Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1. Louise Allen

his hands as she did so. ‘They will be so happy to see you again,’ she said firmly with a bright smile. The feel of it on her lips reminded her of the determined smile she used to use to assure her younger brother that he had nothing to fear from a visit to the tooth-puller. Inside she had an unpleasant feeling that it was just as false a hope that Nick’s homecoming would be painless.

      Nick raised one brow quizzically; he was obviously not convinced either. ‘I am putting all my reliance upon my father being so charmed by my beautiful wife that he forgets my numerous sins.’

      Katherine blushed. She was not beautiful, she knew that. Her chin was too pointed, her eyes too big, her hair was too dark to be truly fashionable and her manner far too independent and forthright to appeal to an elderly patriarch. That is, if he managed to look beyond the staggering debt she had brought to the marriage.

      ‘There is no point in flattering me,’ she said briskly. ‘I do not believe you, and in any case your father is going to have far too much on his mind to notice anything about me except the manifest disadvantages of the situation.’

      Nick settled back against the battered squabs and regarded her seriously. ‘I have told you before that you are beautiful. Why do you not believe me?’

      ‘You told me I resemble a cat,’ she pointed out. ‘And I know I am not in the slightest in the fashionable mode; I am far too used to having my own way …’

      ‘Surely not,’ Nick interrupted. ‘Your life recently, if I may say so, appears to have consisted of anything but self-will and indulgence. You have no close friends that I am aware of, no money, no life of your own. You have been an unpaid housekeeper for years and somehow you seem to have remained meek and dutiful in the face of your brother’s outrageously selfish behaviour. If that is having your own way, then our definitions of it must be very different.’

      ‘I am too managing, then,’ she amended, trying not to let him see how his ruthless description of her life affected her.

      ‘A most useful attribute in a wife. I am sure my father will entirely approve of it.’

      ‘Will that be before he learns of my debts and the annulment, or afterwards?’

      ‘There is no need to worry about the debt, I told you. And we agreed to leave the annulment for one month after we arrive in Northumberland, did we not?’

      ‘But we must tell your family,’ Katherine protested.

      ‘Why?’ he asked, infuriatingly bland.

      ‘Because … because they will be very shocked to learn of it if they have begun by accepting me as your wife. And will they not expect us to … to share a bedchamber? I mean …’ The colour was rising in her cheeks again, she realised, furious with herself.

      ‘That is another thing you need not worry about.’ Nick’s smile was obviously intended to reassure; all it did was infuriate her.

      ‘How can I not worry?’ she demanded. ‘I would be an idiot not to worry about things.’

      Her temper appeared to amuse Nick. ‘Now you are a married lady, you should surrender all your worries to your husband,’ he remarked, obviously intent on provoking her.

      Katherine directed a smouldering look at him. The temptation to retort was strong, but she could sense his enjoyment at sparring with her. Self-preservation told her that the less pleasure he found in her company, the safer her feelings for him would be.

      ‘Very well, Nicholas,’ she said meekly, folding her hands demurely in her lap.

      Unfortunately this uncharacteristic behaviour produced the opposite effect to the one she wanted. Nicholas roared with laughter and leaned forward to pinch her chin affectionately. ‘Do you know what you look like now?’ he demanded. ‘The kitchen cat with her eyes on a chump chop, just waiting until Cook is out of the kitchen.’ The shift in position brought him closer to the window. ‘It has started to rain, I had better let Jenny back inside and take a turn with the reins. Will you pull the check strong?’

      Torn between relief at not being alone with Nick any longer, and anxiety about the two men becoming drenched up on the exposed box, Katherine greeted Jenny somewhat distractedly.

      ‘Did you enjoy the fresh air?’ she asked as the maid shook the first raindrops off her cloak and draped it over the seat beside her to dry. ‘I wish I could ride outside, but I fear it is not even worth suggesting that to Nicholas.’

      ‘It is good to be outside,’ Jenny commented, ‘but, my goodness, that box seat is hard, I declare that my backside is quite benumbed.’

      ‘Jenny! What a thing to say. You should have asked John to stop and come inside much earlier.’

      ‘I wanted to give you a good chance to talk to Mr Lydgate,’ Jenny said, shrugging off the reproof. ‘Did it help? Has he confided in you?’

      ‘Not a great deal. He told me a little about his father—who is somewhat elderly—and his younger brother. His father is a farmer, I gather.’

      ‘A prosperous one by all accounts. The master didn’t get that way of speaking or those manners at the plough’s tail or the village dame school.’

      Katherine blinked, then decided to ignore Jenny’s turn of phrase. She had never once in Katherine’s hearing referred to Philip as ‘the master', only as ‘Mr Philip'.

      ‘No,’ she agreed. ‘He is probably a prosperous squire, well able to give his sons a tutor and send them to university.’

      ‘So you’ve come to an understanding, then? There won’t be any more talk of ending the marriage?’ Jenny asked brightly.

      ‘No, of course not! Whatever are you thinking of—naturally we must have the marriage annulled.’

      ‘Despite the way you feel about him?’

      Katherine met Jenny’s shrewd eyes and struggled to keep the truth out of her own. ‘What do you mean?’ she demanded. ‘Naturally I admire Mr Lydgate’s courage and his sense of honour in helping me. And naturally I cannot impose upon his good will a moment longer than is necessary.’

      ‘I mean you are in love with him,’ Jenny retorted, presuming ruthlessly on years of intimacy. She watched Katherine struggle wordlessly for a crushing phrase to contradict her. ‘I knew it, the way you look at him—or half the time don’t look. What does he feel about it?’

      ‘Nothing at all! Really, Jenny, you quite mistake the matter. Mr Lydgate’s feelings are simply those of a chivalrous gentleman attempting to help a lady in a difficult situation. Now, please, stop trying to put me to the blush.’ So Jenny had already seen something, seen it before she herself had acknowledged how she felt about Nicholas. She could only trust that no one else was so perceptive.

      They made good time, despite the rain that afternoon. The next night, as Nick helped her down from the carriage, his news released both a sigh of relief from her lips and a cold sinking in her stomach at the thought of the confrontation to come.

      ‘We have only a short drive tomorrow—an hour at most. I thought you would prefer to arrive rested and in daylight.’

      He appeared to have taken her strictures about the extravagance of the York inn to heart, for since then their stopping places had been humble, although clean and well kept. This last was no exception; it sat sturdy and ancient in a fold of the hill beyond the small town of Marlowe Beck. They had pressed on past the fine Duke’s Arms in the main square and, despite her earlier protestations about money, Katherine had watched it go with some regret. Although too well bred to utter the words, her anatomy was suffering as much as Jenny’s was from the long hours sitting, and the thought of a fine goose feather bed and a hot bath was deeply tempting.

      But thoughts of the smart inn vanished as John helped her down from the coach. The evening sun was setting behind the hills, sending long shadows over the rolling green of the fields and making dark mysteries of the endless stone walls and the occasional copse of twisted