If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages) (13 page)

“Quite,” said Robert without a trace of emotion. He looked at Wynbrook and then back to her. “I shall check on Tristan and the ladies.” He turned and left directly.

Kate was aware she had been left alone in her bedroom with the Earl of Wynbrook. Left alone by her own brother, mind you. Kate glanced at Wynbrook to see if he had noticed the breach in protocol, but his eyes had fallen onto the packages on the bed.

“I believe I have found what you came to claim.” John gave her a cheery smile. “At least they did not make off with my Christmas present.”

“Oh, no, those are…those are just small tokens. Nothing really.” She watched in agony as he picked up the one she had labeled for him. “I just wrapped some shells for the girls, and some homespun I made for Tristan, since he seemed to like it so. ’Tis nothing, truly.”

“May I?” Wynbrook held his parcel in hand.

“If you must.” Kate almost couldn’t bear to watch.

He opened it slowly, as if savoring the process of opening a sealed package. It was agonizing but also strangely seductive, watching his nimble fingers work. The paper fell away. He stared at the object and a smile slowly spread on his face.

“It is only a blank ledger book for when you need another,” she said miserably. Why had she thought it appropriate?

“Oh, I know what this is.” He held the blank ledger book close to his chest. “A remembrance of our times balancing accounts.” He gave her a seductive smile that brought forcibly to mind the times those lips had been pressed on hers. “I shall treasure it always.”

* * *

Captain Silas Bones glowered into his ale. He had been so close! Damnable luck to have Lady Kate come up the stairs at that time. A few minutes more and he would have been out of the house.

A gentleman slid into the seat across from him in the dark corner of the working-class pub. By the look of his bruises and two black eyes, it appeared the man’s nose had recently been broken.

“Do I know you?” asked Silas, his hand instinctively on the pistol in the pocket of his greatcoat.

“No, but I know you, Silas. You were at Eton, no?” said the gentleman with a smirk.

He had been recognized. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“I am Sir Richard. I have been watching Wynbrook House, looking for a way to repay them for this.” He motioned to his face. “I watched what you tried to do and how you failed.”

“Piss off.”

“No, you misunderstand me. I am certain you intend to make trouble for Darington and his sister; thus, I only wish to help.”

“Help how?”

“I have information. I know where they are going, how they will get there.”

Silas shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “So tell me.”

“First, we discuss the price.”

So it was like that. “Fine, let us step outside,” suggested Silas. He got up, remembering his social graces, and led Sir Richard out the back way, to a dark alleyway.

“Now about my price—” Sir Richard stopped speaking abruptly as Silas shoved his pistol into Richard’s face.

“I would like to make a bargain with you,” said Captain Bones mildly. “But you see, I find myself a bit embarrassed of funds. What could I possibly give you in return for your valuable information?”

“Don’t kill me,” pleaded Sir Richard.

“Not kill you? Well, I suppose I could do that. Would that satisfy you?”

“Y-yes, yes. Wynbrook and family will be traveling soon to Arlington Hall. I can give you the address. I know the posting houses. I know the routes.”

“Keep talking,” said Silas with a smile.

“Are you sure you want me to stand up with you?” Kate was certain that Jane would change her mind if she only thought about it more carefully.

The week after Christmas had gone smoothly enough. Wedding clothes and all the things apparently needed to complete the bride’s trousseau were collected. Jane and Gareth had been celebrated at an engagement ball, and society quickly moved on to juicier gossip. Kate saw Wynbrook often, though always in company and always much engaged in managing his sister’s upcoming nuptials.

Security in the house had been increased. Robert had taken to patrolling the grounds with a rifle on his shoulder and a sword strapped to his side until he’d terrified more than one caller come to pay respects to the bride, and the ladies of the house had politely asked him to desist. In any event, the entire party decamped to Arlington Hall, their country estate, and the concerns of brazen London thieves were pushed aside.

Kate was beginning to enjoy spending time with Jane and Ellen, and apparently the feeling was mutual. The unfortunate part of this was that Jane asked Kate to be one of her bridesmaids—an honor Kate would have been happy to forgo. Why would anyone want her to be on display at their wedding? It defied explanation. And the gown that Jane had chosen defied something else entirely.

“Of course I want you here with me,” said Jane, smiling radiantly as Anne fixed a wreath of flowers on her head. It was the morning of her wedding and Jane was as beautiful as only a bride could be. “If it wasn’t for you, I would be marrying that wretch Sir Richard, not my true love.”

“But…” Kate struggled to come up with some reason why she could not perform the requested office. “Surely there are others more deserving of the honor than myself.”

Jane gazed at her reflection in the looking glass and smiled at the pretty picture that she indeed was. “I cannot wait to be wed!” She punctuated this statement by floating about the room in a dizzying, blissful haze. She had the coloring and the demeanor to make her chosen color for her wedding gown—a pale-pink blush—appear positively glowing.

Not trusting Kate’s questionable fashion sense, Jane had firmly offered to select the gown Kate wore to the ceremony. The chosen color was a deep shade of pink. Not blush, not salmon, not crimson, but pink. Pure, unadulterated pink.

“Do you not like this shade?” asked Jane, gesturing to the vision of pinkness. “I know it is a bit bold, but the color looked to me like love.”

“Love” was not a word Kate would have chosen. In truth, the only words that came to mind were not those she could utter before a lady. She contented herself with a long-suffering sigh. While Kate could never be accused of being on the right side of fashion, even she knew that with her coloring, such a shocking pink gown on her was nothing short of a travesty.

Kate took a deep breath. She’d been asked to do many difficult things in her life. But somehow those paled in comparison to the bright pink monstrosity. Yet none could accuse her of cowardice and so she dressed herself in the bright pink gown, trying to avert her eyes.

She thought the worst was done, but then lady’s maids appeared, wielding curling irons straight from the fire. Kate took a gulp and remained perfectly still for fear of being branded. The maids merrily chatted with each other while holding burning instruments of torture a mere whisper from her skin. Finally, they deemed her torment complete by placing a wreath of pink flowers on her head. Kate did not need to look in the glass to know she looked a fool.

It was time to leave, so Kate went downstairs to inform the rest of the party the bride was ready. She scrunched her nose at the odd feeling of wearing this new gown. The previous gowns she wore had not been quite so tight, nor had they required such rigid stays to hold everything in place. Despite wearing multiple layers underneath, the silk-satin gown did not rustle in a familiar way but rather slinked noiselessly and glossy smooth. If she ever were to commit a crime, satin would be the right choice for her attire.

“My word! Lady Kate?” The Earl of Wynbrook stared at her from the bottom of the stairs. He was impeccably dressed in a double-breasted gray tailcoat, but his eyebrows were raised almost to his hairline.

Kate stopped abruptly in the middle of the stairs, wondering briefly if it was too late to turn and run. There was no hope for it, so Kate cleared her throat and continued her descent. “Lady Jane is dressed and ready for the ceremony to commence,” she said, hoping to direct his thoughts to the activity at hand.

“You are looking very…” Wynbrook was not to be diverted from her unusual appearance.

“Prepared for the ceremony to begin?” she asked, hoping to turn the conversation away from her attire.

Wynbrook shook his head, the look of amazement still clear on his face.

“Delighted to be witnessing your sister’s wedding?” It was a futile attempt, but Kate thought she would give it one last try.

“No… You are looking so…”

“Pink,” she groaned.

“Yes! Pink. I’ve never before seen you look so…so…pink.”

“Your sister chose the gown.”

“I have no doubt she did.”

“I advised against it.”

“I am certain you did.”

Kate reached the bottom of the stairs but remained on the bottom step so as to look Wynbrook in the eye. “You do not appreciate your sister’s choice in palette.”

“On the contrary, I am finding her choice quite—”

“Don’t you dare say ‘amusing,’” Kate threatened. One could only take so much.

“Would not dream of it.” He spoke the words with solemnity, but his eyes were dancing. In truth, he had lovely green eyes, especially when they were full of merriment.

Kate cleared her throat and looked over his shoulder to the hallway beyond. It was most awkward to be standing next to the Earl of Wynbrook, wearing a shockingly bright gown. She had a sudden urge to wrap herself up in a shawl—a very large, very black shawl.

“You look very bright,” said Wynbrook in a halting cadence, as if filtering his words to find something palatable.

Kate glared at him, willing him not to say anything more.

“And very, very pink.” Wynbrook succumbed to the obvious.

“We have established I’m wearing pink.”

“It bears repeating.”

“We shall have to disagree on that score,” grumbled Kate.

“You do look quite—”

“Pink. I know. Please let them know they are about to bring Lady Jane downstairs.” Kate walked past him, trying not to look as if she were fleeing for her life. It was going to be a long day. A very long, very pink day.

* * *

Wynbrook stared after the retreating form of Lady Katherine in frank admiration. He had been utterly surprised to see Kate in such an unusual state of attire. He never thought he would see the day when Kate, whom he was willing to bet had never added a single ribbon of adornment to her hair, would wear such a bright color.

The grumbling demeanor aside, Kate was quite lovely. Her hair had been dressed in curls and the gown was designed in the current fashion, with a high waistline, a sculpted bodice, and a wispy skirt floating down the length of her body. Not every lady could wear this new fashion—it took a thin, statuesque figure to display the gown to best advantage. This was easily achieved by Kate, and so unconsciously done that it only added to her beauty.

Wynbrook paused. Beauty? Over the past few weeks, his admiration for her figure had increased to the point where he had to admit she was a handsome lady, but in the formfitting silk-satin, she became something more. She was a seductive siren, daring him to follow her onto the shoals…and follow her he would.

Wynbrook shook his head to dispel such thoughts and proceeded into the courtyard. Anne had taken control of deciding who would ride in what carriage and in what order, and Wynbrook was perfectly content to let her manage those details. Despite the nervous energy that had taken hold of Jane and his other sisters, Wynbrook was perfectly at ease. His middle sister would be married; social disaster had been averted; all was right in his world.

Wynbrook was to play the role of his father in the ceremony and so was ushered into their best carriage with Jane alone. It was a sobering moment, realizing he had taken his father’s place. He experienced the familiar ache of wishing his parents had not left this earth so soon. It should have been his father standing beside Jane today, and one look at the tears glistening in Jane’s eyes told him that she also felt his absence. It was every girl’s right to have her father proudly walk her down the aisle at her wedding. He handed Jane a handkerchief.

“You look very well,” he said, trying to redirect Jane’s thoughts to a happier topic.

“Thank you,” whispered Jane in a shaky voice.

Wynbrook did not know how to address the issue of their missing father, so he tried again at redirection. “You are marrying the right lad, you know. Glad it worked out the way it did.”

“Yes.” This gained him a smile, though she dabbed her eyes once more.

“Father would have approved.”

Jane turned to him, her eyes wide. “Do you think so?”

“Yes, of course he would. And Mum would have loved him.”

“Oh, I hope they would have. I fear I have lost a bit of confidence in my own judgment of character.”

“No need for that,” he reassured her, clenching his hands at the thought of Sir Richard. “You chose the right man in the end.”

“Thanks to Lady Kate. I shudder to think what would have happened if she had not opened my eyes to Sir Richard’s true nature.”

“Yes, we all are indebted to her.” The carriage rattled on for a moment before he added, “You put her in pink.”

Jane gave him a guilty smile and hid a giggle behind her hand. “I did, didn’t I? I suppose that was unkind.” But she said it with a laugh.

“She is bearing it with the demeanor of a prisoner being led to a firing squad,” drawled Wynbrook.

Jane laughed outright. “I fear it was most unkind of me to repay her kindness in such a manner. I thought only to brighten her for the wedding, but I could see this morning she did not care for it. By that point it was too late to change. What was I to do?”

“No, no, do not feel sorry one jot. I have rarely enjoyed anything more than seeing Kate in that lovely shade of pink. Reminds me of a cat you girls had when you were young and dressed it up as a baby.”

Jane laughed again. “Poor Muffin. She was a very long-suffering cat.”

“I swear Kate has the same look in her eye.”

They both laughed.

The wedding progressed as weddings should and Kate, the long-suffering, stood bravely before the assembly in her shocking shade of pink. If her demeanor resembled something more appropriate to a funeral than a wedding, at least she performed her required office honorably and did not run screaming from the church.

After the wedding, Anne took over the arrangements for traveling back to Arlington Hall for the wedding breakfast. Naturally, the bride and groom would ride together, and the remaining wedding guests were ushered into different carriages, leaving Kate and Wynbrook to ride the relatively short distance together. Wynbrook was initially pleased, though one glance at Kate told him the feeling was not mutual.

Kate climbed into the carriage, ignoring the offered hand of the coachman. She swung herself up easily into the carriage and settled onto the red squabs. The red velvet clashed garishly with the bright pink of her gown, making it appear even more gaudy and unnatural.

Wynbrook climbed in after her only to be received by a most unwelcome glare.

“Why do you not ride with your sisters?” demanded Kate. “I’m sure they would be glad of your company.”

“I cannot speak to the pleasure they may or may not have in my presence, but I will say that Anne has directed me to escort you in this carriage, and when it comes to wedding arrangements, I dare not oppose her in any way.” He thought that would be the end of any debate on the subject and was surprised that she pursued the matter.

“But the wedding is over. Now you should be able to ride with whomever you wish.”

“The wedding over? My dear girl, now comes the wedding breakfast, followed by the wedding tea and the wedding dinner, followed by the wedding card game, the wedding supper, and finally, the wedding bedchamber. I may not know much about any of this, but I do know that on the day of the nuptials, everything has the word ‘wedding’ in front of it and even the most benign activity takes on the significance of a high and holy moment. I have learned to stand where I’m directed, smile when instructed, and do what I’m told.” He rapped on the ceiling to let the coachman know they were ready to leave whenever it was appropriate in the procession.

Kate sighed loudly, so loudly that it resembled more of a growl.

Wynbrook attempted polite conversation. “I believe it was a successful wedding.”

“Yes, the intended bride and groom were married at the end of the ceremony, thus a successful conclusion to the event.” Kate had not a shred of romance in her.

“Yes, indeed, but I was considering the whole manner in which they were wed. The bride was appropriately blissful, the groom was stoic, the church was packed, and the bridesmaids were fashionably attired.”

Kate glared at him with such venom he shifted a bit farther away from her on the velvet squabs, though he already sat across from her.

“This gown is not fashionable; it is fatal. I fear if I am forced to wear this thing for one moment more I shall scream or spontaneously combust or go mad.”

“It is perhaps not a typical color palette for you.” Wynbrook chose each word carefully, making sure he did not laugh openly at her, so she had no reason to wrap one of those ridiculous pink ribbons around his throat.

“It is
pink
.” She spat the word as if it were poison on her tongue.

“So very pink.” He could not keep the mirth from bubbling past his lips. She was utterly outraged, and the comparison with Muffin the cat was too great to suppress his laughter.

“That’s it. I cannot stand to be in this gown. I must change now.”

“It will not take too long to get back to the house. I am certain my sister would understand if you changed into some other frock once you arrived.” He tried valiantly to contain his amusement at her discomfort.