Chapter Eleven
Kitty picked up the letter from her desk and read,
My dearest niece,
I stopped by as we arranged, and you were not at the bookshop.
My patience will only last so long. I’ve been doing my own research on your work, and I’m not sure the Marquess of Everly would be happy to discover his wife is the printing press for the scandalous books written by that so-called writer, B.
Martin. Shall I call on your husband and ask?
Meet me here in four days, in the evening, or I will arrange an appointment with him.
Uncle Dominic
She balled up the missive and tossed it across the room. She was angry and frustrated that her uncle kept threatening her. She hated that he held any power over her. Still, it was Kitty’s secrets that allowed him to blackmail her. She needed to tell Oliver and deal with the consequences.
She’d hoped that when she didn’t show up for her appointment with Uncle Dominic, he would have given up, but it was clear that wasn’t going to happen.
But Oliver was focused on preparing to visit his friend.
She didn’t want to reveal all the details about the illicit publications right before he left.
No, Kitty would pay Uncle Dominic this one time, and when Oliver returned, she would tell him the truth.
Oliver was a good man, and he cared about her.
He would understand. He had to—though her heart quaked with fear.
Deep down, she was terrified he would be furious and that she’d lose him forever.
What if he was so scandalized he wanted nothing to do with her ever again?
It was too terrible an idea to be borne.
Kitty scribbled out a note for her uncle and rang the bell on her desk. Shannon responded.
“How may I be of assistance, Kitty?”
She held out the missive. “Please, have this delivered to my uncle. Additionally, I need you and Jack to work here, late, in four days?”
Shannon frowned. “You are going to give him money.”
“Just this one time,” Kitty insisted.
“It won’t be once. I can have Jack deal with him.”
Kitty knew Shannon’s husband would assist her in any way she requested, but only one thing would end all of this.
“I need to finally tell Oliver the truth, so Uncle Dominic has no more power over me and my sisters. Unfortunately, Oliver is leaving London tomorrow for the country, because his friend needs assistance.”
“You require help too, Kitty.”
She did, but was too nervous to ask Oliver for it. Uncle Dominic’s words appeared in her mind. Do you think he will accept you publishing your illegal books?
Shannon, of course, was right, but she also wanted to present the market to Oliver in the right way.
She hoped he would see it in the same light as she did.
Now wasn’t the appropriate moment when he was worried about his friend.
Kitty couldn’t possibly tell him her scandalous information before he left.
“I know, but I will only give in to my uncle’s demands one time. ”
Her friend looked prepared to argue with her, but then—surprisingly—didn’t. “Jack and I will be here.”
Later that evening, Kitty lay in bed with Oliver, both naked. They’d given up on separate beds. Oliver had instructed the staff to move her things into his bedchamber this morning. She snuggled into him as he leisurely ran his fingers up and down her side.
Oliver wound her hair on top of her head and kissed the back of her neck and shoulder. Perhaps she should tell him about her uncle now. The closer they became, the more she felt the need to unburden herself of all her secrets.
“Kitty, I’m grateful you understand why I need to leave. Winthrop and Carrington are my oldest friends. We made a pact that we’d always support each other. Winthrop’s struggled since our return from the war.”
No, she would wait to reveal her truths to Oliver. She didn’t want to burden him more. Concerned for this man she was starting to care for so deeply, she asked, “Do you have similar difficulties?”
He was quiet for a moment, and Kitty rolled to her back so she could look up at him.
He had a contemplative look on his face.
“I have nightmares, and at times I become agitated in crowds. We all have our struggles. Unfortunately, Winthrop saw several of his fellow soldiers die before his eyes. He is considered a hero, but I suspect that title doesn’t sit with him very well. ”
She reached up and stroked his face. “It saddens me that you and our fellow countrymen have endured so much. I’m here for you, Oliver. Please always know that.”
He brushed a kiss across her lips. “I love you, Kitty. I have been apprehensive to say it, but I can’t deny it any longer. You have become my world in such a short amount of time.”
She pulled him in for another kiss. “I love you too, Oliver.”
They smiled at one another, and Kitty added, “When you return, I will show you around the bookshop and the printing press factory.”
She wanted no more secrets. His eyes lit up. “I would like that. I want to know all about you, especially the family business you care about so much. Not to be in the way, but to understand you better.”
She did truly love this man. They’d started their union for practical reasons, but his every action showed how much he cared about her. Kitty’s eyes flitted down to his hard shaft. He wanted her. And she needed him. “Make love to me.”
Oliver rolled her to her side and slid in behind her, palming her breast. Kitty pushed her bottom against his lower body.
This position might have been one of her favorites, and she suspected it was one of Oliver’s, too.
He grasped her hip with one of his hands and thrust deep into her quim.
A moan escaped her. She didn’t worry about the future or what he would think when her secrets were revealed.
No, Kitty allowed herself to become lost in their tempo, believing everything would be all right because they loved each other.
She moaned in delight as his hand slid between her thighs. All thoughts but her want for this man left her.
Two days later, Oliver sat in the drawing room of his friend’s country estate.
It had taken everything in him to leave Kitty, but he was glad he had come.
Winthrop was a disheveled mess. Yesterday, he’d tried to make the butler send them back to London, but finally emerged from his room when they refused to depart.
Now Winthrop took a sip of brandy—his third of the day. It wasn’t even late afternoon yet. “I don’t know why my staff wrote, concerned. I’m fine.”
“When was the last time you left this house?” Carrington asked.
“Or your bedchamber?” Oliver added.
Winthrop, sulking that they dared to be worried about him, folded his arms across his chest. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”
Oliver studied his friend. His clothes were a rumpled mess, his hair way too long, and his coloring paler than usual. His friend was often tanned by the sun, but right now his skin was pale and sallow.
“You can talk to us. You seemed fine at my wedding. What happened to cause you to lock yourself away?” Oliver asked.
“You can share anything with us,” Carrington stated.
Winthrop took another sip of his brandy before rising and making his way to a table. He pulled a letter off a stack of papers. He handed it to Oliver, who opened it.
As he began to read, his breath caught in surprise.
The letter was from the Duke of Wellington.
The contents were not shocking—at least not in Oliver’s opinion.
But, he supposed, they awakened some memories Winthrop would rather forget.
He read the document and passed it to Carrington and looked at his friend for an explanation.
Winthrop scowled. “I’m not a hero. Almost a dozen men died under my command. I couldn’t save them.”
Silence hung in the room. His friend finished his brandy. “Christ, I tried.”
“The men under your command were dedicated to you. They wouldn’t want you to mourn them this way. I was there,” Carrington said.
“Yes, but you weren’t in charge,” Winthrop snapped back.
“No, but they were like brothers to me.” Carrington continued. “We told each other everything. You know, they respected you.”
Oliver reached over and squeezed Winthrop’s hand. “I’m sorry you lost so many, but you can’t drink yourself to death.”
Winthrop wiped at his eyes. “What do either of you suggest I do? I can’t sleep, and I hate being around people—crowds. And loud noises.”
“Return to London and be closer to those who love you,” Oliver suggested.
“London is crowded. And noisy. It’s… well, besides, I’m the last of my line since my mother passed while I was away. I feel better here in the country.”
Carrington shook his head. “If you felt better, you wouldn’t be drinking brandy for breakfast. And you’re forgetting—you have us.”
Oliver nodded. “My mother loves you like a second son. You have her. And Julia is beside herself with worry over you.”
Winthrop closed his eyes as if Oliver’s sister’s name pained him. He wondered for a moment if something more than his sister’s tendre existed between them.
“Come back to London,” Carrington pleaded.
Winthrop sagged his shoulders and sighed, defeated. Then he met their gazes. “I will not attend any balls or anything like that.”
Oliver shrugged. “Neither of us enjoy balls, so we won’t be forcing you to attend any. But we would ask you to join us for dinners or cards at the clubs.”
Winthrop nodded. “All right. I will. First, I need to visit my men’s families. That is why I returned here.”
Most of the men who fought alongside Winthrop had been from the local village bordering his estate. Oliver couldn’t fathom how difficult being here must be for his friend. Now Carrington moved to sit next to Winthrop. He squeezed his shoulder. “I will join you.”
Oliver nodded. “Me too.”
Winthrop shook his head. “Everly, I insist you leave tomorrow. Carrington and I will follow by the end of the week. I can’t keep you away from your bride.”
“She understands—”
Interrupting him, Winthrop said, “That may be the case, but I want you to enjoy your first weeks of marriage. Carrington can handle me.”
Oliver glanced at Carrington, who gave a slight nod. There was no use in fighting with Winthrop, and he couldn’t deny that the idea of returning to Kitty a few days early thrilled him.
“Fine, but you promise you will have dinner with my family on Saturday. My mother, sister, and Kitty’s sisters are moving back into the Everly Townhouse while I’m visiting you.”
Winthrop nodded. “If you insist.”
“I do.”
Winthrop stood and walked to the window, gazing out across his estate grounds. Eventually, he said, “How is married life? I know there was some uncertainty about the match.”
“It has gone well. I love her.”
Both Carrington and Winthrop turned to face him, staring at him in shock. He felt himself flush. “I do. She is everything I could ask for.”
“You’ve determined all this in a matter of weeks?” Winthrop questioned.
“Why did she seek out Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s assistance?” Carrington asked.
Oliver wasn’t sure. She’d mentioned something about her uncle, but hadn’t gone into detail. Before he could respond, Carrington added, “Normally, matches by Mrs. Dove-Lyon are preceded by some type of scandal. I’m glad that isn’t the case.”
It wasn’t, Oliver thought, but a bit of apprehension settled in the pit of his stomach because he’d been so focused on making sure his family’s fortunes were restored, he was unsure if Kitty had ever given him a real reason why she’d sought the club owner’s services.
Was there a scandal of some kind? It wouldn’t be unusual…
No, Oliver wouldn’t jump to conclusions. He would ask Kitty when he returned tomorrow. He stood. “I’m happy with how my arrangement with the Lyon’s Den owner worked out. Shall we take a walk?”
Winthrop started to shake his head, but Carrington pulled him up. “You don’t have a choice. His question was for me.”
A gruff bark of laughter escaped Winthrop—the first one since they’d arrived. It made him and Carrington smile.