‘But why was he hiding behind that door?’
‘He wasn’t hiding. He was looking for some blotting paper in the bureau.’
‘Blotting paper! Oh, heavens. And I said to you, in front of him—I said…’
‘To be precise, you said that I believed he was a crook.’ Kate had turned to face her. ‘I doubt it now. But I still do not trust him in the least.’
Harriet sighed. ‘He is so very handsome, though. His clothes must be amazingly expensive, but he wears them as if he really doesn’t care what he looks like. I’m sure he must have lots of adventures with pretty women—’
Kate turned to face her. ‘Harriet, how can you even think of such things? Is it because of those frivolous romances you keep devouring?’
‘Well,youwere swooning over Lord Byron and hisChilde Haroldwhen it came out in March! And Lord Byron is a rake, is he not?’
‘Yes, but Lord Byron writes wonderful poetry and… Oh, all right.’ Kate, drying her hands briskly on a towel, had to admitdefeat. ‘But I cannot accept what Lord Rivington has done to my aunt’s property, and I shall continue to oppose him.’
‘You can’t make him pull his house down, though, can you?’
‘Hardly, but I still have doubts about the whole business. The man is clever, and I believe he must have taken advantage of my poor aunt’s declining health when he persuaded her to sell her land. Now I must go and make sure I’ve cleaned all the ink from my aunt’s desk.’
‘Yes,’ said Harriet humbly. She brightened up again. ‘And I shall make us some tea.’
Kate went back into the parlour, sorely troubled. She had come across plenty of men in London who were considered handsome, but the Earl was in a different class. Those dangerous blue eyes of his unsettled her mightily, and he must realise it. No doubt he would be laughing about her with all his friends tonight.
She hoped she’d made it clear that she found him obnoxious. But what if he’d guessed that last night, as he had emerged half-naked from the lake and taken that woman in his arms, she had found herself thinking,what if I were in his arms instead?
She put her hands to her cheeks, because during their confrontation just now, while he was being fairly hateful to her to be honest, she’d had to keep dragging her gaze away from his mouth. Though his lips could deliver icily cutting words, they also suggested a silky softness that made her wonder about his kisses…
Kate Summerby,she scolded herself.When have you ever paid the slightest attention to a man’s mouth, for heaven’s sake?
When the Viscount’s son had paid court to her was the answer, and that had proved disastrous. For the second time in her life, she was experiencing the pull of physical attraction and her temporary weakness terrified her.
She wiped fresh blotting paper over the desk, which fortunately had suffered no permanent damage, then she sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose where her spectacles had chafed. This afternoon, Lord Rivington would have come to the same conclusion as her sister, Monica—that Kate was a social failure, destined to spend her life alone despite the hours her sister had spent during Kate’s Season plotting to find a husband for her.
‘The younger son of a baronet would do—either that, or a wealthy businessman like my Edward!’ Monica would remind her as they arrived at yet another party where Kate was doomed to sit by herself, feeling as though she might as well have a large sign hanging around her neck—Wallflower, up for offer.
Marry a man like her brother-in-law, with his lecherous eyes? Never.
As for the Viscount’s son, Monica was thrilled when he began to pay attention to Kate. But Monica knew nothing of Kate’s humiliation on realising she had been the target of a wager between a group of callous young aristocrats, and in fact she had been seriously angry when Kate refused to attend any more social events. But Kate was adamant and had lived quietly with her father until he decided to marry—which was when Monica had come up with the idea that Kate should live with them, as a convenient childminder.
Harriet came in with a tray of tea and some biscuits too, so Kate felt obliged to try one. But oh, dear—as she tried to bite it, she discovered it was as hard as rock. Harriet was watching her anxiously. ‘Have I overcooked them? I was afraid the oven was too hot. I am sorry! I must ask Tilly to give me some hints. Joseph says she knows everything about baking.’
‘That’s a good idea. I remember she was always bringing my aunt delicious cakes.’ Kate tried to smile. ‘And don’t worry about these biscuits, but I wish you’d brought them in earlier, then Icould have offered one to the Earl. Trying to bite into it might have silenced him for a while.’
That got a smile from Harriet, who took the tray back to the kitchen once they’d finished their tea. Kate, meanwhile, decided to put the heavy law book back where she’d found it, but as she did so she spotted on the shelves a familiar book she had once loved, a guide to birds. As a child she had pored over it for hours, memorising the names and delicate pictures, and when she opened its faded pages, a note dropped out.
Dearest Kate,it said.I knew you would find your way here, whatever the obstacles. Welcome to Clematis Villa.
Kate held it tightly, feeling suddenly overwhelmed, because she recognised her aunt’s beautiful writing and could almost hear her kindly voice.Whatever the obstacles?It sounded as if Jemima had known that her letters never reached Kate, and this was her way of welcoming her.
Kate had to dash away the tears that threatened. Yes, she was here, but she hadn’t counted on making a powerful enemy so quickly and so disastrously.
CHAPTER FIVE
Do you still think the man is a crook?As Dan had ridden away from Clematis Villa, that utterance of Miss Summerby’s friend was ringing in his ears.
He had been called many things in life but never a crook, and he was in a startlingly bad mood. He could have told Kate Summerby that her aunt had been hugely grateful for Dan’s offer, since it enabled her to pay off her debts with money to spare. He liked to think they had become friends, and when Jemima told him that she had only a short time to live, she had also told him who would inherit Clematis Villa.
‘I want my niece to have it,’ she’d said. ‘I fear she might be lonely when she first moves in, so if your paths should cross be kind to her, will you? That is all I ask.’
