A Kiss for Lady Mary (28 page)

Kit grinned as Piggott’s complexion deepened. “You didn’t wait for me.”

She raised her brows, looking at him as if he were daft. “
I
didn’t wish to be late. It is
our
wedding breakfast.” Mary made herself comfortable on the dressing-table chair. “Please continue.”

Kit took a breath. This one would have to be right. Wrapping the wide cloth around his neck, he proceeded to tie it, then lowered his jaw down slowly a few times.

Next to him, Piggott frowned. “I don’t recognize that one.”

Glancing at Mary, Kit grinned. “No? It’s Featherton’s Amour.”

Piggott gave a sigh of relief and placed a ruby and diamond tiepin in the snowy folds. After Kit’s jacket was on, he added his pocket watch and quizzing glass.

Mary rose, giving him a glass of champagne. “Congratulations, Mr. Featherton.”

He inclined his head. “Thank you, my lady.” Tossing off his champagne, he held out his arm. “I think we should be on our way.”

They’d been excused from the receiving line in order to make a grand entrance into the ballroom, thus allowing Finella and Cormac to slip away unnoticed.

Later, as they were mingling, Huntley caught Kit’s eye, nodded and raised a glass. Kit bent his head, pressing his lips close to Mary’s ear. “They’re away.”

She smiled, as if he’d whispered a sweet nothing to her, and the couple they were speaking with made a jest about new love.

They ambled around the ballroom until Mary said, “I think Lady Simon might need help.”

Kit glanced over. An older man with a stern scowl appeared to be almost to the lady. “I wonder if he’s a friend of her father’s.”

“I don’t know, but if we can assist her, we should.”

He and Mary arrived in time to hear the gentleman say, “I don’t see your father here.”

Lady Simon raised her chin. “You should know he and Lord Titus are not friendly.”

The man’s jaw moved as if he were chewing a cud. “Where are your children? I haven’t seen them.”

She glanced around as if searching for them. “They are here somewhere. I specifically tasked Cormac with taking care of his sister. If you see them, you may send them to me. We should be leaving soon.”

The older man inclined his head. “I suppose I’ll see you at some of the entertainments.”

“We have decided to go home. Neither my son nor my daughter is having a good time. I believe they are both too young for what the Season has to offer.”

The gentleman’s face reddened. “I’ll talk to your father about that.”

Kit and Mary approached as the man left. Kit snagged a glass of champagne from a passing footman and gave it to Lady Simon. “Who was he?”

“A friend of my father’s. From his reaction, he may be expecting a match with Fee.”

“He—your father”—Mary swallowed—“could not think to see her marry a man that much older than she is.”

“He did it to me.” All the color had drained from Lady Simon’s face.

For a moment Mary also appeared as if she’d be ill. Kit hailed another footman and took a flute of champagne from his tray, pressing it into her hand. “Drink some of this.”

She stared at Lady Simon. “That’s monstrous!”

“I agree.” Kit tightened his grip on her arm. “You’re quite pale, my love. Perhaps Lady Simon would escort you to the ladies’ retiring room?”

“What a wonderful idea.” Mary took the other woman’s arm.

He walked with them to the corridor. “Take your time. When you haven’t returned in five minutes or so, I’ll tell Lady Theo you’re not feeling quite the thing, and make our excuses.” Mary frowned. “She’ll understand when I tell her Lady Simon went with you.”

Squeezing her hand, he whispered, “Go now.”

T
he corridor was empty as Mary and Lady Simon made their way to a door leading to the servants’ area. Once there, they took the back stairs up to the first floor.

“Thank you for your help,” Morna said. “I’m afraid he’ll be watching me.”

“You’re welcome, but it was my husband’s idea. We are more than happy to aid you and your family.” After all she’d been through with her cousin, Mary was surprised she was able to keep her voice even. “I’ve had my own problems with family members.” Once they reached Lady Cavendish’s chamber, Mary took the other woman’s hands in hers. “If there is any way we can serve you, please do not hesitate to ask.”

Morna blinked several times. “Thank you. You have all been so kind to us. Perhaps we’ll see you in London?”

“I look forward to it. We’ll be there for the Little Season.”

After Mary reached her room, she tugged the bell-pull.

Several moments later, Mathers answered. “Are you all right, my lady?”

“I was a little faint, but I’m fine now. Please help me change. I have a feeling I’m going to need a walk.”

Mathers gave her a look, but did as Mary asked.

A half hour later, Kit entered the parlor. “Lord and Lady Simon are going to require a bit more help.”

“After she had that conversation with the older gentleman, I thought that might be the case. What is our role?”

“You need to take the air with your maid. I’ll join you before you reach the end of the garden. Lord Simon will be waiting in a coach right next to the garden gate.”

She donned her bonnet. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Kit pulled her against him. “After looking for you for a year, finding you, then almost losing you due to our misunderstandings, I’m not taking a chance of anything happening to the only woman I could ever love.”

If it was anyone but him saying that, she would not have believed him. “The only one?”

“Yes.” His lips grazed hers. “When we return, I’ll show you how much.”

The sounds of guests leaving the party drifted back to the garden as Mary leaned slightly on Lady Simon, who wore a plain muslin cap and drab woolen cloak, as they made their way to the gate.

They’d almost arrived, when Kit joined them. “The streets leading to and from this side of the square are fouled with carriages. One more won’t be noticed in the crush.” He opened the gate and stepped out. A coach stood right where it should be. Mary bit her lip as Kit jerked the door open, then let out the breath she’d been holding, when Lord Simon appeared in the opening, holding his hand out to his wife.

“Thank you.” He nodded to them.

Once Lady Simon was seated, she gave the first smile Mary had seen on her face. “I thank you as well. I hope we meet again.”

Kit closed the door, tapped on it twice, and the carriage started down the mews. “A good day’s work.”

“I do hope we hear from either them or Lady Theo that they arrived in England safely.”

Snaking his arm around Mary’s waist, he grinned. “That was extremely inventive of you to feign illness.”

“I’m not as clever as you think. I suddenly thought of what would have happened if my cousin had ever got hold of me. He may not be old, but the prospect was equally nauseating.”

“Which reminds me, I need to write to my father with our marriage announcement, and you should write to your brother. I daresay he would like to know you’ve wed.”

A burble of laughter escaped her. “Poor Barham. He’s been kept so much in the dark, he’s completely baffled. I received a letter from him after your father wrote to him, and never did write back.” The marriage announcement was somewhat problematic. “What will you put in the
Post
?”

“Only that we have wed. As you know, my mother has been putting around a story about my leaving Town. I have no idea what she’s said, but knowing her, it will have been vague enough to match any ending.”

Her mother-in-law sounded like a splendid lady. “I look forward to meeting her.”

He held her a bit closer. “She dearly wants to meet you as well. I almost wish we could go straight to Town.”

“No, it’s better to wait until the Little Season. There will not be so many questions, and Diana Brownly will be either safely married or back home.”

Kit and Mary had reached the terrace and entered through the library. He held the door open for her. She stepped in and stopped.

“Uncle Hector, what are you doing here?” Mary exclaimed in the loudest, most strident tone Kit had ever heard her use.

Lord Titus and a gentleman around the same age, or perhaps a bit older, rose.

Lady Theo glanced between Mary and her uncle. “Hector is a petrologist. I meant to tell everyone we’d have another guest, then with all the bother concerning my brother, I must have forgot. I take it you are related?”

Kit pulled out his quizzing glass to intimidate the man if he proved to be a problem. Mary’s uncle was a tall, slender man in his middle age. Touches of white interlaced with the light brown hair at his temples. A pair of spectacles perched on the end of his nose. He glanced up from a map they had been studying. As innocuous as he appeared, this was the man who was responsible for making his wife’s life hell during the past few years.

Hector Tolliver pushed the glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. “Mary.” He smiled benignly. “How wonderful to see you.” His brows pulled together slightly in confusion. “But why are you here, my dear, and not in London for the Season?”

Mary’s chin rose defiantly. “I recently married.”

His brow cleared, and he smiled again. “That’s wonderful, and about time it is. Not that I would want you to wed just anyone to see it done. Did you marry Lord Huntley? Is that the reason you’re here?”

“No no, Hector,” Theo interpolated. “Huntley wed Lady Caro Martindale last autumn. Mr. Featherton, Viscount Featherton’s eldest, is Mary’s husband.”

Kit gave a shallow, stiff bow. “We married yesterday.”

“Splendid. I shall instruct my man of business to wind up the trust.” He nodded several times, more to himself than anyone else. “Still, I don’t understand why Barham didn’t contact me.”

Mary’s jaw dropped, then she shut it so hard her teeth clicked.

This whole conversation was deuced odd. The man acted as if nothing unusual had occurred. Kit cleared his throat. “The trust was ended last week, and the marriage settlements have been signed.”

“Eh?” Tolliver’s brows snapped together. “Did I miss your birthday, Mary? I thought the trust wound up next year. If so, I’m terribly sorry. I meant to particularly remember this one.”

“No, sir.” Kit had heard academics were forgetful, but this was outside of enough. “The trust was ended by court order. I imagine your solicitor will have sent word.”

Tolliver cocked his head to one side, reminding Kit forcibly of a large bird. “I don’t understand. What court case?”

“Oh dear,” Lady Theo said, rising. “Why don’t we all move to the sofas, and I shall ring for tea, and . . . perhaps something stronger.”

She tugged the bell-pull and shooed them all to the area near the fireplace. Kit and Mary sat on a loveseat, which faced a larger sofa.

He placed his lips close to her ear. “I have a feeling this is not at all what we thought.”

“I think you’re right,” she responded in a whisper. “Uncle Hector appears completely baffled. What could have been going on?”

Lord Titus passed around a decanter of finely aged Scotch whisky, and one of sherry. Kit poured a sherry for Mary and Scotch for himself.

Once tea was served, Tolliver fixed Kit with a confused look. “There appears to have been a great deal going on that I’m not aware of. I’d appreciate it if someone would enlighten me.”

Mary slid Kit a glance and nodded.

“Well, sir, it appears quite a lot of chicanery has been going on in your name . . .”

More than half an hour and several cups of tea later, many of them laced with Scotch, Uncle Hector, as he’d asked Kit to call him, dragged a hand down his face. “I must humbly beg your forgiveness, Mary. I had no idea all this was happening. Please trust me when I say, if I had, I would have put a quick stop to it.”

She squeezed Kit’s hand. “None of it ever made sense to me. It just never fit with what I remembered of you.”

Uncle Hector picked up the whisky then placed it back down again. “Nevertheless, I was remiss. I’d like to say I have no idea where Gawain could have come up with such a foolish notion that I would want him to marry you, or that your fund would go to me if you wed against my wishes. He has a trust that is more than sufficient to command the elegancies of life, and has no need of your money. It is strange that, as far as I know, he has not drawn from it. Then again, he lives at home. The plain fact is that if Barham agreed the suitor was a good man, I would have had no objection. I believe it all worked out splendidly in the end.”

“
Grandmamma!
”

The Dowager Duchess of Bridgewater entered the parlor under full sail.

Mary was half out of her seat when Kit pulled her back down, and rose. “Don’t act rashly.”

“I must say, I agree.”

Kit groaned as his grandmother followed closely behind.

“Remember, keep your temper,” Mary said in an under voice, all the while smirking.

He bowed, and Lady Titus greeted the ladies. “My dear duchess, and Lady Featherton, what brings you here, or need I ask?”

“Our grandchildren, naturally,” the Dowager Duchess of Bridgewater responded.

Kit’s grandmother glided up to him, stood on her tiptoes, and bussed his cheek, then patted it. “We were sorry to miss the wedding.”

Lady Theo rang for more tea, and the dowagers took the chairs on either side of the loveseat where Kit and Mary were sitting.

“We would have been here sooner,” Lady Bridgewater said, “but we stopped at Rose Hill hoping to throw Gawain off the track.”

His grandmother frowned. “Despite everything we tried, I believe he may already be here.”

When she turned her attention on Uncle Hector, Lady Bridgewater’s blue eyes turned to shards of ice. “I never would have believed such underhanded dealings from you, Hector. What do you have to say for yourself?”

He blinked, then hung his head, reminding Kit forcibly of a chastised child. Then again, he wouldn’t like coming under her fire either. “I—I was not aware of what was going on. I’ve been so busy with my studies. In fact, the only reason I’m here is that Lord Titus and I are cooperating on a paper for the Royal Society.”

“It’s true, Grandmamma,” Mary said. “He really did not know. He, Lord Titus, and Lady Theo have been traveling from site to site for two years. We just finished telling him all that has occurred.”

They were quiet for several moments until his grandmother pursed her lips and said what at least some of them had been thinking. “It was probably Cordelia. She always was a little strange. Fey, I would call it.”

“You might have something there, my lady,” Hector said. “She always thought my brother would die, leaving me the earldom. I never could convince her it was not what I wished for, but she dearly wanted a title. Sometimes I wonder why she married me at all.”

“Greedy, if you want my opinion.” The duchess scowled.

Uncle Hector’s face turned beet red. “Here now, that is my wife you are talking about.”

Mary straightened her shoulders, and her chin firmed. “That is quite enough.”

Kit pressed his lips together but couldn’t keep one corner of his mouth from twitching up as their eyes turned toward Mary.

She made a sharp cutting motion with her hand. “It’s done. I agree that some people need to be dealt with, but that is for Uncle Hector to do. Name-calling will not help anyone.”

“Well—,” the duchess began.

Mary glared at her grandmother. “Not another word unless it is to congratulate Kit and me or to tell us how Aunt Eunice and Brian are doing.”

“We do congratulate you.” Kit’s grandmother smiled gently, her eyes appearing suspiciously damp. “Your aunt and Mr. Doust are getting along famously. They have already moved into their new home, and we were privileged to stay a few days with them.”

The dowager duchess lifted her cane as if she’d pound it on the floor, and stopped. “Mary, the only thing I have ever wanted is the happiness of my children and grandchildren. I cannot tell you how pleased I am you and Kit have married.”

The storm that was threatening blew over just like that. Kit shook his head, unable to believe how Mary had taken control. Give her a Season or two and he had no doubt she would be on her way to being one of the
ton
’s leaders. “When did you arrive and where are you staying?”

“We are at the King’s Arms. It is the only hotel worth our custom,” Mary’s grandmother said.

His grandmother rolled her eyes. “We arrived to-day, dear, and came directly here. How much longer will you remain in Edinburgh?”

“To-morrow is our last day. Mary and I will repair to Rose Hill for the remainder of the Season.”

His grandmother turned her most engaging smile on Mary. “A wonderful decision. After all, young people in love should have time together. I am so happy to welcome you to the family.”

Mary’s stern countenance transformed into a friendly smile. Quite frankly, no one could resist his grandmother when she wanted to please. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Oh, my dear, you must call me grandmamma. I foresee we will become great friends.”

“Very well, Grandmamma Featherton.”

His grandmother beamed. Mary’s grandmother, however, did not appear as pleased. Kit remembered something his mother used to say about honey and vinegar.

The dowager duchess rose, and everyone else hopped up as well. “We would be pleased if you would join us for an early dinner.”

Apparently Mary had forgiven her grandmother for she grinned. “We’d love to, Grandmamma.”