“Ah. That is quite a long tale. The brief version is that my beliefs in God border on blasphemy, and I am blind in one eye. The eye I would aim a gun with, as it turns out. My father’s attempt to teach me to hunt resulted in a number of wounded trees.”
Lady Mary shook her head. “No, I meant the Marriage Ma—you are blind in one eye?” She studied his face as if trying to decide which eye lacked the sight.
Thad tilted his head. “The right one. You cannot tell. So I have been told.”
“You cannot. What happened?”
“No one truly knows. Birth, possibly. Some childhood illness, perhaps, of which I had several. It was not discovered until thoseunfortunate trees. I knew no different, and none of my tutors had noticed. I pay it no mind.” He gestured for her to continue walking. “Now. Tell me about the Highland Ponies.”
With a sweet smile, Lady Mary slipped her hand in behind his elbow, taking his arm. As Thad’s breath caught in his throat, she whispered. “Before I do that, have you ever heard of a relatively new breed called a Clydesdale?”
Chapter Six
Thursday, 27 April 1826
Kirkstone House, Mayfair, London
Quarter to eleven in the evening
Mary watched Mina,the sweet infant’s face peaceful in sleep, the golden curls around her face mussed and slightly damp. Unable to sleep with her thoughts wrapped in spirals around Lord Thaddeus Bolton, Mary had slipped into the nursery, seeking solace in the three beautiful children who slumbered here, lost in their dreams.
Do infants dream?Mary watched as Mina pursed her lips and whimpered but settled right away with a deep sigh. Mary too released a long, slow breath, enamored by the pure loveliness of this child.
Officially Lady Catherine Aminta Elizabeth Caudale, the entiretonthought the girl to be the daughter of a duke, born within wedlock despite rumors to the contrary. A tale Beth had devised to preserve Mary’s reputation, to veil her foolishness and her naiveté. A tale Kit had readily agreed to in order to mask his own guilt for leaving Mary alone, isolated, and vulnerable after their father’s death. A loneliness that saw Mary turning to aprofligate vicar, a man who had seen her not as a lover but a path to the aristocracy.
She still felt that shame deep into her bones.
But though the memories haunted her, the result had been this glorious child, a gift from God himself. While Mary could not claim her child as her own, she would always be grateful for this beautiful life she had watched grow over the past eight months. From the first attempts to push up to the most recent grabbing at toys and babbling, Mina seemed determined to explore her world. Her slobbery “mamamamama,” however, had not been aimed at Mary nor Beth but Nanny, which made Mary’s heart ache.
The words of Lord Thaddeus haunted her. How could thetonbe so inured to their children? Or perhaps it was that way only among some families. Beth’s parents seemed extraordinarily proud of and affectionate toward their four children, supporting Lord Robert through his scandal and Beth through this wild concoction of a tale. They knew the truth, of course, but family secrets seemed sacrosanct among the Kennet clan.
Was Lord Thaddeus’s family that cold and unfeeling toward him? The man was clever and witty, as well as being handsome beyond reason. Why would they be so unfeeling about his prospects? Mary began to ache a bit for him, this man who obviously found more solace in gambling with his friends than in his own home and family. No wonder he found himself in so much debt.
A low murmuring caught Mary’s attention, and she looked at the low cot near Mina’s crib, where one of the other children of this tale lay asleep. Mattie and her brother Joshua—in a separate crib against the far wall—had been left orphaned when their mother died, and Beth and Kit had taken them in, almost without question. They saw the children needed a home, andthey would not ever sleep again if they let them go to an orphanage.
Everything they had done had been to protect these children. To protect Mary. And everything had moved smoothly.
Until the appointment to India. And all their quiet plans had scattered. Mary understood why it had happened. Beth’s father, the Duke of Kennet, had wanted to make sure his new son-in-law had the best options possible for growth and power in Parliament. This appointment had been part of that. Beth had long wanted to visit India, and Kit wanted to take her.
Mary understood it... but understanding did not resolve her feeling of being suddenly left out of the equation. Again. She had tried to stay quiet about it, but then the rumors had started and her mother had left in the face of those—almost screeching “I warned you!” as she departed. Mary and Kit both had horrible tempers, and her loneliness flared one night over a late supper, and brother and sister had screamed at each other for fifteen minutes.
The appointment at the Lyon’s Den happened two days later.
Once again, they were trying to circumvent the natural order of things.
Which now terrified Mary. They had created a house of falsehoods as fragile as fine china.
Even more so now that she had lied to Lord Thaddeus Bolton, who—in the end—seemed a reasonable chap. Certainly amusing to talk to, and not at all intimidated by her knowledge or way of viewing the world. Even more, Mary had felt warm and comfortable in his presence, and his gasp of surprise and wonder when she had taken his arm had made her chest tighten with a desire she had never felt before—certainly not with the vicar.
If all went according to plan, he would be her husband.
She had to tell him.
Even if their house of lies crumbled around them, leaving her to the mercy of an unknown future.
Thursday, 27 April 1826
The Lyon’s Den
