An Invitation to Seduction (20 page)

How was she supposed to answer that question?
Of course, I don’t want to marry him
was her initial thought,
but the truth was that she did
want
to marry him if only because she had no wish to bring shame on herself, her child, and the parents who had taken her in when her own mother couldn’t. She conceded that different levels of want existed, and she could answer truthfully—if not with total honesty. “I’m open to the idea.”

“Kitty, what on earth is going on?” her mother asked.

She darted her gaze between her mother and father, and her mouth grew dry. She wouldn’t hurt them for the world, and yet here she stood on the brink of doing just that and much worse. She’d given in to her impure, lustful yearnings and engaged in impure, lustful actions that had resulted in the conception of a child. How did she announce all that without breaking their hearts? “It’s difficult to explain, Mama.”

“I know you’re grieving over the loss of Lord Farthingham and still reeling from the unexpectedness of his death. Sweetheart, now is not the time to make a hasty decision regarding your future.”

“It’s not a hasty decision, Mama. I’ve thought it through very carefully.”

“But you loved Lord Farthingham.”

“I’m fairly certain she still does,” a deep voice boomed into the room.

Kitty jerked her attention away from her mother to see Weddington standing in the doorway. He strolled into the room as though he owned it, more importantly holding her gaze as though he owned her. In a way she supposed he did. He could demand of her what he would, and she would, in all likelihood, agree to it—for the sake of her child and her family.

“Then why offer to marry her?” her father asked, moving away from the fireplace.

“Because she carries my child.”

Kitty heard her mother gasp and saw tears spring into
her eyes. Her father’s jaw tightened, and his hands bunched into fists at his side. Texas was only just beginning to lose its frontier edge. Weddington’s nose wouldn’t be the first her father had broken.

Through the pool of her own tears, Kitty said, “I’m so sorry, Mama.”

“You’ve no need to apologize,” Weddington said, “when the fault lies with me. I took advantage of your daughter, and I’m here to put the matter to rights.”

“You goddamned son of a bitch,” her father hissed. “If we were in Texas, I’d beat you to within an inch of your life. Hell, I might do it anyway simply for the satisfaction.”

“If that is what is required to gain permission to marry your daughter, I’ll step outside and make myself available for the pummeling,” Weddington said.

Her mother crossed the short expanse separating her from Kitty, sat on the arm of the chair, and put her arms around Kitty in a comforting gesture she’d made a hundred times throughout the years. “What do you want to do, Kitty?”

“I want to do what’s best for my baby.”
My baby.
She’d never before spoken the words aloud, and yet in doing so the reality seemed to sharpen into clarity.

Her mother hugged her. “Of course, you do.”

Her father’s sigh echoed through the room. “I’ll contact the lawyer we use when we’re in London so we can meet with yours tomorrow to begin negotiating the settlement. Took a month with Farthingham.”

“It shan’t take that long with me. All I want from you is your daughter. Determine what you require her yearly allowance to be, and I shall agree to it. I’ve already sent word to the managers of my estates. They will all be here within the next day or so to present you with an accounting of all my holdings. As will the gentleman who handles the assets of my business ventures. I shall see to
obtaining a special license and making arrangements for the ceremony to take place a week from Saturday at the parish church.”

“How long have you been planning this?” her father asked, suspicion laced through his voice.

“Kitty told me of her circumstance this afternoon. I am not a man who believes in wasting moments hoping that a situation will right itself.”

“That’s all well and good, and while all these fellas you’re sending my way may be able to convince me that you’re financially solvent, I’m more interested in how you personally plan to treat my daughter.” When her father was angry his Texas upbringing came to the foreground.

Weddington’s eyes met hers, a challenge in his, along with a commitment. “I shall treat her as though she holds my heart.”

“You damn well better, because if she’s not happy, I’ll give you the beating you deserve.”

“People will talk,” her mother said. “With Farthingham gone only a month—”

“People will always talk,” Weddington interjected. “But she is not a
widow.
Therefore etiquette does not dictate that she need spend a year in mourning.”

“But I will,” she said defiantly. “As a matter of fact, I’ll mourn Farthingham for much longer than that.”

She saw a spark in his eyes, as though he were welcoming the challenge of convincing her otherwise. “He is indeed a fortunate man to have earned your complete devotion.”

“If he were truly fortunate, he’d still be alive.”

He flinched at that, and she silently cursed herself for taking her frustrations out on him. She was in an appalling situation, and he’d not once sought to avoid his responsibilities. As a matter of fact, it seemed he was do
ing all he could to make the entire situation as pleasant as possible. “I’m sorry, Your Grace. I don’t hold you responsible for Lord Farthingham’s death.”

“You’re most kind, Miss Robertson.”

Her mother suddenly stood. “David, will you come with me to look in on Emily?”

Her father’s brow furrowed deeply. “Why do we need to check on Emily?”

Her mother sighed. “I’m sure the duke and Kitty would appreciate having a few moments alone.”

“If you think I’m leaving this man with Kitty—”

“You’re planning to let him marry her. Are you also planning to move in with them?”

Her father rubbed his jaw. “Did I give my permission?”

“You mentioned contacting your lawyer,” her mother reminded him.

“Then I guess I did give permission.” Her father looked at her. “Is this what you want, sweetheart?”

She gave him a small semblance of a smile. “The marriage or a few moments alone?”

“Both.”

She rose to her feet, crossed over to him, and hugged him. “I love you, Papa.”

“If you don’t want this man, Kitty, we’ll work something else out.”

Leaning back, she held his gaze. “It’s what I want.”

“All right.” He glared at Weddington, a thousand threats and promises delivered in silence. Then he took her mother’s arm, and they left the room.

Kitty sank into the nearest chair with a sigh. “Well, that wasn’t too awful.”

“On the contrary, I believe I would rather face the sea than your father.”

“Good. I don’t want this to be too easy on you.”

“Nothing involving you has ever been easy.”

He knelt before her, and she resisted the urge to press herself back against the chair to avoid his nearness. Holding out his hand, he unfurled his fingers to reveal the most beautiful stone-studded ring she’d ever seen, the band so delicate she wondered how it could hold the diamond and emerald stones set within it.

“My family embraces its traditions, takes pride in its legacies. My grandfather had this ring specially designed for my grandmother, the emeralds for the shade of her eyes, the diamonds for the way her eyes sparkled whenever she saw him. He gave her another ring on the day that he took her as his wife. It nestles up against this one to signify their perfect union. I shall deliver that ring to you on the day that we exchange our marriage vows.”

He slipped the ring onto her finger, and she felt the weight of it circle her heart. For a moment she couldn’t breathe as the reality surrounded her, terrified her. Had Jessye been right not to marry the man who’d gotten her pregnant? Was Kitty doing the right thing by this child, or would he grow up to resent her because she’d married a man she didn’t love?

Starting to shake, she withdrew her hand from his and clutched it against her stomach, surprised to discover how perfectly the ring fit. “It’s lovely. Thank you.”

“I know I am not your first choice in a husband, but I will be your last. We shall make the best of it.”

“I’ve already promised to play the part well.”

His mouth spread into a slow, easy smile. “And you did admirably tonight. Your parents hardly suspect that you were desperately hoping your father would carry through on his threat to thrash me to within an inch of my life.”

She found herself fighting to contain her smile, because he’d guessed correctly: she had indeed been hoping that her father would deliver at least one blow. “It seems you
know me well. As for my father’s threats, my parents lost their first child, a son. As a result, my father has always been a bit overprotective.”

“I suspect he is overprotective because you are so very precious.”

He made his intent to kiss her known by cradling the side of her face with one hand while slowly moving toward her. His mouth contained no hunger, the heat held in check, the passion leashed.

It was a kiss that touched her more than any that had come before it, a kiss of apology, a kiss filled with promises.

Drawing back, he held her gaze. “Earlier I said that I knew I was not your first choice.” He placed his thumb against her moist lips. “Never forget, Kitty, that you were always mine.”

W
hy was it that black ink made everything seem so permanent, unchangeable? Kitty read the announcement of her latest betrothal in
The Times
, but she found no joy, no excitement. Only a sort of odd acceptance.

And then the callers began arriving. The curious, the piqued, the intrigued. She was home to none of them, refused to receive them, while her hopes were dashed that the ceremony would be quiet and attended by only a few. English law prohibited church doors from barring entry during weddings, and she was beginning to fear people would be continually pouring through them.

Then the Duchess of Weddington and her daughter arrived, and Kitty felt it would be the height of rudeness not to receive them when they would become her relatives in a matter of days.

Wearing a black crepe dress with a plain collar, Kitty walked into the drawing room to welcome them, comforted by the fact that they also wore black.

“Oh, my dear girl,” the duchess said, as she crossed the room and took Kitty’s hand. “How brave you’ve been since Farthingham’s death.”

“I hardly feel brave, Your Grace.”

“Still, you have been. I cannot tell you how sorry I am that I wasn’t at Drummond Manor to offer comfort that fateful night. That damned sea. I don’t know why Richard fancies living within sight of it. I could barely tolerate it after it took my dear Weddy, but now that it has taken your Farthingham as well, I don’t know if I shall ever return there. Although now that you’re to marry Richard, I may never have to. I’m moving into the dower residence in London this week, and at the end of the Season, I shall move to the dower estate. And I shall take Anne with me.”

“Oh, no,” Kitty said, her gaze moving from one lady to the other. “I don’t wish to kick you out of your homes.”

“Nonsense, dear. You are kicking me
into
my homes. I have long wanted to find solitude within my own residence, but Richard is so busy with the managing of his estates and God knows what else, that he had no time to oversee the household. Now that task shall fall to you, and I am most grateful.”

Kitty was glad to know she’d made someone happy. “Will you please sit, make yourselves comfortable? Tea should arrive shortly.”

The ladies took their places, Lady Anne and her mother on the sofa, Kitty in a chair across from them.

“I must admit to being quite surprised that you agreed to marry my son so soon after Farthingham’s passing, but I must also acknowledge that I am most pleased that he has finally consented to take a wife.”

“And Mama is most pleased that it is
you
,” Lady Anne said with a kind smile.

“Oh, yes, quite,” the duchess said.

Kitty forced herself to smile. Pleased, pleased, pleased. Everyone was so damned pleased, and all she could think to say was, “I’m
pleased
that he was willing to marry me.”

“As well you should be, my dear girl. He is quite the catch if I do say so myself.”

Kitty couldn’t have been more relieved when the servant arrived with the tray of tea and biscuits. After serving her guests their tea, she sat back and took a welcome sip from her own cup.

“I hope you’ll forgive me for being crass,” the duchess began, “but since you are American, I did want to make certain that you understand that your first order of business is to present my son with an heir.”

Kitty very nearly spewed her tea.

“Mama!” Lady Anne cried.

“I meant no offense,” the duchess said, her bejeweled hand raised, “but she is American, and Americans do not always fully comprehend the necessity for an heir.”

“I understand completely, Your Grace,” Kitty said, surprised that Richard hadn’t told his mother the exact reason that had necessitated their hasty marriage.

The duchess smiled with approval. “Splendid. I must warn you now, however, that the heirs to Weddington tend to arrive a month or so early. I had been married but eight months when Richard arrived. Eyebrows were raised, I can tell you that, but I quickly set everyone straight that it is simply the way of Weddington men to get on with business as quickly as possible.”

At that, Kitty wasn’t certain if the woman knew the truth of her situation or not. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I hope that you will. There are no finer men in all of England. I truly believe that.”

“Mama is a bit biased, I think,” Lady Anne said.

Kitty smiled her first truly warm smile. “Yes, I think you’re right.”

“Have you given any thought as to what you’ll wear when you marry Richard?” Lady Anne asked.

Kitty cleared her throat. “Actually I have. I have a pale lilac dress that I thought would be appropriate.”

The two ladies exchanged glances that spoke volumes. They’d apparently anticipated just such a response. The duchess set her teacup aside and scooted to the edge of the sofa.

“My dear, lavender is worn when a bride wishes to signify she is mourning the loss of a relative.”

“I am in mourning, Your Grace.” Kitty was certain her sharp tone was responsible for the duchess’s eyebrows rising.

“You are mourning a man to whom you were not married. All of London knows this. A week from Saturday, you shall marry my son. While I understand your need to honor Farthingham’s memory, I beg you will reconsider your attire and not insult my son by flaunting your grief.”

Lowering her gaze to her hands in her lap, Kitty wondered exactly how much this woman did know and how much she simply suspected. A delicate hand covered hers, and Kitty looked up.

The duchess smiled softly. “I realize there is hardly time to have a gown sewn. I was hoping that you might consent to wear the one I wore the day that I married Weddy. Our wedding was only the beginning of the happiest years of my life.”

“It’s a truly beautiful gown,” Lady Anne said. “When Mama was younger, she was almost as slender as you are.”

“It should require only a minimum of altering,” the duchess said.

“You love your son very much,” Kitty said softly.

“With all my heart. He is a good man, Miss Robert
son. Sometimes good men behave quite naughtily, and I suspect, although he has not confided in me, that in this situation he might have done just that. You need not confirm or deny my suspicions as to the reasons for so hasty a wedding. But in the years to come, you will look back on the day when you exchanged vows with my son, and I should like very much that you not look back on them with regret.”

Tears stinging her eyes, Kitty pressed her hands to her mouth. “I’m so afraid I’ll do exactly that. Look back on my wedding with regret.”

The duchess bestowed on her a sympathetic smile. “I know, my dear. I think Richard fears that as well. So we must make the best of it all the way around, mustn’t we? May I send my girl over with the gown and have her see to making the alterations?”

Kitty thought that in the grand scheme of things what she wore on her wedding day was hardly worth considering, but if it would help to get her marriage off on the right foot…

She nodded. “Yes, please. I’ll be honored to wear it.”

The duchess beamed. “Splendid!”

Less than an hour after the duchess and Lady Anne had departed, Freddie Montague came to visit. Kitty hadn’t seen him since he’d left to inform Farthingham’s family of his death at sea. Although she’d paid her own respects to the family in the first few days following the drowning, she’d not seen Freddie at their residence.

It was comforting to be with him, walking through the garden, her arm crooked around his. In ways she couldn’t quite put her finger on, he reminded her of Farthingham—the sense of playfulness perhaps. Even though presently it was absent, she knew it still resided in him. Or at least she hoped it did. She would hate for them all to spend
their lives melancholy because the sea had stolen their laughter.

Although she had no brothers, she thought the way she regarded Freddie was very much the way that a sister looked to an older brother—for comfort and support. With him, she felt as she did with Farthingham: safe.

She wondered if he’d consider marrying her and raising her child as his own. Yet even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew her plans were too far gone to change now.

“I keep thinking that I’ll turn a corner somewhere, and there he’ll be, waiting, smiling, teasing me,” she said quietly.

“I think we all tend to think that way when we lose someone who matters to us.”

“Will you write a play about him?”

“Probably not. Might write one about you, though. Your life is much more interesting.”

“My life would make the audience weep.”

“But it needn’t, Kitty.”

She looked up at him and met his kind, gray eyes.

“Farthingham wouldn’t want you to mourn,” he said. “He’d be pleased to know that you’ve moved on, that Weddington offered for you, and that you accepted.”

She shook her head. “Freddie, it’s barely been a month.”

“All the better. Life is far too short. Farthingham would be the first to tell you that. He’d not want you moping about.”

She narrowed her eyes at him before quickly averting her gaze in order to deliver her lie. “I’m not moping.”

“Yes, you are. Rumors abound that you’re not home to anyone. I was quite delighted that you deigned to see me.”

“Everyone is simply curious. They don’t truly care. I feel like an exhibit in the zoo.”

“All the more reason you must get out and about. Weddington will expect it.”

She released a brittle laugh. “Yes, well, he may find his expectations are not mine.”

“Then don’t marry him.”

She stopped abruptly and faced him. “I want to, and yet I don’t. I feel guilty, so soon after Farthingham’s death—”

He touched a gloved finger to her lips. “You mustn’t. I swear to you that Farthingham would be immensely gladdened by your decision to marry. He has the utmost respect and highest regard for Weddington.”

“
Had
,” she corrected. “He hasn’t anything anymore.”

“Quite right. Sometimes I forget he’s gone, and I find myself speaking as though he’s still here.”

She wound her arm around his again and began walking. “It’s all right. I do the same thing.”

“Still, although he is gone, I believe his sentiments would remain. He would be delighted beyond measure that you are to marry Weddington.”

“You don’t think it makes me appear disrespectful?”

“I don’t think you should worry overmuch about what people think.”

“I’ve spent my whole life worrying about it.”

“Then it’s high time you stopped.”

She squeezed his arm. “Farthingham would say the same thing. I’m going to miss you, Freddie, when you leave.”

“You’ll have to come to America to visit sometime.”

She smiled up at him. “Life’s ironies. I’m American and will make England my home. You’re English and will make America yours. When do you leave?”

“Not for a few more weeks.”

“Will you come to the wedding?”

Now, he was the one who smiled. “Weddington’s given me no choice. He’s asked me to stand as his best man.”

Again, she stopped, only this time it was to stare at him. “I would have thought he would have asked…” Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t certain whom he might have asked, but she’d thought it would have been someone with influence and power comparable to his. When she thought about it, however, she realized she knew none of his friends—other than Farthingham. She certainly hadn’t thought he was close enough to Freddie to ask him. She could do little more than shake her head in astonishment. “I’m surprised.”

“So I see. We’re not really close, he and I, but I suspect his selecting me had more to do with his wanting you to feel comfortable during the ceremony.”

Moving away from him, she dared to voice what she’d only whispered to herself at night. “I don’t want this marriage, Freddie. I really don’t. Why is he being so nice?”

“I suspect because he knows how you feel.”

“Maybe it’s guilt.”

“Why would you think that?”

“It was his boat. He consented to taking it out. With his experiences on the sea, he should have known better.”

“The storm deprived you of Farthingham. You mustn’t think otherwise. It’ll only add to your unhappiness.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Walking back to him, she patted his arm. “I’m glad you’ll be near me during the ceremony.”

“As am I.”

They began strolling again.

“May I ask you a question?” he asked.

“Of course,” she answered.

“You’ll continue yachting, won’t you?”

“I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Don’t let what happened to Farthingham detract from your joy of the sea.”

“I’m afraid losing Farthingham detracts from everything in my life.”

“But it needn’t.”

“Spoken like a man who has never lost anyone he cares about.”

“Spoken like a woman who doesn’t appreciate what she has.”

Spinning around she glared at him. “Why is everyone trying to convince me that Weddington is so wonderful?”

“It’s not my place, I know. It’s simply that Farthingham—”

“Would want me to be happy,” she snapped. “I know. If he wanted that, then he shouldn’t have goddamned died!”

Excusing herself, she left Freddie to stare after her while she made her way to the house. For the first time since the drowning, she was consumed with rage…for what Farthingham’s carelessness and Weddington’s determination to win at all costs had wrought.

How could she ever forgive either of them?