Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1. Louise Allen

Jenny stared, horrified. ‘What did he say?’

      ‘He behaved as though we had met in the middle of the morning and I was fully dressed. Goodness knows what he must think of me, not that it could be much worse than what he doubtless thinks already.’ She put down the cup and cupped her chin in her hand, gazing blankly across the room.

      ‘But he is so polite to you,’ Jenny pointed out.

      ‘It is part of his style to be imperturbable, I think. And very courteous. And I suppose he does not care to show me the door after learning that I had saved Nick from hanging.’ The two regarded each other miserably, then Katherine shook herself, got to her feet and announced, ‘Ring for hot water, Jenny. I am going to get dressed, be on my best behaviour—and do my utmost to make Nick see reason today.’

      There was a peremptory knock on the door. ‘Please see who that is, Jenny.’

      The voice made it quite clear. Jenny pushed the door to. ‘Lord Seaton, Miss Katherine.’

      ‘Please tell his lordship,’ she said, making sure her voice carried clearly, ‘that I will see him at breakfast.’

      ‘Yes, Miss Katherine. My lord …’

      ‘I heard, thank you.’ Nick sounded furious. Katherine suddenly found the humour in the situation. He must have imagined her lost goodness knows where in this great pile and had set out to rescue her. Unfortunately for him, she did not need rescuing.

      Katherine made a leisurely toilette, paying particular attention to her hair and her choice of a gown. She felt she should spare the Duke any further shocks to his system that morning. She also felt, but would not admit to herself, that looking as elegant as possible would disconcert Nick.

      His Grace was just entering the breakfast room as she approached the door and his two sons were already there, engaged in what sounded like a vigorous argument. ‘If you do not tell him, I will,’ Nick was saying.

      ‘Good morning. Ah, Katherine, good morning my dear. Will you not sit here, and perhaps be so good as to take charge of the coffee pot? And who, might I ask, is the person apparently being kept in the dark?’

      Robert shot a darkling look at his brother and said, ‘I had something I wished to discuss with you, sir, but it can wait. Should wait.’

      Nick sat back in his chair. ‘Robert desires to tell you, Father, that he wishes to read for the church, but he perceives that my own domestic … difficulties might create too much of a stir to raise the matter at present.’

      ‘Damn it, Nick! I am sorry, Katherine. Yes, Father, I would wish to enter the church, but this hardly seems the moment.’

      ‘I cannot say I am surprised.’ The Duke smiled at Katherine, who was handing him a cup of coffee. ‘What do you think, my dear?’

      Startled to be asked her opinion, she said honestly, ‘I believe Lord Robert would go far in the church, your Grace.’

      ‘You had better speak to the Bishop, Robert.’ The look he sent his younger son held, to Katherine’s hopeful eye, a faint hint of approval. ‘We will talk about it later.’ He swivelled to look at Nick. ‘And what are your plans?’

      ‘For today? To speak to Wilkinson to establish exactly how my affairs stand and then to ride over to the Dower House with Katherine to discover if it meets with her approval.’

      ‘You are set on that as a residence, then?’

      ‘With your permission, sir.’

      The duke gestured with an elegantly long-fingered hand. ‘It is at your disposal. As you know, it always reverts to the heir when it is not required by the dowager of the day.’

      Katherine tried to catch Nick’s eye. Had he forgotten that she had told him she could not ride? She had no habit either.

      ‘Philpott.’

      The footman went to Nick’s side, received a low-voiced instruction and went out. Katherine mused for a moment on the resources that could muster so many footmen, all over the desirable six foot in height, then decided that the thought of so much money made her dizzy.

      She found her husband was looking at her and mouthed, ‘I cannot ride.’ He merely smiled and mouthed back, ‘Time you learned.’ Katherine picked thoughtfully at her ham, not at all certain she wanted to be any closer to a horse than the interior of a carriage. They were large and she suspected she would be quite unable to convince one to do anything she wanted. Then she realised she had no riding habit, there were no other ladies in the house to borrow one from, and so she was safe. A small smile curled her lips; his lordship had not considered that little detail.

      She poured more coffee, found she had an appetite for her breakfast after all and decided to slip away afterwards to a sunny window seat in the Long Gallery, which had the double advantage of being somewhere she could find her way to, and removing her from her husband’s disturbing proximity so she could try and think what to do when she had left Seaton Mandeville.

      But when Nick rose, he stopped beside her chair. ‘Have you finished?’

      ‘Yes, thank you, but please do not trouble about me, I will be perfectly all right.’

      ‘But we must talk to Mr Wilkinson,’ Nick said, still waiting.

      Kat bit her lip and regarded him cautiously. Why should he want her to meet Mr Wilkinson, who, if she remembered, was his grace’s Steward and man of business? She studied his face for signs of the anger she had heard in his voice earlier, but he appeared quite sanguine. One could not, of course, make a fuss with the Duke within earshot, calmly eating his toast.

      She stood up, smiling at the two men who rose courteously, and allowed Nick to usher her out.

      ‘Why do I need to speak to Mr Wilkinson?’ she hissed as they made their way along yet another corridor, this one panelled in handsome oak wainscoting. There were too many servants about to allow for a proper, blazing, argument, which is what she was longing for.

      ‘Because he has information you will wish to hear.’ Nick paused before a door and opened it. ‘Wilkinson, good morning. My dear, may I introduce Mr Tobias Wilkinson, who has been our steward and much else here for many years. Wilkinson, the new marchioness of Seaton.’

      The steward was tall, thin, slightly stooping and of indeterminate age. Sixty, Katherine guessed, liking the quiet humour in his eyes and the genuineness of his smile as he shook hands.

      ‘Many felicitations, my lord! And, Lady Seaton, may I wish you every happiness in your new estate.’

      Katherine responded appropriately and sat where Nick showed her, prepared for a boring wait while he discussed business.

      ‘I have summarised how your affairs stand, my lord.’ Wilkinson passed over two sheets of foolscap and folded his hands together on the table while Nick read.

      Katherine watched as Nick’s eyebrows rose and his lips pursed in a soundless whistle. ‘You have done well by me these past years, Tobias, I can only thank you for your care and diligence.’

      The other man smiled modestly. ‘If I may say so, my lord, achieving a good return on investment is always easier if the principal is not in a position to spend the capital.’

      Nick gave a snort of laughter. ‘Not spending it on gambling, women and racehorses, I assume you mean? No, do not answer that. We will talk over detail later. Meanwhile, have you been able to deal with that other matter?’

      ‘Yes, my lord, I have sent details of the loan to our London agent with instructions to pay both the principal and the interest in full.’

      That was her debt paid; Katherine tried to catch Nick’s eye, but he was attending to the steward. How did she feel about it? Part of her was distressed and embarrassed that Nick had been put in a position where he felt he must pay it, part was relieved that the interest was no longer accumulating. Now all she had to do was to convince Nick that she should repay him. Not an