Lord Uppington spun around as if those scissors had just been jabbed into his posterior. “What is your purpose in being here?” he barked at the wooden-faced footman.
The footman bowed. “Her ladyship has need of Mrs. Mannering’s company upstairs, my lord,” he replied.
“And that message has necessitated your interrupting me out here?” the marquess said. “Take yourself off, fellow, before I take your name and report you.”
The footman bowed again. “I believe the summons was somewhat urgent, ma’am,” he said to Kate.
“Thank you,” she said. “I shall go ahead of you. My lord?” She curtsied to Lord Uppington, pocketed the scissors, and hurried along the gravel walk in the direction of the house.
Nicholas was thankful to be at the end of another dreary afternoon. He had been riding with Dalrymple and Stoughton. Not that he had joined in the conversation with any great enthusiasm. He was bored. Would this infernal ball never be over? And would the house party never come to an end? He only hoped that Clive Seyton would make his move immediately after. Surely he would. In fact, the day before, the earl had said at luncheon that he thought he would take himself off for a couple of weeks to visit friends after his guests left. He was clearly paving the way for the explanations he would have to give various people when he left for France.
Waiting was dreary enough. But he had not even been able to brighten up his days with walks or conversations with Katherine, or even with simply looking at her. That would have been better than nothing. She was extremely pleasant to look at. But for some reason she had decided to keep herself away from the company. She had given in her notice and felt no more obligation to be sociable to Lord Barton’s friends perhaps? She was still frightened of Uppington and had decided to stay completely clear of him?
Nicholas hoped that her absence had nothing to do with him. They had quarreled during their last encounter, but then, they almost always quarreled or managed to exchange some very satisfying insults. She could not have suddenly developed such a disgust of him that she kept to her own room rather than see him, surely. It was the effect he had hoped to have on her at the start, of course. Would it not be ironic if he had succeeded now when he no longer wished to do so? She would be leaving the next day. It seemed unlikely that he would see her again unless he forced the issue somehow.
And he had still not discovered why she wished to contact Nicholas Seyton in Shropshire. The Evanses knew nothing. The Pickerings knew nothing. He had visited both to find out what they knew. It was all most frustrating.
It was as they were climbing the curved steps to the main doorway that Nicholas saw Katherine again. Not just her. She was with someone, and he had a nasty suspicion that it was Uppington. But he held himself back from immediately tearing off to her rescue. There was a third figure in the garden in the unmistakable livery of a footman. Bruce, doubtless, keeping a protective eye on Katherine as he had been directed to do. But how the deuce had Uppington lured her out there when she had not even been seen downstairs in five days?
Nicholas allowed his riding companions to pass inside to the hall without him. He walked back down to the terrace to await the arrival of Katherine, who was hurrying toward him ahead of Bruce.
“Why, Mrs. Mannering,” he said when she was within earshot, though she seemed still not to have seen him. “Rivaling the flowers with your beauty as usual, I see.”
She looked startled. Then she blushed, an interesting sight, he thought. “Oh, Sir Harry,” she said. “What a foolish thing to say.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” he said with a bow. “I knew you might be depended upon to receive a compliment graciously.”
“I am afraid I must hurry,” she said. “Lady Thelma needs me urgently.”
Nicholas looked up at the footman who had come up behind her and was about to pass by. Admirable man, he thought.
“Then I will not detain you,” he said. “I trust you have not been suffering any abuse from our mutual friend yonder?”
Unexpectedly she grinned. “You might ask him the same question,” she said. “Or rather, you might ask that footman. You are more likely to get an honest answer from him.”
“Kate,” he said suddenly as she made to hurry past him, “I assume you will not be attending the ball tonight?”
“No,” she said.
“Neither will I,” he said. “I have already been loudly complaining of the insomnia that plagued me last night. And you still intend to leave tomorrow?”
She nodded, looking earnestly into his face. For perhaps the last time, she was thinking.
“Meet me tonight,” he said, noting how beautiful the widening of her eyes and the returned blush made her. “Over there in the shelter of the trees.” He pointed in the direction of the small copse where he had hidden with his horse one night not so long ago, watching her run across to a side door to let herself in without being seen. “When the dancing is well under way.”
She stared at him. He did not know whether she was going to slap him or merely run past him. “I have to go,” she said at last. And she hurried to the bottom of the steps. But she turned again. “Yes,” she said breathlessly before running lightly up them and disappearing, into the great hall.
And now what had he done? Nicholas was left thinking. He had spoken quite on the spur of the moment, out of a sort of panic that he might never see her again. But to say that such a meeting was unwise was severely to understate the case. It seemed quite obvious what might happen if he kept that appointment—and how could he not? And how would he be able to let her go then? He would be begging her to marry him, dooming her perhaps to share his less-than-respectable life. Always assuming that she would accept him, of course. Katherine Mannering was not likely to take kindly to the kind of trick he had been playing on her.
Fool! he thought, following Kate more slowly up the steps and looking around him for Bruce. And what on earth had been happening in the garden in the last little while? Katherine had appeared do be quite undistressed. Quite the contrary. She had looked rather pleased with life when he had asked about Uppington.
He wished he could recall that rash invitation he had just made. Or did he? He found a new purpose in his stride merely thinking about that the evening held in store for him.
What on earth had she done now? Kate thought as she ran lightly up the stairs, dodging servants. She must be quite mad. She had just made an assignation to meet Sir Harry in a secluded part of the garden at some ungodly hour of the night. It was obvious what the purpose of such a meeting was. It was unlikely that they would occupy themselves discussing the weather. They would probably end up kissing each other at the very least. And she was leaving tomorrow—no, later this same night. She would never see Sir Harry again. She was going to end up feeling the same way tomorrow as she had felt the morning after making love with Nicholas. She must have windmills in her head to invite such misery deliberately.
But what was the alternative? If she failed to keep the appointment, then she had already seen her last of Sir Harry. And she would hate that, wouldn’t she? The temptation was just too great. And what red-blooded female would even try to resist it? she thought. It was strange, though. She had thought Sir Harry did not admire her. Oh, he liked her spirit, maybe. But he did not find her attractive. He had said so. Perhaps she was reading too much into his invitation. But that was ridiculous. Gentlemen just did not invite ladies to clandestine meetings in the garden at night unless they found them just a little bit attractive.
Kate reached Lady Thelma’s room, knocked lightly, and went inside. The bedchamber was in darkness, the heavy velvet curtains having been pulled across the windows. Kate could see as she tiptoed toward the bed that her employer was curled up on it fast asleep. She frowned. Strange! That young footman had made the summons sound quite urgent. Had he been mistaken? She did briefly consider waking Lady Thelma, but after some hesitation she merely shrugged and let herself quietly out of the room again.
