A Kiss for Lady Mary (13 page)

Maybe he should just stop now.

“In fact, two of the families normally do quite well. I have included hard bonbons for the children and a tisane for one of the ladies who suffers from flatulence.”

He reached into the pouch he carried, pulling out a handful of candy. “Such as these?”

“Yes.” She rewarded him with a smile. “I predict you’ll become popular with all the children.”

As long as he could please her, he would have achieved his purpose. He handed her into the conveyance. “Will you drive, or shall I?”

“You may. I find I like being a passenger. Aunt Eunice never likes to tool the wagon.”

Now that she had mentioned her, Kit had noticed Lady Eunice had been absent of late. “Where is your aunt?”

Mary’s brow crinkled. “I’m not sure. Normally she is down for breakfast before I leave.”

The woman damn well needed to be there during breakfast. Especially after what almost happened this morning.

Less than fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the Robson cottage. The children, remembering him from yesterday, ran out to greet them. Although they were too well mannered to ask for the sweets, the youngest, whom Kit judged to be around four years old, wrapped her arm around his leg and beamed up at him.

“Annan,” a frustrated voice called from the cottage, “git yer hands off the master.”

Lifting the girl into his arms, Kit called back, “Please, Mrs. Robson, don’t let it bother you.”

He reached into the purse he’d left in the wagon, drawing out a handful of the bonbons. He handed one to her, then divided the others among her brothers and sisters. Eight children—the house didn’t seem large enough. Still holding Annan, he whispered in Mary’s ear, “Do they require an addition?”

She smiled. “If you look in the back, you will see it has recently been enlarged.”

“Thank you.”

A sudden blush infused her cheeks, and she grabbed the basket, hurrying toward Mrs. Robson. Now, if he only knew if she was pleased with his approbation or he’d embarrassed her.

It took most of the day to complete their rounds, but since they were offered everything from tea to cheese and bread at every stop, neither of them was hungry when they returned home.

Home
.

Kit had never before thought of Rose Hill as his home, yet Mary did, and even if he had a choice, he would not take the property away from her.

All day long he’d fought himself from taking her into his arms. He lifted her down from the wagon and struggled to remove his hands from her waist. She stared up at him, her gray eyes searching his, and his chest tightened. God, how he wanted to kiss her, run his hands through her golden hair.

One finger at a time, he released her. “We should go in now.”

Her lashes lowered and she turned toward the steps. “I shall see you before dinner.”

What he needed was a cold bath. That evening he made sure he was the last one down. Kit no longer trusted himself to be alone with his prospective wife. No matter how drawn to Mary he was, he would not behave as his brother had.

Shortly before seven o’clock in the evening, Gawain Tolliver entered a clean, neat tavern in the City, not far from the ’Change. He understood why bankers would patronize the place. It reminded him of an orderly account ledger. Spying an empty table in the back, he strolled to it and ordered a coffee.

Late yesterday, a clerk who worked at Hoare’s Bank, Mr. Beacon, whom Gawain convinced to help him find Cousin Mary, had sent a note around. The man had been reluctant to assist until Gawain wove a story telling the man that her family was concerned, as Lady Mary had not been in touch with anyone for several months. Thankfully, Mr. Beacon’s opinion of females’ abilities to take care of themselves was not high.

As the church bells of St. Paul’s tolled the hour, a spare, middle-aged man entered the tavern. Beacon slid onto the seat across from Gawain. He took off his spectacles, wiping them thoroughly with a cloth before replacing them on his face. “I do not know how much help the information I have found will be to you. The funds are transferred to the Bank of Scotland in Edinburgh. You would need to contact them to be provided with more information as to your cousin’s whereabouts.”

Gawain wiped his brow and heaved a huge sigh. That was more information than he’d had in months. “I thank you. The family thanks you. Surely we will be able to discover her whereabouts now.”

The clerk stood and bowed. “It was my pleasure to assist. I trust her elders will give the young woman a good talking-to when you find her.”

“Yes, they certainly shall.” He rose, and shook the man’s hand. “Again, you have our thanks. You were our last hope.”

Mr. Beacon flushed. “I wish I could have been of more aid. Well, good-bye and good luck.”

Gawain retook his seat and slowly drank his coffee. Was Mary really in Scotland? Or was this simply another wild-goose chase to keep him busy until she could find a husband? If his cousin weren’t so headstrong, he would suspect the dowager of making a match for her. Then again, she’d need to be somewhere there was at least some sort of Marriage Mart, and surely the dowager would insist on being there with Mary. After all, an established lady with connections had to sponsor her.

Edinburgh had a Season. Not as large or refined as London’s, but Mary might think it was better than nothing. He’d just have to wait until the dowager made a move and led him to his soon-to-be wife.

“Sir.”

Gawain glanced up. His groom had a wide grin on his face.

“The old lady is getting ready to leave. I sent a message to have your things packed.”

“Finally. Get the boy we’ve had watching the house. We’ll take him with us. He can be useful. It won’t do to let her know I’m following.”

 

 

 

“Is he still following us?” Lucinda lowered herself carefully into a chair in their private parlor. A fire roared in the fireplace, and the room was warm enough, but her old body wasn’t what it used to be. Riding in a coach for hours over the past week hadn’t helped either. Blasted roads. One would think with the tolls the government charged they would be in better repair.

“That’s what Athey said,” Constance replied, leaning on her cane just a bit too heavily.

“You are making sure she is in no danger?” Not that Lucinda thought the girl would come to harm, but when her friend was focused on something . . .

“She is well protected. There is at least one footman with her at all times.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a more tenacious young man.”

Constance gave a basilisk stare. “With sixty thousand at stake? I’m only surprised he hasn’t done more.”

Lucinda took a sip of the excellent claret. The George was known for the quality of its cellars. “I’m wondering if we haven’t been the slightest bit ham-handed with Kit and Mary.”

“What do you mean?” Constance sniffed her wine before taking a sip.

“Well, dear, we were both able to arrange matches for our children and many of our grandchildren without anyone being the wiser . . .” Lucinda left her sentence hanging. It was always better to allow Constance to figure things out for herself.

“I see your point. They will come to the conclusion that we masterminded the scheme.” She heaved a sigh. “I know Mary has romantic ideas, but honestly, I do not know what else we could have done. Allowing Gawain Tolliver to get his hands on her was not an option.”

“I would like to see my great-grandchildren,” Lucinda prodded gently.

“Never fear. Once they discover they were meant for each other, they will come around.” Constance’s tone was bracing but not convincing.

“I do hope so. From the last letter Featherton received from Kit, it appears he is not happy with the situation.”

A sharp tap sounded on the door and dinner was brought in. Footmen assisted Lucinda and Constance to the dining table. Perhaps she was right and the children would forgive them. Now, if they could only get rid of the ogre. Mayhap they could arrange for young Mr. Tolliver to have a carriage mishap someplace in an area several miles from a coaching house. In fact, that was an excellent idea. She’d speak with the coachman after dinner.

 

Gawain sat in the common room of the inn across from the George. Even if he’d had the funds, he couldn’t have stayed there. Hell, he couldn’t even afford to bring the boy he was using to watch the duchess. Who would have thought the lad’s mother would demand twenty-five pounds for the urchin. Five days and the dowagers had only traveled thirty miles from London. Where the hell were they going? It couldn’t be back to the dower house; he had bribed one of the villagers to watch and there were no preparations being made.

Even his mother agreed that Mary wouldn’t go into Polite Society until her grandmother was with her. Unless she planned on joining the old ladies somewhere along the road. Now that would be convenient. He’d follow them and snatch her the moment she was alone.

He took a pull of the bitter local ale. If only his mother was right and Mary had taken up with a man. That would settle all their problems. Even if she waited to wed him, he’d be able to blackmail her. Not everything he wanted, but a damn sight better than nothing. He took another drink and frowned. He wished he didn’t have to marry her, but the money would make up for a lot. Perhaps he could find a gentleman to seduce Mary and convince her to wed him before her birthday? Then he’d have the money. He’d have to pay a goodly sum, but it might be better than having a shrew to wife. Yet, who could he get to do it who would wait for payment?

M
ary sat in the window seat of her parlor, staring out at the garden. It had been three days since she and Kit had gone on the picnic, and although he was very attentive and everything one could expect from a gentleman, something was wrong. She had made sure he’d had several opportunities to kiss her, and just when she thought he would, nothing happened. He had to kiss her. Otherwise she wouldn’t know if she could love him or he could love her.

This was very much the same as when she’d thought he would ask her to dance during her first and only full Season. If he was finding it that difficult to like her enough to kiss her she didn’t want him. She’d be no man’s penance.

Was it only the possibility of scandal that made him want to marry her? She cast her mind back over all their conversations. He apparently didn’t require her money, albeit no one would turn down such a fortune. He’d complimented her housekeeping, but never her appearance. Even her blackguard cousin had done that, for all the good it did him. Perhaps Kit didn’t find her pleasing. She’d always been held to be pretty, some had even said beautiful. Two gentlemen had offered for her that Season only because of her appearance, or at least that was what all the poems they had written to her had been about. Papa had been alive then to protect her from the fortune hunters, and there had been several of them. What a lowering thought that Kit may not think her even passable. Maybe he preferred ladies with dark hair and eyes.

What else had he praised her for? He loved what she’d done in the garden and the property.
Her estate management
. Kit remarked on that more than anything else. He had said Featherton wives always brought something to the family. Was that the reason he was content to wed her? If so, he was no better than the others who wanted her solely for her looks or her dowry. Why couldn’t a man love her for herself? Why did there always have to be another reason? Well, she would not be married for her housewifery.

Still, that begged the question of whether she loved Kit or could love him. She liked that he took responsibility. He had even owned up to neglecting Rose Hill. He had a good sense of humor. He enjoyed gossip and admitted it. Not many of the gentlemen she knew, the number being pitifully small, would ever disclose that. He was kind to her and to their tenants, especially to the children, and the servants. It must mean something that she wanted to kiss him. If only he would oblige her by kissing her, she would know if she loved him, and more importantly if he loved her.

“My lady?”

“What is it, Mathers?”

“It’s time to dress for dinner. Shall I put out the deep rose?”

“That’s fine.”

“What’s got you so blue deviled?”

“Nothing. I’m just trying to figure something out.”

“Mayhap Mr. Featherton could help.”

No, no, no! He was the last person she could turn to. Mary frowned. “I don’t think so. That is who I’m having problems with.”

Mathers stilled. “He hasn’t—”

“Oh, good gracious no!” Mary shook her head. “That’s part of the problem.”

Her dresser sniffed. “I think you’ve been reading too many of those romance novels.”

She would not go round and round with her maid about that. The only things Mathers read were sermons and improving works. “I do not wish to discuss it.”

Her maid muttered something about young ladies going to the devil. “Let me untie this gown and get you into the other.”

 

When Mary entered the drawing room, Eunice and Mr. Doust were in conversation, and Kit stood off by himself, holding a glass of sherry loosely in his fingers. She pasted a smile on her face. “Good evening.”

He came to her immediately, took her hand, and raised it. “I was beginning to worry something might be amiss.”

Mary met his gaze as he searched her face. He
had
been concerned. Did he really care about her? “I could not decide what to wear.” A small smile appeared on his lips. Oh, those lips. She’d dreamed about them last night and had woken kissing her pillow. He touched them to her fingers, and she thought she’d gone to heaven. “I am sorry for being late.”

“You could never be late. I told Simons to put dinner back for a quarter hour.”

No wonder her dresser had been in a hurry. She was always on time. What was happening to her? “Thank you.”

Wrong. This was all wrong. She thought she might be falling in love, and he did not love her at all. Perhaps she should tell him she had found a way out of their grandmothers’ trap. But then everything would be even more uncomfortable than it already was, and their friends were arriving soon.

What a pickle! Perhaps when Phoebe, Anna, and Caro left for Edinburgh, Mary would go with them. Away from Mr. Perfect and all her less-than-perfect feelings.

Kit placed Mary’s hand on his arm. Damn if he hadn’t fallen in love with her. He dreamt of nothing else but her. He couldn’t even remember what had occupied his dreams before Mary had come into his life.

Last night he’d wanted to open the door between their chambers and show her how much he desired her. If they had been alone, he would have run his fingers through her hair, allowing it to fall down her back. That it was long, he’d surmised, but did it flow to her waist or her hips? How he wanted to feel its silky texture, bury his nose in it and fill his senses with her scent.

He would have fused his lips to hers, nipped and licked his way down her graceful neck, then to the sensitive base. Kit wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman before. How many times now had he almost kissed her? But to act on his desires would be to dishonor her, and he could not do that to the lady for whom he cared so much. If only he knew she had the same feelings for him as he did for her, then he could propose and put himself out of this misery. “What do you have planned for dinner to-night?”

She dropped her gaze, and when she spoke, her voice was toneless. “I only remember we have cockle soup to start.”

Drat it all, somehow he’d hurt her. He’d rather take a knife to his gut than injure her in any way at all. “It sounds wonderful.”

When Mary tugged her hand, he let it go. “As you are aware,” she said in a sour tone, “I am a good housewife.” She turned to Doust and smiled. “What a pleasure to have you join us again.”

He slanted a glance at Eunice. “The pleasure, my lady, is all mine. I hope I have not outworn my welcome.”

“No, indeed. We enjoy your company.”

At least Doust and Lady Eunice were happy. Kit was about to drag Mary out of the room and find out what the devil he’d done, when Simons saved Kit from himself. “Dinner is served.”

Kit placed Mary’s hand on his arm. She shivered as a spark ran up his arm. “Are you cold?”

“A little.”

He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her to his side. “I am told I’m a warm fellow.”

The jest appeared lost on her. “You are. I should have brought my shawl.” She moved away. “We should go in. I do not want Cook to be upset.”

The soup was good, as was the rest of the meal, yet with Doust and Lady Eunice making sheep eyes at each other and in general behaving like April and May, and Mary avoiding meeting Kit’s eyes, it was the longest meal of his life. For the first time, he was relieved when she stood, signaling an end to dinner. By the time he entered the drawing room, Mary had gone.

Perhaps it was a good thing his friends were due in a day or two. Somehow he’d managed to get on her bad side, and he didn’t even know how he’d done it.

Hell
. This courting business was a deuced sight harder than he’d thought it would be.

 

Around eleven in the morning the next day, one of the younger footmen skidded to a stop on the polished oak floor in front of Kit. “Sir, there’s a mess of coaches coming up the drive.”

Reinforcements. Finally. He was fully prepared to be the butt of his friends’ jokes if they could just tell him how to go on with Mary. “Go find her ladyship and tell her she is wanted in the hall.”

The lad bowed. “Right away, sir.”

Several minutes later, Mary came from the back of the house. Kit was at the door when she joined him. “What is it? Jemmy was out of breath when he got to me.”

Moving to her side, Kit placed his hand on the small of her back. For a moment she leaned into it, then stopped. If only he could ask her what was wrong, but he doubted she would tell him. “It appears our guests have arrived.”

Mary’s face lit up like the fireworks at Vauxhall. “I can’t wait. It has been so long since I’ve been able to spend any time with them. All I’ve had is letters.”

Kit hadn’t before considered how lonely her life must have been during the past few years. If she gave him the opportunity, he would ensure she was never isolated again. “Simons, open the door.” He placed her hand on his arm. “Shall we, my lady?”

“Yes, let’s.” Her smile grew wide, and he ground his teeth, wishing her happiness was directed at him.

They strolled through the doorway just as a team of gleaming, perfectly matched blacks came stamping to a halt. Three gentlemen on horseback rode up to the wide, shallow granite steps. Two had small children strapped to them. He grinned. That was one way to do it. When the third carriage stopped, the door opened and two women piled out, quickly making their way to the horses.

Simons was about to open the lead coach’s door when Marcus called out, “Here, take him and give him to his nurse. I’ll get my lady.”

Kit fought the urge to chuckle as Arthur was handed to the butler.

Mary giggled, covering her mouth as she did. “I should not have laughed.”

“I don’t know.” Kit bit off his laugh. He doubted the butler would enjoy being the object of amusement. “The sight of your butler holding Arthur out as if he doesn’t know what to do with the lad is quite entertaining.”

Fortunately, the child’s nurse was right there to take him.

“It is. Oh no, now he has the other one.”

“That’s Ben. Anna and Rutherford’s boy.”

By the time Ben was in Simons’s hands, Marcus was handing Phoebe down from the carriage.

Mary rushed forward. “Phoebe.”

Soon Mary was crushed in her friend’s embrace, then handed off to Caro and Anna. As the ladies hugged and kissed, the gentlemen came to greet Kit.

He clasped Marcus’s hand. “How was the trip here?”

“About as expected with two young boys. How goes the courtship?”

Kit grimaced. “For a day or two I thought I was doing well, then something happened yesterday, and she’s been distant ever since.”

“Women are the very devil to figure out.” Huntley clapped Kit on the back. “But we’re here to help.”

“That’s the truth.” Rutherford shook Kit’s hand. “I’m sure the ladies will aid the cause as well. They’ve been worried about Lady Mary.”

“They are not the only ones.” Kit ran a hand over his face. “Come in and get settled. I’m sure Mary will have ordered tea.” He lowered his voice so that only his friends could hear. “Remember the servants believe us to be man and wife.”

“That has got to be awkward for you,” Huntley said.

“You have no idea,” Kit responded in an undervoice. It also might be one reason this courtship was not going as well as it should.

The ladies joined them, and they made their way into the hall.

“The house is cozy in a way that reminds me of Marsh Hill.” Anna turned to Mary. “It’s wonderful.”

“What a lovely abode,” Caro exclaimed. “It is the perfect size. Large enough to entertain friends yet small enough to not become lost in.”

Huntley put his arm around his wife’s waist, and shook his head. “That is a story for another time. You’ll note this house was not added on to, higgledy piggledy.”

Mary’s lips twitched. “Your home in Suffolk?”

“The very one.” Caro closed her eyes for a moment. “Apparently no one thought to build up, rather than out. It rambles so badly we can use only half the rooms, if that.”

“Can you remodel?” Mary signaled for everyone to follow her.

“Therein lies the problem. It is not ours to do with as we wish. Gervais is in delicate negotiations with his father, who, unfortunately, likes the building as it is.”

The conversations on old houses and the best way to modernize them continued until Kit’s and Mary’s guests were settled in their chambers.

In the corridor outside of her chambers, Kit took one of her hands and kissed the palm, curling her fingers around it. “The drawing room or the morning room?”

She glanced down at her fist then looked up, searching his face as if confused. “The drawing room. I’ll show them the rest of the house to-morrow. Unless you’d rather—”

“It is your home,” Kit said, meaning every word. He had never been drawn to this property before, but Mary had made it into a warm, welcoming home. Of its own volition his head bent to kiss her. He pulled it up sharply. What the hell was he doing? “It would probably confuse the servants if you did not do it.”

The soft expression left her countenance, and she pressed her lips together before turning on her heel and marching back down the stairs. “Naturally, we would not wish to upset the servants.”

He gave thanks to the Deity he’d not given in to his impulse. She probably would have slapped him.

 

“Ooooh, of all the infuriating, godforsaken men. Why did he have to come into my life?” Pacing the length of the drawing room, Mary ranted to herself. “Well, that’s a stupid question. My grandmother is to blame, and once she arrives, I’m going to give her a good piece of my mind. I never should have gone along with this—this stupid idea.” She turned to pace back down the room when the door opened.

Simons gave the most formal bow she’d ever seen him perform. “My lady, the Countess of Evesham, the Countess of Huntley, and Lady Rutherford wish to see you.”

Once the door was closed, Phoebe glanced around. “We heard you talking and did not know if you were alone. Yet before we could knock, your butler showed us in.”