Only Scandal Will Do Page 7

  Now she would be accompanying a Major Jameson, on his way to take a post with her father’s old regiment. He, his wife and daughter would make sure she arrived safely and provide chaperonage until she either married Captain Dawson or contacted their mother’s relatives living in Pennsylvania.

  “Well, if I can’t get all these clothes in here I am going to be sorely pressed to cover myself next winter, Jack, unless you intend on sending me substantial sums of money every quarter. That would not hurt my feelings, you know.” She laughed at his outraged expression. “I suspect I will be able to get along rather well on a captain’s pay until the children come along. Then, Uncle Jack, you will be made to pay through the nose.” God, she would miss him.

  “Kat, are you sure this is what you want?” His beloved face wore that woebegone expression again, the earnest blue eyes, so often merry, now a bleak gray.

  She steeled her heart. “For the four hundredth time, yes! I don’t belong here in this London jungle. My home is the much safer wilderness of Virginia. You cannot know how terrified I am every time I leave the house. What if those blackguards are still out there? What if they try to take me back to that...that place? I barely escaped once. Do you think I’d be so lucky again?” This was not an idle argument; the man in the mask could indeed be looking for her.

  Jack shook his head. “I do understand. But I got bashed on the head and I’m not running back home.”

  She stopped trying to shove the brown leather boots into the overstuffed trunk and took his hands. “I know you’re not. Though maybe you should! You could have been killed, Jack. And then where would I be? But no, I for once have a luxury you cannot afford. It is your duty to stay here, take your place in society, marry and produce an heir. So you must face your responsibilities.” She crinkled her eyes at him. “While I manage to avoid mine.”

  “What will I do without you, Kat?”

  To her horror, tears threatened at his forlorn tone. She must do this.

  “You will be fine without me. You’ve already made friends, you have the house and servants. You will quite possibly one day receive a letter from me and say, ‘Katarina, Katarina, where have I heard that name before?’” More soberly, she embraced her brother’s tall frame, all teasing aside. “Besides, it is not forever. I will come back now and again. For your wedding certainly, whenever that is. And who knows but that Captain Dawson may be stationed here in London at some point. I would not be so afraid here with a husband in tow.”

  “Then let us simply find you a husband here.” Jack’s face lit up at the possibility. “Why is that impossible? The whole of London could be at your feet if you would only go out at night.”

  “You should bow down and give thanks I have agreed to accompany you tonight. I feel positively terrified when I go out after dark.” A shiver touched her at the thought.

  “I am cut to the bone. You don’t feel I can protect you.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt you can.” She chuckled. “But you will have to beat me to it now.” On the rare occasions she went about at night, she carried a concealed knife and muff pistol hidden in a pocket.

  “If you take to wearing your sword I’ll refuse to be seen with you,” Jack warned.

  Simons discreetly cleared his throat from the hallway. “Beg pardon, milord, but Mr. Matthews would like a word with Lady Katarina.”

  Kat stared at Simons, suddenly on guard. “Did he say what he wanted, Simons?”

  “No, my lady.”

  “Most likely a social call to ask after my welfare. Come, Jack. Do you remember Mr. Matthews? I find him quite charming.” As she led Jack from the room, she stilled her fears. She truly liked Matthews, but had the disturbing feeling he knew more about that night than she had actually told him.

  She and Jack entered the reception room to find Matthews, parcel in hand, rising from a deep pink-figured Chippendale double chair. Kat made the introductions and sat in the near side seat, motioning a reluctant Matthews to reclaim his place beside her. Jack took a companion chair opposite them. “So, Mr. Matthews,” Kat began with a smile. “You are well, I trust?”

  “I am, my lady.” The blue of his eyes deepened as he seemed to study her face. “And I see you and the earl have made a complete recovery from your ordeal. But I am afraid my visit is not of a social nature. A development last night regarding your abduction brings me here. Do you recognize this?” He pulled a wad of black material from its parcel. The cloak evoked such horror and shame that the room disappeared, her vision riveted on the garment in his hands. A faint smell of citrus wafted from its folds, making her stomach roll. The man in the golden mask. Her face heated.

  Jack looked at her, eyebrows raised. She must say something. Deliberately softening her expression, she frowned, aiming for a touch perplexed. “I seem to recall...” She paused, gathering her courage. “I believe I stole that cloak out of a cloakroom or some such place as I fled the house, Mr. Matthews. I was concerned if I ran about the streets of London in only that scandalous Greek costume I might be accosted again. So I grabbed this and put it around me before I ran. It was terribly long. So long it dragged the ground.”

  Slowly her breathing returned to normal, though a glance at Matthews confirmed he still watched her every move. Smiling so as to dimple her cheeks, she sighed to herself. Reginald Matthews, a charming and perhaps genuinely caring man, was also very, very sharp.

  An awkward silence ensued. Matthews looked at her expectantly.

  “I beg pardon, Mr. Matthews. I was woolgathering. You were saying?”

  “I merely said you had great presence of mind to think of such a thing at such a time.” He nodded approvingly, though his voice held a hint of skepticism.

  “Jack will attest I am a practical person. I tend to face life head on, more like a man than a conventional woman.”

  “I quite see that about you, my lady. You were most courageous the night I met you, if you recall.”

  “And I have been less so ever since, Mr. Matthews. I am now so cowardly that I scarce go out after dark.” Katarina shook her head ruefully.

  “I have persuaded her to make an exception this evening,” Jack piped up. “She is to accompany me to Lady Harcourt’s rout tonight, despite her protests. It will be my last opportunity to show her off, for some time to come.”

  She caught Matthews’s eye. His interest was piqued. Blast Jack’s gossiping tongue!

  “You are leaving us, my lady? A sojourn on the continent to restore your spirits?”

  “A voyage to America, where I am to be married.”

  “Married?” Matthews’s voice rose in surprise, but he recovered quickly. “My best wishes for you and your betrothed, Lady Katarina. You did not mention that to me before.” His eyes met hers, eyebrows arched.

  “I did not see how that information would have aided you in your investigation, sir.”

  “One never knows how information or lack thereof may affect inquiries,” he admonished her gently. “Your betrothal was known before you left the colonies?”

  Kat hesitated then went on boldly. “No, it was a private agreement between the gentleman and myself as I did not know how swiftly I would return to Virginia. Now, considering the circumstances, I find I regard Virginia as a virtual haven. I have already written to inform him of my intent. My ship leaves on tomorrow’s evening tide.”

  Again that shocked expression in Matthews’s eyes. What on earth did that mean?

  “Then this will be goodbye, Lady Katarina.” He rose and took her offered hand, bending over it. “I will always be grateful to have met you, even under the unfortunate circumstances.”

  “You have been most kind, Mr. Matthews.” She allowed her voice to warm a trifle. “I too wish it had been solely through our connection.”

  He turned to leave and she caught his hand. He had been a good adversary, and oddly, a friend. She regretted lying to him. “You will send word if the kidnappers are found?”

  He looked down at her hand on his and quietly wi
thdrew it. “I will contact Lord Manning if there are further developments.” He sent her one more piercing look that made her gasp then he was gone.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Jack now stood, his mouth puckered into a strained knot. “Damned insolent fellow, if you ask me. What was he playing at, do you suppose? I don’t know if I liked the way he looked at you just now.”

  Kat turned on him, vexed. “There was nothing wrong with the way he looked at me, Jack. Mr. Matthews is a respectable man, a man any woman would be glad to...” She stopped, quite unable to continue.

  “Oh, hell!” Exasperation and disdain conflicted in Jack’s expression. “Are you in love with a Bow Street Runner? Katarina! The man’s a commoner!”

  “So were we less than a year ago, Jack!” she shot back, annoyed at his snobbery. “And no, I’m not in love with him, but...I like him. Mr. Matthews was kind to me when everything was so horrible. He is an honorable man and a relation and I won’t have you sneer at him.”

  Jack glanced at the floor and shifted his weight from foot to foot. He ran a hand through his dark hair and raised thoughtful eyes to her. “If you like him, Kat, why don’t you stay? I suppose I could get used to the idea. He does seem a decent sort. And good at his job, I understand. If he became magistrate, he’d at least have an honorary title.”

  Her heartbeat fluttered, not at the thought of Reginald Matthew, but at the love of a brother who so desperately wanted to keep her with him. Slowly she shook her head. “I think Mr. Matthews a worthy suitor, but he likely would not. He would not want it said that I married down. Not even for love.” She blushed, and hated herself for doing so. “If I loved him. And I have no idea he feels anything for me beyond...I don’t know. Protectiveness. That’s what I felt the night we met. Protected. That’s all.”

  “But damn it, Kat, if you...”

  “Jack! I leave for Virginia tomorrow. Let us have peace between us until then. After I board the ship, you can curse at me all you want.” She linked her arm with his. “Don’t make me regret I agreed to go out with you tonight. Our last night together should be a wonderful memory, don’t you think?”

  Jack appeared to want to continue the argument, but nodded in agreement. “But if this is our last night together, I intend to make the most of it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll see, my lady.” The teasing look returned to his face, thank the Lord. “I will expect you downstairs, appropriately attired, ready to leave at nine o’clock sharp.”

  “You said that once before, with disastrous results.”

  He grinned at her, good humor restored. “But this time you’ve promised to protect me, remember.”

  Her spirits on the rise, she linked arms with him and they left the room laughing.

  * * * *

  The old grandfather clock in the downstairs hallway struck nine as Kat emerged, elegantly attired as promised, and quietly descended the stairs. Jack awaited her at the bottom of the staircase, his smile growing as she grew closer.

  “Oh, Kat! You have outdone yourself!” He made a wry face. “I might have known you would outshine all the rest of the ton ladies on your last night here.” He beamed at her. “You will, you know. No one out this year holds a candle to you dressed like that.”

  The gown did indeed put to shame any other she possessed. Moonlight blue satin, embroidered in a subtle pattern of leaves and trimmed with frothy Cluny lace across the bodice. The decolletage was not scandalously low, but low enough that Jack’s furtive glances told her he feared for her breasts’ safety. She’d purchased the gown in the expectation it would be her best once she arrived in Virginia. Perhaps, her wedding gown.

  “You are exquisite, Kat. I have never seen you so beautiful.” His worried expression sent her into a peal of laughter.

  “Thank you, sir. But put your mind at ease. I assure you I am quite safely strapped in.”

  “What do you mean?” He pointedly glanced away then stole another look.

  “Stop staring at my breasts like that. If you don’t, you’ll draw everyone’s attention to them. Is that what you want?”

  “But, won’t they explode from that dress if you take a deep breath?”

  Katarina giggled. “I assure you they will not. This is the fashion, Jack. They fit exactly as they are supposed to in this dress. Lord, I think we need to start searching for a wife for you, dear brother. So you can dictate her clothing.”

  By this time they were in the carriage and Jack gave the direction to the driver. Kat raised an eyebrow. “You said we were going to Lady Harcourt’s rout tonight.”

  “Later, dear sister. We have another stop to make first.” Jack’s smug countenance told her she was in for a night of surprises. Ah, well. Her final night in London society should be a night for her to remember always.

  * * * *

  Duncan stood talking to the Earl of Braeton about Braeton’s newest acquisition for his stable, surreptitiously glancing about the crowded ballroom to no avail. The brightly lighted room swirled in gaiety: dancing couples followed the intricate steps of a minuet, others dallied in shadowy corners to steal a moment or a kiss alone. Onlookers strolled about with eyes peeled, poised to ferret out the merest whisper of scandal. Duncan barely noticed the laughter, the flirtatious glances, the lively music. He had been the same all night, always distracted, always searching for the arresting face now seared into his memory.

  As midnight drew near, hopelessness descended. Another night wasted. Now he must resort to subterfuge in order to scrape an acquaintance with the lady and her brother so he could sort the whole mess out without embroiling himself in another duel.

  According to his host, the new Earl of Manning had indeed been invited, but sent his regrets. A double disappointment. Afraid to ask about the earl too early in the evening, when the conversation had finally led him toward such an inquiry, he could not simply bolt home without having it remarked on. He’d given himself until midnight before he would leave. Meanwhile, he still hoped she would show up.

  “Come out to the stable and take a look at this mare, Dalbury. I tell you there’s not a better piece of horseflesh this side of Dublin. Lady Braeton is positively thrilled with her. Quite appreciative to me as well.” Braeton’s grin became a leer.

  “I might as well, Braeton. I’m for home anyway.” Duncan sighed and gave one more sweep of the ballroom. No enchanting figure with fiery hair. He shook his head as he followed his host out. They had almost reached the French doors that led to the grounds, when the sound of a woman’s low-pitched, silky voice stopped Lord Braeton.

  “Braeton! Where are you going with our most eligible guest?” Eithne, Lady Braeton appeared from nowhere, in a royal blue sacque dress that did nothing for her complexion, and grasped Duncan’s arm. “Lord Dalbury! I refuse to hear you are leaving us so early. Braeton! Dalbury must stay a little longer. I’ve not had a chance to introduce him to my cousin, Miss Forsythe. She has been partnered on the dance floor all night or else he has.” She eyed Duncan as one would a stallion they were buying for stud.

  “Taking him out to see Grannia, my dear. Told him how pleased you were with her.”

  “Oh, she’s the loveliest mount I’ve been on in an age. Graceful as a bird in flight, Dalbury. Takes a hedge or a brook like she’s on a country road.” Lady Braeton’s eyes shone with the fervor of a true horsewoman. She was small-boned, with large blue eyes and shockingly red hair. But her good nature and excellent connections had landed her a prime husband in the Earl of Braeton. A love match, according to Aunt Phoebe.

  Struggling not to imagine another face surrounded by reddish hair, he steadfastly focused his attentions on his hostess. “I fear I will have to leave after seeing your mare, Lady Braeton. My regrets to Miss Forsythe, but you will of course be sponsoring her throughout the season?”

  “Of course, Lord Dalbury. I will make sure the two of you become acquainted. She has that coloring I know you are so fond of.” Lady Braeton’s laughter caug
ht him off guard. Was his penchant for auburn hair so well known? Cringing, he bowed gallantly over her hand, then released the lady to her husband.

  “Oh look, Braeton. Cecil Breckenridge is just arriving. He promised me a foal out of his Arabian mare. Come, we must find out if she’s dropped it yet.” Laying claim to her husband, Lady Braeton steered him toward the arriving horseman with unashamed zeal. “Dalbury,” she called over her shoulder, “stay right there. We will return directly.”

  Duncan remained by the door for a few minutes, then slipped quietly out and headed around to the front of the house. After calling for his carriage, he waited impatiently for it to be brought around. A wasted night. One more of many, he supposed.

  * * * *

  Laughing again at her brother’s impetuosity in dragging her into yet another ton function this evening, Katarina swept once more into a ballroom on Jack’s arm. He immediately spied their host and hostess and urged her toward them.

  “Lord and Lady Braeton, may I make known to you my sister, Lady Katarina Fitzwilliam? Kat, I told you about Lord and Lady Braeton and their stud out in Kent?”

  “Delighted, Lady Katarina,” Lady Braeton said, nodding her acknowledgement. “Your brother speaks highly of your horsemanship. You must come to us in Kent this fall for the hunting. I always insist Braeton allow the ladies one day out in the field.”

  Sadly, that invitation would have to be missed. “I thank you, Lady Braeton, but I fear I will be hunting in Virginia this fall.”

  “Really! You cannot mean to leave us so soon. Braeton tells me you and your brother have only just arrived in London.” Lady Braeton’s disappointment was evident as she turned inquiring eyes to her husband. “Braeton, I thought we were to have another lady with us to hunt this October, but Lady Katarina says she will be in the colonies. From what your brother has told us,” she continued to Kat, “I am losing a kindred spirit as far as horses are concerned.”