Chapter Eight #3
He was used to company. He didn’t like being on his own because that was when the ghosts of the past crept in, along with disquiet about what he was doing with his life.
Also, he kept thinking of Kate Summerby.
Why on earth had he told her about his mother?
He’d never confided his feelings about her flight to anyone, certainly not to Cecily, and he was bewildered by the fact that he’d divulged his secret vulnerability to someone he might never see again.
Last night he’d surprised his friends by departing early from a gambling session at Raggett’s club, and the next morning, still thoroughly out of sorts, he decided to go out into the garden and demolish the hideous statue of Hercules that Cecily had begged for.
It had irked him for some time, with those trinkets and ribbons that dangled from it and the ribald comments that had been scrawled on the plinth.
So at half past ten, clad in tough boots, buckskin breeches and a loose linen shirt, he marched up to it and began wielding his pickaxe.
It wasn’t long before the head footman, Giles, came out to ask a little warily, ‘My lord. Do you require any assistance?’
Dan wiped the sweat from his forehead. ‘No thanks. I’m enjoying myself.’
Rather to his surprise, he realised the statement was true. Yes, the statue of Hercules, quite brazen in its unclad masculinity, must go completely, He carried on, pausing only briefly to roll up his shirtsleeves, and was still labouring away when he realised he had a visitor.
Miss Kate Summerby had emerged from the woods and was heading for his house in an alarmingly purposeful manner. But when she saw him and what he was doing, she halted in astonishment. He put down his pickaxe and called, ‘Good morning. Are you out for a stroll?’
She wore a wide-brimmed straw sun hat and a loose-fitting, pastel-green frock. It was made of a delicate gauzy fabric, and when the sunlight shone through it, the whole effect was to show rather more of her delightfully feminine figure than she perhaps intended. She came closer, clearly wary.
‘That’s right—a stroll,’ she said. ‘And as I was passing close by, I thought… Lord Rivington, I know I’m intruding, but I truly must speak with you!’
She looked quite flustered and really very sweet. He felt warnings shooting through his body and his brain but said casually, leaning on the handle of his pickaxe, ‘I’m all yours. Fire away.’
‘Oh, it is rather silly!’ She hesitated. ‘But it’s also quite possibly disastrous.’
‘Let me guess. Harriet has set your kitchen on fire?’
She laughed. He loved to hear her laugh and see the way it lit up her face. ‘Nothing like that, my lord. But I am concerned, because, you see, I’ve had a letter from my sister, and she declares she intends to visit me very soon.’
‘Is she missing you?’
‘That, I fear, is not her reason. She thinks I am being seen in bad company.’
‘Meaning me?’
‘Meaning you, exactly. She mentions you by name, and it is so embarrassing! I wanted to consult you first, but I feel the best course is to write to her that there is absolutely no need for her visit, because our outings, besides being at an end, were of very little significance.’
‘Were they?’
She looked absolutely and utterly startled. There was silence, then she said, ‘Well, I don’t mean I didn’t enjoy them, and it was most generous of you to suggest them. But Monica has clearly read far too much into our appearances together.’
‘Our outings were,’ he said solemnly, ‘of the most scandalous nature. An operatic evening and a lecture.’
‘Scandalous? Oh, you are teasing me, of course! Yes, it was all quite harmless, I know. But Monica has a habit of blowing things up out of all proportion, and her imagination will be running wild.’
‘Really? In what direction?’ Mischievous of him, he knew, but he enjoyed watching her struggle to frame her reply.
At last, she said, ‘She suspects, I fear, that you might intend to make me your mistress. Which I shall tell her is utterly absurd.’
‘Why?’
She looked amazed. ‘Why? Because I am not the kind of woman any man would choose as his mistress. Look at me!’
‘I am looking,’ he said.
Now he was being totally wicked, and her embarrassment was turning to annoyance.
‘My lord, this is serious. I thought I ought to warn you, and of course I shall write and banish her wild imaginings that there is anything at all between us. You surely don’t want her spreading false gossip about us!
Especially as…’ She halted a moment. ‘Especially as you have suffered enough troublesome gossip in the past.’
‘That,’ he said, ‘is not your concern, Miss Summerby. Now, I hate to contradict you, but it’s my opinion that we should do exactly the opposite of what you suggest. I think we definitely should be seen together again.’
Her eyes widened in disbelief. ‘My lord?’
Dan folded his arms and gave a roguish smile. ‘I’ve learned through experience that it’s always a mistake to give in to bullies. Besides, I have a strong suspicion your sister might like you back in her household, to look after those children of hers.’
‘Yes! Oh, those were my thoughts exactly!’
‘When is your sister planning to arrive?’
‘She didn’t say, but she implied it would be soon.’
‘Well, as it happens, I’ve today received an invitation to a summer party next Friday evening, and I think you should come with me. Whether your sister arrives before or after the event, she is bound to hear of it, and her surprise will be delightful to behold.’
‘But I don’t want Monica to think I have any designs on you!’
Her look of surprised indignation was delicious, but he kept a straight face and said, ‘I do understand. The thought of you chasing after me is ridiculous, isn’t it?
’ With the heel of one boot, he was edging away a pink garter that lay amongst the debris of Hercules just beside him, endeavouring also to shift his stance so he was hiding the most garish scrawl on the still-standing plinth.
Daniel is a love god. ‘But,’ he went on, ‘for our neighbourliness to have any impact at all on your sister, we must plan another outing, definitely a party this time, and the one I’ve suggested will be perfectly genteel, I assure you. Why does the idea of it dismay you?’
‘Actually,’ she said slowly, ‘I enjoyed our outings more than I expected. But surely, we both know we make an unusual pair.’
‘Why?’
‘Because—because you’re you, and I’m a relative nobody! People just couldn’t understand why you’d invited me. Especially the women.’
She scowled a little, but he was lifting one eyebrow. ‘Didn’t you see the way their husbands were watching you?’
‘No.’ She looked puzzled. ‘I didn’t.’
‘Then you’re not as observant as I’d thought. Those men were paying quite a lot of attention to you—too much, in the opinion of their wives.’
‘Ridiculous.’ She waved a hand in dismissal.
‘Not ridiculous at all. Now, the host of this party is Mr Roland Darrow—he’s the architect who designed this house and he lives on Marine Parade.
He and his wife are pleasant and respectable company, and I think we should take pleasure in once again startling not only your sister, but any others who wish to belittle you. What do you say?’
‘What can I say? You are inviting me to a party, but I cannot even dance!’
‘That doesn’t matter in the least. We can talk to a few people and admire the house and garden, but we need not stay long. You can view it as the final act of our agreement. And when your sister hears of it, she will be furious.’
She still looked doubtful, and that was the exact moment when a chunk of Hercules crashed to the ground close to Miss Summerby’s feet. She looked down at it, then at him. ‘Why,’ she said, ‘are you demolishing this statue?’
‘It’s unsafe. Dangerous, maybe. As you see.’
She nodded, but she still looked doubtful, and he wondered if she realised that the real danger she faced was from him. He tried to tell himself that his offer of another outing was chivalry, nothing more—but that was rubbish because, quite simply, he had missed her.
An idea struck him. ‘What,’ he said suddenly, ‘do you think your aunt would have advised? She would have wanted you to enjoy yourself living at Clematis Villa, wouldn’t she?’
‘I’m sure of it.’
‘Then imagine she was here, right now. I had the privilege of knowing her a little and I think she would urge you to have fun. She would tell you, I’m certain, to show your sister and anyone else that you just do not care what they think.’
She was watching him with eyes that were suddenly shadowed. ‘Are you quite sure that you aren’t doing this to make a fool of me? To get your own back because I insulted you in the past?’
‘On my honour. I am merely to be your convenient route to total acceptance in local Society.’
She appeared to be thinking a moment. He liked the way her smooth brow always puckered slightly when she did that. At last, she looked up at him again.
‘Then let us,’ she said defiantly, ‘surprise the gossips one more time, shall we? And there is no danger of anyone taking our friendship too seriously, because they all know you will return to London when the summer ends.’
He found he didn’t particularly want to think about that yet. Instead, he said, ‘Exactly! I shall be in and out of your life before you know it.’
‘Excellent.’ She nodded firmly. ‘That suits me perfectly.’
He almost laughed. Miss Summerby was proving to be an excellent remedy for his vanity. ‘Very well. On Friday evening, I shall call for you at eight.’
‘I shall be ready. Thank you and goodbye for now, my lord! Oh—and by the way, I expect the guests will be in formal evening wear?’
‘Yes. Even me,’ he said solemnly.
He watched her walking off, noticing how defiantly she carried herself despite that slight limp.
In fact, he watched her too long for safety’s sake, because he was thinking that with her fair hair and in that delicate, gauzy gown she could almost have been a wood nymph come to tempt a mere mortal like himself—and he was tempted, badly.
He sincerely hoped she had no idea of the sensations she was currently arousing in him, because she would be running for home.
Except that she couldn’t run, of course. How cruel life could be.
He lifted his pickaxe again to hack off another piece of Hercules, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Quite apart from her feminine allure he liked a lot of things about her, such as the way she faced up to him when he challenged her and the fact that she was intelligent and clearly saw through the pretences adopted by many of the haut ton.
Life had been unkind to her, but she had fought on with determination and often humour too.
He was realising that he felt a better man in her company, but she still wasn’t sure in the least about him; she had made that quite clear.
And beneath the cool exterior she tried to hide behind, he wondered if she maybe had secret dreams of her own that she had learned, from bitter experience, to cast aside.
She had said she didn’t enjoy dancing. But he guessed that if he swept her up in his arms and whirled her around a ballroom, she would adore it—which led him, dangerously, to think that there were surely many other things she could be taught to enjoy. Kisses, caresses and much more…
Alarmed by the way his pulse had speeded up, he ordered himself back to common sense.
Miss Summerby would never fall for a man who hosted drunken parties and fell asleep during concerts.
He went back to work with such force that Hercules stood no chance at all, and twenty minutes later, the statue was nothing but a pile of rubble.
Kate walked slowly back to Clematis Villa, every so often kicking disconsolately at pebbles on the path. She had told Harriet she was going to see the Earl but hadn’t said why and predictably, Harriet was waiting by the open door to find out. ‘Well? What happened?’
Kate tugged off her straw sun hat. ‘I’m going to a party with him. On Friday evening.’
She headed into the parlour to flop down on the sofa and Harriet flew after her. ‘A party! But I thought you said…’
‘I know. No more outings, I said! But—well, he persuaded me and I think he is right. You see, Harriet, my sister is threatening to visit. She’s worried about me and the Earl.’ She pulled the letter from her pocket and handed it over.
As Harriet read it, she grew pale. ‘Your sister is coming here?’ Harriet peered closer. ‘She says you are courting scandal, Kate! But won’t going to a party with His Lordship make her even more worried?’
‘The Earl thinks she needs to be defied, and I’m inclined to agree. This party is a respectable one, he says, and of course I am quite safe, because he is not courting me. After this there will be no more outings, I am sure.’
‘You said that last time.’
‘Well, this one will certainly be the end. Now, it really is time for us to get on with making those new cushion covers.’
But as they settled down to sew, Kate found that her needle was going anywhere but in the right place because she just could not concentrate. Had she really promised to go to a party with a man who was known to be a rake? Didn’t she know that men as attractive as him were never to be trusted?
It was the sympathy he had shown her that was the problem. Sympathy weakened her, as the Viscount’s son had realised. Yes, it was the Earl’s sympathy and his smile and those gorgeous blue eyes of his and his strong shoulders and…
‘Kate?’ Harriet’s tentative voice interrupted her brooding thoughts. ‘Kate, I think you’re using completely the wrong colour of thread. You should be working with green, not red.’
‘Oh, my goodness!’ Kate looked with horror at what she was doing. ‘You’re right. I shall have to unpick it and start again.’
Which was, of course, what she wished she could do right now about everything, because she was quite possibly going to make a complete fool of herself. At least once the end of summer came, he would be gone, and she would have the freedom to do exactly what she wished, which was…
She wasn’t exactly sure what, and somehow, the prospect of life without her troublesome neighbour left an empty feeling in her heart.
She couldn’t admit it to Harriet, but already she was having sleepless nights over him and dreaming things she shouldn’t, like him holding her in his arms and kissing her…
‘Kate.’ Harriet was holding out the spool of blue thread. ‘Here you are. This is the one you need.’
‘Thank you, Harriet. Goodness, I must concentrate!’
‘On the sewing, you mean?’ said Harriet.
‘Of course. What else?’
Harriet gave her a meaningful look but said nothing at all.