The Seventh Suitor (17 page)

Laura, with black hair and green eyes, bearing no resemblance to the honey-blond, blue-eyed Susan, replied demurely, “Yes, sir, and I greatly look forward to it. Just being in London is a treat, after the country, you know.” Laura made her home in London and had not the slightest knowledge of country life other than visits to homes of friends there.

Mr. O’Rourke turned to Kate to inquire after her aunt, and Susan and Laura again switched places. The next time Mr. O’Rourke turned to that side he took one look at Susan, seated with her head modestly bowed, and returned his amused gaze to Kate. “‘Tis a pity you have disclosed my sole accomplishment to these young women, darlin’. I do so enjoy exhibiting it. Which of the dears has the honor of being your sister?”

Kate glanced past him to be sure no further change had occurred and informed him that Susan was now seated beside him. He turned to her with a laugh and said, “You are a naughty puss, and I feel sure we shall deal well together. I suppose this is your first season, too. ‘Tis a pity the season knocks all the liveliness out of such young dears,” he droned sadly, his eyes dancing.

“Oh, Laura, he has caught us already,” Susan declared with affected disappointment, and she beckoned her friend to join them.

“And so often we have been told we are as like as two peas in a pod,” Laura laughed.

“No more than the truth,” Mr. O’Rourke declared stoutly. “When the angels descend they radiate such a glow as one can only perceive their beauty and not the nature of it.”

“We are forewarned of your flattery, sir,” Laura retorted with a saucy wave of her fan and a mock flutter of eyelashes.

“I have you, no doubt, to thank for this deflation of my pretentions,” he grumbled to Kate. “You introduce me to two of the most beautiful women in London only to dash my hopes from the outset.”

“I have yet to see you despondent, Mr. O’Rourke,” Kate replied musingly. “It must be a most enlightening spectacle.”

“Ah, but then you did not see me when last we parted,” he rejoined quickly. “Me heart, once a burning sun, turned cold as the winter’s ice.”

“I am pleased to see that it has recovered its warmth,” Kate informed him.

The intermission was ending, and Mr. O’Rourke rose to take his leave, but not before he said, “'Tis only that you are by again, Miss Montgomery. May I call on you?”

“With pleasure, Mr. O’Rourke.”

When he had vanished after his own particular habit, Susan turned to her sister. “I like him. Is he always so full of flummery?”

“Yes, always. But he is so impudent about it that one cannot take it amiss and, frankly,” Kate admitted, “I find it very uplifting at times.”

Chapter 15

The next day brought a stream of visitors at tea time. Lord Norris made his restrained every-other-day call; Lady Stockton and Laura were there; all of the Montgomerys were home; and Patrick O’Rourke put in an appearance. Everyone was chatting and, thanks to Mr. O’Rourke, there was considerable laughter, when Sampson appeared at his most dignified to announce the Earl of Winterton.

Mrs. Montgomery dropped the biscuit she had just lifted, and Kate turned toward the door with a slight flush. She experienced an inexplicable pride when she saw him, resplendent in a brown broadcloth coat and kerseymere pantaloons, his Hessians and cravat so elegant that she scarcely recognized him. His eyes quickly searched the group and came to rest on her, and though his expression was no less arrogant than usual, there was an intensity in his gaze which caused her to feel decidedly flustered. The room suddenly seemed crowded to her, and yet he was the only person in it of whom she was aware.

As Mrs. Montgomery did not seem capable in her surprise of going forward to greet their guest, Kate assumed the responsibility, hesitantly offering him her cold hand. When he took it, he looked startled to find it so chilled in the warm room.

“Lord Winterton, how nice to see you. I had not thought you would be in town so soon. Are you completely recovered?”

“Yes, Thomas informs me that it was a mild case.”

“I am sure it did not seem so at the time,” she returned sympathetically, though it was necessary for her to bite her lip when she remembered his miserable, spotted face and prickly temper. “Come, let me introduce you to our friends.”

“I cannot stay. I came only to assure myself that you had no trouble finding a printer for the book.”

“Surely everyone here would like to meet you. Is your business so pressing?” she asked gently.

“No, of course not, but I do not wish to break up your party, Miss Montgomery. Your mother looked quite horrified when I was announced.”

“It was merely the surprise. We had not thought to see you in London.”

“Now I understand. If it had occurred to you, you could have instructed your butler to refuse me,” he quizzed her.

“Why, I do believe you have a sense of humor, Lord Winterton.” Kate relaxed somewhat and led him first to her parents and Lady Stockton, with whom he was acquainted through his mother. They progressed to Ralph, Susan, and Lord Norris, who was as incredulous as Mrs. Montgomery at finding his guardian at the Montgomerys’. In fact, it crossed his mind that Winterton had come specifically to seek him out for some reason, and he hurriedly scanned his mind for some misdemeanor.

His alarm was so clearly writ on his countenance that Kate took pity on him. “Lord Winterton has come to inquire after a matter of printing and can stay but a moment. You will excuse us, I hope, if I take him to meet the others.” Charles was delighted to do so, and Susan, who went in awe of Winterton, agreed with alacrity. Ralph, however, followed them to where Laura and O’Rourke were talking.

Winterton towered over O’Rourke, but this did not intimidate the elegant Irishman in the least. Laura studied Winterton’s rugged features and closed expression and compared them, unfavorably, with O’Rourke’s charming, good-natured countenance. She knew that Winterton was a neighbor of the Montgomerys in the country, but it surprised her that he should visit them in town.

Mr. O’Rourke, all unknowing, proceeded to open a very dangerous subject. “I believe I met your brother Carl in London some years ago. A great fellow! How is he?”

Winterton’s expression became rather more grim than it had been, and Laura unconsciously shrank back from the group. “He died three years ago of a wound sustained in the Peninsula.”

Abashed at this revelation and the tension he felt in the group, Mr. O’Rourke exclaimed, “I am so sorry to hear it! My condolences. I didn’t know he had joined up. He made no mention of the possibility.”

“‘He joined the 5th Dragoon Guards in eleven,” Ralph offered helpfully, and attempted to keep his eyes from wandering to Kate, who maintained a stiff silence during the exchange.

Winterton, however, could not refrain from glancing at her, and she, impelled by his unspoken reproof, returned his look steadily and said softly, “We all miss Carl. He was a great friend of Ralph’s, you know.”

“We lost too many good men in the war,” Mr. O’Rourke declared. “And now the rest of the poor devils are home, they are more likely to starve than not.”

“Very true,” Winterton agreed. His grim look relaxed enough to show some interest in what the Irishman was saying. “Can you see any help forthcoming for them from the government?”

“Not a shred,” O’Rourke replied despondently. “The government is likely to ignore them altogether.”

Ralph fidgeted with his newly acquired quizzing glass, of which he was justly proud, and awaited an opportunity to engage Winterton’s attention. It was not in Ralph’s nature to be interested in those abstract masses he did not know; he reserved his ready, and very real, concern for those with whom he was acquainted, however scantily.

“I say, sir,” he finally interrupted. “Have you been to Tattersall’s since you came to town?” When the Earl patiently admitted that he had not, Ralph continued enthusiastically, “If you should go there, I hope you will have a look at Lord Cartwright’s chestnut. I’ve a mind to buy him for the farm, and I’d welcome your opinion.”

“I daresay I shall look in there in the next few days. I can tell you what I think when next we meet, or send a line round.” Winterton turned to indicate to Kate his intention of leaving and found her in animated, joking conversation with O’Rourke. They appeared to be on the friendliest of terms and spoke as old acquaintances. Although Winterton was grievously irritated by O’Rourke’s casual familiarity with the young lady, he determinedly remained polite when the Irishman, ever sensitive to a departure, appeared instantaneously beside him to shake his hand and say, “So glad to meet you, Lord Winterton. I hope I shall have the pleasure again soon.”

Winterton replied in kind, if with markedly less enthusiasm than his new acquaintance. As Kate walked with him to the bell pull he searched her face for any sign of annoyance with him for his coolness to O’Rourke or his shortness in discussing Carl’s death. All he could identify was an unshaken warmth in the brown eyes lifted to his, and he spoke rather gruffly. “You have not as yet told me if I can assist with the printing of the book.”

“It is all taken care of; there was no problem at all.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Thomas is preparing for your next project—a chandler’s shop, I believe. Have you a mind to continue?”

“Certainly. No doubt I shall learn all about tallow or wax or forms and such. I’ll make a point of visiting a chandler’s while I’m here,” Kate assured him earnestly, her eyes amused.

“Do you return to the Hall soon?”

“In a few days. Papa has not decided precisely when yet.”

“No doubt you will attend Lady Stockton’s ball for her daughter.”

“Yes, Mama is adamant that I shall. Lady Stockton is a long-time family friend.”

“Then I shall look forward to seeing you Thursday.”

“You
are going to Lady Stockton’s?” Kate could not conceal her surprise.

“It was my intention,” he replied stiffly.

Kate smiled gratefully. “I
am
glad. It will be most
comfortable
to see a familiar face in the squeeze.”

“Until Thursday, then.” Winterton touched her cheek gently and abruptly took his leave without waiting for Sampson to be summoned.

Bemused, Kate watched the door close behind him, leaving the room once again to its normal proportions, no longer crowded, but empty. Ridiculous to put such significance on his call, on the tiny gesture of . . . friendship? No, he would never choose anyone to be his friend whom he considered less than honorable, as he did her. But there was no need for him to have called at all. If he were interested in the printing of the book, surely he could have had Mr. Single send a note round to inquire. It would have been more in keeping with his dignity. But he had come to see her. Why? She was interrupted in her meditations by an apologetic Mr. O’Rourke.

“So sorry to have spoken of Carl, Miss Montgomery. I had not heard of his death, and Ralph says there is some . . . ah . . . awkwardness about it between you and his lordship. Must be that devilish leprechaun acting up again,” he said ruefully.

“There is nothing to be concerned about, Mr. O’Rourke,” Kate assured him. “Lord Winterton does not approve of me, but it has not prevented him from being of service to the whole of my family.”

O’Rourke regarded her thoughtfully. “I think you are mistaken, Miss Montgomery. Lord Winterton did not appear disapproving, or even indifferent to you. He’s not married?”

A flush stained her cheeks, and she made a gesture of denial to his implication. “No. He lives alone at Winter Manor. His mother died about a year after Carl. Lord Norris,” Kate said, indicating that young man across the room, “is Lord Winterton’s ward.”

“Methinks Lord Norris has an interest in your sister,” O’Rourke replied laughingly.

“I think you are right. Come, let’s save Laura from Ralph’s talk of horses.”

* * * *

Lady Stockton’s ball, early in the season as it was, could be described only as a crush, which of course was the highest praise one could receive. Laura looked radiantly beautiful in a white satin grown embellished with emerald green ribbons to emphasize her eyes. She knew quite a few of the guests and, feeling relatively at ease in London society, assisted Susan to feel comfortable.

Kate attempted to stay in the background; it was Susan’s season, and Kate was determined that her sister should enjoy it to the full. Kate, well past the required pale colors and docile behavior of a first season, was able to dress as she pleased in a burgundy silk which became her.

When Mr. O’Rourke claimed Kate for the cotillion, he found her amongst a crowd of gentlemen each intent on describing for her his particular exploits during the previous hunting season. As he led her off on his arm, he proceeded to enlighten her on his own adventures in the hunting field; these prominently included his leprechaun, Sprig. Kate was laughing merrily when she happened to glance to the side of the room, where Lord Winterton had appeared and was regarding her. She flushed slightly, to her annoyance, and nodded to him before the movement of the dance recalled her attention. When the dance was completed and O’Rourke returned her to her mother and Susan, Winterton was there speaking with them.

“Good evening, Miss Montgomery,” he said politely, as he bowed. “Your sister has honored me by agreeing to stand up for the boulanger with me. Might I hope that you have the succeeding waltz free?”

“I do and it would be a pleasure, Lord Winterton. Have you been to Tattersall’s yet? Ralph is anxious to know what you think of the chestnut.”

“I saw it yesterday, and spoke with your brother a few minutes ago. An excellent animal, and would be a wise addition to his stud.”

“Have you been to the farm, then?” Kate asked curiously.

“Several times. Does that surprise you?”

“Yes,” she replied frankly, then conceded, “I suppose it should not. You have been most kind to my family.”

The music for Winterton’s set with Susan was beginning. After a brief, inscrutable look at Kate, he claimed his partner, and Kate found Lord Norris at her elbow to do likewise.