The Diabolical Baron (13 page)

As Caroline and Linda came into the hall, Jessica
was pleased to hear her own voice saying coolly, “Such
a surprise, Caroline. I had no idea your Lord Radford was an old acquaintance of mine from before my first
Season. When I knew him he was plain Jason Kin
caid.”

Continuing to the bottom of the stairs, she extended
her hand to him. and went on, “Indeed, your lordship,
I must congratulate you on your high estate. Were you
a cousin who came unexpectedly to the title?”

He bowed punctiliously over her hand and stepped
back, answering, “My father was Lord Radford, but I was merely a younger son until my brother met his end. 
I came into the title five years ago.” He
paused, then added coldly, “Of course it is not to be ex
pected you would know how I was placed, since our
acquaintance was of the slightest.”

Jessica flinched at his casual dismissal of what had
been the most intense experience of her life. Her emo
tions tilted wildly from believing he remembered her
to being convinced he had forgotten—no doubt he
hardly recalled her amongst all the famous society
beauties he had known through the years. Consistency
was not prominent in her thinking at the moment.

Since she was about to become his aunt by marriage,
the dead past must stay that way—dead and buried
beyond redemption.

Caroline looked uncertainly back and forth between
the two tall striking figures. She heard the polite
words, but deep in her viscera she could feel murky
undercurrents swirling. Jason looked like Zeus about
to hurl a thunderbolt, and even her aunt’s unshakable
composure seemed forced.

Given his apparent prefer
ence for docile ladies, he must have hated Jessica’s
headstrong independence when he knew her in the
past. Since she was now less wild but even more independent, he wasn’t likely to appreciate her any better.

Given a choice, Caroline would have preferred to slip out of the room and disappear; anywhere would
be preferable to seeing her betrothed looking like he wanted to murder her dearest friend and relative. But
she was responsible for this meeting, so she bravely
moved into the breech. “How interesting. You did not
know my mother was a Westerly, Jason?”

His face was stiff but he answered civilly enough. “I
must apologize for inadequate research into your an
tecedents. Having met you, I felt no need to know
more. Shall we leave, my dear?” He offered Caroline
his arm. She blinked a bit at the endearment and the
speech; it was the most lover-like thing he had ever
said to her.

As she took the proffered arm, she smiled brightly
and said, “Of course. We have quite a journey to make
and I am anxious to be off. Jess, are you and Linda
ready?”

Jessica answered, “Since the luggage is going on the
second carriage, there is no reason to delay. I’m sure
Lord Radford’s driver can be trusted to take care of the
loading. Linda, do you have your shawl? It will be
cooler outside of London.”

Linda nodded. Oblivious of atmosphere, she was in
tent on her own affairs. Considering the states of mind of the three adults, it was hardly surprising no one no
ticed the straw basket under her cashmere shawl.

As they climbed into the carriage, Jason was cursing
himself for having chosen to ride within rather than
alongside. It had seemed a reasonable step in his plan
to further his acquaintance with Caroline, but now the
prospect of traveling in such close quarters with his fu
ture aunt appalled him.

Since his shattered nerves still hadn’t recovered from shock, he was abrupt to a point just short of rudeness to Caroline’s conversational sal
lies. Jessica said nothing at all; only Linda showed any
pleasure, peering out the window excitedly and point
ing out worthy sights and familiar landmarks on the
road.

Less than an hour sufficed to get them out of the
city’s confusion and into the green countryside. Caro
line had succumbed to the atmosphere of vibrating
tension and sat silent, feeling her temples throb. If this
is how the next weeks are going to be, she thought
miserably, I’ll be ready for Bedlam. Why can’t the
wretched man make some effort to be civil?

For lack of
anything better to do, she took refuge in mentally
transforming the situation into a concerto for chamber
orchestra. Her knowledge of orchestration was imper
fect, but she was sure of one thing: the composition
would emphasize drums.

Lost as she was in her work, at first she missed the
small, high-pitched cries. The unexpected noise was almost inaudible over the noises of the creaking car
riage, horses’ hooves, and jingling harness, but her
sensitive musician’s ear caught it.

She looked sharply
at Linda, who sat across from her, next to Jason. The
next time the cry came, she noticed Linda quickly
made some remark about the passing scene.

She had a lively suspicion of what might be the
problem, but hesitated to mention it in the strained at
mosphere. Her indecision was solved by a new cry
that could not be overlooked by anyone present.

Jessica looked sternly at her daughter and said,
“What was that sound?”

“A
...
a hiccup, Mama,” Linda said falteringly.

“I have never yet heard a hiccup that sounded like
that. Have you disobeyed me and brought your kit
ten?”

Linda hung her head. “Yes, Mama.” There was no
point in lying; the evidence would have overwhelmed
her in any case.

Apparently realizing he had attracted the attention
he sought, Wellesley was starting to yowl in earnest.
Jason looked on with a nasty glint in his eyes that
clearly showed what he thought of women who
couldn’t control their children.

“All right, miss. Where have you hidden him?” Jessica said with resignation.

Linda reached down and pulled a covered straw
basket out from under her trailing shawl. Lifting the
basket’s lid, she said, “Here he is, Mama.”

Lifting the lid proved a serious mistake. Frantic at his confinement, the kitten gave a bloodcurdling cry
and exploded out of the basket.

He cleared his jail in one bound, ricocheted off the blue velvet squabs, and
swarmed to the top of the highest available object,
shrieking as if a pack of pit dogs were after him.

Unfortunately, the object he chose to treat as a tree was Lord Radford. The three females stared in horror
as the orange ball of fluff came to rest on his lordship’s
impeccably tailored shoulder, mewing piteously and
leaving a faint trail of colorful fur in its wake.

Jason’s
face was a study in conflicting emotions, none of them
pleasant. The appalling moment stretched inter
minably, punctuated only by continuing cat cries.

Just when it seemed the tension would explode of its
own accord, the silence was broken by a burst of
laughter from Jessica. Shaking with mirth, she gasped,
“Oh, Jason, if you could
only see!”

Freed of her paralysis, Caroline found herself join
ing her aunt’s unseemly laughter. “Indeed, my lord, it
is so very droll. That such an insignificant beast should
perform such an act of
lèse-majesté
!”

Torn between outrage and the gales of merriment
surrounding him, Jason’s sense of humor won
out. Chuckling in spite of himself, he reached up and
detached the clinging needle-fine claws. Scratching be
hind the cat’s ears, he held it up to eye level and said,
“And who might this insignificant creature be? It is
more than a kitten but much less than a cat.”

“Wellesley, my lord,” Linda said while she tried to subdue her giggles.

“After the Iron Duke, you know,” Caroline added
helpfully. Unfortunately, this useful information sent
her and her aunt off again/

Some time passed be
fore they were sober. Jason continued stroking the cat;
he was no feline expert, but the principle appeared to
be the same as for dogs. Wellesley recognized safety in
a fellow male and settled down comfortably on the
lordly lap.

When she was capable of rationality again, Jessica
said, “I am very sorry, Lord Radford. It has always
been a mistake to give my daughter orders that don’t
make sense to her.”

“Doubtless you were exactly the same at her age.” Jason’s tone was dry but no longer hostile. All of the
strain in the carriage had vanished during the feline
frenzy.

“Unfortunately yes,” she sighed. “Linda, I should have explained that it was not caprice that made me
forbid you to bring Wellesley. Cats make your grandmother ill; she sneezes and has trouble breathing. We really can’t bring a cat into the house, and I’m afraid a kitten like Wellesley will not do well among the barn
cats.”

Before Linda could volunteer to sleep in the barn
with her pet, Jason said to her, “We can take the cat on
to Wildehaven. Unfortunately you will still be de
prived of his company, but I trust we can keep him
safe.”

“I suppose that would be best,” Linda said sadly.
“I’m sure you will take better care of him than he
would have had in London.”

“Indeed, it is most generous of Lord Radford,” Jes
sica said.

“Since we still have a lengthy journey ahead of us,
may I ask about the, er, practical arrangements for his care?” Jason inquired, still speaking to Linda.

Linda turned over what he said and then blushed
when she realized what was meant. “Indeed, sir, I
brought some food for him but I didn’t think of the
other thing.”

“Never mind,” Jason said soothingly. “We can get a
box with some earth in it when we stop for refreshment.”

The remainder of the journey was considerably
more pleasant than the first part; it was hard to tell
whether Linda or Wellesley was having the better
time.

Having had scant experience with either cats or
small girls, Jason watched them both with amusement.
Wellesley proved to be a good traveler when he was allowed the freedom of the coach, distributing his favors impartially as he moved from lap to lap.

They made good time and arrived at the Sterling
family home in Wiltshire at sunset. The small manor
had been the secure center for generations of military
men and their families, and the party was welcomed
warmly.

Caught up by a gaggle of cousins, Linda raced
off to the stables to see how her pony had survived her absence. The adults were glad enough to retire to their rooms with their various uncomfortable thoughts until
the pleasantly informal dinner was served.

Always happy to see their daughter-in-law, Colonel
Sterling and his wife urged them to spend more than
one night, but no one wished to linger—Jason because
he felt obscurely that he would be able to control his
feelings more easily when he was on his home ground, Jessica and Caroline because they might as well get on
with the business ahead.

The next day’s journey was shorter than the first,
and soon they were among the steep-sided Cotswold
hills. The road twisted and turned to create ever-
changing views of breathtaking beauty. Although she
had grown up not far to the south, Caroline had never
been into Gloucestershire and she was disarmed by its
loveliness. It would be a major compensation for a
loveless match.

Not long after their midday break, Jason signaled
the coachman to stop at the crest of a hill and invited
the ladies out to admire the view. The hills and woodlands seemed to have been designed by a painter; here
and there a square stone church tower marked a dis
tant village, and a small river curved away from them to the west.

Following the river’s turns, Caroline drew
in a breath at the sight of the house in the middle dis
tance. Designed and proportioned in the Palladian
mode, its cool classicism blended perfectly into its set
ting. “What is that great house, Lor ... Jason?” she
asked.