Kate: A Universal Truth (A Wish for Love Series Book 1) (12 page)

Friday, a minute before the hour struck nine, Kate watched from the window which overlooked the street as the Bentley slid to a stop in front of the building.  Kate and Emma, ready for over an hour, went downstairs.  At the entrance they met the driver who was quick to take their bags and open the back door.  Mr. Rawlins was very friendly.  He volunteered the fact that he had been the chauffeur at Bellewoodplain for over twenty years.

“Is Matthew's grandmother at Bellewoodplain?” Kate inquired.

“No.  Lady Theresa will come from Spain with her cousin next Friday.”

“Do you enjoy working at Bellewoodplain?” asked Emma.

“Very much.  The present Marquis, like the previous one, is a fair and generous employer.  He's managed to give the workers the feeling that Bellewoodplain is their home and he's always open to discuss problems that arise.  More than once he's given assistance, monetary or otherwise, to an employee in trouble.  We all admire and love him.”

“What was he like as a boy?” Kate couldn't resist asking.

“Handsome, lively, clever, fairminded and devoted to his family.  He was a loving brother to Lady Rebecca and from a young age was mature beyond his years.”

“What does Bellewoodplain look like?” Emma asked.

“Bellewoodplain is one of the best kept secrets in the world of England's historic houses.  While the special atmosphere of many houses has been ruined by hordes of tourists, buses and souvenir shops, Bellewoodplain has remained hidden, mysterious and only occasionally open to the general public.  Bellewoodplain's beauty lies in its blend of grandeur and informality.  Only a small house and an iron gate indicate the path leading up to the house, a narrow path that seems to lead nowhere.  But if you continue to the top of a small hill the full sweep of Bellewoodplain's majestic beauty lays below.”

When, after a few hours drive, the car came to the top of the hill described by Mr. Rawlins, Kate had to pinch herself to make sure she was not dreaming.  The first thing that struck her were the awesome dimensions of the place.  Not even in fairy tales do such marvelous places exist, she thought excitedly.  The palace was surrounded on all sides by gardens, ponds and meadows that stretched far into the horizon as far as the eye could see.  The skies were clear and the sun's warm rays tinted the house and grounds with gold.

“How many rooms are there at Bellewoodplain?” asked Kate, awed.

“Eighty seven,” answered Mr. Rawlins momentously.

“Eighty seven?!”  Kate almost choked.

“There used to be one hundred and forty rooms but the present Marquis, Lord Matthew, instituted sweeping renovations three years ago which resulted in fewer rooms.”

Kate and Emma were struck dumb.  The car approached the entrance to the house.  Manicured lawns, the carpet of green broken by groupings of flowers in all the colors of the rainbow, ancient trees of various kinds, surrounded the house.  Far off to the left Kate could see a large red brick building, four pillars supporting the triangular entrance.

“Those are the stables,” Mr. Rawlins commented.  “Lord Matthew keeps some of the best thoroughbreds in England,” he added proudly.

“I've no doubt of that,” Kate said under her breath.

The car stopped at the entrance.  An enormous, heavy door opened and John and Matthew came out to greet them.

All Kate could feel at that moment was embarrassment.  How could she look him in the eye?  John kissed Emma on the lips and Kate on her cheek.  Matthew, to Kate's astonishment, followed his friend's lead but in a different order.  Before she understood what was happening, he bent his dark head and kissed her mouth.  For a fleeting moment his warm lips bore down on hers and Kate felt their burning sweetness.  Her lips responded and she pressed them softly against his.  Although the contact lasted only a few seconds, to Kate they seemed an eternity.  He disengaged himself, turning to kiss Emma on her cheek and Kate struggled to calm herself and restore her heart to its normal rhythm.  She knew her face was burning and hoped nobody would notice.  Just to be on the safe side she gazed steadfastly at the ground and refused to look at Matthew.  They entered the hall, decorated with plaster designs and a series of large paintings depicting a succession of Camedon family scenes.  They marched obediently after the men who led them through a long corridor decorated with a collection of swords and breastplates to a chamber where the reigning colors were salmon-pink and peach.

“This is what is usually called the south room,” Matthew commented.  The room was the most sumptuous Kate had ever seen, yet she sensed that this was not the official salon but a room reserved for more intimate entertaining.  Matthew invited them to sit and a gray-haired woman offered a tray of cold drinks and hors d'oevres.  A lively dialog sprang up between John and Emma.  Emma sat on a couch and John beside her, one hand around her shoulder.  Like a pair of doves, Kate thought.  Matthew stood by the fireplace, his hands deep in his pockets, his legs slightly apart in the familiar stance.  He joined the spirited conversation and when Emma described her feelings upon first seeing Bellewoodplain, Kate couldn't resist a surreptitious glance at him.  He smiled engagingly and nodded.

“I can imagine how you felt.  My family has several houses in England and abroad, but of them all Bellewoodplain is the place I love most.  Unfortunately most of my time is spent far from here.  I try to get here on weekends and for longer stays in summer.  After lunch I'll be glad to show you the house and gardens.  Tomorrow morning we'll ride.  I've already chosen suitable horses for you.”

“When can I read the manuscript?” Kate asked.

“The manuscript can wait until tomorrow afternoon,” John responded. “You'll have a long weekend to examine it.  Your only mission today is to revel in the beauty of Bellewoodplain.”

And of its owner, Kate mused.  He was more attractive than ever, dressed in pants that emphasized the long muscles of his thighs and a gray shirt stretched tight over his broad chest with the top two buttons open.

Matthew's lips drew up in a faint smile as he became aware of her stare.  He started walking over to her chair and Kate unconsciously raised a hand to her neck.  She felt the vein pulsing.  He sat on the arm of the chair facing her, his hand resting on his knee, and leaned towards her.  “I'm glad you came,” he said quietly, “nothing gives me more pleasure than to welcome you here.”

Kate swallowed nervously.  He was so courteous and gracious.  “You are much too kind.  I don't deserve such attention.”

He started to say something but at that moment lunch was announced.  They were served in a dining room in the west wing.  From the enormous windows they looked over a pastoral scene of gardens and water that barely hinted at the careful planning and sophistication that lay behind it.  The room was suffused with sunlight and Kate, feeling the tension that had lain so heavily on her slowly melting away, began to behave more naturally. She spoke little but Emma, John and Matthew engaged in animated conversation and the mood was lighthearted.

After lunch Matthew led them on a tour of the house and then, of the grounds.  The overwhelming size of the central chambers such as the grand drawing room known as the 'salon', or the rooms known as the 'blue', 'red', 'yellow' and 'marble', was counterbalanced by the intimacy of the others.  Kate's mouth fell open at the beauty of the library and the vast collection it held. She could not help but envy the person who had the great good fortune to be the owner of this property.  The galleries were laden with rare works of art - antique sets of silver, gold and porcelain, furniture of past centuries and paintings of masters.  Impressive family portraits were hung in one of the most beautiful rooms and Kate lingered before two, of Matthew and Rebecca, painted when each was about ten years old.

Following the tour and the accompanying comments on Bellewoodplain's history, they stepped out into the gardens.  It was four o'clock and the sun followed its cyclical path to the far horizon.  They walked down a long lane of lemon trees and Kate breathed in the scent of the flowers and trees.

“Most of the trees you see were planted over generations by my ancestors,” Matthew explained, “and many of the statues were given to the masters of Bellewoodplain by their house guests.”

Kate could not stifle a cry of wonder when they reached an open glade.  There, rising in grotesque denseness from the green grass, was a cluster of plane tree trunks. Kate's eyes gleamed and her lips parted in a smile of pleasure as this magical, hidden corner cast its spell.  Matthew, in the midst of an anecdote, stopped short for a moment. He felt an uncontrollable urge to lie her down on the soft grass at the foot of the tree trunks and make love to her.  With great effort he concentrated his thoughts and continued his story, never taking his eyes off her.

They continued the tour in the direction of the garden called the 'valley'.  “The valley is the focal point of the gardens,” Matthew explained, “as just above it is the source of the natural spring that provides the two lakes and the gardens with water.  In springtime the floor of the valley is blanketed with white magnolias.  From spring to summer's end, both here and at the borders of the lakes, water loving flowers grow in profusion.”  The view was sublime.  A thick carpet of lilac, lily and rose petals drifted over the green water.

It was now almost six and the air turned cool.  They wended their way back to the house and Emma and John, leading the way, were soon lost to view.  Kate and Matthew walked side by side, Kate's shoulder occasionally brushing Matthews arm.  He did not speak and she tried to gather enough courage to open a conversation.  Finally, by the gilded bronze statue of the Indian god Vishnu, she stopped and Matthew stood still.  Disconcerted, she instinctively lowered her head and her smooth, thick hair, shining in the rays of the setting sun, covered her face.

Matthew felt a need to touch her.  She suited this garden, this house, so well.

She suited him so exceedingly well!

"My affections and wishes are unchanged," he finally said, "but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever."

Her voice shook, her expression was earnest.  “I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am for your help with Jemina.”  She saw his look of surprise.  “I know you told my aunt not to mention a thing, but a careless slip of Jemina's tongue led me to demand the truth from them.  It was truly generous and noble of you, and if I'm bold enough to think that you did it for me, all I can say is that I don't deserve such consideration.  I made a terrible error of judgment about you and I'll never forgive myself for that.”  She saw the fire of the gleaming sparks and the golden ashes that gathered at the edges of his irises.

He was the Lord's most perfect creation.  A masterpiece!

“I'm so ashamed of myself.  Right after all that happened to Jemina I found out the true reason for Lindsay's dismissal from the university.  When I recall the accusations I hurled at you, I just want to die.”  She fought back her tears.  She couldn't bring herself to look at him.  If he's hard on me, I'll burst out crying, she thought, and that will be just too humiliating.  She felt his hand cradle her chin, lifting her face to his.  She felt an immediate sense of relief.

And then of joy.

And then of excitement.

It was not difficult to interpret his look.  The fire blazed, quickly igniting her body, kindling the repressed desire.  He embraced her. His hungry mouth bore down on her passionate lips and time stopped still.  His hand slid from the
hair along her back and he clearly felt the outline of her body.  She was so desirable, so sexy under the translucent layers of the delicate dress.  Kate fired his blood, she was everything he had dreamed of, and as he held her in his arms he felt complete, one with the cosmos, with nature and with the transcendental. As in a dream he heard Emma and John calling them.  Reluctantly, he lifted his head.  When John and Emma appeared on
the pathway between the trees Kate's hand was in his.  Only when they were a few feet away from the other couple did Matthew release it. 

“We thought you got lost,” Emma laughed, “I see we had no reason to worry.”

“I told you they would get along fine without us,” John chided. 

They all laughed and began to cross the lawn that separated them from the house.

“By the way,” said John, “my two sisters and my brother-in-law will join us tomorrow evening for dinner.”

“I'm eager to make their acquaintance,” said Emma, as Kate warmly seconded her.

Kate spent a long hour enjoying the warm bubble bath in the luxurious bathroom.  When she came out she looked about the bedroom with pleasure.  The room was charming and she approved of each detail, beginning with the big, canopied bed with its coverlet richly embroidered with lilies and roses.  She opened the large wardrobe and examined the clothes she had brought.  Today she would dress simply, keeping the prettiest outfit for tomorrow.  She put on black pants and a black sweater.  You can never go wrong with black, she thought.  She closed the door behind her and started for the small drawing room.  Her room was in a separate wing than Emma's, a wing that had not been included in their earlier tour.  Kate suspected this was Matthew's private wing.  She met Matthew at the end of the hall. His hair was still wet and he was clean
shaven.  When he saw her he waited until she reached him. He took her hand in his, leaned down and kissed her palm. Her free hand caressed his cheekbones, sliding down to his neck.