CHAPTER SEVEN

Kitty tamped down her rising irritation as she stalked across the room, seeking Robert and Charis. How dare Adam, with only a few short weeks’ experience of this world, be so judgemental of this life? Her life?

How she now wished she had not succumbed to that ridiculous impulse to rescue him from Lady Datchworth’s matchmaking mischief. In fact, she had regretted her impulse the second she had taken his arm—the play of muscle and sinew under her fingers had roused long-suppressed feelings within her, feelings that had only intensified as they danced: a peculiar fluttery and yet clenching sensation deep inside her that she hadn’t experienced since…

With a silent oath she diverted her thoughts from following that particular trail. They were physical feelings of no use to a widow such as she and she had no intention of either encouraging them or, heaven forbid, indulging in them.

But surely you want to know what it might be like. You are fooling yourself—

She ruthlessly quashed that taunting inner voice as she finally found Robert. She had learned her lesson and she would guard her heart from any such misery ever again. No matter how her treacherous body might react to the infuriating man.

Her stepson eyed her, then sighed.

‘I recognise that martial light in your eye, Stepmama. Who has upset you?’

‘I am not upset.’

Robert grinned. ‘Let me hazard a guess. Was it the new Lord Kelridge? I saw you dancing.’

‘Do not speak to me of Lord Kelridge! He had the utter gall to peer down his nose at us and our friends and acquaintances.’

‘Did he, by Jove?’ Robert scanned the room. ‘Well, it appears he is also unimpressed by the entertainment and refreshments at Almack’s, for it looks as though he is taking his leave. Clearly a man of impeccable taste. What did he say?’

‘He finds, and I quote, “no merit in lives lived in pursuit of idle pleasures”.’

‘Ah.’

Robert stroked his chin, a mannerism that indicated he was secretly amused.

‘You find that funny?’

‘Well…might I point out to you, dearest Stepmama, that you have more than once uttered the same opinion?’

‘That is entirely different.’

‘How so?’

‘This is our world. Our life. I am allowed to voice such criticism.’

‘It is his world now, too. And he will see the absurdities that, incidentally, both you and I know exist. He is entitled to his opinion, is he not?’

Kitty set her jaw, knowing she was being irrational but loath to back down. ‘He may very well be entitled to his opinion, but I wish he would keep it to himself.’

Robert eyed her. ‘Was that a metaphorical stamp of your foot?’

His lips quirked and Kitty felt her own quiver in response. Then she could no longer hold back her laugh and Robert laughed with her.

‘There. I always was able to talk you down from the high boughs,’ he said. ‘I hope you weren’t rude to poor Kelridge…it is a difficult time for him, you know.’

‘I am never unmannerly, Rob. You know that.’

‘No. But you can freeze a man with one look, as I know to my cost.’

‘I am persuaded His Lordship is too thick-skinned to notice anything as subtle as a cool glance. Besides, he leaves for Kelridge Place tomorrow so we are unlikely to see him again for a long time.’

She shut her mind to a sensation that snaked through her…a sensation that felt very much like regret. She had no wish to explore that feeling further, afraid that if she allowed her thoughts to dwell too much on Adam and the feelings he aroused within her, the defences she had built around her heart would start to erode. And that she could not risk. Look at how he had tried to kiss her at Lady Charnwood’s ball…an old habit, he had called her. Surely that was enough of a warning to avoid him—he had matured into an attractive man and it would be too easy to fall under his spell all over again. She must keep reminding herself of those lies, and of how he had let her down when she needed him. Like her father, he had used her for his own ends, then cast her aside.

‘That is a pity. I had a mind to consult him on a matter concerning Fenton Hall.’

‘The Hall? What matter?’

‘Nothing much.’ His hand rose to pull at his earlobe and Kitty watched him, puzzled. It was another habit of Rob’s—this time when he felt uncomfortable, or guilty, over something. ‘I’ve been pondering whether to have another wing built, to balance the one built after the fire. And, as Kelridge was involved at that time and as he is a trained architect, I thought to seek his advice.’

‘Another wing? But… Rob…the Hall is surely sufficient for our needs? What do we need with more space?’

Robert shook his head. ‘You may be right. It was merely a whim and this is not the place to discuss it.’ He scanned the dancers. ‘Charis is dancing with Sampford, I see. We need to keep an eye on that. I’m surprised the fellow even got a voucher for here.’

‘The Patronesses must be lowering their standards. They allowed Kelridge in, too.’

Robert laughed. ‘Poor Kelridge! He really has upset you, hasn’t he?’

‘Not at all.’ She changed the subject. ‘What is your objection to Sampford?’

‘He is hanging out for a rich wife to reduce his debts.’

‘Many peers are in similar financial straits. He is a little old for her, it is true, but Charis appears to be enjoying his company.’

‘That,’ said Robert grimly, ‘is what I am afraid of. Charis enjoying his company, I mean. He is charm personified. On the surface.’

‘Ah.’

Kitty did not ask Robert to elaborate. She had crossed paths with many such men and, in general, they shared the same selfish outlook on life. Charis deserved much better. Robert collected his sister as soon as the dance ended and the remainder of the evening passed uneventfully.

It was only later that night, as she prepared for bed, that Kitty realised Robert never did tell her why he was contemplating enlarging Fenton Hall and, by the morning, she had forgotten all about it.

* * *

‘Stepmama?’

It was just past noon the following day and Kitty had hoped to make progress on her story, in which Arabella, her spirited and beautiful heroine, had just innocently interrupted the abduction of her six-year-old orphaned nephew, Arthur—the Duke of Northam—by his dastardly uncle, Lord Sidney Barmouth, whose intention was to gain control of young Arthur’s fortune. The hero was about to step on to the page and she had just decided on Jason as the perfect name for him.

Her attention, however, had been wandering all morning—distracted by images of Adam. Last night was the first time they had spoken in the fortnight that had passed since Lady Charnwood’s ball and Kitty’s unwise foray on to the terrace. Until last night, Kitty had deliberately avoided him at society events and he, true to his word, had avoided her. But he had still regularly invaded her thoughts to the point where she suspected her preoccupation with him had strayed dangerously close to obsession.

How could she have guessed that he would turn up at Almack’s of all places? What was Lady Datchworth thinking, dragging him there…unless, of course, she was still intent on throwing him and Charis together?

Kitty refused to examine quite why that idea made her feel so…so…prickly. He was unsuitable and too old. That was enough to warrant her objection. It was nothing whatsoever to do with that insistent voice in her head that mocked her for still being attracted to him, despite everything.

‘Stepmama?’

Kitty started, rattled that she had, yet again, wandered deep into her own thoughts. She laid her quill aside before facing her stepdaughter with a smile, welcoming the interruption to the constant circling of her thoughts.

Besides, she thought with a despondent sigh, my stories cannot hold a candle to those of Miss Austen. My first story was no doubt a fluke and I doubt I shall ever be good enough to be published again.

Somehow, though, the more she told herself that, the more she felt driven to keep striving to improve. Her first published novel had barely caused a ripple of interest, but the drive to write and to have her stories published was a dream she could not quite set aside. She was fortunate that Robert regarded her ‘little hobby’ as harmless. He had been instrumental in achieving publication for her first novel, but only on condition her name was not known, even to the publisher, because female novelists were still regarded as racy and scandalous by many in society and he feared any notoriety might tarnish Charis by association.

‘Yes, Charis?’

‘Might we visit the Change today instead of paying morning calls?’

Kitty opened her mouth but, before she could speak, Charis rushed on, ‘I know you will say we went there last week, but I am exceedingly eager to go and see the animals again.’

‘But…the last time we visited the Menagerie you became distressed at how they are confined.’

‘It is true I should rather see such creatures roam wild and free, but I know I shall never have that chance. We will return home soon and I should like to see them again.’

Kitty shook her head wonderingly. ‘You really wish to spend time today staring at wild beasts at the Exeter Exchange rather than call upon your friends as we planned this afternoon?’

It was not that Kitty disliked the animals—she found them fascinating—but…surely a responsible stepmother should be able to channel her charge’s interests in a more suitable direction?

Charis pouted. ‘I shall see my friends tonight. Besides, Annabel can talk of little else other than her wedding and how utterly wonderful Talaton is. All one can do is nod and agree, and murmur “How fascinating” at suitable intervals.’

‘It was only a few weeks ago you were in alt over their betrothal.’

That was when it was news. We have surely said all there is to say on the subject by now and yet still Annabel and Mrs Blanchard prattle on and on, repeating themselves ad infinitum until I could happily close my eyes and go to sleep, I am so bored.’

Kitty eyed Charis, sensing there might be more to this than she was admitting.

‘Charis…do you feel a little envious of Annabel?’

‘No, I do not. She is welcome to Talaton. But I find it increasingly hard to keep smiling when I find myself the subject of pitying looks from both Annabel and her mama because she has found a husband and I have not. And there is nothing I can do about it—I cannot protest because they never say it, so they rob me of the chance to say I do not care. But it is exceedingly frustrating because I know precisely what they are thinking.’

Kitty took Charis’s hand. ‘Well, in my opinion, it is you who are the fortunate one. In her debut Season a young girl’s head and heart should be filled with fun and frivolity, fashion and furbelows, dancing and dashing young men. There is plenty of time to find a husband.’

‘But you married Papa when you were my age, Stepmama. And you never even had a Season.’

Adam once again hovered at the edges of Kitty’s mind and she banished him with a silent growl of irritation.

‘That is true. But my circumstances were very different from yours. And I never once regretted our marriage. How could I, when without it I would not have you and your brothers and sister?’

And even though I did not have the baby I so craved.

The sudden thickening of her throat and the sting in her eyes surprised her, for she had long ago accepted her childless state. Why did that thought upset her now? Then Adam’s face materialised in her mind’s eye and she scrambled to make sense of the connection until Lady Datchworth’s words from last night, barely noticed at the time, echoed through her head: I was intent upon helping poor Kelridge here with his marriage plans.

But…that was just Lady Datchworth on one of her matchmaking quests. Was it not? Why should that trigger…? Oh! Her Ladyship’s voice continued in Kitty’s memory. ‘You have a title and a fortune, and you need an heir. Of course you must wed—it is your obligation as a peer of the realm.’

And the thought of Adam marrying…of him siring an heir…caused that tell-tale prickling behind her eyes once again and fear wrapped around Kitty’s heart. Adam had reappeared in her life just over a fortnight ago and already, it seemed, he had begun to break through the barriers she had built around herself.

‘And without it, we would not have you!’ Charis hugged Kitty and kissed her cheek. ‘Now please say we may go to the Change.’

Kitty forced her thoughts away from Adam. ‘Very well. But you knew I would give way right from the start, didn’t you?’

Charis kissed Kitty again. ‘You usually do. Thank you.’

* * *

Two hours later, Kitty gloomily contemplated the elephant on the upper floor of the Exeter Exchange, marvelling at the sheer size of the beast, at his eyes—disproportionately tiny—and his huge ears as they flapped back and forth. His name, so a passing keeper had informed her on their first visit, was Chunee and he fanned his ears in order to cool himself down as his native land was India where the temperatures were very hot. As she turned from her study of Chunee—secretly agreeing with Charis that it seemed wrong to keep such an animal confined on its own in a small enclosure—she collided with a solid wall of male muscle.

‘Oh! I beg your pardon.’

‘Dinna fash yersel’, lass. There’s nae harm done.’

Kitty’s head snapped up. Adam grinned down at her as he tipped his beaver hat and her heart leapt with what she feared was joy. She did not wish to feel like that at the mere sight of him. She gritted her teeth, battling both that visceral response and the near-overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him—his hand…his sleeve…it mattered not which part of him, it was simply a primal need to make physical contact. She curled her hands into fists at her sides, reminding herself that men could not be trusted and that Adam would only let her down, as he had before. As her father had.

‘What are you doing here?’ The war in her breast made her snappish.

His brows rose. ‘I have come to view the animals. As have you, nae doubt.’ His nose wrinkled. ‘I confess I hadna anticipated the smell…it is a wee bit on the strong side, is it not?’

He held her gaze for a few minutes as Kitty scrambled for something to say, for normal conversation between two acquaintances. He managed it effortlessly. Why was it so difficult for her?

Adam turned to look at Chunee. ‘And this is the elephant?’ He shook his head wonderingly. ‘I have seen drawings of such beasts—and of some of the others up here—but I had no idea of its sheer size.’

Kitty swallowed and forced a level tone. ‘Indeed. And have you seen the lion and the tiger?’

‘No. And I have nae desire to see them… Kitty…’

He paused and she waited for him to continue as he seemed to wrestle with himself.

‘Why did you wed Fenton not two weeks after declaring undying love for me?’

She sucked in a breath at his unexpected question. She raised her chin.

‘That, my lord, is none of your business.’

‘Aye, it is. Ye owe it to me to tell me why.’ His blue gaze burned into her, sending sizzles of awareness chasing across her skin.

‘I owe you nothing.’ She spoke through gritted teeth. ‘When I would have told you the truth about my life, all those years ago, you refused to listen.’

The unfairness of that still festered deep inside and, although back then she had steeled herself to tell Adam about her father’s cruel plan to sell her hand in marriage to settle his gambling debts, she was not prepared to expose her pain and shame to this near stranger. ‘You did not want to know then and I do not believe dragging up old, forgotten feelings will serve any useful purpose.’

He searched her face and she fought to keep her anger in place as the intensity of his scrutiny aroused a swirl of conflicting emotions within her. She must protect herself, at all costs. Her heart was fickle…what if she fell for him again, despite the past? And if she did, there would only be more pain because even if, this time, Adam truly fell in love with her, it could never lead to marriage. Lady Datchworth was right… Adam would need an heir and Kitty could not give him one.

But his silence gave her time to regret her harsh words. ‘Besides…’ she indicated their surroundings ‘…this is hardly the place to discuss such a subject.’

He raised a brow. ‘Indeed not. With ears that size, the elephant would nae doubt hear every word and trumpet our secrets far and wide.’ He grinned, but then his brows twitched into a frown. ‘When may we discuss it, Kitty? I think we must. Don’t you?’

She could think of nothing more dangerous to her peace of mind. ‘I can see no benefit in dredging up the past merely on some whim of yours.’

He sighed. ‘Aye…well… I canna say I’m keen on being labelled as a man with a tendency to whims, Kitty, but if it pleases you to think of me in such a way—’

‘I would not waste my time labelling you as anything. You flatter yourself, sir.’

She hated hearing the words snapping from her mouth, but she could not help it, she was in such turmoil. Adam, however, merely chuckled, making her feel even more ashamed of her volatile moods.

‘I was, believe it not, jesting with you. Have you lost your sense of humour as well as your charge, ma’am?’

‘My charge?’

‘Your stepdaughter.’

Charis! Kitty spun around, searching the room where the animals were housed. There were several people on the upper floor, but Charis was not among them. Kitty turned back to Adam.

‘Have you seen her? Oh! Of course! You must have done, to know she is missing.’

In her agitation, she clutched his forearm, registering the sudden tension in his muscles at the same time as…something…some emotion…flared and died in those intensely blue eyes, triggering a response deep inside her: a tugging, yearning sensation.

‘As I said before, dinna fash yersel’. She is downstairs with Lady D., who declined to come up here as she does not care for the menagerie. She says the monkeys give her nightmares. It was she who sent me to find you.’

‘I must go to Charis. I do not understand why she went downstairs without telling me… I thought she was looking at the Arabian camel.’

Adam pursed his lips, his gaze wandering around the room before coming back to rest on Kitty’s face. ‘I passed her on the stairs. She appeared to be in company with a gentleman. Although…it could be I’m mistaken, but I did think you might wish to know that is a possibility.’

‘Do you know who it was?’

‘Sampford.’

Sampford? But—’ Kitty reeled with shock. That Charis should have met with Sampford here today after dancing with him last night could not be a coincidence.

‘I did see them together at Almack’s last evening,’ Adam said. ‘It made me question if there may be an attachment of some sort.’

Kitty could read nothing from his expression.

‘You suspect they had an assignation?’

Adam shrugged. ‘I thought it possible.’

‘But she is only seventeen—far too young to form an attachment.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘We both know how headstrong such young girls can be when they fancy they are in love.’