Louise Allen - Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1

‘I will simply not appear at all,’ she said hastily.

‘You are my wife, I will not have you skulking like some demirep I am ashamed to produce!’ he thundered, making her jump. The chaplain and archivist began an earnest conversation in a far corner about ecclesiastical Latin, obviously used to effacing themselves while the Lydgates robustly exchanged opinions.

‘Cousin Fanny,’ the Duke announced, ignoring Nicholas’s bristling indignation. He continued to address himself to Katherine. ‘Lady Fanny Craven, a cousin of somewhat straitened means who enjoys a visit to Seaton Mandeville now and again. I am sure she will be delighted to oblige and, as she lives in Durham, I foresee no problems with her travelling here in time.’

Katherine cast a hasty glance at Nick, who was still looking far from appeased. ‘Thank you, your Grace. That would be most kind, if Lady Fanny is able to spare the time.’ The idea of a ball in the great house, the thought a dancing in Nick’s arms, was powerfully tempting.

‘I am damned if I am having her living in the Dower House,’ Nick stated.

‘Of course not. Fanny shall have her usual rooms. I wrote this afternoon,’ he added, with sublime disregard to the effect this high-handed approach was having on his son and heir. Katherine, silently musing on how much like his father Nick could be, kept her counsel.

‘When do you plan to hold the ball, your Grace?’ she ventured, deciding it was time to intervene before Nick exploded.

‘In ten days’ time.’

‘Dinner is served, your Grace.’ Heron appeared at the door as Nick and Katherine said in unison, ‘What the devil am I supposed to wear?’

‘But I have no ball gown!’

‘You will both have to take yourselves off to Newcastle tomorrow and see to it,’ the Duke announced calmly, offering Katherine his arm and proceeding to take her into dinner.

Behind her she heard Nick’s sudden laugh and loved him for it. He was never a poor loser, despite, she suspected, rarely finding himself in that position.

The next day Katherine went in search of John. She had every intention of getting him to drive her and Jenny into Newcastle and not going with Nick, as she was quite certain her husband intended.

On her way out she pressed a letter into Heron’s hands. ‘His Grace has been kind enough to frank this for me.’ It was a brief account of her whereabouts for Arthur, and a plea to keep her present circumstances a secret. She was reluctant to commit anything to writing, but Arthur had been a good friend and she hated to think of him worrying. And now he knew her direction, he could let her know if he heard anything about Philip.

When she reached the stable yard, the grooms were polite but somewhat vague about John’s whereabouts. He might be in the tack room, or on the other hand he and Durren had been seen talking to the corn chandler. Would her ladyship like the boy sent to fetch him?

‘No, that is quite all right,’ Katherine assured them. ‘I will find him.’ She recalled Jenny telling her where John’s room was, so she made her way from the main stables into the quieter secondary yard and climbed the flight of external stone steps that led up to the room above the hay store which Jenny had described.

The door stood open, but inside all was silent. Just in case, Katherine looked round the door and froze in incredulous silence.

Her groom and her maid were locked in each other’s arms in what she could only describe as a passionate embrace. Katherine stole backwards as quietly as she could, but her very presence must have alerted the lovers for Jenny looked around.

‘Miss Katherine!’

‘I am sorry, I should have knocked, excuse me …’ She was already backing away down the steps when John appeared at the top.

‘Miss Katherine, please—may we speak with you?’

Flustered, Katherine climbed the steps again. She was definitely not of the school of employer who believed they should order their servants’ private lives for them, and, even if she were, John and Jenny would soon be independent of her.

‘I beg your pardon,’ she said stiffly as she re-entered the room. ‘I had no intention of—’

‘We are going to be married, Miss Katherine,’ John said bluntly.

‘Congratulations! I am so happy for you.’ Katherine embraced Jenny, then threw John into considerable confusion by kissing him on the cheek. ‘I am so sorry that our ways are going to have to part soon. But perhaps you have plans?’

‘We have that.’ John pulled out chairs and they found themselves grouped round the small table that served as John’s dressing table and desk. ‘My father owns a carter’s business down in Devon. He’s in a small way of trade and things are getting a bit much for him now. He’s been on at me to take over for a few years now and I reckon this is the time.’

‘And we also reckon,’ Jenny put in, ‘that we can make it more than just a small, local concern. We reckon that with a bit of hard work and some ambition we could have a network of haulage all over the West Country. And that’s not all.’

John picked up the tale with the ease that told Katherine this was a well-rehearsed discussion between them. How long had this romance been going on under her unsuspecting nose?

‘My mother has been running a shop. A haberdashery shop mainly; again, nothing flash, just a little business. But if we have a distribution network we could supply several shops, bring in good London wares to stock them—’

‘Serve the fashionable trade, or at least the merchant class,’ Jenny chimed in.

‘But that is a wonderful plan. You will go far, I can see it now.’

‘The thing is, Miss Katherine …’ Jenny met John’s eye, he nodded and she said tentatively, ‘If things really don’t work out for you here, Miss Katherine, we wondered if you’d like to come and stay with us while you work out what to do.’ She hurried on, almost gabbling before Katherine could speak. ‘I know it’d be a come-down, but—’

‘It would be anything but,’ Katherine said warmly. ‘I am touched that you should ask me. I hope I would not have to impose upon you, but if I did I insist on working for my bread and butter. Perhaps your new business would need a bookkeeper? It is about my only skill.’ It was a tempting vision of life with friends, an honest job of work to do, the challenge of building a business. If she could not be with Nick, then this was the next best thing. But however generous the offer, she knew it would have to be the last resort; she could not risk being a burden on the two people who had shown her unswerving loyalty.

‘That’s a good idea,’ John said with enthusiasm. ‘I reckon we could make a go of that. Now, you think on it, Miss Katherine. If it don’t suit—and heaven knows we hope it doesn’t come to it for your sake—you just say so, and no bones broken.’

‘John, you have to think about this …’

‘We have been,’ Jenny said. ‘And we’ve talked and talked. We wouldn’t say anything unless we were sure.’

‘Then thank you, both of you, I accept, but I promise I will not impose upon you unless I have absolutely no choice.’ The relief was almost overwhelming, and with it came the desolation—now, with a safety net below her, she had to accept that she was leaving Nick, there was no possible excuse not to. ‘When will you be married?’

‘When we get down to Devon,’ John said with a fond look at Jenny. ‘Jenny’s got no folks living, so that’ll be best.’

‘I’ll leave you in peace, then,’ Katherine said, getting to her feet and wondering if she was going to make it out of the door before she gave way to tears. What am I crying about? she wondered as she stumbled down the stairs. Happiness for John and Jenny, of course. A pang of jealousy? Yes, that too. Relief? Definitely relief. And heartache …