Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1. Louise Allen

date. His first wife? Yes, it must be, for here he was again standing behind a different, seated, lady with a baby on her lap and a small boy by her knee.

      The child must be Nick. Smiling, she stepped closer to study it.

      ‘A pretty group, that,’ a voice said dispassionately behind her. She jumped. ‘I am sorry, my dear, I had no intention of startling you.’

      Katherine turned hastily. ‘Your Grace. I was quite absorbed by the portraits.’

      ‘Have both my sons abandoned you?’

      ‘Nicholas is with your estate manager. Lord Robert left a few minutes ago because of an urgent message from the stables. Something about the farrier and your bay hunter, your Grace.’

      ‘Indeed? In my young day it would take rather more than a horse to distract me from a charming young lady.’

      Katherine’s lips twitched. She was beginning to take the measure of the formidable old man. ‘I believe it was the thought of your displeasure rather than the needs of the horse that animated Lord Robert.’

      ‘That is as it should be,’ the Duke remarked gravely. ‘I see it falls to me to exhibit the rest of the collection, unless you are bored with an unending succession of Lydgates?’

      ‘No, your Grace. I find it fascinating.’

      ‘Then let us see if we can find any other depictions of your husband. Ah, yes, rather over-dramatic, perhaps.’

      He had stopped in front of a full-length study of a rearing horse against a stormy sky. Holding its reins, his attention fixed on the animal as it fought for its freedom, was a young man, hardly more than a youth. ‘Two wild animals,’ Katherine said without thinking.

      ‘And each as stubborn as the other,’ the Duke agreed. ‘Nicholas’s temper was as free as that stallion’s in those days. He appears to have governed it now.’ It was a question.

      ‘I would say he has quite remarkable self-control,’ Katherine said as judiciously as she could. ‘And remarkable courage. To see him in prison, bearing those dreadful conditions and the certainty of death with such dignity and even humour—that was very impressive.’

      The old man said nothing, but Katherine sensed his pleasure. He was not going to admit to his pride in his son, had still not forgiven him, but that pride ran deep and to hear it justified could only gratify him.

      All he said was, ‘Nicholas has told me nothing about the conditions in the prison except that he was amazed that, having seen him, you still consented to marry him.’

      Katherine chuckled. ‘Well, your Grace, I was desperate. He was filthy, bearded, his hair in rats’ tails and as for the prison smell … But there was something, I am not sure what, something in his eyes that made me feel safe. And his wrists were raw under the shackles.’ She broke off, suddenly finding herself emotional and appalled to be revealing so much of her feelings. She swallowed and said lightly, ‘I sent him soap.’

      The Duke laughed, apparently genuinely amused. ‘An admirably practical thing to do. Now, come and see this glass case in the window. There is an excellent series of miniatures that you may like.’

      Katherine allowed herself to be drawn into the deep bay formed by an oriole window and they bent over a glass-topped table that contained a dozen or so exquisite miniatures. As she was studying them, there was the sound of doors opening and voices from either end of the Long Gallery.

      ‘Robert! Where’s Katherine?’

      ‘I left her here. I had to go down to the stables.’

      ‘For goodness’ sake, if she has wandered off she will be lost in this maze of a house—we’ll have to turn all the footmen out to look for her.’

      The voices were coming closer as the brothers converged on the centre of the Gallery. ‘I am sure if she is lost she will simply ring the nearest bell,’ Robert said placatingly.

      ‘Fortunately Katherine has not been put to that expedient,’ the Duke remarked drily, emerging from the embrasure, his hand firmly under Katherine’s elbow. ‘Come along, my dear, I will show you the way back to the main hall so you can get your bearings.’ A clock struck and he added, ‘Doubtless your woman will be waiting to help you change for dinner.’ He regarded his two sons as he passed. ‘We have been having a comfortable cose,’ he remarked blandly. ‘Such a pleasure for an old man.’

      He shut the door behind them and caught Katherine’s eye. ‘You wish to say something, my dear?’

      ‘Only that I think neither of your sons regards you as “old,” your Grace.’ She saw the glint in his eye and added daringly, ‘I think you enjoy teasing them.’

      ‘It is a relief to have two of them to tease,’ he said. ‘Not that you will repeat that to them, I trust.’

      ‘No, of course not,’ she assured him as they parted company at the foot of the main stairs.

      What was it that Nick had said so lightly when she had asked him why he wanted a month to elapse before the marriage was annulled? To allow the charms of my family to grow upon you, perhaps. She had liked Robert on sight, now she found herself unexpectedly liking the formidable Duke himself.

      In fact, she suspected that after a few weeks she could well find herself very fond of both of them. Which was no reason not to annul the marriage; in fact, liking them, she felt more than ever that she must not impose upon them.

      In her room Jenny was ready waiting with hot water and hair brushes, the best of Katherine’s limited choice of evening gowns laid out on the bed. Light was fading over the park and, as Katherine washed, the maid went round the room closing the heavy blue curtains across the windows.

      With the outside world shut out, she looked closely at the bedchamber for the first time and shivered. The room seemed glacial to her eyes, used as she was to a bedchamber as a sanctuary, a warm retreat where she could create a feminine, private world.

      The walls were lined with ice blue watered silk, the polished boards were largely obscured by a vast Chinese rug in shades of blue and ivory and the high ceiling and plasterwork seemed to enclose her like the sugarwork on an elaborate cake. Even the bed did not offer much promise of comfort. It was so high she would need a footstool to get into it, the covers were a mass of white lace and the hangings more chilly blue silk.

      The pictures played their part in her discomfort—a full-length portrait of an exquisite young lady in a lavish gown and marvellous parure of diamonds regarded her with disdain and, on another wall, a classical scene showed maidens being dragged to a sacrificial altar.

      Jenny followed her mistress’s gaze and pulled a face. ‘Nice thing to have in a bedchamber, I don’t think! Enough to give a body nightmares. Here’s your pearl ear-bobs, Miss Katherine.’

      Katherine hooked them into her lobes with the sinking feeling that she was the maiden on the way to a sacrifice. The prospect of the meal filled her with dread. She would be surrounded by servants who, if they did not know it already, would soon be aware of the strange nature of the Marquis’s marriage.

      Luncheon had been an ordeal, how much worse was a formal dinner going to be? She would have to make polite and appropriate conversation with three men, two of whom she hardly knew and one of whom she loved and could not have. And, to crown it all, she must hope that with her limited experience she did not commit some breach of etiquette in this ducal household and embarrass both herself and Nicholas.

      But it was none of those things that made her want to order Jenny to throw everything into their portmanteaux, to send for John to harness the team and to flee back to the shabby comfort of last night’s inn. A creeping unease was coming into her heart, a feeling that she was out of her depth already and into a situation where she had no control. Whatever happened she was going to be hurt, she knew that, but now it was no longer just herself and Nick involved.

      The men were gathered in what Heron informed her was, ‘The Chinese Salon, your