The Elusive Heiress (25 page)

He ought to have a final answer to the mystery of Kitty’s identity before the deadline John Nixon had stipulated in his will ran out on the fifteenth of July, the anniversary of his death.

Should he tell Katharine what he’d done?

Staring down into her enchanting countenance, Randal smothered a curse. Damn it, he had to resist his crazy urge to protect her!

It was madness to think of revealing his information. Duty demanded that he keep all knowledge of the Hogans secret. Otherwise, if she knew what he was planning she might flee Chester and he would lose his best chance of ever finding the real Kitty.

In his heart Randal desperately hoped that his suspicions were wrong and the Hogans would confirm that Katharine was the girl they had escorted to Ireland. Instinct, however, stubbornly insisted that they would denounce her as a liar.

For the thousandth time, he wished that she would tell him the truth.

He wanted to hear it from her own lips before it was too late. Once her deception was uncovered, all hell would break loose! And yet, providing the real Kitty was safe, he wasn’t even sure he cared any more that she might turn out to be an adventuress. She fascinated him and no matter what the answer to the mystery might be, he didn’t intend to lose her.

Surely she must know by now that he wanted to help her?

There was only one reason Randal could think of why she would not tell him the truth…and it hurt.

But how could he persuade her to trust him?

‘My dear Randal! I didn’t realise you had arrived!’

Alicia, splendid in royal blue taffeta and a tiara of sapphires and pearls, came hurrying into the drawing room and Randal was forced to abandon his speculations.

They were sixteen for dinner and to Lord Redesmere’s disappointment when they took their places at the long polished mahogany board he was seated too far distant from Katharine to permit easy conversation.

‘Your little heiress is looking well tonight,’ Godwin Crawford nudged his nephew in the ribs as they rose from their port to rejoin the ladies in the drawing room for a brief interval before the new influx of guests began to arrive. ‘Damme, I wish I were twenty years younger!’

Randal shot him a quizzical look. ‘Thought you weren’t much in the petticoat line, O revered uncle.’

‘I ain’t,’ his relative returned affably. ‘Which ain’t to say
she
couldn’t tempt me.’

Since he was of the opinion that the lady in question could tempt a saint, Lord Redesmere sensibly raised no objection whatsoever to this remark.

Kate, engaged in conversation with Mrs Egerton, looked up when the gentlemen entered the room and her gaze was drawn like a magnet to Lord Redesmere’s tall figure.

He looked so handsome and distinguished in his elegant evening clothes! None of the other men could hold a candle to him! She wanted to leap up, rush to his side and fling her arms around his neck and kiss him until she was breathless!

Naturally, she did nothing of the sort and, after a few more minutes, Alicia signalled to her with a wave of her pearl-encrusted fan.

Gracefully excusing herself, Kate joined her benefactress and they took up their position to receive the rest of the guests. By eleven o’clock the steady stream had dwindled to a trickle and all the reception rooms were crowded.

‘I’ll wait a little while longer in case anyone else decides to come,’ Alicia announced. ‘You run along and enjoy yourself.’

Her face aching from so much smiling, Kate gave a little stretch of her stiff back, adjusted the gold net scarf she wore over her arms into more becoming folds and obeyed this command.

The drawing room was crammed full of people and Kate paused on the threshold. She saw Tom Egerton wave and start towards her, but, luckily, Caroline Legh reached him first.

Kate let out a sigh of relief. In a weak-willed moment yesterday she had given in to his importunings and promised Tom the first quadrille, but she knew it was a mistake to encourage him.

A loud hum of conversation, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter, filled the warm air. Pinning a bright smile to her lips Kate moved forward.

‘Miss Nixon!’

Waylaid before she had advanced a yard, Kate dipped a curtsey. ‘Mr Hewitt. How nice to see you here.’

Her youthful admirer blushed. ‘I have been longing to talk to you!’

‘Have you?’ Kate gave him a playful smile, which made his colour deepen still more. ‘Dare I ask why?’

He murmured something inarticulate and taking pity on his confusion, Kate decided to drop her flirtatious manner and ask after his sister’s health. ‘I understand that the reason she cannot join us tonight is a sprained ankle. Please give her my best wishes for a speedy recovery.’

‘Oh I will!’ he assured her fervently.

‘How did Sophy actually hurt herself?’ Realising that he was too shy to follow her lead, Kate cast about her for some way to keep the conversation from flagging. ‘Lady Edgeworth said something about a riding accident. Is that correct?’

Given this encouragement, he launched into complicated explanation. Kate allowed him to ramble on, nodding and smiling in all the right places, but, of its own volition, her gaze kept straying beyond the heavily-wadded shoulders of his evening coat in search of another face.

When she found him, her face lit up in an involuntary smile, a smile which so dazzled Jack Hewitt his interminable monologue faltered and he blurted out what he had been wanting to say all along. ‘I say, Miss Nixon, you…you look like an angel in that dress!’

Summoned by the invitation in her eyes, Lord Redesmere strolled over to join them.

Mr Hewitt, who stood in awe of his lordship, immediately clammed up, his face turning the colour of a tomato as he belatedly realised what he’d just said.

Kate watched him insert a finger into his neckcloth and ease it away. Even the ridiculously high points of his shirt collar were wilting, though whether that was from the heat or embarrassment she wouldn’t have liked to hazard.

‘I was just remarking to Mr Hewitt how humid it is this evening,’ she said quickly, stepping into the breach. ‘I shouldn’t wonder if we are in for a storm.’

‘Quite possibly.’ Impatience glinted in Lord Redesmere’s eyes.

‘Very…very hot in here,’ Mr Hewitt ventured, recovering his nerve a trifle.

‘And no doubt you are thirsty, Cousin Katharine?’ Randal enquired.

Kate nodded warily. What was he up to? There was a gleam of mischief in his bright blue gaze.

‘Did you hear that, Jack?’ Randal turned to the younger man with an innocent look that didn’t fool Kate for a minute. ‘Here is your chance to earn my cousin’s undying gratitude.’

Mr Hewitt looked at him blankly.

‘By fetching her a glass of something cold,’ Randal added
sotto voce
.

‘Oh, yes, right!’ Jack nodded furiously. Turning back to Kate he cleared his throat shyly. ‘May I procure a cool drink for you, Miss Nixon?’

‘Please!’ Kate rewarded him with a glowing smile. ‘I should love a glass of chilled champagne.’

He nodded eagerly and excusing himself with a somewhat clumsy bow, rushed off to obey her request.

‘Randal!’ Kate let out a little chuckle at the way Jack had been so easily despatched. ‘That was underhand of you!’

‘Teach him not bore on,’ his lordship retorted brutally.

He held out his arm to her. ‘Come. Let me lead you out of this crush.’

Delighted at the prospect of having him to herself for a while, Kate allowed him to escort her through the throng. With relentless efficiency, he forged a path for them towards the long windows where a number of chairs had been placed for those desirous of a little quiet conversation.

‘That’s better,’ Randle exclaimed as they sat down and a fresh breeze from the open window reached them. ‘You know, the way the wind is getting up we might be in for a thunderstorm after all.’

‘I hope not.’ Kate gave a little shudder.

‘Scared?’ Randal allowed his gaze to roam over her delicious form. ‘I didn’t think you were scared of anything, Katharine.’

Kate blushed at the teasing warmth in his deep voice.

Idiot! Telling herself to stop behaving like a ninny, Kate lifted her chin at him. ‘There are several things I find disturbing,’ she murmured sweetly. ‘Thunder happens to be one of them, although I would not rank it half as irritating as impertinent questions.’

A crack of laughter escaped his lordship. ‘
Touché
!’ He shook his fair head in a gesture of mock despair. ‘Why do I bother attempting to cross swords with you, little cousin!’

‘Perhaps you like to live dangerously, my lord,’ Kate retorted with a sparkling look.

‘Perhaps I do.’

Randal gazed into her dark eyes. God, but he had missed her while he was away! He had found himself longing to hear her contralto voice at the oddest moments. No other woman had the same power to interest, amuse, and rouse him. What’s more, he no longer cared who knew it!

A pair of chattering young ladies came towards them, plainly meaning to sit down and rest their tightly shod feet. Forgetting her good intentions, Kate glared at them in her most ferocious manner and they retreated with startled haste.

‘Oh dear, I shouldn’t have done that!’ she exclaimed ruefully, catching sight of Randal’s amused glance. ‘It was appallingly rude of me!’

‘Don’t worry. I was about to do the same myself,’ he consoled her with a wicked grin.

Kate laughed, a warm throaty sound which caused Lord Redesmere’s loins to tighten in response.

‘I wish we were back at the Hall,’ he said abruptly.

‘So do I,’ Kate answered honestly before she had time to think.

Randal’s brows lifted. ‘We could seek out a quiet spot,’ he suggested delicately.

Temptation shimmered in the air. With a visible effort, Kate conquered her desire to surrender to it.

‘I don’t think that would be wise.’ Her dark ringlets danced reluctant denial.

Silently Randal acknowledged she was right. If they were alone, he wouldn’t be able to resist his need to kiss her.

Pulling himself together, he cast about for a safe topic of conversation. ‘I understand from my sister that you went to Parkgate while I was in London. Did you enjoy the change of scene?’

Kate confirmed it and was in the middle of an amusing description of her sole attempt to try a healthy sea bath when Jack Hewitt returned with her champagne.

‘Thank you!’ She took the glass from him with a grateful smile.

‘Didn’t you bring me one, Jack?’ Randal asked gently.

Mr Hewitt, who was wishing his lordship at the Devil, shook his head. ‘Er…I didn’t realise you were thirsty, sir,’ he muttered in confusion and, embarrassed by his lapse, took a hasty gulp from his own glass.

Lord Redesmere’s pained expression achieved a new intensity.

Bowing to the inevitable, Jack sighed. ‘I’ll go and fetch another glass of champagne, my lord.’ He jerked his head at Kate, his expression glum. ‘Excuse me, Miss Nixon. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

He stalked off, his back bristling with indignation.

Her eyes brimming with amusement, Kate watched the young man retreat. ‘Outmanoeuvred, outgunned and most definitely routed,’ she murmured.

‘He’ll learn to do better when he’s older,’ Randal remarked with a singular lack of feeling.

Kate opened her mouth to make a saucy retort that his lordship obviously had no need to take lessons in guile and then thought better of it. The subject was too uncomfortably close to home!

A sudden flash of lightning lit up the dark sky beyond the window, drawing their attention.

Observing her alarm, Randal asked if she would like the window closed.

Kate nodded gratefully and, scorning to summon a servant, Lord Redesmere rose to his feet and performed the task with his usual brisk efficiency.

No soon had he sat down again than a loud rumble of thunder made Kate flinch. ‘Did Emma tell you that she has invited me on an excursion to Malpas?’ she said quickly to distract her mind from the disagreeable weather. ‘To visit the church of St Oswald?’

Randal nodded. ‘Matthew wants to see the Brereton monument, I believe.’ He smiled at Kate. ‘The carving is very fine.’

‘I’m sure I shall enjoy the outing, but I must own that I am a little puzzled by Mr Lattimer’s interest,’ Kate acknowledged, taking a sip of her champagne. ‘Somehow, he doesn’t strike me as a lover of sculpture.’

Randal laughed. ‘Matthew is more interested in the story of the muzzled bear.’

‘Muzzled bear?’ Kate’s black brows winged upwards in thought. ‘A bear features on your family crest, does it not?’

‘Correct. I salute your excellent memory, O learned cousin.’

‘Stop teasing and tell me why this bear is important,’ Kate said severely, tapping him smartly on the forearm with her folded fan.

Another streak of lightning illuminated the night as Randal obliged. ‘The original Brereton crest was a bear. Then one of my remote ancestors, a stalwart knight so it is said, was guilty of excessive ardour in battle. His bold attempt was witnessed by the King, who was displeased by it. “I shall muzzle that bear,” he declared and his order duly went out to the College of Heralds.’

A little chuckle escaped Kate. ‘A most salutary tale, sir.’

Randal grinned at her. ‘I can’t promise you it’s true, but the chest tomb in St Oswald’s does have a muzzled bear carved to lie at Sir Randal’s head.’

‘And your family is related to the Breretons, hence the bear on your escutcheon.’ Kate’s generous mouth curled up in a quizzical smile. ‘Is your bear muzzled, Randal?’

He shook his head warily.

‘I see,’ Kate murmured. ‘That explains it.’

Knowing it was a trap didn’t prevent Lord Redesmere from demanding to know what the deuce she was on about.

‘Why, your lack of concern for the conventions, my lord.’ Kate widened her eyes innocently at him.

Randal let out a crack of laughter. ‘You abominable little wretch! The next thing you’ll be telling me is that boldness is an inherited trait!’

They were both still laughing a moment later when Lady Edgeworth came sweeping up to them.

‘Kitty, my dear.’ Alicia’s voice was high-pitched with excitement and she spoke loudly to make herself heard over another roll of thunder. ‘I have a surprise for you. Only look who is here!’