Read Further Than Passion Online
Authors: Cheryl Holt
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Regency
"When will you be back?" Melanie demanded as they trudged into the hall.
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Cheryl Holt
"
Later," Regina replied. "I have many tasks to perform before this debacle is concluded."
She ushered Kate down and out to the mews,
thankfully not encountering anyone. The hack she'd hired was ready, the driver in the box and awaiting directions. They climbed in and were off without incident.
As they traveled toward their destination, Regina was relieved that Kate was quiet. After all, about what had they to chat?
The carriage rumbled to a halt, but Kate didn't indicate that the cessation had registered, and Regina commanded, "Get out."
"Where are we?" she was cogent enough to question.
"I've dropped you at your sister's, which is more than you deserve. I should have thrown you into the gutter to fend for yourself." She opened the door and pitched Kate's bag into the street. "Don't ever contact us. Don't write; don't inquire; don't return to Don-caster. If you dare, you'll be sorry."
Kate dawdled for such a lengthy interval that Regina wondered if she'd have to physically push her out. U
l
timately, she stirred and queried, "Why have you always hated me? What did I ever do to you?"
"I don't hate you," Regina declared. "I don't care about you, at all. You're nothing to me. You never have been. Now be of
f
—
b
efore I take a stick to you again."
Kate stumbled out, groaning as her muscles protested. Regina knocked on the roof, signaling the driver to proceed. In a matter of seconds, she was away, and she peeked out, catching a glimpse of Kate, collapsed on her sister's stoop.
"Whore!" Regina muttered.
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She checked her timepiece, glad to note that she'd be gone when the solicitor's men rolled up behind her.
******************
Selena rushed out, terrified by the frightened summons of her maid.
"Kate!" she cried. "What happened? What is it?"
She knelt down, gripping Kate's hand. It was obvious she'd been beaten, but by whom? And why? Who would do such a thing to a woman? Who would do such a thing to anyone?
Onlookers had gathered
,
curious as to the pathetic, crumpled figure, so Selena and the maid carried Kate inside and laid her on the sofa in the parlor.
"Kate!" Selena was desperate to rouse her. "Who i
s
responsible for this?"
"Regina," Kate managed.
Christopher's mother?
Selena trembled with revulsion. "But why?"
"I didn't steal your money, Selena. I swear it."
"Of course you didn't," Selena concurred. "Who would raise such an absurd accusation?"
"Regina said so, and Marcus believed her."
"Marcus? You mean Lord Stamford?"
"I loved him," Kate groggily confessed. "Did you know that?"
"No, I didn't."
"Regina attacked me, because I loved him."
"Oh, Kate ..."
"I would have fought her, but she knocked me down before I could. Then she hit me and hit me."
"Hush." Selena glanced at her maid and gestured for her to find Edith.
"He's about to marry Melanie."
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"You must have misheard
.
"
"It's true. He was very clear."
"Then he's a fool."
"Yes, he is." She chuckled, half out of her mind with pain and melancholy.
Edith entered as Kate clutched at her ribs and seemed to pass out. Selena used the interlude to have Edith bring hot water and towels, as well as ointments and warming pads for Kate's swelling bones and joints.
Selena spent the next hour calming and soothing her. Kate's panic waned, but was replaced by heartache and sorrow. Selena forced some laudanum down her, and she rested on her side, staring blankly out the window. An occasional tear dribbled out and flowed down her cheek, as Selena patted her hair and murmured soft words of support.
"It's over," Selena told her. "You'll never have to go back there. You'll never have to see her again. I guarantee it."
Silently, she vowed that the outrage would be avenged. If it took till she was a hundred years old, she would ensure that Regina paid for the assault. Regina thought she was omnipotent, but she'd made a fatal error in assailing Kate.
Regina wasn't aware that Selena was about to become Countess of Doncaster. Her perfidy would be thwarted, her despicable deed revealed for the odious, horrid crime it was.
A rapping sounded outside, but Selena was so absorbed with Kate that she scarcely heeded it, so she was irked when Edith led two men into the salon. They were attired as gentlemen, but they exuded a tough,
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coarse attitude that boded ill. They resembled well
-
dressed ruffians, or pugilists at a fair.
"What is it?" Selena rose, instinctively positioning herself between them and Kate. Kate sat up, but she was too dazed to speak.
"They're here for your sister," Edith explained.
"For what reason?"
"They have a warrant, signed by a Mr. Thumberton, who is having her arrested for theft of the funds in your trust."
"What utter nonsense! She's done no such thing!" Selena approached the pair. "Get out of my house."
One of them politely tipped his hat. "Sorry, miss, but we have orders to seize her."
Selena nearly flew at him, but Edith prevented her. "You can't argue with them, Selena. It's the law. You'll only land yourself in trouble."
"Bu
t
... but they can't just make off with her. We can't let them. This is wrong."
"You don't know that," Edith gently chided.
"Oh, but I do! Kate would never deceive me!"
As if Selena were invisible, the duo circled around her, advancing on Kate and roughly jerking her to her feet. She winced.
"Bru
tt
o stupido
!"
Selena bellowed. "Can't you tell she's injured?"
"It can't be helped," one of the knaves contended, as the other pulled a rope from his pocket and bound her wrists. "She's a dangerous felon."
Without another comment, they marched her out. Kate was too stunned to react, and Selena followed behind, frantic to hinder them, but Edith kept her from trying anything rash.
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The men hoisted Kate into a wagon and dropped her on the hard planks of the bed. Kate moaned in agony, and Selena shrieked with indignation.
"Where are you taking her?"
"To Newgate. Where would you suppose?"
"What is Newgate?" Selena asked Edith.
"It's a prison," Edith whispered, and she clucked her tongue in dismay. "It's an awful place."
The pair climbed up onto the wagon, clicked the reins, and the horses started off. Selena ran alongside, unable to see over the wooden panel.
"Be strong, Kate," she shouted. "Don't give up hope. I'll come for you as soon as I can."
******************
Marcus dawdled at his desk, staring at nothing. The sole noise was the tick of the clock. He sipped his whiskey, relivin
g
—
o
ver and ove
r
—
t
he hideous scene with Regi
n
a and Kate.
He was to be married in seven days. To Melanie Lewis! His stomach roiled. How had he tumbled into such a wretched predicament? What must Kate have thought?
The air still reverberated with her presence. She'd looked so small, so young, a beautiful, tragic figure wedged between his disinterest and Regina's wrath. He'd meant to do right by Kate, to save her from ruin and have her safely established in a new life at Don-caster. Why, then, was he feeling as if he'd betrayed her?
His conduct left a bitter taste in his mouth. Regina had been so cogent in her arguments that it had seemed logical to acquiesce to her plan. Yet, despite Regina's
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evidence to the contrary, h
e
didn't believe that Kate had stolen from her sister, and he couldn't understand why he'd been so willing to assume the worst.
He was plagued with doubts. Why hadn't he furnished Kate with a chance to defend herself? Why hadn't he questioned Regina, or at least scanned her documents? Why hadn't he deliberated and pondere
d
— as was his usual habit? He'd simply cut Kate loose, cast her to fates Regina insisted were real, but how could he be certain?
He closed his eyes, and attempted to picture where Kate was at that very moment. Although he hadn't been apprised, he knew she'd departed. He was so attuned to her that he could perceive her absence. The drafty mansion was dead of energy, forlorn and gloomy without her.
Was she on her way to Doncaster? When would she arrive? Would she hate him forever? Would she ever forgive him?
"I'm sorry, Kate," he murmured to the empty room. "So sorry."
Footsteps approached, and he steeled himself, smoothing any hint of emotion from his expression. Pamela staggered in, attired in her nightclothes even though it was late afternoon. It was obvious she'd been awakened to answer his summons. She was bedraggled, her hair down and tangled, and she was pale and drawn, as if she'd been sick at her stomach.
"This better be good, Stamford," she snarled as she stumbled over and sank into a chair. "I was asleep, and it would be best for both of us if I still was. My head is about to explode."
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t
Dispassionately, he scrutinized her, and he struggled to remember why he'd ever imagined himself in love with her. The explanation had to be the impetuosity of youth, for when he peered at her now
,
he felt nothing, not a glimmer of camaraderie, not a glint of esteem, not a flicker of sympathy.
She'd made her bed, and she was about to lie in it.
"You haven't seen Christopher, have you?" she inquired, glancing about as if he might be hiding in the drapes.
"No, why?"
"Last evening, I slipped a little something into our drink
s
—
a
tonic to enhance the moo
d
—
b
ut I'm terribly woozy from it. I'm worried that he might be under the weather, too."
"You've been fornicating with Christopher?"
"He
has been fornicating with me. He can't resist." She raised a brow. "You'll shortly be hearing a great deal more about Christopher and myself."
"I've no idea about what you're talking."
"The boy is absolutely infatuated."
"With you?" Christopher had mentioned that he had a secret, that he'd met someone special, but he was very clear in stating that she was a
girl.
Pamela had to be out of her mind.
"Oh yes. I've discussed the matter with his mother, and she was extremely amenable. You can expect an announcement very soon."
"An
announcement
about what?"
"I'm about to become a countess again."
He chuckled. "You're mad as a hatter. You actually suppose Regina would let
you
have her only son?"
"Why wouldn't she?"
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"Maybe because you're a thirty-year-old widowed, dissolute harpie, whom Regina can't abide."
"I don't feel well enough to sit here and be insulted by you." She stood, ready to stomp out in a huff.
"I haven't excused you."
"As if I need your permission!" She took one bold step, then another.
"Stop!"
She evaluated him, and something in his gaze forestalled her. She wavered, then plopped into her chair, but her exasperation was plain.
"What is it?"
"I'm glad you presume you'll have somewhere to stay."
"Why?"
"Because your days of residing here, and leeching off me, are over."
She gasped. "What?"
“Even as we speak, the housekeeper is packing a trunk for you. It should tide you over for a while, but
you'll need to supply me with an address, so I'll know where to deliver the remainder of your belongings."