Regency Debutantes (44 page)

‘Excellent.’ The dowager beamed. ‘The child could not be in better hands. Dr Porter attends all our family and is one of the best physicians in London. Treated Nicholas when he was a boy. I remember twenty years ago when …’ She went on to reminisce over her grandchildren’s childhood ailments and the antics that caused them, much to Kathryn’s amusement. In light of Lady Maybury’s stories her aristocratic family did not seem quite so daunting. They were still laughing when Lord Ravensmede returned.

The clock on the mantel chimed six. ‘I hadn’t thought it so
late,’ said Kathryn. ‘I must return home. My aunt was expecting me before now.’

‘Oh, but we have not even begun to discuss the other matter.’ The Dowager Countess’s small eyes brightened.

Kathryn did not miss the conspiratorial look exchanged between Lady Maybury and her grandson. She felt herself stiffen involuntarily and eyed the elderly lady with suspicion. ‘What other matter?’

Lady Maybury crowed a small sharp chuckle. ‘Well, my dear, you’re nothing if not blunt!’

‘Please do forgive me, my lady.’ Kathryn looked away awkwardly at her sudden lapse in manners.

‘It’s a trait I admire,’ declared Ravensmede’s grandmother. ‘Can’t stand these milk-and-water misses who are scared to say what they think. Would agree with anything I say. Faugh!’ The sunburst of wrinkles deepened as the top lip curled with contempt. ‘Much prefer a gel who’ll tell me the truth!’ A smile replaced the frown. ‘So, Miss Marchant, how do you find me?’

The grey eyes widened and she stared at the dowager. ‘How do I find you?’ she repeated with rising incredulity.

‘That, indeed, is the question,’ affirmed Lady Maybury with a twinkle in her eye, and the same mischievous look that Kathryn had seen cross her grandson’s face on occasion.

A short pause sufficed to frame Kathryn’s reply. ‘Why, I find you to be very nice, and I’ve enjoyed your company greatly this afternoon.’ It was the truth no less.

‘Splendid!’ her ladyship returned in increasingly exuberant tones. ‘Then you’ll have no objection to accepting my offer.’

‘Your offer?’ Kathryn said slowly, aware that she sounded rather like a simpleton who could do nothing other than repeat the questions asked of her.

The faded green gaze locked on to hers. ‘To become my companion for the next two months of my visit.’

‘Oh, no, my lady. I’m afraid that would be quite impossible. My aunt and uncle—’

‘Nonsense!’ chirped the grandam. ‘I’ve already made my mind up and I don’t mean to take no for an answer.’

‘But—’ She tried again, to no avail.

‘I’ve a need for a companion. Can’t stay in London with only Nick for company. He’ll drive me mad before the week is out.’ She snorted in the direction of her grandson.

Kathryn glanced over to see a smile curve Lord Ravensmede’s lips.

‘I’m afraid that my grandmother is quite right. All those wild card parties, the brandy, the gambling…She needs someone to keep her on the straight and narrow. I confess it’s a job beyond my capabilities. Why, just look at the shocking influence she’s already had on me.’ The straight white teeth flashed and one dark eyebrow raised in a crooked gesture.

For all that she tried to resist, Kathryn felt the smile tug at her lips and looked abruptly away from temptation. Was it possible? Could she really just leave the torment of her life within the Marchant household? A brief flame of hope flickered…and then expired. Uncle Henry and Aunt Anna were her relatives, had offered her a home, albeit a miserable one, for the last three years. Wasn’t it her duty to act as Lottie’s companion until her cousin was successfully married? And if Aunt Anna had her way, a husband for Lottie would be netted before the Season was over. Perhaps then she could…Such thoughts were futile. Lady Maybury desired her as a temporary companion only during her visit to London. And afterwards? It was quite beyond question. She raised her eyes once more to Lady Maybury. ‘I thank you for your generous offer, my lady. Indeed, it’s most kind of you to even consider asking me, but I’m afraid that I’m forced to decline. It’s my duty to act as Lottie’s companion until she’s—’

‘Surely Mrs Marchant attends all of the society events along with her daughter?’ The elderly voice was severe in the extreme.

‘Yes, but—’

‘Then, what does the chit need a companion for? As an unmarried
and young lady you can hardly be expected to act as her chaperon can you?’

Kathryn felt the net closing around her. ‘No, but—’ ‘I suppose I should not be surprised that you prefer to accompany a pretty, young chit to dances than spend your time assisting an old woman who is not much longer for this earth.’

The dowager seemed to shrink before Kathryn’s very eyes, her narrow shoulders closing in, her velvet cheeks growing gaunt. A hollow cough rent the air.

Guilt stabbed at Kathryn’s breast. ‘No, it isn’t—’ ‘Do not worry yourself, Miss Marchant.’ A blue-veined hand dabbed a delicate lace handkerchief to each faded eye. A sad little sniff…and then the dowager played her trump card. ‘I shall contrive my best to attend the injured child upstairs, but at my age …’ The words trailed off. ‘Such a strain on my health, the worry of it all …’ Lady Maybury sniffed again and a tremor quivered upon her lips.

Dear Lord, but the old woman was clearly distraught and in danger of working herself into a fit of the vapours! Kathryn leapt forward and took one frail old hand within her own.

‘That poor urchin …’ There was what sounded to be a definite sob in her ladyship’s voice.

Kathryn gently rubbed the paper-thin skin covering the back of Lady Maybury’s hand. How could she make her understand that it really was not her choice at all? That she would much rather leave behind the house in Green Street and live her life as the dowager’s companion? But it was not a matter of want. ‘Dear Lady Maybury, please do not think that I don’t want to accept your kind offer, or help little Maggie. There’s nothing I would rather do, but—’

The old lady clung to her, her eyes brightening of a sudden. ‘Oh my dearest gel! I knew that you would see sense; that you wouldn’t be so heartless as to sentence an old lady to a season of loneliness and ill health. I cannot tell you the relief!’ Ravensmede’s grandmother’s smile was wonderful to see.

‘But—’ started Kathryn uselessly, and stopped. The old lady was looking at her with such expectation that she could not correct the mistake. It would be a cruel and heartless woman that could shatter such joy. Who knew the effect such a shock would have on the lady’s health? Kathryn swallowed down that sinking feeling and forced a smile to her face. And not once did she allow herself to look in the direction of the lady’s grandson standing so tall and silent by the fireplace.

The small girl lay still within the great bed, her brown pansy eyes trained upon Kathryn’s face.

‘How old are you, Maggie?’

‘Four,’ the little voice whispered back.

‘And do you remember where it is that you live?’

‘Whitecross Road, the top room in Number Sixteen.’

‘Good girl! You’re really very clever. I’ll send a message to your mama and papa so that they know where you are and aren’t worried about you.’

Two fat tears rolled down the cheeks that Kathryn had just cleaned. ‘Want to go home. Want me ma.’ A hiccup sounded.

Kathryn wiped the tears away. ‘Of course you do, moppet. And when you’re better, so you shall. The doctor’s looked at your leg and do you know what he said?’

The question distracted Maggie away from the sobbing she was poised to commence. ‘What?’

‘He said that it isn’t broken at all, only bruised, and that it will get better very soon. But until then you’re to rest in bed and eat lots of food.’

Maggie’s eyes opened wide at the prospect. ‘Lots an’ lots of food?’

‘Lots and lots and
lots!’
confirmed Kathryn with a grin. ‘And I’ll be here to tell you stories and talk to you, so you won’t be lonely at all.’

Maggie smiled up into the kind face that hovered above hers.

A creaking of the door and Lord Ravensmede materialised
by the bed. Kathryn struggled to get to her feet, but was stayed by a warm hand touched to her elbow.

‘No need to get up on my account.’ His voice was both deep and melodic, without a hint of the practised drawl he used when he was out.

She raised her eyes to his and felt a shimmer of excitement ripple down her spine. Just his proximity caused her heart to race. Her fingers fluttered to rearrange the fichu that she had recently replaced. Averting her face, she sought to turn her mind from inappropriate thoughts of the Viscount of Ravensmede. ‘Maggie is a very clever girl and has told me where she lives.’ With great gentleness she stroked the child’s forehead.

Ravensmede smiled. ‘Very good.’

Whether this remark was addressed to herself or Maggie, Kathryn remained unsure.

Maggie was regarding the tall dark-haired man solemnly. ‘Are you the pa?’ she asked quite suddenly.

‘The pa?’ Ravensmede looked rather bemused.

‘Are you?’ The round dark eyes had not wavered from his face.

Ravensmede glanced with amusement at Miss Marchant.

‘You
must
be.’ The strands of black hair so carefully combed out by Kathryn bobbed up and down as the child nodded. ‘And you must be the ma,’ added Maggie with certainty to Kathryn. ‘Where are your little girls an’ boys?’

Crimson flooded Kathryn’s cheeks. ‘Hush now, Maggie, you’re tired and need to sleep. I’ll come back and see you later.’ A small kiss was dropped to the little girl’s forehead.

‘Promise?’ the baby voice queried.

‘I promise,’ vowed Kathryn and rose to her feet, casting the child’s previous innocently uttered questions from her mind.

Ravensmede opened the door and waited for her to pass through, before following her out into the passageway.

A throaty laugh sounded. ‘Ma and pa!’ And the look that
smouldered from those green eyes caused a dancing sensation deep in Kathryn’s belly.

She kept her gaze straight ahead, concentrating on each step, the pink-and-gold patterned carpet, the pale gold-coloured walls with their wall sconces and elaborate gilt-framed paintings, anything other than the man walking by her side. He was so close she could almost feel his heat scorching the full length of her left-hand side. Living in the same house as Lord Ravensmede was going to prove difficult in more ways than one.

Firstly, there was the simple fact that he was a bachelor, coupled with the not-so-small problem of his reputation. Secondly, Aunt Anna and Uncle Henry were not likely to receive the news of her move well. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, was the strength of her own inappropriate reaction to the Viscount. From their first encounter over Miss Dawson’s shoe, to that unwitting kiss and the subsequent calamity with the potatoes in St James’s Park, Kathryn was well aware of the trouble resulting from that very reaction. The more she thought on it, the more she came to realise that, even as Lady Maybury’s companion, living under the same roof as Lord Ravensmede was likely to prove a dangerous pastime—and one that she could not afford to risk, even if it did mean an escape from Aunt Anna’s cruel treatment. All she had left was her reputation, and that wasn’t something that she was prepared to jeopardise. She did not want to hurt Lady Maybury, or leave Maggie for that matter, but the alternative was far too threatening to contemplate. The decision made, she pressed her lips firmly together and stopped abruptly.

Ravensmede had stepped past her before reacting to her halt. ‘Miss Marchant?’ He sauntered back to stand beside her.

‘My lord, I …’ The words were rushed before her fragile resolve could fail. ‘I know that I agreed to your grandmother’s most kind offer, but upon further reflection I’m afraid that it is—’

Ravensmede took her hand within his and raised it lightly to his lips. ‘For your kindness to my
grandmother you have my gratitude. She’s very dear to me and I would not like to see her ill or distressed. Her heart is weak and the family have been advised that she must be spared all that we can. Any shocking news, any great disappointment is to be avoided. That’s why I’m so relieved that you have the generosity of spirit, Miss Marchant, to indulge an old lady’s whim.’ Warm lips pressed against the roughened red skin of her hand.

Kathryn felt the breath catch in her throat. She blinked several times to clear her head. And stifled the groan.

‘Grandmama is rather set in her ways. As you may already have noticed, she’s very much determined to do things in her own style, even if it does rather fly in the face of what is deemed convention.’ He smiled. ‘She often takes irrational sets against people, but rarely have I seen her warm to someone as she has to you. My grandmother likes you, Miss Marchant, and that really is quite an achievement.’

It seemed that there was no way to extricate herself from the agreement.
But surely the Viscount himself can see the position in which I would be placed?
Kathryn’s thoughts flitted back and forth. ‘My lord—’

‘Please, call me Nicholas.’

Kathryn recoiled as if he’d slapped her. Call him by his given name? Indeed she would not!

The smile deepened. ‘Or Ravensmede, if that is your preference.’

She gritted her teeth and started again. ‘Lord Ravensmede …’ Confound the man, but he was laughing at her. Anger flushed her cheeks and she raised steely eyes to his. ‘This is a serious matter, not some tomfoolery for your amusement.’

His mouth straightened but those mesmerising green eyes were still brimful of laughter. ‘Indeed, Miss Marchant, I assure you that I had no such thought.’

With a tug she rescued her hand from within his. ‘You cannot be unaware that living here as your grandmother’s companion would place me in a somewhat awkward position.’

The green eyes opened wide and innocent. ‘Whatever can you mean, Miss Marchant?’

Her anger deserted her of a sudden and she sighed. ‘Just that you are a bachelor and that, as an unmarried lady, perhaps I’m not best placed to accept the position offered.’ There, she had said it. She found sudden fascination in the patterned carpet.

‘How old are you, Miss Marchant?’

She looked up in surprise. Of all the answers she had expected this had not been one. ‘Four and twenty, my lord.’