His Obsession (12 page)

Penelope was too proud to go to the earl
herself and beg his indulgence, as was Kate’s father. Their
situation was desperate. Kate suspected it was only a matter of
time before the sheriff knocked at their front door and hauled her
father off to debtor’s prison.

The Overton estate would be sold to help pay
the creditors and the three women cast out to fend for themselves.
Kate knew that she would somehow find a way to survive. Penelope
might cry and complain a little, but she was a survivor, too.
Somehow, they would find a way to keep going.

Helen would be devastated. Helen was a
follower by nature, but she’d had little instruction in maintaining
a household. In that, their mother had been quite remiss.

Dorothea would likewise be shocked if she
learned of their difficulties. For years, Penelope and Edgar
Overton had sheltered Dorothea from anything that might upset their
precious daughter. Dorothea simply had no experience dealing with
adversity. She’d always gotten exactly what she wanted.

Perhaps, if they were lucky enough, the bank
manager might be generous and allow the Overtons to have a small
cottage to rent for a month or two until they could get back on
their feet. Perhaps Kate could sell some of her paintings to bring
in a little pocket money, as well.

Helen and Frederick might very well have to
live with them, too, although Frederick’s presence in the house
might prove to be of little use. Frederick was a nobleman. He
probably hadn’t done an honest day’s work in his life. It would
also be some time before his arm healed enough for him to attempt
any sort of manual labor. Perhaps, until he was better, Frederick
might hire himself out as a tutor or a clerk. That might provide
them with another valuable source of income.

Kate sighed and punched the bread dough on
the counter down again. For the life of her, she wished she could
diminish their financial woes with such ease. It was all like some
terrible dream, a nightmare come to life.

Kate prayed in church, too, pleading for
guidance and salvation. At last, she realized that she had to
attempt to see the earl herself. Could she do it? Could she agree
to sacrifice herself for the sake of her family?

If Kate agreed to marry the Earl of
Devonshire, there would be no turning back. Once wed to Richard
Warwick, she would remain his wife forever. Kate didn’t believe in
divorce. No doubt Richard felt the same. The earl would hardly
allow his title and family to be so disgraced.

Once wed, Richard’s will would be her own.
Like any dutiful wife, Kate would be subject to his every whim, his
every desire. Indeed, if Warwick wished to beat her, even the
church would turn a blind eye to her torment. He could devour her
will, consume her soul, and there was nothing Kate could do to
prevent it.

At least, that was what society assumed.
Somehow, Kate couldn’t imagine suppressing her will completely for
the sake of her husband. She was an intelligent and resourceful
young woman. If the earl wished to have her as his bride, she would
accept for the sake of her family. However, if he assumed that
she’d remain docile and as unobtrusive as a doormat, the man was
quite mistaken.

Now, certain of her course, Kate later sought
out her father. She tapped at the bedroom door lightly, half hoping
that Edgar might be resting.

“Father?” Kate asked. “May I speak with you
for a moment?”

“Of course, Kate,” Edgar immediately replied.
“Come in. Come in.”

Kate was pleased to see her father smiling
again. Perhaps he was finally recovering. Maybe he would feel even
better when he heard her proposal.

“I have something to tell you,” Kate
began.

Edgar pursed his lips, his eyes twinkling
with merriment as they had when she’d been a child.

“This sounds serious. Come and sit down,” he
directed. “Now, tell me what you think is so important.”

Kate leveled her gaze at her parent, her
green eyes penetrating and intense.

“I
know
, Father,” Kate emphasized.

“Hum?” Edgar innocently inquired.

“I know about the marriage contract.”

Edgar’s eyes widened in alarm.

“And I agree to its terms,” Kate went on. “I
will marry the Earl of Devonshire whenever he wishes.”

“No, Kate. You cannot possibly imagine what
you’re agreeing to do,” Edgar explained, his face grave.

“It’s what I want, Father,” Kate insisted. “I
do care for him - at least a little. Not to mention that the
marriage would solve all of our financial difficulties virtually
overnight.”

“You’re my daughter, Kate. You don’t have to
sacrifice yourself to the whims of a – a madman,” Edgar growled. “I
know we’ve been through some tough times lately, but things are
getting better.”

“Better?” Kate scoffed. “Father, look around
you. The silver is disappearing piece by piece. Soon, we shall have
nothing left with which to eat. The two paintings of grandfather
Overton are gone.”

“Sold?”

Kate sadly nodded.

Edgar closed his eyes in pain. Those
portraits had been in the family for years. Penelope should have
known better than to palm them off to some creditor for a paltry
sum.

“The food is nearly gone and there’s no money
left to purchase any more,” Kate added. “I have no choice.”

Edgar patted Kate’s hand affectionately,
struggling to put a smile on his face for his youngest daughter.
“Don’t worry, my dear. Cook could make porridge taste like roast
venison if she had to.”

Kate stared at her parent. “Cook left us
almost a week ago.”

Edgar blinked in confusion.

“Then who has been preparing the meals?”
Edgar inquired.

“We did what we had to do.”

Edgar guessed the truth in a few moments.
Wordlessly, he rolled Kate’s normally pale hands over and winced at
the raw blisters he saw on her flesh.

“My God, Kate,” Edgar breathed. “I had no
idea things were so bad.”

Ashamed of her injuries, Kate quickly
withdrew her hands and walked to the window.

“Mother doesn’t like to worry you,” Kate
softly advised him. “I think she’s afraid that you’ll have another
relapse.”

Edgar stared at his youngest daughter and
slowly shook his head. How could he allow her to marry the Earl of
Devonshire? Although frequently successful, Richard Warwick was
ruthless in his business dealings.

In addition, Warwick had once been quite a
ladies’ man. No doubt if Kate failed to please him, Warwick would
simply pick up where he’d left off, taking a series of lovers to
satisfy his needs. If he did, Edgar knew Kate would be incredibly
embarrassed.

Kate was highly intelligent. If he had to
choose among his three daughters, Edgar was proudest of her.
Nevertheless, in matters between men and women, Kate was hopelessly
naïve. Edgar himself had sheltered her from the amorous ramblings
of the ton. He doubted if Kate had ever been kissed, much less
anything more.

And a man like Richard Warwick would want
more - much more. He’d be a demanding lover, perhaps even a violent
one. Passion often consumed even the stoutest hearts. How could he
allow Kate to sacrifice herself like this?

“Tomorrow, I shall go to the earl and inform
him of my decision,” Kate boldly declared.

“You’ll do no such thing.” Edgar insisted. “I
cannot allow you to do that.”

“We have no choice, Father. If I don’t go,
we’ll starve – that is, if the sheriff doesn’t come for us
first.”

Edgar paled, reaching for a handkerchief to
dab at his brow.

“Is that what you want, Father?” Kate asked.
“What will become of us when the sheriff arrests you and takes you
away? The estate will be sold. We’ll have no place to go and no
place to live. Is that better?”

“I absolutely forbid it!” Edgar stormed.

“Very well,” Kate declared with a nod of her
head. “You leave me no choice.”

Edgar’s eyes tracked his daughter as she
rounded the bed. “And what would that be?”

“What any other sensible woman in my position
would do, of course. I – I will compromise myself,” Kate
decided.

“Kate!” Edgar gasped, pushing himself up in
bed.

“Then you’ll have no choice but to agree to
the marriage.”

“No. It’s the Devil’s own choice. You don’t
know what you’re saying,” Edgar objected.

Kate sighed heavily, as she started for the
door. “Perhaps not, but I shall learn.”

“No, Kate! Don’t do this,” Edgar pleaded.
“Kate! Kate!”

Her father’s cries followed Kate all of the
way down the hall, but she kept walking, certain that she was doing
the right thing.

Kate left the house. She knew she had to act
quickly before the day’s chores began and before she lost her
courage. Briefly, Kate considered walking all of the way to the
earl’s estate, but rapidly changed her mind. If she arrived at the
earl’s doorstep in a sorry state, she’d hardly make a good
impression. As it was, Kate was dressed more like a servant than as
a member of the nobility.

The dark, wine colored homespun gown clung to
Kate’s generous curves like a coarse blanket, but now that she was
outside, she was grateful for the thickness of the cloth. When the
wind picked up, whipping Kate’s skirts around her ankles, she
didn’t feel so chilled. Pulling her shawl a little tighter around
her shoulders, she lowered her bonnet into the wind and strode for
the barn.

With difficulty, Kate saddled the plow horse
herself. The sway backed old mare was the last of the horses
remaining in their stable. Edgar’s prize stallion and beautiful
matched pair of chestnut mares had already been sold. By the time
Kate got the girth tightened around the horse’s large middle, she
was weary. With an effort, Kate climbed the corral railing like a
ladder and somehow managed to swing her leg over the horse’s broad
back.

Kate rode astride this time. The sidesaddles
had fetched a few coins each and there was little need to make a
good impression without the thoroughbred horses in the stable.
Although unfamiliar, Kate had to admit that her seat was better
this way. Kate found herself enjoying the ride, even though her
purpose in venturing outside was a grim one.

Kate paused at the crossroads, pulling the
plow horse to a stop. To the right lay Lord and Lady Faversham’s
beautiful estate and sanctuary. To the left and several miles down
the road was the Earl of Devonshire’s mansion and her destiny.

Kate glanced fondly over the horse’s right
shoulder. If she went to visit Lady Faversham, the woman would be
kind and understanding. For an hour or so, Kate would feel better,
but not even the Favershams could save Kate’s family. Even if Lord
Faversham made her father a short term loan, it would only delay
the inevitable. Edgar Overton could never repay it. He had no
resources.

With an effort, Kate turned her head. The sky
was darker in that direction and the wind was picking up, lifting
the hair from her shoulders. The breeze carried with it the scent
of impending rain. She had to hurry or she’d look like a half
drowned rat by the time she reached the earl’s mansion.

Kate urged the tired old horse forward and
reluctantly, the beast finally complied. It didn’t take long for
the animal to tire, however, and the poor creature soon slowed to a
plodding walk. This time, no amount of urging on Kate’s part could
convince the animal to move faster.

Thunder rumbled overhead and the horse’s eyes
grew wide with fright as the mare glanced around her. With a sudden
crack of lightning, the skies finally opened up. Kate could
scarcely breathe through the downpour and she was soaked to the
skin within moments. Kate kept a firm hand on the reins, talking to
the old horse as the worst of the storm passed overhead.

Weary and drenched, the old nag slowed even
more. Clouds of steam rose from the horse’s nostrils, too, making
it even more difficult for Kate to see where they were going.

Kate shivered in her cold, wet clothes,
completely miserable. A steady stream of droplets dripped from the
top of her bonnet and she could feel the cold wet ribbons plastered
beneath her chin.

Finally, the old mare stopped walking
completely, standing in the middle of the road with her head down
in utter misery. Kate called to the creature and slapped her legs
against the horse’s sides. Unfortunately, the old horse wouldn’t
budge.

Exasperated, Kate finally swung one leg over
the horse’s side and slid to the ground. Wet mud splattered upward,
marking her dark skirts and oozing into her shoes.

Gathering the reins in one hand, Kate tugged
the beast forward with determination. The creature moved
reluctantly, bracing herself against the driving wind and rain. Mud
sucked at Kate’s shoes, running over the tops of her feet and
squashing beneath her instep. Once, she lost her left shoe in a
more determined looking mud puddle and had to go back to get it.
Kate supposed that having some covering on her feet was better than
walking down the lane barefoot.

They struggled forward toward the earl’s
mansion. Kate’s arms ached from the awkward angle of pulling the
horse behind her and the leather reins bit into the blistered flesh
on her palms. Still, Kate never gave up. She couldn’t. Kate knew
that the moment she and her mount gave in to their weariness and
found a place to sit down and rest beneath a tree, they’d be done
for.

So, Kate pulled and pleaded with the
obstinate animal, eventually cursing at the stubborn horse the way
her father might have, had he been present. Kate managed to half
pull, half drag the old mare to the near side of a bridge, but once
there, the animal refused to move another step.

The muddy, swirling water frightened it and
no amount of tugging or convincing swayed the animal. Kate could
see small trees rushing by, borne along by the onslaught of water.
She prayed that somehow, the bridge would hold long enough for them
to get across.