Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1. Louise Allen

my goodness, what a shatterbrained thing that would be, to be sure,’ Lady Fanny tittered. ‘Dear Cousin Nicholas would be annoyed with me. And he has moved to the Dower House, I understand? I wonder how he can live there instead of in all this splendour.’ She gazed myopically at the exotic wallpaper and the Aubusson rugs and sighed wistfully.

      ‘This is very splendid, I quite agree,’ Katherine said, wondering compassionately exactly where Lady Fanny lodged since her mother’s death, ‘But I must confess to having fallen in love with the Dower House; it is quite charming and I never get lost, which I do all the time here.’

      ‘And you too are living there now?’

      ‘Yes, just for a while, since yesterday. I am helping Nicholas with some renovations he is planning, that is all.’ Was her new chaperon going to comment on this highly peculiar arrangement? It appeared not. Katherine just hoped that she was not going to think it her duty to move into the Dower House too.

      To her relief, for she had to confess that she was finding conversation with Lady Fanny somewhat hard going, Nick came over to join them. ‘Have you persuaded the Duke to buy a new carriage?’ she asked.

      ‘No.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘I shall just have to buy one myself and lend it to him so he is convinced. I will order it next time I am in Newcastle. What colour would you prefer for the upholstery? Burgundy, dark blue?’

      ‘Forest green, I think,’ Katherine said, then caught herself. What was she thinking of? ‘But naturally, you must choose, I do not know what would be best for a gentleman’s carriage. Will you place the order when we go into Newcastle for the first fittings for our new clothes?’

      ‘No need. Madame LeBlanc and my tailor will come out here for the fittings, the day after tomorrow. My bootmaker will send my shoes; he still has my lasts, so fitting is no problem.’

      ‘They will come here?’ Katherine queried. This was life as she was totally unused to living it, that was obvious.

      ‘But of course, Katherine dear.’ Lady Fanny looked astonished. ‘This is the Duke’s household, no local tradesperson would dream of doing anything else.’

      ‘Would you excuse us for one moment, Cousin Fanny?’ Nicholas took Katherine’s hand and led her to a quiet corner of the room. ‘Is she driving you demented?’ he asked sympathetically.

      ‘Certainly not, what an improper thing to say,’ Katherine said reprovingly. ‘She is perhaps a little difficult to make conversation with …’

      ‘She is an amiable peahen,’ Lady Fanny’s unsympathetic relative commented, ‘but she will serve the purpose.’

      ‘Are you still annoyed at the Duke’s decision to hold the ball?’

      Nick regarded her thoughtfully. ‘No, I have come to the conclusion that it was an admirable idea.’ Now why did she suspect him of a hidden meaning behind that gracious acknowledgment? ‘And it has inspired me to suggest that we hold a dinner party at the Dower House.’

      ‘Us? A dinner party? At the Dower House?’

      ‘Kat, I have to tell you, you sound every bit as bird-witted as Cousin Fanny. Yes, us, a dinner party. Just for the household here.’

      ‘When? Why?’ If she was still sounding bird-witted she could not help it.

      ‘Three days after the ball, I thought. And why? Because I have a desire to entertain in my own home.’

      ‘Would it not be better after I have gone? I can hardly act the hostess …’

      ‘Why not? Or do you think I should ask Cousin Fanny to take that role?’ He hesitated. ‘Please, Kat, it would give me so much pleasure.’

      Nick had never asked her for anything in that way before and it made her feel guilty. She had put him in a position where his homecoming was overshadowed by his sham marriage; surely the least she could do was to agree to a dinner party where all the guests were known to her.

      ‘Yes, of course, if you would like it. We had better stop talking apart, and I must rescue poor Mr Rossington, who appears to be receiving an account of the set of church kneelers Lady Fanny is producing.’

      ‘No harm in that,’ Nick said heartlessly. ‘He is, after all, supposed to excel in Christian charity. Ouch!’ he added indignantly as his wife gave him a sharp jab in the ribs with a forefinger and went to the chaplain’s assistance.

      As she joined the discussion on the minute details of the kneelers, Katherine looked back and caught his eye. ‘I am sorry,’ she mouthed.

      ‘I forgive you,’ he mouthed back with such a gentle smile that her heart contracted sharply. Constant contact with him was such a torment, such a deliciously anguished reminder of just how much she liked her husband, how much she loved him, how much she was coming to desire him. She tried to work out how many days were left before the month was up, before he would permit her to begin the annulment process, and realised she had lost track of time. This would not do, she must pull herself together, stop playing at being Lady Seaton and make her plans before her feelings for Nick seduced her into abandoning all principle.

      ‘And all edged with laurel leaves in gold, how lovely,’ she said serenely to Lady Fanny. ‘You must tell me how you chart your patterns.’ And in the meantime there was no excuse for not behaving as a lady should.

      Two days after Lady Fanny’s arrival, Madame LeBlanc and her entourage arrived at the Dower House. Katherine peered around the edge of the screen in her bedroom as Jenny undid her morning dress and helped her out of it. Madame herself carried nothing. Behind her two girls struggled with a vast box from which a foam of tissue paper emerged and behind them came the senior seamstress with a basket of threads, pincushions and extra lengths of silk.

      ‘This is exciting,’ Jenny whispered, peeping round the screen.

      ‘I know, I cannot wait to see it. Can you pass me my wrapper, please?’

      Katherine emerged, fumbling for the ties of her wrapper, but too eager to see the new gown to wait and tie them properly. ‘Madame, good morning. You seem to have made excellent progress.’

      ‘I believe so Miss Cunningham. I expect there to be few changes necessary, in which case, if a room can be made available, my girls can finish the gown here today.’

      ‘But of course.’ Katherine turned to the box as layers of tissue were removed, revealing the pale primrose silk. Pale silk and an intricate pattern of crystal beading across a bodice with a twisted neckline and no sleeves. ‘This is the wrong gown! Madame, this is not the gown I chose.’

      ‘No, Miss Cunningham, but his lordship countermanded the decision …’

      ‘We will see about that.’ Wrapper flying, Katherine stalked over to the connecting door that led to Nick’s dressing room. She had never tried it to see if it were locked, considering that to check on such a thing showed little confidence in him. Now it jerked open under her hand.

      The dressing room was deserted, but the door into his bedchamber stood ajar. Furious, Katherine palmed it open and swept into the room. ‘Nicholas! Will you kindly tell me what is the meaning of—?’ and found herself confronting her husband in his shirt and apparently little else and a pair of dark-clad men, one clutching a pair of satin knee breeches, the other with his mouth full of pins.

      Nick stared, enchanted and aroused at the sight of Kat, colour high, storming into his bedchamber in her stockinged feet, unfastened wrapper flying, bosom heaving above a very fetching set of stays.

      The tailors whipped round and beat a hasty retreat. ‘We will wait outside, my lord,’ one mumbled dangerously through the pins. Nick ignored him, scarcely registering the sound of the door closing behind them.

      ‘Kat, darling …’ All he wanted to do was sweep her up, toss her on to the bed and make ruthless love to her until her anger turned to gasps of passion.

      ‘Don’t you darling me, you deceitful man!