‘He is an Earl, after all,’ Harriet went on. ‘So he’s probably very rich, and you must have noticed that he is extraordinarily good-looking—’
Kate stopped so abruptly that Harriet nearly bumped into her. ‘Neither of those qualities says anything positive about the man’s character. In fact, it’s the opposite. He is a rogue, believe me!’
Harriet nodded fervently. ‘Yes. Of course, and I’m sure you are a far better judge of such things than I am.’ Then she added in a small voice, ‘You aren’t thinking of leaving Clematis Villa, are you?’
‘What, and go back to London to be unpaid nursemaid to Monica’s children? Never. I shall find an answer to this. I believe that wretched man must have deceived my aunt, somehow!’
‘Yes,’ said Harriet. ‘But can you prove it?’
‘I will find a way.’
Kate limped onwards. Her words were brave, but inside she feared that the Earl would be a formidable enemy. She hadn’t failed to notice the scorn in his blue gaze, and it chilled her to the bone, even on a warm night like this.
Of course she was used to scorn, ever since the illness that had permanently weakened her right leg. At school she had hoped to be let off dancing lessons, but she was told they would be good for her, and her efforts at the cotillion and thecontredansehad attracted many a withering comment from theFrench dancing master. ‘Mam’selle Katherine,’ he used to say, ‘I believe you must have two left feet!’
Then there was the humiliation of her Season and that wager. She’d told no one about it, but afterwards she had refused to attend any more social functions, and during the years of living first with her father and then with her sister, Kate had desperately tried to think of ways to gain her independence. Now the answer had arrived. It was clear now that her dear aunt had not forgotten her at all, and moving to Clematis Villa would mark, she’d believed, the start of the new life she’d dreamed of, based on independence and freedom. But on her first night here, the Earl and his detestable friends had shattered that dream into pieces.
Kate reached the house in low spirits, but on entering she was heartened to see that a log fire was burning comfortably in the parlour, and on the kitchen table, someone had placed scones, a loaf of bread, some butter and a jug of milk.
‘Who—’ began Harriet.
Kate was already reading the note left beside the food.Tilly made the scones and the bread. I will see you in the morning. Joseph.
It was a reminder that she wasn’t alone after all. She showed the note to Harriet. ‘I told you about my aunt’s handyman, didn’t I? Joseph lives close by, and Tilly is his wife. He must have called while we were out!’
Eagerly Harriet buttered some scones and they sat in the cosy parlour to eat them. Then Kate took Harriet upstairs to show her the little bedchamber that was to be hers, and Harriet was quite overcome. ‘I’ve never dreamed I could have such a lovely room. Thank you.’ She hugged Kate tightly. ‘As for the Earl, everything will be all right, I’m sure. You are so practical, you’ll know exactly how to cope with him! Anyway, he’ll be leaving before long.’
Kate was startled. ‘Will he?’
‘Why, yes! Don’t all the rich folk only come to Brighton for the summer? By September, Miss Kate, he and his friends will surely be returning to London.’
Kate nodded. ‘You’re right, Harriet. That is some comfort, at least. And please, do call me Kate! We’re friends, I hope, and I’m very glad you’re here with me. Goodnight. Sleep well!’
After that, Kate went downstairs again to damp down the fire in the parlour. Then she carried a candle up to her own room, where she sat on her bed and sighed, because really, Harriet’s words were of little comfort at all.
She just could not understand how all this had happened. Why had Jemima parted with her land? She had always appeared quite comfortably off and happy with the company of just a few close friends, happy also to take a leisurely drive in the gig drawn by her pony, Rupert. Jemima had shown Kate that it was entirely possible for a single woman to live an enjoyable life without any need for a man or his money, which led her back to the dratted Earl.
He, or one of his minions, must have spied out Jemima’s land as a suitable building plot, and then he had pounced—because who, among theton,did not want a house in Brighton these days? Not long ago, it had been a sleepy little fishing village, but the patronage of the Prince Regent had transformed the seaside town into just about the most popular destination in England.
Of course, the Earl would be accustomed to getting whatever he wanted in life, whether it was land, houses or women, and a little shiver ran down her spine when she thought of what might be going on now in the bedrooms of his big house. She changed into her sensible nightgown and thankfully fell asleep, but in the early hours she had a dream. In it, the Viscount’s son led her outside into a lamplit garden but too late, she realised that all around them were his friends, laughing and pointing ather. Worst of all was the moment she saw that he wasn’t the Viscount’s son at all but the Earl of Rivington, who stood there in just his breeches and boots with his muscled torso gleaming in the light of those garden lamps. ‘Miss Summerby,’ he was saying, ‘you are making yourself ridiculous. You have no right to be here. No right. No right…’
She woke and she was trembling.Everythinghad gone wrong tonight. And the next day, she feared, was going to be even more difficult—because the Earl had said he would call.
CHAPTER FOUR
The next morning Kate rose early and was downstairs by seven, only to find that Harriet was in the kitchen already. ‘I’m making breakfast for us both,’ Harriet announced. ‘I’ve managed to light the range—do you see? I’ve already put the kettle on to boil and I’ve set up the toasting rack above the coals.’
‘Harriet,’ began Kate. ‘Are you sure? The cooker is very old, and I remember it can be tricky…’
She broke off, because suddenly the air was filled with the smell of scorched bread, and Harriet dived to pull away the toasting rack. ‘I shall cut fresh slices,’ she declared. ‘I shall get it right next time—oh! What if His Lordship wants refreshments, Miss Kate? What should I serve him?’
‘Burnt toast?’ said Kate. ‘It’s all the man deserves.’
Harriet laughed but looked worried again, so Kate quickly added, ‘Those scones of Tilly’s will be fine, though I’m hoping the Earl won’t stay long at all.’
‘Indeed,’ said Harriet firmly. ‘You’ll put him in his place, no doubt about it!’
But Kate had the awful feeling that the man would arrive with a whole heap of paperwork to get her head in a muddle. Harriet too was still fretting over their visitor, and although Kate tried to convince her that the house was perfectly tidy, Harriet was determined to clean each room. So together they donned aprons,then went around the house, dusting and polishing until they had a visitor who was truly welcome—Joseph.
