Louise Allen - Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1

‘Would you like to learn?’ Her eyes came back to his reluctantly, he could swear. What was wrong? Surely something more than pique over having been kept in the dark over his title and circumstances?

‘Thank you, but I am sure you will be too busy while I am here. And I will have no use for such a skill—it would be a waste of your time.’

‘I do not intend to keep Nicholas chained to the estate manager’s side,’ the Duke interjected drily. ‘He will catch up on affairs here soon enough. And possibly he has plans of his own.’ He regarded his son blandly and Nick acknowledged the remark with a movement of his head.

Now what was the old devil up to? Calling his bluff seemed the easiest way to find out.

‘Indeed I have, sir. Naturally I must devote some time to Witherspoon and to whatever I may do to assist you. Then there is the Dower House to set to right, a hunting lodge to acquire in the shires—I think I will rent at first—and the question of a house. In town. None of that should stop me spending time teaching Kat to ride.’

She did not rise to the bait, merely toying with the timbale of rice before her. The Duke remarked, ‘The town house is entirely at your disposal, I visit only when the Lords are sitting, and these days, not always then.’

‘Thank you, sir. However, I was wondering whether to take something smaller for the time being.’

The footmen cleared the table and for a moment the room was emptied of staff while the second remove was collected from the adjoining pantry.

‘But surely,’ Kat observed mildly, ‘the family house would be more suitable for your purposes next Season?’

‘Why so?’

‘It will impress fashionable mamas, and that is so important when entering the Marriage Mart.’

Robert stifled a gasp of laughter with his napkin, earning himself a look of mild reproof from his father, and a glare from his brother.

‘I am not intending to enter that particular circus.’

‘Well, not quite yet, of course, it would not be proper, but you did say something about the need to set up your nursery, did you not?’ Kat remarked with maddening affability. Heron returned with the footmen and she asked the Duke, ‘Is that delightful view over the fireplace the park here?’

The next course passed with conversation on neutral topics, relieved only by Robert remarking that, whatever else Nick did, he must take himself off to Newcastle as soon as possible and see a tailor. ‘For my coats will not stand the strain on their seams for much longer.’

There was general laughter at Robert’s mock indignation at the fate of his clothes, but Nick was watching Kat. Her hand trembled as she lifted her glass and she set it down hastily. The graceful line of her shoulders drooped slightly and he thought her laughter sounded forced.

Nick watched her chase a little curd tart round her plate until she could hide the remains neatly under her spoon and realised what was wrong: she was exhausted.

Should he say something? What would she expect to happen in this all-male household? But he had underestimated Kat’s poise. She caught his father’s eye, stood gracefully and smiled as the men got to their feet. ‘If you will excuse me from presiding over the tea table this evening, your Grace, I would like to retire, if I may.’

‘But of course, my dear. Sleep well.’

Nick moved to come to her side, but she shook her head slightly and he dropped back into his chair as she left the room. He felt guilt that she was obviously too tired even to want to berate him for his deception, hurt that she did not need his company. She seemed more comfortable with his formidable father than with him, she was certainly more relaxed with Robert. With an effort of will he dragged his eyes from the door and listened to what Robert was saying.

Kat was met in her suite by Jenny, bright eyed and excited. ‘Oh, Miss Katherine—my lady, I should say—it’s a palace here! The servants’ hall is so grand, and I’ve a room all to myself like I told you, and they’ve given me a girl to look after my things. And it runs like some great machine, they sent for me to say you were on your way, and a footman brought hot water, and another the warming pan, all without me having to ask …’

‘Please don’t call me “my lady”,’ Katherine said, sinking wearily onto the dressing table stool. ‘I am glad you are enjoying yourself. Is John all right?’

‘Oh, yes, my … Miss Katherine. A nice room to himself in the stable block and a lad at his beck and call.’ She unpinned Katherine’s hair, picked up a silver-backed hairbrush from the dressing table and began to brush out the brown curls in steady, soothing strokes.

Wearily Katherine closed her eyes and surrendered to the comfort of the nightly ritual. After a few minutes she reached up and unhooked her ear-bobs, eyes still closed. ‘I’m frightened, Jenny.’

‘Why?’ The rhythm of the brushstrokes hesitated, then resumed. ‘Because of his Grace? I’d be frightened of him and no mistake.’

‘No, Jenny. Because Nicholas—Lord Seaton—does not want to annul our marriage.’

‘Well, and why should he?’ the maid queried stoutly, unclasping Katherine’s necklace and beginning to undo the buttons down the back of her gown.

‘He should because of all the reasons I have already told you,’ Katherine said wearily. ‘And he will not because this is now a matter of pride with him.’ She stood up and stepped out of her gown, then sighed with relief as Jenny untied her stay laces. Finally draped in her negligee, she went to wash in the great bowl of steaming water on her washstand. ‘This is such luxury—we must not get accustomed.’

‘No, Miss Katherine.’ Jenny sounded unconvinced as she shook out a nightgown and passed it to Katherine. It was the pretty, flimsy one she had worn that night in Newgate. Katherine opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again. If she was tired, then so must Jenny be. He maid did not need her megrims.

‘Thank you, Jenny, now you run off to bed and try to get a good night’s sleep.’

As the door closed behind the maid, Katherine eyed the glacial chamber. It seemed vast now she was alone, the light from the flickering branches of candles hardly reaching the frosted detail of the ceiling, the shadows in the corners moving unnervingly.

She climbed into bed, a difficult manoeuvre involving a footstool, and found herself sitting up against a bank of pillows.

‘I am tired, that is all,’ Katherine told herself, her voice echoing round the room. It seemed to be quite out of scale to her solitary figure, as though it belonged to a giantess who would return at any moment and claim it.

She should wriggle down and go to sleep, she knew. The effort of will seemed beyond her.

The clock that was somewhere on the landing outside struck, time passed, it struck again, and again. This was ridiculous, she was fixed there like a rabbit mesmerised by a stoat. Now she was so tired she knew she could not sleep, she seemed to have passed beyond exhaustion into some kind of dream state.

A book, that would help. Katherine threw back the covers and slid out of bed, jolting herself painfully as she forgot the height she was at. But the room revealed not a single item of reading matter. She knew where the library was—dare she go down and find a book?

Defiantly Katherine shrugged herself into a wrapper. Anything had to be better than sitting sleepless in this ice cavern of a bedchamber, and no one would be about at this time of night. Her slippers appeared to have vanished, so with chamber stick in one hand she opened the door and slipped out into the corridor.

It seemed she had much to learn about life in a ducal home. Candelabra stood lit at each turn of the corridor and she saw a soft-footed servant making his way methodically along them, trimming wicks. Presumably just in case his Grace or one of the household decide to take a night-time stroll. Katherine blew out her own candle and drifted silently along the tortuous way to the stairs in the wake of the footman. He continued on and she ran lightly down, only to freeze at the bottom at the sound of light snores. A pair of legs protruded from the deep cowled porter’s chair by the front door, its occupant unstirring as she made her way across the hall and through the library door.