His Obsession (26 page)

The carriage ride was long and a little
painful. Although the coach was well sprung, the poor quality of
the roads and seemingly endless miles soon began to take their toll
on all of the travelers. By mid-afternoon, Ellen was nodding in her
seat. Even Elizabeth eventually succumbed to slumber, lulled by the
swaying of the coach and the warmth of the bricks upon which she
rested her feet.

Only Kate remained awake, her mind too
troubled to rest. She’d slept little the night before, too. Her
thoughts still whirled when she considered her father’s astonishing
news about her past.

Absently, Kate rolled her mother’s ring
around her finger. The rubies and emerald winked at her in the
afternoon sunlight, flashing brilliantly back at her.

Melanie Pope. Who was her mother really? Was
Melanie her real name? Had the woman always been an actress or did
she have a family somewhere? Edgar said Kate had appeared on
Melanie’s doorstep, a foundling child desperate for a home. She
could be anybody, from the lowliest servant to a member of the
nobility. Kate might also have some relatives who didn’t even know
that she existed.

Nevertheless, Kate couldn’t help believing
that her family had been of noble blood. No mere peasant or
gentleman possessed a crest like that. The rampant lion on Kate’s
ring was a powerful symbol, too. Did Kate dare to dream that her
real mother’s family had once been close to the throne of England?
Although her logical mind scoffed at that notion, it remained a
tantalizing possibility.

While Kate was in London, she would do some
investigating. Drury Lane was hardly a suitable place for a young
woman to visit even in the day time. However, if Elizabeth and
Ellen accompanied her, she might manage it. Perhaps she could speak
with some of the staff at the theater. They might remember
something of significance.

At last, as dusk settled over the land, they
arrived at the outskirts of London. A smoky pall hung over the
great city, fueled by the fires kindled in hundreds of fireplaces
across London.

The three women stiffly descended the metal
coach steps, grateful for the opportunity to stretch their legs.
Even from this distance, Kate thought she detected a whiff of wood
smoke on the breeze.

It was difficult to see in the semi-darkness,
but the house before them seemed impressive. The liveried footman
who opened the door to them also appeared to be a clear indication
that Elizabeth’s aunt was far from destitute.

Aunt Lydia welcomed them warmly. She was a
tall woman in her middle fifties, with a head of perfectly coifed
gray curls. Lydia had plump cheeks and a kind smile. The older
woman even bestowed a hug upon Kate before sending the young women
up to their rooms.

After a light supper, Kate, Elizabeth and
Ellen quickly climbed into their beds. Completely exhausted by
their journey, Kate was asleep moments after her head touched the
pillow.

The following morning, Elizabeth began Kate’s
London education in earnest. They toured the streets in her aunt’s
smart black coach, pulled by a matched set of grays.

Kate gasped at the opulence and height of the
buildings and sighed at the lovely fountains gracing the green
parks and busy squares. Elizabeth was enthralled with the many
shops along their way and remarked about several to which she’d
like to return when they had a quiet afternoon.

The ladies stopped once to refresh themselves
with some hot black tea and cakes, and a second time, so that they
could stroll a little in lovely Hyde Park. Each time they stopped,
Kate scanned the faces of those around them, fearing that Richard
might be among the men admiring the two young females. Thankfully,
he was not.

At first, the noise and colors of London
alarmed Kate a little, but by mid-afternoon, she’d become more used
to her new surroundings. No doubt the next time they ventured into
the streets, Kate would accept their journey with more
alacrity.

Lord Charles Lawton drew rein behind the
elaborate black coach and grinned to himself. For hours, he’d been
following the two young ladies around London as they explored the
sights. Once, he’d even considered interrupting Kate and her
friend, Elizabeth, but had quickly reconsidered that notion.

The small woman riding with Elizabeth
Brighton bore a striking resemblance to the late Duchess of
Hawksbury. Charles had seen portraits of the young duchess hanging
in the halls of the Hawksbury estate and Countess Kate Warwick
could have been her twin!

Brioria had been the only child of George and
Florence Tremaine, the duke and duchess of Hawksbury. Raised with
every benefit, Brioria had nonetheless chosen her own course,
eloping with a young lord of whom she was greatly enamored. Shortly
after the wedding, however, Brioria’s husband had been killed in a
duel and without the means to support herself, the young duchess
had fallen on hard times.

George Tremaine had hired an army of
investigators to track down his wayward daughter and bring her back
to her family. Unfortunately, as the investigators began to close
in, Brioria simply disappeared, along with a valuable ring bearing
the Hawksbury family crest of a rampant lion.

All of George’s efforts to locate his missing
daughter had proven futile, until that fateful day when he was
summoned to Scotland to identify her mutilated body. Although
George was certain Brioria had been murdered, he had no proof. Even
more disconcerting, at the time of her death, Brioria had
apparently been carrying a child. Unfortunately, the child had
vanished.

Florence Tremaine was devastated by the loss
of her daughter and the disappearance of her grandchild. She ate
and drank little, slowly wasting away to but a shadow of the proud,
regal woman she had once been. A few short months later, she joined
her daughter in death.

Many years had passed since that fateful day.
George Tremaine existed as best he could. He traveled little and
for the most part, lived a quiet, secluded life at the Hawksbury
estate.

Charles would never have met the duke either,
except that his father had been George’s old schoolmate at Eton. As
a favor to him, George loaned Charles some money to help him cover
his debts. Charles felt so much better with his newfound wealth
that he promptly returned to the gaming tables. Once again, he
incurred heavy losses, exhausting his funds in three short
months.

Charles returned to the ducal estate to
obtain a second loan, but the old duke would have none of him.
Treating Charles like a spoiled child, George Tremaine ordered the
butler to throw him out on his ear. Nothing, he vowed, would force
him to give Charles any more money. Perhaps, Charles thought,
George Tremaine simply needed the proper inducement.

Hyde Park was the perfect place to see and be
seen by those of notable birth and stature. Lawton had trailed the
pair of females as they’d paused beside a lovely rose garden and
stopped to speak with a few children playing in the lush grass. As
they strolled toward a stand of trees, Lawton thought he might
capture Kate and Elizabeth alone for a few moments, but his plans
were thwarted. Several young gentlemen had a similar notion and
wasted no time in making the ladies’ acquaintance.

So, Lawton cursed his luck and finally rode
off to drown his sorrows in a few glasses of good liquor. For now,
he would have to bide his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity
of finding Kate alone. She was the key to his future. He could not,
would not allow her to escape.

As Kate and Elizabeth explored London, Kate’s
thoughts constantly strayed to Richard. Somehow, Kate sensed that
she was being followed. Richard might be near, however, she never
glimpsed his face. Her awareness of her surroundings was heightened
by the fact that Richard might, at any moment, discover Kate’s
arrival and confront her.

If that occurred, what would she say to him?
How would she react? By all rights, the man had abandoned her. That
unforgivable slight still angered her. Yet, Kate was also a little
contrite. If Warwick had wanted her in London, he would have asked
her to accompany him, wouldn’t he?

Elizabeth and Ellen, however, did wonders for
Kate’s guilty conscience. Her new friends condemned Richard’s
callous behavior toward his new bride, as did Aunt Lydia. Kate was
the new Countess of Devonshire. As such, she could not just be
swept under the rug or pushed into a country manor like some
unwanted relative. At their urging, Kate decided that the next time
she saw Richard, she would try to be as coldly aloof as the earl
himself. Perhaps, Richard might learn something if Kate gave him
some of his own medicine.

The following evening, Lydia suggested that
the two young women accompany her to the opera. Kate was nervous
and excited about venturing into such a lavish scene, but she
welcomed the opportunity to realize another one of her girlish
dreams.

Lydia wore a gown of dark champagne silk with
a lace edged collar. Her long white gloves were spotless and the
diamonds on her tiara and around her neck were stunning.
Elizabeth’s aunt wore her age well. The woman didn’t look a day
over forty, although her bright gray eyes missed nothing. Her broad
mouth always seemed curled into a perpetual smile, too, a quality
which Kate much admired.

Elizabeth’s dress was a vivid contrast to her
aunt’s demure gown. The flaming red taffeta hugged her slender
curves like a glove, outlining her hourglass figure to perfection.
Elizabeth wore a brilliant red ruby and gold necklace and large
ruby studded earbobs, too. Had it not been for Elizabeth’s warm
personality, Kate could have imagined that she was in the company
of the Queen of England or a visiting foreign princess.

For this event, Kate had decided to be more
daring in her attire. At her friend’s urging, she’d borrowed one of
Elizabeth’s gowns, which Ellen had hastily hemmed in deference to
Kate’s more diminutive stature. The emerald green taffeta skirt
rustled becomingly as Kate walked. Although a trifle too tight in
the bosom, Kate had somehow managed to squeeze into the dress. To
accomplish that miracle, Ellen had been forced to lace her so
tightly into her corset that Kate could barely breathe. Still, Kate
had to admit that the overall effect was striking.

The neckline of Kate’s gown bordered on being
scandalous. On Elizabeth, the dress would have been daring enough,
but on Kate, the neckline dipped very low, making her feel half
naked. Elizabeth and Lydia both argued with Kate when she suggested
adding a modest lace fichu above her breasts or at least a covering
lace shawl. Most of the ladies attending the opera would be wearing
gowns in a similar style, they argued. At last, Kate had acquiesced
and they were finally on their way.

The crush of carriages lining up before the
opera house was so intense that Aunt Lydia finally suggested they
might make better time on foot. Stepping gingerly across the paving
stones and an occasional pile of horse manure, the three women
arrived approximately ten minutes before the curtain was to rise.
Hastily, they checked their cloaks and made their way up to their
box.

Lydia Rathmoreson had the second box back
from the stage, a very choice location indeed. Kate was thrilled by
their proximity to the actors and actresses. Elizabeth’s aunt
insisted that Kate take one of the chairs in front beside her
niece, while she sat further back, content to assume the role of
chaperone for the evening.

As Kate fiddled with her small opera glasses,
Elizabeth pointed out some of the parts of the stage. Next, she
turned her attention to a few of the notable persons attending the
evening’s performance. Eventually, Kate’s attention was drawn to
the brightly clad women in the box opposite their own.

“Who are those women?” Kate finally
asked.

Elizabeth chuckled, leaning closer in
confidence. “You
would
notice them first. They’re light o’
loves, dear. You know, loose women?”

“Elizabeth!” Lydia gasped, shushing her niece
to silence.

Elizabeth lowered her voice, but would not be
still.

“Although ladies aren’t supposed to know
anything about them, we all do, of course,” Elizabeth added.

Aunt Lydia frowned at her niece and fluttered
her pink fan in annoyance. Kate grinned at her conspirator and once
more raised her glasses for another look.

The other women’s gowns were overly bright
and scandalously cut, displaying a shocking amount of cleavage.
They wore too much jewelry and certainly not enough clothing. An
elaborate use of feathers also seemed to be appropriate in their
case, as well as the ladies’ rather loud laughter.

Seated among the bevy of voluptuous females
were several gentlemen, no doubt enjoying the ladies’ company and
the enticing view. Two of the men were old enough to have sired
half the brood themselves. Clearly, they should have known better,
Kate decided.

The other three men were much younger. One
was a blond haired gentleman, who sat with his back turned toward
the stage as he conversed with one of the damsels. The other two
were tall and dark. One gentleman sat in the shadow of the curtain,
his face and neck hidden from view. The second turned as Kate
watched and she recognized him immediately.

“Good heavens! That’s Grimsby!” Kate cried,
her opera glasses dropping into her lap.

“Who?” Elizabeth inquired, raising her
glasses to her nose. “Did you recognize someone, Kate?”

“That’s Will Grimsby. He was Richard’s best
man at our wedding,” Kate quietly explained.

For a moment or two, Lydia and Elizabeth
watched the ladies and men converse in the other box. The ladies’
delighted cries trilled to their ears even across the opera house
and the gentlemen’s answering laughter rumbled across the
distance.