Chapter Ten
The next day,Kate breakfasted alone, having been informed that Robert was attending to business. She glanced through the cards from those intending to make a morning call, three gentlemen. She supposed she must have met them although their names were unfamiliar. The thought of facing visitors suddenly seemed overwhelming. Most men tried to flirt with her or wished her to take up some cause or other with Robert. Too raw and unhappy to deal with any of them, Kate called for the town carriage to be brought round. She handed the butler the gilt-edged calling cards. “Please inform the gentlemen I’m not at home, Hove. I wish to visit Lord and Lady Charlesworth. I’m not sure where they reside.”
“I believe they have a house in Portman Square, my lady,” Hove said. “Won’t take John but a moment to drive you there.”
Dispirited, Kate watched the trees and houses pass by as the landau negotiated the London streets. She hoped she’d chosen the right course. It was an enormous risk, but there seemed no other possible action to take. She’d dined alone the previous evening, their plans to attend a soiree, abandoned after Robert failed to come home. She’d lain awake wondering if she should have given in to him in the salon, or at least handled things better. When he’d begun to make love to her, the fact that he’d left her to visit a mistress the previous night gnawed at her. In the end, she felt more like pummeling his chest and berating him than making love to him.
She sighed. Robert desired her, but at the same time he kept a wall between them. What had happened to him to make him act this way? Or was she being naive? Did all lords behave in this manner? Trouble was, she had no experience to draw on, and no one she might ask for advice.
The coachman stopped the carriage outside an impressive, four-story house in a square of newish townhouses. They faced a garden square contained by a black iron fence. Within the square, a well-dressed lady sat on a bench watching her two children play with a ball on the grass. Kate wanted a life like that woman’s. An ordered life filled with love.
Assisted down from the carriage, she stepped up to the door still fearing she’d been rash. Well, it was too late now. She smoothed the skirts of her squirrel-colored redingote. Brigitte had assured Kate she was properly dressed. But Kate wasn’t so sure of Brigitte as the maid tended to be temperamental.
The butler answered her knock at the set of black doors. She offered him her card. “Please inform Lady Charlesworth I’m here to see her.” It was the wrong time for a morning call, but if Kate waited for another day, she might lose her nerve. She could only hope the lady would agree to see her.
He escorted her to an antechamber and gestured to a chair. “Please wait, Lady St. Malin.”
She perched on a gilt chair listening to his footsteps on the staircase while clutching her gloved hands together. What if Robert’s mother refused to see her?
The butler returned and took Kate’s coat, then led her upstairs to the drawing room. She walked into a room furnished in the dainty chinoiserie style which suited its occupant perfectly. A pale blue and gold patterned Aubusson carpet covered the floor and swags of gold silk hung at the windows. Birds adorned the dull gold wallpaper. Hothouse floral bouquets in porcelain urns sat about on gilt-edged tables, perfuming the air. Lady Charlesworth rather like a flower herself, was dressed in a lilac round gown. She’d turned from where she’d been pacing, her embroidery flung onto the floor at her feet. A flush colored her cheeks and her gaze slid past Kate to the door. It occurred to Kate that she would have hoped her son accompanied her.
The lady hurried forward. She took Kate’s hands in hers. “Lady St. Malin, how good of you to come.” She drew Kate to sit beside her on the blue damask sofa. “I have ordered tea unless you care for wine?”
Grateful for something to ease her dry throat, Kate nodded. “Tea will be perfect, thank you.”
Lady Charlesworth rearranged the cashmere shawl over her slender shoulders with quick nervous fingers. “I was aware that Robert’s uncle planned to have him marry the woman of his choosing.” She smiled. “But I confess, you were a surprise.”
Kate hoped that no animosity lay behind her words. Robert’s mother was entitled to have wanted a better marriage for her son. She decided to get to the point before the moment turned awkward. “I’ve come to ask for your advice, Lady Charlesworth.”
The older woman put a pale hand to her throat and threaded her fingers through her pearls. “I’m not sure I can be of any assistance to you, my dear. But I’ll certainly try.”
“Robert appears troubled. I’m at my wits’ end to understand why.”
“Troubled?” Tears sparkled in Lady Charlesworth’s blue eyes, disturbingly like her son’s. Her obvious distress sent a shaft of remorse through Kate. Should she have come?
“He will be mourning his uncle of whom he was inordinately fond.” Lady Charlesworth put her hands to her flushed cheeks. “You must be aware that my son and I have been estranged for some time. I don’t expect that will change now. I used to pray for his forgiveness, but now I just want him to be happy.” Her lips trembled. “I’m sorry if he isn’t.”
“Robert has told me nothing of this estrangement.” It had been obvious at the ball something was badly amiss between them. How stiff and aloof Robert had been in his mother’s presence, and when Kate had tried to question him, he’d cut her off.
“No, that doesn’t surprise me. He keeps his own counsel.”
Lady Charlesworth said no more, and Kate began to wonder if she’d done more harm than good coming here. She leaned forward. “I’m desperate, Lady Charlesworth.”
“Oh?” Her ladyship’s fingers returned to her pearls. “I wish he would talk to you. It would be so much better for him.” She paused. “It might be helpful for you to know what you’re dealing with.”
“I shall be discreet concerning anything you wish to tell me, Lady Charlesworth.”
“The trouble between us, if that is what lies behind his present state of mind, began some time ago, when I married Lord Charlesworth a few months after Robert’s father died. It was far too soon for some, but I had no choice.”
The recollection seemed to upset her. She drew a handkerchief from her sleeve and twisted it in her lap. “I became enceinte almost immediately, and my daughter born a month early. For some time, I was censured by theton. Vicious rumors spread accusing me of committing adultery while Robert’s father lay dying.” Her eyes took on a stricken look. “As if I would do such a thing. Thetoncan be monstrously cruel. Once bereaved a man may marry immediately if he chooses, but a woman is expected to remain in mourning for a year or more. I could not afford to wait. The dreadful financial straits I found myself in made that impossible. I feared for Robert’s and my future. He but a boy, and away at Harrow. It must have been hard for him. I couldn’t tell Robert that the man who’d been a good father to him, was an inveterate gambler. You must do as you see fit, of course. But revealing it now would serve little purpose.” She scrunched the piece of lace in her hand. “My husband and Robert got off to a bad start. Robert never accepted him, which is a shame as he’s a good man. And then things grew worse after Robert became enamored of a young lady who did not meet with our approval. He and Charlesworth argued over it. That was the final straw, and Robert became estranged from us.”
Kate’s heart swelled with sorrow for Robert. But might this be the reason things were not right between them? Did he still harbor feelings for her? “He was prevented from marrying the woman he loved?”
“I don’t believe our disapproval prevented the marriage. She chose to marry someone else.”
“How surprising.” Kate found it impossible for any woman to resist him if he loved them. He could be very appealing when he wished. If only Kate had been the object of his affection and saw that side of Robert: the ardent suitor, passionately seeking her hand in marriage. The swift rush of jealousy ebbed away into despondency.
Lady Charlesworth nodded with a small smile. “After his separation from us, he grew closer to his uncle. I believe he would have forgiven me and returned to us if his uncle had not been there.” She drew in a breath. “I don’t mean to sound critical. I’m glad St. Malin gave him love and support.”
