis, was dancing with a succession of well-dowered, haughty, exquisite young ladies, while their titled parents looked on with delight. Meanwhile, Miss Cunningham sat with the other wallflowers, grateful for an occasional country dance with a shy youth or possibly his Grace’s archivist.

She woke with a headache, feeling utterly cast down. Miserably she kicked back the covers and rubbed her forehead. Jenny would be back in a minute, it would never do to be found moping like this.

What was the matter with her? She tried to rally her spirits. You are perfectly respectable, presentable and socially adept, she scolded herself. You can run a household, cope with debts, confront a highwayman. Have a little courage! But deep down she felt out of her depth, uncertain …

‘Whatever’s the matter, Miss Katherine?’ Jenny was back in the room without her noticing. ‘Why such a Sad Susan! Anyone would think you were going to the dentist, not to a great ball!’

‘I am terrified,’ Katherine confessed, startled into frankness. ‘I will not know anyone except the family and a very few of their professional advisers—and I cannot reveal how well I know them. I have never been to any occasion so lavish or with such grand guests.’

‘And your lord must pretend he hardly knows you,’ Jenny said, shrewdly getting to the heart of the matter. ‘Do not worry so, he will not let you sink, nor will Lord Robert, nor his Grace, come to that.’

‘What if I let them down?’ Katherine said anxiously.

‘This is beyond anything foolish,’ Jenny scolded. ‘You are equal to anything—look how you saved the master.’

‘I did not have to do it under the critical gaze of dozens of society ladies,’ Katherine retorted with a rueful smile, beginning to feel better.

‘Look,’ said Jenny, peering out of the window. ‘Carriages are arriving; it must be the guests who are staying over. There are two very plain redheads, a portly gentleman, and—oh, Miss Katherine, look at him! ‘

The man in question, as Katherine saw as she very reprehensibly joined her maid at the window, was tall, broad shouldered, and, so far as one could see from the first floor, extremely personable.

‘Stop staring,’ Katherine reproved hypocritically. Now, if that gentleman were to ask her to dance, it could not fail to stir a pang of jealousy in Nick’s breast. She made a decision: tonight she was not going to think common-sense thoughts, she was not going to be sensible, she was going to enjoy every moment, savour every opportunity to shine in her husband’s eyes.

‘And never mind tomorrow,’ she said mutinously just as there was a tap on the door.

‘That’ll be the bathtub, Miss Katherine,’ Jenny said, shooing her behind the screen before letting in two perspiring footmen with the tub and a procession of chambermaids with hot water. ‘In there,’ she directed, waving towards the dressing room.

On the other side of the connecting door, Nick paused and put down the knife with which he was paring his nails. The sound of cascading water reached him through the thick panels and he listened, head cocked on one side, to the muffled sounds.

Jenny’s voice, a rumble of answering male voices—the footmen. Silence, then swishing, more pouring. Adjusting the temperature, he thought, closing his eyes to better follow the unfolding scene just feet away. Jenny’s voice again, then Kat’s. Silence, then a laughing protest and more pouring—the water was too hot or too cold. A splash and Jenny’s voice, suddenly perfectly audible, ‘You’ve got it all over the floor, Miss Katherine! This tub is far too shallow.’ She was answered by laughter and another splash.

The image the words conjured up of Kat sitting, quite naked, in a shallow bath tub just feet away was so erotic that Nick found himself on his feet, one hand on the door handle, before he caught himself.

With a rueful shake of his head he turned on his heel, picked up the paring knife and retreated into his bedchamber, shutting the door softly behind himself. Control, that was what the situation demanded, he reminded himself as his new valet advanced ominously with a towel and a pair of scissors. ‘Just a little at the nape and behind the ears, my lord.’ Cuthbertson did not approve of his lordship’s liking for letting his hair grow.

‘As you will.’ Nick surrendered himself to his valet and pondered on just what it was about his provoking wife that made him want her so badly. And more than want her physically. True, she was beautiful, whatever she said to disparage her looks—but then he had experience of diamonds of the first water. True, she was brave, intelligent, resourceful and devastatingly unconventional when circumstances called for it—was that enough to make him lie awake at night wondering how to make her laugh, how to please her?

She had shared his bed twice, lain in his arms and left him as innocent as she had joined him. That, certainly, was provoking enough of sensual longings. But there were women aplenty to take care of inconvenient physical urges. Startled, Nick realised that the thought of being with any other woman was not so much repulsive as utterly impossible to conceive of. It was as though he was thirsty and someone had suggested he drink sea water. A shiver ran through him with the realisation that nothing was ever going to be the same again, whether he lost her or made her his.

‘My lord! I beg you to be still.’ Cuthbertson, flustered by almost taking a snip out of his new employer’s ear, stepped back hurriedly. ‘I beg your pardon, my lord, it was my own—’

‘No, I moved. Have you finished? You may shave me when I have had my bath.’

‘That will be the footmen with the water now.’ The valet put down the scissors with a tremulous hand and hastened to the door. To send a marquis to a ducal ball with a cut ear! He would never have lived it down, never.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Katherine started nervously as the clock struck the half-hour, to be followed by a tap on the door. ‘It is only me!’ Lady Fanny called coyly.

‘Urn …’

‘I had better let her in,’ Jenny said, rolling her eyes heavenwards as she went to open the door. ‘You’ll have to go down some time, you know.’

‘I know.’ Katherine took a steadying breath and stood up as her chaperon fluttered in. Lady Fanny was wearing a surprisingly elegant, if subdued, gown of dove-coloured silk and a headdress that clearly proclaimed by its ruching and feathers that she was amongst the chaperons and dowagers for the evening.

‘My dear Katherine!’ She stopped in the middle of the room and threw up her hands. ‘Oh, my goodness!’

‘Is something wrong?’ She should have known—something was unsuitable, or insufficiently elegant or …

‘You look ravishing, Katherine, positively ravishing. Oh, to be twenty again.’

‘Thank you, although I have to confess to being rather more than twenty.’ Cheered, Katherine managed to smile despite the cloud of butterflies in her stomach. ‘Your gown is lovely, Lady Fanny.’

The spinster patted the silken folds tenderly. ‘I have to confess to a weakness for evening gowns and treat myself to a new one every year.! She made it sound as though she were revealing a serious addiction to gaming. ‘But truly, my dear, that gown is quite inspired. Is it only from a Newcastle modiste?’

‘Yes, one Nicholas recommended.’ Katherine began to pull on her long kid gloves, holding out her arms in turn for Jenny to fiddle her way down the row of tiny pearl buttons.

‘Well, I never.’ Lady Fanny looked positively roguish. ‘Of course, he would know all the most fashionable establishments.’ She fluttered a little under Katherine’s startled gaze. ‘You must know he was quite the rake as a young man—so good looking too, although I have to confess he has grown even more so. All the girls were after him, and not just the respectable ones, if you follow me. Still, he sobered up when he fell for that Somersham chit—not that that lasted long when Cousin Lionel came to hear of it. Still, that is all in the past now and here he is home to become respectable again.’ She beamed happily, apparently forgetful of Katherine’s ambiguous position in Nicholas’s redemption.

‘Why was she so unsuitable, the Somersham girl?’ she asked curiously.

Lady Fanny shrugged. ‘The family was well to do enough, but not good ton, you understand—gentlemen farmers for the most part. And her father was always in and out of debt; apparently a fatal tendency to gaming of all kinds.’ She handed Katherine her reticule and twitched her own skirts into order. ‘Now, where did I put my fan? Oh, yes, here it is. A very pretty child though, Annabelle, or Arabella, I cannot recall exactly. Big blue eyes, golden curls and she always looked helpless. Men seem to like that.’

There was plenty in that to digest, Katherine thought grimly as Jenny fussed round her. ‘Will you come back up after dinner, Miss Katherine?’

‘Yes, thank you, Jenny,’ she agreed absently. So, the Duke had disliked an alliance with the daughter of a gamester and had disapproved of a girl from a gentry family. That could be me, if one substitutes brother for father, she acknowledged. It was as she had known all along, her instinct that this marriage could not stand was well founded. But this evening I am not going to remember that and I am going to make very certain that Nick is going to recall more about a brown-eyed, practical lady than he does about a blue-eyed helpless one.

‘Shall we go down?’ she suggested, following one step behind her chaperon as an unmarried girl should.

Nick was standing in the Crimson Salon, the main reception room that led into the larger of the dining rooms, parrying the questions, subtle and not so subtle, that old acquaintances, neighbours and almost-forgotten friends were asking.

It was not an easy task to reveal very little while at the same time not creating an air of mystery that would provoke even more gossip.

‘Yes, indeed, Lady Jarvis, I have to confess to fighting as a common trooper; a most instructive experience.’

‘Brave man,’ the dowager barked, rapping him painfully on the forearm with her fan. ‘Eccentric, but at least you weren’t gadding about like so many young officers seem to. At Waterloo, were you? Bad affair that, for all that we won. What does the Duke say about it, eh?’

‘I believe he would agree with you in categorising my behaviour as eccentric, ma’am.’ Nick smiled and passed on to greet another guest.

‘Lady Fanny Craven, Miss Cunningham,’ the footman announced as Nick turned to look at the door. At first he did not see her; several of Fanny’s old friends had turned too and moved to greet her.

Then the space between him and the doorway cleared. There was Kat and he was back in the Assistant Governor’s office in Newgate with the force of that first impression catching the breath in his throat. And as he had seen then, she was beautiful. Huge brown eyes, wide cheekbones tapering to a pointed chin, a mass of dark blonde hair caught up into elaborate coils in a gilt net—lovely, terrified, brave.

He doubted anyone else could see the fear she was controlling so firmly, but he knew his Kat. At least, he corrected, staring at the slender figure in its exquisitely simple gown, he knew several Kats, but not this one. Not this poised, lovely young lady who was following her chaperon obediently over to greet his father. He had seen a cheetah once: beautiful, sleek, apparently passive to its handler’s leash, until it had stood up and walked towards him with a grace that spoke eloquently of its power and its danger.

It was not the domestic cat, the docile single miss that she was pretending to be that he saw, but a strong, resolute, unconventional wild version. Could anyone else see it? He glanced around and met Robert’s startled look.

His brother edged over. ‘Is my mouth open?’ he hissed.

‘No,’ Nick assured him. ‘Not now. Spectacular, is she not?’

Robert’s low whistle was answer enough. ‘I’m off to ask her for the first waltz.’

‘You can’t have it, and neither can I. We cannot risk drawing attention to her by neglecting our duty dances in her favour. We will both have to wait until after supper. Stay here, it will not do for both of us to descend on her the moment she appears.’

Nick strolled off, following a meandering path through the chatting guests until he appeared, as if by chance, where Katherine was being introduced by Lady Fanny to the Gun-ton sisters. They broke off, wide eyed, and curtsied to him.

‘Lord Seaton.’

‘Miss Gunton, Miss Amelie, good evening. I hope you had a safe journey over the moors? I see Cousin Fanny has introduced you to her friend Miss Cunningham.’