A Kiss for Lady Mary (9 page)

He and the rector stood. “Good night.”

Doust reached out, taking her hand. “I’ll take my leave now. Walk me to the door, if you will, my lady.”

She smiled. “Gladly.”

Cursing Mary’s and his grandmothers, Kit made his way to his bedchamber. He began engaging in what-ifs. What if they’d brought Lady Mary to Town, where he could and would have courted her? But that wouldn’t do anyone any good now. He’d have to deal with what he had, and she wasn’t going to make this easy for him. “Piggott,” Kit said, opening the door, “I have a job for you.”

His valet paused in the midst of polishing Kit’s boots. “What would that be, sir?”

“Have a talk with Lady Mary’s dresser, and find out what her ladyship’s tastes are.”

“Are you planning to court her ladyship?”

Kit drained his glass. “I am, and I must do so quickly.”

Before word got out and there was a scandal that could not be contained.

T
he next day turned to rain. Feeling as low as the clouds overhead, Mary decided to remain in her room and pretend she had the headache. Mathers ferried messages from Cook and her housekeeper, brought meals on trays, and made cryptic remarks about those who should know better. Mary did not ask, indeed she didn’t want to know. Instead of hiding away and moping, she would be better occupied doing something, anything. Making plans, writing lists. But the more she considered the problem, the harder it was to see her way out of this mess without creating just the sort of talk that would ruin her.

On the afternoon of the following day she sat on the sofa pretending to read as she gazed out her window over her newly planted garden. Perhaps a ride would help. She could sneak down the back stairs and out the side door. What she couldn’t continue to do was stay in her chambers, yet neither could she face Mr. Featherton. What had possessed her to behave so rudely? Oh yes, her sensitivity. There was only one thing to do, and the sooner the better.

The door opened. Eunice entered, followed by Simons with a tea tray.

Mary waited until he’d left, before announcing, “We shall depart early to-morrow.”

“No, we will not.” Eunice sat on a chair next to the sofa where Mary was ensconced. “Where would you go?”

“London. I’ll join Grandmamma at Bridgewater House.”

“What if Gawain is watching it? He must be in a panic by now, and what if you run into Diana, and she tells someone you are Lady Mary Featherton?” Mary shuddered as her aunt continued without mercy. “Mr. Featherton’s departure during the Season is probably a topic of discussion. He is quite well-known.”

Everything her aunt said was true. Still . . . “Then I’ll go elsewhere.” She fought the tears threatening to fall. “I just cannot stay here. It is impossible!”

“You must.” Eunice’s tone was as cold as ice. Lines bracketed her mouth. “The servants are already beginning to talk. You are a Tolliver. Behave like one and not some missish—”

“That is enough.” Mr. Featherton’s firm tone caused Mary to jump and Eunice to stop talking. He strode across the room to them. “Lady Mary, allow me to call your maid. We shall say you are still in bed with a sick headache.”

That wasn’t far from the truth. Her nose started to run, and he handed her his handkerchief. At least she wasn’t weeping.

Her aunt’s lips formed a thin line. “She must realize . . .”

Mr. Featherton glanced over his shoulder. “She will, but this is not the way to do it.” He pulled a chair to the other side of the sofa from Eunice, then rubbed his large palms up and down Mary’s arms, warming them. “Lady Mary, will you drink some tea? It might help.”

Trapped, she was completely trapped, but at least he wasn’t yelling at her. “Thank you.”

He poured, adding milk and two lumps of sugar. She couldn’t believe he’d remembered how she liked it.

The rector had entered as well, and took her aunt to the far corner of Mary’s parlor, where they spoke in hushed tones.

Mr. Featherton turned back to her. “I can call your maid, or we may address your concerns now. Tell me what you wish.”

She drained the cup, and he filled it again. “I don’t know what I want. It’s all so confusing. I—I feel as if I should leave here as soon as possible.” She heaved a shuddering sigh, then voiced the doubt that had crept into her reasoning. “But that won’t help, will it?”

Kit took his time pouring a cup of tea for himself, wishing it were brandy. No wonder men drank so much of the stuff. What he said next would lay the foundation for their lives together. With wide, frightened eyes, she gazed up at him. She was so pale, and appeared appallingly fragile. Yet to have lived the life she’d led for the past two or more years, as she hid from her cousin, refusing to give up what she desired—she had to have steel in her. He respected her for that, but it wasn’t helping them now.

Fortunately, Mathers had been more than forthcoming with Piggott. All Lady Mary had ever longed for was to be courted and desired for herself, not her money or her beauty, and she wanted to attend the Season. He might not be able to give her a Season until after they were married. That he had no need of her money was probably one of several reasons her grandmother had selected him. Yes, she was the loveliest woman he knew, but judging by her accomplishments, she was so much more.

It was time she faced the truth about their situation with no round-aboutation. “It would probably make matters worse.” He wanted to put his arm around her; instead he took one of her hands, intertwining her fingers with his. “The other day you told me how you came to be here, but you didn’t ask me how I knew to come.”

She was still for a moment as her brow furrowed. “I’m not sure I wish to know.”

He reached out to touch her, to smooth her forehead, but stopped. “The time for ignoring realities is over.”

She took a breath and nodded. “Someone told you.”

“Someone told my father. He told me.”

She tensed again. “Who?”

“My grandmother heard it from Lady Bellamny. Did you know she was here?”

Lady Mary took another drink. “Not until after she’d left. Lady Brownly came for tea, and told me that out of the blue, her godmother offered to sponsor Diana for the Season.” She bit down on her lip so hard he thought it would bleed. “Do you know if our grandmothers are close?”

“They have been for years.”

Then, in a preternaturally calm voice, she said, “They planned this. Our grandmothers and Lady Bellamny were in it together.”

“Lady B was most likely a willing accomplice rather than an instigator,” Kit agreed. Lady Eunice was probably involved as well, but he’d keep his own counsel regarding her.

The crease between Lady Mary’s brows deepened. “But why?”

“Considering what you’ve told me about your cur of a cousin, they had probably hoped to protect you.”

She stared at him as if grasping for the missing piece of a puzzle. “No. I meant, why you and not another gentleman?”

“I have no idea.” He tried to remember if he had ever mentioned Lady Mary to his grandmother. The woman had an uncanny way of ferreting out information, not to mention a long memory. “I have been notoriously difficult to please when it comes to choosing a wife. I believe my grandmother tired of waiting for me and determined to make a match.” Her eyes widened, and he hurried on. “She is correct, I must marry, but I have never been a loose fish, and attempting anything like this would never have occurred to me.”

A gurgle of laughter escaped Mary, and a small smile appeared on her lips. “Are you calling our grandmothers loose fish?”

He frowned for a moment. It was extraordinary what old women left to their own devices could get up to. “Yes, I believe I am. When I was told a woman was here portraying my wife, I was furious. Everyone agreed that I should make haste in traveling to Rose Hill. It took several moments, but then somehow I knew you did not come up with this outrageous scheme.”

Her countenance relaxed, even as she sobered.. “It was—is nothing short of shocking. I argued with Grandmamma before we parted ways and then with Aunt Eunice the whole journey north. Yet every point I made was pooh-poohed, as if I had no idea what I was talking about.” Her chin took on a mulish cast. “But I was right.”

He raised her hands to his lips, kissed her fingers, and tossed away any loyalty he had for his grandmother. “You were completely in the right. We ought to insist they be locked up somewhere. Still”—thank God he hadn’t said
unfortunately
—“it has left us with no reasonable choices.” Mary ceased to look at him and instead stared at her lap. Kit placed one finger under her chin, raising it. “Despite our innocence in this plan, we have been put in a disgraceful situation. Would being married to me be such a hardship?”

“It’s not that.” Her eyes swam in sudden tears. “I don’t
know
you. This . . . this type of arranged marriage is what I do not want.”

“We can grow to know each other.” He handed her his handkerchief, and he knew his chances of settling this situation were rapidly slipping away. Still, he had to try to make her see reason. “I’m considered to be an easygoing sort of fellow.”

She closed her eyes and a small tremor ran through her, not, he knew, of passion. “I do not believe we were even introduced.”

“We weren’t.” He grinned, attempting to lighten the mood and the circumstances in which they found themselves. He couldn’t bring himself to let her know how much failing to arrange a proper introduction had bothered him. “I was studiously avoiding a leg shackle at the time.” A tear drifted down her cheek. Oh dear God! She really was weeping. Before she could use the handkerchief, he wiped away the drop with the pad of his thumb. “Please say I’m at least tolerable.”

“You are being very kind to me. The thing is, and you may think it silly, particularly under the circumstances, but I have always wanted to be courted.” Mary blinked quickly and swallowed. “I want to fall in love.”

Kit searched her lovely silver eyes. “I want that as well.” The only difference was he was already on his way to falling in love with her, and they must marry. Since he’d been fifteen, he’d led an exemplary life. What trick of fate had decreed that he must suffer before he wed? Yet Mary was hurting as well, and the least he could do was to attach her affections. “Allow me to court you.”

She seemed startled. “You would do that? Even after all that’s been done to you as well?”

He raised one of her hands to his lips, brushing his lips slowly across her knuckles. “Gladly, if you’ll permit.”

This wasn’t at all how Mary had planned to meet her future husband, and she was not happy about it. Though she did appreciate how hard Mr. Featherton was trying to please her, not to mention his having been trapped as well. Yet, if they did not suit, she would not, could not marry him. As for now, it was time to start behaving like a lady of breeding. “If you wish.” Her cheeks warmed under his steady blue gaze. “Under the circumstances, I think it would be proper if you called me Mary.”

He grinned. “My name is Christopher, but most call me Kit.”

That was one thing in his favor. She had always liked Kit as a nickname. “Very well.”

A knock sounded on the door, and Simons stepped in. “My lady, sir, you have received correspondence.”

Mary held out her hand. “Probably my grandmother.”

Kit did the same. He received two letters. Both with seals. “And mine.” He added in a dry tone, “I wonder what they have to say for themselves.”

She was tempted to giggle again, then she glanced at the seal. “It is not from Grandmamma. It’s from Phoebe. Lady Evesham now.” Mary popped off the wax, and read. “
Oh my word
, she writes that they are passing through and wishes to visit, but how . . .”

Aside from Caro Huntley, Phoebe was Mary’s closest friend, but how did Phoebe know Mary was here? She had been careful to never put her whereabouts in a letter.

He’d opened one of his missives. “From my mother. I’ll read it later.” When he spread out the sheets of the other, his mouth opened, then closed again sharply. “Passing through, my foot. Meddling more like, and it’s not just Phoebe and Marcus. How did they get up here so quickly?”

“No, you’re right.” Mary read down the page. “Anna Rutherford and Caro Huntley are traveling with them. I know Caro quite well, but I’ve only met Lady Rutherford a few times.”

“At least the others had the sense to go elsewhere.”

This sounded suspiciously like another conspiracy. “What others?”

“My friends and their wives. Though I don’t suppose you know Lady Beaumont and Lady Wivenly.”

Mary cast her mind back. She’d heard about them, naturally, from Phoebe and Caro, but had never met the ladies. “No. Why would they . . . Good Lord, you said something!”

His head shot up. “
I?
No. I told Marcus about the pretense, but he was out of the country when you came out, and you’ve been in hiding since he returned. He could not have known it was you.”

That left only one explanation. Her friends would never have revealed her problems, not even to one another. “One or the other of our grandmothers is involved. I can feel it in my bones.”

“Probably both; that’s the only thing I can think of that makes sense.” His tone was grim. “They must be in collusion.”

Mary had appreciated her grandmother’s help over the past few years, but if she had known what Grandmamma was capable of, Mary would not have been so sanguine. This interfering had to cease. The time had come for her to take control of her life. “I’ll murder mine.”

“We will make it a double . . . What is the term for killing one’s grandmother?”

“I have no idea.”

“A double homicide then,” he added in a dry tone. “Is the nursery in as good a shape as the rest of the house?”

“Why do we . . . ?” She glanced back at the letter. “Phoebe says . . . yes, here it is. She’ll have Arthur, he is almost two, and Anna is bringing Benjamin. I recall him being a few months younger. They are traveling with their nurses so as not to impose on us.” Mary frowned. “Us?”

He raised his brows. “They definitely know I’m here.”

“We have a lot to do to prepare.” Mary rose and went to the lovely rosewood inlaid desk her grandmother had sent for Christmas. She hadn’t thought of it at the time, but this should have been her first hint that Grandmamma had no intention of Mary leaving Rose Hill for a long time to come. What did Phoebe and Caro think of all this? “We might have to bring in more servants to serve the visiting servants.”

“Nursery maids, maids, valets, and grooms, if not furniture as well.” Kit rubbed his chin. “You are in charge here, my dear. I am still an interloper.”

She pulled a face. “Not for long, you aren’t. We have a few days before their arrival. They are at Lord Beaumont’s home north of York, and will visit Edinburgh after leaving here. I’ll start a list.”