Regency: Courtship And Candlelight: One Final Season. Elizabeth Beacon

certainly thought myself in love with her three years ago, until she convinced me it was hopeless; if that makes me vain and idle, then so be it.’

      Ben gave Edmund another of those searching glances, then nodded as if making up his mind about something. ‘I never really thought you guilty of those vices, so Kate obviously made a fine fist of whistling your mutual happiness down the wind, but have you ever stopped being furious with her long enough to wonder why?’

      ‘No, I just realised my one-sided love would make our lives a farce, even if I managed to persuade her to say yes instead of no in some moment of weakness.’

      ‘If you really loved her, you wouldn’t have given up at the first hurdle.’

      ‘Hardly that.’ Edmund was stung into justifying himself as he looked back over that wild springtide when they’d both been painfully young and he’d been alternately effervescent with hope and cast into the depths of despair by Kate’s inability to see how finely suited they could be, in bed and out, if only she’d open her eyes and see the rich possibilities of it all.

      ‘I grant you she’s stubborn and can be damnably difficult to either drive or lead at times,’ Ben conceded.

      ‘Difficult? She’s nigh impossible,’ Edmund told him with a bitter exasperation he thought he’d conquered, but it seemed that his friend was right and he still had strong feelings toward Kate Alstone, even if foremost among them was currently vexation, closely followed by something darker and angrier and born of three wasted years apart that he refused to examine more closely right now.

      ‘There are one or two good reasons why she’s not exactly the easiest female to live with at times,’ Ben said almost apologetically, which in itself was enough to render Edmund momentarily speechless.

      He shook his head over what those reasons might be and must have looked as puzzled as he felt. ‘I can’t imagine what they might be,’ he replied at last.

      ‘Then apply the brains God gave you and use your imagination, Edmund. Have you ever stopped to wonder how you might feel if you were brought up as a much-loved and indulged child of a happy family instead of a noble and indulged orphan? Then imagine that, one by one, you lost every person in the world who was dear to you one way and another, all but your little sister, whom you then had to fight like a tiger to protect from the suddenly hostile world around you. Kate and Isabella Alstone lost their parents, their brother and, to all intents and purposes, their elder sister in quick succession when Kate was little more than ten years old. Their grandfather, who should have protected them both and loved them all the more, was so wrapped up in his own selfish grief and fury at the fates that he abandoned those two little girls to the so-called care of his daughter, Lady Ennersley, and her daughter, and I wouldn’t trust either with my pet dog, let alone the comfort and education of two innocent and supposedly helpless young girls.

      ‘Take my word for it, Edmund, those two unnatural females are the worst harpies I ever met, and I was brought up near the rookeries and certainly know a harpy when I see one. They constantly belittled and even beat Kate and threatened to do the same to her little sister, except Kate used to get in their way so they couldn’t reach her, which of course meant that they chastised her instead. They also robbed them of all those two little girls held dear, refusing to let them even see Eiliane Rhys as she was then. I know my darling stepmama tried time and again to wrench them both out of their icy grasp, but old Carnwood ignored the plight of his own grandchildren and refused to do anything to stop his daughter or the devil’s spawn she gave birth to making their lives a misery for far too long.

      ‘Those two heartless witches told them he hated them for living when his son and then their brother died and maybe they were even right, for he never made any effort to look to their welfare until it became more comfortable to act on Eiliane’s constant nagging to at least send them to school rather than to refuse to do so. Their aunt and cousin also managed to convince Kate that nobody but the servants cared what became of them, and that even they only gave a damn what happened to them because they were paid to. If not for my darling wife, Shuttleworth, those girls would have remained alienated and adrift even at the school their old fool of a grandfather eventually sent them to, solely to get them out of his way and to stop Eiliane’s constant letters and enquiries about them, and calm the hornet’s nest she stirred up among his wider family to shame him into action.

      ‘Now I respect Charlotte’s judgement and my own instincts well enough to be certain there are very deep and passionate feelings hidden behind Kate’s cool façade, even if you can’t see it. To the wider world she’s a confident and desirable young beauty with riches and privileges at her fingertips most young women would envy her, but if that’s all you see when you look at her, Edmund Worth, maybe you don’t deserve her after all. You might be better off with a less complex and difficult woman if you’re merely in search of an easy life with a conformable wife who’ll exclaim over your cleverness hourly and give birth to a pack of spineless brats you can hand your wealth and titles on to before you finally die of boredom.’

      Perhaps as a fortunate, if often lonely, orphan he had been guilty of envying Miss Katherine Alstone her loving family and so had failed to look beyond the cool indifference with which she met the eyes of the world. He knew better than to dismiss the counsel of a man he respected, Edmund decided, and neither could he ignore the opinion of Ben’s wife, a woman of such extraordinary character, integrity and unusual looks that he couldn’t help but admire her, from a safe distance.

      ‘Maybe I’m not the man you take me for, and perhaps I don’t deserve Kate Alstone as I should if I can’t gain her love, but I never managed to knock down that wall of touch-me-not indifference you claim she’s hiding behind, Ben, even when I was trying my damnedest to demolish it.’

      ‘I suppose you know what they say about faint heart not winning fair lady?’

      ‘All very well, but three years ago my doglike devotion did nothing to win her affection or convince her she can trust me. I hope you don’t expect me to sit at her feet for another three, risking being kicked aside every time she wonders if another pet might not suit her better.’

      ‘Maybe she doesn’t want a pet in the first place, then.’

      ‘What does she want then, man? I’m damned if I know any more.’

      ‘Just that—she wants a man and not a lapdog. She’s a sensible female and finds them pettish and yappy and who can blame her? I’m relieved my wife has never shown any sign of falling for the breed.’

      ‘From what I can tell she just adopts strays, and the larger and uglier the better.’

      Edmund recalled his visit to their eccentric household last week with a reminiscent grin. Mrs Shaw had lately taken in a hound of very mixed breeding and huge size, who bayed at all her visitors and buried his bones under her best furniture, whilst protecting her and hers from all and sundry, even though she didn’t actually stand in need of any protection so far as he could see.

      ‘My point exactly,’ the lady’s husband agreed smugly.

      Edmund wondered what the ton would make of the son of a marquis, even one born the wrong side of the blanket, who smugly claimed kinship with a mongrel of the most mixed variety and dubious origins. Possibly Ben’s very indifference to his own blue blood, and most of his father’s peers along with it, explained why he wasn’t just tolerated, but lionised by all but the most stiff-necked of them. It seemed to him that there was nothing quite so intriguing to most of the ton as someone so genuinely unimpressed by their elegant show and lofty traditions as Ben Shaw appeared to be.

      ‘So next time I call on Miss Alstone, you think I should growl menacingly at all other visitors who dare to enter Lady Pemberley’s drawing room?’ Edmund asked with a rueful grin. ‘Then perhaps I could pin any gentlemen I don’t like the look of up against the wall with teeth bared, whilst I attempt to bay loudly at the same time and dribble down their shirt fronts or all over their precious Hessians while I’m doing it?’

      ‘If you could leave out the drooling, that will probably go