The Christmas Kittens (6 page)

On the carriage ride home, Dorinda fobbed her mother off with a lie about going to Whiteoaks in search of her cousins. Then she had been required to sit quietly while her mother rang a peal over her head for being out of the house when she'd been unwell. In truth, she'd scarcely heard a word of the reprimand because her mind had been busy plotting her revenge on her interfering cousin. Just as the carriage drew to a halt in front of Westwood Park, a plan came to her. All she had to do was convince her mother and her problems with Cousin Karis would be at an end.

At last they were settled in the back parlor with a roaring fire. Her mother's mood mellowed by having her feet up and a tray of Cook's famous macaroons beside her, Dorinda casually broached the topic. “Do you intend for Karis to make a come out in the spring at the same time as myself?”

Lady Westerly looked up from the cup of tea she was stirring. “Waste money on a Season for a girl with no fortune and little beauty? I think not, my dear. She and Anthea shall accompany us to London but continue as they have here, living quietly. It never does to give one ideas above one's station.”

“But won't society think it rather strange, nay even mean-spirited of you, to have Karis in your household and not take her about since she is of an age to have a Season?”

A speculative look came into the baroness's eyes. She knew appearances were everything in the social world. But the expense of dressing a young lady other than her daughter was not to be considered. “She will simply have to remain out of sight in Town.”

“But Mama, you know how servants gossip. It would soon be all around that you had some niece being hidden away from Society, then we would be thought to be harboring a Bedlamite.” Dorinda watched the horror come on her mother's face with satisfaction as she fed Princess bits of cake.

“We cannot have someone thinking there is madness in the family. But I cannot leave the girls here, for I intend to take much of the staff with me to London to save the expense of hiring people there.”

Setting her beloved pug on the floor, Dorinda rose and walked to the window. “Was it your intention to provide for Karis and Anthea for a lifetime?”

“Your papa and I had thought when Karis turned one and twenty that a position as governess might be found for her. You know she is acting as such to her own sister.” Lady Westerly gazed dotingly at her daughter who looked positively angelic in the glow of light from the window.

“Mama, Karis is the cleverest lady I know. You have said yourself she is practically a bluestocking. Why wait and bear the expense of housing her for two more years? I am certain any of your acquaintances would welcome a governess as intelligent as my cousin. As for Anthea, I can set a program of studies for her to follow which would be more fitting than all that Greek and Latin that Karis thinks so important.” Dorinda smiled innocently as she looked back at her mother.

Lady Westerly was amazed. Why, for her daughter to be offering to do such for her small cousin warmed the baroness's heart. “You would be willing to take on such a responsibility?”

Coming back to take a seat by the fireplace, Dorinda picked up her tea. “To be sure, Mama. Besides, Anthea can take over Karis's duties as my companion. While she is but a child, she could be quite as useful to me as her sister has been.”

The baroness nodded agreement, while she liked her nieces she knew what a savings it would be to be rid of her brother's oldest child. In truth, she'd more than done her Christian duty for Karis. “My old friend, Anne Handley, wrote me that her governess was leaving at Christmas and she would be required to seek another. I shall write to her this very afternoon.”

“An excellent suggestion, Mama.” Dorinda sipped her tea, relishing her victory. She promised herself she would be present when the news that Karis was to be separated from her beloved sister was broken to her meddling cousin.

A knock sounded at the nursery door, then the housekeeper entered. Her eyes grew round as she surveyed the room cluttered with ropes of garlands. “I do believe you've enough decorations to string from Whiteoaks to Birmingham and back.”

The marquess, seated at the table with his daughter and Anthea, watched Miss Lockhart put the finishing touches on the final decorations. He laughed at the older woman's observation. “Binx was just saying the same thing, but her belief was that it would stretch all the way to London.”

Karis shook her head at their teasing. “It is not as much as it appears. But we will soon know, for everything is ready.”

The housekeeper came forward to look at the Kissing Bough which sat completed on the table. “`Tis quite lovely, Miss Karis, and very original, if I do say so. You've all been workin' so `ard that I've made a special treat for your tea.”

Karis's gaze flitted nervously to the mantel clock. She was surprised it had grown so late. “Serve the girls, Mrs. Shelby, I have not the time at the moment. Anthea and I shall be quite late returning home as it is and I do want to supervise the hanging of the garlands before we go.”

“Must we have to leave so soon?” Anthea frowned.

“I fear so, my dear, or we shall be forced to walk through the woods in the dark.” Karis, like her sister, wished they never had to return to Westwood, but eventually she would have to face her cousin.

As Marsden watched the Lockhart sisters smile with resignation at one another, he was suddenly overwhelmed with an urge to protect them. While Miss Lockhart had said little of their circumstances, Miss Anthea had innocently made comments over the course of the afternoon about their cousin's demands. He now had a clearer picture of what life was like for them. It was a rather grim prospect.

“Allow me to put my carriage at your disposal, Miss Lockhart.” The marquess liked the way her green eyes twinkled with gratitude when she looked at him.

“That is most kind, my lord. But if we start now, while Binx's gives the girls their tea, I am certain we shall be able to finish long before dark.”

It was soon settled and Mrs. Shelby bustled away to get the tea tray and send Toby up to collect the garlands. Lord Marsden carried the Kissing Bough to the Great Hall as Karis followed. Finding himself alone with the lady at last, he placed the decoration on a small table and turned to speak with the lady. “I want to thank you for what you did this afternoon, Miss Lockhart.”

A rosy blush settled on the young lady's ivory cheeks as she needlessly adjusted a red bow on the Bough, avoiding his gaze. “I am mortified, my lord, that my cousin would have attempted to compromise herself in such a manner.”

“Don't fret so about the incident. I have put it from my mind. We, all of us, have things our relations do that we have little control over. No one thinks the worse of one for what others do.” Memories of his own humiliation at his wife's hands flashed briefly through his mind, but for the first time he realized he was not responsible for the lady's shortcomings. She'd chosen her own path.

At the moment he was far more concerned with the lady before him. “What I fear is that your cousin might punish you in some way for foiling her plans.”

Karis's heart hammered in her chest when she looked up to see the concerned look in Lord Marsden's grey eyes. Eyes she'd once thought so cold, were now softened with kindness. “You needn't worry about me, my lord. Dorinda is clever. She would never do anything to physically hurt me. No doubt her revenge will be of little consequence, and although it will upset Anthea a great deal, it will be nothing I cannot handle, I assure you. Say no more on the subject, I beg you.”

The marquess looked as if he wanted to continue the discussion, but Karis spied Toby coming down the stairs and went forward to instruct him on where to hang the Christmas decorations.

As the afternoon progressed, she kept her tone light, teasing Toby when a garland hung crooked or telling humorous stories of former Christmas disasters from her youth. There was no need for Lord Marsden to worry over a matter which might prove to be minor. She even managed to get a laugh from the marquess upon telling the story of Anthea accidently pulling the garland down on the head of their former vicar.

Karis watched with satisfaction as Toby hung the last of the garland through the balusters of the stairs, ending at the ornately carved newel post. Making a few minor adjustments to the ribbons, she stepped back and surveyed the stairway, then the Great Hall.

“That was the last of it, miss.” The footman gazed around the hall, thinking the old place vastly improved.

Karis smiled. “Then, we are now finished.”

The marquess lifted the Kissing Bough from the table. “Not yet. Toby, lower the center chandelier and I shall attach the Kissing Bough to that.”

The servant disappeared into a small door, and within minutes, the wheel-like brass lighting fixture came to within a foot above the marquess's head. He gave a shout for the man to hold, then held the Kissing Bough in place as Karis quickly tied the runners to the light. She was intensely aware of the man as he stood watching her nervous fingers work.

“There, it should hold now.” Karis took a step back, feeling like she couldn't breathe at his nearness.

With a shout, the marquess ordered the footman to raise the chandelier back to its former position. While the Kissing Bough lifted above them, Karis forced her mind away from the marquess. There was no point in wasting her time on dreams of romance. The death of her father had changed her life forever.

With a resigned sigh, she looked about the hall, then back to the rising Bough. Having momentarily put aside her personal regrets, she felt a rush of satisfaction at the job she'd done at Whiteoaks. She knew she had an artistic gift and it gave her pleasure to share it with others. Mayhap she could use her abilities to earn some money, but then where would she spend it? Aunt Flora never took them to Clarendon with Dorinda.

A tremor of fear ran down her spine as she suddenly remembered the glittering menace in her cousin's eyes before she'd departed Whiteoaks. What would be the penalty for an afternoon in the marquess's company?

Lord Marsden intruded on her thoughts when he softly said, “Miss Lockhart, you have transformed this old house into a home.”

Karis drew her gaze from the bobbing Kissing Bough to look at the gentleman before her. His scrutiny was as soft as a caress and she felt a tingling deep in her stomach. She knew dangerous longings were beginning to fill her heart. With a rush she announced, “I believe all is done, my lord. Anthea and I must return to Westwood.”

The marquess knew she was right, but on sudden impulse, he leaned forward taking her chin in his hand. “You must allow me the first seasonal kiss under the Bough, Miss Lockhart.” He'd only meant to brush her lips briefly as was the Christmas tradition, but when his mouth touched hers, a fever ignited in him that could only be quenched by her responding lips. An impulse as natural as breathing made him draw her yielding body against his chest, and he lost himself in her faint scent of Jasmine.

At the sound of the footman returning to the Great Hall, Marsden came to his senses and released the bewitching chit. Momentarily speechless, he attempted to control the strong masculine response she'd roused. He watched the play of emotions on her lovely face and knew she had been equally affected by the kiss.

Miss Lockhart's green eyes appeared dazed for a moment as she stared back at him. The chiming of a case clock in the hall seemed to awaken her, for she blinked and looked around as if surprised to find herself at Whiteoaks. Then those expressive eyes became shuttered, locking him from her thoughts.

“`Tis late, my lord. Anthea and I must be on our way to Westwood. My duties shall keep me from coming again. I would wish you and your daughter a Merry Christmas.” Before the marquess could utter the simplest apology, she turned and dashed up the stairs.

Karis's heart pounded in her chest as she hurried Anthea down the back stairs of Whiteoaks. She knew it was cowardly to slip away unseen, but she couldn't face encountering the marquess again. She couldn't trust herself to conceal her emotions. With one kiss all was suddenly clear. She was in love with the Marquess of Marsden.

She was scarcely aware of her surroundings as they said their hurried goodbyes to Mrs. Shelby then exited the manor. Anthea, oblivious to her sister's distraction, chattered away about their day while they made their way through the woods to Westwood.

Karis heard little the child said. She merely nodded in agreement, her mind still reeling from her folly. She'd fallen in love with a lord who could have his pick of the most beautiful and wealthy women of Society. He'd probably never given a thought to a penniless nobody like herself except as a companion for his daughter. For him the kiss had been a meaningless holiday gesture.

When the red bricks of Westwood came into view, Karis nearly groaned. Now she must face her vengeful cousin and hope there was little the spoiled girl could do to harm either herself or Anthea. She knew she was in no proper state to deal with Dorinda just now.

The sisters quietly entered the house through the kitchen and managed to make it all the way to the nursery without being accosted. But a maid arrived just as they were removing their wraps with a message that Lady Westerly wished to speak with Karis.

“I must see what Aunt wants. Change for dinner and don't forget to wash you face and hands.”

Anthea stepped to her sister, placing a restraining hand her sleeve. “Does this summons have anything to do with Dorinda being at Whiteoaks today? She means to do something to you because we went without permission, does she not?”

Bushing back reddish-blond curls from her sister's forehead, Karis kissed the girl. “Don't worry about Dorinda. Aunt Flora is foolish, but not likely to be led into doing anything that would harm either one of us.”

Leaving her sister with an admonishment to hurry, Karis made her way to the rear parlor, wishing she felt as brave as she'd sounded. Her aunt sat at a table penning a letter while her cousin perused a copy of La Belle Assemblée.

When Dorinda glanced up, a smug smile on her lips, she closed the magazine, tossing it to a nearby table. “Mama, Karis has come home at last. Tell her the good news.”

Lady Westerly continued with her writing, but called over her shoulder, “Have a seat, Karis. I shall be with you momentarily.”

Taking a seat in a chair across from her cousin, Karis was surprised at the baroness's cheery tone. Her aunt seemed gay as a lark, a surprising state considering what her daughter had been about. But then did Aunt Flora truly know Dorinda's reason for being at Whiteoaks? Probably not, for Lady Westerly rarely saw her daughter as anything but the epitome of perfection.

Within minutes the baroness joined the silent girls beside the fire. “My dear, you know it was your uncle's intent for us to find you a position after the formal mourning for your father was at an end.”

A wave of apprehension swept through Karis. She was to become a governess. This was far worse than anything she'd imagined. She would be separated from Anthea, perhaps for years. “I-I thought my Uncle Frederick said I could remain until I was no longer under his guardianship.”

“So he did my dear, but we hadn't the least notion of how very learned you were. You and dear little Anthea have been with us for over a year now, and in that time I have come to realize you needn't wait two more years to earn your own keep. You can start at once. An old friend of mine is looking for a governess and I have written to tell her you will come to her in the new year.”

Karis clenched her hands into fists knowing her cousin had been behind this sudden change in plans, but before she could protest the arrangements Anthea dashed into the parlor. It was clear to Karis her sister hadn't done as she'd been told since she still wore the same blue wool dress with smudges of flour about the hem. Instead, the child had come down to listen at the door to Karis's conversation with her aunt.

“You are sending my sister away? I suppose we have Dorinda to thank for this.” Anthea was close to shouting, her anger was so great.

Dorinda glared at the child and snapped, “You will not speak in that tone of voice. Don't forget to whom you are beholden for the very roof over your head, young lady. You should be thankful to have such a kind family.”

“How could I forget with you here to remind us daily. The truth is that we are little better than unpaid servants.”

Karis rose and went to her sister putting a calming arm around her shoulders. She agreed with every word her sister spoke, but they depended on their aunt for their very existence at the present. If she were being sent away she could not allow Anthea to jeopardize her own future here at Westwood. Karis had long hoped that once Dorinda married, that their aunt would take more of an interest in the child. “You forget yourself, Anthea. We have much to be grateful to Aunt Flora for. Please apologize.”

The child's shoulder trembled beneath Karis's hand, but she wasn't certain if it was from rage or remorse. The silence lengthened but at last Anthea calmly spoke.

“Aunt Flora, I am sorry . . . that your daughter is a spiteful jade who thinks of no one but herself.” The last was said in a rush then the child pulled free from her sister and ran from the room.

The baroness's face grew red. “How dare that ungrateful child slander her cousin so! After all Dorinda has done for you both.”

Karis set about trying to soothe her aunt's wounded sensibilities. Unlike Anthea, Karis knew the child would have ended up in an orphanage had their father's only sister not agree to take them in. “Aunt Flora, please, she is just a child. I know that cannot excuse her bad manners, but I do assure you that once she is over the shock of our being separated she will truly apologize to you.”

Dorinda rose haughtily and stood behind her mother. “I think I am the one that deserves an apology.”

With resignation, Karis replied, “And so you do, cousin. I hope you will forgive Anthea her show of temper and remember that she has only recently lost her father and is about to be parted from her sister.”

The baroness looked back at her thoughtfully. “I had not thought her so emotional but my dear you both act as if I were sending you to the ends of the earth. Mrs. Handley lives in Coventry. I am sure she will have no objection to your coming to see Anthea on your own time.”

Relief flooded Karis. She would not be completely removed from her sister and would get to see how she went on, even if it was as rare as once a month.

The next half hour was spent appeasing her relatives. She knew she would have to find Anthea and return her to the drawing room for an apology, but Karis wanted the child to have an opportunity to get past her first wave of anger. She even dared hoped her sister might return of her own accord once she realized the magnitude of her insult to their cousin and aunt.

At last, sufficiently certain that Aunt Flora and Dorinda were no longer furious with her sister, Karis excused herself and went in search of the child. Within a matter of ten minutes, however, it became clear that Miss Anthea Lockhart was no longer at Westwood Park.