Carefully she hobbled back into the house, where Harriet took one look and gasped, ‘Oh, no! You haven’t gone and hurt that ankle of yours again, have you?’
‘It’s nothing. Really it isn’t.’
‘You don’t fool me,’ said Harriet with unexpected severity. ‘I’ll fetch a cloth soaked in cold water to wrap around the swelling, so you sit down in the parlour and put your feet up!’
Kate did so, fretting all the time over what to say to the Earl tomorrow. If she refused his suggestion she would face isolation, and even if she accepted, everyone might still dismiss her as a drab little joke. Tomorrow, she had to give him her answer—and she knew that really, she had no choice at all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
As Dan walked back in the near dark, his house emerged through the trees like some Gothic fantasy, magnificent and vastly expensive, just as Cecily had desired. But Dan didn’t want to think of her. Instead, he was trying to work out why in heaven’s name he was courting fresh trouble by concerning himself in any way with his new neighbour. Was this his way of apologising to her? Or was it because he felt sorry for her?
It was a bit of both, probably. He knew that women had little by way of defence if they were without a man to protect them, and he also knew that thetondid not like oddities. Kate Summerby was certainly different, in that she always made it clear how she had no wish whatsoever to draw men’s attention.
But what had made her like that? The illness she had suffered must have been a blow, though plenty of suitors would overlook that slight impediment, especially if they’d seen her tonight in that low-cut pink dress. Any man with red blood in his veins would have had to stop in admiration because her half-exposed bosom had looked temptingly ripe, her face was delightfully expressive and her fair hair had gleamed with touches of silver and gold. Why hadn’t she tried harder when she had her Season? Had she not wanted to get married and have children?
No doubt about it, she was a puzzle. But he reminded himself that his offer tonight did not require him to delve into herprivate history, because theirs would be a temporary alliance only.
As he entered the house, he could already hear laughter from the dining room and he walked in to see that his guests were playing cards around the long mahogany table. Of course, Bea was there, sitting on Gascoyne’s lap with her bodice unlaced and her arms draped round his neck, while the half-empty bottles strewn around bore witness to yet more drinking. One wine bottle had been knocked over and there was a pool of red wine on the carpet.
‘Dan!’ Someone had spotted him standing in the doorway. ‘Where on earth have you been? Come and join us, because we…’
The man’s voice trailed away when he saw Dan’s expression. Dan said, ‘I want you all to leave tomorrow. Preferably first thing in the morning.’
There was an astonished silence before Gascoyne spoke almost jovially. ‘Dan, my friend. What the devil’s come over you? We’re here to cheer you up. Keep you company.’
‘Perhaps.’ Dan’s voice was remarkably calm. ‘But I’ve decided that I’ve had enough of allthis.’ He pointed at the scattered bottles and the half-finished plates of food.
Another man spoke up. ‘Someone said they saw you heading off towards Miss Prim’s house. Has she been complaining about us? Admittedly we startled her earlier, but you’re surely not worried about what she thinks?’
‘He is!’ Gascoyne spoke gleefully. ‘He has definitely seen her. Look at his face!’
Bea said coyly, ‘Perhaps you should invite her here one night, my lord. You never know, the poor woman might learn a few ways to actually enjoy herself.’
One of the men almost choked with merriment. Another fellow clapped him on the back and in doing so sent both him and his chair crashing to the floor, which caused even morelaughter. Dan looked at them all and in his expression was a world of contempt.
Contempt for Gascoyne and the rest of them, yes, but also for himself. When drawing up his guest list, he’d deliberately chosen some of the liveliest rakes in town because he’d been intent on having a good time. He should have known what to expect—ridiculous and drunken antics that involved rudeness to his staff and to anyone else in their way.
He said, ‘I wasn’t joking. I want you all out of my house tomorrow, by noon at the very latest.’
Before any of them could say another word, he left the room and went to the library, where Oliver, as he’d expected, was reading. But he looked up from his book with his eyebrows faintly raised as Dan pulled up a chair and faced him.
‘They’re all leaving after tonight,’ Dan announced. ‘I’ve just told them so.’
‘About time,’ said Oliver calmly. He was pointing to the open book. ‘Did you know that Whitehawk Hill, close to the racecourse here, was once a camp for Roman soldiers?’
Oliver was in pain, Dan realised. His face was white and drawn, although as usual his smile was cheerful. How did he cope so well? Why wasn’t he bitter at what that damned war had done to him? Dan looked at the book Oliver held out and said, ‘I know that the summer fair held on the hill has a wild reputation, which must make those Romans turn in their graves.’
‘Perhaps.’ Oliver laughed and put the book aside. ‘Have you been to see Miss Summerby?’
Now, how did his brother guess that? ‘I have.’ Dan rose and went to pour them both a drink. ‘Some of my guests were rude to her earlier this evening so I went to apologise.’ He took a sip of his brandy.
‘Interesting. Are the two of you still at daggers drawn?’
‘It might surprise you that I’ve actually attempted a truce, of sorts. I’ve suggested that I escort her to two events in Brighton—eminently respectable ones, of course.’
Oliver looked supremely startled.‘Why?’
Dan took a large swig of his drink, while noting that his brother hadn’t even touched his. ‘Two reasons. Firstly, my so-called friends blundered into her garden tonight, and as a result she hurt her ankle. I could tell she was upset and in pain, and I couldn’t help but feel responsible. Also, I gather she’s being treated coldly in the town, so I made my suggestion. She said she would give me her answer tomorrow.’
