Page 42 of A Daring Desire

“Well, and about time too,” Berrycloth said with approval.

Kilbane glowered at him. “But what good does it do?” he asked testily. “I’ve bollocksed the whole thing up, which is hardly surprising, bearing in mind my history. I… I’ve not the first idea about how to… to love anyone,” he admitted, feeling like an utter pillock.

“Yes, you do.”

Kilbane looked at his sister in surprise, and she smiled at him. “It begins by caring what becomes of them, by trying to make their lives better with your presence in it. Like you did for me, and for the rest of your brothers and sisters.”

He snorted at this description. “I acknowledged the connection and tried to give you the money you were due. That’s barely common decency. I might be a villain, but I’m not a crook.”

“No, you are not a crook, and not a villain either,” she said.

Kilbane sneered at her. “Oh, you’ve changed your tune.”

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “I have, because I see now what Cat has known all this time. You’re not half so wicked as everyone believes you to be.”

Kilbane quirked a dark eyebrow and regarded Berrycloth. “Do you want to enlighten her, or shall I?”

Aggie waved this off. “Oh, I’m not saying you’ve not behaved badly in the past.”

“Diabolically,” Berrycloth murmured under his breath.

“Not helping,” Aggie said sharply before carrying on. “But you were young and had too much wealth at your disposal and time on your hands. Not to mention the weight of your father and brother’s reputations to contend with. I don’t doubt everyone expected you to be just like them and that made you wild with the injustice of it. It certainly would have done to me. No wonder you went to the devil, besides never having had anyone show you any other way. But now you do.”

Kilbane gave her a sceptical glance. “Are you meaning to reform me?”

“Oh, no,” Aggie said, shaking her head. “Cat wouldn’t like it above half if we did that. She’s always loved your wickedness, you know, but perhaps we can show you how to win her back, and how to keep her too. If you are willing?”

Kilbane stared at her, and then looked to his long-suffering secretary, and even the ill-used Mr Bancroft. Why they were bothering with him when they must know that Catherine would be better off without him, he could not fathom. There had been a time in his life when he had longed to be good, to be respectable and live a decent life, but he’d had that taken from him. It had been made clear to him that life was not for him and so he had embraced wickedness and sent himself to the devil with the single-minded intention of never coming back. It had never occurred to him he might want or need a second chance. However, one thing was evident. Living the rest of his days without Catherine by his side would be the worst kind of punishment he could devise for a lifetime of wickedness and debauchery. So, even if he must repent of his sins and become—and the word clanged in his brain with a good deal of unpleasantness—respectable then, by God, that’s what he’d do.

“I’m willing,” he said with a taut nod.

“Good man!” Bancroft said, apparently having forgiven him for choking the life out of him only moments earlier. An odd fellow. “Well, then we have no time to lose. Lady St Clair’s ball is in two days.”

“What? What ball?” Kilbane said, apprehension dripping down his spine.

“The one you are going to attend in order to woo your wife,” Aggie said, her voice stern.

Kilbane groaned.

Chapter 13

Dearest Aggie,

Will you be attending Harriet’s ball on Friday? I confess I am not much looking forward to it. I am not in the mood to socialise and pretend to enjoy myself. I had been in high spirits until of late, but I have not heard from Kilbane yet, and whilst I did not expect him to appear at Dern, not with the mood Papa is in regarding him, I had thought I might hear something by now.

Is he well? Have you seen him at all? I confess I am a little worried. He looked so wretched when I left and now, I wonder if perhaps I ought not to have been so hard on him.

―Excerpt of a letter to The Right Hon’ble Lady Agatha Adolphus (adopted daughter of Louis César and Evie de Montluc, the Comte and Comtesse de Villen) from 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).

9th January 1850, The Countess St Clair’s New Year’s Ball, St James’s, London.

“If it wasn’t so cold and wet, I think I should prefer to get out and walk. It seems ridiculous to bring a carriage such a short distance, but we would have arrived looking like drowned rats,” Cat’s mama said, rubbing her gloved hand across the fogged-up window of the carriage.

The road to the St Clair’s elegant home on St James was clogged with carriages as the cream of the ton were deposited before the door of that exclusive address.

“Do you think Papa will make it?” Cat asked, for her father had remained at Dern to attend to business and had been due to arrive at their home on the other side of St James’ this afternoon. He still had not appeared when they had left to attend a drinks party with their neighbours before travelling to the other side of St James to Lady St Clair’s home.

“Certainly, though perhaps he will be late,” Mama said with a sigh.