A Passionate Endeavor (18 page)

“I confess to reading ahead a few pages, Miss
Kittridge,” he said, staring at his brother.

Her heart swelled with vicarious pride.

“What? You dare to tell falsehoods with a
vicar in the room, Brother? You go too far,” said Lord Edwin,
slapping his napkin down at the side of his plate. “We all know you
cannot read. You are an ignorant.”

A chorus of shocked sounds filled the
room.

“Perhaps, I am,” Lord Huntington said, his
face like granite. “But that is not to the point. What is relevant
is that no revelry should occur until our good father has recovered
his health.”

Charlotte shivered. He’d sounded as if he
were addressing soldiers under his command. She did not doubt the
troops in the 95th Rifleman would have instantly obeyed and
respected such a man.

“However, Edwin, fear not, you will not have
me to force you to attend to social strictures much longer. I have
promised Father I would stay only as long as is necessary for his
peace of mind. I have had a letter from headquarters requiring me
in Paris as soon as it is convenient.”

Charlotte could keep silent no longer. “But,
you have not recovered.…”

Her heart lurched when she encountered his
piercing gaze. He had turned into the battle-hardened warrior.

“I thank you for your observation, Miss
Kittridge. I assure you that I will be capable of resuming whatever
position Wellington’s coattails assign me. So far, I am sure there
is nothing to do but attend every sort of military parade and
social gaiety given in the Ambassador’s honor.” He smiled at his
brother. “Actually, I do believe you would enjoy it.”

Lord Huntington turned to his stepmother. “It
is time for a glass of something a bit more fortifying than this
wine, is it not,
Your Grace
?”

The duchess jumped up from the table. With
glacial cordiality she invited the ladies to withdraw to the salon.
Lord Edwin looked very much as if he would like to follow them.

The ladies were reduced to fortifying
themselves with coffee. Charlotte wished she could hear whatever
the gentlemen were discussing behind the august doors of the former
room, whose servants were no doubt longing to decamp the dining
hall to tell their colleagues below stairs the story of how Lord
Huntington had finally taken his brother to task.

Charlotte took the exquisite porcelain cup
and saucer from the cold hands of the duchess and walked to the
distant window alcove. She was exhausted by the events of the
evening. But her hopes of a moment of tranquility evaporated with
the appearance of Louisa Nichols before her.

“Was it not brilliant?” Miss Nichols asked,
giggling.

“To what do you refer?”

“Why to the most excellent set down by Lord
Huntington.”

Charlotte had no desire to hear this lady’s
gossip, but did not know how to extricate herself.

“You know,” Miss Nichols continued, lowering
her voice, “I was witness to this family’s machinations for many
years. Each time I came on holiday, I watched as he was taunted by
cruel remarks regarding his inability to learn. He never said a
word to defend himself, although it was quite obvious how it
tortured him. And Rosamunde was never allowed to defend him either.
Lord Huntington forbade her after the duchess punished Rosamunde
once for ‘interfering. — Louisa ran out of steam and recollected
herself all at the same moment. She appeared discomfited to have
revealed her private remembrances.

“What are you two talking about?” asked Lady
Susan, her familiar tinkling laugh signaling her approach. “I must
take part in your conversation. I cannot stand another moment with
the old biddies. The dowager duchess is about to make my
grandmother expire in a fit of the vapors.”

Louisa giggled. “I think I just heard the
dowager infer that Lady Elitrope was a harridan looking to play the
trollop!”

Lady Susan sniffed. “I cannot fathom why
those two old ladies cannot act with more propriety. It is utterly
Beyond the Pale. I would never act in such a fashion.”

“Oh, no, Susan. You would
never
flirt,” Louisa said.

“I take great offence, Louisa. You must
explain yourself,” Lady Susan replied in a high-pitched voice.

“Why, I mean your behavior toward Viscount
Gaston, of course. Do you think we are blind to your fawning
ways?”

“He is quite magnificent,
n’est-ce
pas
?” said Lady Susan in the worst French accent Charlotte had
ever heard. “But you have all been entranced too.”

“I do believe you are going to have to
practice your irregular verb conjugation and your accent before
making your conquest,” replied Louisa.

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy? You seem to
be always underfoot whenever we converse.”

“Just trying to help you follow the rules of
chaperonage that your mother, with her merchant background, might
not have taught you,” Louisa said, looking furious. “Besides, I
thought you were here to snare Lord Edwin. Although the heir seems
to have captured your fancy ever since he arrived.”

“How dare you!” Lady Susan did not look
nearly as embarrassed as she should. “Honestly, this place is as
boring as two sticks. Mayn’t I have a bit of fun before tying
myself to a Man who Dislikes Frivolity? I am being forced to
consider a life devoid of all gaiety in a future marriage to the
heir.”

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed.

“The viscount is marvelous, is he not?” Lady
Susan continued her ebullient quest to reveal all. “He has such
bearing and presence and, of course, wit. Did you not notice the
way his shoulders are molded by the cut of his coat, and the way he
fills out his, well,
his unmentionables
?”

With that, Louisa Nichols almost spilled her
coffee. But Lady Susan was not ready to relieve her conspiratorial
role. She gathered her listeners and continued in a whisper. “I
have it on the greatest authority that he is the sort of man who
could make a lady want to experience the Obligations of a
Wife.”

“Lady Susan!” Charlotte said in hushed
horror.

“And… ?” Louisa’s curiosity was not to be
disappointed. “There must be more.” The group gathered tighter
together. Charlotte was swept along in the shock of it.

“And, my French maid told me all about it,”
said Susan, whispering. “She said that the viscount performs in
such an exemplary fashion in Matters of the Bedchamber, that it
would be well worth taking him as an immediate lover after my
marriage to Lord Huntington.”

“Lady Susan, I insist—” began Charlotte.

“Oh, hush,” Lady Susan said, ignoring
Charlotte. “I just wish I could first experience the Pleasures of
the Flesh by the viscount on my wedding night.”

Charlotte turned in time to see Louisa’s
shocked expression.

“Actually, it is a difficult decision—trying
to decide if becoming a duchess is worth tying myself to an
ignorant sober-sides or settling for being a gay viscountess in all
respects. If I decide on the former, you, dear Louisa, must promise
to come to every house party I form. I daresay I will have to have
at least one every fortnight if I hope to partake in a modicum of
fun,” she said with a tinkling laugh.

“You will, of course, excuse me, Susan, for
saying that not only is your proposal alarming, but it is an
impossibility,” Louisa said with a satisfied smile. “I can assure
you that Lord Huntington has no intention ever to marry anyone.
Even a lady of many charms such as yours could not sway him from
his decision made years ago. In short, he shall not have you.”

What?! Could Louisa’s words have an ounce of
truth?
He had promised not to marry any lady
? Not just
Charlotte? Not that it mattered. He had told his father that he
would never choose her for a wife. He had promised his father. But
for some perverse reason, she could at least take comfort in the
idea that she would not have to witness his marriage to
another.

“Oh, phooey, Louisa. You just want the title
for yourself. No heir to a dukedom takes a vow such as the one you
have described,” Lady Susan said.

“Perhaps you should consider more the idea of
a marriage with the viscount. Surely he can provide your inflamed
desires with an additional measure or two of persuasion to shake
you from your original designs on the heir. If not, I am afraid you
will have to be satisfied living vicariously through your
maid.”

“Yes, well, it is too bad the younger brother
could not switch places with the elder. At least I could be assured
a steady stream of entertainments with that gentleman in his sire’s
seat—although no one could possibly be as charming as your cousin,
Miss Kittridge,” she said with a pitiful sigh.

Charlotte felt the cold anger that had been
flowing through her veins move to the very tips of her fingers. She
curled her hands in rage. If this was not the most embarrassing
conversation she had ever heard, it was certainly the most absurd.
If this was what young ladies discussed, she had her doubts as to
whether she would continue to cultivate any friendships save
Rosamunde’s. “Perhaps you could measure the three gentlemen’s
physical attributes and ask for a formal examination of their
formidable wits before choosing a life’s partner. But if expensive
amusements are your primary concern, then I would go with Lord
Edwin. He has far more to offer.”

She could tell by her expression that Lady
Susan’s pea-sized brain could not discern if Charlotte’s words were
said in jest or in seriousness. In her mind it was all Too
Complicated.

“
One has got all the goodness, and the
other all the appearance of it
.”

—Pride and Prejudice

THE next morning, Nicholas exited the arched
doorway of the abbey, forcing himself not to limp. His leg only
cramped a little now as he walked down the stone stairs toward the
stables.

He had just had a satisfying meeting with
Owen Roberts, who had agreed to oversee the building of a large
kiln for Miss Kittridge’s clay figures. He had also informed Owen
of his decision to place it all—the brewery, the kiln, and the
farmlands—in Owen’s capable hands. He was a man whose honesty and
integrity could be counted on without question. Nicholas was at the
point of wondering if there would be enough land to start a better
flock of sheep when he heard a voice call out to him.

“May I have a word with you, my lord?” James
Kittridge asked.

“Of course.” They walked into the stables,
and Nicholas stopped in front of Phoenix’s stall to check the
remarkable recovery of the horse. “I am going for a ride beyond the
valley to look at progress on some land. Would you care to join
me?” Nicholas knew full well that Kittridge would accept with
alacrity the chance to try one of Wyndhurst’s superior hunters.

“Why yes, my lord. I would be honored!”

After feeling Phoenix’s legs and looking into
her eyes, Nicholas arranged for a second horse to be saddled. Once
they were both mounted on feisty geldings, Nicholas proposed a good
gallop before anything else and was met with a broad grin that
nearly split the younger man’s face in two.

As they reached the valley’s roiling spring,
and turned to follow it upstream at a more sedate pace, James
Kittridge spoke. “First, I must apologize for the discussion last
night,” he began. “I would never have continued that miserable
subject of reading had I known of your, of your… “ He had turned
beet-red, and Nicholas relieved him of his misery as they road side
by side.

“There is no need to feel any embarrassment.
I accepted my deficiencies long ago. While I might prefer to have
them remain unknown to others, I have finally learned not to fear
the unveiling of any truths.”

“I shall have to remember that as a seed for
a future sermon,” he said.

Nicholas threw back his head and chuckled.
“Sermon-making does not appear to be a task you will take up with
any real zeal.”

Kittridge snorted. “You have the right of it.
I think everyone is aware that I would prefer the military. In
fact, I want to be just like you—a decorated officer in the 95th
Rifleman. But I shall not disappoint my father.”

“You and I are alike in many ways…”

For a few moments, neither said another word.
Nicholas was glad that Kittridge did not choose to pry the meaning
of his words from him.

“You mentioned that you wanted to discuss
something— was it just about last evening?” asked Nicholas. “No,”
Kittridge said, and paused. “There was something more… It is about
my sister.”

“Yes?”

“She is very kindhearted, and practical, and
of course very intelligent…”

“I agree.” Nicholas wondered where this was
all leading. “Well, sir, I would not want to see her hurt. She
might appear very strong, but after all, she is a female, and has
had her emotions toyed with in the past. And I, and of course my
father, would not want to witness a reoccurrence.”

Nicholas stopped his horse, forcing young
Kittridge to do the same. “Do I understand you? Is she in
expectation of a proposal of marriage from me?”

Kittridge flinched. “No. It is rather that
you might not know her as I do. And I feel I must warn you,” he
said, before continuing in a rush. “She is quite delighted by
your family’s
gift of the dress. And, well, you see, I saw
you both returning after the rain shower.”

Nicholas closed his eyes for a few moments
and shook his head. “She said nothing to you on the occasion?”

“No,” he replied. “Well, actually she
reprimanded me and told me to go to the devil… Well, not exactly in
those words. But that was the gist of it.”

“While you do not know me well, I can assure
you I have no intention of ruining your sister. She has been of
immense help to me. I would not hurt her,” he said, then urged his
horse forward again. He looked over his shoulder toward Miss
Kittridge’s brother. “I would look no further than the viscount, if
you desire a proposal of marriage. He seems to have captured more
hearts than the post on St. Valentine’s Day. A veritable Romeo
Shakespeare would approve of. Is he not here to woo her?”