Kasey Michaels - [Redgraves 02] (8 page)

“I was being facetious?” he suggested, tongue-in-cheek.

“You are now. Very well, pretend I didn’t mention it.”

She hadn’t made a single move to dismount in the short (very short) second Simon took to realize only an idiot would not hold out his hand for a ripe plum poised to fall into it.

He put up his arms as she disengaged her leg from the pommel, and she allowed him to touch her. “My hands spanning that narrow waist,” he said, from memory, even as he marveled at the smallness of that waist above wonderfully flaring hips. “Drawing you closer as I slowly lower you to the ground,” he continued, and then following his words with action.

She had her hands on his shoulders now, presumably for balance. Her eyes shone with mischief even as her breasts rose and fell with each quick, shallow breath. “What was next? Oh, yes. A chance for an accidental brushing together of bodies. You mean like this?”

Their bodies were touching now, as he eased her feet toward the grass. She was looking up at him, her full wide mouth a whisper away.

She had no idea what she was doing to him. Or perhaps she did.

“Yes, precisely like this. And then, as naturally follows, I steal a kiss.”

She was gone so quickly he barely had time to realize the way she bent her knees, pulling down and out of his light grasp on her waist. In a heartbeat, she was standing a good five feet away from him. She had her arms crossed tightly beneath her breasts, and she was still breathing rather hard.

“Very neatly done, Kate. You do this often?”

Her cheeks had gone faintly pink, but Simon didn’t believe the flush was in anger. “No, I most certainly do not. You shouldn’t ask questions like that.”

“No? Well, then, how about this one? How many men have kissed you, Lady Katherine?”

There went the chin again, aiming for the sky. “That’s absolutely none of your concern. But if you must know, several. A lot.
Dozens.
”

He began advancing on her, slowly. “Then one more certainly shouldn’t matter, should it?”

She was backing up now, still with her arms hugged tight round her body, as if she might fly apart if she let go. “Perhaps not dozens.”

He took another step forward. She was backing straight toward a wide tree trunk that would halt her retreat, not that he was about to point that out to her. “Perhaps not even a lot? Shall we agree to settle on a
few?
”

Kate’s mouth must have gone dry, because she was clearly working her tongue around the inside of her mouth, even employing the tip to moisten her lips. “Maybe...maybe not anyone.”

All right, now she’d shocked him.

“And you’re how old?”

Finally she dropped her arms to her sides. “What does my age have to do with anything?”

“I’m not sure, but it seems at least minimally important. No one? Ever?”

Kate rolled her eyes as if weary of discussing the subject with someone so incredibly
thick.
“I’ve never seen the need, is that so difficult to understand? My brothers bring home stultifyingly boring men, most of them married and the rest of them silly—those last would be Val’s friends. There’s no one within miles of Redgrave Manor who would dare, again, thanks to my brothers. And I wasn’t in London last year long enough to meet anyone who possessed a brain larger than any of the peas Adam insists on playing with at the table. There, are you happy now?”

“I’m not certain. Never seen the need? Really?”

“Really.” But as soon as she said the word she turned her head away from him, as if not willing to maintain eye contact.

And hope springs eternal in my shameful breast,
Simon told himself as he followed her into the trees, the boulder-strewn ground also dappled with shafts of sunlight filtering through the leafy branches. He imagined the boulders had been those dug up when the land was first plowed, and had been dragged here, out of the way. But why was “here” created? The rocks could just as easily have been lined up along one of the hedgerows. Why was this area left intact?

“Very pretty spot,” he commented, looking up at the dusty rays of sunlight as he walked, and then tripped over something solid and found himself sprawled on a thick carpet of damp, moldy leaves. He quickly turned himself about so that he was in a sitting position, hoping that looked better than shamefully leaping to his feet. “Well, wasn’t that graceful of me? Care to join me?”

“I think not,” Kate said dryly. “But, while you’re down there, say hello to Torr Gribbon.”

Simon had belatedly taken out his handkerchief, and was wiping at his palms. “I beg your pardon?”

“You should probably ask that of Mr. Gribbon. Considering you’re sitting on the man.”

All right, so she’d managed to get him leaping to his feet, popping up like some inane jack-in-the-box. He looked down at the ground and saw the small tombstone he’d stubbed with the toe of his boot. Sure enough, the name Torr Gribbon was chiseled into it, along with two dates he couldn’t quite make out thanks to the long grass.

Then he noticed the other graves. Six of them.

“You did say we were going from one graveyard to another, didn’t you?”

“Mr. Gribbon owned what we now call the West Run,” she explained as she walked over to a nearby boulder and boosted herself up onto it. She pointed to her left. “His house and stables supposedly were somewhere close to this spot, but the house burned one night, and the family all perished. My grandfather bought up the land immediately from some distant cousin who didn’t want it. Grandfather termed it a present to his wife for having presented him with a healthy son only a few days prior to the tragedy.”

“He deeded it to her?”

“Hardly. There’s nothing that isn’t entailed with the estate. It was a symbolic gesture only. But as the destroyed buildings were being razed, Trixie begged my grandfather not to disturb the graves. She’d been bosom chums with Alice Gribbon. In fact, it was Mrs. Gribbon who delivered Trixie of my father when the local doctor didn’t arrive in time. Those few days later, the woman was dead, and my grandmother couldn’t even attend the burial because she was very ill. In fact, she would never bear another child, the doctor warned her, and if she did conceive she’d never survive another childbed. Just a terribly sad story, all the way around.”

“Indeed. A compounded tragedy.”
Especially for an ambitious man who undoubtedly felt the need for more than one son.
Simon was beginning to form another theory.

Kate nodded her agreement to his agreement. “Trixie told me all about what happened one day when I announced I was going to ride in the West Run. She asked me to check on the stones to make certain they were still in good repair, as she no longer rode herself. I need to send Liam out here with the scythe again, don’t I? There are other, older graves, as well, hidden in the grass and leaves.”

“The dowager countess concerns herself about the state of these graves, yet never visits the family mausoleum? Does that seem in the least strange to you, Kate?”

“No. Why should it?” But yet again she averted her eyes. “I’d like to go back now. Dearborn will be fretting over the platters, worrying about the food all growing cold on the sideboard. He always expects me back by nine when I take an early ride. Not that he’ll say anything, but he does have this way of speaking with his eyes.” She hopped down from the boulder. “Shall we? I mean, unless you want to continue your ride. It’s not as if it’s a rule even guests be in the morning room by ten.”

She rolled her eyes and rather huffed out an exasperated sigh. “I’m babbling, aren’t I? I didn’t think I was the sort who babbled.”

Simon approached her, taking her hands in his before she could turn away. She was too intelligent not to wonder, not to see the facts as they may have been. She was also vulnerable at the moment, and might not be again. He had to say what he was thinking. “The doctor, Kate. Did he suffer a fatal tragedy soon after, as well?”

“I—I never inquired.” She attempted to pull her hands free of his. “I never should have told you anything.”

“Yet you’ve thought about it, haven’t you? Thought about it, supposed about it. Your grandfather must have been incredibly angry at the unexpected turn of events, don’t you think? But you didn’t want to upset your brothers with what you now suspect, so they don’t know what Trixie told you that day. I’m a stranger, easier to confide in, aren’t I? How long have you been worrying about this? Ever since your grandmother told you about these people, or did it all only begin to make some macabre sense in these past weeks, when everything changed, when your sainted grandfather and murdered father were exposed as past leaders of the Society?”

Her eyes went wide. “You’re wrong. I’ve never sus— I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And if I suggested we share your thoughts with Valentine?”

“Why? You’re the one saying these horrible things, not me.” Again she tugged at his hands, but Simon held fast. “Let me go.”

“Horrible, yes, but logical, once we understand the man. They’d have to be punished, wouldn’t they? For nearly losing his wife and son, for robbing him of the chance for more sons. And then there was the happy coincidence of being able to step in and purchase this lovely land we’re standing on.”

“You’re a hateful person with an evil mind!”

Was he? Was he seeing conspiracies everywhere now? “I don’t know, Kate. I don’t think so. But I do wonder how long your very young and suddenly barren grandmother would have lived had it not been for your grandfather’s death within a year of Barry’s birth. How did he die, do you know?”

“Stop it, Simon. Just stop it!”

“You understand now, don’t you? You’ve walked the long gallery. You’ve begun to see what everyone else has so far missed. Your grandfather was building himself a small kingdom, wasn’t he? And your father, as well. No matter the cost.”

“I said,
let me go.
You’re here to help find the journals, even if Gideon doesn’t want you here. You’ve no right to say anything about my family.”

Simon held tight. “Then why tell me about Alice Gribbon and this land? Why not tell them? I think I know. You’re afraid to ask your brothers, your grandmother, what you now suspect. Was it easier to say it to me, test my reaction?”

“I love my grandmother,” she said quietly. “I love my brothers. Everything else is yesterday. It has to be.”

“And we’re all going to try our best to keep it that way, including me. But more and more I’m realizing that to understand today, we have to know about yesterday.”

She shook her head. “No. Whoever is using the Society now is doing it for his own reasons. None of us is involved. It’s only the journals they want, those and the supposed bible.”

“In case their names were mentioned, at least those who were members before the new leader arrived to take over and called a halt to the journal keeping. More important, we’re all fairly certain Turner Collier disobeyed the order to cease and desist in his position of the Keeper, and continued to update the bible every year. Perhaps he thought he could hold the information over everyone’s heads, that it would keep him safe, instead of being the same as signing his own warrant of execution. Men have done stupider things. Locate the bible, and we could know all the names.”

She stopped tugging against his grip. “Do you want to know what I think, Simon? Before they killed him, Adam’s father told the Society that everything is here, at the Manor, but didn’t divulge the correct location. I know if I had no chance of saving my life I certainly wouldn’t tell such monsters the truth with my last breath, but just enough to be sure they believed me.”

Simon cocked his head to one side, surprised by this statement. “You have put a lot of thought into this, haven’t you?”

“I do realize how important the journals and bible are. They’re also probably hot to find Barry’s so-called plans, hoping to use them, to use some damning information about the members and their invited guests from his time, or their heirs if the members are dead, to use for leverage now, planning to make them dance to the new leader’s tune.”

“Really? All of that?”

And there went the chin, raised in defiance. “Am I right?”

“Anything’s possible. I won’t say you’re wrong.”

“Thank you. And we’ll not mention the Gribbons again, because that was long, long ago, a half century ago. A whole different time, Simon. It has nothing to do with anything. Not anymore.”

He said nothing.

“Simon?”

“Agreed. For the moment. But if I decide what happened is important, I
will
bring the earl and your brothers into it. And the dowager countess.”

“And me?”

“You tell me, Kate. For someone as intelligent as you, as perceptive as you, you also seem to want to cling to the fairy tale. There’s no fairy tale here.”

“No. But there is an ogre,” she declared as he let go of her hands. “At least you don’t lie to me. I thank you for that.”

She really was quite adept at mounting the sidesaddle on her own. What he hadn’t expected was how swiftly she then bent and snatched up Hector’s reins before turning both the horses, the stallion making no protest as he happily followed behind the mare.

It was going to be a long walk back to Redgrave Manor.

Or should he think of it as the
castle?
After all, there was almost a moat....

CHAPTER SIX

K
ATE
PUT
DOWN
her fork. “Stop looking at me that way, Val. He won’t perish from exhaustion or some such thing. I sent Dickie out with the pony cart as soon as I got back.”

“The pony cart. Marvelous.” Val sat in his tipped-back chair, dusting toast crumbs from his neck cloth. “So he’ll only perish of embarrassment. Riding backward on the cart, his boots near to dragging on the ground. Really, Kate, you’re too kind.”

“I know,” she said brightly, digging into her coddled egg yet again. “At times I amaze even myself. But I could hear him laughing as I rode off with Hector. Unless that’s because he was already planning his revenge,” she ended, smiling.

“I don’t care for that smile. So you’re definitely attracted to the man?”

Kate shifted the fork in her hand, so it suddenly more resembled a weapon than a simple silver utensil. Pointing it across the wide table at Valentine (unfortunately still with a bit of egg hanging from it), she said, as if they were still in the nursery, “Take that back this instant, Valentine.”

“Take back what, Kate? I was merely putting forth a supposition. No, only a question. Perhaps with an idle jest tossed in there somewhere. Gauging by your reaction, however, I’d say there’s no longer any question. What first drew you to him? We men are usually at a loss to understand women and how they know they’re attracted, indifferent, or instantly take a man in dislike in the blink of an eye. We poor gentlemen often don’t know our own hearts until we’re figuratively banged over the head with Cupid’s shovel, so anything you could offer would be much appreciated.”

“Sorry, Dearborn,” Kate mumbled as she withdrew the fork so that the butler could make quick work of sliding a knife beneath the fallen bit of egg and neatly lifting it clear of the tablecloth. She often wondered what he thought of Redgrave family conversation, but as always, his expression did not change. Then again, he never absented himself from the dining table, even when the footmen handled the serving, so he couldn’t be bored.
She
was never bored. She leaned forward once more. “Cupid’s
shovel?
”

“When the arrows fail, yes. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Now answer my question, if you please.”

“And how shall I answer it?” Kate propped her elbow on the table and cupped her chin in her palm. “Perhaps he reminds me of my dear brother Valentine? I have always so admired you. Your quick intelligence, your generous nature, your delicious way with witty repartee...your incredible gullibility.”

“You forgot to mention easily amused,” Val said, tossing down his serviette as he stood up. “I really should warn the man.”

Dearborn helped her move back the heavy chair. Before she could follow Valentine the butler handed her a perfect apple he’d shined on his black coat sleeve, just as he’d done every morning since she’d first been allowed at the table. Some other young woman would think she was being needlessly coddled, or she simply deserved such personal treatment, but Kate never forgot the affection demonstrated by Dearborn’s gesture. It humbled her, when little else did.

“Thank you, Dearborn,” she said quickly before catching up to her brother in the hallway, matching him stride for long stride. “You mean you haven’t already warned him about my unladylike behavior?”

“Numerous times, although you’ve already proved that on your own, haven’t you? Any man of sense would be running the other way by now, which clearly he isn’t, and you’re being of absolutely no help if you’re encouraging him, which is the last bloody damn thing I ever suspected you’d do. He touches you, Kate, and it won’t be you having his liver on a stick, and perhaps mine, as well, all with Gideon’s compliments. Now excuse me. As our brother and your guardian isn’t here, I’m off to the stables to greet Simon, and ask his intentions.”

The apple halfway to her mouth, Kate blurted, “His— Oh, my God!” She tossed the apple back over her shoulder (to be deftly caught by one of the underfootmen), as she raced forward to stand in front of Valentine, to block his way. “Don’t you even
think
to do anything so silly.”

“Silly, is it? Why is it silly, Kate? Because you’ve absolutely no interest in the man? Or are you worried he might have no interest in you?”

“
You’re
the village idiot who told him to pretend to flirt with me, and for me to
practice
on him.”

“I’ll grant you half of that. I did suggest you might attempt to hone your very meager ladylike skills on the fellow, yes, and I apologize, although you haven’t as yet whacked him in the nose, so perhaps the idea had some little merit.”

Kate pulled a comical face. “One small punch in the middle of Almacks, and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Valentine grinned at her. “Not while I still draw breath, no. I’m going to tell your children and grandchildren, so they’ll have it to hang over your head when you admonish them to behave like ladies and gentlemen. Mostly, however, the plan was truly a ridiculous idea, meant to divert you from the real reason Simon’s here.
Mea culpa
for that, et cetera. But the rest of it was Gideon’s idea, and Perceval’s, not mine, or even Simon’s for that matter. Besides, I thought we were starting over.”

“There are some things you can’t start over, Val. Like...like peeling an apple. Once begun, you may as well continue, for there’s no putting it back the way it was.”

“Wonderful. Now my sister is a philosopher. A rather poor one, but I understand your point. The two of you are enjoying a flirt. Good for you. Now you understand my point.”

“You don’t want Gideon to murder you,” Kate said, nodding. “I understand that, as well. But for the love of heaven, Val, asking the man his
intentions?
In these few short days? As if Simon would take you seriously in the first place, and if you’re fearful of Gideon’s wrath, perhaps you might stop to consider mine. I’m a lot closer than Gideon.”

“I can always send you to him, trussed up and tossed in the coach if I have to. Because you’re right about that apple. Or at least the point of the thing about it not being possible to put some things back the way they once were.”

Kate tipped her head to peer up at her brother through her lashes. “My goodness, Valentine, I do believe you’re blushing.”

“And I do believe Gideon should have married you off at eighteen, so you’d be too busy now with your own brat to make my life a living misery.”

“Married me off to whom, Val? You all scowl down any man who comes near me.”

Val grinned at her. “That’s because we like most of them and didn’t wish to lose them as friends once the fog of infatuation cleared and they realized they’d been bracketed to a whirlwind.”

“Ha-ha,” Kate grumbled. “But it’s fine with you if I’m bracketed to a near stranger intent on poking his inquisitive nose into every area of our family history, on the lookout for scandal?”

Val stopped just as they’d reached the drive. “And precisely what do you mean by that, Katherine?”

Oh, now she’d put her boot in the muck! This was what happened when a person let a man into her mind. Disaster in the form of a weakened brain connected to a loose tongue. Which, of course, conveniently made her verbal slip all Simon’s fault. She supposed she’d now have to protect him from his own folly by lying through her teeth to Valentine. Really, that man owed her
so
much.

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “You know I never cared for Gideon’s idea to have the man here. We’re Redgraves. We solve our own problems.”

Valentine continued to look at her, as if considering her answer. “Now you sound like Trixie’s pet parrot, reciting her words.”

“She doesn’t have a parrot.”

“I don’t know about that. The person I’m looking at seems to have ruffled feathers at the moment. So you and Simon aren’t...aren’t getting to know each other better?”

“Just well enough to dislike each other. I mean, not
dislike.
I suppose he’s a likeable enough fellow. But there certainly is no whiff of April and May in the air, for pity’s sake. We have had a mission set before us, that’s all, and you can’t expect me to be happy having to include him in our search. I’m simply attempting to make do the best I can with the situation. Naturally, I’ll have my small lapses—”

“Ha! Forgetting where you left your riding crop is a small lapse. Stealing a man’s horse is more than a small lapse. One might even term it a whopping big lapse. I mean, if you’re soliciting opinions.”

“I’m not.” Kate pulled a face at him. “To continue. I’ll have my small lapses, such as this morning, but they mean nothing. You’re so fanciful, Val. And to think such things of your sister?”
Always end accepting blame and then accusing him of a greater guilt of his own—that ploy has worked on Val since we shared the nursery.

Valentine looked off into the distance, seeing what Kate did not know or care, and then sighed. “All right. I agree it’s a mildly uncomfortable situation for all of us, Simon included. I won’t embarrass you by asking his intentions.”

Kate breathed a sigh of relief. “Embarrass me? Think of yourself, Val, if he said he has no intention to do anything but his job, and quickly at that, so he can be shed of us.”

“Another good point. You know, Kate, I’m not quite so dull-witted with other women. But sisters are a whole other species. Part of me is dotty with pride about you being all grown up now and so surprisingly beautiful, so intelligent and independent, while another part remains staunchly committed to the innocent child I remember never coming to any sort of harm. Which makes it damned difficult to even consider that someday some man will look at you in a totally different light. See the woman, but not the child.”

“I’m fine, Val, and more than capable of taking care of myself. Why, you’ve just admitted as much, and I thank you for that.” Kate went up on tiptoe to kiss her brother’s cheek. “I’m the woman I am because of my brothers. And before you say something such as,
yes, for our sins
to ruin the moment, I didn’t mean that facetiously.”

“Thank you, Kate. But you’re also the woman you are because of Trixie, which is enough to keep your three brothers on their toes at all times.”

Kate laughed softly. “You’re right. She has taught me a few things that would probably keep you all up nights. Now, since you’ve changed your mind about confronting Simon, please allow me to go to the stables and wait for his return. I should apologize.”

“Should, but won’t,” Valentine said, displaying how well he knew her. “I’ll be off to see how Adam is doing with an assignment I gave him earlier. With any luck, he’s finished covering all the schoolroom slates with
a true gentleman is born to responsibilities, not entitlements.
With more luck, he’ll have spelled responsibilities incorrectly and I’ll be forced to make him do it all over again.”

Kate was still smiling as she approached the stable yard, only to see a tall male figure cresting the grassy hill nearly a half mile away, Dickie and the pony cart following behind. Simon must have ridden most of the way, to arrive so quickly, but he wasn’t about to let her see him still in the cart. Now that she considered the thing, he’d probably shifted Liam to the cart while he took the reins. Vain man. All men were vain. But women continued to best them, time after time.

The smug smile faded, though, to be replaced by a scowl, followed hard by realization and resignation, knowing she had declared victory too soon. Because Simon put two fingers at the corners of his mouth, whistled, and Hector, who had been roaming free behind the paddock fence, picked up his head, made short work out of clearing the top rail and trotted immediately uphill to his master.

If Simon had whistled as she was leading the stallion away, she probably would have been ignominiously jerked out of the saddle before she could think to release the reins. At the least, she would have been embarrassed. At the most, she could have been badly hurt. So, instead of risking either, he’d decided to walk back to the Manor in his tall riding boots.

The man was a gentleman.

She watched as he grabbed on to Hector’s mane and neatly hoisted himself up onto the stallion’s bare back, holding on with his tightly clasped knees as horse and rider rode triumphantly (smugly?) into the stable yard.

The man was a show-off.

He doffed his hat to her as a groom rushed up to slip a bridle on Hector, and then Simon slid his right leg up and over the stallion’s head and neatly leaped to the ground in front of her. He looked tall, somewhat warm, his thick blond hair damply mussed and falling onto his forehead. His green eyes were shining as he replaced the curly-brimmed beaver, seating it nearly at the back of his head.

The man was irresistible.

He looked down at her for long moments while Hector was led away, a smile slowly twitching at one corner of his mouth. “If we’re keeping score, I think this was ultimately my trick,” he said at last.

Kate said nothing. She did no more than blink her eyelids twice and continue looking up at him. She had nothing to say, nothing she could say. However, a part of her brain prodded, Valentine would have had
plenty
to say if he could see her now, see how Simon was looking at her now...how she was looking back at him.

“I’ve been thinking on my pleasant ride back here. What I’ve been thinking is, it’s time we got this over with before we manage to kill each other. Come on,” he said, grabbing on to her hand.

Protest was useless, especially since her heart wouldn’t be in it, so she simply allowed him to lead her around the stables and into a deep shadow caused by the morning sun striking the tall, gabled stable.

Still holding her hand, he deftly maneuvered both their arms behind her back, which had the happy result of bringing her upper body forward until they were pressed together, chest to chest.

“Just one,” she managed, wishing her voice didn’t sound so curiously raspy.

“We’ll begin with one.”

“You’re arrogant,” she countered, her gaze riveted to his mouth. Could he feel her heart beating, racing? Did he have to sound so smug? Did she have to sound so incredibly stupid? Couldn’t she be pithy, say something that would make him apprehensive about what he planned to do?