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Authors: Mary Moore

Tags: #Romance, #Love Inspired Historical, #Historical

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BOOK: Beauty in Disguise
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“And you spent days
and nights
alone with him without the bonds of matrimony. You chose complete ruination over me.”

Her pain increased one hundred fold. She had lived a complete lie for the past nine years. She had been manhandled and rejected in position after position. She had lost her father and the man she had loved. And he focused on one thing:
her big mistake.
Her ruination.

“Lady Kathryn,” he said through clenched teeth, “I will bid you goodbye.”

She watched him walk away from her through the tears in her eyes, and she knew he was gone for good. She had lost her reputation, her father and him. How would she survive this?

Chapter Seven

T
wo weeks later, Dalton sat alone in his library after an evening of cards with his friends. He was not foxed, but he drank enough tonight that he had no control over his heart, and his feelings came to the surface like a bubbling caldron.

He was tired. And though he had tried to overcome it in London, he was still angry at her. Indeed, it seemed to increase with time. How could he have been so dim-witted? He had worked with Wellington himself, yet could not see Lady Kathryn through a wig and spectacles! He put his head in his hands. He captured spies with such elaborate costumes they were almost impenetrable. She had fooled him with a wig, glasses and a voluminous cape.

Every angle of her features had been etched into his heart years ago. And because it was so, none other had been able to penetrate his heart.

He could tell himself it was because so much time had passed and she was the last person he expected to see, but he prided himself on his military training. He thought it was always with him; apparently he was wrong, and that made him a failure. She had made a laughingstock out of him, even if it was only in his mind.
Lord, how does one go about forgiving that?

Her story had been so fantastic that it was hard to believe. But she could not have made up the things she spoke of. She would not have known about those things had she not experienced them. And contrary to what he had said, it broke his heart.

He did not want it to. He did not want to care what happened to her at all. But she had left him to
elope.
How had her father kept that secret for so long? He had spent weeks trying to discover her whereabouts.

This fortnight in London had been hard. He did not wish to give rise to talk, so he could not tell anyone. He wanted to be sure to protect her reputation, even as his heart balked at it.

He knew she had been waiting for some indication of what he felt for her then. He would not give her the satisfaction. As far as he was concerned, she would never know that he had fallen in love with her after only two months’ acquaintance.

He remembered the exact moment he had recognized it as love. They were waltzing, always his happiest times with her.

“Have I told you how very beautiful you are tonight, Lady Kathryn?”

“Yes, my lord, you have.” She looked up into his eyes and laughed. “Only about one hundred times. I was beginning to think you did not notice.”

They had always enjoyed easy laughter. He loved that it came so natural to her.

“How can I make it up to you?”

“Say you will take me riding in the morning. I hate going during the afternoon crush when all that matters is what you are wearing and who you are with. I wish to gallop. And Gypsy told me only this morning that she will seek new ownership if she does not get one soon.”

“I certainly cannot disappoint Gypsy, now can I?”

She looked up at him with adoration, or so he thought, and he fell under the spell of her sapphire- blue eyes, where he knew he would remain forever.

“Lady Kathryn, you continue to stare at my chest rather than my chiseled face.”

She smiled up at him.

“While looking there, did you happen to notice my new stickpin?”

“Actually, my lord, I was admiring the intricate details of your cravat.”

“Minx! If you will look a little closer, you will see a sapphire stickpin holding the mesmerizing folds.”

“It is beautiful. I like it very much.”

He spoke next in a low, soft whisper. “It reminded me of the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen. I think of them each time I look in the mirror to add the finishing touch.”

Those eyes spoke volumes to him. They convinced him that she felt the same. But he could not talk of his feelings in the middle of a dance floor.

“Someday, I will introduce her to you.”

Her initial shock gave way to a devious smile. “Be careful, my lord, that you do not end up hoisted by your own petard.”

His laughter turned the heads of dancers close by.

“Kathryn, you are making a public spectacle of us.”

“You called me Kathryn.”

“Did I? I am sorry. I thought that was your name.”

“I have been wishing to ask you for weeks now if you would call me by my Christian name.”

“I suppose I needed to know it was...the right time.”

That made her blush. He kept trying to remember how young she was, but she had been the woman of her father’s household since her mother died. She had only been twelve, so she seemed so much older than her years.

“Do you think you could call me Christopher, my sweet Kathryn?”

“No, my lord, that would not be proper, especially in my first Season. But I will think of you as such.” She smiled, and he could see into her soul through her eyes. He was sure she was awakening to feelings she had not known before, but he did not want to scare her.

“Dalton, then, I insist. No more ‘my lording’ me.”

“Very well, Dalton.”

And his heart became permanently hers.

Looking back on it now, he did not know what to think. She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but her maturity had enhanced it somehow. He could not deny that, as much as he wished to.

But he could deny he had any feelings for her now. To be so deceptive went against everything he believed in. She had eloped! He wanted to say he was well out of it; that it was such a reprehensible course of action, but somehow that she chose to leave him was worse and it injured his heart. That had been her choice—a choice she made freely.

He could understand why she felt that donning a disguise had been necessary. She had been through some of the lowest part of a Society that believes it acceptable to prey on women in the lower orders. In his hazy condition he wanted to make that right for her. He wanted what he always wanted—to love and protect her from any hardship.

No! He could not change what happened to her, and she had not told him the truth. For three days she had had an opportunity to do so and had not. He would not say “poor, pitiful me” as he swiped away an angry tear. He would put the blame where it belonged, on her.

Yet tonight, memories of the past would not let go of him.

They had taken a drive to Richmond Park one glorious day, and they had shared themselves completely.

“Kathryn, I have had thoughts of nothing but the army since I was a lad. I am beginning to believe that you have changed all of that.”

“No, my lord, I would not wish to be the cause of a broken dream, no one would. You would one day wonder how your life would have been different had you gone to fight for your country. You must tell me more about it. I know so little about the war.”

“I did not bring it up to sully your ears, my sweet.”

“Please do not treat me like a child. In what way do you want to serve?”

“I have dreamed of a cavalry regiment.”

“You wish to be in the thick of things, then?”

He was surprised at her understanding. He kept thinking of her as too young.

“I suppose so, but not for glory or the way the uniform looks. I want to fight for England from the tyranny of Bonaparte. I want to clear a path for the foot soldiers to get through.” He had not wanted a discussion about the war. He wanted to let her know he thought only of her now. “I do not wish to ruin the joy of our ride.”

“I will worry about you in such danger. But I will be so very proud to know you.”

But his dream waned when he realized he wanted to marry her. He wanted to be near her, take care of her. With his education, he thought he could get a position in the War Office in London. He had planned it all.

But she cared for his dreams so little that she agreed to an elopement...an elopement with Lord Salford!

He had not remembered him during their conversation two weeks ago; he had been in shock by his surprise at finding her there. But he remembered Salford now. Everyone knew he was a lecherous fortune hunter. Everyone, it seemed, but Lady Kathryn. He was twenty years older than she, at a minimum!

His anger changed to more maudlin thoughts. How could she have chosen Salford over him? He had fallen in love with her. She was so young; he wanted her to understand real love. He wanted to teach her that. Apparently, she had found a more practiced suitor.

He now knew why pride was such an easy sin to commit, and why it was an easy sin to sustain. It had happened nine years ago when she left him. And it happened again when she told him of Lord Salford. And he had reacted the same way both times: he had run away. He thought of the irony—they seemed to have that in common.

So he had run again, this time to Rye to visit his mother and meet with his steward, to leave London and the memories of their time there together behind him.

After settling Merlin into his stall, he entered the house, purposing to go straight to his room until he could calmly be with his mother. He still needed time to think. Kathryn was not the woman he thought he knew, and there was the rub—apparently she never had been.

As he passed the drawing room, his mother was leaving it and she smiled, delighted to see him. “Christopher, I did not expect to see you so soon. I thought that you would be in London longer after you left Sir John’s.”

“I did go to London for a time. There was a matter I needed to take care of. It is done, and I will return to Town in a few days.”

“Is something wrong, love?”

“It is something I must work through. I will overcome it— I must. Do not worry.”

“Let us go where we may talk. If you have something to sort out, it always helps to have another perspective, someone to listen while you talk it out.”

“I think not, Mother. It is done.”

“I shall not press you, then. I will see you at breakfast?”

“Of course.”

The next morning was still too soon to be in his mother’s company, but too late to leave her now. He would excuse himself to take care of estate business and be more prepared to face her the next time.

But that is not how it transpired.

“Christopher, I would like you to sit with me awhile.”

He did not ask for a second reprieve. In truth, he was so troubled he thought he needed another’s counsel.
Her
counsel.

She sat in her damask-covered chair near the fire. He went to the mantel and stared down into it. She left it to him to begin the conversation, but he knew she would not be still long.

“Mother, I do not even know where to start.”

“Maybe you should start at the beginning.”

“I met a woman in Trotton. I was intrigued, but it was Kathryn.”

“My goodness, Kathryn haunts you still?”

He laughed at how closely she came to the truth while never being further from it.

“No ma’am, it actually
was
Lady Kathryn.” He sat down in the chair next to hers, eyes still lost in the fire. She did not cry out in surprise. She did not even urge him to continue. He loved her for that.

“Once I start, I fear I will not be able to stop. You will find it preposterous. I give you fair warning.”

“I have nowhere to go, my dear. I
wish
to hear it all.”

He spent the next two hours sitting, pacing and explaining all that had happened at Dinsmore Manor. He told her about Kathryn’s masquerade, not only as the lady on the bridge but as the companion to Miss Charity. “It was all her. Miss Montgomery and the woman on the bridge were the same woman—Lady Kathryn.”

Even his mother could no longer keep her countenance. “Oh, my darling, what a shock for you! Did she explain why? I do not see why she would lie to
you.
” He knew she would understand his pain, she always had.

He tried to stop the catch in his voice, but each time he thought of it, as many new emotions tugged at his heart. He walked to the window that looked out on pristine lawns.

He felt her hand on his shoulder, and she said, “Then you do not know why she felt the need for the charade? I can only guess at your imaginings.”

“No, Mother, there is more.” He led her back to the sofa and joined her there. “I was determined to hear the truth.”

“Then you
do
know why she went to such lengths to keep her identity a secret.” It was a statement, not a question. “You know why she left London so many years ago.”

“Yes, I do.” He sat forward and leaned his elbows on his knees. His legs began a nervous bounce. “She eloped.” He waited for his mother’s reaction, but none was forthcoming. He went on in a harsher voice. “She eloped with the lecherous Lord Salford. She left me for him.” Again he expected a gasp, an intake of breath, something to show she shared his vehemence. Very well; he would make a clean breast of it. “When her father discovered their intent, he disowned her. The fortune-hunting Salford left her unwed and ruined at Gretna Green.”

This time the reaction came, but it was not what he expected. “Oh, that poor girl!”

He stood, staring down at her in disbelief. “That poor girl? That poor girl? Is that all you have to say?”

BOOK: Beauty in Disguise
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