Page 1 of A Daring Desire

Chapter 1

Lady Kilbane,

I pray the messenger I charged with delivering this letter finds you at home.

I have these past days accompanied Lord Kilbane on his journey back to England in the worst weather you can imagine. He undertook this journey much against my advice, as I was of the opinion his lordship had contracted the influenza. This suspicion has been borne out and I fear he is now gravely ill. We have this morning arrived in Folkestone and I have done my level best to persuade him to stay put but he will not have it. He is, for the moment, in charge of his wits enough to command me as he wishes but his fever is such, I suspect this will not endure long.

If this letter has the good fortune to come into your hands before we arrive, I beg you will have all ready for him and a doctor to attend to him at once.

Forgive me, my lady, I would not disturb your peace of mind for the world, but I confess I am in such a state of agitation I do not know what else to do but to beg you for your aid.

―Excerpt of a letter from Mr Gilbert Berrycloth to The Most Hon’ble Catherine ‘Cat’ St Just, Marchioness of Kilbane (daughter of the Most Hon’ble Lucian and Matilda Barrington, Marquess and Marchioness of Montagu).

16th December 1849, Beverwyck, London.

Cat stood on the steps of Beverwyck, watching as Aggie and Fred’s carriage drove them away to begin their new lives together. Melancholy settled upon her, as heavy and clinging as damp wool, and she had not the energy to shake it off. Still, she laughed and smiled with her friends and her family, all of them celebrating and in excellent spirits, and she made every effort to appear delighted. She was delighted for Aggie and Fred. They were her dearest friends, and of all people, she wanted them to have their happily ever after. They truly deserved it. Yet, she was not so selfless or good that she could share in their joy and feel no twinge of jealousy. She scolded herself for it, for the envy she felt when she saw Fred gaze upon his new wife as though he’d discovered something rare and precious that was his alone, but she could not cure herself of it. Perhaps if Lord Kilbane had ever looked at her with anything less than irritation or contempt, she might have borne it more easily, but her hopes had withered and died, and she was lost. If she did not have her dreams of her husband, of the future she had been so certain could be theirs, she did not know what the years to come held for her.

She could take a lover, which might ease her loneliness. She certainly had offers enough to choose from, but could she really have a family and allow them to bear the stigma of illegitimacy? Her husband had told her he would recognise any female children, but everyone would know they were none of his. He would instantly condemn any boy to be labelled a bastard, for Lord Kilbane refused to have any heirs to inherit his title. Tears pricked at her eyes as she considered the cavernous, empty years before her, with no children of her own to dote upon.

Just as her throat tightened uncomfortably and she feared herself on the verge of breaking down, she felt a warm hand clasp hers and turned to see her father staring down at her. His silver eyes glinted with emotion, and she swallowed hard, wondering how anyone could think him cold and unfeeling when she saw such depths of sorrow there.

“Take a deep breath,” he said, his voice low.

Cat did as he instructed, holding his gaze as his hand firmed around hers. She let the breath go, and with it the vice around her heart eased, just a little.

Her father smiled and reached out, stroking her cheek.

“That’s my girl,” he said with approval. “Why don’t you come home to Dern? We miss you so, and there are plenty of places to go if you want to cry… or throw things,” he added, his lips quirking.

Cat blinked, a little astonished. “Do you throw things, Papa?”

He gave a nonchalant shrug. “Usually, I make my fencing partners cry, but if no one will cross swords with me, it has been known.”

Despite everything, she laughed and reached up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll fence with you,” she said, wondering how her father always knew exactly what to say to lift her out of gloom.

“Ah, but you are the bravest person I know,” he said, his eyes smiling now. “And you are afraid of nothing.”

“Perhaps not nothing,” she amended, her smile faltering.

“There is nothing you cannot do,” he said, his voice fiercer now. “I believe in you, Cat, and you know I will support you, protect you, no matter what you do. No matter what,” he repeated, with such emphasis that Cat swallowed.

She nodded, understanding that he would stand by her no matter the gossip, no matter what path she took, no matter that he would hate every moment of it. Staring up at him, she wished with all her heart that she had given him reason to be proud of her, that she had married a man who her father could have liked, that she could have given him grandchildren he could dote upon without the aura of scandal that must surround them.

“Let me go to France,” he demanded, for perhaps the fiftieth time. “Let me see him and—”

“And what, Papa?” she said helplessly. “You know this was none of his doing. You don’t want him to return and be a husband to me even if he would consider it. What can you do exactly?”

“Murder the bastard,” her father muttered under his breath.

Cat took his arm, looking up at him with sympathy, knowing how his inability to act, to change the world to suit her, was driving him to distraction. “That’s unfair. He saved me from ruin when he didn’t have to, and he left me alone as you wanted him to. Like him or loathe him, I created this dreadful situation. No one else. I made my bed and now I must lie on it.”

“There is another option, Cat—”

Cat felt a rush of relief as a familiar voice interrupted her father before he could say the dreadful words she knew he had been wanting to say for weeks.

“Now, what is all this? I do hope you are not plotting and sharing secrets without me?”

Cat felt her heart clench as she saw the way her father’s face lit up at the sound of her mother’s voice. He held out his hand and Mama took it, her expression full of warmth as she regarded Cat.