After three days of fittings, Kristen grew tired of standing on the small stool while three woman pinned and poked her. Every time she moved, a pin stuck her somewhere, and she felt that she'd been patient long enough.
Kristen looked down at the yards and yards of beautiful white, pearl-drenched satin and French lace that draped across a solid white skirt, then swept up in the back and blended with a long train down the back. She ran her hand across the smooth material.
The satin felt cool.
She felt numb.
The women chattered around her, talking about how fine the material felt and how expensive the tiny pearls cost, but they were not speaking directly to Kristen. It was as if she didn't exist except as someone to hold the garment off the floor. That was one of the problems. Since she'd come to Chatsworth, she felt absolutely useless. Before, she'd had to provide food for Hagan, and take care of him, and had always been on the move. Now all that was done by someone else.
She had no purpose for her days. And Trevor most certainly didn't need her. He seemed to always be busy, and the dowager duchess wanted no part of her, which left Kristen alone most of the time.
"If you'll hold your arm out," one of the girls said, bringing Kristen back to the moment. She looked down at them, but they were too busy pulling more pins out of boxes to talk to her.
Mainly they issued instructions, as in turn this way and that, but after days of standing perfectly straight Kristen's patience had worn thin. She didn't want to hold her arms out any more. She wanted to sit down and rest.
"Stand up straight!" A sharp voice snapped out from somewhere behind Kristen. "A Claremont always stands tall."
Kristen turned, causing the three seamstresses to grumble. She looked at Trevor's grandmother, who stood in the doorway with her arms folded, eyeing her down her aristocratic nose. Kristen bet ice water ran in the old bat's veins.
"Then I have a week tae rest 'til then," she said flippantly.
"I suggest you start now," Constance bit out again. A shadow of annoyance crossed her face. "You have much to learn about your new station in life, young lady, and in a very short time. So I suggest you try harder."
A lesson in manners wouldn't hurt you, either, Kristen thought, but politely didn't voice her thoughts this time. She did stand a little straighter just to prove to the old bat that she could. "Are ye about through?" she asked the women scurrying around her. "I need tae sit for a while before I fall down."
The youngest seamstress looked at Kristen. "I think we have it." She stood and for the first time smiled. "You will make a lovely bride, mum."
"Thank you," Kristen said as she stepped out of her satin gown. Immediately, she started scratching all the places where the pins had pricked her tender skin. What a relief, she sighed. Kristen pulled on her yellow jaconet muslin dress. The skirt was neatly trimmed with fine double tucks. One of the seamstresses helped fasten the corded band around Kristen's waist. She turned to leave, but found that Constance still lingered in the doorway.
Constance addressed the seamstresses in her most haughty voice. "Please put your best effort into this gown. My grandson deserves only the best."
The oldest seamstress, who had an armful of wedding dress gave her an indulgent smile. "This will be the loveliest gown I have ever created, Your Grace." The woman handed the gown to her assistants, then gathered her scissors and pins while the other two packed up the garment. "I will have it ready three days hence."
"Good. I will look for it then." Constance dismissed the seamstresses by turning to Kristen. "I would like to speak with you--"
"Kristen . . ." Kristen supplied the missing name, knowing she needed to get along with this woman. If the saints were willing, she'd try. "Are ye able tae walk in the garden?"
"I haven't been in the garden in ages," the dowager duchess said as a look of longing crossed her face. "Yes, I would like to go outside today."
For a brief moment, Kristen saw a human element in the woman. "If ye'll lead the way, I believe sunshine awaits us." Kristen swept her hand toward the door, then followed Constance, keeping with the woman's slow pace. "Why haven't ye been out tae yer lovely gardens? I saw them from the window earlier and they are very beautiful."
Walking leisurely, Kristen could see how feeble the woman really was though she hid it well most of the time. Maybe that had a lot to do with her gruff exterior.
They moved through the glass doors at the rear of the house out onto the terrace. Kristen held Constance's arm as they went down the flight of stairs that led out onto the lawn and, surprisingly, the woman let her.
"The past winter has been so miserable with these bitter Scotland winds that I took to my bed for months," Constance complained, her eyes hard and filled with regret.
Kristen's steps slowed as she tried to figure out this woman. "Why do ye stay here when London might be more suitable?"
"Because this is my home," Constance explained as she walked with a stiff dignity, her heels clicking on the flagstone steps.
"I'm sorry tae hear that ye haven't been feeling well. Ye are feeling better now?"
"Yes, a little. I must admit that Trevor's news was a bit of a surprise, as I am sure you can imagine." Constance stopped and picked a blood red rose, then held it to her nose as she studied Kristen.
"'Twas a wee bit of a shock tae me, too."
A thin white eyebrow rose a fraction. "Oh, really?"
Kristen studied the lady. Her skin looked more wrinkled and thin than she’d ever seen it. She also appeared tired. Kristen imagined that Constance had probably been pretty in her youth. "Trevor hasn't explained how we met?"
She shook her head. "No, he hasn’t.”
"Then I will let him tell ye, but I can say 'twas a bit of a rescue."
"I see. He felt responsible."
"Something like that." Kristen reached down and picked a rose for herself.
"Where is your family from?"
The woman might have a few wrinkles, but her mind was sharp. Kristen was trying to be careful and not say the wrong thing. She could imagine the woman going into shock if she heard the real story. "Hagan is the only family I have. My parents are dead."
"Such a shame." Constance handed Kristen the rose she had picked, then reached for another. "I guess, in that way, you and Trevor are alike. He didn't get to know his parents very well. I hate to admit it, but my daughter-in-law wasn't the best mother." Constance seemed to catch herself before she revealed too much. "I will not have anyone hurting Trevor. Do you understand? He has a bright future, and deserves the best."
"I agree," Kristen admitted. "And I have pointed that fact out to him. He could do much better than me."
"I quite agree. But he sees things differently, so I expect you to live up to his standards." Constance spoke with cool authority.
He saw things differently? Kristen wondered what he'd said to his grandmother. "I'll do my best as long as he lives up tae mine." She would meet the woman halfway, but she would stand her ground. Actually, Kristen could see a different woman hidden just beneath the surface. She had caught a glimpse of that person just a minute ago. Maybe this crusty exterior was the duchess's way of protecting herself.
"Your Grace," a maid called as she hurried toward them.
As soon as the maid got close enough, she continued, "We have guests, mum."
"Who?"
"Miss Charity Fullbright and her maid, mum."
Constance immediately smiled. "Good. Tell her I'll be there in a moment." She slowly turned back toward the house. "Come, Kristen, and I will introduce you to a very lovely young lady."
Kristen complied, but she had misgivings of meeting anyone who was a ravishing beauty. Especially since she considered herself very plain.
In a few minutes they were in the drawing room, and Kristen stood face to face with the lovely Charity. Kristen watched as the Dowager Duchess hugged the girl. Constance was right. Charity was beautiful. She had black hair which hung in ringlets, and vivid blue eyes. Her cheekbones were high and refined and her lips a soft pink.
Kristen hated her! And then she realized how unfair she was being. Hadn't she resented the way the duchess had judged her?
"Where is Catherine?" Constance asked. "I thought she was coming with you."
"Mother wasn't feeling well and decided to stay home. She sends her regards." Charity smiled.
"I'm sorry to hear such. However, bed is the best place when one isn't feeling chipper." Constance turned and motioned for Kristen to come beside her. I would like for you to meet Kristen Johnstone."
Charity nodded. "Charmed."
"'Tis nice to meet ye." Kristen managed to smile.
"Thank you," Charity murmured politely. "I'm sorry Mother couldn't come."
Charity was very feminine. Yet another reason to hate her.
"You must be Trevor's fiancée."
Kristen nodded.
"I've known Trevor since we were children. It will be nice to know you're living here." Charity's smile seemed sincere.
Confusion settled on Kristen's shoulders as she found herself softening to someone she'd expected to hate. "And why is that?"
"Because we will be neighbors. Living this far out, it's very nice to have friends."
"Come, let's find Trevor." Constance ushered Charity out of the room, leaving Kristen behind. "I know he will want to see you immediately."
Kristen really wasn't surprised by Constance's rude behavior. It actually put Kristen on guard when the woman was nice to her. She shook her head and went to find Hagan.
As she walked down the hallway, her mind keep wandering to Charity and Trevor. Would Trevor really be glad to see the lovely lady? What man wouldn't? Kristen shook herself. Why did she care?
"Oh, no!" she gasped as she made her way to Hagan's room. Somewhere along the line, she'd come to care for Trevor. The one thing she'd wanted to avoid had somehow sneaked up and bitten her.
Now what? The sides of her mouth turned down in a frown. She couldn't let Trevor know how she felt. Surely, he would laugh at the foolish notion. He didn't believe in love . . . and she wasn't sure she did, either. The only love she could really vouch for was what she'd felt for Hagan.
She'd never experienced any other kind.
Trevor had just finished going over Chatsworth's books, and he was pleased with the figures he'd found, but irritated that he'd had such a hard time keeping his mind on the task at hand. He'd never had trouble concentrating before, and he usually looked forward to sitting behind his desk, but not today. Somehow he felt different.
Just as he looked up, his grandmother entered, followed by Charity Fullbright. He automatically stood to greet them. What was his grandmother up to? He was afraid he knew. He took Charity's hand in his. "Charity, it's good to see you."
She blushed. He'd forgotten how pretty she was.
"It has been a while, Trevor." She squeezed his hand. "Congratulations on your upcoming marriage."
"Thank you," Trevor said. Charity was as beautiful as always, but she didn't compare to Kristen. He'd known Charity since childhood, and though his grandmother would like to see them together, he saw Charity as no more than a friend.
"Dinner will be ready in an hour, so you two will have plenty of time to catch up." Constance turned to leave, but Charity's next statement stopped her.
"I really would like to freshen up before we eat."
"Of course, how thoughtless," Constance said. "We'll see you at dinner, Trevor."
Trevor smiled cynically. It was impossible to please his grandmother. She wanted him to get married, and that's what he was trying to do, and she still wasn't happy. She'd only be satisfied if she made the choice for him.
And that wasn't about to happen.
Kristen didn't find Hagan when she arrived at his room, so she went to her own suite to dress for dinner. She really couldn't believe people changed clothes so often, but since it seemed to be the custom, she was trying to fit in, and she was learning to love the luxury of so many gowns from which to chose.
This time she picked a plain velvet dress of deep green. The neckline fitted low on her shoulders and the material was finished with gold embroidered lace around the top. A solid embroidered ceinture fastened in front with an antique gem. Rebecca quickly pulled Kristen's hair up and pinned it so it would tumble down her back in soft curls.
As Kristen headed down the stairs, Hagan came barreling out of his room. "Whatcha been doing all day?"
"Slow down." Kristen reached out and grabbed him by the arm in mid-stride. "I've been trying on my wedding gown."
"All day?"
"Afraid so," Kristen said, starting down the steps.
"I'm glad I'm not a girl."
"Me, too. 'Tis no fun," she admitted. "What did ye do today?"
"Went riding. And guess what?" Hagan didn't wait for her to answer, but went on, "There are some boys that live downstairs and they let me play with them. We had lots of fun."
Kristen stopped at the foot of the stairs and stared at her brother. "I just realized ye never had playmates before." She placed a finger under his chin and tilted it up. "Do ye like it here, Hagan?"
"Sure. It's a lot better than where we used to live. And you know what else?"
"What?"
"There's so much to eat." His eyes grew wide as he took her hand. "I'm hungry. Come on."
Kristen was still laughing when they entered the dining room, and received an arched brow from the Dowager Duchess for her behavior. Trevor was seated at the head of the table with the duchess to his right.
"I see you're in a jolly mood," Trevor commented as he stood and helped Kristen take her seat.
"You didn't pull the chair out for me." Hagan giggled.
"Hasn't anyone taught that child that children are to be seen and not heard!" Constance thundered.
"That's the same thing you said last time." Hagan pointed out. "Do you have trouble hearing, Grandmere?" Hagan asked.
"Certainly not!"
Hagan's brows drew together in a puzzled frown. "Well, why would you only want to look at me, and not hear what I'm saying?"
The dowager's eyes widened. "Trevor, do something!"
Trevor managed to stop laughing long enough to say to Kristen, "I'd like you to meet an old friend. Charity Fullbright."
"I met Kristen earlier." Charity smiled.
"Oh, really," Trevor commented, a little surprised.
"She didn't meet me though," Hagan butted in, and Constance cleared her throat.
"No, I didn’t,” Charity commented.
"There is no hope," Constance grumbled and raised her eyes skyward.
Kristen gave Hagan the evil-eye to calm him down before he gave the dowager duchess a stroke. "This is my very talkative brother, Hagan."
Charity's laughter tinkled like little bells, soft and feminine. Everything about the woman was perfect.
Charity smiled. "I have a brother, too. I bet you're five years old?"
"I'm this many." Hagan held up five chubby fingers.
"So is my brother," Charity said.
The food started arriving and the conversation halted temporarily. It was a feast of roasted turkey and small potatoes, followed by macaroni, mutton casserole, and mince pies.
Dinner ended up being pleasant, and Kristen found Charity was easy to engage in conversation. Kristen couldn't help noticing that Constance was frowning. Evidently, things were not going as she'd planned.
After dinner, Trevor excused himself. A half hour later, Kristen left Constance and Charity talking, and strolled out onto the terrace to get some fresh air. The crickets seemed to be serenading her as she looked out into the dark night.
"Is this a private moment? Or would you like some company?" Trevor asked.
Kristen could see the orange glow of his cheroot. "I just needed some fresh air. Thought ye'd want some time tae renew your acquaintance with Charity." She watched him as he propped his hip on the railing and faced her.
Featherlike laugh lines crinkled around his eyes. "Now, why would I want to do that when I can come out here to be with you?"
"Ye can save the silver-tongue." Kristen laughed, knowing he was playing with her. He sent her pulse spinning when he was in this kind of mood.
"You can see through me already." Trevor smiled. "How are you adjusting to life here at Chatsworth, Kristen?"
"Everything is so different 'tis hard, I do admit, but I guess it isn't tae bad." She managed to shrug and say offhandedly, "Hagan really likes it here. I want tae thank ye for giving him a home and taking up so much time with him." She bent her head and studied her hands. " 'Twasn't part of the bargain, but thank ye."
"I like Hagan," Trevor admitted, throwing the cheroot on the ground. "He's a bright little boy, and he shouldn't be in the streets."
"I agree," she murmured, looking deep into his eyes. They spoke to her with a language all their own. And when he looked at her the way he was looking at her now, it made her very nervous. She forgot everything . . . except him.
He seemed to control every sense she had. No longer could she hear the crickets or feel the breeze. She had to remind herself to breathe as a vaguely sensuous flicker passed between them.
He reached up and brushed her cheek. The smoldering flame she saw in his eyes startled her. "Do you realize when you talk about Hagan your eyes absolutely glitter? Do you think they will ever light up like that for me?"
Her body ached for his touch. "Would ye like that?" she asked huskily. She turned her head and kissed the palm of his hand.
"I think I would." His mouth brushed hers, and she melted easily into his arms. Something intense flared through her and her heart thumped erratically.
Trevor held her for a moment, letting his head rest upon her silky hair. Strange, he felt content just to hold her. She shivered. "Are you cold, love?" he whispered, his breath hot against her ear.
"'Tis the weather that makes me shiver."
"I think it's more than that, Kristen." He took her mouth with a tenderness that he didn't know he possessed as he slipped his hand around the nape of her neck. His hands slid down and locked against her spine while he coaxed her lips to part so he could taste all of her. The kiss was as tender and light as a summer breeze.
She was so wonderful, Trevor thought as he lost himself in her kisses. Desire rose in him and the only thing he could think of was how to remove her clothes. Blood pounded in his brain.
She pulled back. "I dinna want tae feel like this."
"Why?"
"Because ye dinna love me."
Her statement definitely cooled the driving force churning within him. "Ours will not be a normal marriage, but it's what we agreed on," he answered coldly. He stepped back away from the source of his temptation.
"That's right," she remarked, pleased at how nonchalant she sounded. “I remember now."
Trevor felt incredibly low and guilty, but it had been their agreement. "Listen. I do feel something for you, and that might be more than most people have." He could sense she was drawing away from him, and he didn't want that. "How are you and Grandmere getting along?"
"We had a few good moments this afternoon."
"That's more than what I had hoped for." He sighed with exasperation. "Sometimes her good moments are rare."
"'Tis yer grandmother yer taking about." Kristen giggled, putting her hand over her mouth.
"I know." He took her hand. "We better go back in since we're unchaperoned."
Kristen paused and glanced at him. "I did enjoy this quiet moment."
"I did, too." He leaned down and kissed her. There was a dreamy intimacy to their kiss now. "I like kissing you. You kiss very well."
"I had a good teacher." Kristen winked, then turned and disappeared through the doors.
Trevor turned and looked out into the night. Somehow the night seemed just a little colder . . . just a little lonelier.