Chapter 26
Kate
Kate buried her face deeper into James’s shoulder as the carriage rocked back and forth over the cobblestones.
She wished they could ask the coachman to continue past her family’s town house.
She was exhausted and had no desire to answer all of her family’s questions tonight, but she and James had vanished from the ball at the same time.
It had the makings of a scandal, and an explanation was unavoidable.
Some questions could wait until morning.
Tonight, they had one secret to share, and Kate hoped it would ease her family’s fears.
Yet the truth of the evening’s events would remain a mystery to everyone who had not been part of it.
There would be no mention of the Arcadian Circle.
No mention of the dead man who had not been dead at all.
Their families would receive a gentler version of the evening, and for now, it had to be enough.
She let out a long-suffering sigh as the carriage came to a halt, lights blazing from every window.
James was watching her, and she met his gaze willingly.
She must be a spectacle. Her hair was windblown, her gown dirty, and her hem tattered, but the look he gave her held a fierce devotion, unquestioning and unwavering.
James caressed her cheek, then buried his hands in her hair as he gave her a lingering kiss, as though the world outside the carriage could wait a little longer.
“I would much rather stay here with you than explain to your parents that we wed in secret, especially while I am in this disheveled state.” He surveyed his attire with a grimace.
In addition to a bruise forming on his jaw, he was missing his coat and cravat, and his remaining clothes were covered in dust. “I am not sure who will be the most incensed—your father, for my failure to consult him, or your mother, for depriving her of her only daughter’s wedding. ”
The carriage door opened and James descended.
Kate took his hand, finding strength and comfort in his touch.
“You forget that they have been hoping we would wed since we were in leading strings.” She chuckled as they walked up the stone stairs.
“Perhaps they will be so elated the event has finally occurred that they will forgive us for the secrecy.”
James stiffened as they entered the foyer. She squeezed his hand and leaned close, rising on her toes to whisper in his ear. “Remember, the sooner we tell our parents we are already wed, the sooner we can begin our life together.”
He tugged her forward.
The drawing room went still the moment they entered, every face turned toward them. Her parents were there, along with Hugh, James’s mother, and Alice. Everyone erupted at once.
James lifted one hand, and the room quieted. “As you may already know, we have had a trying evening. We will explain what we can in the morning, but for now, you can see that both Kate and I are safe.”
Her mother’s focus was not on James, but on their intertwined hands.
“And since you are all present,” he said, “now may be the best time to inform you of a rather significant event—” He paused, bringing her hand to his lips, his gaze never leaving hers as he placed a kiss there.
“I have lost my heart completely to Kate.” He faced the expectant crowd once more. “And we are already husband and wife.”
A collective gasp rippled through the room. Shock lined every face except Hugh’s, who simply gave them a knowing smile. The stunned stillness stretched until Kate felt a twinge of nerves.
But James stood beside her, his posture strong and unshakable. “I know many of you looked forward to a wedding, and you are no doubt disappointed to have missed it,” he said with an apologetic look toward their mothers.
“We wanted to make those vows on our own, without spectacle, and without anyone else deciding what our future ought to be. We are sorry to have denied you the ceremony, but we cannot regret beginning our life together in a way of our own choosing.”
He turned to Kate then, his expression so full of love it made her breath catch.
“I would make the same vows to Kate again in any chapel, before any witness, in any corner of the world she chose.” He turned once again to the group, his chin lifting.
“We only hope you can forgive the secrecy and celebrate with us.”
The tension in the room broke. Their mothers were dabbing their tears with handkerchiefs, and Kate’s father seemed more stunned than truly angry. Alice was the first to speak.
“It is high time I claimed you as my sister,” she cried, rushing forward.
Kate embraced her warmly, and shouts of joy and laughter filled the room.
She overheard Hugh consoling their mother, pointing out the fortune they would save on the wedding feast and how this meant the possibility of grandchildren sooner.
Lord Sutherland approached next. He embraced Kate, kissing the top of her head before fixing James with a wary stare. “Congratulations to you both. But to be clear . . . you were wed this evening?”
James shook his head, a smile on his lips. “We wed four days ago, by special license. The vicar at the parish near Lady Hawthorne’s estate performed the ceremony.”
Kate spoke up, eager to make sure her father knew her heart. “It was my choice as much as his, Father.”
Her father nodded slowly. “While I approve of this match, I do believe we have some things to discuss, Brenton. Come visit me tomorrow.” He gave Kate’s hand a brief squeeze before stepping aside.
“Oh, my darling Kate,” her mother declared as she embraced her.
“I am overjoyed to know you have found love,” she whispered for Kate’s ears only before she pulled back.
“I wish I could have been there,” she sniffled.
Her mother wiped at her eyes, already gleaming with determination.
“But there is no use dwelling on it. Now we must plan a wedding breakfast.”
She glanced at James’s mother. “Two weeks’ time, Louisa? At Brenton Hall?”
The other woman clapped her hands together. “That sounds delightful.”
Lady Brenton wagged a finger at Kate and James before embracing Kate. “And we will hear no argument from either of you. We have been planning your wedding for almost twenty years. The least you can do is allow us to host a wedding breakfast.”
“We would not dream of denying you the pleasure.” Kate hugged her new mother-in-law.
Hugh hugged them both at once, holding tight and lingering.
“Why, Hugh,” James said as he pulled back, “are those tears?”
Hugh laughed. “One or two. Do not make a spectacle of it. My two favorite people in the world are safe and happily wed. I am entitled to a little sentiment.”
Kate offered a reassuring smile. “One day, you will find someone who won’t mind a little sentiment now and then.”
“Poor woman, whoever she is,” Hugh said. His smile faltered for half a breath before he recovered it, returning Kate’s look with his usual easy warmth before they rejoined the cheerful chaos of their families.
Kate stood beside James on the bridge as dawn broke over the Thames. Pale orange light spread, catching in the mist that drifted over water and stone. The city had not yet awakened, but the river moved beneath them, indifferent and unhurried, heedless of what had happened on its banks.
When the message had arrived before dawn, James did not hide it from her. He brought it to her himself, his expression unreadable except for the question in his eyes. Kate read the words twice. The bridge.
“You do not have to come,” he had said quietly.
“No,” she had replied, reaching for her gloves. “I do.”
Now, on the bridge, Kate stole a glance at James as the breeze ruffled his hair. She had never seen him so still, as though every breath he took had to pass through the space where grief had once lived.
“Lord Brenton. Lady Katherine.”
Thomas Whitlock emerged from the mist, his face hollowed by a sleepless night.
“How is he?” James finally asked, his voice rougher than Kate expected.
“The surgeon removed the ball. Henry will live.” Thomas did not soften the words. “Though I cannot say what sort of life remains to a man who traded honor for power.”
“Did you know Henry was an agent?” James asked, his voice raw as Kate took hold of his hand. “Did you know what he had later become?”
Thomas rested his hands on the rail. “I knew Westmarch had recruited him as an agent. I understood enough of that life to know better than to ask him for particulars. And before you ask, yes, I guessed about you. You were too often at his side and too often absent when he was. Either you belonged to that world, or you were close enough to understand it. It was enough, at least, for me to risk trusting you.”
James turned fully toward him. “You sent the list.”
“I did.”
“Where did you get it?” Kate asked.
“I found it beneath a loose floorboard after the river,” Thomas said. “I knew enough of Henry’s habits to know where he hid things. I recognized the list as meaningful, possibly dangerous. At the time, I thought it was part of whatever work he had left unfinished.”
His voice lowered. “Then small irregularities caught my attention. A locked drawer in his writing desk had been opened. An acquaintance insisted I had been on Oxford Street on a night I was nowhere near the place. Another swore he saw me by the dry docks a week later. At first I thought little of it. Then I remembered how often Henry and I had been mistaken for each other, especially from a distance.”
“So, the man at the bookshop, the man below my window, was you?” Kate asked.
Thomas nodded. “The bookshop, yes. I wanted to ensure you were safe.”
The window, then, had been Henry. Kate shivered, tightening her grip on James’s hand.
“You believed he had faked his own death,” James said.
“Not at first,” Thomas said. “But given all of that, and since the river never yielded his body, I began to wonder whether my brother was truly dead.”