His Obsession (11 page)

“No, it hasn’t.”

“Will you be all right?” Richard softly
asked.

Kate blinked in surprise. “Me? Yes, of
course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Richard smiled, pleased by her response.

“You’re a brave woman.”

“Thank you,” Kate murmured.

“I trust that I may call on you again?”
Richard requested.

Kate stared at the handsome man, unable to
believe her ears.

“Yes,” Kate finally managed to say. “Your
visit would be most welcome.”

The earl smiled, kissed the back of her right
hand and departed. For several minutes, Kate stared at the pale
skin his warm lips had touched. She felt as though she were poised
on the brink of something momentous, some event which would forever
change her life.

As Edgar had predicted, when news of the
sinking of the
Britannica
finally leaked out, the creditors
began arriving at the Overtons’ front door. Edgar placated them
with the last of his ready cash and hastily sent them on their way.
Pity he couldn’t so easily dismiss his wife. Penelope cornered
Edgar in his study and steadfastly refused to leave until he
explained the full extent of their difficulties.

“Well?” Penelope demanded.

“Well, what?” Edgar quipped.

“They were here for money, weren’t they,
Edgar? How much did you give them?” Penelope asked.

“Enough.”

“Edgar,” Penelope chided.

“One hundred pounds each,” Overton finally
admitted.

“It’s started, hasn’t it? Oh, dear,” Penelope
wearily sighed. “I knew – I just knew this would happen.”

Penelope Overton sank into a chair and
clutched her brow in pain.

“I had hoped that Lord Winslow could save us,
but apparently not. If he weds Helen, his father will disinherit
him, and they are so much in love, too. They will marry in spite of
everything. I’m certain of it,” Penelope mused aloud. “Then there’s
no other way out of our predicament?”

Edgar glanced at his wife briefly, then began
to fidget in his chair. Penelope pinned him with an inquiring gaze,
but Edgar rose quickly, crossing the room to stand near the
fireplace.

“We don’t even have enough to pay the
servants,” Edgar grimly explained.

“Edgar?” Penelope prodded. “What do you
know?”

“Hum?”

Penelope frowned and crossed the room to
confront her husband. Edgar wouldn’t look at her, which made her
even more suspicious.

“Don’t think you can fool me after all of
these years, Edgar Overton,” Penelope warned. “You couldn’t that
night twenty years ago and you certainly can’t now.”

Even now, the memory was painful for Edgar
and he winced as horrible images once more flooded his brain. No
man should be forced to watch his love perish in a pool of her own
blood. Nevertheless, Edgar’s sweetheart, Melanie, had given him
Kate, who was the joy of his life.

Penelope and Edgar had encountered a rough
patch in their relationship and Edgar had found solace in the arms
of Melanie Pope. The Drury Lane actress had been so happy when
she’d discovered an abandoned child on her doorstep. A note written
on expensive parchment had been included inside the baby’s basket.
It indicated that someday, the strange, hourglass shaped birthmark
on Kate’s hand would reveal the truth. Edgar was mystified, but
Melanie decided to keep the child anyway. A short time later,
Melanie determined that she was expecting a child herself - Edgar’s
child.

For a while, Melanie was able to continue
working, but when the babe began to show, Edgar set her up in a
small house, with a cook and housekeeper to see to her needs. Edgar
and Melanie talked about the baby for hours. Edgar wanted a boy, of
course, the cherished heir that Penelope seemed unable to provide
him, but it was not to be. Several miscarriages in a row had left
Penelope weak and despondent. Edgar was only too happy to escape
the sad atmosphere lingering at his estate for the loving arms of
his mistress.

Unfortunately, the baby boy had come much too
early. Melanie had gone into labor in the middle of the night when
Edgar was away on business in London. The cook had hurried to fetch
a midwife, but something had happened to the poor woman and she’d
never returned.

By the time Edgar found Melanie, she was pale
and near death, lying in a pool of her own blood. They spoke only a
few words to each other, words of comfort and of love, before
Melanie finally slipped into an eternal sleep. Somehow, she’d
managed to birth the little boy, cut the umbilical cord herself and
wrap the child in a piece of homespun. Still, the child had not
survived her efforts. The baby’s skin was a bluish purple by the
time Edgar found him. Grimly, Edgar had made arrangements to bury
Melanie and the unnamed little baby boy.

The child that Melanie had discovered on her
doorstep a few months before now had no place to go. Edgar found
little Katherine crying alone in her small room. Despite his own
pain and anguish, Edgar thought the little girl was bright and
pretty. He would do as Melanie requested. He would take little Kate
home and raise her as one of his own.

“Tell me!” Penelope shrieked near Edgar’s
ear.

Immediately, the past fell away and Edgar
snapped back to the present.

“I don’t care what we have to do. If you can
save us, Edgar, you must,” Penelope insisted.

Edgar slapped his palm on the armrest so hard
that Penelope leaped back a pace. “And sell my daughter to the
highest bidder? I most certainly will not!”

“Edgar, please.”

“Besides, the Earl of Devonshire doesn’t want
Dorothea,” Edgar informed her. “He wants Kate.”

“Kate?” Penelope gasped.

“That’s right,” Edgar miserably confirmed.
“Kate.”

Penelope blinked in shock. She couldn’t
imagine the earl passing over Dorothea to offer for Katherine.
Nevertheless, the earl might very well be their salvation. It
wouldn’t upset Penelope if she didn’t see Kate so frequently. After
all, the girl was not of her blood.

With their debts erased, the Overton estate
would be no longer be entailed. Perhaps a few acres might also be
sold off to better their lot. For the sake of her own daughters,
Penelope needed money. Lots of money. So, the bargain would be
made.

Unfortunately, Richard Warwick took his time
responding to the Overtons’ summons and did not darken the
Overtons’ doorway until three days later. By that time, several
more creditors had come to call, sending Edgar into a fit of nerves
and finally a mental collapse. Penelope bought off one of the
creditors with her mother’s broach and two more with a silver
chafing dish and an antique silver candelabra. Needless to say,
Penelope was relieved when the earl finally came to call.

At last, it was a lovely day. The morning
rain had given way to brilliant sunshine, but a stiff north wind
promised that the afternoon would not remain so amenable.

Penelope received the earl in the Overton
library. Richard had assumed that Edgar would also be present and
the man’s absence puzzled him.

“Tea, my lord?” Penelope politely asked,
carefully arranging her skirts to best advantage.

“Yes, thank you,” Richard agreed.

“It is rather cold today, don’t you think?”
Penelope continued, making light conversation to fill the silence.
“You must be chilled to the bone. Sugar?”

“Thank you, no. Cream only, please,” Richard
directed impatiently.

Penelope nodded. Once again, Richard glanced
toward the doorway, but it remained empty. He heard no footsteps
approaching the room from the hallway either.

“Forgive me for being blunt, Lady Overton,
but I assumed that your husband would be here to join us,” Richard
noted. “I trust he is well?”

“Unfortunately, no. My husband is a little
under the weather and sends his apologies,” Penelope quickly
supplied.

“I see,” Richard gravely replied. “I hope
that it is nothing serious?”

“No, no,” Penelope assured him with a smile.
“Just a stomach ailment mingled with a cold.”

“Has he seen a physician?”

“There’s really no need,” Penelope
determined. “Cook’s mustard plaster and her famous chicken soup
usually work wonders.”

“Good. Then I wish him a speedy
recovery.”

“Thank you.”

Richard sipped his tea thoughtfully. This was
a turn of events that he hadn’t expected. He was used to dealing
with men. Negotiating with a woman could be a treacherous and
difficult task. Not that Richard wasn’t up to the challenge, of
course. Fencing wits with a female amused him, although few
measured up to his intellect.

“Well, now that we’ve dispensed with the
pleasantries, my lord, please allow me to proceed with the business
at hand,” Penelope began.

“Very well,” Richard agreed.

Penelope retrieved a piece of paper from the
table beside her and passed it to Richard.

“This is the marriage contract. My husband
wrote out the provisions himself, as he remembered them,” Penelope
informed him. “I trust it meets with your approval?”

In an odd way, Richard was disappointed. He’d
expected a battle. It couldn’t be this easy. As he read the
document further, he saw that it wasn’t.

The sum named as the yearly stipend for
Penelope and Edgar Overton was three times what Richard would have
offered. In addition, Dorothea’s dower portion could have launched
one of his own daughters in style – that is, if he had any.

The earl’s eyes narrowed. If he wasn’t
mistaken, he saw Lady Overton’s hand in this. The woman was proving
herself to be a worthy opponent. Very well. So be it. Richard
dropped the paper onto the side table.

“I refuse,” Richard finally declared and
lowered his tea cup.

Penelope’s eyes widened and her cup noisily
rattled back onto the saucer. “But – but you can’t do that.”

Richard rose to his full height. “Thank you
for the tea, Lady Overton, but I have a few more calls to make.
Please give my regards to your husband, to Kate and to your other
daughters.”

“You can’t leave now,” Penelope protested,
half rising from her chair. “We have so much to talk about.”

“Good day.”

“But – but --” Penelope stammered.

Richard barely had time to close the library
door before something hard struck the portal from the other side.
Porcelain shattered on the floor as a feminine shriek of
frustration pierced the quiet afternoon.

Richard grinned as he accepted his hat and
coat from the butler. Without further ado, he calmly departed.

The next day, another creditor came to call
at the Overton household, then a second odious little man joined
him. Penelope instructed Jacobs to say that they weren’t home. That
worked for a day or two, but the men lurking outside were
persistent and creative in their attempts to corner the family.
Eventually, the determined creditors scaled the garden wall,
catching the family out walking. From then on, there was no
stopping them.

Helen was concerned, but her mother’s
explanations placated her for a time. Kate, however, was
suspicious. Kate tried to speak with her father, but the man
claimed that he was too ill to answer or refused to tell her what
was really happening.

On Wednesday, the Overtons’ cook packed her
bag and departed without notice. Both of their maids returned to
their families in the village. On Thursday, their butler, Jacobs,
who had been with the Overton family for years, quietly resigned
his post. Since no one else was qualified to take over the tasks
normally assigned to their small staff, Penelope and Kate began
cooking for the family. Cooking in the hot kitchen exhausted Kate,
but she was pleased that she could at least prepare a few simple
meals.

Helen tried to do her share, too. She dusted
and swept floors. Although she broke two figurines and nearly
tripped her mother in a single afternoon, Kate was grateful for the
help all the same.

Kate soon set aside her morning gowns for the
more serviceable black and white homespun uniform that the servants
wore. Indeed, she rather looked like a servant now. Her hands were
red and blistered, dark circles hung beneath her eyes and she was
rapidly losing weight.

In addition, Kate found herself frequently
listening at doors to learn what was actually occurring around her.
Obviously, the Overton family was in dire straits. Edgar was too
overwrought to discuss the matter and Penelope maintained a fierce
determination that this was only a mild setback in their finances.
Shy Helen wasn’t certain who to believe and Dorothea remained
blissfully ignorant of their difficulties. Nothing seemed capable
of touching the perfect world she had created for herself.

On Saturday afternoon, Kate paused outside
the door to her father’s bedroom when her parents’ loud
conversation carried into the hallway. She could hear her parents
arguing inside, each one of them shouting harsh, angry words.
Although Kate chided herself for eavesdropping, eventually she
heard enough to piece together what had occurred during the Earl of
Devonshire’s last visit. The earl had apparently offered for Kate
in exchange for settling her family’s debts. Penelope, however, had
become greedy and increased her demand. The earl had refused and
walked out.

Kate returned to the Overtons’ kitchen and
sighed as she surveyed the poor state of things. Not only was the
kitchen barely functioning, but their supplies were getting
desperately low. Apparently, there was no money to buy more either.
Every day, more creditors demanded immediate payment. Of a
certainty, if her father’s reputation hadn’t already been ruined,
it was now. No one would allow him to buy anything on credit nor
trust him with a business venture. It was just too risky.

No wonder Edgar was devastated. A man was
nothing without his reputation and honor. Few business ventures
were done under contract. Normally, merely a handshake sufficed to
seal the bargain. Trust was everything among men.