If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages) (22 page)

She was outvoted. Wynbrook, Miss St. James, even her own brother felt that she should marry the Earl of Wynbrook, one of the biggest matrimonial prizes in all of Britain. Kate swallowed convulsively. Her world had just slid sideways. This could not possibly be happening. Everyone was silent in the room.

“I think I should attend to some of my correspondence,” said Emma with a tight smile. She gave Kate one last sympathetic glance before leaving the room.

Both men stood at her exit. Wynbrook sat down once more beside Kate, but Robert lingered on his feet. He gave the unhappy couple a brief nod and then headed for the door. “Good luck,” he said in a voice so soft Kate was not sure if it was intended for herself or for Wynbrook.

The door closed behind him with an ominous click. Silence once more fell upon the room, suffocating her with its vast emptiness. She sat beside Wynbrook, yet they might have been sitting at opposite ends of the empty room for how much distance she felt between them.

“So I gather you are not pleased with the prospect of becoming my wife.” Wynbrook stretched his long legs out before him and reclined against the back of the settee in a most relaxed manner. He was positively lounging.

“How is it that you are so much at your ease?” demanded Kate, spearing him with what she hoped was a piercing look. He did not seem at all distressed.

“If we are to wed, it would not be inappropriate to make ourselves comfortable around each other.”

“If I were to be comfortable, I would have to remove this damned new set of stays,” grumbled Kate.

Wynbrook’s eyebrows shot up. “I invite you to do so. Most passionately.”

Kate scowled at him and changed the subject away from the topic of her undergarments. “You are showing a decided lack of surprise at this turn of events.”

“I confess, I had decided a proposal from me would need to be forthcoming. My only disappointment is the papers anticipated my pronouncement. I was trying to decide how best to broach the subject and now I no longer have to strain myself to devise the perfect plan.”

“Why should you need to propose? There is no need, I assure you.”

“I kissed you.”

Kate felt as if he had sucked all the air from her lungs. She opened and closed her mouth, not able to speak. Not able to breathe. He mentioned the kiss. She had hoped he would never speak of it.

“Several times, actually,” Wynbrook continued. “Once might be forgivable, but repeatedly? And of course I will not even mention our sleeping arrangements of two nights ago. No, a proposal is required.”

“There were extenuating circumstances,” Kate insisted, still trying to remember how to breathe. “It was simply a case of being thrust together.” Her mouth went dry at the recognition of the words that had just fallen out of her mouth. “It could have happened to anyone,” she added quickly.

Wynbrook stubbornly shook his head. “If the situation had been reversed and Dare had come to me for help to find you, I would not have—”

“Yes, yes, you need not be ridiculous.”

“The truth is I kissed you.” He looked back and forth as if checking to make sure the room was indeed empty and moved closer to her in a conspiratorial manner. “And I have the lingering impression that you kissed me in return.” He leaned closer so that he was whispering in her ear, his breath warm on her skin. “And what is worse, I enjoyed it, and I believe you enjoyed it too. In truth, I would like to kiss you right now.”

Kate turned to tell him to stop whispering tempting words in her ear, but she turned toward him, not away, and now her lips were dangerously close to his. She froze, unsure what she wanted to do, but Wynbrook was not so undecided and quickly closed the gap, pressing his lips to hers.

Kate’s arms wound around Wynbrook of their own accord and he returned the embrace, pulling her close to him and deepening the kiss.

When their lips finally parted, Kate took a ragged breath. What was she doing? How could she let him kiss her again? “I…I confess a small attraction between us.”

“Nothing between us is small,” interrupted Wynbrook.

“But it does not change anything.” She stood up and took a step back. “It cannot change anything.”

Wynbrook rose to his feet, the smug, satisfied look fading from his face. “Whatever do you mean? That kiss changes everything.”

“No, no, it cannot. There are things about me you do not know. Things that make it impossible for me to wed.” Kate took another step back and cast a furtive glance at the door. “I am sorry, truly I am, but I cannot marry you. It is simply impossible.” She turned and ran from the room.

Kate sat in the window seat of her room and stared out onto the ocean, the sunlight casting sparkles along the churning waves. The rhythmic roar of the ocean was comforting and familiar in a world turned upside down. Wynbrook wished to marry her.

Marry
her.

But of course, that could never be.

A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She paused a moment, not sure she was up to another round with Wynbrook, or her brother, for that matter. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Emma.”

“What do you want?”

A perpetually cheerful face popped in the doorway. “Talk? I brought tea and pastries.”

“I am really not in the mood for conversation.”

“Just tea then,” said Emma, carrying in a tea service.

Kate wanted to tell her to go away, but the smell of the cook’s scones and the rumble of her stomach overruled her pride. Perhaps a good cup of tea was exactly what she needed. Emma placed the tea service on a small table and carried the table over to the window seat, so Kate would not need to move.

Emma poured the tea and offered the scone, sitting next to her on the window seat and sipping on her own cup.

“This is a lovely view,” she commented.

“Yes,” agreed Kate. She had forgotten how much she enjoyed watching the waves from her high perch in Greystone Hall.

“I know we only just met, but it seemed to me that perhaps you would like someone to talk to or just someone to be a friend. I hope you know I would like to be that friend.” Emma gave her an encouraging smile.

Despite being annoyingly perfect, it was hard to dislike Emma St. James. It would have been like kicking a puppy. It just felt wrong.

“Thank you,” said Kate, taking another sip of tea. “You have been very kind to our family.”

“Forgive me, for I know it is none of my concern, but I see the way Lord Wynbrook looks at you and you at him. Why are you opposed to marriage?”

“I do not wish to marry someone out of obligation.”

“I am sorry I read those gossip columns. They always seemed to be about faraway people in society. People who were not real. Now I see the true damage gossip can cause, and I am ashamed of myself for being a party to it.”

“’Tis hardly your fault.”

“Nor is it yours for what was written,” returned Emma. “I would hate to see anyone throw away a chance at happiness because of a few idle words.”

Kate shook her head. “You do not understand. I can never marry anyone. I have seen things…done things. Marriage is not possible for me.”

Emma gave her a sympathetic look and passed the jam. “I believe our hardships produce in us the fortitude to triumph over our challenges. For as it is written in Romans 5:3–5,
We glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope: And hope maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us.
”

“Sorry, but I do not care to glory in my tribulations. And I think patience is an entirely overrated character trait.”

“But what of hope?” asked Emma with an infectious smile. “It seems you could use some. What of the love of God being poured into your heart? I believe our hardships are actually blessings in disguise.”

Kate snorted. Blessings in disguise? What kind of tea was this girl drinking? She was about to retort that it was easy to glorify sufferings if you never had any, but she stopped a moment before the words left her lips. Perhaps Emma was more familiar with tribulations than one would initially guess. “Why are you sailing to America to get married? Have you hardships that led to the choice?”

Emma’s countenance turned almost guilty, as if caught at something she wished to remain hidden. “I was very close to my father. My mother died when I was young, and it was just him and me. When I got older, he thought I needed a mother figure in my life, to help me and bring me out in society. I believe when he married my stepmother, he was thinking mostly of me. Unfortunately, he died, leaving me with her and her son.”

Emma’s smile faded and an uncharacteristic frown settled on her somber face. “They wished for me to sign over my inheritance to him, saying he could manage the estate better than I. When I refused, they demanded I marry him.”

“That is horrible!” exclaimed Kate.

“I confess, I was not pleased. Then they hit upon the idea that I could wed a man in America.”

“But do you not see they are just trying to get their hands on your inheritance?”

“Yes, of course. But I do not mind going to America. I think it will be a grand adventure. Why, I’ve had such a diverting time so far.”

“I would not call this diverting.”

“I have met such nice people.”

“But, Emma, they are essentially robbing you of your inheritance. You cannot let them do that.” Kate spoke passionately from experience.

“My happiness is more important than my inheritance, is it not? Besides, maybe someday I will return. Or maybe someday I will not. Either way, I am free of a situation that was deeply unpleasant, and I have the opportunity to travel and see wonderful new places.” Emma’s eyes sparkled. “Truly, I would not miss this adventure for a thousand country homes.”

Kate sipped her tea. Maybe whatever Emma was drinking would inflict her with a similar joy without regard to circumstance. Give Emma her due—at least she was happy.

“So will you at least try?” asked Emma.

“Try what? I am not going to America in search of a husband.”

“No, but maybe you could walk to the drawing room?”

“If Wynbrook knew me, knew the whole story, he would not have proposed.”

“Why do you not test your theory and see if it’s true? Tell him the truth.”

“What if he rejects me?”

“What if he doesn’t?” Emma gave Kate a sweet smile, picked up the tea tray, and skipped out of the room, which honestly was rather hard to do while holding a tea tray.

Kate stared after her. Who was that girl?

She did not have long to wait before there was another knock on her door. It was her brother.

“You should not be out of bed,” she chastised, jumping up to help him into a chair.

“Cannot lie about,” he grumbled.

“You certainly can. How else do you think you will recover?”

He shrugged. “Talked to the magistrate. Told him the version you told the staff. They are out looking for the men who did it. Wish I could go myself.”

“Don’t even think it. You can hardly stand.”

“Do what I have to. Hopefully, I don’t have to.” Robert sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. He was paler than usual, and Kate did not care to see it. He was always so invincible, seeing him vulnerable was not welcome.

“You should see Emma. She has scones. And jam,” Kate added.

A rarely seen smile lit Robert’s face though his eyes remained closed. “I know. She brought me some.”

“She is a good person.”

Robert opened his eyes. “The best.”

“She thinks I should talk to Wynbrook.”

“So do I.”

“Is that why you are here?”

Robert nodded. “Know you don’t want to be married. Know the reasons why too. Think you should give Wynbrook a chance.”

“And if he should reject me?”

“He won’t. Better not, anyways. Even if he does, you won’t be in any different place than you are now.”

“Yes, I would. If I reveal my secrets to a man who rejects me, then I have been scorned and thrown aside, discarded like so much rubbish.”

Robert paused a moment and gave her an appraising look. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Her voice was small. She sat back down at the window and pulled her knees up to rest her chin on them. The ocean swirled below her in a constant yet unpredictable motion.

“Talking involves risk. Fortunately, my sister is no coward.” Robert struggled up out of the chair and walked stiffly out the door, shutting it behind him.

He was wrong. She was scared beyond reason.

Wynbrook finished a letter to Tristan and another to Anne. He was certain they would not be pleased with him. To have such vulgar gossip about the family in the
Times
was anathema to Anne. He hoped Tristan would soon arrive with the license. Considering he still held the man’s suitcase, he had no doubt Tristan would travel with all due haste.

While he was fearful his family was irritated at him, he was certain Kate was more so. He wondered what could be so horrible that he would not wish to marry her. Was she a Napoleonic spy? Did she have a love child hidden in Gibraltar? Twin love children?

A quiet rustle at the door caught his attention and the object of his musing stepped tentatively into the room. Kate paused, hesitant and unsure, quite at odds with her usual direct manner. She glanced at the door as if ready to make a run for it at any moment. He stood up slowly, afraid any sudden movement would make her take flight.

“Hello,” he said.

“Good day,” she returned.

Silence.

“Have you had tea?” he asked, trying to stick to benign topics.

“Yes. Emma brought it. Though I suppose as hostess I should have poured it.” She shook her head as if mentally chiding herself. “You see what a wretched countess I would make.”

“Come, please sit. It has been a difficult day.” He smiled and hoped she would sit next to him on the settee. She chose a chair as far from him as possible.

“Emma and Robert think I should be married. To you,” she added, just in case he could possibly be confused on this point.

“Excellent. I’m glad to know I have allies.”

“They think I should let you know why I cannot be wed, so you can decide.”

“About that. I have decided to accept your twelve children born out of wedlock and adopt them as my own.”

“What?” She was aghast.

“Your love children. I am trying to imagine what would be so horrible I would not wish to wed you. Illegitimate offspring was the best I could come up with. There aren’t actually twelve, are there?” He was a little anxious.

“There aren’t any!”

Wynbrook let out a breath, more relieved than he wished her to know. “Well now, that’s a relief, because making up a story to cover all twelve would take more imagination than I’ve got.” Wynbrook hoped to make her smile but Kate was not having it.

“What would make you think that I would…that I would have…that I would do that?”

“Nothing. Only you have skulked in here like you have a horrible secret and I have been racking my poor brain to figure out what it might be.”

“I will have you know my virtue, such as it is, is quite intact,” she said primly. “Though yours is not the first bare arse I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, now you have me intrigued. Please come and tell me the whole story. I have a feeling it will make a good tale. Is there a captain with a peg leg in it?”

“No. Well, actually I have met a captain with a peg leg, but he was married with twelve children.”

“I knew somewhere there were twelve brats!”

Kate gave a reluctant smile and he was gratified to finally break through her icy reserve. If ever he did win her heart, her devotion would be worth the effort, for it was not easily bestowed.

“Now come sit next to me and tell me your tale. I promise not to bite…unless you ask me to.”

“You are incorrigible.” Her tone was disapproving, but she did sit next to him.

Wynbrook said nothing, hoping his silence would make her feel more inclined to share.

Kate took a deep breath and began to speak, staring straight ahead of her, never once glancing at him. “When we were twelve, we were called home from boarding school for our father’s funeral and found the house had been gutted. We were told our father had left us deeply in debt, though we knew that could not be possible. It was clear any money we had and any valuables we owned besides the estates themselves had been stripped from us. What was not clear was who had done it or why.”

Wynbrook covered one of her hands with his in a silent gesture of compassion. She took a breath and continued.

“We were informed by the steward that we needed to travel to London to see our godfather and legal guardian, General Roberts, a friend of our father’s. We made the journey, but when we arrived, we were informed that our guardian was too busy to attend to us. We were quite alone in the world.”

“Too busy? Unforgiveable! Was there no one else? None to whom you could turn?” Wynbrook could not remember a time when he did not have a multitude of friends and relations. He also had lost his parents but had been immediately surrounded by family. How could Kate, at only twelve years, be left so unprotected in the world?

Kate shook her head. “We have no other living family. We were told we were paupers due to our debts. The steward handed us over to some rough men who deposited us in debtors’ prison.” She turned away so he could not see her face.

“Debtors’ prison?” He was certain he must not have heard right. “But you are members of the peerage. That cannot be.”

“I assure you it can be if you have no friends and those around you deny who you are. The prison guards were told we were the children of a dead merchant who had not paid his debts and that we were habitual liars and to pay no heed to anything we said.”

“Oh, Kate. Now I understand why you set free all the children of Fleet.” It was all starting to make sense.

“Yes. It was a memorable experience.”

Wynbrook squeezed her hand. “I cannot believe such a thing could happen.”

Kate kept her face turned from his. “We were fortunate. We were only there a week.”

“A week!”

“Some people live much of their lives in prison.”

“But you should not have been there at all!” he growled. It was wrong, so very wrong. “Where is this bastard steward? I cannot believe he could get away with this.” He was ready to take the man to task himself.

“The steward is dead. After we escaped Fleet, we found the man murdered.”

“Murdered!”

“Clearly someone ensured he would not be able to talk.”

“So if someone killed the steward, then he was merely the pawn of a larger player.”

“Yes, exactly so.”

“And you never found out who did this to you?” he demanded. One hand lay gently on Kate’s but the other was clenched at his side.

“To this day, we do not know.”

“But how did you escape?” he asked, still incensed that his precious Kate would be so mistreated.

“One of Robert’s teachers, a rather unconventional fellow, had been let go from his post and followed us to London, I think in the hopes of gaining a position as a tutor. Instead, he discovered our plight and paid enough of a bribe to secure our release.”

“This cannot be. It cannot happen,” said John, unable to get past the unfairness of it all.

She finally turned to him with sympathy in her eyes. She patted his hand as if trying to comfort him. He needed to pull himself together. He was supposed to be consoling her.

“After we left the prison,” continued Kate in her most businesslike air, “we found ourselves in a tenuous position. We were only twelve years old and obviously had not reached majority. The steward had been murdered, and we were fearful whoever came after him would come after us next.”

“What did you do? You must’ve been terrified. Had you no one to protect you?” John was on the edge of his seat.

“I suppose this is a rather lurid tale. All I need is a peg-legged captain and I could pen the next popular novel.” Kate gave him a weak smile.

For once, Wynbrook did not feel like making light of the conversation. He was too angry at the injustice done to her to see any humor in the story. “I fear I cannot laugh at any story in which you are hurt.”

A softness crept into Kate’s light eyes and she continued her story. “Our best course seemed to be to take our well-being into our own hands. We both agreed that, though young, we could hardly do worse caring for ourselves than anyone else had. So we went to court to gain Robert’s majority.”

“At the age of twelve?” Wynbrook was incredulous.

“It does seem young now, but we did not know what else to do. We were helped in this regard by our tutor. He was the only one we could trust.”

A spark of humor shone in her eyes, and Robert guessed this was one part of the tale she recalled in a positive light. “I fear what I have to tell you does not reflect well on myself or Robert. I would remind you that we were twelve years old and in desperate straits.”

“Yes, of course. Please do go on. I can’t imagine how you survived this.” He squeezed her hand and realized she was holding his. He did not recall how it had come to be, but he was glad for it.

Kate gave him a brief nod to acknowledge his comment. “Our tutor snuck in to the courthouse and found an application for a young man to reach his majority and I made a replica for Robert.”

“You created the legal papers?” He was impressed.

“Yes, and I purposely made the hand barely legible.”

“But still,” John argued, “even if you smudged the papers, no one looking at a twelve-year-old boy could think he was full grown.”

“True. That is why we stole the judge’s spectacles the night before the hearing.” Kate grinned.

John laughed. “Incredible! This is much better than my novel, I must say.”

Kate made a guilty sort of chortle he had never heard from her before. “I confess, we even drew on something of a mustache for Robert before we went before the judge. Fortunately, Dare has always been tall for his age. It all seems quite fantastic now, but it did work. The judge must have assumed Robert to be close to being of age and issued a ruling giving him majority. The first thing we did was to change bank accounts. We hired a new steward and gave him instructions to sell off anything we could to pay off debts, which were indeed substantial. A land agent was engaged to take over the management of the house. Until yesterday, we had never returned.”

It all explained so much. Her generous gift to release the residents of Fleet prison. The desperate clinging to every farthing. The general distrust of people. The isolation and betrayal she had endured certainly did not make for an inviting personality. Still, she had a warm heart and was fiercely loyal to those she loved.

But would she ever love him?

“We realized that even with strict economy, it would take a while before we had even two farthings to rub together,” Kate continued her story. “We also were desirous to leave London, and returning to Greystone was not an option. In the end, there are only a few occupations open to a gentleman of Robert’s age and position.”

“He joined the navy,” said Wynbrook. It was all starting to make sense.

“Yes. Our tutor was brought on board the ship to instruct the young gentlemen.”

“But what did you do? Did you return to school?”

“I would have liked to, but we had not the funds, and we still did not know what had happened or who had gone out of their way to cause us such pain. Perhaps it was cowardly, but I feared remaining in England by myself without Robert there, and besides, where was I to go?”

“That is sensible. I would not have allowed my sisters to go off to school in a similar situation. Who knows what could’ve happened to you alone and unprotected?”

“Yes. But I fear that there were very few options open to us, and I am certain we chose one you would never have done for your sisters.”

“What did you do?” he asked softly, almost fearing the answer. This was no doubt why Kate felt she could not ever marry him.

Kate shook her head. “It is too terrible.”

“It is your story, your past, and so whatever it is, we can face it together.”

The doubt in her eyes was clear. “I hope you mean that.”

He hoped he did too.