Secret Fire (2 page)

“You’re not dried up!” Beth exclaimed. “And you’re certainly not old!”

Katherine glanced up, but she still couldn’t manage to smile. “But I am occasionally a prune?”

“No, not a prune, just—just prim and proper, which is as you should be.”

Now Katherine did smile. “I got this way having to entertain all those old German and Spanish diplomats at the palace. As soon as it was
learned I spoke both languages so fluently, I never lacked for dinner partners.”

“How boring,” Beth sympathized.

“Never say so. It was fascinating, learning about other countries at first hand, almost as good as traveling, which Father refused to let me do.”

“Didn’t you ever get to entertain any dashing Frenchmen? You speak French as well as a native.”

“But so does everyone else, love.”

“Of course,” Beth said, continuing her pacing.

It wasn’t enough. Kit had smiled, but there was still hurt in her eyes. Oh, those horrid, horrid words! If only she had Kit’s control. Kit never said anything she didn’t mean.

A turn about the room brought her close to the window facing the street. The coach drawing up below looked familiar.

“Is Father expecting Lord Seldon?”

“Yes. Has he arrived?”

Beth turned away from the window, nodding. “I never did like that pompous old goat. Remember when we were children and you poured that pitcher of water out the window onto the old fellow’s head? I laughed so hard—”

Beth stopped, seeing that mischievous look enter Kit’s eyes. God, it had been years since she had seen that look. “You wouldn’t!”

Katherine picked up the second vase of water and walked slowly to the window. Lord Seldon was just being helped out of his coach by a liveried groom.

“Kit, you shouldn’t,” Beth warned, but she was grinning from ear to ear. “Father had a fit the last time. We both got the birch.”

Katherine said nothing. She waited until the unsuspecting Lord Seldon had reached the door just under her window, then tipped over the vase. She drew back, a second passed, then she burst into giggles.

“Good Lord, did you see his face?” Katherine said between gasps. “He looked like a dead fish.”

Beth couldn’t answer at first, for she had thrown her arms around Kit and was laughing too hard.

Finally: “Whatever will you tell Father? He’s going to be furious.”

“Yes, undoubtedly. And I will assure him I will dismiss the clumsy servant responsible for such an outrage.”

“He won’t believe you.” Beth giggled.

“Of course he will. He won’t know the difference. He doesn’t concern himself with domestics. And now I must go see to Lord Seldon. I can’t have him dripping all over my foyer. Pray for me, love, that I can deal with him with a straight face.”

Lady Katherine St. John sailed out of the room to do what she did best: soothe and manage. She had also managed to relieve the tension between her and her sister.

“
G
randmère
, he’s coming!”

The young woman flew into the room in a white blur of lace and silk. She didn’t even look at her grandmother, but ran straight across the room to the window where she could view the procession of elegant coaches moving swiftly up the long drive. A small drop of blood appeared on her lower lip where her teeth were set so tightly. Her knuckles turned white from gripping the windowsill. Her dark brown eyes were wide with a very real fear.

“Oh, God, what am I to do?” she cried. “He’ll beat me!”

Lenore Cudworth, Dowager Duchess of Albemarle, closed her eyes with a sigh. She was too old for these theatrics. Well, not really too old, but such drama was not needful at her age. And her granddaughter should have thought of the consequences before she disgraced herself.

“Do compose yourself, Anastasia,” Lenore said quietly. “If your brother does beat you, which I seriously doubt, it’s no more than you deserve. Even you must admit that.”

Princess Anastasia swung around and stood stiffly wringing her hands. “Yes, but—but he will
kill
me! You just don’t know,
Grandmère
. You’ve never seen him in a rage. He has no control over what he does. He will not mean to kill me, but I will be dead before he finishes with me!”

Lenore hesitated, remembering Dimitri Alexandrov as she last saw him four years ago. Then, even at twenty-four, he was an immense man, just over six feet and with a musculature well honed by the Russian army. Yes, he was strong. And yes, he was capable of killing with his bare hands. But his sister? No, not his sister, no matter what she had done.

Lenore shook her head firmly. “Your brother might be angry with you, as well he should be, but there will be no violence.”

“Oh,
Grandmere,
why won’t you listen?” Anastasia cried. “Dimitri has never lived with you as I have. In his whole life you have seen him only a half-dozen times and never for very long. I live with him. He is my guardian now. I know him better than anyone.”

“You have been with me this last year,” Lenore reminded her. “You haven’t even written to Dimitri in all this time.”

“So you suggest he is not the same man, that he will have changed in only a year? No, men like Dimitri never change. He is a Russian—”

“Half English.”

“He was raised in Russia!” Anastasia persisted.

“He travels extensively. He spends only half the year in Russia, sometimes not even that.”

“Only since he left the army!”

They would never agree on Dimitri’s personality. His sister would have him a tyrant, just like their Tzar Nicholas. Lenore knew it just wasn’t true. Her daughter, Anne, had contributed to his character. Petr Alexandrov had not had exclusive development of his son.

“I suggest you calm down before he walks in,” Lenore said now. “I’m sure he won’t appreciate these hysterics any more than I do.”

Anastasia glanced back out the window to see the first coach stopping in front of the huge country mansion. She gasped and rushed across the room to kneel at Lenore’s feet.

“Please,
Grandmère,
please. You must talk to him. You must speak for me. It will not be so much what I did that he will be furious about. He is no hypocrite. It will be that his plans were interrupted to come for me. He sets goals for himself, you see, and he plans everything far in advance. He can tell you where he will be next year to the day. But if something gets in the way of his plans, he is impossible to live with. You sent for him. You made him put aside whatever he was involved in to come here. You must help me.”

Lenore finally saw the motive for this little drama.
And she waits until the last moment so I won’t have time to think about it
. Very ingenious. But then Anastasia Petrovna Alexandrov was an intelligent young woman. Spoiled, pampered, with a highly volatile personality, but intelligent.

So she was to soothe the wild beast, was she? She was supposed to ignore the fact that this young chit had disobeyed her at every turn, had flouted convention, had made her own rules? Anastasia had even refused to return to Russia after the last scandal had broken. If not for that, Lenore wouldn’t have had to send for Dimitri.

She stared down at the exquisite face full of such anxiety. Her Anne had been lovely, but the Alexandrovs were incredibly handsome people. She had gone to Russia only once, when Petr
had died and Anne needed her. She had met Petr’s other offspring then, his three children by his first marriage and his many illegitimate children as well. They were all exceptionally beautiful. But the two that were her grandchildren she loved. They were her only grandchildren. Her son, the present Duke of Albemarle, had lost his first wife before she gave him children. He never remarried or showed any signs of doing so. Dimitri was in fact his designated heir.

Lenore sighed. This chit could wrap her around her little finger. Anastasia needed to leave England until her most recent scandals had time to be forgotten, but Lenore knew she would invite the girl back again. Life might be hectic with her in residence, but it was always interesting.

“Go on, go to your room, my girl,” Lenore said now. “I’ll talk to the lad. But mind you, I don’t promise anything.”

Anastasia leaped up and threw her arms around her grandmother’s neck. “Thank you. And I’m so sorry,
Grandmere
. I know I’ve been a trial to you—”

“Better for me than for your brother, I suppose, if he’s as difficult to live with as you say. Now go, before he’s shown in.”

The Princess rushed out of the room, and none too soon. A minute later Prince Dimitri Petrovich Alexandrov was announced by the butler. At least the poor man attempted to announce him. Dimitri did not wait for such trifles, but entered the room the moment the door was opened and filled it with his presence.

He gave Lenore pause. Good Lord, was it possible he was even more handsome than when last she saw him? Yes, he was indeed. The golden
hair; the piercing, deep-brown eyes; the dark, slashing brows: these were all the same. But at twenty-four there had still been something of the boy in him. Now he was a man, and like no man she had ever seen in her sixty-nine years. He even surpassed his father in looks, and she had thought no man better looking than Petr.

His long-legged stride carried him swiftly across the room, and then he was bowing quite formally. His manners had improved at least, but such imperious bearing—was this really her grandson? And then his teeth flashed in an engaging grin, and his hands gripped her shoulders. She grimaced as he lifted her completely out of her chair for a resounding kiss.

“Put me down, rascal,” the Duchess nearly shouted. “Have a care for my age, if you please.”

She was flustered. Such strength! Anastasia had every reason to be nervous after all. If this towering giant did decide to give her the thrashing she so richly deserved…

“
J’en suis au regret
.”

“Never mind that French rubbish!” she snapped. “You’ve a good English tongue. I’ll thank you to use it while you’re in my house.”

Dimitri threw back his leonine head and laughed, a deep, rich sound, so very masculine. And he was still grinning as he set Lenore back in her chair.

“I said I was sorry,
Babushka
, but you utterly destroyed my apology. You are still as feisty as ever, I see. I have missed you. You should come to live in Russia.”

“My bones could never withstand one of your winters, and well you know it.”

“Then I will have to come here more often. It has been too long,
Babushka
.”

“Oh, do sit down, Dimitri. It hurts my neck to have to look up at you. And you’re late.” He had thrown her for such a turn that she couldn’t resist putting him on the defensive.

“Your letter had to wait until the spring melting on the Neva before it could reach me,” he said as he grabbed the nearest chair and pulled it closer to her.

“I knew that,” she replied. “But I also know your ship docked in London three days ago. We expected you yesterday.”

“After weeks on my ship, I needed a day to recuperate.”

“Good Lord, that’s the nicest way I’ve ever heard it put. Was she pretty?”

“Immeasurably.”

If she had hoped to disarm him with her frankness, she failed. No blush, no excuses, just a lazy smile. She should have known better. According to his Aunt Sonya, who wrote Lenore often, Dimitri never lacked for feminine company, and half that company was married women. Anastasia was correct. He would be hypocritical to upbraid her for her few indiscretions, when his own numbered in the hundreds.

“What do you intend to do about your sister?” Lenore ventured while he was in this pleasant mood.

“Where is she?”

“In her room. She’s not too happy that you’re here. She seems to think you’re going to be rather harsh with her for having been called here to fetch her home.”

Dimitri shrugged. “I admit I was annoyed at first. This was not a convenient time for me to leave Russia.”

“I am sorry, Dimitri. None of this would have been necessary if that silly woman hadn’t made such a scene when she found Anastasia in bed with her husband. But there were at least a hundred guests at this particular party, and half that number rushed to the rescue when they heard the woman’s screams. And Anastasia, foolish girl, didn’t have sense enough to hide her head under the sheets so she wouldn’t be recognized. No, she stands there in her shift and argues with the woman.”

“It is unfortunate Anastasia was not more discreet, but do not mistake me,
Babushka
. Alexandrovs have never let public opinion influence their actions. No, my sister’s offense is that she did not follow
your
dictates.”

“She was just being stubborn and refusing to run from censure, another trait you Alexandrovs have in common, Dimitri.”

“You defend her too much, Duchess.”

“Then relieve my mind and tell me you don’t intend to beat her.”

It took a moment for Dimitri’s bland look to change, but suddenly he burst into laughter. “What
has
the girl been telling you about me?”

Lenore had the grace to blush. “Obviously nonsense,” she said disagreeably.

He continued to chuckle. “She’s too old for a spanking, not that I didn’t relish the idea for a while. No, I will simply take her home and find her a husband. She needs someone who can keep a closer watch over her than I can.”

“She’ll balk at that, my boy. She’s told me more than once that marriage isn’t for her and that her views on the subject come entirely from you.”

“Well, perhaps she will change her mind when she learns that I intend to be married before the year is out myself.”

“Are you serious, Dimitri?” Lenore asked in surprise.

“Completely,” he replied. “It was my courtship that was interrupted by this trip.”

K
atherine placed another cool compress on her forehead and leaned her head back on the chaise. She had retired to her room after her morning meeting with the servants to assign their tasks. And this dreadful headache just wasn’t letting up. But she supposed she had drunk too much champagne at her ball last night. That wasn’t like her at all. She rarely drank spirits at parties, and never when she was the hostess.

Her maid, Lucy, moved about in the bedroom, putting it to rights. The morning tray she had brought remained untouched. She couldn’t stomach even the thought of food just yet.

Katherine sighed long and loudly. Fortunately, the ball last night had been a success, despite her slight intoxication. Even Warren had managed to make an appearance. The evening itself had nothing to do with her present headache. It had been caused by Elisabeth and the message her maid had delivered just as the first guests began to arrive: that because William hadn’t been invited to the ball, she would not attend either.

It was incredible. Not a word out of Beth all week since their talk, not a sigh, not a tear. Katherine had truly thought Beth had accepted the situation, and she had been so proud of her, of how well she was handling this broken-heart business. And then, out of the blue, this about-face, this message that proved only too well that
Beth hadn’t forgotten about William at all—which made her wonder now why there hadn’t been any more tears if that
was
the case.

What the devil was she to think? Oh, she couldn’t think at all right now, not with this throbbing head.

A loud knock at the door made her grimace. Elisabeth came in, dressed in a lovely watered-silk gown of moss green, a going-out dress. She held a silk bonnet in her hand by the ties, and a lacy parasol was tucked under her arm.

“Martha said you weren’t feeling well, Kit.”

No mention of her absence last night, not even a guilty look. And after all the trouble Katherine had gone to for the ball, selecting only the most eligible bachelors in the hope that one might catch Beth’s interest. Well, the ball hadn’t really been any bother. Entertaining two hundred people was a trifling thing when you knew how to make things run smoothly.

“I’m afraid I imbibed a little too freely last night, love,” Katherine said truthfully. “Nothing that won’t right itself by the afternoon.”

“That’s nice.”

Beth was distracted. Why? Katherine wondered. And where was she going?

She wasn’t prepared to mention Lord Seymour again just yet, but she had to know Beth’s destination. An uncomfortable premonition raised its head.

“You’re going out?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll have to ask John to drive you then. Henry took sick yesterday.”

“That—that won’t be necessary, Kit. I’m just going for a—a walk.”

“A walk?” Katherine said stupidly.

“Yes. If you’ve noticed, it’s an absolutely lovely day, just perfect for a walk.”

“I hadn’t noticed. You know I rarely take note of the weather.” Good Lord, a walk? Beth never walked. She had such high arches that walking any distance gave her sore feet. And what was all this uncertainty, this stammering? “How long will you be, love?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Beth said evasively. “I might venture over to Regent Street and do a little shopping before the afternoon crowds arrive. You know how dreadful it can be there between two and four.”

Katherine was speechless, and before she could recover, Beth had waved and closed the door. And then Katherine’s eyes flared and her headache was momentarily forgotten as the most astounding thought occurred to her.
My God, she wouldn’t be that foolish, would she?
But her unusual behavior, that ridiculous statement about going for a walk, the even more absurd suggestion that she might shop—without a carriage to carry her parcels. She was meeting William! And if she had to be so sneaky about it, they had to be going to elope! There had been ample time for him to obtain a license. And the city abounded in churches.

“Lucy!”

The red-haired maid appeared almost instantly in the bedroom doorway. “Lady Katherine?”

“Quickly, call my sister back here!”

The maid fairly flew out of the room, alarmed by the harried note in her mistress’s voice. She caught Lady Elisabeth descending the stairs, and they both returned to Katherine’s sitting room.

“Yes, Kit?”

A definitely guilty look this time, Katherine thought wildly, her mind already racing ahead. “Be a dear, Beth, and confer with Cook over tonight’s menu for me. I really don’t feel up to making any decisions just now.”

Obvious relief. “Of course. Kit.”

Elisabeth closed the door behind her, leaving a confused Lucy staring at Katherine. “Didn’t you already—”

Katherine leaped off the chaise. “Yes, yes, but going to the kitchen will delay her for a few minutes while I change. Now, if only Cook won’t mention that I have already spoken with her, I’ll pull this off neatly.”

“I don’t understand, Lady Katherine.”

“Of course you don’t. I don’t expect you to. I’ve got to prevent a tragedy from occurring. My sister is going to elope!”

Lucy’s mouth simply dropped open at that. She had heard the gossip among the servants concerning Lady Elisabeth and the young Lord Seymour as well as what the Earl had threatened to do if she should marry against his wishes.

“Shouldn’t you stop her, my lady?”

“Don’t be a ninny. I can’t stop her now without any proof of her intentions,” Katherine said impatiently as she unbuttoned her morning gown. “Quickly, I need your dress, Lucy!” Then back to her first thought: “It would be too easy for her to sneak out again when I’m not expecting it. And I can’t very well have her locked permanently in her room. I’ve got to follow them to the church and put a stop to it there. Do hurry, Lucy! Then I’ll take her home to Brockley Hall where I can better keep an eye on her.”

The maid didn’t understand at all, but she quickly stripped off her black cotton uniform and handed it over. “But why do you need—”

“Here, help me put it on, Lucy. You can change into my dress after I’ve gone. So I won’t be recognized, of course,” she said in answer to the maid’s question. “If she sees me following her, then she won’t meet Lord Seymour, and then I’ve no proof, and then I can’t do anything until she tries again. Understand?”

“Yes, no, oh, Lady Katherine, you really can’t mean to go out looking like a servant!” Lucy exclaimed even as she helped to button up the stiff dress.

“That is the whole idea, Lucy, to be in disguise. Even if Beth should see me, she’ll never recognize me in this,” Katherine said, trying to pull the skirt down over her many petticoats. It stuck at the waist. Lucy’s dress was more form-fitting. She wore only two petticoats. “This won’t do. I’ll have to remove some of these flounces and especially this bulky horsehair petticoat. There, that’s better.”

Four petticoats dropped to her feet, and the black skirt slid over her hips easily. A trifle long now, since Lucy was a few inches taller than she, but that couldn’t be helped.

“You don’t wear that long apron when you go out, do you, Lucy?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so, but I wasn’t sure. Oh, why haven’t I ever taken notice of these things? What about a parasol?”

“No, my lady, just that reticule in the pocket—”

“This?” Katherine pulled out a little camel’s-hair bag with long tie strings. “Perfect. You don’t mind if I use it, do you? Good, I do want to look my part. I suppose these rings should go too,” she added, stripping off a large ruby solitaire and a cluster of pearls. “Now for a bonnet, quickly. A poke bonnet, I think. That will help to hide my face.”

The maid rushed in her petticoats to the wardrobe and returned with Katherine’s oldest bonnet. “This really is too nice, my lady.”

Katherine grabbed the thing and swiftly ripped off every embellishment. “Well?”

“As you say, my lady, perfect. You no longer look like a—”

Katherine grinned when Lucy blushed, unable to finish. “A lady?” she supplied, then chuckled as the girl’s blush deepened. “Never mind, my girl. That was the point.”

“Oh, my lady, this—this worries me. Men can be awfully cheeky on the street. You will take several of the footmen—”

“Heavens, no!” Katherine exclaimed. “Beth would recognize every one of them.”

“But—”

“No, dear, I’ll be fine.”

“But—”

“I must go!”

Lucy stood wringing her hands after the door closed on her mistress. What was she a party to? Lady Katherine had never in her life done anything like this. She didn’t really know what she was doing either. Why, just last week Lucy had been accosted by a big brute of a fellow only two blocks away, and she had been wearing that very dress. If a gentleman passing in a fine carriage
hadn’t come to her rescue, she didn’t know what might have happened. But that fellow wasn’t the first to make indecent propositions to her. A working girl had no protection. And Lady Katherine was leaving the house looking like a working girl.

Katherine didn’t exactly look like a working girl. In her appearance, yes, but in her bearing, no. She was still an earl’s daughter no matter what she wore. She wouldn’t know how to act like a servant even if she tried. She didn’t try. That wasn’t necessary. All that was necessary was that Elisabeth not recognize her if she should happen to look back. And she did look back every few minutes, confirming Katherine’s suspicion that she was worried about being followed. Katherine had to lower her head quickly each time. But so far, so good.

She followed her sister down to Oxford Street, where Beth turned left. Katherine kept well back, the green silk gown ahead of her easy to keep track of even when the sidewalks became more crowded.

Beth was indeed heading for Regent Street, in the next block, but that didn’t allay any of Katherine’s suspicions. It was as good a place as any to meet William, not nearly as crowded as in the afternoon, but congested nonetheless with clerks rushing to work, servants shopping for their employers, wagons making deliveries; and being a main thoroughfare, the street was quite crowded with carriages and coaches and advertisement wagons, those dreadful vehicles that caused so many traffic tie-ups in the afternoon.

Katherine lost sight of Beth when she turned onto Regent Street and had to hurry to the cor
ner. But there she stopped. Beth had halted three shops down and was examining the display in one of the windows. Katherine didn’t dare get any closer, so she stayed where she was, impatiently tapping her foot, ignoring the people who passed her. It was a busy corner.

“Hello, luv.”

Katherine didn’t hear him, never dreaming the fellow would speak to her.

“Don’t be snooty, now.” He grabbed her arm to gain her attention.

“I beg your pardon.” She looked down her nose at him, which wasn’t easy when he was a half-head taller than her.

He didn’t let go of her. “Hoity-toity, ain’t you? But I like that.”

He wore a suit, even carried a cane, but his manners left much to be desired. He was rather good-looking, but Katherine didn’t take that into account. Never in her life had a stranger laid a hand on her before. There had always been grooms or footmen surrounding her to keep that from happening. She was at a loss how to deal with this, but instinct made her jerk her arm back. His grip held.

“Go
away
, sir! I don’t wish to be bothered.”

“Now don’t put on airs, luv.” He was grinning at her, liking the sudden challenge. “You’re just standing here with nothing better to do. It won’t hurt you to pass the time.”

Katherine was appalled. Was she supposed to argue with him? Not likely. She had already made her wishes known.

She drew back the hand that clutched Lucy’s sturdy little reticule by the string and let fly at him. The fellow let go of her to jump back. He
avoided being hit, but in doing so, collided with another man waiting to cross the street. That man shoved him away forcefully, with a sharp oath that stung Katherine’s ears and brought vivid color to her cheeks.

The moment her accoster righted himself, he glared at her. “Bitch. A simple no would have sufficed.”

Katherine’s nostrils flared angrily. She very nearly stooped to his level to tell him what he could do with his misplaced indignation. But she had too much breeding for that. She gave him her back, then groaned when she saw that Elisabeth had moved on during the commotion and was nearly half a block away now.