A Kiss for Lady Mary (10 page)

Kit took another sip of tea. This was becoming deuced complicated, and now he’d only have four days to court Mary and convince her to wed him before their friends arrived. He had little doubt if Phoebe put her mind to it, she would find Mary a way out of marriage. She had almost done the same for Serena, and he didn’t want her interference.

If only he’d tried to fix his attention with her earlier; then again, there was the uncle to deal with.
Damn
, he must discover where the devil the man was. Mr. Tolliver might refuse to talk to Barham, but he damn sure wouldn’t be allowed to ignore Kit.

As it stood now, they’d have to wait for her birthday before they could marry, and that wouldn’t do. He wanted to wed her the moment she said yes. In addition, he was extremely concerned how long they had before the whole world knew they were not yet husband and wife. Good God! They couldn’t have the ceremony here. “We may have to make a trip across the border ourselves.”

She dropped her pen, and her eyes widened. “Whatever for?”

When had he become such a dolt? She hadn’t agreed to have him yet. He picked the pen up and mended it for her. “If you decide we should wed, we can’t have anyone here know we are not already man and wife.”

She bit her bottom lip. “My grandmother has a lot to answer for.”

He wasn’t going to argue that. So did his grandmother. “Parricide.”

“What?”

“The killing of a close family member. That’s the best I can do.”

“I like the sound of that word.” She gave a curt nod and went back to her lists.

Murder was looking better every minute. “It is almost time to change for dinner. Unless you wish to deal with the servants this evening, I propose you wait until morning before you advise the staff what is coming. In the meantime, we can take ourselves off for a tour of the estate and a picnic.”

“You might have a point.” She passed the feather end of the pen over her lips, and he found himself envying the pen. He’d much rather have his mouth in its place.

“The staff,” she continued, “has not had guests here since before your aunt died. There will be a great deal to do. I am more than happy to have a good night’s sleep instead of remaining up late to answer questions concerning beds and the like. I’ll tell them I want an accounting of items we must have and menu suggestions prepared for when we return.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Where are your aunt and the rector?”

“They must be playing least in sight.” Mary giggled, and Kit hoped it was a good omen. “You do know he is courting her?”

“I was made aware of that fact.” Kit drank the rest of his tea. “Shall I see you in the drawing room?”

She slid a look at him. “Yes. I promise not to run off again.”

Thank God for that
. “I know you won’t.” He placed a kiss on her palm, then closed her fingers around it. “We will make this work. I promise.”

A small sigh escaped Mary, and she gave him a tremulous smile. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

This must be more difficult for her than for me.
He already knew what he wanted. He’d just have to bring her round.

If only he knew how to court a lady. Kit gave himself a shake. He was bound to come up with something, and it had better be soon.

K
it closed the door to Mary’s parlor. The picnic was a start. Ladies loved eating out of doors. Being alone with her in a romantic spot would be the perfect way to begin their courtship.

He made his way down the stairs, opened the green baize door, then descended to the lower level. Simons and the housekeeper were sitting around a long dining table in close conversation. The cook supervised a kitchen maid turning meat on a spit in the fireplace, while keeping her attention on numerous pots on the stove.

“Excuse me for disturbing you.” The housekeeper’s eyes grew wide and she shot out of her seat. Though the butler’s expression didn’t change, he was standing before the housekeeper. Kit waited for the woman to compose herself, then said, “I have planned an outing for her ladyship to-morrow.” He focused on the cook, who stood arms akimbo with a wooden spoon in her hand, glaring at him. He eyed the spoon warily, remembering exactly what it felt like to have his knuckles whacked with one of those, and he didn’t wish to repeat the experience. Not that the cook would. He was the master here . . . Still, it didn’t hurt to tread lightly. “If you could make up a picnic basket to be ready in the morning, I would be in your debt.”

The woman’s countenance softened a bit. “Yes, sir. I know just what her ladyship likes.”

He noticed the cook didn’t ask what
he
liked. Ah well. As far as the staff was concerned, he was the errant husband and Mary a paragon. “Simons, send a message to the stables to have my curricle ready after breakfast.”

The butler bowed. “Yes, sir.”

Kit inclined his head slightly before retracing his steps and reaching his bedchamber. Hopefully Piggott had had the forethought to have a bottle of brandy ready. Nevertheless, considering how it could have gone, it had been a successful day, and he was looking forward to spending time alone with Mary.

“Sir.” The valet handed Kit his letters. “You left these in her ladyship’s parlor.”

“Thank you.” He opened the letter from home.

Leave it to Mama to get to the heart of things, and relieve him of two concerns. She would now probably busy herself concocting some believable story for the
ton
. He’d write back, asking her to send him a selection of family rings suitable for a wedding ring and have Papa search for Mary’s uncle as well as contact Barham about the marriage settlements.

“Do I have time to bathe?”

“No, sir, her ladyship is in the bathing chamber. I’ll have one drawn for you before you retire. I have water set up for you to shave.”

Kit thought back to Mary’s reaction at seeing him in the corridor, before she scurried off. He’d like to see that look again. Even more, he would like to join her in the bath. First things first. “Find out for me her ladyship’s favorite area, or the most romantic one for a picnic.”

“Of course, sir. I shall ask Miss Mathers.”

All Kit required now was a bit of luck and his famous address. He’d be leg-shackled before he knew it.

 

“Gawain, it is not good enough!” Cordelia Tolliver’s shrill voice cut through the cool air of her modest Cambridge home. Red splotches mottled her normally perfect complexion.

“Mama . . .” As much as he loved his mother, Gawain would have been happy to strangle her at this point. “I have searched everywhere. Lady Mary has disappeared. As I told you before, by the time I ascertained she was not in Bath, more than a month had elapsed.” Unfortunately, the maid he’d used for information was now never alone. Someone must have discovered she had been meeting him. “When I returned to the dower house, she wasn’t there, either. Nor is she in London.”

His mother glared at him without saying a word.

“Then I chased the old lady to every watering hole in England.” Something had to satisfy her. After all, he wanted the marriage as much as his mother did.

“Did you look for her at Lady Eunice’s residence and at all her children’s estates?”

“Yes.”

“Gawain, the longer you wait, the more we risk your father discovering what we’ve been doing, and then she will slip through your fingers. Not only that, but the Chancery court is bound to rule before too much longer,” his mother ended on a sob.

At least she’d stopped screeching. “I am well aware of that.” He rubbed his temples. “It’s as if she has dropped off the end of the earth. Perhaps she went abroad.”

Mama cast her eyes at the ceiling. “With whom? Her allowance would not cover extensive travel.” Her face brightened. “Unless she ran off with some man and married. Then the money is ours.”

Even his father would not allow such a blatant disregard of Mary’s father’s will. Gawain stopped scowling. He wanted Mary as well as the money. How else was he to gain entry into the upper levels of the
ton
? On the other hand, once he had the funds he would be a good catch and might not need his cousin. That would make his life easier. He could marry the daughter of an impoverished peer. A calm, biddable lady who would be happy to have him as her husband. “If only she had, but she’s not stupid. The gentleman would have to be as rich as Croesus to make her give up her inheritance.” But . . . the money . . . Of course. Why in the bloody hell hadn’t he thought of it before? “How does she get her allowance?”

“I’m not sure.” Mama turned a blank face to him. “I would imagine she draws on her account at Hoare’s.”

The ache in his head eased. “Then we must discover a way to find where the funds are sent.”

A smile lit his mother’s still lovely countenance. When she was young, she had been called
The Incomparable
. The only way his father got her to marry him had been by lying about his expectations. “Oh, my love. That is an absolutely brilliant idea.”

“You keep Papa busy, and I shall go through his papers this evening. Then I shall write to the bank in Papa’s name, asking for the information.”

“Oh, no need, darling,” Mama said with a wave of her hand. “He’s off chasing rocks somewhere.”

His father was always off somewhere studying giant stones. If it hadn’t been for that, this whole scheme Mama had hatched would have fallen apart. He leaned down and bussed her cheek. “I’ll find Cousin Mary.”

Mama squeezed his hand. “Soon you’ll be married, and we’ll have what we were cheated out of all those years ago.”

He couldn’t give her the title she had coveted for so long, but he could get the money. Perhaps then she would finally be happy.

 

Mary paced her parlor. It had been extremely nice of Kit to offer to court her. Even though she knew he could not be, he had even acted as if he was interested in her. Still, she must have a plan in the event she and Kit did not suit. After he left her parlor, she studied her copy of
Debrett’s
and confirmed her suspicion that Mary was the most common girl’s name in England. It was then the solution to her problems came to her. Not a perfect one, a better option than being forced into a loveless marriage.

She’d been out of Polite Society for so long, few would recognize her, and other than her very close friends, it seemed no one in the
ton
knew exactly who Lady Mary Featherton was. She could go abroad and live. She would need a companion, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Her brother supported dozens of poor relations. She would merely hire one of them. Once she came into her inheritance, she would find a way to tie it up in a trust so restrictive that no fortune hunter would want her, including Gawain. After a couple of years, if she hadn’t met a gentleman she wished to wed, she could return to England. Her grandmother had assured her not all men wished to marry young women. She only hoped Grandmamma was right.

Mary penned one letter to her brother’s man of business and another to Barham, explaining everything that was going on, what she wanted done, and authorizing him to act in her behalf. That was much better than waiting until her twenty-fifth birthday. When she’d sealed them into a packet, she summoned her groom, Terrey.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded on the door. “My lady, you wanted me?”

She handed him the package. “I need this sent to London as quickly as possible.”

“I’ll get them off to catch the mail coach right away.”

He closed the door behind him, and it was as if the weight of the world had lifted from her shoulders, almost as if she could float in the air. For the first time in years, she felt free. Now she could be courted without knowing whether or not she would actually marry Kit. What a wonderful position to be in. And if she was unable to love him, Mary would make plans to travel the Continent. Phoebe and Caro would help her make the arrangements.

 

An hour later, Mary stared into the mirror, fidgeting as her dresser arranged her hair.

“Do be still, my lady.”

“I am.”

Mathers huffed, but didn’t speak again. Once she was done, she handed Mary her spangled shawl.

Mary arrived in the drawing room to find Kit already there. She briefly considered telling him what she had decided. If he was serious about courting her, it wouldn’t matter, and if he wasn’t, then she wanted to know immediately. She could always change the orders regarding a trust if she decided to wed him. On the other hand, perhaps it was best to say nothing. For the time being, she’d enjoy her independence.

She smiled as he greeted her, raising her fingers to his lips. His breath hovered over them, and a tingle started in the tips, moving up through her arm. She’d felt a warmth before, but, oh my, that was very nice indeed. She’d always known she would enjoy being wooed.

Her breathing hitched as he gazed into her eyes. “Good evening, Kit.”

“Good evening, my dear.”

Oooh, an endearment, and he sounded sincere. He was certainly moving this courting business right along. She wondered how soon he’d kiss her, and if the kiss swept her away—just as she had always dreamed of—she’d know it was love.

She chewed her lip, wondering what he’d do next.

When he led her to the window-seat, she noticed two glasses of sherry on the table next to it as well as a chair. He’d also done his research as to what she liked to drink and where she preferred to sit.

Kit placed one of the cushions behind her, before sitting in the chair. “I think your rector may be joining us as well.”

That shouldn’t surprise her. Even though Mr. Doust had been very helpful when he took Aunt Eunice away this afternoon, and Mary had made the decision her aunt would have expected her to make, she dreaded seeing her aunt and Mr. Doust this evening. “He has been fond of Aunt Eunice for an age, and she of him. I wish them well.”

“As do I.” Kit leaned back in his chair, idly twirling his glass.

Mary took a sip. “I wish I knew more about him.”

He flashed her a smile. “Worried about your aunt?”

“Perhaps a little. You must admit, he is not your normal run-of-the-mill rector. He seems different somehow. Have you seen his horses?”

“It was one of the first things I noticed.” Setting his glass down untouched, he took her hand. “I don’t think you have much to worry about. I would wager he is a close relation to the Earl of Marnly. They are famous for their cattle. The earl is quite elderly. Mr. Doust may be one of his sons.”

“Then his horses make sense.” Eunice would be happy to remain in the area. She had mentioned something about it being like home. Mary felt the same, but she could not allow that to influence her choice of husband. She would wed for love and nothing less. “I suppose there is nothing to be concerned with after all.” Mary took a sip of her wine. “Tell me about yourself. I only know that you spend most of your time in London, own Rose Hill, and our grandmothers are friends.”

Kit stood, lounging against the side of the window seat. He truly did look magnificent. “I generally spend only the Seasons in Town. The rest of the year I reside at our principal estate, or travel to the lesser properties. As you might know, I am heir to Viscount Featherton, whom I sincerely hope lives to a ripe old age.” He grimaced a bit. “I have a sister who is two years younger than I. She has three children. A brother who will finish at Oxford this year, and is pegged for the foreign service. A younger sister who has been out for a couple of years now and appears to have finally settled on a gentleman. Two more sisters who will make their come outs next year and the year after, and a younger brother. Family tradition has him going into the army, but he’s much too bookish. I expect he’ll go to the church. Fortunately, my father holds several livings.”

Mary grinned. “I can understand why you wish him a long life.”

Kit raised his glass in a salute. “Indeed. Just the thought of having guardianship over the children has me in a panic. Though, we generally get along well. Have you only Barham?”

“No. I’m not actually the only girl. I have an elder sister, Osanna, but she has been married and living near Land’s End since I was nine. We are not close. She is the oldest. Barham also has several years on me, yet he has always been around, thus I know him better, and we rub along quite well. The twins, both men now, are close to my age, but they’ve left home. Our family traditions are not so different from yours. One is in the army, and the other in Vienna with the foreign service.” She had always wished for a sister closer to her age. “Do you know Barham?”