In The Prince's Bed (16 page)

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No, he would only have done that if he’d known of Katherine’s expectations and was pursuing her from the beginning. If Mama could be believed, he couldn’t know. And when he’d met her on the balcony, he certainly hadn’t seemed to know anything about her except her name and what Sydney and she had—

Oh, no, might Alec have heard her say something toSydneywhile he’d been eavesdropping? Frantically, she replayed last night’s conversation in her head. But she was nearly certain they hadn’t discussed her fortune in his hearing. And since she’d balked at mentioning it herself today, Alec couldn’t possibly know the truth about it. Which meant he had no reason to court her. Except that he desired her. But he wasn’t the kind of man who’d marry just for that—when he spoke of chasing her, he meant chasing her into his bed.

A heavy disappointment settled upon her chest. She shouldn’t care that he wanted only to seduce her, but she did. It was utterly foolish of her, for she wouldn’t marry him even if he earnestly asked her to. Yet she wanted him to ask.

Pride, that’s all it was. It pricked her pride that he didn’t want her for a wife, even though she didn’t want him for a husband.

“Now that your curiosity about Lord Iversley’s intentions is satisfied,” Mama said, “I do hope you’ll conduct yourself better with him.”

Goodness, had Mama somehow found out about those scandalous kisses and caresses she’d shared with Alec? “I-I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, yes, you do.” Her mother planted her hands on her hips. “Taking his lordship to a poetry reading—what were you thinking?”

Relief coursed through Katherine. “I promisedSydneyI’d go.”

“Yes, and he has certainly fulfilled all of
his
promises, hasn’t he?” When Katherine sighed, she added, “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll forget about Sir Sydney now that his lordship is courting you. Don’t you want to be a wealthy countess?”

“Not really.” Nervous about raising expectations for a nonexistent marriage, Katherine added, “I wouldn’t take the earl’s attentions too seriously, Mama. He may just be toying with me. You’ve heard what they say about him.”

“You mean that he’s a
rouille
?”

“
Roue
, Mama.
Rouille
means ‘blight.’” Katherine paused. “Come to think of it, you’re right. He is a
rouille
.”

“
Roue, rouille
—it’s all just gossip. And even if he was one, what does that matter? Every man sows his wild oats, but once they set their minds to marrying, that’s different.”

“Oh?” Katherine sat on her bed to brush her hair. “Some men continue sowing long after they marry. I have no desire for such a husband.”

“Don’t be silly. That’s how men are. Women learn to look the other way.”

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Katherine’s gaze shot to her mother. “Like you did?”

A flush darkened Mama’s cheeks. “Is that what you think? That your father and I argued because I was jealous of him and his… his little whores? I assure you, I didn’t care one whit about that. It was the money that bothered me, all that money he spent on them when he wouldn’t even bring me to town during the season.” She sniffed. “And his gambling, too.”

Katherine blushed. She never knew whether to be grateful for Mama’s candor about Papa’s indiscretions, which served as a warning to her, or appalled by Mama’s lack of shame, which simply mortified her. “Still, given your experience with Papa, you should understand my reluctance about Lord Iversley.”

“It’s not the same thing. With your father and me, there was never enough money to go around, but you won’t have to worry about that. Why, with Lord Iversley’s income and the fortune he surely got from his mother, you might not even need that money from my father, God rest his soul.”

Katherine sighed. Mama was so transparent. “We still have to pay Papa’s debts. Not to mention that we owe that gaming fellow five thousand pounds. We’ll have to pay that at once.”

Mama scowled. “How could your father get into debt to that awful man?”

“Actually, Mr. Byrne has been very decent. At least he hasn’t pressedusfor payment too strenuously.”

“I suppose. But I still say he should have forgiven a widow’s debt entirely.”

“Five thousand pounds? He’d have to be mad. Besides, a gentleman is expected to pay his debts even after he dies.”

“Perhaps if they’re owed to another gentleman, but to a creature like Mr. Byrne? You know what they say about his parentage—”

“Yes, Mama. He’s a walking illustration of why I shouldn’t marry the earl.”

“Nonsense.” Settling onto Katherine’s bed, she laid a motherly hand on her daughter’s leg. “If even the prince has his fancy women, you can’t escape it. What you want is a man who’s discreet. Not like your father.” Her lips tightened into a thin line. “He couldn’t even die discreetly, the wretch.”

He had died choking on a fishbone while dining with his mistress, the final mortification for their family. Mama squeezed Katherine’s knee. “But your Lord Iversley will be discreet. I can tell these things, you know. He’s a very private man, not given to boasting about his conquests like your father.”

The very thought of such discretion sickened her. “I don’t want discretion in a husband. I want fidelity.”

“We all want that, my angel. But men can’t give it.”

She eyed her mother mutinously. “Sydneycan.”

“Even if that were true, his fidelity would hardly compensate for his other disadvantages. For one thing, there’s his awful mother.”

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Katherine choked down a laugh. That was like Genghis Khan calling Attila the Hun cruel. “She was your friend once.”

“Yes, but that was before I eloped with your father. She never approved of him. And she positively hates that her husband chose to marry her only after I’d thrown him over. What she saw in Lovelace, I’ll never know. He was as dull as dishwater.” She shot Katherine an arch glance. “Just like his son.”

Katherine bristled. “I thought you likedSydney.”

“Until I saw the other choices. After we came to town and he draggedusto salons and lectures, I viewed your union differently. What sort of life will you have with him? He has some cachet in society, I’ll grant you, because his family is so old and respected, but it’s nothing to what Lord Iversley will have.”

“I don’t care about society, Mama.”

“You’ll care when you’re trapped out inCornwallat Sir Sydney’s estate, with his mother guiding your every activity.” Mama’s face took on a glow as she recited the holy mantra of every society matron scheming for her child. “But if you marry his lordship, only think of the parties and balls and routs you’ll be invited to—why, you might even rub elbows with the prince himself.”

“Yes, wouldn’t that be grand?” Katherine snapped.

“You can come to town every year for the season and give your sisters a real coming out—”

“Which would mean your coming to town with them.”

Her mother blinked, then dropped her gaze to her lap. “Of course.” She smoothed her skirts nervously.

“That goes without saying. Besides, you’d want your mother here to help you with all your own balls and parties, wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t intend to have any balls and parties.”

“Oh, but you must! It will be expected of the new Countess of Iversley.” Mama took up the mantra once more. “You’ll be called Lady Iversley.”

“If I marrySydney, I’ll be called Lady Lovelace.”

Mama flipped her hand. “It’s not the same—that’s merely being a baronet’s wife. But a countess—”

She gave a longing sigh. “And your sons will all be called ‘Lord,’ and your eldest will be the heir—”

“And I’ll be lonely because my husband spends all his time at his club, and brokenhearted because he keeps a mistress.”

“Lonely! InLondon? Don’t be absurd. Who could be lonely inLondon? As for being brokenhearted, there’s nothing to say you can’t… well… have friends of your own. After you bear the heir and a spare, of course.”

“Mama!” Katherine blushed to the roots of her hair. “I would never—”

“Oh, don’t be a ninny. You’ll be a fashionable woman then—you can do as you please.”

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“If that’s being fashionable, I want none of it.” The picture her mother painted of her future life with Alec made her ill—it contrasted so sharply with the life she thought to have withSydney. But ifSydneydidn’t react to the news of Alec’s courtship by offering for her, what was she going to do? Her mother rose stiffly, her face drawn in anger. “I see there’s no use talking to you—you don’t know a good thing when it’s dropped into your lap.”

Tossing back her head, she marched off to jerk the door open, then turned to glare at Katherine. “Go on and choose your baronet, then, and have a dull life. But I warn you: If you don’t accept an offer from either Sir Sydney or Lord Iversley in the next two weeks, the whole world will hear of the fortune you expect. Then you’ll have quite a choice of husbands, won’t you? Fortune hunters and schemers, for the most part. And I’ll turn a deaf ear to your protests, too. Because one way or the other, missy, you’re going to marry
someone
before the season is over.”

Use gifts to soften the woman’s defenses.

—Anonymous,
ARake’s Rhetorick

A week later, as the well-sprung coach Alec had borrowed from Draker swept down the crowded Londonstreets toward the Merivale town house, Alec admitted he’d made a serious tactical error. In letting Katherine continue to believe his interest in her was merely wicked, he’d put her further on her guard.

For some reason, the hothouse flowers he’d spent a pretty penny on only angered her. Weren’t women supposed to like flowers? The book of poetry he’d brought had been better received, until she noticed it was by some fellow named Byron, who apparently had a scandalous reputation. By God, who would have thought a book of poetry could be a problem?

At least she’d enjoyed the entertainments he took her and her mother to, but she’d spent them glued to Mrs. Merivale’s side. And she absolutely refused to go riding with him, saying there was no one to chaperone.

He snorted. She merely wanted to avoid being alone with him again. And neither Mrs. Merivale’s determined efforts to leave them alone together nor Alec’s similar attempts had worked—Katherine held tight to the strictest proprieties. He hadn’t even managed to hold her hand, much less sneak a kiss. It drove him insane. He’d give anything for one stolen kiss from her sweet, artless mouth. And he would have it, too, if tonight went according to plan. He had to secure her soon. Matters at Edenmore were desperate—he couldn’t afford to remain inLondonmuch longer.

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At least Sir Sydney was keeping away. But that could be bad, too—if Katherine decided the courtship ploy wasn’t working, she would refuse Alec and he’d have wasted days of effort. Perhaps he should have chosen one of those simpering misses who would have welcomed his attention, accepted his guidance… and bored him to tears, in bed and out. Blast it, that shouldn’t matter. Saving Edenmore should be his prime concern. But he craved Katherine like he craved wild rides across Edenmore’s clay hills. Being with her pleased him, talking to her stimulated him… touching her aroused him.

That mustn’t matter. His tenants and servants depended on him to set Edenmore to rights. So if his plan failed, if Katherine didn’t soften toward him tonight at Astley’s Royal Amphitheatre, he would make himself give her up and tell Byrne it hadn’t worked.

His plan
had
to work. She was only suspicious because of his evasions about why he’d remained abroad. As long as she believed it was a wastrel’s lack of interest in his estate, she’d never give him a chance. So he had to tell her some of the truth, even if it were threaded with a bit of… fabrication. When he arrived at the Merivale’s rented town house, their manservant, Thomas, let him in. “Good evening, my lord. Mrs. Merivale is indisposed, and Miss Merivale is in the parlor with another gentleman. Would you prefer to wait here, or shall I announce you?”

A gentleman, eh? Only one gentleman would come here so late in the day—that blasted Lovelace. “I’ll announce myself, thank you. I know the way.”

Alec paused only long enough to relinquish his coat and hat before stalking off to the parlor, his temper rising with every step. Competing with that damned poet for her affections had really begun to pall. He couldn’t wait to make his real intentions clear tonight and put an end to Lovelace’s hold on her once and for all.

But the gentleman in the room wasn’t Lovelace. It was Gavin Byrne. Katherine broke off midsentence. “Alec! I-I mean, Lord Iversley. You’re here.”

His gaze bored into Byrne. “Sorry to disturb you and your guest,” he said without contrition.

“No need to be concerned.” Byrne rose and bowed. “Miss Merivale and I have finished our business, so I’ll take my leave.”

“Business?” Alec said.

“This is Mr. Byrne,” Katherine said quickly. “He was a… er… associate of my father’s. He came to speak to Mama, but she was feeling unwell, so—”

“Miss Merivale was kind enough to meet with me,” Byrne finished.

“I see.” His eyes narrowed. What was his devious half brother up to? “I’m Iversley, a close friend of the family. And one who hopes to be closer still, if I can talk Miss Merivale into accepting my suit.”

Byrne smiled broadly. “Well then, I see my visit was unnecessary. Good luck to you, my lord.” He bowed to Katherine. “Thank you for the tea, madam.”

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As Byrne passed him, Alec told Katherine, “I’ll just make sure Mr. Byrne can find his way out.” Then he followed his half brother into the hall.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the parlor, Alec drew Byrne aside. “What in God’s name are you doing?”