Page 25 of A Countess Never Tells

John peered at them through eyes that were mere slits. “Tolerable, Ashwood. I would’ve been better suited had I not been looking for my sister these past ten minutes.”

“I am sorry about that, John.” Kitty spoke up, determined to play her part. “Lord Ashwood and I danced and then we met some friends and have been conversing with them just over there.” She pointed to the corner of the room that was all but hidden by the orchestra. “I looked for you when the dance ended, but neither you nor Judith were present.”

“Your brother had a difference of opinion with Lord Quatford.” Judith came forward before John could speak and took Kitty’s arm.

“What about?” Suddenly concerned by the import of that statement, Kitty shot Ash a questioning look before going with Judith. If Quatford had declared for her, Kitty didn’t know what she would do. Even though she knew the answer she intended to give Ash, she wanted time to actually turn down one suitor before accepting the other.

“Horses, of course.”

Kitty feared her sigh of relief had been audible. “Well, I can believe that.” Her brother considered himself a good judge of horses, which he most assuredly was not.

“They had to go all the way to the stables in order to compare the conformation of two of Braeton’s horses. Lady Braeton was on Quatford’s side, so you know his was the correct opinion.”

“I still say—” John was about to take up the matter again, but Judith stopped him.

“It is settled, my lord. Do not make Kitty miserable with the retelling of it now. In the carriage on the way home is time enough.” Judith then addressed herself to Ash. “Good evening, Lord Ashwood. I did not mean to slight you.”

“And you did not, my lady. I did wish to ask after your daughter. Miss Tate has told me something of your troubles, which I hope are now relegated to the past.” Ash sounded genuinely interested in Anna, although Kitty doubted he was much concerned about a six-year-old. But he was making an impression on Judith, and that was a good thing. As the two deepened their conversation, Kitty turned to John.

“I have had an offer of a carriage ride in the park tomorrow afternoon with Lord Ashwood, John.” He did not need to know she’d had another offer from Ash as well. “I would very much like to tell him yes.” She hoped her voice sounded confident. Her brother respected strength and conviction, so if she could make him believe the drive was a foregone conclusion, she should be able to get him to agree.

“What kind of conveyance?” John glanced toward Ash. “You cannot drive about in a closed carriage, Kitty.”

“As I well know, John.” She pursed her lips at him.

“It is my open landau, my lord.” Ash had turned from his conversation with Judith and taken up this one. The man could maintain two different conversations at once, it seemed. A singular talent. “Completely respectable by Society’s reckoning.”

John growled then sent a look to Judith, who took his arm.

“I see no reason Kitty should not be allowed to go, my dear. They will be out in the open for all the park to see. I believe Kitty will be in good hands for that short a while.” Judith smoothed John down, God bless her. Kitty didn’t know what she’d have done if not for Judith.

“Very well then.” John’s reply was clipped and scarcely gracious. “You may pick her up at three o’clock, and she must return no later than five. We are dining with Lord and Lady Foster tomorrow evening.”

“Thank you, my lord. I shall have her back on the very dot of five o’clock.” Ash’s grin was almost ear to ear.

Kitty hoped their conversation regarding marriage did not run terribly long. They must take a turn around the park, which was fine if they saw no one they knew, which was doubtful. Then have this discussion during which she must turn Ash down, and afterward, if her rake felt up to it, they could find a secluded path and he could show her more about the wonderful world of kisses. How they could manage all that and return to Haxby House by five o’clock, she didn’t know, but she had utter faith in Ash. Although she disliked thinking of it this way, there was absolutely no doubt the man had done this sort of thing before.

Chapter 11

There was certainly something to be said for living well. Especially when one was doing so at such an exclusive club as White’s.

With time to kill before he went to pick up Kitty for their drive, Ash had come to his club for a bite to eat. The dining room today was scarcely half full, the atmosphere more staid than usual, but then it was early in the day. The very walls seemed soothing, the off-white color all but obliterated by the myriad portraits looking down fondly on the current members. It gave a man a sense of accomplishment to have such a place accept him. Especially a man such as Ash.

Savoring the last bite of his beefsteak, cooked so rare the meat looked blue, Ash sighed in contentment. The perfect club, the perfect meal, the perfect marriage. Life would be good indeed if he could persuade Kitty to accept his proposal. Only hours now until he’d have what he’d desired so fiercely this past week: Kitty Tate betrothed to him. He lifted his wineglass and savored the last swallow of the fine Bordeaux. Just as he’d savor every moment of Kitty’s capitulation. It couldn’t come too soon.

He’d come so close last evening to simply pulling her behind a bush, lifting her skirts, and taking her then and there. She wouldn’t have made any protest, of that he was certain. That was the rake in him talking. Thank God he’d shown restraint, and never more than when her slim fingers had stroked his cock. It had been a near thing then to spilling himself, which would’ve been, while not disastrous, quite an inconvenience, especially if her brother had seen the stain.

Still, he wanted to take his time with Kitty, luxuriating in their bed together, relishing every moment of their love making. Their wedding night must be enjoyed slowly, thoroughly, sucking every ounce of pleasure out of the experience.

Ash stared at his empty wine glass, lost in thought. One thing that troubled him…well, not troubled but rather irritated him was that Kitty, unlike every other lady of his acquaintance, had managed to tease his first name out of him. God, but he hated that she knew his actual name. What his mother must’ve been thinking to give him such an insupportable first name was beyond comprehension. She never would tell him, which made him even more perturbed. The name of the purest knight at King Arthur’s Round Table. The one who’d found the Holy Grail. Who’d lived a completely celibate life.

Ash shuddered and called for more wine. In that respect, he and his namesake were complete opposites. If Mother had been hoping he’d live up to the name, she must’ve been sorely disappointed. God only knew what Kitty must think of it. The irony couldn’t have escaped her.

He’d not been celibate since his fifteenth birthday when he’d persuaded one of the maids into coming out to the stable with him. Not his best performance, but your first time at anything was never your best. When his father had found out, he’d warmed his backside with a cane. The maid had been sacked. He’d felt badly about that. So badly, in fact, he’d tracked her to her home village and given her his entire month’s allowance. Looking back on the incident, he’d been damn lucky no untoward consequences had arisen from that glorious act. Over the years, he’d learned certain tricks that helped prevent unwanted progeny. To his knowledge, he had no illegitimate issue, although a couple of ladies had been married off hastily after their assignations with Ash and produced an heir for their husbands in record time.

The second bottle of wine went down as smoothly as the first, and Ash was about to ask for a third when his ears pricked up at the name “Kitty Tate” spoken by a gentleman at the table directly behind his. Ash occupied himself by playing with the stem of his wineglass, twirling it back and forth as though contemplating more wine, all the while homing in on the conversation behind him, which seemed to be regarding a wager between the table’s two occupants.

“Fifty pounds say you can’t kiss her publicly at Lady Carlisle’s ball, Baltimore.”