His Obsession (10 page)

Kate blushed at his praise.

“Thank you, but no braver than you, my lord,”
Kate countered. “It was good of you to stop and bring Lord Winslow
here. I can’t imagine what might have happened to him if he’d
remained like this in this rain.”

Suddenly, Dorothea gasped from behind
them.

“Oh, my lord! You’re dripping all over
mother’s carpet!” Dorothea exclaimed.

“My apologies,” Richard murmured, bowing at
the waist.

“Mama, perhaps we can find a room where his
lordship might rest and change?” Dorothea happily suggested.

“Of course,” Penelope readily agreed. “Right
this way, my lord.”

Richard Warwick allowed himself to be pulled
down the hallway by the two chattering women and Kate faded into
the background once again. Since the weather was so inclement, the
earl accepted the Overtons’ invitation to stay the night. Dorothea
was ecstatic.

“He’s going to make an offer for me tonight.
Just wait and see, Mama!” Dorothea gushed.

Penelope Overton enveloped her daughter in
her arms and raised her eyes heavenward. “I hope so, my darling. I
certainly hope so.”

Kate turned away from the sight, absolutely
miserable.

A short time later, Richard and Edgar Overton
adjourned to the study for a glass of port. The earl declined to
smoke a cigar, but happily accepted the glass of amber liquid that
Edgar held out to him.

“That was quite a stroke of luck you had
today, my lord,” Edgar noted with approval. “Without your help, I
daresay young Frederick would be in a bad way by now.”

“I’m happy that I could get him here
quickly,” Richard acknowledged. “You’ve been very gracious, my
lord. Thank you for your hospitality.”

Edgar nodded in acknowledgement.

“Your daughter is quite an extraordinary
young woman,” Richard softly noted.

Edgar had a difficult time hiding his smile.
He knew it! The earl was taken with Kate, but for some reason
hesitated to declare himself. Edgar decided to bait the earl a
little in an attempt to draw him out.

“She is indeed,” Edgar agreed, blowing a ring
of smoke toward the ceiling.

“Her education is remarkable.”

“Thank you. She has attended the finest
finishing school and had tutors in dance and etiquette. I daresay
she’ll make some man a fine wife.”

The earl shifted uncomfortably, not certain
that they were speaking about the same daughter. “I daresay,”
Richard guardedly acknowledged.

“However, I realize that she sometimes has a
tendency to overdo it. Her gowns are always in the latest style and
her dressmaker is used by the queen herself,” Edgar proudly
declared. “Believe me, I have the bills to prove it!”

“Indeed,” Richard grumbled.

No doubt, the Overtons’ current financial
difficulties were partially the result of such excesses, Richard
mused.

“It’s quite the rage right now. She’s just
the thing a fine young man like you needs,” Edgar proposed.

Richard arched a brow. “A dressmaker,
sir?”

Edgar chuckled. “Of course not. A wife, my
lord. A wife!”

Richard grinned.

“On that point, we are in agreement, Sir,”
Richard told the older man.

“Excellent!” Edgar cried. “Dorothea will be
ecstatic.”

Immediately, Richard frowned. “Dorothea?”

“Yes, my daughter, Dorothea,” Edgar
confirmed.

“Sir, I believe that you may be mist--”

“Why my daughters were discussing it only
yesterday. A double ceremony would be just the thing,” Edgar
exclaimed.

“You misunderstand me, sir.”

“I know all about it, my lord. You don’t have
to love the girl, you know? I really didn’t fall in love with
Penelope until after we were married,” Edgar admitted. “After that,
it was too late to change my mind, eh?”

Edgar laughed openly, but the earl shifted
uncomfortably in his chair.

Richard could find nothing amusing about his
predicament. Setting his glass down, he strode over to the mantel
and stared down into the leaping orange flames. Perhaps the easiest
way to break the news to Overton was to be bluntly honest.

“Forgive me, sir, but I have no desire to wed
your daughter, Dorothea,” Richard firmly told him.

“What’s that?” Edgar asked.

“I would, however, ask your permission to
marry your youngest daughter, Kate,” Richard stated.

Edgar thought he heard a muffled feminine
gasp on the other side of the study door, but he might have been
mistaken. Dorothea, no doubt. The girl was entirely too eager for
her own good. Although Edgar would have preferred to spare his
child this painful news, he could not be sorry that the earl’s
intentions were finally out in the open.

Still, as Kate’s father, did he really wish
her to marry? Kate was the joy of Edgar’s life. How many mornings
had he awakened, anticipating some new question she might pose,
some new puzzle to which only he knew the answer? He had even
enjoyed her childish antics, although she hadn’t attempted anything
spectacular in quite some time. She was now too old for that. Age
did that to people, Edgar supposed. Growing older took all of the
fun out of them, making them dry and stodgy.

Edgar couldn’t imagine being without Kate. A
piece of his heart would go with her. Edgar was certain that he’d
never be quite the same again.

“No,” Edgar gruffly decreed.

Richard was clearly surprised, especially by
the curt tone of the refusal. He’d expected some hesitation and
perhaps some discussion of the matter, but not an outright
refusal.

“May I ask why?” Richard demanded, his long
fingers tightening around the edge of the mantel.

“Kate is too young to be married without my
consent and I do not give it,” Edgar declared.

Richard bristled, barely restraining his
anger. “Would you deny her the chance to have a life of her own, a
home and a family?”

“Her home is here with us.
We
are her
family,” Edgar explained.

“For how long, sir? Helen will marry Lord
Winslow as soon as he has recovered. Dorothea will probably be next
and where will that leave Kate?”

“Where she belongs!” Edgar fervently decreed.
“You’ve seen Kate’s talents. At the very least, she’ll be the
perfect nurse for her mother and me in our old age.”

Richard’s eyes narrowed in silent
challenge.

“And where will that be, sir, debtor’s
prison?” the earl asked. “Surely, she deserves better than
that?”

Edgar paled at the earl’s accusation, but
Richard smiled grimly.

“Oh, yes. I know about your family’s
financial difficulties, sir. Why I headed off two of the
blood-sucking leaches only the other day,” Richard informed
him.

Edgar plopped into his chair, clearly
stricken.

“How much longer do you think you can hold
out? A few days or a week?” Richard softly inquired, leaning over
the older man’s chair. “Where will you find the capital to host a
wedding for one of your daughters and dower the other two?”

Suddenly at a loss for words, Edgar opened
and closed his mouth repeatedly, unable to frame a suitable
response. With a sigh, Richard straightened, giving Edgar some much
needed breathing room.

“I do not make it a habit of threatening my
host, but you leave me little choice,” Richard told him. “You have
something that I want. For that reason, and that reason alone, I’m
willing to be generous.”

Richard could feel the other man’s eyes
burning into his back as he crossed to the fireplace and leaned one
arm against the mantel.

“In exchange for Kate’s hand in marriage, I
will settle all of your present accounts down to the last farthing.
You and your wife will be given a modest stipend which, if you’re
frugal, should last you approximately one year,” Richard proposed.
“I will personally pay for Helen’s wedding and provide a sizeable
dower portion for Dorothea, too, one which should attract a
suitable gentleman of quality.”

Overton’s eyes flicked up with interest and
hope.

“However, if you agree, you will see Kate as
little as possible. Unless she wishes it, only at Christmas time,”
Richard decreed.

Edgar’s face crimsoned with rage.

“That’s preposterous!” Edgar exploded. “How
dare you, sir! She’s my daughter.”

“Kate and I will be wed immediately. I’ve
already secured a special license, so there’s no need for us to
take a coach to Gretna Green. I assume that the local vicar can
recite the vows?” Richard inquired.

“You can’t – You can’t do this,” Edgar
complained.

“I can and I will.”

“Who do you think you are, sir?” Overton
cried.

“I make this offer only once, so consider it
well. Bless our union and all will be as I have said. Your estate
will remain intact, Helen will be married off in style and Dorothea
settled with a dowry that should draw a duke’s attention,” Richard
stated. “Refuse it and I’ll not stand in the way while the sheriff
and a host of hungry creditors arrive at your door. The choice is
yours.”

Upstairs in Dorothea’s bedroom, Penelope did
her best to calm her daughter.

“Oh, Mama! He hates me! He hates me!”
Dorothea wailed in agony.

Penelope awkwardly patted her daughter’s
shoulder. The girl lay sprawled across her elaborate bed, her face
and eyes red from crying. Kate had heard the sounds of weeping and
quietly entered the room to see whether she could be of some
assistance.

“There, there, dear,” Penelope soothed. “I’m
sure you must have misunderstood.”

“I didn’t. He said he wanted to marry Kate.
Now, I’ll be an old maid!” Dorothea cried.

“Me?” Kate gasped near the doorway.

Dorothea reared up in anger. “Yes, you! I
hate you! Get out. Get out!”

Penelope patted Dorothea’s back and nodded
toward Kate. “Perhaps you’d better go, Kate. She’s very upset.”

Dorothea once more erupted into a fit of
tears and Kate wisely retreated to her own room. Could it really be
true? Did the Earl of Devonshire want to marry her? Could he even
now be closeted with her father, discussing the marriage
contract?

Kate smiled and her heart sped up in
excitement. She was very flattered. It wasn’t every day that such a
man proposed marriage. The viscount’s offer paled by comparison. An
earl wanted to marry her! She’d be a countess. What an amazing
honor. No wonder Dorothea was so upset.

In the space of a few moments, all of
Dorothea’s hopes and dreams had been shattered. Once again, she’d
be just plain Dorothea Overton. Perhaps her father could ask
Frederick to help dower Dorothea. Kate knew that with enough
financial enticement, Dorothea could choose any suitor she wished.
Timing was everything. Kate would have to wait until the perfect
moment to plead her case.

It seemed, however, that bad news came in
threes. The following morning, the Overtons’ fortunes suffered
twice more. Old Lord Winslow sent a horrible letter to his son,
forbidding him to marry Helen since she was not of noble blood. If
Frederick ignored his parent and proceeded with the wedding despite
his father’s protests, he would be cut off without a cent. Both
Frederick and Helen were devastated.

When she got up, Dorothea would also hear the
bad tidings. Her elder sister had never risen before noon her
entire life. Nevertheless, when the clock chimed two in the
afternoon and Dorothea still had not made an appearance, Penelope
softly knocked on the door and entered her daughter’s room to make
certain all was well.

Dorothea’s bedroom was cold and damp and it
was quickly apparent why. One window hung completely open, allowing
the cool air and a spitting rain to enter the room. One wet curtain
was plastered against the wall and the second dripped onto the
floor below. Dorothea was nowhere to be found. The bed was empty;
in fact, it had never been slept in.

Kate followed her mother into the room.
Quickly, she shut the gaping window on a knotted bed sheet that
trailed over the window sill and extended all of the way to the
ground.

“What on earth?” Kate mused aloud.

“No! It cannot be!” Penelope cried,
collapsing onto the edge of the bed.

“What is it?” Kate inquired.

Penelope held up a single sheet of paper that
she had retrieved from Dorothea’s table. “They’ve eloped.”

“Dorothea?” Kate asked.

Penelope nodded miserably. “And Viscount
Marbury, of all people.”

“What? I don’t believe it,” Kate gasped.

“They ran off to Gretna Green some time
during the night. By now, they’ll be married,” Penelope surmised.
“It’s so far away. I didn’t even get to see her, to tell her all of
the things a bride must know. And the scandal! When word of this
gets out, we’ll be ruined! Ruined, I tell you!”

It was too incredible to be true. As she
cleaned up the floor, Kate’s mind was busy attempting to reconcile
the chain of events leading up to Dorothea’s elopement. Although
Marbury was apparently desperate for a bride, Dorothea certainly
had given no indication, no sign that she was plotting anything.
How had it happened then? Had Marbury thrown stones at one of the
Overtons’ windows, hoping to bring Kate into view? Instead, he must
have found Dorothea and decided to run off with her.

Once their mother got over the initial shock,
Penelope couldn’t stop crying. In the face of Lord Winslow’s harsh
decree and Dorothea’s hasty departure, the Overton women spilled
buckets of tears.

Amidst this tragic scene, the Earl of
Devonshire prepared to depart. Edgar Overton was noticeably absent,
too. So, the earl paid his respects to a despondent Lord Winslow
and descended the stairs. Kate quickly shouldered her duties as
hostess and escorted the earl into the front hall.

“I’m sorry that my father couldn’t be here to
see you off, my lord,” she apologized.

“No harm done, Lady Overton,” the earl
acknowledged. “This has not been a happy day for your family.”