In the Shadow of Arabella (2 page)

“Damn,” Lord Harrington muttered, “this is too much! Stepfather or no, it is not right. I will speak to him, make it clear—”

“Please,” Katherine interrupted, “there is no need. I gave him all the money I had, and he finally took himself off to the Red Lion. The instant the door closed behind him I packed my things. Charity, you asked me earlier if I would accompany you to London. If the invitation still stands, I should like to go.”

“Of course you are welcome,” Charity said. “My aunt and uncle specifically invited you, knowing how long it has been since you visited the city. But what of Serena?”

Before Katherine could answer, Lord Harrington rose to leave, and Katherine regarded him with suspicion. “You will not confront my stepfather, sir?”

“I should like to, but I will not go against your wishes. To know you are safe with us must content me, at least for the present. I need to speak with the coachman about tomorrow’s journey,” he added. “I will leave you two to talk.”

When he was gone, Katherine took the opportunity to confide more to her friend. “There is more, Charity, things I could not say before your father. You must never tell him.”

Charity’s pale blue eyes regarded her friend with concern. “What is it?”

“Do you remember I once told you that whenever my stepfather was in his cups, he would grow disgustingly familiar?”

“Yes, I remember. You said it was the way he looked at you and the things he said.”

“Yes, well, it has become rather worse in recent months.”

“Worse? How?”

“The arguments have become more frequent and more violent. When he shook me today I was truly frightened. I have given him all the money I have, and there are two months and more before I receive funds again. What will I do the next time he asks? I have nothing more to give him. I never told you this, but when I sent Serena away to that young ladies’ seminary in the autumn, my reason for insisting she go was that I did not want her exposed to Sir Humphrey’s outbursts. She is only seventeen and so naive. She was overset for days after she heard us arguing once.”

“But you cannot stay in London forever, and Serena’s term will end in the spring. What will you do then?”

“I have thought this through carefully and I have a plan, but I will need your help.”

Charity shifted closer to the edge of the sofa, eager to hear how she could aid her friend.

“My stepfather will be angry, but he cannot keep me from leaving. The property and its revenues are his, of course, but I have an income of my own.” Charity’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.

“When my mother died,” Katherine continued, “her property—some of it inherited from my father—was settled in equal parts on Serena and me. As Serena’s guardian my stepfather still controls her half, most of which he spends on his horses soon after it arrives. Control of mine came to me when I turned twenty-one. I have been saving most of it the past several years and I believe I have enough. I am going to London with only one purpose—to find a husband.”

Charity regarded her friend in some amusement for a moment and then suddenly sobered. “You are serious!”

“Absolutely serious.”

“But I have no intention of doing the Season,” Charity retorted. “I hate London. You know that. Mama is forcing me to go.”

“Well, you will do me a great service if you will attend functions with me.”

“But, Katy, what about Lord Parnaby? Have you given up hope that things might work out for the two of you?”

“I still love James. I hope to see him when I am in town. When he understands my situation, surely he will help me.” She paused a moment, then continued grimly. “Sir Humphrey says James will never marry me, that he must marry an heiress.”

“What if Sir Humphrey is right?”

“Then I shall be forced to look elsewhere. I have been considering the matter, and I believe I should be able to find someone respectable who is willing to marry me. My family is good, if you discount my stepfather, and I have some money—”

“But what if you cannot find anyone? You had three Seasons—”

“And I had offers, too, you will remember. I will have to be less particular, that is all.”

“I cannot believe I am hearing you say this!” Charity exclaimed. “You who have always said that if you cannot marry for love, you would prefer not to marry at all.”

“That was before Sir Humphrey arranged a marriage between Serena and Archibald Postlethwaite.”

“He did what? That is ludicrous! I mean, I knew Archie was interested, he even dangled after me once, but he is too old for Serena!”

“Sir Humphrey does not think so. He told me today that all is settled. They even chose a date in the autumn.”

“Katy, you cannot allow that child to marry such an old man. She would be wretched.”

“I know. I also realize that I cannot remain in my present situation, never knowing what Sir Humphrey may do next. Of the limited options available to me, I choose marriage. With a husband I will have a home of my own, free of my stepfather’s control, and a safe place to take Serena. For I swear to you, Charity, she will never marry Archie Postlethwaite or any other man she does not wish to.”

Lord and Lady Brent and their youngest daughter gathered in the green salon of their town house in Berkeley Square to await the arrival of their young relative from Lincolnshire. The
Gazette
absorbed Lord Brent, while his wife busied herself with a piece of fine embroidery. Eighteen-year-old Marie, an attractive brunette with soft brown eyes and a small, upturned nose, eagerly paged through the latest issue of her favorite fashion magazine.

Sophia Brent was a kindhearted matron who had managed to retain her youthful figure through the births of seven children. Her husband, Marcus, having raised five daughters, had achieved a level of female tolerance unknown to many of his sex. He had grown accustomed to the atmosphere created by a house full of people. He always enjoyed the visits of his niece and had been pleased to hear that she was coming for an extended stay.

* * * *

The journey had exhausted Katherine and Charity. As their coach finally approached the outskirts of London, Charity said sleepily, “Thank goodness, we are almost there.”

“It has been a long day,” Katherine agreed.

In order to arrive in town early enough to avoid inconveniencing their host and hostess, they had left the inn where they spent their one night on the road at a very early hour. Twelve hours in the jolting coach with only one short stop for a meal at midday had left them tired and hungry. Charity’s maid, Molly, slept peacefully in the corner and the young ladies marveled at her ability to do so. The coach was well-sprung, but the roadway had become rougher as they progressed into the town, yet the bouncing and bumping had not awakened her.

“I had forgotten how noisy the city is,” Katherine commented, as carriages clattered by and people shouted to one another along the streets.

“And how it smells!” Charity added. “There is always so much smoke.”

“As the weather warms, there will be less.” Katherine studied her friend’s frowning face. “Charity, we are going to have a wonderful time, I promise you. Your mother was right; you
have
been rusticating too long. When was the last time you shopped in London or went to the theater? You used to love the theater.”

Charity responded with little enthusiasm. “I do love it. But you know how I hate hobbling about city streets. I feel as if everyone is watching me.”

“If they are, it is only because you are so lovely.”

“Oh, Katy.”

“Truly, Charity, I lose all patience with you. So you limp a little! I would be willing to wager that there are at least a dozen plain, well-bred girls in London who would trade places with you in an instant. I envy you myself, you know— your hair, those eyes.”

“Katy, you are such a liar! You know you would never willingly trade with me. Only look how you love to ride.”

“I have always insisted
you
could ride as well,’’ Katherine said. “It is your father who discourages you. Personally, I think riding is the perfect exercise for you. The horse does all the walking while you sit and relax.’’

“I am never relaxed on a horse,” Charity objected. “They are so big, so unpredictable.”

“You feel that way because you are unaccustomed to them,” Katherine persisted. “You would soon change your mind if you rode more often.”

This conversation was interrupted by their arrival at Brent House. They were warmly welcomed by Lord and Lady Brent, who were delighted that Katherine had decided to accept their invitation after all. When she apologized for giving them no warning, they made little of it, saying the house echoed with empty rooms now that most of their children were married and gone.

The weary travelers were shown upstairs to tidy themselves, and within the hour dinner was served. Lady Brent’s warm good nature, Marie’s bright-eyed admiration of her older cousin and her friend, and Lord Brent’s congenial manners did much to restore their spirits. By the time the young women retired to bed soon after dinner, they agreed that coming to London might be an exhilarating experience after all.

The following morning Lady Brent took her young guests to the morning room, announcing that they had much news to share. Her questions to Charity concerning their trip south were generously interspersed with tales of her four married daughters and her plans for Marie’s come-out this year.

Katherine sat with Lord Brent and in no time they were deep in a discussion of horses—a subject dear to them both.

They had enjoyed perhaps thirty minutes of uninterrupted conversation when the butler opened the door to announce some morning visitors. “The Earl of Rudley, my lady, and Mr. Oliver Seaton.”

Any casual observer would have judged that the two gentlemen now entering the room were related. Both were tall and much the same height, and although the earl was dark and his brother fair, there was a strong resemblance between them. Each possessed dark blue eyes under prominent brows and a marked similarity of feature in the lines of the cheek, nose, and chin. Both were immaculately dressed in proper morning attire: tight-fitting cutaway coats of superfine, skintight pantaloons molded to muscular legs, and gleaming Hessian boots. It would have been hard to choose which was the elder and in fact only two years separated Edward Seaton, fifth Earl of Rudley, from his brother, Oliver. Both men had served under Lord Brent in the army and had remained good friends in peacetime.

Lord Brent rose with a smile and stepped forward to greet his visitors. “Rudley, and Oliver, too! How good to see you. When did you get back to town?’’

“Only yesterday,” the earl replied. “But you are engaged. Perhaps we should call another time.”

“No, no. Do come in. I should like you to meet my niece and her friend. They arrived last evening from Lincolnshire.”

Katherine looked up in surprise when the visitors were announced. She recognized the earl immediately, for they had met the previous year at a hunt ball in Leicestershire. She glanced quickly at Charity and found her friend blushing slightly, but beautiful as always, even after two grueling days of travel. Charity’s bright golden hair was gathered into a knot on the crown of her head, leaving two luxuriant curls to fall over her shoulder. Soft wisps had escaped to frame her delicate face, while her striking blue eyes sparkled as she smiled at the gentlemen. She was breathtaking, and Oliver Seaton was startled into staring, as were most men when they first met her. He recovered himself quickly, however, and stepped forward to be introduced by Lady Brent.

As the earl was introduced and bowed to Katherine, she said, “We have met before, Lord Rudley, but you may not recall.”

“On the contrary, Miss Stillwell, I remember the meeting well. You, Miss Harrington, and, I believe, her parents were the guests of Lord Beecham. It was one of the best hunts of the season.”

“Indeed, it is fine hunting country, my lord.” She smiled and nodded as he moved on to greet Charity. Katherine was not surprised that the earl remembered them, for Charity’s was not a face to be quickly forgotten.

Rudley and his brother stayed twenty minutes only, then, amid protests, rose to leave.

“If you are planning to stay in town for the Season, we are sure to meet again,” Mr. Seaton said. He stood beside Charity’s chair, his own fair head bent over hers and a pleasant smile on his face.

“My aunt is planning a musical evening late next week,” the earl added. “Perhaps you would all join us.”

Lady Brent beamed upon him, accepting his invitation graciously, but after the gentlemen had departed Charity was moved to object. “Are you sure you should have accepted such an invitation for me, Aunt Sophia? The earl’s party is certain to be very grand, and I had not intended—”

“I know what you intended,” Lady Brent interjected. “Each time you come to visit it is the same. You buy a few tawdry dresses; you go to the lending library; you visit those dusty museums. Well, this time things will be different! Marie’s come-out will be at ton parties and balls, and where we go you girls shall go as well.’’

“I am hardly a girl, Aunt Sophia,” Charity objected. “I will be six and twenty in the fall.”

Lady Brent continued as if Charity had not spoken. “Your father has agreed to stand the nonsense, and we shall begin our shopping this very morning. There seems to be an overabundance of silly, empty-headed females on the town this year. It will be refreshing for everyone to have two older, more sensible young ladies to converse with. As for your infirmity, Charity, I will not listen to any nonsense. The Marquess of Strickland’s eldest daughter is coming out this Season. She is blind in one eye, and no one thinks a thing of it. We will go to Lord Rudley’s party, and we will all enjoy ourselves.”

Since no one seemed inclined to dispute this startling decree, Charity said innocuously, “They seem to be pleasant gentlemen, Lord Rudley and his brother.”

“You will seldom find two finer, my dears,” her aunt agreed. “Both quite devastatingly handsome, both with position and fortune. Oliver, of course, has not Rudley’s wealth or title, but I believe that their father, the fourth earl, provided generously for all his children.”