His Obsession (18 page)

“That’s marvelous!” Kate cried.

“Yes, isn’t it?” Edgar asked with a grin.

“Helen and Lord Winslow?”

“They’re well and looking forward to the
wedding, now that there’s hope that the earl – well, now that
things are better,” Edgar advised.

Kate nodded. “And – and Dorothea?”

Edgar’s face fell and he rose to pace before
the fire.

“There’s still no word. It’s been over a
week. Your mother and I fear that something – that possibly --”
Edgar sadly told her.

“Perhaps it’s only because she’s on her
honeymoon,” Kate reasoned. “What couple thinks of writing the
bride’s parents at such a time?”

Edgar chuckled. “Yes. You’re right, of
course.”

Kate grinned, glad that she’d managed to make
her father feel a little better.

“Which is all the more reason that I should
be on my way,” Edgar advised.

“Oh, no! Please stay just a little bit
longer,” Kate pleaded.

“The earl strikes me as a man I wouldn’t want
to cross,” Edgar noted. “No, it’s better if I go.”

So, Kate said a tearful farewell to her
father, then returned to her bedroom upstairs. She was weary and
certainly in no state to face the earl and his guests just now. Her
eyes were red and swollen from crying and she was so depressed that
she felt like weeping all over again. Kate hoped that her husband
would understand.

Richard Warwick did not. He was not at all
pleased by Kate’s absence. In the space of a few hours, his new
wife had embarrassed him in front of his friend and guest.

To work out his frustrations, Richard rode
his large black stallion hard. The horse’s huge muscles bunched
with power as the creature devoured the uneven ground beneath its
feet. The beast was in a lather by the time Richard’s anger cooled
somewhat and it took Grimsby and Sophia a few more minutes to catch
up to him. When they arrived, Sophia happily dismounted and
strolled along the little stream in the glade where they’d stopped.
It gave Grimsby an opportunity to speak with Richard alone.

“Well, you’re in a fine state,” Grimsby
began, approaching the earl. “What’s got a burr under your
tail?”

“I don’t want to discuss it,” Richard replied
in a clipped voice.

“Oh, I see.”

“Drop it, Will,” Richard warned. “It’s
nothing that concerns you.”

“Forgive me, but I don’t believe you. I’ve
never known you to abuse an animal, Richard,” Grimsby pointed out.
“That stallion looks like he’s done in. I’ll walk him for you.”

“No,” Richard snarled. “I’ll do it
myself.”

Will shrugged his shoulders and trailed after
the earl as the larger man walked the beast around the perimeter of
the glade to cool him down.

“Let me guess. This has something to do with
the new countess, doesn’t it?” Will proposed.

“Leave it alone, Will.”

“Jeffries said Kate had a visitor,” Grimsby
mused aloud. “Who could have been so important that he couldn’t
wait?”

Richard glared at Grimsby, but his old friend
wasn’t concerned. He’d seen Richard angry before and in his cups,
as well. Once, Grimsby had even fished his large friend out of the
gutter and taken him home after a rather intense night of drinking.
Will could take the earl’s anger if he had to, but he wasn’t so
certain that Kate was prepared to deal with it.

“Let us guess, shall we?” Grimsby suggested.
“The dressmaker? No? Hum. The jeweler perhaps?”

Richard growled low in his throat, sounding
very much like an annoyed black panther. Sophia gestured to Will,
trying to get him to stop bothering the earl, but Grimsby would not
be denied his fun.

“Apparently not. That is odd,” Grimsby added.
“I thought for certain that all ladies liked their pretty baubles.
It must have been her brother then.”

“She doesn’t have any brothers!” Richard
snapped, immediately changing direction.

Grimsby almost crowed in triumph. At least
he’d gotten Richard talking.

“All right then. It must have been a family
member. Her sister or mother perhaps?” Will suggested.

“Damnation, Will! Leave it alone,” Richard
requested.

“By process of elimination then, it must have
been --”

“Yes! By all that’s holy, it was her father,”
Richard growled.

Will cocked one dark eyebrow at Richard’s
outburst. Silence followed the earl’s declaration. The quiet was
made even more intense by the stillness of the little glade in
which they found themselves. It really was a very pretty place,
quiet and tranquil, perfect for calming a large, very angry
male.

“That is odd, I’ll grant you,” Grimsby softly
agreed, stroking his chin in thought. “After all, what father
wouldn’t want to see his daughter on her wedding day?”

Richard grunted.

“I suppose it’s customary, eh?” Grimsby
added. “I do admire you for setting a new fashion, however,
Richard. You see, I always thought the woman’s father walked her
down the aisle to the altar. Making Kate walk all alone in front of
a room full of strangers was really unique.”

The earl’s eyes narrowed, but Will continued
to press him.

“And her family – how delighted they’ll be to
get word of the wedding second hand!” Will cried in mock
excitement. “It certainly saves a few coins on stationery, if
nothing else.”

Richard glared at his old friend, but Will
only smiled back at the earl and patted his back.

“Well done, old man!” Grimsby chirped.
“You’ve certainly made a lasting impression not only on your bride,
but on her entire family, too.”

Richard didn’t reply. The earl stared across
the little stream to the trees on the other side of the glade. His
thoughts were troubled and far away from his annoying friend and
his lovely guest.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, old friend. I’ve
been neglecting Sophia far too long,” Grimsby announced and strode
across the green grass to take Sophia’s hand.

Kate kept to her room for the rest of the
afternoon. Ellen told her that the earl’s guests had finally
departed. Kate was secretly grateful. Although Grimsby seemed to be
a likeable sort, his feminine companion was much too frilly for
Kate’s taste.

When dinner was announced, Kate informed
Jeffries that she preferred to eat in her room instead. Her nerves
had stood about all of the excitement they could take for one
day.

Kate was very disappointed that her family
had not been allowed to attend the wedding ceremony. Up until the
moment when the chapel doors opened, Kate had hoped that Richard
intended to surprise her somehow. When the doors opened, Kate would
see her father ready to take her arm and lead her down the aisle.
Helen, Lord Winslow and her mother would be waiting at the front of
the church, too, smiling in welcome. But it was not to be.

Edgar’s impromptu visit had been very
welcome, but Jeffries had certainly given the man a cold shoulder.
Barely civil and apparently acting as the earl had directed, he’d
wasted no time in showing Edgar Overton the front door.

Well, Kate thought, that sort of behavior
would have to change. After all, this was now her home, too. She
could see anyone she liked, whenever she pleased. Kate would play
her little part well, of course. To the outside world, she would be
the Countess of Devonshire, the perfect wife and hostess. Behind
closed doors, however, Kate was determined to live her life in her
own way.

A small part of her wished that things could
have been different between Richard Warwick and herself. She longed
for the kind of genuine affection Richard had briefly exhibited in
the chapel. With a single kiss, he had taken her breath away, but
that was just a moment in time. How long could she survive with
only that for inspiration?

Downstairs in his study, Richard Warwick
tossed another whiskey down his gullet and poured himself another
glass. It was his wedding night and he was in a fine state.

After his guests departed, Richard retreated
to his private study, attempting to calm himself with a glass or
two. It hadn’t worked. If anything, Richard’s anger had only
mounted. So, he drank more to dull his headache.

Richard’s new little wife had embarrassed him
in front of his friends and her special visitor had been her bloody
father! Richard had very little respect for Edgar Overton. He’d
squandered his family’s fortune and would doubtless do so again.
The man apparently didn’t learn.

Well, if Edgar gambled it all away a second
time, Richard would win this time. Edgar’s house and lands would
immediately be forfeit to the Earl of Devonshire. What a triumph
that would be!

Richard thought that there might be a chance
to clear the air with Kate just after dinner, but Jeffries informed
him that the countess would be dining alone in her room. Well, she
certainly couldn’t hide from him. Who did she think she was, the
Queen of England?

Kate Overton was the daughter of a nearly
penniless nobleman and Richard had accepted no dowry at their
betrothal. Not only that, but he had saved her pathetic little
family from ruin. This was the way she repaid him, too. It was not
to be tolerated.

Richard poured himself another glass of
whiskey, then thought better of it. Wrapping his fingers around the
neck of the entire decanter, he flung open the door to his study.
Richard lurched down the darkened hallway toward the main stairs.
It was very late, but Jeffries still hovered in the hallway,
straightening his weary body a little as he heard the earl
approach.

“Goodnight, my lord,” Jeffries bid him.
“Sleep well.”

Richard growled an unintelligible reply and
began to climb the stairs. He lost his balance twice on the way up,
striking his hip hard against the railing as he caught himself.
Nevertheless, Richard finally reached the top of the staircase and
turned down the hall.

Out of habit, Richard made his way down the
carpeted hallway to his own bedroom door, but reconsidered at the
last moment. Turning to the right, he moved on to his mother’s old
room, where Kate was apparently holed up in her bastion of feminine
frippery. Without knocking, Richard turned the doorknob and flung
open the door.

The huge oak door crashed against the bedroom
wall, sounding like the boom of a cannon. The room was dark. Kate
had apparently gone to bed. Frightened by the sudden noise, Kate
bolted upright in bed, her fingers scrambling for the matches on
the bedside table.

“Who’s there?” Kate cried in alarm.

Kate tried to strike a match to light the
candle beside her bed, but dropped the match in her haste. The door
closed as Kate was fumbling for another match, casting the room
once more into shadow.

“Who’s there?” Kate asked again, her voice
trembling with fear.

“It is I, your husband,” Richard growled.

Kate frowned at the slurred reply. The voice
hardly sounded like Richard’s. What was wrong with him? Once again,
Kate reached for the matches.

Heavy, determined footsteps drew near the
bed. Suddenly, a large weight fell over Kate, pinning her to the
mattress. Kate gasped in alarm. Richard wreaked of alcohol and a
strange wetness seeped through the covers as a decanter of liquor
spilled over her.

“Damnation!” Richard muttered, shifting as he
tried to locate the decanter once more.

Kate frowned in disgust and rolled away from
him. Quickly, she scrambled to light the candle beside the bed.
When she turned around, she saw Richard sprawled over the foot of
the bed, with a nearly empty decanter of whiskey lying like a
wounded soldier nearby.

“You’re drunk!” Kate accused.

With an effort, Richard struggled to his feet
and pulled down his vest with a jerk.

“I am not drunk, madam,” he stiffly told
her.

Kate nearly laughed at the picture he made.
The earl swayed unsteadily, swiping at a lock of his hair that
refused to lie anywhere but over the center of his forehead.
Richard’s brown eyes were bloodshot and weary. No matter how he
tugged and pushed at his cravat, the material shifted out of the
top of his vest to curl over his chest in a lopsided freefall of
lace and linen.

“We must – I must talk to you,” Richard
firmly advised her.

“Not now,” Kate requested. “Perhaps in the
morning, when you’re feeling more yourself.”

Perhaps not even then, Kate thought. No doubt
that in the morning, the earl would have a frightful headache and
hangover. Every word she said to him would probably ring in his
aching head like a clanging bell.

Richard frowned at her suggestion.

“No. Now!” he demanded.

Kate sighed tolerantly. “Very well. What did
you wish to say to me?”

Richard stood by the side of Kate’s bed,
staring at her very intently. His dark brown eyes drank in the long
length of her braided hair and the virginal whiteness of her
nightgown. His gaze lingered several moments over the swells of her
breasts, not hidden well enough from his perceptive eyes. The
spilled whiskey had soaked part of her nightgown and the wet cloth
clung to Kate’s delectable flesh like a second skin.

Flushing with embarrassment at Richard’s bold
perusal, Kate tugged one of the covers from the bed, clutching it
to her chest like a shield.

“What do you want?” Kate demanded. “It’s
nearly midnight.”

Kate hoped that her anger would bring her
courage and send Richard to his own room, as well. Perhaps she
could reason with him in the morning.

“What do I want? Just you,” Richard finally
replied with a grin.

Kate’s mouth fell open in shock.

“No. No!” Kate replied, shaking her head. “Go
to bed, my lord. We’ll discuss this in the morning.”

“For tonight, this is my bed, madam.”

Kate paled and shrank away from him. Richard
hadn’t meant to frighten her. Kate looked so small and helpless. He
was almost sorry that he’d come; almost, but not quite.