In the Shadow of Arabella (24 page)

Kendall folded the letter carefully and placed it in his desk. All of his lordship’s actions recently had been uncharacteristic in the extreme. It was not like him to change his plans suddenly without notice. Whatever Lady Rudley’s stepfather had had to say during his visit, it had clearly caused a major crisis in the household. Lord Rudley was gone for the foreseeable future, and Lady Rudley had been transformed from a joyful mistress one day to a preoccupied and cheerless one the next.

Not having the benefit of his employer’s confidence, Kendall was determined to follow Lord Rudley’s instructions to the letter. He would do everything in his power to support Lady Rudley through her husband’s absence.

At the end of the third week in August, Oliver, Charity, and Serena arrived in Hampshire and settled in with the easy familiarity of old friendship.

That same evening in the drawing room Serena said to her sister, “I am disappointed that Lord Rudley is away from home. I was so looking forward to meeting him.”

“He is in the north tending to some business matters. He has estates in several parts of the country, Rena.”

“Could you not travel with him?”

“I do not wish to travel now that I am increasing.” She took her sister’s hand and smiled fondly at her. “I cannot expect my husband to constantly dance attendance on me. He has work to do. And, besides, I have you to keep me company, and for a time Charity and Mr. Seaton, too.”

Serena let the subject drop and Katherine was relieved. Tomorrow, when they were alone, Katherine would tell her sister the truth, for she had decided that there could be no half-truths or deception between them. Such behavior had destroyed Rudley’s trust. She would not make the same mistake twice.

Katherine enjoyed watching Oliver with the children. He had the kind of relationship with them that she had so often wished Rudley could have. He loved them freely and openly, and they returned his affection just as naturally. Sometimes, watching Oliver, there would be a gesture or an expression that would put Katherine strongly in mind of Ned, and she would find herself praying for the hundredth time that he would come home.

Two days after their arrival, when Charity had gone with Mrs. Simpson to gather herbs in the garden, Oliver took the opportunity to speak with Katherine. He found her in the blue drawing room doing some meticulous needlework on what appeared to be a copy of his mother’s needlework chair. He had come in silently from the terrace through the open doors and was looking over her shoulder. “Katherine!” he exclaimed. “This is beautiful! How are you managing to do it?”

She smiled with genuine pleasure at the compliment. “Thank you. It was to be a surprise for Ned. It is not difficult, only time consuming. But I have a great deal of time on my hands just now.”

He moved around to the front of the sofa and sat beside her.

“Ned has told you what happened between us?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“I thought as much. Was it your idea or his for you and Charity to come and stay?”

“It was mine, but he approved it.”

“Well, I am glad you came. I was lonely here by myself.”

“Do you resent his leaving you?” Oliver asked.

“He cannot help the way he feels. He thinks I lied to him, and he does not trust me anymore. He made it clear why he could not stay.”

“But he gave you no chance to explain.”

“Even if he had heard my explanation, I don’t think he would have believed me. That is what frightens me so, Oliver. I don’t know if I will ever be able to regain his trust, and if I cannot do that, then our marriage is over.”

“You must be patient with him. He has been hurt in the past—he needs time.”

“There is something I do not understand, Oliver. If Ned told you why he left—what he believes I have done—why would you offer to come and stay with me?”

“I have made some terrible mistakes in my own life,” he offered, “and if I have learned anything from them, it’s that it is not my place to judge others. Ned and I have a lot in common, but in this one way we are very different. He needs to get away when he confronts a problem. He likes to view it from a distance—that is how he manages to gain perspective. I am different. I like to confront conflict head-on, get all the facts on the table with no roundaboutation. I am not saying one way is better than the other. I think both have merits and faults. What I am saying is that Ned’s going away is not altogether a bad thing. It is his way. Eventually he will sort it all out, and if he finds he still has questions that need answers, he will have to come to you to get them. I can tell you this, though. If you are still in love with someone else, it is unlikely you will have any answers that will satisfy him.”

“I am no longer in love with Lord Parnaby, Oliver. I swear to you I am not.”

“You should tell Ned that, if you get a chance. It might help.”

She shook her head despairingly. “I don’t think so. I don’t think he would believe me. What is so awful about this whole situation is that I
knew
Ned was unhappy in his first marriage. He told me so. Now I am responsible for hurting him again.’’ There were tears in her eyes and Oliver reached out to take one of her hands in his. “Oliver,” she continued, “I need to find a way to talk with him, if only for a short time.”

“He will be in London at the end of the month,” Oliver suggested. “Write to him and tell him you would speak with him.”

“Do you think he would come?”

“If you phrase it properly, I do not see how he could very easily refuse.”

Later in the day, with Oliver’s suggestion in mind, Katherine drafted several letters to her husband and finally settled on the following:

My lord,

I find it has become necessary for me to speak with you on a matter of some importance. Oliver has told me you will soon be in town. If you could arrange time in your schedule to pay a short visit to Rudley Court, I would appreciate the courtesy.

Katherine

She showed the letter to Oliver after dinner and he smiled appreciatively. “There is no way any gentleman could refuse such an appeal. You will have your interview, Katherine.”

Oliver had more than one motive in bringing Charity Harrington into Hampshire to stay with Katherine. It was true that he felt Katherine should not be alone. When her condition became apparent, people would think it strange that the earl would leave his new bride in the country while he attended to business two hundred miles away. But it was also true that Oliver was hoping to renew his relationship with Miss Harrington.

He and Charity had enjoyed an acquaintance of only three months before Ned and Katherine’s wedding. Oliver had made plans to remove his son from Rudley Court for the first month of his brother’s marriage and had spent several weeks with Nicholas and his in-laws in Sussex. When he returned to London in mid-May and called in Berkeley Square, he found that Charity had gone home to Lincolnshire. He had missed her by only two days.

He had no intention of allowing Miss Harrington to depart from his life as suddenly as she had entered it, but he had not been able to hit upon any way to see her again. This, then, was his golden opportunity, and despite his concern over the plight of his brother and sister-in-law, he intended to make the most of it.

After four days of being almost continuously closeted with Kendall, Oliver made a bid for liberty and managed to talk his brother’s secretary into giving him a free afternoon. He immediately went in search of Charity, whom he had seen little of except at mealtimes. He found her with Katherine and Serena walking in the gardens behind the house.

“That man of Rudley’s is a slave driver!” he exclaimed as he caught up with them.

“He is certainly hardworking,” Katherine agreed. “But he is grateful for your help, Oliver. He has told me so.”

“In any case, he has relieved me from duty for the remainder of the day, and I am here to ask any or all of you to come riding.”

“I would love to,” Charity answered. “Serena, will you come? And you, too, Katy. Henderson could drive you.”

“I cannot go,” Serena answered. “I promised Pamela I would walk to the village with her today.”

“I would also rather walk than drive,” Katherine added. “But you two go on and enjoy yourselves. There is a little mare, Genevieve, in the stables. I think you might enjoy riding her, Charity. She has a sweet disposition and good paces.”

“Excellent,” Oliver approved. “We shall try her.”

“And you would do me a great favor, Oliver, if you would take Tortuga out,” Katherine continued. “He is miserable with Ned away. I have the stable boys turn him out into the paddock for exercise, but it is not the same. He needs to be ridden.”

“I will be happy to take him if you are certain Ned would not object.”

“You know he would not. We will see you both at dinner.”

For the first twenty minutes of their ride Oliver’s attention was completely claimed by Tortuga. The big bay was very fresh and two grooms were having a difficult time holding him. He was prancing and sidling on the drive, tossing his head. His antics made little impression on the mare, Genevieve, for she was standing quietly as Katherine had promised. Despite Tortuga’s gyrations, Oliver mounted with little difficulty, and he and Charity set off together down the drive.

It quickly became evident that the stallion would not be content with the sedate trot Oliver was demanding of him.

There was nothing for it but to let him blow off some steam. Just ahead was a large open meadow—a flock of sheep grazed contentedly on the far side.

“Will she stand for you, do you think?” Oliver asked Charity.

“I believe so.”

“Wait for me here, then. I will let him get some of this foolishness out of his system.” He put Tortuga at the stone wall that bordered the lane and gave him his head across the meadow beyond. Genevieve made one move to follow him but immediately yielded to Charity’s hold on the rein.

Tortuga galloped with tremendous strength and speed across the field, rapidly eating up the ground with his long stride. Oliver bore left to avoid scattering the sheep. Continuing full circle, he was soon headed back toward Charity.

Watching him, Charity realized she had never before noticed what an exceptional rider Oliver was. Their rides in London had never been a challenge to his ability. As he rode now she was impressed by the harmony between horse and rider. Oliver was instinctively in balance with Tortuga even though, to her knowledge, he had never ridden the horse before.

Charity sighed. As she watched Mr. Seaton, a man she admired more than any other she had ever known, she knew she should be happy, but the situation at Rudley Court did not allow for contentment. Charity had been shocked beyond words when Katherine wrote her of the rift in her marriage and the reason for it. Her natural sympathy brought her swiftly to her friend’s side, even though she realized there was little she could do to help. She knew that under any other circumstances she would believe herself living in a fairy tale. Rudley Court was the loveliest place she had ever seen: the house was a masterful tribute to the people who had built and furnished it with loving care; the servants were forthright and friendly; the grounds were breathtaking, a never-ending source of enjoyment.

Then there was the single most important attraction that Rudley Court offered: Oliver Seaton. He was the man Charity had been searching for and had nearly given up hope of finding. He was warm and compassionate, intelligent and sensitive, and he did not pity her or pamper her because of her lameness. She knew he admired her—she was not certain how much.

Tortuga came perfectly in stride and unchecked over the wall again and was pulled up to stand beside Charity’s mare. His sides were heaving and Oliver leaned forward to stroke his neck. “You will behave now, won’t you, old man? You only wanted to shake out the wrinkles.”

Oliver was full of praise for the horse as he exclaimed, “What a grand fellow he is! I cannot for the life of me discover where Ned finds such animals. He insists the quality comes from the dam’s side, but try as I may, I can never find horses to equal his.” He turned Tortuga as he spoke, then he and Charity set off together to enjoy their ride. Tortuga was a perfect gentleman for the remainder of the afternoon and never once took a step out of line or made further demands to have his own way.

* * * *

Katherine had just finished discussing the next week’s menus with Mrs. Simpson. She made her way up from the kitchen to the blue drawing room—she always seemed to gravitate there when she was left alone. Nicholas and Pamela were busy with their studies. Serena had disappeared into the library with a novel Kendall had borrowed for her at the circulating library in Winchester. Oliver and Charity were riding as they had almost every day for the past week. Oliver had been exercising Karma as well as Tortuga and his own black.

As she entered the drawing room, Katherine paused to gaze at her image in the small gilt mirror above the table by the door. That morning she had chosen a soft white muslin gown, full-skirted and generously embroidered with tiny forget-me-nots. Three rows of perfectly matching blue ribbons surrounded the skirt at the hem while a single row adorned each of the short, puffed sleeves. It was a simple and charming dress, but she was not in a mood to admire it.

In her third month her pregnancy was not yet evident, but she could see in the mirror that it was not her imagination that was making some of her clothes fit more snugly.

She turned from the mirror with a sigh and noted that the roses in the bowl on the pianoforte were past their prime. She took a pair of gardening shears from the secretaire and made her way around the house to the rose garden to cut fresh ones. There were dozens of late-summer varieties in bloom and for some time she simply strolled about, enjoying their heavy scent and deciding which colors to choose for her new bouquet. She finally elected to cut only pink and red flowers and in no time had collected a large number.

Katherine was not expecting Rudley, so when she heard her name spoken close behind her, she was surprised and turned suddenly, dropping several of the roses.