Only Scandal Will Do (23 page)

But her weeping could mean she was not as self-possessed as she let on. Perhaps she
was
lonely. If so, he could woo her gently over time, become her friend before becoming her lover. The thought sent a pang to his loins, but he held resolute. He would demonstrate that he was not the coldhearted wretch he had been before. God, what on earth had possessed him that night?

He released the latch and backed away. Much as he hated leaving her alone and hurting, he would wait and plan a strategy. Katarina, as he had noted, had a very bad record of keeping her promises where he was concerned. Perhaps the right persuasions would change her mind one more time. He could only pray it would be so.

Chapter 20

Next morning, Kat awakened to Margery opening the bronze damasked draperies, which let in an appalling amount of light.

“God, Margery!” She pulled the covers over her head. “Have pity. You ply me with strong drink then wake me at the crack of dawn with light bright enough to be the Second Coming.”

The muffled words drew a sharp “Hah!” from the maid, but the rustle of material said she continued to open drapes and began to lay out clothing.

Kat peeked from beneath the coverlet. Margery had set out a yellow-print morning gown. “I’ll need my riding habit this morning, Margery. I am to ride with Jack before breakfast.”

“Then it will have to be tomorrow morning, my lady, for the clocks have struck ten already.”

She sat up abruptly. “Ten o’clock in the morning! Jack was expecting me.”

“Yes, my lady, but the marquess left strict instructions you were not to be disturbed until you woke on your own. Said you’d been overtired last night and needed your rest.”

“Then why did you wake me now?”

Margery fixed her with a wry look. “Those who lie abed too long start to make a habit of it, my lady. Besides,” Margery’s eyes twinkled wickedly, “you did wake on your own. It’s not my fault if you can’t sleep in the daylight.”

Kat glared at her then jumped out of the bed in alarm. “Jack! He must think I’ve been beaten to death!” She started to throw off her night rail, only to find Margery at her side.

“Don’t fret, my lady. Lord Manning is downstairs finishing his coffee with Lord Dalbury.” The maid sent her a knowing glance, arching her delicate brows and inclining her head. “I put a word in his ear as soon as he come this morning that you were fine, just sleeping. He settled tolerably well after that.”

Some of her panic left at this revelation, but she trembled at the idea Jack had breakfasted alone with Dalbury. That was a dangerous combination. Either collusion or combat was possible, and no way to tell which way the wind would blow. “Just help me dress quickly. No telling what mischief I’ll find, leaving those two together for very long.”

Fifteen minutes later, she ran down the staircase, listening for sounds or signs of mayhem in progress. All was quiet. Too quiet. She now stood in the main hall, unsure where breakfast might be laid. No servants presented themselves for guidance, so she walked to the nearest door and opened it. This was now her home after all; she had the right to enter any room she pleased.

A small, impersonal receiving room glittered bright and empty, so she closed the door and turned toward the rear of the house. The next room, equally empty, showed more warmth in its furnishing. A dusky pink and cream motif–embroidered tapestries of flowers and shells, dainty silk brocade upholstered chaise lounge, and elegant Queen Anne chairs with cushions–made this room inviting and feminine. This was likely where Juliet received her callers. She withdrew and marched to the next room, wondering if she would stumble upon another soul before she starved to death.

The final door on the left side of the hallway proved to be to an office, which held a massive Chippendale desk piled high with neat stacks of paperwork, books and ledgers. Behind the desk sat her husband, impeccably dressed in blue coat and breeches, and the last person she wanted to see this morning. He raised his head at her entrance, and she flushed.

“Oh, excuse me.” She withdrew, and the door clicked closed. As she started down the hallway, the door was jerked open and her hand seized in that iron grasp she was coming to know all too well.

“My Lady Dalbury,” he said, his voice a trifle higher than usual. “I trust you slept well in your new home last night?”

She’d expected mockery, after that wretched scene last night, but his tone held no hint of disparagement. She stole a glance up at him to find him frankly assessing her face, as if he were indeed sincere. “It was tolerable, thank you, my lord,” she replied. “As I said last night, yesterday was a trying day.”

“Indeed, it was so for many of us, my lady, though you seemed to bear the brunt of it. I am sorry for that, but I hope that now life will settle down and you can enjoy your new home in London.”

Would he forever keep her off balance? She had expected recriminations, or at least a continuation of their disagreement of last night. He, however, seemed to have disregarded it, as though that wild shouting match had never taken place.

Before she could think of a rejoinder to that remark, he secured her arm in his and led her down the hallway. “I’ll wager you are trying to find breakfast and your brother?” His tone was still pleasant, respectful.

She nodded, not trusting speech at the moment.

“Breakfast is always served in the Garden Room, just here.” They turned into a cheerful, sunny room. The walls were painted to resemble a formal garden, giving the illusion of eating
al fresco
. The dark cherry table and chairs made a bold contrast to the bright room. A handsome sideboard stood along one wall, still loaded with breakfast dishes.

Amazed, she couldn’t help staring at all the food. The board was spread from one end to the other with polished silver serving platters atop warming pans. Even if Jack had been expected, and she was not sure Dalbury had heard their hurried exchange the night before, all this food for four people seem an extravagant way to take the meal.

Dalbury noticed her frown. “I realize now that I was remiss in not sending a servant to escort you down this morning, my lady. I do hope you will forgive me? May I serve you?”

Before she could protest, he assisted her to a seat at the table and, plate in hand, began piling it with cheese, grilled kidneys, poached eggs, sausages with mashed potatoes, rolls and a host of other viands. He set the enormous plate of food in front of her and called for a fresh pot of tea. “Is there anything else that either I or the kitchen staff can get for you this morning?” His tone was painstakingly courteous, as though his one desire was to wait upon her every whim.

But she knew where his true desires lay. She must keep her wits about her. “No, thank you, my lord. I believe this will be quite enough for this morning’s breakfast and tomorrow’s as well.” She shook her head at the abundance of food. “Is the table always so heavily burdened?”

Dalbury laughed easily and sat down opposite her. The laugh was pleasant, not the ugly chortle from his throat he used when acting smug. She hadn’t wanted him to stay though; the less she saw of him the better. But discretion was the better part of valor this morning. She could put up with him in this mood.

“I believe I may be guilty of extravagance this morning,” he said with a sheepish grin. “I wanted your first breakfast in your new home to be pleasant and inviting. But I realized I didn’t know your preferences. So I asked Cook to provide as many dishes as she could think of that you might enjoy. If these are not to your liking, tell me, and I will let Cook know what you prefer each morning.”

She stopped, fork in hand. All this bounty was for her alone? He’d specifically requested it in order for her to be pleased this morning? What was he playing at? Resolutely, she continued and helped herself to the mountain of food, though she cast surreptitious glances at her husband. Despite his attentions, she didn’t trust him for a moment. But she did find herself relaxing as she ate, listening as he made soothing conversation about the weather, the history of the house and Juliet’s return to society. It was the most pleasant meal she had spent with the marquess so far.

Katarina finally remembered the main reason for her hurried descent this morning. “Lord Dalbury, I thank you for your unwavering devotion to my breakfast, but can you also tell me the whereabouts of my brother? I fear he must be quite impatient that I have yet to put in an appearance.”

Still unperturbed, Dalbury smiled at her. “I breakfasted with Lord Manning a short time ago and explained I had given orders that you not be roused after yesterday’s stresses and strains. I was able, I believe, to put your brother’s mind at ease as to your general good health.” Here the marquess’s eyes gleamed with a mischievous look. “Though I am sure he is as eager for your company as I. Have you finished, my lady?”

Perhaps this was some vivid dream brought on by anxiety and exhaustion. He was too affable to be genuine. After all, this man with the silver tongue had manipulated her into marrying him. She was determined not be fooled by a few pretty words again.

Dalbury rose and assisted her from her chair. “I believe you will find Lord Manning in the garden with Juliet. May I escort you? I would not wish for you to become lost and delay your meeting with your brother even further.”

“That would be kind of you, my lord.”

His wide smile and bright eyes caused her stomach to flutter, and even more so when he placed her arm in his and led her from the room. Minutes later they entered the formal gardens she’d looked out on last night, now drenched in the brilliant sunshine of an unexpectedly warm April morning. Her brother was seated next to Juliet, relaxed, in animated conversation. That Jack no longer feared for her safety was reassuring.

She smiled at the thought of Jack’s hurried words to her before the ceremony and his instructions to Margery last night. He might have thrown her to the wolf, but he’d also made an attempt to protect her from its bite. Love for her brother washed over her and tears sprang to her eyes. She tried to dash them away before Dalbury could see, but he turned at the wrong time, stopped and peered into her face.

“What is wrong? Are you not well?” The anxiety in his voice was genuine, the distress in his frowning face even more so. Her throat tightened at this display of concern and she almost sobbed. Brows raised, he wiped away the one tear that had escaped with his thumb.

“Please tell me, Kat...” His breath hissed inward, but he continued. “Lady Dalbury. Please tell me what troubles you.” He shot a glance at Jack, who’d risen at the sight of her. “Please, my lady. If he sees you crying this morning, I fear I will not escape with less than a black eye and I am much too happy today to ruin my suit in such exercise.”

The humor in his words and the droll way his mouth drooped turned her tears to laughter just as Jack and Juliet reached them. Her brother pulled her into his arms.

“Kat! What is this? Laughter? And here I was worried about you all night! I didn’t sleep at all and rode over insanely early, only to have Dalbury tell me you were still abed.”

Dalbury raised an eyebrow. “I am touched at your confidence in me, Manning. But you see she has escaped me unscathed.”

Jack pursed his lips and looked more than a little annoyed. “Perhaps I should be the one to beat you.”

“I thought we agreed last night that I was the only one allowed to do so now,” Dalbury drawled, deadpan.

Jack snorted. “There are some privileges a brother never relinquishes.”

Kat watched the two men trade quips in some amusement. “The day you lay a hand on me, Jack, is the day you become a one-armed man. Just because I am married does not mean I will grow soft toward you.”

Juliet clapped her hands in delight. “Well spoken, Kat! I know I have always given Duncan as good as he ever gave me.” She gazed fondly at her brother. “Though I have taken shameful advantage at times. I remember smacking him heartily once or twice, all the while knowing he wouldn’t retaliate.” She beamed at Kat. “If he is the only one who can beat you, then you are in safe hands, for I have never known him to harm a woman.”

At his sister’s words, her husband turned away, perhaps to hide the flush of red infusing his cheeks. She smiled automatically at Juliet and linked arms with her sister-in-law, drawing her and Jack toward the house. “I am sorry I was not called early enough for us to ride, Jack,” she said. “Lord Dalbury was being rather solicitous of me, and I daresay I am better for having slept longer today. Perhaps tomorrow morning will suit just as well to ride?”

Where had
those
words come from? She had just deflected attention from her husband’s obvious embarrassment and sounded pleased he had been considerate of her welfare. Why hadn’t she instead asked Dalbury if it was true that he had never harmed a woman? Then watched him squirm, as he would either have to lie to her face or disabuse his sister of her confidence in him. That she would leave such a golden opportunity in the dust and all but defend her husband did not bode well for her determination to shun his attentions.

They were nearing the house, discussing the possibility of a ride tomorrow morning, when Dalbury rejoined the group. Unwilling to be forced to invite him along, she hesitated to continue discussing their plans. “Shall we go in, Juliet, and have some tea? I am sure the men won’t mind being abandoned to their own pursuits.” She raised an eyebrow at Dalbury, who turned to Jack.