If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages) (3 page)

“But why?” cried Tristan. “If we have made a fortune, you both must be richer than Croesus.”

“We prefer to leave some monies in reserve,” said Kate vaguely. “Besides, life is uncertain. One must always be prepared to take care of oneself.”

“Monies in reserve?” Tristan was clearly unfamiliar with the concept. “This is nonsense. You must come stay with us!”

Wynbrook started at his brother’s rash offer. Kate stay with him under the same roof? Unthinkable! If he had any consolation, it was that Kate appeared as alarmed as he felt.

“Oh no,” she said quickly. “We could not impose.”

“No imposition at all,” Tristan went on merrily. “You must come stay and then accompany us to the country for Jane’s wedding! Did you get my most recent letter? Our sister has finally found a groom-to-be!” Tristan continued to talk excitedly to Darington. Wynbrook guessed that was why the two became friends at university—Darington rarely spoke and Tristan never stopped.

“It would be quite impossible for us to stay with you,” said Kate to anyone who would listen.

“Cap’n!” A young lad banged open the door and ran into the room, followed by three bank employees.

“Sorry, my lords. We will remove him shortly,” called out one of the employees, trying unsuccessfully to grab the lad.

“Leave off,” commanded Darington. “This lad is in my employ.”

“They need ye quick, Cap’n. Someone’s broke into your quarters on the
Lady Kate
!” the boy gasped, his hands on his knees. “Hoofed it all the way here to tell ye.”

“What about the men on duty?” asked Dare.

“Knocked clean out. Most o’ the men on shore leave. Don’t know what they took. Found the guard and saw the door busted open and ran here to tell ye. They might still be there for all I know.” The lad was still gasping for breath.

“Good lad.” Darington handed the boy a coin. “Forgive me. Must leave.” He gave Wynbrook and Tristan a quick nod and walked out of the room, Kate following along behind.

“Yes, of course,” said Wynbrook. He and Tristan followed them down the hall and out into the large main room of the bank.

“I’ll have to rent a hack. My carriage will never make it in time.” Dare gave Kate a dark look.

“I’ll run you down to the docks in my racing curricle—nothing faster!” declared Tristan. “John and I came down in it this morning, though it only sits two.” He glanced at Wynbrook and Kate.

“I will drive Lady Kate back to their lodgings in their carriage and will take a hack back home,” offered Wynbrook.

“No!” Kate said at something of a shout, causing bank patrons to turn their heads. “No,” she repeated in a softer tone, ignoring the stares of those around them. “I can take the carriage back myself. Besides, I have an appointment I cannot miss.”

“I would be happy to squire you to your appointment,” said Wynbrook gallantly, since it was required. He had endured many trips to the milliner with his sisters; he could do it once more.

“I assure you that will not be necessary,” Kate said, trying to quell his offer.

“Oh, but it is,” said Tristan brightly. “Can’t jaunt around London by yourself. Not done. Not done by half.”

Darington paused by the front door of the bank. “Let Wynbrook take you,” Dare said to Kate.

“But the errand?” A crease appeared between her eyes.

“I would be happy to oblige,” said Wynbrook, wondering a bit at his eagerness. He wished to not have dealings with Lady Kate, but he could not leave her stranded when it was in his power to assist. That would be shabby in the extreme.

Dare handed Kate a large stack of papers and ledgers. “Let him help.”

Before Kate could protest further, Dare and Tristan disappeared out the door and were gone.

“Allow me,” said Wynbrook, reaching for the large books, but Kate held them fast.

“I am fine,” she grumbled.

Wynbrook gave Kate a tight smile and motioned for her to precede him out the door held open by a footman. He had wanted to avoid Kate at all costs, and now he was obliged to squire her hither and yon. It was going to make for an interesting day.

Kate walked down the street and stopped before something that looked like a broken-down hay wagon.

“What is that?” he asked, dread creeping down his spine.

“Our carriage.”

“Oh. No.”
Interesting
had just taken a turn for the worse.

Three for a girl

“No. No, no, no, no. Nooooooo, no, no.” Wynbrook shook his head. He could not be seen riding through Town in such a contraption. It was unthinkable.

Kate raised an eyebrow. “It is hardly as bad as that,” she said, surveying the broken-down carriage and the poor beast that was pulling it.

“You are right. It’s worse than that. But I must refrain from saying what I truly think because I am in the presence of a lady.”

“Don’t let that stop you.” She was glaring at him now. Somehow it did nothing to diminish the attraction of her silver eyes.

“I do not suppose I could convince you to abandon this…this conveyance and take some other mode of transportation. A hack? A hobbyhorse? A wheelbarrow?” A man could hope.

“Good day, Lord Wynbrook.” Though her face registered no emotion, her eyes snapped with annoyance. Kate placed her books, papers, and ledgers on the front seat and climbed adroitly up into the open carriage.

“Hold there. I have agreed to squire you about Town and so I shall.” Wynbrook hoisted himself up beside her on the front carriage seat and attempted to take the reins from her hands, but she held fast.

“Lord Wynbrook, there is no need to accompany me. I know you do not want to be here, and I assure you where I am going you do not wish to go. I will wish you a good day.”

“I promised your brother I would assist you and so I fear you are stuck with me.” The more she tried to get rid of him, the more determined he was to stay.

She turned her steely eyes to him, her glare as sharp as a knife. “I believe in speaking plainly. I know how much you dislike my brother and myself. I confess I overheard you speaking quite candidly to your brother regarding your feelings about us the last time we were in London.”

It took Wynbrook a moment to recall the conversation. In a flash, he remembered every cutting remark and was instantly ashamed of his conduct. Tristan had been right to call him an arrogant arse. There had been a time when he thought himself better than his company and utterly invincible. How quickly things had changed.

Of course, that day was not the last interaction he had shared with Lady Kate. Was she going to list their other encounter as more evidence of his crimes against her? He waited for her to continue and was met with a glare for his trouble. Were they supposed to pretend their rendezvous that night five years ago never happened? More stony silence.

Apparently so.

Wynbrook took a deep breath of the cold, damp December air. He hated apologizing, mostly because he hated the thought that his conduct was less than honorable, but in this case, an expression of regret to Lady Katherine was owed. “Please allow me to apologize for my conduct when I was young and dunderheaded. I most humbly ask your forgiveness for that day and anything else that I may have done or said that has given you offense.” There, that was a blanket apology for all his misdeeds, spoken and unspoken. He should be covered now.

“If I offer absolution, will you leave me alone?” she grumbled.

“I fear nothing can release you from the obvious displeasure of having me drive you to your errand and then safely back home. I will, however, promise never to burden you with my presence in the future.”

“As you wish.” She sighed, accepting defeat by handing over the reins. “Remember, I warned you.”

With that grim rejoinder, they were off. “C’mon there,” coaxed Wynbrook, trying to increase the speed of the old, gray horse to something of a relaxed amble.

“Pickles,” said Kate.

Wynbrook turned to Kate in confusion.

“The horse’s name is Pickles,” she clarified.

Of course it was. “C’mon there…Pickles.” If he was to be humiliated, it might as well be done in grand style.

Kate stared straight ahead, clinging to her books like a shield, her back as straight as a sword. If she noticed the looks of shock and surprise from the passing carriages, she gave no indication. Wynbrook had hoped to travel the London streets without seeing anyone he knew, but instead he passed many of the elite in high society with him sitting on the driver’s box of a ramshackle delivery wagon.

He greeted Mr. and Mrs. Grant, the Duke of Marchford, the Duke of Clarence, and Lord Devine with his niece, the young Miss Frances, slack jawed, her face pressed against the glass of the carriage. Wynbrook waved and smiled.

“Oh, my poor reputation,” he bemoaned. It earned him a glare from the ill-tempered Kate. She continued to provide him directions, leading not toward a modiste but toward the poorer part of Town. Where could she be going?

They rolled down the London streets, the dense, coal-smoke-infused haze swirling around them. They turned down Farringdon Street and Kate told Wynbrook to pull up outside of a tall stone wall. Barred windows were built into the wall from which people called out, piteously begging for alms.

“This is Fleet Debtors’ Prison,” said Wynbrook. He did not like to hear the laments of the poor and was truly confused as to why Kate would bring them to such a place.

“Yes.” Everything about the already-rigid Lady Katherine had grown tighter. “Understand, Robert and I have an appointment here, which I cannot miss.”

“What business could you possibly have with a debtors’ prison?”

“You may stay here with the cart,” said Kate, not answering his question.

Wynbrook raised an eyebrow. “First, you must think quite poorly of me to believe I would send you into Fleet alone, and second, I am gratified that you have properly defined this conveyance. It is a cart.”

“Which might be stolen if no one stays with it.” Kate struggled to get down from the cart with her arms full of papers.

Wynbrook jumped down and assisted her, putting his hands around her small waist to lift her easily to the ground. His hands lingered on her waist for a second longer than was absolutely necessary; for some reason, he did not want to let go. A flash of attraction surged through him, as powerful as it was unwanted. He snatched his hands away and held out his arms to offer to carry her books as if that had been his plan all along.

“I doubt even thieves would be interested in that gig,” commented Wynbrook. “Here now.” He tossed a coin to a heavily mufflered lad. “Watch this nag for me and there will be another farthing for you if it is still here when I return. I’ll give you a half crown if you can sell it for more than a pound.”

“It is not yours to sell!” cried Kate.

“Do not distress yourself. It is not worth more than a few shillings. But why are we here?” Behind his cheery bluster, Wynbrook was dismayed at her destination and could think of no reason why she would be there.

“I have business here.” She walked to the arch in the stone wall and paid a coin to the turnkey. Wynbrook followed her through the gates to the large courtyard of the prison, surrounded by imposing stone walls five stories high.

“What business?” asked Wynbrook softly.

Again she did not answer but crossed the courtyard quickly, her boots crunching on the frozen ground. She climbed the few stairs to the main door and paused. Her breath came shallow and quick, and she put a hand on the wall to steady herself. Whatever this place was to her, it clearly affected her deeply.

He put a hand on her shoulder, afraid she might faint like some ladies were known to do when distressed.

“No!” she gasped and jumped away, her eyes wide with fear.

“Are you unwell?” asked Wynbrook. Despite the awkwardness between them, he felt an immediate urge to protect her. He did not know what business she had here, but he would see it done.

She blinked and the emotion drained from her face. She cleared her throat and straightened her already-straight bonnet. “I am fine. Do let us continue.”

“You can wait in the carriage, if you wish, and I can see to whatever business you have,” offered Wynbrook. Considering her reaction, he guessed she must know someone locked in one of these cells.

“Kind of you to call it a carriage,” murmured Kate.

“You looked beset. Thought you might faint if I told you what I really thought of it.” The remark earned him a twitch of her tight lips.

They walked through the door to the spare reception area. The smell of mold, filth, and human misery was overpowering.

“We have an appointment with the warden,” said Kate.

“What fer?” asked a bony man behind a desk, hardly bothering to look up over his racing form.

“That is my concern and not yours,” answered Kate.

“Well, I see who comes and who goes and who sees who. So ifs ye want to see anyone, ye better tell me what fer.”

“We have come to show payment of debt and obtain release for some of your residents,” Kate replied in a tight, clipped tone.

Wynbrook was right; she must wish to release someone known to her.

“Put the paper here,” droned the man and went back to his racing schedule.

Kate dropped the stack of papers down on his desk with a thud. The guard stared. Wynbrook stared.

The guard looked up in surprise. “What’s all this, now?”

“The release papers,” said Kate.

“B-but how many debts ha’ ye done paid?”

“We have paid the debts of every child living in Fleet and their families,” said Kate with authority.

Wynbrook’s jaw went slack. He couldn’t help it. What was she doing?

“I’m going to need to get the warden, I am,” hedged the guard.

“Indeed. Step to it then,” said Wynbrook in a commanding tone, deciding it was his turn to enter the conversation.

The man scuttled off directly.

“All the children?” asked Wynbrook. He was still reeling.

“And their families,” added Kate.

“It must have been very costly.”

“It was,” agreed Kate.

Wynbrook liked to think of himself as a generous man, but this was beyond anything he had ever considered. Why would she do such a thing? “Do you know any of these children?”

“No. But no child should be in jail because of the poverty of their parents.”

“Indeed.”

“You got no right to pay all these here debts.” The warden, a large man whose head rested on multiple chins, waddled his bulk toward them.

“And you have no right to charge rent and ridiculous fees to the poor souls who are forced to live here. You care not for the repayment of debt. You only wish to secure your own profit by stealing from the poor and vulnerable.” Kate flushed with more emotion than Wynbrook had ever seen on her face.

“You know nothing of it!” The warden’s face turned florid. “I will have to look into each one of these releases. Will take time.”

“But we have court orders for their release!” cried Kate, her distress clear.

“Don’t care what you think you got. Take time, it will.” The warden crossed his meaty arms across his chest.

“Excellent. That will allow us time to process the claims against you,” said Wynbrook, stepping forward into the fray.

“Wh-what do you mean?” asked the warden, taking careful note of Wynbrook’s attire and changing his tone to be more deferential.

It was clear the warden had sized up Kate to be someone he could bully. The man changed his tune in the face of Wynbrook’s multiple-caped riding coat. Wynbrook knew that people showed preference to members of society’s elite, but it had never before bothered him as it did now. “Yes, we are looking into abuses of your office and the embezzlement of funds. I should not be surprised if you were required to pay back every false fine you have ever collected.”

“You can’t do that.” The wide eyes of the warden were no longer confident.

“Do you doubt my ability to gain an audience with the Lord Mayor? I imagine paying back your ill-gotten gains would be quite a hefty sum. Would it not be ironic if you yourself ended up in the same prison you once administered?” Wynbrook tugged at his cuffs nonchalantly. He glanced up at Kate and her eyes shone, a small smile on her lips. It was his turn to catch his breath. The rare smile from Lady Kate was worth the trouble of earning it.

The warden opened and closed his mouth twice in horror. The debts were acknowledged paid.

Wynbrook and Kate retreated back to the cart, which, much to his disappointment, was still there.

“Thank you,” she said with a soft glow in her eyes. It was the first time that day she had looked at him without a glare. It was strange, his reaction to that look. Maybe it was her light eyes or the memory of something that had passed between them, but tingles shot through him. His reaction was akin to a schoolboy’s, which was odd in the extreme, since he was not unaccustomed to female company.

Though he was not one to brag about his exploits, he had been connected with some of the most renowned beauties, all with soft, round bodies and warm, alluring faces. Kate was nothing like them, all angles and edges, both in form and temperament. And yet she was the one he could never forget.

“I have done nothing. You deserve all the credit. I am astounded at your generosity.” He was truly impressed. “Will you tell me why you did this?”

“For this,” she said with a simple gesture. Families began to emerge, bewildered, from the prison, smiling, laughing, crying. It was a touching scene.

“Do they know to whom they are indebted?” he asked.

“No.”

“But why—”

“Robert and I believe in giving charity. That is all.”

That was clearly not all. Wynbrook clicked to Pickles, and they began to amble back down the street. One thing was evident—Wynbrook did not know the lady sitting next to him. Not in the least. Despite his initial intent to stay as far away from her as possible, he now was drawn to the mystery of Lady Katherine Ashton.

“Lady Kate, I want you to know I admire greatly what you have done.”

Kate clutched the ledgers and logbooks close to her chest. “Turn left here, Lord Wynbrook. I appreciate your assistance, but I will remind you of our agreement.”

“Our agreement?” His question was met with the return of the glare from Lady Kate. “Oh, yes, of course.” He had agreed never to see her again. Wynbrook squinted into the stinging, cold sleet.

Just when it was getting truly interesting, time had run out on his audience with the enigmatic Kate Ashton.