If the Earl Only Knew (The Daring Marriages) (9 page)

“It is not your fault. He appeared to be charming, at least when he wished to be, and Jane seemed quite taken with him.”

“Yes, I think I was swayed by her affection. She seemed happy, his estate is an old one, and his family name is well-known. Unfortunately, I did not look closely enough at the man himself.”

“It is maddening for us to blame ourselves. Perhaps we
should
lay the blame squarely with Sir Richard.”

Wynbrook lifted his glass to her. “I can drink to that.”

Kate felt the interview had gone as well as could be expected. She wished to say something about that night six years ago, but she could not figure out how to broach the subject. It was best to let it alone and run away.

“I shall seek my bed now.” Kate stood up, ready to take flight but unable to move. Had she mentioned her bed? To him? Was he thinking what she was thinking, or was she the only wanton in the room?

Wynbrook stood slowly before her. “I bid you a good night and a pleasant evening.” His voice was low and seductive, his green eyes bright with intensity.

Kate’s feet finally began to move, but it was toward him, not away. She drew close before she could realize what she was doing. Now what was she to do? She must look a fool.

She gave a small curtsy to cover her mistake, and much to her surprise, he returned with a bow and caught her hand, pressing a lingering kiss on the back of her hand. He remained close, too close, and she feared he could hear her heart pound. He leaned in, and memories of their kiss surged through her mind. She tilted her face up, both of them waiting for the other. A cloud flickered across his eyes and he stepped back.

“Good night, Kate.”

“Good night, John.”

Kate spun and flew from the room, cognizant that they had crossed a threshold. Something between them had begun.

It had taken Lady Katherine less than forty-eight hours to utterly disrupt Wynbrook’s well-ordered life. In the brief time since he’d met her again, his polished reserve had been shattered, Jane’s engagement had been dissolved, and he had witnessed his affable brother threaten a man with a cutlass.

Wynbrook admitted this was not entirely Kate’s fault. But certainly none of it ever would have happened had she not come to stay. Kate was a puzzle to him. He generally knew what to do with ladies but she defied every convention. She resisted pleasant overtures and repulsed flirtation even while flaunting societal rules by conversing with him alone at night in his study.

He could hardly pass her in the hall without being graced with a scowl. She seemed permanently irritated with him, and yet there had been a moment in the study the other night when only the alarm bells of self-preservation had prevented him from trying to move in for a kiss. Again.

If Kate remembered their kiss, she certainly gave no indication. Far from the practiced flirtation he was accustomed to, she challenged him, rebuffed him, and nothing intrigued him more. Despite her barbed conversation, often at his expense, he was never more amused than when in her company. If nothing else, she certainly kept him on his toes. He only wished he knew whether behind her frequent rebuffs lay true affection or abhorrence.

Wynbrook accepted a freshly ironed newspaper from the footman, who was acting in the role of the butler while they were in Town. Wynbrook strolled into the drawing room only to find Kate, who greeted him with her customary scowl. At least she had thrown off the black and agreed to wear white, though it was hardly of the latest fashion, and her hair was pulled back in a severe twist. She was seated at one end of the room, before the card table, ledgers spread before her.

Wynbrook approached, wondering if she had once again invaded his privacy and corrected his math errors. Why had she gone to his study the other night? Was she so addicted to accounting she could not help herself? She must have wanted to be caught by him, but why? Did she remember their kisses as often as he?

“They are mine!” she defended as he approached.

“I should hope so.”

Another scowl.

He was wondering what to say next when Jane wandered into the room. Since he was saved from the awkward situation and it was the first time Jane had managed to leave her room in two days, he was doubly pleased.

“Jane!” he exclaimed. “Good to see you.”

Jane did not look the better for her self-imposed isolation. Her red, swollen eyes were evidence of days spent crying. Wynbrook’s hands clenched. Not for the first time, he wished bodily harm on Sir Richard. Though Sir Richard was a cad and a lout, the loss of the engagement had clearly touched Jane’s heart and her grief was real. Jane was miserable. Wynbrook was also miserable, witnessing her grief at the hands of the worthless Sir Richard.

Worse yet, her engagement had been greatly publicized. Everyone knew she had been about to marry Sir Richard. Anne had quietly circulated the story that the engagement had been dissolved on mutual terms. Talk had begun and everyone noted that Sir Richard had taken an impromptu trip away from London. Wynbrook had paid him enough to get him to leave London; whether it was enough to get him to stay away was another matter.

“Would you like some tea?” asked Kate, though as the hostess, it should have been Jane’s place to offer.

Jane shrugged a shoulder and slumped in a chair, the very picture of misery. No one objected when Kate called for tea.

“Would you like to go for a ride today?” asked Wynbrook, trying to divert Jane’s attention.

“No, thank you.”

“Perhaps a book?” asked Kate.

“No, thank you.”

“I know. We can go to the theatre tonight,” tempted Wynbrook.

“No, thank you.”

“Oh, for the love of Saint Christopher, Sir Richard was a lout and a few other things I shan’t say, since it may shock your brother. You ought not let the man affect you so,” cried Kate.

Jane blinked and stared at Kate as if she were seeing her for the first time. She shook her head. “I am not upset that the engagement with Sir Richard is dissolved. He was utterly beneath my notice.”

“Then what has upset you?” asked Wynbrook, confused.

“I am grieving the loss of the dream I had. It was naive. I see that now. I thought I couldn’t find happiness with a boy I knew from childhood, someone like Sir Gareth. Did I ever tell you he wished to marry me years ago? I discouraged him because I thought love could only be found in someone new, someone dashing, someone exciting. I was such a fool.”

“The only fool here is Sir Richard,” said Kate with disgust.

Wynbrook agreed wholeheartedly, but it had little effect on Jane.

“I told Ellen I would come down for a few minutes, which I have. So now I’m going back upstairs.” Jane was the picture of listless misery.

Wynbrook watched helplessly as Jane retired from the room.

“I can think of several ways to kill Sir Richard and make it look like an accident,” muttered Kate.

“I know where we can hide the body where no one will ever find it,” returned Wynbrook.

“Good to know.”

“And I would like to know what words you thought might shock me.”

Wynbrook exchanged a smirk with Kate. Their mutual dislike of Sir Richard was the one thing they agreed on, though he doubted murder was the best way to begin a courtship.

If he was interested in courting her.

Which he wasn’t.

Definitely not.

“Lady Durant,” intoned the footman at the door of the sitting room, doing his best impression of their stalwart butler.

Anne swept into the room, majestic as always. “Yes, yes, no need to introduce me. I think they should know their own sister.”

Wynbrook was grateful for a diversion. “Anne. Good to see you.”

Anne had been outraged at the situation with Jane, and they had spent many hours discussing what could be done to salvage poor Jane’s reputation, but so far no one had been able to divine a solution. Today, however, Anne was in brighter spirits.

“You look well pleased,” commented Wynbrook.

“I have a solution for poor Jane,” she said in triumph. “Oh, good, tea has arrived.”

The tea service was set, and the three of them sat down at a round table.

“Well, Anne?” queried John, teacup in hand. “If you found a solution for poor Jane, please do not keep it to yourself.”

“I’ve just come from a conversation with the Dowager Duchess of Marchford,” said Anne with the air of one sharing a great secret. “She knows an exclusive matchmaker who can help us. Apparently, this Madam X has helped other similar cases. You remember the Miss Talbot affair?”

Wynbrook shook his head. “I do not recall any such scandal.”

“That’s because she married Mr. Grant and it was all hushed up nicely,” said Anne triumphantly. “Hopefully, Madam X will be able to do the same for our poor Jane.”

“But what will this matchmaker do for poor Jane?” asked Kate, glaring at Wynbrook as if the situation were entirely his fault.

“You must realize the only way for Jane to save her reputation and her standing in society is to be married at once,” said Anne, choosing a scone from the platter.

“But why must Jane have to find another fiancé?” asked Kate. “And why this concern about her reputation? She found her fiancé wanting and tossed him aside. She did nothing wrong. Why should her standing in society be in jeopardy? I do not see why this should be a tragedy for her.”

John exchanged a silent but meaningful look with Anne, trying to figure out which of them would be better able to explain to Kate the workings of society. For one so clearly bright, she had little knowledge of the
haut ton
.

“It may not be fair, but Sir Richard has the law on his side. Under English law, Sir Richard can sue for breach of contract. His philandering is not considered just cause to break it off,” explained Anne.

“It should be,” grumbled Kate.

“I am sure it is quite unfair, now that I think of it,” John said with a shrug.

“Society is cruel to women. They always take the brunt of it, which is entirely unfair.” Kate’s silver eyes flashed dangerously. She was ready to charge into battle. “I blame men.”

The Earl of Wynbrook was not known as a coward, but neither was he a fool. Having three sisters, he knew when to agree with the womenfolk. “Quite so, quite so. Agree with everything. Good news, Anne, good news.”

“I am glad you approve, for you need to speak to the Duchess of Marchford and sort out the details. These things are dearly done, I fear.”

“Of course. Glad to be of service,” said Wynbrook gallantly, hoping his generosity would not be overly taxed but resigned to pay whatever amount was requested.

“Good, it is settled then. I only hope this matchmaker can find a replacement groom before Jane’s reputation is utterly ruined.”

“I still do not see why that should be,” demanded Kate.

“Ta-ta, good day.” Anne left in a swirl of silk, leaving John to answer the question.

Kate crossed her arms and pinned Wynbrook with a singular look from her silver eyes. She could be an imposing figure.

He cleared his throat. “Let me begin with the caveat that I agree this is wretchedly unfair.” He waited for her to concede the point, for while he did not mind crossing swords with Kate, he wished it to be for a better reason than the capriciousness of society.

Kate gave a reluctant nod.

“If an engagement is dissolved, it can lead to disagreeable rumors that the lady was found wanting,” explained Wynbrook.

“But that is unfair!”

“Indeed. Engagements are almost as difficult as marriages to dissolve. Fortunately, we had not yet signed the marriage contract; if we had, it would have been even more difficult.”

“True.” Kate sighed.

“You are familiar with marital law?”

“Yes, of course. No lady should enter marriage without a good lawyer.”

John thought she may be jesting, but Kate’s face was deadly serious.

“The marriage contract ensures that the lady has some protection; otherwise, all assets she brings to the marriage belong to her husband,” continued Kate in a businesslike manner. “For example, a contract might stipulate the lady’s dowry must be held in trust until any children arising from the marriage have gained majority. The marriage contract may also stipulate how much per annum she would be granted in case of her husband’s death. Without a contract, a lady enters into the marriage quite unprotected.”

“Precisely. If the contract had been signed, we would have had to go to court to have the thing undone. It would have been a nightmare of a scandal, and Sir Richard may have walked away with much of her dowry, for the court would not see his infidelity as reason to sever the contract.”

Kate shook her head. “Of course, if it had been Sir Richard who had found Jane to be unfaithful prior to their nuptials…”

Wynbrook shook his head. “That would be a different matter entirely. I agree—these things are not fair.”

“A woman should never feel trapped into marriage,” Kate challenged.

“Of course not,” Wynbrook agreed, though he wondered if she was still speaking of his sister.

“In truth, I do not see why any lady would wish to enter the marital state at all, since it seems only to her detriment. A lady is an equal to a gentleman in every respect, save for sometimes they have more sense.”

Wynbrook was spared the trouble of responding by the timely entrance of Tristan and Robert, whom he had never been more grateful to see.

“Come, join me and my bluestocking friend for tea,” John announced with the wide smile of a man who’d escaped the executioner.

Tristan and Robert joined them, and Robert helped himself to a liberal number of scones. Tristan, for his part, was positively giddy.

“What kind of waistcoat are you wearing?” Kate asked Tristan, surprising everyone at the table by commenting on fashion. Wynbrook took a glance and was shocked himself at what he saw. The waistcoat was made of simple homespun fabric.

“The latest fashion!” declared Tristan with a grin. “Gave up trying to make you and Dare fashionable by putting you in decent clothing. Decided instead to make homespun the newest thing.”

Kate stared at him. “You can do that?”

“You watch me.” Tristan grinned at her like a cat with a mouse under its paw. “And I spread the word that Sir Richard’s cravat, which I never did like, is an abysmal failure. I now call any fashion flop a ‘Sir Richard’!”

* * *

“Wynbrook House. Why did it have to be Wynbrook House?” muttered Silas Bones, his feet freezing in the slush of the London streets. He was careful to remain in the shadows outside of light cast by the gaslight.

“Don’t like the house, Cap’n?” asked his second, a wiry man with a stocking cap pulled low over his brow.

“Went to Eaton with John Arlington, and now look at me, trying to break into his house. There’s irony for you,” said Silas in the urbane tone of a London gentleman. It would have been more effective had he not been casing a house to rob it.

“So you want we should leave?” asked the man in a hopeful tone. He would not complain to return to the warmth of the local pub.

“No. It just makes it harder is all. Darington has gotten rich off of me, and I must reclaim it.” The shame of being forced to steal from the home of an old schoolmate was utterly Darington’s fault. The man had taken not only his fortune, but his self-respect as well…and for that, Darington would pay.

“Watch the house while I get the others,” Silas commanded. “I want to know when they come and when they go. I cannot afford to be seen.”

“B-but it’s cold out here!” complained the thin man.

Silas turned slowly back to the man and glared at him, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

The man changed his tune. “Watch the house. Aye, Captain.”

Silas stalked away, his anger growing with every frozen step. This was all Darington’s fault. Whatever it took, Darington’s riches would be his.