Puritan Bride (16 page)

‘So you are Marlbrooke’s bride.’ If she had to respond to that observation one more time, delivered by some Court beauty with raised brows, glossy curls and a supercilious air, Kate felt that she would explode! But she learned quickly how to reply. A calm smile. A condescending inclination of the head.

‘Indeed. I am Katherine Harley.’

‘I believe your family once owned Winteringham Priory? Before losing it to the Oxendens when your father fought for Parliament.’ There was invariably an accompanying curl of the artfully rouged lips.

‘Yes. Winteringham Priory is legally mine. It was stolen from my father. But I have now returned and my family are once more in possession.’ She would raise her chin a little. ‘And Viscount Marlbrooke, of course.’

‘It is a sudden decision, is it not? We had not realised that Marlbrooke intended to wed. He will be sadly missed if he decides to absent himself from Court for any length of time.’

‘Our marriage is an obvious outcome, both desirable and to the benefit of all parties.’ The challenge in Kate’s eyes dared anyone to contradict her. ‘Where we shall live for most of the year will be a matter to discuss after the ceremony.’

‘So, when will you be married?’

‘Very soon. My lord Marlbrooke desires a rapid conclusion. As I do, of course.’ Which effectively put an end to most interested, if patronising, enquiries. And, in all truth, Kate had to admit that she came to enjoy the encounters.

So did Lady Elizabeth, when she chanced to hear the end of such.

‘I see that you have the makings of a politician, dearest Kate. I cannot tell you how pleased I was to see Lady Templeton discomfited. She had high hopes for her daughter—a disagreeable girl.’ Her eyes glinted in appreciation. ‘I do believe that Marcus would be proud of you!’

‘Perhaps. But do not tell him.’

*  *  *

The Viscount did not need to be told that his betrothed was the subject of much speculation and comment. And he used his own methods to allay it and smooth her path. For the most part, he remained at her side, attentive and charming, to protect and encourage. When he could not, she was still firmly in his vision, so that he noted the approach of Mistress Dorothea Templeton, once an object of Marlbrooke’s casual interest.

‘Do you not dance, Mistress Harley?’ Here Kate recognised an enemy of some calibre in the flash of blue eyes and the toss of honey curls.

‘No. I have never learned these French dances, which are so fashionable.’ She decided on honesty as the best policy. But not too much!

‘How unfortunate.’ They watched the dancers draw to an end in a stately corant and then step into a more lively saraband. The pavane, Kate had already realised with a whisper of regret, was not in fashion. The lovely Dorothea showed her teeth—and a dimple!—in what might have been mistaken for a smile. ‘Life at Court is so tedious if one is unable to dance. Do you not find it so? But then, you have not had the advantage of mixing in Court circles, have you, Mistress Harley?’

‘Why, no. My uncle, Sir Henry Jessop, would have condemned such superficial frivolity and so ensured that my education was on a higher plane.’ Before she could
say more, Kate felt a hand rest lightly on her wrist as a smooth voice at her shoulder answered for her.

‘Mistress Harley has not had the opportunity to indulge in dancing, Mistress Templeton.’ The Viscount stepped forward and bowed with graceful ease. He lifted his eyes to Kate’s. She saw the mischief lurking in their depths. ‘Her gifts, which you should know are considerable, lie in quite another direction.’

‘Indeed, my lord?’ Mistress Templeton assayed an arch look, fair brows raised in delicate wings.

‘Indeed, ma’am. You would not believe the extent of her skills.’

Don’t mention chickens or salted fish!
Kate held her breath, but kept a polite smile pinned to her face during the interchange.

‘Then I must look forward to knowing you better, Mistress Harley.’ The lady was now not nearly as confident.

‘I too,’ Kate responded as she deliberately placed a proprietorial hand on Marlbrooke’s sleeve. ‘Lady Elizabeth has spoken of you and told me much about you. I feel that I know you well already.’

On which unsettling comment, and with no encouragement to linger from the Viscount, Dorothea found an excuse to return to her mother’s side.

‘Congratulations, Viola.’ The Viscount eyed her with interest. ‘You have vicious claws, I see. And need no help from me to keep the harpies at bay.’

‘No, indeed. But I …’

‘What is it?’

‘I hoped that you would not shame me by mentioning …’

‘Chickens?’ He laughed aloud, his striking features alight with pleasure, causing others to turn their heads. ‘What a delight you are to me.’ He bent to press a kiss to Kate’s hand where it still rested on his arm and then—to her shock—to her temple.

‘My lord!’

‘Now what? Why do I always seem to be the object of your displeasure?’

‘No … I …’ She stammered helplessly, caught up in his devastating allure. ‘It is so public. People will see us.’

‘I have done nothing improper,’ he assured her. ‘I am allowed to show my considerable regard to my betrothed.’ He pulled her hand through his arm to lead her through the elegant rooms. ‘If you do not dislike it, of course.’ He slanted a quick glance down to her upturned face. ‘I should hate for you to retaliate with your fist, as you once did.’

‘I would not!’

‘I am relieved to hear it. Then, since we are for the moment in such pleasant accord, let us see if this more than tedious reception can provide us with some refreshment.’

Yes. They were in agreement, she thought, as he procured for her a glass of sack.

But it did not last long.

She was unfortunate to overhear a conversation between Marlbrooke and an elderly, stout lady in opulent satins, who patted his arm in a familiar gesture of longstanding acquaintance.

‘So you have brought your future bride to Court. Pretty enough—but a country girl I presume, by her strange hairstyle.’

‘Yes. That is Katherine Harley. And there are reasons for the cropped curls.’

‘Ah, so you will be mysterious, my lord. I forgive you. You are very like your father, God rest his soul. What a shame that you have to wed her to safeguard your property. I hope that we will still see you—that you will not absent yourself from Court and settle down to the tedium of country life.’

‘I expect to spend some time at Winteringham Priory.’

‘And is it your intention to rebuild Glasbury Old Hall?’

‘It is in my mind.’

‘I can understand. But surely, my dear Marlbrooke, the Court holds too many enticements to keep you long in the country?’

Kate did not hear his response as they moved away. But she found herself wondering if the enticements had golden curls and blue eyes, and if so, whether the Priory would be enough to keep him by her side.

She smiled reassuringly at Elizabeth, leaving her to believe that she had not overheard the exchange. But
her heart was sore and she could find little enjoyment in the remainder of the evening.

It might have been mended between them.

Next day Marlbrooke bought her a fan, a little half-circular folding device, cunningly crafted and delicately painted with violets.

‘It is very pretty.’ Kate opened it to reveal the tiny flowers around the edge. ‘I have never owned a fan before.’

‘Perhaps I should teach you how to use it.’ Marlbrooke smiled at her solemn expression. ‘So that you can flutter it and flirt madly—and have all the gentlemen in submission at your feet.’

‘I could not!’

‘Of course you could.’ He wilfully misunderstood her. ‘You have me at your feet, after all. And I am reputed to be a hard case.’

She looked up, startled, resisting as he captured her fingers and proceeded to slide his teeth along the ends, nibbling gently. When she tried to clench her fingers into a fist to thwart him, he resisted, prised her hand apart and promptly transferred his mouth to her palm. ‘I can feel the beat of your heart through your blood,’ he murmured against her soft skin. ‘It has quickened a little. I hope that I am the cause.’ She felt his mouth curve provocatively against her palm.

‘I …’ She had no idea what to say.

‘I think you do not know how lovely you are. That your eyes are the colour of the violets on your fan. But it is to my advantage.’

‘I am not like the ladies at court!’

‘No. You are not.’ Suddenly serious, he released her hand and captured her eyes with his. ‘But you are yourself. And you have all my love.’

‘I do not belong to this world.’ She could not look away or disguise the hint of panic.

‘Perhaps not. But you belong to me, and that is all that matters.’

He snatched a kiss from her surprised lips—might have changed the angle and deepened it—but then stepped away from her as Felicity, returned from her dutiful visit, entered the room.

He left her speechless.

And even more so on the following morning when Kate rose from the breakfast table.

‘I think that we should spend a little time investigating the shops in Westminster Hall.’ The week had overlapped into two. Lady Elizabeth was now eager to make the most of her time before Marlbrooke announced their departure. ‘Will you accompany me? I have need of some new lace—and silk stockings, perhaps a pretty fur muff and … and any number of things that might take my fancy!’

‘Of course.’ Lady Elizabeth noted the slight crease which appeared between Kate’s dark brows.

‘Would you not wish it, dearest Kate?’

‘Why, yes. Only …’

‘What is it?’

‘I … I have no money.’ Kate was unsure why such an admission made her uncomfortable—except that it drove home the fact that she was totally dependent on the Oxendens.

‘Kate!’ Elizabeth laughed gently. ‘Of course you have money. What can I be thinking of? The pleasure of spending it has apparently addled my brain. I would expect your marriage settlement to allow you considerable pin money to fritter on French fashions. You are—or will be—a very wealthy young woman. And I had forgotten.’ She rose from the breakfast table to search in the depths of an court cupboard. ‘Marcus has gone hunting with the King this morning to Richmond Park, but he left this to give to you. He knew of my intentions today.’

Kate took the embroidered purse, noted its weight, the chink of coins and read the attached note:
Viola! You are allowed to spend money and enjoy it! It is not necessarily a sin!

The forceful hand in black ink was all Marlbrooke.

She clutched the purse, her female heart aware of the possibilities. And if she remembered Gilliver’s warning, she hastily pushed it from her thoughts. ‘I would be delighted to go shopping with you, my lady!’

Once more, Marlbrooke had surprised her by his thoughtful consideration, when she would have liked
nothing more than to find some reason to feed her resentment against him. Would she ever understand him? She doubted it.

But the most abiding picture, one that was to return to haunt her, was far more unsettling.

Her experience of him at the Priory had been of the country gentleman. Now she saw him as the accomplished courtier. Well versed in the ways of Whitehall, charming and urbane, with all the grace and elegance to captivate any woman. His athletic figure, broad shouldered and long limbed, was shown to advantage in the luxurious velvets and satins of court dress, but which could not disguise the tough smoothness of muscle and latent power. His dark hair curled and tumbled to his shoulders, as thick and lustrous as the velvet on to which it curled. What woman would not wish to touch it, to feel it sift through her fingers? And the beauty of his face would trouble any woman’s dreams.

Marlbrooke might flirt with her but, as Kate soon learned, he was also capable of flirting with others. With Mistress Alicia Lovell. Mistress Harley set her teeth.

‘He does not mean anything by it.’ Elizabeth had seen the direction of her critical gaze as they sat together at a Court ball. Her heart went out to the young girl beside her when she assessed the splendid tableau of the dancers. And for once Lady Elizabeth could cheerfully have slapped her adored but careless son.

‘Of course not.’ Kate turned her eyes from Marlbrooke’s figure, her smile bright—and false. ‘It is of no matter to me. Marlbrooke is free to dance with anyone of his choice. And as I am unable to master these difficult steps in public, I could not expect him to dance attendance on me.’ She deliberately turned her back on her betrothed, but then felt compelled to watch him lead Mistress Lovell into a dance. Compelled to watch him as he bowed with exquisite grace and flamboyant gesture over her pretty hands. As he responded to some flirtatious remark with a bent head and an engaging smile. And then proceeded to execute the complicated steps with elegant finesse. His black brows rose, his lips curved as his hands met hers in the dance …

How dare he!

And then Marlbrooke moved on to partner the exquisite Frances Stewart, deliciously feminine in an extravagantly low-cut gown …

Whatever else, Kate was forced to acknowledge bitterly, he was hugely in demand.

And equally with the King and the men who frequented the Court—to play cards, to hunt, to while away the time with tennis and fencing.

In her bedchamber, Kate had to accept the truth of what she had seen in this short time at Whitehall. How could Marlbrooke possibly love her when the sophisticated and beautiful were at his beck and call? How could
he possibly wish to bury himself in the country away from all this glamour?

But if that were so, why had he told her that he loved her? He was contracted to marry her anyway. He did not have to love her as well.

So why declare himself so openly?

Kate’s mind roved over the possibilities, liking none of them. A spirit of mischief? To woo and seduce an innocent and ignorant girl from a sheltered Puritan family. Of flirtation? To while away the days of boredom until he could return to London. Worst of all, was he playing some sort of malicious game at her expense? A continuation of the Civil War hostilities between their two families?

No, she could not think it. In all fairness, she could find it in her heart to accuse him of none of those. Marlbrooke had never treated her with such cruelty. Would never. She was sure of it. He had never been anything but considerate and thoughtful of her difficult situation. It was simply that … she did not know him. And, as Felicity had pointed out, her world was far removed from his.