A Lady of Hidden Intent (14 page)

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Authors: Tracie Peterson

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #General, #Religious

BOOK: A Lady of Hidden Intent
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“What else do we know?”

“Very little,” Carter said, folding his arms. “Winifred adores her. She says Catherine Shay is the kind of woman she’d like to have for a friend. You know how much Winifred has been hurt in the past by some of her so-called friends. I think she sees Miss Shay as being cut from a different cloth—of having less pretense due to her station in life.”

“Perhaps Winifred can learn more about her. They will, if I remember right, be spending some time together regarding a gown.”

“That’s true. Winifred has already told me there will be several fittings before the gown is complete. Maybe I can even coax Mrs. Clarkson into allowing Catherine to have some time away from the shop in order to be a companion of sorts to Winifred. I know there are occasions Winifred would love to have her company. And maybe some of those times can include me as well,” he said with a grin.

“In the meanwhile, I’ll do what I can to get information,”

Leander promised. He put down the pen. “Is there anything else?”

Carter laughed. “As a matter of fact, there is. Remember our discussion about finding a good wife?”

“Of course. My mother reminds me of such a quest as a matter of daily conversation. Why?”

“Winifred.” Carter watched Lee’s face for any sign that might reveal his heart one way or the other. Instead, the poor man simply looked confused.

“Winifred?”

“My sister has come to greatly admire you, in case you haven’t noticed. Well, the fact is, I believe she has always admired you. I would dare to say those feelings are even stronger than mere admiration.”

“But I’m ten years her senior. She’s but twenty years old.”

“Is that your only concern?”

Lee seemed to consider the question for a moment. “I suppose it is. I very much enjoyed our outing yesterday. Your sister is charming, albeit shy. She has a sense of grace and gentleness about her that I find . . . very appealing.” He paused and shrugged. “To be honest, I’ve grown to care deeply about her because she is your sister. But . . .” His voice fell silent.

“But what?” Carter asked.

“Lately I’ve begun to feel something entirely different for her. But knowing I’m much older, I put it aside.”

“Age should not matter,” Carter stated matter-of-factly.

“And that is all you have to say about it?”

Carter laughed. “I don’t know why I’d not considered it before now. Winifred adores you, and if you find yourself capable of the same feelings, I cannot imagine a better match. I know you to be an honorable man who will not act as my brother and father, which would in turn break my sister’s heart.”

“I should say not. I am quite fond of your sister and would never seek to hurt her. I suppose I always considered myself too old to be of interest to her.”

“Yes, no doubt we shall very soon need canes and milk toast,”

Carter said as he got to his feet. “I will do what I can to put the two of you together.”

“What of your father?”

“My father’s desire to force Winifred into a financially advantageous marriage is of concern. However, we can make arrangements to do things as a trio. This will give you time to explore your feelings and know my sister a little better.”

“I suppose it would be to everyone’s benefit. But seriously, Carter, if we desire to marry, what then? Your father’s plan to sell her off to the highest bidder is hardly going to put me in his regard. I’m not a wealthy man, nor is my family wealthy.”

“They have riches enough, and more important, you are socially accepted in every circle. But even so, we can worry about that another day. I need to get home. Don’t forget to check into Miss Shay’s background. I will pay you whatever you ask.”

“Hmmm, maybe I will become a wealthy man after all,”

Lee teased.

Carter pulled on his hat. “Perhaps you shall.”

Catherine’s image remained in Carter’s mind all the way home. He thought of her kindness to Winifred, her lack of pretense despite her awareness of his mother’s control over his sister. And, as Leander pointed out, she was beautiful. Her chocolate brown hair begged his touch, and her face was that of an angel.

Joseph was there to meet him when Carter brought the carriage to a stop at the back of the house. The man said nothing, but his gaze flashed to the house and then back to Carter.

Carter immediately understood. His mother’s shrill screeching could be heard all the way to the carriage house. Carter turned the horse over to Joseph, then went into the house through the kitchen. Seeing that Cook was nowhere in sight, he snagged a couple of cookies fresh from the oven before proceeding to his office. With any luck at all, he could avoid contact with his mother and father and leave them to their argument.

But it was not to be. Just as he approached the door to his study, his father came striding down the hall.

“I will not hear any more about it, woman. My affairs are none of your concern. You have a home and all the money you could possibly want. I owe you nothing more.”

“You owe me respect and love,” his mother cried as she followed him.

“Oh, Carter. I’m so glad you have come. I am so distraught.

I have no hope left.” She held a lace-trimmed handkerchief to her mouth and sobbed.

Carter’s father stopped directly in front of him. “I blame you in part for this. Were you not so adamant in your thoughts, you might persuade your mother to be less concerned about the affairs of men.”

Wanting no part of the argument, Carter reached for the doorknob. “I’m certain I do not need to be included in this conversation.”

“But you must be, Carter. Your father is buying a new house for that woman—his mistress. He not only shames me by flaunting his affair in taking her to the opera and other performances, but now he buys her a stylish house.”

Carter turned his gaze from his mother’s reddened, tearstreaked face to his father’s angry stare and then back. “My thoughts on the matter will not change Father’s mind or yours. You, however, look quite distraught. Perhaps a rest would help you to better deal with this.”

His mother fanned herself vigorously as though she might faint from lack of air. “Yes. I think you’re right. You are the only one who cares about my condition. I shall rest. Yes. That’s exactly what I shall do.” She hurried off in search of her maid, while Carter turned his attention back to his father.

“Do not give me any of your comments on the matter,” his father said gruffly. “I do not need to be chastised by my child.”

“Did I offer chastisement?” Carter felt such a deep disgust for his father that he turned and went into his office without another word. He hadn’t closed the door behind him, but he was certain his father would go on about his business. He was wrong.

“I will not have you dismiss me in such a rude manner,” his father declared, coming into the office.

Carter stood behind his desk and tried hard to thoroughly consider what his reply should be. He didn’t have a chance to speak, however. His father’s tirade continued.

“What I do with my time is my business. I have worked hard to provide a fortune for this family. I have not deprived you of anything. Your mother has always had the best furniture, the best gowns, and the finest china. She wants for nothing yet torments me for indulging in my own pleasures.”

“She wants
you
,” Carter replied. “You have given her everything

,” but yourself.”

“She has everything of me that is important and necessary,” the older man countered. “She bears my name, which in and of itself commands respect.”

“And what of love?” Carter asked, then watched his father’s face contort.

“You speak as a woman might. ‘And what of love?’ ” he mocked in a falsetto voice. “You speak as though you were an authority, yet I do not see you leaving my house to marry and set up for yourself.”

“Perhaps you will soon enough.”

“You? Marry? You’re far too busy with your drawings.”

Carter tried to control his temper. “I have no plans to marry at the moment, but I do have thoughts on setting up for myself.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Then perhaps your mother will not berate me day and night.”

“She would not berate you if you would honor your marriage vows and remain with her alone,” Carter replied. “You and my brother make no effort to hide the fact you are taking other women to your beds, then struggle to understand why your wives should be heartbroken.”

“Our mistresses are none of your concern,” his father retorted.

“They become my concern when my mother is devastated and left to suffer, or when my brother storms the place looking for someone to kill his unborn child. It further concerns me when I learn that you have had a hand in killing my siblings.”

His father actually appeared stunned by this comment. Carter didn’t care. “Has my brother not yet told you? Or are you merely surprised to learn that I know of such matters?”

“You are never to speak of such things again,” his father said in a low, menacing tone.

“Why?” Carter asked sarcastically. “Will that make them not so?”

His father slammed the desk with his fists and let out a curse.

“You will not speak of it. Do you hear me? I will not have my life dictated to me. I will not seek your approval for the decisions I make. You have not had the decency to assist me in any way, yet you benefit from my efforts.”

“As you benefited from my mother’s money.” Carter drew a deep breath. “Should not the wealth she brought you endear her even a little to your heart?”

“Enough! I will hear nothing more of this. Nothing!” Elger Danby stormed across the room and paused at the door. His tone was slightly less irate, but barely. “Your mother will only suffer more if she makes this a matter of social concern. She must learn her place and stay in it. I will not change in my ways, so she must adapt. You would do well to help her see that.”

“And how do you suppose I do that?”

“I honestly don’t care, just see to it. If she dares to speak of this to her friends, I will make her pay.”

With that he left, and Carter could only stare after him.

CHAPTER 10

T
he first of October brought Winifred Danby in for a bodice fitting. To Catherine’s great frustration, Carter once again accompanied his sister. Catherine tried to steel her nerves against anything he might say, but what she wasn’t prepared for was Winifred’s pleading.

“While Carter speaks to Mrs. Clarkson, I wanted to ask you something,” Winifred began. “We have plans on Sunday to attend a musical performance, and I want you to come with us.”

Catherine was fitting a sleeve to the bodice when Winifred made this announcement. Undone by the comment, Catherine very nearly put a straight pin right into the younger woman. “I couldn’t possibly come. Sunday is my only day off and I’ll have other things to do.”

“But you must,” Winifred declared. “Carter has invited Leander

“But I thought you liked Mr. Arlington,” Catherine said, trying hard to focus on the sleeve.

“I do. In fact, I . . . I believe I love him.”

Catherine straightened and shrugged. “Then why would you ever need me to come along?”

“I suppose it’s because . . . well . . . I’ve come to enjoy your company, and you put me at ease.” Winifred reached out to take hold of Catherine’s arm. “Please say you’ll come. I know it’s a sacrifice for you, and it’s rather selfish of me to ask, but I would feel so much better.”

“I’m certain your brother and Mr. Arlington would feel differently.” Catherine went to the table to retrieve the second sleeve.

“As I pointed out before, we are not of the same class. I would never have the proper clothes.”

“You could borrow one of my gowns. We aren’t so very different in size.”

Catherine knew that to be true. In fact, she and Winifred were almost identical in their measurements. “I can’t possibly do that,” Catherine told her.

Hoping Winifred would forget about her invitation, Catherine tried to push the conversation back on the younger woman. “So, are you and Mr. Arlington formally courting?”

“Oh no. I’m not certain he even cares for me. He has long been Carter’s friend. I fear he’s coming along only to accompany my brother.”

“I cannot believe that. You are a beautiful young woman, Winifred. You are also very quiet, I’ve noticed.”

“I cannot bear conflict,” Winifred explained. “I feel I can talk to you, Catherine. ”

“I’m glad.” Catherine concentrated on her work, hoping that

Winifred would continue.

“I used to have friends—at least, I thought they were my friends,” Winifred continued. “Now I realize they only cared about money and their next new bauble. They were mean-spirited, even cruel to one another. They would always talk about each other behind their backs. I knew without a doubt they were talking about me as well, but then one day I happened to overhear such talk. It was about my father. He has a mistress.”

She grew quiet, and Catherine could well imagine the caustic comments Winifred might have chanced to overhear. Catherine had known such women in England. “I’m sorry that you had to bear such a thing.”

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