Chapter Thirty-Five
Katherine
For the first time since Cook Clem had returned to the kitchen, Katherine couldn’t enjoy her dinner.
She gave it her full attention, keeping her gaze down on her plate as she cut her roast chicken into ever smaller and smaller pieces, but the bites she finally did put into her mouth were flavorless.
Exceedingly generous.
Henry’s words rolled over and over in her mind.
He’d bartered for her. Received a liberal offer in return for brokering deals with his clients.
She didn’t know which hurt more. The fact that Henry had been like all the others, seeing marriage to her as a path to financial prosperity or that he would agree to betray his clients for his own gain.
She’d thought him honorable. Forthright.
She’d thought he’d loved her for her own appeal.
“…isn’t that right, dear?”
Katherine looked up to find Lady Havenstone looking at her expectantly. “Umm…yes?”
The woman nodded. “We all are. One never appreciates the comforts of home until sequestered in another’s house. But that all ends tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is indeed a happy day.” Lady Mary sat two seats to Katherine’s right, at the foot of the table tonight. She must have outmaneuvered Miss Walker for that seat. She waggled her eyebrows at Katherine and gave her a significant look. “Tomorrow everything will be resolved.”
Katherine blinked. She turned her head to look behind her, but no one else was there. Whatever cryptic message Lady Mary had was intended for her. Perhaps she should have been paying more attention to the others during dinner instead of nursing her broken heart.
“I am resolved to never again attend a house party.” Lord Havenstone swirled his wine in his glass. “Especially during foul weather.”
“It hasn’t been so bad. If everyone was more willing to engage in the entertainment I suggested, it would have been even better.” Miss Walker toyed with her necklace. “I, for one, will be a bit sad on my departure tomorrow. It will well and truly feel like Perrin is gone.”
“And good riddance,” Havenstone muttered.
Mr. Withers dropped his fork on his plate with a clatter. He leaned back in his chair. “I am most eager to return home, though I’ll miss Miranda, of course.”
“Miranda?” Lady Mary’s forehead wrinkled. “Bertram….”
“Lady Perrin is dead. For many years.” Miss Walker slammed her glass down on the table. Wine sloshed over the rim onto the tablecloth. “I don’t know why you men can’t remember that. She wasn’t a saint.”
Lady Mary looked at Miss Walker as though she were something unmentionable in the gutter.
“Everyone is aware of her passing. I’m certain Betram only meant he’ll miss all the memories he has of his sister in this house.
A house which she managed so well. A house, and those in it, that loved her.
” And not you was left unspoken but heard by all.
“Of course, that’s what I meant.” Mr. Withers’s face went red. He took a swallow of his drink. “I’m tired of everyone questioning me.”
Lord Havenstone leaned over to his wife. “So very happy to be leaving on the morrow,” he murmured. “To peace and quiet and away from these people.”
Lady Havenstone nodded. “Pass the butter. If this is to be our last meal from Cook Clem, I want to enjoy it fully.”
Katherine rubbed her nose. The lady’s words sounded almost like an accusation, but that made little sense.
Lord Havenstone was quick to comply. “Yes, dear.”
Katherine’s lips twitched. She raised her gaze to see if Henry had observed the interaction.
Their eyes met. The amusement in hers fled at the intensity in his. She’d forgotten she’d been ignoring him. Forgotten that he was yet another man more interested in an alliance with her father than a happy marriage with her. She looked back at her plate.
“Has everyone finished with their packing?” Mr. Ryder made a valiant attempt for neutral conversation. “The roads are quite rutted, I expect, so if you have anything breakable, be sure to pack it well.”
“Yes, a big travel day for all of us.” Lady Mary thanked the footman who took her plate and replaced it with a glass dish filled with syllabub. “Well, all but one. One of us won’t be leaving in the morning.” She gave the table another significant look.
“Uh, you mean yourself?” Mr. Ryder dug his spoon into his own syllabub, lifting it to reveal layers of cream and fruit. “You aren’t leaving Perrin Manor tomorrow?”
“Well, no, I’m not leaving tomorrow.” She pressed her lips together. “Two of us won’t be leaving in the morning, I meant. But, I’ve said too much.”
Katherine couldn’t help her glance to Henry. Even in her disappointment, she had to know if he understood Lady Mary any better than she did.
It appeared he didn’t. Henry rubbed his jaw. “Is there something you wish to tell us, Lady Mary?”
Lady Mary patted her lips with her napkin. “No, not at all. What a wonderful dessert to end our time together.”
“The last dessert I’ll ever taste from Cook Clem,” Lady Havenstone muttered.
Her husband’s face darkened.
Everyone became too preoccupied with their syllabubs to question Lady Mary further. The hint of sherry and the tang of lemon made the frothy berry and cream concoction a delight. It was almost enough to raise Katherine’s spirits.
A few of the men went to the billiards room after dinner, but everyone else made their way to the sitting room.
There was packing to be done and early morning travels for some, but no one seemed eager to retire.
Even though there weren’t many friends among the guests, it did feel as though they were the survivors of some natural disaster.
Rescue was imminent, but departing after everything they’d been through together felt like a solemn event. One that should be respected.
Lady Mary took Katherine’s elbow and dragged her to the corner of the room. “We need to talk.”
“All right.” Katherine shook the older woman loose and rubbed her arm. “What is it? And what were all those strange hints at dinner? I didn’t understand a one of them.”
“It’s all a part of my plan.” She peered over Katherine’s shoulder and lowered her voice.
“I’m setting a trap for the killer. I laid the foundation at dinner with my hints about someone not leaving tomorrow.
Now we must be overheard saying the magistrate told me he will be making an arrest in the morning. ”
“Did he tell you that?”
Lady Mary sighed. “Of course not. It wouldn’t be much of a trap then. It would only be the truth.”
Katherine crossed her arms over her chest. “To what end? How, exactly, do you expect this trap to spring?”
Lady Mary spoke to her slowly, as though she were a particularly dull-witted child. “When the killer hears he or she is to be arrested in the morning, he will take a runner tonight. I’ve put the stable master on alert, and we’ll be staying up to watch who tries to leave.”
“What will we be doing?” Henry strolled up to them, a cup of steaming tea in his hand. He gave it to Katherine. “Have you finally devised a way to discover the murderer?”
“I have,” Lady Mary said.
While the lady repeated her plan, Katherine took a sip of the tea. It was sweetened just to her liking, with the smallest dollop of cream.
Her shoulders drooped. The man had observed how she took her tea and made it exactly to her specifications. Was even this a ruse, a manipulative attempt to win her affections in order to obtain her father’s money? Or was he a decent enough sort of man who would try to keep any wife of his happy?
Neither of those options appealed.
“It seems highly unlikely that your ploy will work.” Henry ran his hand up the back of his head. “The magistrate seemed an intelligent enough fellow. I say we let him do his job and stop playing at detectives.”
“Playing?” Lady Mary sounded insulted. “I can assure you this is no game to me.”
In her heart, Katherine agreed with Henry’s assessment, but pride had her siding with Lady Mary. She lifted her chin. “It’s a brilliant plan. Shall we deploy it now? I can speak just loud enough to be overheard.”
Lady Mary glanced over Katherine’s shoulder again. “Yes. And sound shocked, like you can’t believe it.”
That would be easy enough. Raising her voice just enough, she exclaimed, “The magistrate told you he would be making an arrest in the morning? If he knows, why wait?” Even though Lady Mary hadn’t told her to include that last bit, Katherine thought it added a dash of authenticity.
She’d expected loud gasps. Perhaps an oath or two.
But there was only a brief pause in conversation behind her, a slight hush, and then everything resumed as it was before.
Miss Walker attempted to convince the others to engage in one last entertainment, Mr. Withers made some nonsensical comment to the Havenstones, and Mr. Ryder sighed heavily.
“Was that all right?” Katherine asked. “Did they hear?”
“They heard.” Lady Mary adjusted her spectacles. “Now we wait.”
“For how long?” Katherine had her belongings to pack. A letter to write, letting Mr. Evans know his schemes toward her had failed.
She swallowed. Well, perhaps it would be best if she just left quietly. Let him think that her heart had only been but lightly touched, that their parting was of little consequence.
“All night if necessary,” Lady Mary said.
“You may choose to stay awake all night, but Katherine and I won’t be joining you.” Henry took her cup of tea and set it down on a side table. “She and I need to talk.”
“We certainly do not.” Katherine felt a grim sort of satisfaction at the surprise on his face. “I heard enough this afternoon. I have packing to do. I, for one, cannot wait to return to London.”
He grabbed her elbow, halting her retreat. “What is the matter?” His forehead wrinkled. “I have good news to tell you. Will you not listen?”
“No.” She jerked her arm away. She was tired.
Tired of being a chess piece her father moved about his board.
Tired of looking over her shoulder in this house, suspecting decent people of being killers.
Most of all, she was tired of herself, for succumbing to a silly hope that she could control her future.
She should accept her position, be grateful for all that she did have, and never again surrender to silly feelings like love.
Henry darted a glance at Lady Mary. “Let’s go somewhere where we can speak privately.”
Lady Mary tsked, her gaze bright, flitting between her and Henry. “That wouldn’t look proper. You can pretend I’m not here. I will be the soul of discretion.”
Katherine was glad someone was finding this situation amusing. “No discretion is needed. I am going to my room.” With a quick good night to her father, she fled.
Only to find Henry barring her way up the stairs. “What has happened between when we were last together and now? Why are you angry?”
She’d hoped to avoid this, but perhaps it was better to air everything out. Let her start fresh with no regrets. “After my interview with the magistrate, I came back to the sitting room. I heard you and Father on the terrace through the window.”
Henry rubbed his temple. “And? Shouldn’t you be happy? Your father gave his permission for us to marry.”
“You think that’s what I wanted?” Katherine made an effort to lower her voice. She’d thought he knew her better. Knew that she didn’t want a man who saw her as an acquisition. It seemed even the best of men, when presented with an opportunity for wealth, didn’t have the strength to refuse.
He slowly straightened, a mask dropping over his face. “Yes. When you let me inside your body, that was the impression I was under.” He stepped aside, and waved his arm toward the steps. “Forgive me for being but a roadblock in your path. I should have remembered my place.”
She clenched her fists. She wanted to pull out her hair, tear at his clothes. Why was he so frustrating? He was the one in the wrong. He knew she didn’t care about things like status. Was he trying to make her the villain in order to protect his own ego? Or had he actually been hurt by her words?
She blew out a breath. This was too important to run from. She needed to be explicit. “Did you, or did you not, negotiate with my father on what terms you would accept for marrying me?”
“I did.” A muscle ticced in his jaw. “Do you want to hear said terms?”
The backs of her eyes burned. At least he’d had the honesty to admit it. No, Henry wasn’t the sort of man to dance around the facts, to wheedle or whine when he was caught out. Even when he broke her heart, he made her fall for him a little bit more.
She blinked rapidly, not wanting to let him see her cry. “I do not. Goodbye, Henry.” She darted past him and raced up the steps. She waited for him to call out, chase after her, try to stop her in some way.
He did nothing.