Unveiled (35 page)

“Are you my father?”

He should have known this was coming, but it still caught him by surprise. Hugging himself against the wind, he turned to the small boy, who stared back at him. He looked so little, the kitten held against his small body as if for protection. He remembered Katie’s words.
He alone is innocent of all this—

“Why don’t you come to my room for breakfast? We can eat together.”

Sean’s face lit up with a grin. “Do you mean it?” he asked, with the exuberance of youth.

Christopher nodded. “I always get too much food as it is. And we’ve got cakes this morning, for the party tonight.”

Sean raced ahead of him toward the huge house. Christopher entered the backdoor and, ignoring the shocked glances of the new servants, ordered breakfast.

“And please have someone bring it to my room,” he said. “I have a guest.”

The servants nodded, keeping their opinion to themselves as the man of the manor retreated to his room, still clad only in a robe, and shoeless.

Sean was there before he entered. The little boy walked slowly around the bedroom, still holding the kitten, exploring everything with his eyes. Much of the original furnishings had been sold, but there was still the ebony bureau, the huge mirror, the tray holding tobacco and brandy, the jars of scented limewater, and the shaving mug. It was a masculine room and, to the little boy, obviously fascinating.

“Don’t touch that,” Christopher warned as Sean picked up a straight blade. He immediately put it back as Christopher laughed. “You could get cut. The blade is sharp.”

“Paddy has one.” Sean nodded. “He does this with his face.” The boy imitated shaving, then slapped his cheeks.

Christopher nodded. “Pretty soon you’ll be old enough to use one of those.” He let the boy examine his things, answering his questions, until the servant brought the tray. Instantly, upon the arrival of food, all else was forgotten and Sean put down the cat and climbed onto the horsehair seat, gazing expectantly at the covered dishes.

“There. Eggs, bacon, toast, cakes, fruit…” Christopher opened each dish, grinning as Sean licked his lips and piled the food onto a plate. He waited until the boy had enough before taking his own.

They ate in companionable silence. Christopher grinned as Sean helped himself freely to more of everything, then washed it all down with a huge glass of milk. It was amazing that so much food could fit into such a small body, but it did. Yet his manners were perfect. Christopher was forced to reevaluate his thoughts regarding this boy, an Irish illegitimate child. When the boy finally seemed full, Christopher spoke slowly.

“Sean, why would you think I’m your father?”

“You’re married to my mama,” Sean said matter-of-factly. “I heard them talking when we got here. I thought that meant you’re my da.”

Christopher felt a tightening in his chest and he took the small boy’s hand and spoke seriously. “No, I’m not your father. Whoever he is, he is a very lucky man, because I think you’re a great boy.”

“Do you know who he is?” Sean asked thoughtfully.

“No.” Christopher shook his head. “You’d have to ask your mother about that.”

“She doesn’t like to talk about it,” Sean stated flatly. “She talks about other things when I ask her.” He stared at Christopher, then shrugged. “Will you be leaving us soon, too?”

Christopher’s mouth dropped, but to himself he had to admit it was a logical question. Sean obviously felt that since his father had walked out, he was liable to do the same. What made the situation worse was his relationship with Kate at the moment. He honestly didn’t know what would happen, and didn’t want to lie to the boy. Taking a deep breath, he tried to explain.

“Sean, your mother and I…have some problems. We’re trying to work them out, but we don’t know if we can. There is nothing for you to worry about, though. Whatever happens, we’ll both see that you’re always taken care of.”

Sean looked at him with eyes that were far too intelligent and street smart for a boy his age. Nodding, he picked up the cat and slipped from the chair.

“I’m going downstairs now. Moira’s baking some pies for the party. She said I could help.”

Christopher watched the boy go. Sean had understood exactly what he’d meant. And what he hadn’t said.

She just had to get through this night.

Katie stood before the mirror, surveying the midnight-blue gown she wore and the glittering sapphire that hung from her throat. The jewel was borrowed from Ella Pemberton, and it seemed to bring Katie courage as she turned, seeing the brilliant fire from the gem.

She had to admit, she didn’t look anything like the poor Irish woman she was, or even the lady’s companion or maid that she’d been the last few months. Something had changed. By assuming Fan Pemberton’s identity, she had grown into the part.

Inside, however, she was still Kate O’Connor, and she was terrified. Once more she had to reach down to that secret place where she kept her strength and draw from it again. God, it was getting harder and harder. Katie was afraid that one of these times the well would be dry.

She was also still furious with Christopher. She hadn’t seen him since their conversation last night, but she hadn’t forgotten their bitter words. If this was what he wanted, she would give it to him. It was almost like the reminder Paddy used to whisper: Be careful what you pray for, Katie, you may get it.

“You look grand, dear,” Moira whispered approvingly, pausing to smooth one curl into place and to brush imaginary lint from her shoulder. “Like a duchess. That man of yours won’t be able to take his eyes from you.”

Katie turned and hugged the older woman. She had been forced to explain everything to Moira, even though she hadn’t wanted to. But with the party imminent, she didn’t have much of a choice. To her surprise Moira had been wonderfully sympathetic and supportive. “Oh, Moira, thank you. Thank you for everything. You’ve always been there for me, better than any mother.”

“Nonsense,” Moira said, but Katie could tell she was pleased. “As for that husband of yours, well, this is a damned sorry state of affairs if you ask me. What kind of man looks to introduce his wife to other men and expects her to provide him with amusement? Although, I was in a play once…” Moira frowned musingly.

“What happened?” Katie almost shook the answer from her.

“There was a man and a woman in it. Lovers, I believe. Anyway,” Moira said quickly, blushing at her own description, “they came to a parting of the ways. Both of them agreed to see other people, but when each of them saw the other with a new mate…”

“Yes?”

“They killed each other.” Moira sighed heavily. “It was out of jealousy, you know.”

Katie’s arms dropped and she stared heavenward. The last thing she needed was that kind of a prophesy. “I think I’ll go downstairs. Have most of the guests arrived?”

“Yes.” Moira nodded, her brow furrowed. “Run along, dear.” When Katie left the room, Moira muttered to herself, “Was it a murder? Or was that the one where they confess their love and live happily ever after?”

For the life of her, she couldn’t remember.

Downstairs, the Scott house was ablaze with light and merriment. As Katie descended the steps, her heart in her throat, she paused in amazement at the transformation of the house. The new furnishings looked splendid in the parlor, setting off Moira’s drapes admirably and looking elegant in the crisp gaslight. The chandeliers glittered, the fireplace crackled. Servants dressed in good wool suits circled the room, pausing with fluted glasses of sparkling wine, while maids brought tempting trays of mushrooms and oysters to the guests.

And the company! Even from the steps Katie could see that everyone had come. Bertrice and Charles waved from across the room, the Misses Chandler sat like crows on the new horsehair couch, the Mitchell girls giggled with several handsome young men, while Aunt Eunice and Florence Eldridge talked quietly. The Pembertons took up one wall, looking anything but happy to be present, while the Scotts dutifully ignored them. Isabelle and Gertrude stood near the serving table, and Katie saw the young woman’s aunt cringe every time her niece snatched a morsel from the maid.

One of the young ladies softly played the pianoforte, and Katie saw Patrick, dressed elegantly in a suit, greeting some of the guests. He smiled at Katie reassuringly and gave her a gesture that meant an Irish blessing.

It was all absolutely perfect. Everything looked wonderful, the guests were elegant and having a good time, the food looked marvelous. The only blight on it all was the real reason for the party. As if in answer to her thoughts, she froze, seeing Christopher for the first time.

He looked so handsome she thought she would melt. Dressed in a dark blue suit that coincidentally complemented her gown, he stood beside the fireplace, talking with an older, fidgety man that Katie didn’t know. As if feeling her gaze on him, Christopher glanced up and their eyes met. She could have sworn she saw an uneasiness in them, much the way she was feeling. His gaze swept over the gown she wore, and she could see the tension increase in his face. Her heart pounding, Katie managed to keep smiling and sweep into the room, aware only of him.

“Kate! You look lovely. That gown is beautiful with your eyes,” Emily said sincerely, and Katie took the young woman’s hands in gratitude.

“Thank you, but your gown is far lovelier. You look enchanting, as always.”

Emily grinned, pleased. It was getting easier and easier to fit into this group, Katie realized, but after tonight, she might no longer need her skills. Should Christopher decide to court someone else, she and her family might find themselves in the street.

“Wine?” A servant paused at her arm and Katie nodded, accepting a glass as she greeted the guests. She felt Christopher’s eyes on her as she made everyone comfortable, introducing Gertrude and Isabelle and pausing to laugh at the outrageous compliments she received. She wouldn’t show him how much his presence upset her; no, not after last night. Even if it killed her, she would play this role out.

“May I have everyone’s attention?”

Katie turned in surprise as Ella entered the room, holding Sean’s hand. The little boy looked wonderful in a dark suit his golden hair shining. He glanced inquisitively at the guests.

“I would like to formally introduce my grandnephew. Sean, this is Nellie Mitchell, Mary, and the Misses Chandler. Say how do you do.”

The conversation ceased as the guests murmured to themselves with shocked expressions. Stunned, Katie watched as Sean, obviously tutored by Ella, extended a hand, then shook Nellie Mitchell’s.

“How do you do, miss?” Sean asked politely.

Nellie stammered, glancing helplessly at her mother. Confronted with what might well be the illegitimate child of Fan Pemberton, she didn’t know how to comport herself or whether to acknowledge the boy at all. The room seemed to wait in a collective silence while Mrs. Mitchell looked shocked and began to fan herself indignantly.

Katie’s cheeks flushed crimson. My God, what was Ella thinking? How could she have chosen tonight, of all nights, to introduce Sean to society? Yet she trusted Ella, and knew the older woman would never hurt her. What then was she doing?

Before Mrs. Mitchell could comment, Eunice stepped forward and draped an arm around Nellie, speaking to the boy with a laugh. “She thinks you’re so handsome, Sean, she doesn’t know what to say.”

The girls giggled nervously, then Ella turned graciously to the Misses Chandler, whose mouths looked like perfect O’s.

“Did I forget to mention Fan’s son? The boy has been ill for quite some time. After his father died in that mine explosion, he did quite badly. I always thought the two events were connected. Even the physicians seemed to think so. But thank God, he has recovered, and has come home to stay.”

Katie drank down her wine in a gulp as the ladies pressed forward. She saw more than one uncertain expression, and she didn’t dare to look at Christopher. She held her breath as Alice Chandler smiled, pushed Nellie aside, then took Sean’s hand.

“You are a handsome young man, and I am very pleased to meet you. Ella has told me so much about you. When we go to the seaside next year, do stop by for a visit. I make a wonderful lemon ice that a little boy like you will love.”

The wind expelled from Katie’s body and she stared in wonder as the women all spoke to Sean, apparently accepting him. One by one they obtained an introduction and promised the small boy everything from candy to a ride on a new carriage. Even Mrs. Mitchell, aware that everyone else seemed to know about Sean, was forced to smile politely and take his hand. Speechless, Katie felt a reassuring pressure on her elbow and she turned to see Aunt Eunice smiling gently.

“Ella’s been speaking to most of the women about your son. It took a little doing, but she’s managed to circulate the story about his father dying. Most people willingly believed that, since they all thought Fan left for a man anyway. Sean’s appearance only solidifies what they already thought.” Her smile broadening, Eunice sighed. “People. Give them something to talk about, Kate, and they’ll always forgive you.”

Katie stared at her in amazement, then her eyes went back to Ella. It wasn’t so much the gossip, Katie realized, or the story. It was Ella’s nature that made people listen to her, in spite of her reputation. Even the other Pembertons looked duly quelled as they spoke to Sean and outwardly accepted him.