Chapter Ten #2
“Still, a man who claims to care for a woman does not abandon her, or his child, to the Fates,” Grayson said. “The Courtlands are in dire straits, without the burdens you have added.”
Rutledge’s startled look made Grayson release an impatient breath. Apparently, Lucy had not been candid about her circumstances, either.
“I thought her guardian would marry her off to someone… better,” the boy muttered, burying his head in his hands again.
Privately, Grayson doubted there was anyone better suited to Lucy than this besotted youth who, no doubt, would be willing to spend a lifetime worshiping at her feet.
The lady in question was known to have a mind of her own, however, and it rarely was in accord with Grayson’s.
Although Grayson would like to put her life in good order, he had no desire to be blamed if her grand romance turned sour.
It was time for Lucy to make her choice.
Grayson found her in the garden, sewing under the shade of the large alder.
Calling softly to announce his approach, he walked toward her, stopping to lean a hand against the tree trunk.
She gave him a sulky nod of acknowledgment that did not wound him in the least. If all went well, he would soon be rid of the chit.
“I have found him,” Grayson said, without preamble, and her eyes flew to his, bright with astonishment.
“His name is Archibold Rutledge, and he is nephew to Squire Wortley, whose farm he manages,” Grayson said. He saw the swift play of emotions cross her features: hope, dismay, disappointment, and a building anger.
Before she could work herself into a fury, he went on. “He claims to have taken my name to impress you, without meaning any harm. He says he loves you and would marry you, if he had prospects.”
Her face fell, and Grayson saw what looked to be real tears pool in the corners of her eyes as she faced the truth.
“If you want him, I will give him employment managing one of my estates,” Grayson said, amused to see her dainty mouth drop open in surprise. “If you do not, then I can try to arrange a suitable marriage for you, but we don’t have much time.”
She sighed, glancing down at herself with a sad smile that made her seem less spoiled and shrewish, and Grayson wondered at the side of her that Rutledge saw. Then she eyed him warily. “This… Mr. Rutledge. He wants to marry me? You are not forcing him?”
Grayson shook his head. “I have not told him of the offer.”
Lucy pursed her lips, then rose to her feet. “I would see him.”
Grayson nodded. “He is close at hand.” Turning, he whistled toward the trees, where Badcock waited with their villain, who had turned out to be little more than a frightened boy, running scared from his responsibilities.
Although Grayson could not condone Rutledge’s actions, he no longer was determined to run the fellow through. Let him be saddled with Lucy for life. That was punishment enough, Grayson thought with a wry smile.
Rutledge climbed down the slope to fall to his knees at Lucy’s feet, which only confirmed Grayson’s suspicions. He shot a glance at Badcock as the two lovers held a tearful reunion, but the valet’s expressionless face revealed nothing.
With a jerk of his head, Grayson summoned his valet, and they made their way back to the house. “Badcock,” Grayson said, his lips curling in contempt as he fled the romantic scene. “If I ever become so besotted as to beg a female for her favors, please shoot me.”
“Yes, my lord.” Something in the valet’s agreement rang false, and Grayson slanted him a sharp glance. But Badcock looked so sober that he dismissed his suspicion. Turning away, the ever-watchful marquess missed his servant’s wry smile.
Kate sat in the corner, feeling oddly out of place in her own kitchen. She had come in to help with dinner, but Meg claimed that Tom could assist her, and her daughter, too, if need be.
“As the lady of the house, you should not soil your pretty hands,” the cook had said.
Reason told Kate that she should be relieved at one less responsibility. There were plenty of other tasks for her at Hargate, and yet she lingered, her sense of displacement growing as she listened to the easy banter between Tom and Meg.
“Here, now, watch out for that hellcat,” Tom said suddenly. He hopped up from his perch on a worn stool, as if to come between the cook and where Cyclops slept atop the bricks of the hearth.
“What? This old love?” Meg asked, reaching up to pet the one-eyed cat. To Kate’s astonishment, the feline let her stroke it a bit before turning in a circle and settling down once more.
Another defection, Kate thought, then frowned at her selfishness.
She should be glad the cat was warming up to someone besides herself and that Tom had taken a liking to the friendly cook.
Some of her burdens were lifted, albeit temporarily.
Yet she had to restrain herself from warning Tom not to become too attached to someone who soon would be gone, along with her master.
As if he had heard her thoughts, the marquess appeared in the doorway. His height was such that he nearly had to duck, and Kate wondered why he came in through the kitchen. She would have expected the nobleman to stay away from the kitchen, now that his servants were here.
She had been avoiding him ever since the Berry Incident, which had joined the Kitchen Incident and the Bathing Incident as sources of embarrassment. It was easier when she didn’t have to see him, for just one look at his tall, lean body was enough to bring it all back.
Kate tore her gaze away and tilted her flushed face downward, willing him to pass by her, but, of course, he did not.
Must he torment her at every opportunity?
She saw his boots move into her line of vision.
They were polished to a black sheen and led up to thighs that she knew were thick with hard muscle…
“I believe a celebratory dinner is in order,” he said. “Lucy’s beau has returned to claim her hand.”
Kate glanced up at him, stunned, while Meg squealed in glee and Tom peppered him with hostile questions. Grayson held up his palm to stem the flow of curses from the coachman, who was out for blood. “He is just a boy, confused and smitten by the lady.”
“Who is it? Wortley’s nephew?” Tom asked.
“Precisely. Archibold Rutledge,” Grayson said. He turned to look back through the doorway as Badcock entered.
“Here they come, my lord,” the valet said.
Kate pasted a smile on her face, but her thoughts were chaotic. Lucy marrying? Who was this boy? And why had he not come forward sooner? Although she had yearned for someone to solve her sister’s problems, now Kate found herself strangely piqued to know nothing of this development.
And then Lucy rushed in, breathless and flushed, with a young man in tow.
Kate’s first thought was how very little he resembled Grayson.
He was much younger, barely more than a gawky boy, shorter and less sturdy, and he wore an uncertain expression that was a far cry from the real Wroth’s cool confidence.
How could Lucy have thought him a marquess? Kate’s smile faded, but she stepped forward to offer her congratulations. Tom, who once had threatened to deprive Lucy’s lover of his privates, slapped the youth on the back jovially, and Kate felt as if the whole world had gone mad.
“And how will you support a wife and child, Mr… Rutledge?” she asked, her voice of reason bringing silence to the room.
“Oh, that!” Lucy answered with a wave of her hand. “Wroth has offered Archibold a position managing one of his properties.”
“It will not pay a fortune, but enough to set up a household,” Grayson said. He gave Lucy a stern look, but she only nodded happily.
“Oh, I don’t want for much, after living here,” Lucy hastened to assure him, and for some reason, the careless remark stung Kate.
She had done her best with what little she had.
Did that not count for anything? “What of our guardian?” she asked, compelled by something she could not have named.
“Surely, you realize that Lucy is underage.” When she saw Lucy’s bright happiness pale, Kate wanted to take back her words, but wasn’t it best to make sure the wedding could go on?
“According to my sources, your guardian is out of the country,” Grayson said. “Post the banns. Once they are read by the local cleric for three Sundays, you may wed. I doubt if your guardian will even hear of the notice, let alone place an objection.”
And if he did, he would have the Marquess of Wroth to deal with, that much was evident in the disdainful lift of Grayson’s dark brow. He cast a glance at Kate that told her not to doubt him.
Instead of being reassured, Kate found Grayson’s confidence annoying. She turned to Lucy. “Still, I would like to make certain that this is in my sister’s best interests. Lucy, may I speak with you alone for a moment?”
Nodding reluctantly, Lucy sent Rutledge a brilliant smile and told him to meet them in the drawing room in a few minutes. “Send some tea up, will you, Meg?” she asked, waving a languid hand.
Kate wondered if Grayson’s new position came complete with cook and housemaid, but she knew the answer immediately. Servants were employed in all but the poorest of homes. And Hargate. She frowned and pulled her sister into one of the smaller rooms off the gallery.
“Are you certain that this is what you want, Lucy?”
“Yes, and I hope you are not going to spoil it for me, Kate.”
The taunt hurt, for Kate had done nothing except struggle to keep her sister content these past few years. “I only want what is best for you, and I must admit that your… gentleman seems rather young. Will you be happy with him in a smaller home, with a child to care for?”
Lucy sighed, pouting prettily. “Would you have me prefer it here, slaving like a servant to hang on to a house that means nothing to me, a legacy that has left me nothing?”
Kate flinched, startled by the vehemence in her sister’s expression, but then it softened, as if Lucy were having second thoughts.
“Katie, I know you’ve worked hard for us, but I’m not like you. You were always the smart one, the strong one, the brave one. You can ride and bake and do accounts and anything! I used to hate you for it, but now I’ve finally got something of my own.”
She paused to produce a crooked smile. “Oh, Wroth offered to arrange another marriage for me, but I’m comfortable with Archibold.
He won’t tuck me away in some corner while he conducts affairs, as those arrogant lords are wont to do.
He’ll pay attention to me. Me, Katie. And I won’t have to do anything except look pretty. ”
Kate swallowed, her throat suddenly thick with emotion, her eyes smarting under the pressure of tears at her sister’s revelations. She had never dreamed that Lucy might be jealous of her. And for what? Kate could only blink in dismay, still disbelieving.
But Lucy was right about one thing. They had heard about ton marriages, in which infidelity was common for both spouses, and Kate deemed it better that her flighty sister be out of temptation’s way.
Although technically a mésalliance, her union with Mr. Rutledge was hardly lowering, considering their current circumstances. Indeed, Lucy would probably be better off than at Hargate, where every day was a struggle.
Kate choked back a sob as Lucy caught her up in a tight embrace, the first sign of affection she had received from her sister in a long time.
There was so much she wanted to say, but before she could even form the words, Lucy was moving back into the gallery, just as if the poignant moment between them had never occurred.
Drawing a deep breath, Kate leaned dazedly against the doorjamb trying once more to sort out her chaotic feelings. Everything seemed to be happening so fast when only a fortnight ago her life had been quiet and predictable. What had changed? Kate wondered dizzily. The answer came all too swiftly.
Grayson had appeared, and nothing would ever be the same again.