A Kiss for Lady Mary (14 page)

Caro took Mary’s hands. “He will bring tea soon unless you require something stronger. Come, sit, and you can tell us what has happened.”

She glanced at the door. “Where are your husbands?”

“In the nursery making sure the children are settled.” A sly smile appeared on Anna’s face. “If they arrive too soon, you will show us around your garden.”

Caro sank into the sofa in front of the windows, which was part of several seating areas in the long room.

Shoving a small pillow behind her friend, Mary sighed. “I am a terrible hostess, paying more attention to my concerns instead of my guests.”

“Nonsense,” Caro responded. “We came to help you.”

“Because of my grandmother?” Mary knew it was so; still, she had to ask.

“Both of the grandmothers,” Phoebe said, taking a seat in a chair. “They were about to leave Town and come here when the duchess caught your cousin watching the house.”

Mary dropped onto the sofa next to Caro and covered her face. “Shall I never be shut of him?”

Simons entered, placed the tea tray in front of her, left, and closed the door behind him.

“I don’t know how much time we’ll have before the gentlemen join us.” Anna chose a chair and settled her skirts. “I realize you do not know me that well, but it would help if you told us everything from start to finish.”

Phoebe and Caro’s trust in Anna made Mary resolve to ask for the help she needed. Taking a breath, she straightened her shoulders. “Caro, you know when my cousin began to bother me?” Her friend nodded. “Barham’s first child had just been born, and he didn’t wish to remain in London but would not leave me alone. I went back to the estate with him, but Gawain followed.” She told them about each time she’d thought she had escaped him, only to discover he’d found her and tried to bribe the servants and others in the area. “Finally we let him think he had, and the maid gave him false information. That was when I came to Rose Hill.”

Caro shifted her position so that she faced Mary. “I wish I had known. But you have been safe and contented here?”

“I’ve been happier than I’ve been in a very long time.” She was so thankful to be able to unburden herself. “As all of us were, I was raised to run a great estate. Rose Hill is not quite that, but it gave me an occupation.” Yet another reason Papa would not have betrothed her to Gawain. Uncle Hector did not have a large holding for his son to inherit. She told her friends about her early fears and doubts about the name Featherton, and what occurred when Kit arrived. “He was enraged, as he well should have been, and I was devastated. He was the last person I wanted to see.”

And it didn’t make it easier when he said Rose Hill was her house. He, of all people, knew how untrue that was.

Caro took Mary’s hands. “I remember how you seemed drawn to each other and I was surprised nothing came of it.”

“I had no idea I was so obvious.” Her grandmother had been in London then. Had she noticed Mary’s attraction as well? “I did try to hide it.”

“It was not just you,” Caro said, squeezing Mary’s hand. “He could barely keep his eyes off you.”

That she had not expected to hear. After he ignored her she’d thought him indifferent. “But what am I to do?”

“We know the match was planned by your grandmothers.” Phoebe’s lips formed a thin line. “I do not agree with how they went about it; nevertheless, we must work with what we have.”

Mary pleated and unpleated her skirts, praying that her friends would agree with her plan to avoid an unwanted match. “At first I thought there was no way out of it, but if we find we do not suit, which is beginning to look like the case, I have hit upon a scheme to avoid marrying him.”

The ladies exchanged glances; finally Caro asked, “What is your idea?”

Mary glanced down at the hand Kit had kissed. “I have decided to go abroad to live for a few years. In the event some man attempts to force me to marry him, I’ve instructed my brother and his man of business to draft documents not allowing my husband to have access to any of my property for the duration of his life. Barham has permission to act for me. I realize that is premature, but I would rather have the provisions put in place as soon as I inherit.”

For several moments, the room was so quiet the sound of the clock on the mantel ticking sounded as loud as church bells.

Caro’s brow creased as she pressed gently on Mary’s hand. “Living abroad is not always the answer.”

“Nor is running away,” Phoebe added.

“I must agree.” Anna nodded. “Your best course of action is to confront him with your doubts.” She cocked her head for a moment. “I believe the gentlemen are coming. Let us continue this conversation in the garden.”

Thank God for Anna’s hearing. Mary did not wish to see Kit before she knew what she would do.

Kit opened the door to the drawing room. The tea service was on the table, untouched. Where the devil had the ladies got to? He strode to the window seat and looked out. The women were strolling the garden, two by two, their arms linked.

Huntley came up beside Kit. “Must be a serious discussion if they’ve left without drinking a cup of tea.”

His friend was right. He caught a glimpse of their profiles as they turned a corner. None of them were smiling. “I honestly do not know what I have done.”

“Do you mind if I pour?” Rutherford asked. “I’m a bit peckish.”

Kit shook his head. “Not at all. Once we’ve finished what is on the tray, I’ll ring for something more sustaining.”

“Why not call for it now?” Marcus asked, filling his plate.

“I don’t want the servants to know the ladies did not partake.”

Huntley pushed Kit down onto the window seat. “Give over, man. What the hell is going on here?”

The others pulled up chairs, until they were seated in a semicircle.

Marcus sat. “That’s what I’d like to know as well.”

Taking out his quizzing glass, Rutherford went to the French window. “Agreed. The sooner we know what the problem is, the sooner we can be with our wives.”

It felt strange sitting in Mary’s favorite place. Kit rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know.”

Rutherford’s quizzing glass focused on Kit. “Unfortunate, but not surprising.” He waved his arm to include Huntley and Marcus. “However, you have with you those who have battled the female mind and won.” Huntley rolled his eyes as Rutherford continued. “I believe you must begin at the beginning.”

Huntley pressed a cup of tea into Kit’s hands.

He took a sip. It was better when Mary made it. “I had not visited Rose Hill since I first inherited it . . .”

As he finished the tale, Huntley polished off the last biscuit. “You wish to marry her?”

“In a word, yes.” Kit put down the cup of cold tea. “I’ve been attempting to woo her, but, as I said, I’ve done something wrong and do not know how to get this courtship back on track.”

Rutherford went to the door and spoke to whoever was in the corridor. Kit almost grinned at his friend taking charge of the food. At least he didn’t have to worry about them making themselves at home, and considering the problems he faced with Mary, that was good.

Marcus sauntered over to the sideboard, filled four glasses, and came back with two, one of which he gave to Kit. “Sherry. I have found it is better for cognition than brandy.”

After the other two men had their drinks, Kit continued. “Just when I think we’re becoming closer, she backs away.”

“What does she do when you kiss her?” Marcus asked.

“
Kiss her!
” Kit jumped up and began pacing the room. He was at the end of his rope. “I’ve been doing my best
not
to kiss her. Good Lord. Mary has been through enough without me acting like a raging beast. Look at what happened when Beaumont followed his basest instincts and compromised Serena.” He shook his head. “No, I will not do the same. I have vowed not to touch her until she agrees to marry me.”

“In case you haven’t noticed”—Huntley held his glass up, tilting it, looking at the amber liquid—“she has already been compromised. One word to the wrong person, to anyone in the
ton
, and everyone will know she has been living here as your wife. With your reputation as the perfect gentleman, the gossip will be vicious.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Shades of his dead brother rose in Kit’s mind and he downed half of his glass in one gulp. It was time to admit what bothered him the most. “Mary has no interest in kissing me.”

His friends stared at him, stunned. He drained his glass, waiting to hear what they’d advise him to do next.

“K
it will never fall in love with me.” Mary blinked away the tears pricking her eyelids. She’d wanted to be able to talk about how she felt, but now every nerve was stretched to the breaking point.

After a few moments, Phoebe slowly shook her head. “I do not believe it.”

“Neither do I.” Caro pulled a branch of a lilac bush down, inhaling. “He still looks at you the same way he did before.”

“I agree with Phoebe and Caro,” Anna said. “What makes you think he’s not interested in you?”

“Most of his compliments are on how well I have managed the estate. He has never told me I look pretty or even nice.”

“I realize Kit is reserved, but that is ridiculous,” Phoebe said with disgust.

Anna cast her eyes at the clouds. “What a slow-top.”

“I’m not so sure.” Caro ran her hand over the privet hedge, releasing its fragrance. “By praising you on what you’ve accomplished, rather than your beauty, such as another man might, he probably does think he
is
being considerate of you.”

“Kit is very proper,” Anna added. “Other than his mother and sisters, I doubt he has told any lady that she looks pretty. He might be waiting for a sign from you.”

“But he hasn’t even tried to kiss me.” There, it was out. What a horrible admission to have to make even to one’s friends. Men were supposed to want to kiss women.

This was too much. Mary plopped down on one of the new benches she’d had built. “I’ve all but thrown myself at him. I don’t know what more to do.”

Phoebe raised a brow. “Are you saying you have attempted to kiss him, and he has refused?”

“No. Of course not.” Mary hated pouting and that’s exactly what she was doing. “What do I know of kissing, other than being slobbered upon by Gawain or some other man in an attempt to compromise me?”

Anna grinned. “I have a book—”

“
No!
” Phoebe said firmly. “You and Rutherford had done much more than kissing when you started with the book. You would give poor Kit apoplexy.”

Caro’s eyes widened. “Book? Why haven’t I heard about the book?”

“Anna can tell you about it later.” Phoebe’s lips curled up into a smile. “It is very interesting, but this is not the time for it.”

“Very well.” Anna heaved a sigh. “I still think Mary should attempt to seduce Kit.”

“You know,” Caro said thoughtfully, “that is not a bad idea.”

Mary’s face was heating to the point that she knew she was bright red. “Sed . . .” Suddenly her mouth was dry. “Seduce him?”

“Only if you love him.” Phoebe let the words hang in the air for a few moments. “You did say you like him a great deal.”

“Well, I think—just think, mind you—that I may love him a little.” Mary desperately wanted one of her grandmother’s teas with brandy. “Do you truly think he likes me?”

“I believe he’s in love,” Phoebe said.

Anna nodded. “Or very close to it.”

“I agree.” Caro glanced toward the house. “Shall we join the gentlemen?”

Mary couldn’t very well protest when it was clear by the expressions on her friends’ faces they wanted to see their husbands.

If that was love, she wanted it, desperately. Still, if her friends were right and Kit loved her, that changed everything. Never let it be said a Tolliver allowed love to slip through her fingers. Now all she had to do was to figure out how to kiss him, or get him to kiss her. Then she’d know if they would suit. Though the fact remained, he had to at least give her a sign he would welcome her affection.

 

Kit looked out the window as Mary and the rest of the ladies returned. Her chin had a mulish cast, and he wished he knew what the others had said to her.

“Have you told her how lovely you think she is?” Marcus asked as he glanced out the window.

Kit dragged his gaze from her. “That would be forward.”

“Good God, man.” Huntley dropped his head into his hands. “Every woman likes to be complimented.”

That wasn’t fair. Kit did flatter her. He sniffed. “I do. I tell her what an excellent job she’s done with Rose Hill.”

“We could just take him out and shoot him now,” Rutherford said to no one in particular. “It would put him out of his misery and ours.”

“It’s a good thing”—Marcus gave a rueful smile—“you have us here to help you.”

Huntley refilled Kit’s glass. “When being courted, a lady wants to be told she is beautiful and desirable,
not
that she is a good land steward.”

“They also need to be kissed.” Rutherford shook his head in disgust when Kit scowled. “I think you’re making a mistake. The normal rules of polite behavior do not apply to courting, but if you’re not going to kiss her, then you must figure out some way to be more attentive. She probably doesn’t realize you’re even interested in her.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss Mary. Her lips drew him like a siren’s call, but he’d made a habit of correct behavior, and his friends’ advice went against everything he considered honorable. On the other hand, he was becoming desperate, and they could be right. What if he had given her the wrong idea?

“Very well.” Kit took a swallow of the sherry. “I will do as you suggest. If she slaps me, I’ll blame it on you.”

“Here they come.” Huntley grabbed the tumbler from Kit’s hand. “Now tell her how much the fresh air agrees with her. That she has roses in her cheeks or something like that.”

The door opened and the ladies strolled in, all of them but Mary with broad smiles for their men. Kit moved toward her, took her hand, and gave her his most charming smile. “How lovely you look. The fresh air agrees with you.”

Her eyes widened, and her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “Thank you.”

Well, perhaps not so much of an idiot. She seemed to enjoy the accolade, and she hadn’t even looked as if she wanted to hit him. This wasn’t so bad after all. “I’m afraid we finished off the tea. Would you care for some more?”

He curled her fingers around his.

She glanced at the remnants of the tea tray. “I am a bit sharp-set.”

A quarter hour later, another pot of tea arrived accompanied by some sort of grilled cake. “What is this?”

Mary’s eyes danced. “Cook must have thought we were hungry. They are singing hinnies, and this”—she pointed at a slice of cake—“is a spice cake. Cook is famous for it.”

Their friends gathered round for tea and food.

Once Kit had passed cups and plates to everyone he bit into the singing hinny. It tasted of butter, fried scone, and raisins. Could anything be better? “These are wonderful. I’m so glad you encourage Cook to make local foods.” Damn. Now he was complimenting her for her housewifery. “I mean—”

Mary put her hand on his arm, and her voice was soft, as if she wanted only him to hear her. “It’s all right. I know gentlemen love their food.”

Ah, progress. She’d never touched him first before. Who would have believed a compliment could accomplish so much? He’d have to do that more often.

“That is not the only thing we love.” Where in the hell did that come from?

She gazed at him quizzically, but before either of them could respond, Rutherford called out, “These are excellent. We must have this receipt.”

“I shall have Cook write it out for you.” Mary glanced at her watch, and rose. “If we don’t prepare for dinner soon though, we’ll be in her black books.”

Confound it all. The moment was lost. Kit stood as well. “We will be along shortly.” He waited until the last skirt disappeared out the door. “I’d say that went well.”

Marcus raised a brow. “You’d better fix her attention soon.”

“Of course I shall. The quicker we’re married the better this situation will be.”

“I don’t think that is exactly what Marcus is saying.” Huntley rubbed his forehead. “If you cannot convince her being your wife is a better option, your Lady Mary has a plan to avoid the parson’s mousetrap.”

“
Not wed?
” The ramifications were too horrible to contemplate. Not only would she be ruined, he would be as well, and that would affect his sisters, particularly Meg. “That is not possible. My mother is already at work smoothing over any hint of a scandal.”

Rutherford groaned. “Have you told Lady Mary that?”

“Of course not. I saw no need.” And he damn sure wasn’t going to tell her now. She’d consider it part of a trap. “What did she say?”

Huntley explained her idea, and Kit felt the blood draining from his head. If she ran off he’d have the devil of a time finding her. Just the thought of her alone in a foreign country chilled him. Damn it all, they would marry, and soon. Either that or he’d make his Grand Tour chasing her around Europe.

 

Mary sipped her sherry. “I just want to go to Paris for the Season.”

After the ladies had bathed and changed, they’d reconvened in her parlor.

“Gossip and other news travels very quickly between Paris and London. With your cousin lying in wait for you, he could easily discover your location,” Phoebe stated firmly. “Being in a foreign country with him would only add to your problems.”

There were times when Phoebe could be annoyingly right, and Mary knew she was acting childishly. Still, it was difficult to give up something she’d had her heart set on for years now: A Season where she could fall in love.

Caro’s brow pleated as she studied Mary. “Does it have to be in Paris?”

Other than London, Paris was the only place she’d ever considered. She took another sip of sherry. “Where else could I go? Vienna? I hear many of the
ton
like it there.”

“Edinburgh,” Caro said. “Of course the Season is not as large, but it
is
an option, and not as far as France or Austria.”

Anna moved to the edge of the wide cane-backed chair. “That’s perfect. Your cousin will never find you in Scotland.”

Mary had never even considered Edinburgh. Before Lady Bellamny had offered to take Diana for the Season, the Brownlys had discussed Edinburgh. There were balls and assembly rooms, and who knew what else. Except . . . “I don’t know anyone there. Where would I reside? Who would sponsor me?”

Caro set her glass down and leaned slightly forward, hindered by the child she carried. “We are going to visit Gervais’s aunt and uncle, Lord Titus and Lady Theo Grantham. Lady Theo is the youngest daughter of the Duke of Gordon. They have a large house in the new part of the city.” Caro grinned. “From my correspondence with Lady Theo, I’m sure they would welcome more company.” She glanced at Phoebe then Anna. “In fact, we can all go. I shall write to her immediately after dinner and should receive the answer in a day or so.”

Mary stared at Caro. Her eyes glowed and excitement swirled around her. She had been denied a whole Season, but had still found love. The scheme had much to offer. Granted, Edinburgh wasn’t London, but it was a capital. Mary would have her friends with her; she wouldn’t come across anyone who knew her as Lady Mary Featherton; and they were correct, Gawain would never think to look for her there. Not only that, but she’d heard interesting things about Scottish men. If she and Mr. Featherton didn’t suit . . . Perhaps this was meant to be. “What a wonderful idea. If you wish you may use my escritoire and write the letter now.”

Once Caro had sealed the missive, Mary sent it down to be posted by special messenger. She wondered what Kit would think of the plan. No matter, she was going in any event. If he chose to come, he was welcome to accompany them.

 

The next morning, Kit was in the game room organizing the fishing rods, when Huntley joined him. “The gear looks to be in good condition, and I have enough rods for everyone.”

“Any idea what fish is most prevalent here?”

“Mostly trout,” Kit said over his shoulder as he fixed a hook to one of the lines.

“I don’t suppose you’ve spoken with Lady Mary this morning?”

He turned. When he’d received the message the ladies were breaking their fast in the nursery, he’d not thought it strange, yet now . . . was something wrong? “No, I have not. If you have something to say, open your budget.”

“Caro wrote to my aunt yesterday. She and I were already going to Edinburgh. Now there’s a plan afoot for all of us to visit the city for a few weeks.”

Which meant Mary wasn’t bolting to the Continent, at least not yet. “Indeed.”

Huntley lounged against a wall, swinging his quizzing glass. “You’re invited as well. It might be to your benefit. No one can deny you show to advantage at entertainments. She’d see you at your best.”

As if Kit was a horse on sale at Tattersall’s. “You might have something there.” Mary was an Incomparable, and Kit had no doubt the Scottish men would be all over her. Competition, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Surely she wouldn’t actually want one of them as a husband. In any event, he’d make sure none of them got too close to her. “When do we depart?”

“I expect an answer by late to-morrow. I’m sure the ladies will wish to leave a day or so afterward.”

“Is there a possibility your aunt will not be able to accommodate us?”

His friend grinned. “Not a chance in the world. Uncle Titus has had her trooping all over ‘those blasted rock sites,’ as she calls them. Although she enjoys it immensely, she’s more than ready for female companionship and parties.” Huntley stopped playing with his glass. “Aunt Theo will also be extremely happy to try to find a match for Lady Mary.”

Kit wasn’t aware he’d clenched his jaw until a dull ache began. “Your aunt needn’t bother. Mary will wed me.”

Huntley grabbed three of the fishing rods and strode to the door. “Naturally. Just like the biddable lady she is.”

Kit slammed his fist on the table. “Hell and damnation!”

Huntley’s laughter floated down the corridor. Lady Mary Tolliver would marry Kit no matter what. She cared for him, and he more than cared for her. Somehow he’d bring her up to scratch.