An Earl Like No Other (24 page)

“Yes, sir, you probably can,” Phillips replied. “But did I mention that Sally Jersey is my wife's cousin?”

Mortimer stared at Phillips as though the lawyer had lost his mind. “What? Why should I have the faintest inclination to care about a relative of some woman I have never met?”

“Sally Jersey is one of the patronesses of Almack's, London's most exclusive social club. I am sure you know with what high regard it is held by the ton, particularly the women. Sally is not known by the nickname ‘Silence' because she is.”

Mortimer became very still, apparently seeing where this was going. He slowly sat back down as Phillips spelled it out for him.

“It is well known that you are trying for a superior match for your daughter. What do you think her chances of snagging a peer as her husband will be when it gets around that her father has stooped to such underhanded means to buy her a husband? Even without the likes of Sally Jersey—and London is full of them—a public trial will spell an end to Miss Mortimer's being accepted in any but the very lowest social circles.”

“This is blackmail—pure and simple,” Mortimer sputtered, his face a furious red.

“I suppose one could view it as such,” Phillips agreed blandly. “Rather akin to usury, wouldn't you say? I might suggest, also, that you try to distance yourself from the recent activities of the Duke of Wynstan.”

“Hey! I had nothing whatsoever to do with that incident.”

“Nevertheless, your name will be associated with it, if only tangentially.”

Mortimer sat in stunned silence for several moments; the muscles of his jaw worked as though he were grinding his teeth. Then he slapped his hand against his desk. “All right. I did not get where I am today by not knowing when to cut my losses. What are your terms?”

“Rather more generous than you might expect—or deserve,” Phillips said. “My client agrees to the basic principal of the debt and to the established going rate of interest for the entire life of the loan. He also agrees not to take the issue of the manner of the debt or the incident of the fire to court. Nor will he or members of his family discuss these things in any social context. The debt will remain a private matter and the fire an accident.”

“I will not stipulate to any involvement in that blasted fire,” Mortimer said.

“We are not asking you to do so,” Phillips said. “However, we shall keep the Thompsons' statement on file.”

Mortimer sighed. “All right. Draw up the revised loan papers and I'll sign them. The fewer people who know about this, the better.”

“Actually, I have them already prepared right here.” Phillips pulled them from the attaché case and laid them before Mortimer.

“Why do I not find this surprising?”

T
he sun was beginning to set when the men returned to Kenrick Hall and Kate had already set the supper hour back. She and Lady Elinor chatted in the family drawing room as they waited none too patiently. She was thinking of putting supper back again when Robert and Major Lawrence arrived, bursting with news of having solved the mystery of the fire.

“Allow us to make ourselves presentable for the company of ladies,” Robert said, “and we will tell you the whole story.”

No sooner had those two disappeared above stairs than Jeremy and Mr. Phillips appeared. After greeting Kate and his aunt, Jeremy said, “Where are Robert and the major? We saw their horses in the stable.”

“Ridding themselves of road dust,” Kate said.

“Good idea,” Jeremy said. “We'll do the same and be right back to fill you in on the adventures of the day.”

“Men!” Lady Elinor said indulgently. “You can tell they are fairly bursting at the seams with their news.”

“Yet they keep us in anxious wonder.” Kate shared her tone.

Lady Elinor emitted an exaggerated sigh. “Ours is ever the plight of long-suffering women.”

Kate rose. “I shall go and put our supper back again.”

“Kate, dear.”

“Yes?”

“Simply ring for someone.” Lady Elinor pointed in the direction of the bellpull.

“Oh. I forgot.”

In a very few minutes the men arrived in fresher clothing and obviously high spirits. Jeremy poured and handed around drinks of choice—sherry for the ladies, whiskey for the men—and they all seated themselves, eager for the reports.

“Phillips here was wonderful.” Jeremy clapped his friend on the shoulder, then sat in a comfortable barrel chair near Kate's end of the settee she shared with Lady Elinor. The others occupied chairs nearby and Jeremy proceeded to summarize the scene in Sir Eldridge's library.

“So, we truly are free of that rather weighty anchor?” Robert asked.

“Just a matter of getting a bank draft to him.”

“How did Sir Eldridge react to the news of your betrothal?” Lady Elinor asked.

Jeremy cast a questioning glance at Kate, who covered her slight confusion by sipping at her drink. “We did not speak of it directly, but his eagerness to foreclose bespoke volumes.” Again he glanced at Kate, but she refused to meet his eyes. He grimaced slightly, then took a swallow from his own glass and leaned back in his chair. “Robert, how did it go with the Thompsons?”

“Very well,” Robert said, but before explaining that cryptic reply, they had to inform the ladies of what had transpired in the Thompsons' front yard.

“You did the right thing, which in itself is not surprising, but I am proud of you—of both of you,” Lady Elinor said to her nephews.

Robert shrugged and drained his glass. “ 'Twas mostly Jeremy's doing. And I must tell you, big brother mine, you now have lifelong champions in the Thompson family. They could not sing your praises highly enough.”

“I think it was your kindness regarding their daughter that made the real difference,” Lawrence observed.

“Too bad you'll never be able to take public credit for that good deed,” Robert quipped. “Just think—you might have been St. Jeremy or maybe St. Kenrick.”

“Oh, cut line,” Jeremy said. “And remember: I promised them discretion regarding the daughter.”

The others nodded and Kate diverted the discussion by asking, “You said you stopped at the inn? Did you see Wynstan?”

“We did not
see
him,” Jeremy said, “but Mr. Finley gave us a report.”

Kate and Lady Elinor listened intently to this part of the men's day.

“So Cedric is indeed to be permanently paralyzed?” Lady Elinor asked. “How sad. He will hate—positively hate—losing his independence.”

“According to Finley, he is not adjusting well. Not yet, anyway,” Robert said.

“I cannot forgive his intentions toward my Ned,” Kate said, “but one would not wish such a fate on anyone.”

At this point, Wilkins announced that supper was being served in the dining room. The table conversation involved lighter topics and a good deal of laughter. Their late supper over, Lady Elinor announced her intention to retire early; Phillips said he had some paperwork he needed to catch up on; and Robert challenged Lawrence to a game of billiards. Jeremy and Kate reported to the nursery to bid the children good night. As they climbed the stairs, Kate was nervous, for she had not been alone with Jeremy since that kiss when he had returned after rescuing Ned and Cassie. The previous night Jeremy had bid the two children a perfunctory good night, then spent the rest of the evening closeted with Robert and their guests. She realized now that they had been planning how they would confront the Thompsons and Sir Eldridge. Kate had spent that evening reading, first to the children, then to Lady Elinor, and finally, when she'd gone to bed, to herself.

Now his hand occasionally brushed hers, sending tiny thrills through her at every touch. As he held doors to allow her to pass first, she caught a whiff of the familiar sandalwood and something else that was—well—just him, just Jeremy. This too sent a bolt of longing spiraling through her body. They passed the closed door to what had been her room in the nursery wing. She could not stop herself from glancing at him, and found him gazing at her, a warm twinkle in his eyes. She felt herself blushing and averted her gaze.

Kate had spent most of the previous day with Ned—and with Cassie, who hung around the schoolroom-playroom helping to keep him company; she had left him only for a riding lesson during which she had generously offered Lady Lobo as a companion in her stead.

Despite the welcome distraction of caring for and entertaining the injured Ned—along with frequent questions from the staff to ensure the smooth running of the household—Kate had not been able to escape incessant worry about what the future held for her and Ned. Even that constant stream of visitors had not deterred her from weighing the pros and cons of what she might do. Establishing a place of her own was now an option, but it was an option that had drawbacks. Wynstan could very well recover enough to try to make an issue of how “immoral” it would be for her to live independently, without an acceptable male protector. She was comfortable here at Kenrick Hall; more importantly, Ned was happy and thriving here. And Jeremy had not rescinded his offer of marriage; he had renewed it. And she loved him! By any objective analysis of her situation, she'd be a fool to reject him.

As Jeremy and Kate entered the main room of the nursery wing, the now fully recovered Rosie curtsied and left for her evening break. Cassie and Ned were putting a jigsaw puzzle together and eagerly welcomed the help of their parents.

“So, Ned, how is the arm today?” Jeremy asked, handing his daughter a piece of the puzzle that matched the blue sky of her section of the picture.

“It doesn't hurt so much today, but it really itches—right here.” Ned tapped the middle of his cast.

“That must be really frustrating,” Jeremy said, his serious tone treating Ned as an equal. Kate loved the fact that he never talked down to the children.

“Mm-hmm. It is.” Ned was equally serious. “I went to the stable today, but I didn't ride. When will I get to ride again?”

Ned directed the question to Jeremy, who glanced at Kate for an answer.

“Perhaps in a day or two,” she said. “But no jumping. We can't have you fall and injure the arm again.”

“Ah, Mama—”

“No jumping.”

The four of them continued to work on the puzzle together for a while, then Kate and Jeremy took turns reading to the children. Finally, when Rosie returned, they listened to bedtime prayers and kissed the children good night.

The utter domesticity of what had just happened hit Kate as she and Jeremy went down to the next floor to their own rooms. The scene had been incredibly ordinary, but beneath it was a thread of togetherness and familial love that threatened to overwhelm her.

Jeremy must have sensed her emotion, for he said quietly, “Kate? Are you all right?”

“Yes, of course.” Her tone sounded false, even to her own ears. They had reached her door. “Good night, Jeremy.”

“Oh, no.” He gripped her elbow and propelled her on down the hall and into his own room. “We need to talk.”

“I—I—Jeremy! This is highly improper.”

“And that night in the nursery wing, we were so very proper, weren't we?” he challenged with a grin, as he steered her to a couch set at an angle to face the fireplace in which a low fire glowed. A bedside lamp added more light to the room.

“That . . . that was a mistake,” she said, feeling very nervous and unsure of herself. She hoped the light was dim enough to hide her blush.

He sat next to her and put his hand on her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Was it now? It surely did not feel like a mistake to me. In fact, it felt pretty damned right to me. I think you felt that way too.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, his lips tender, searching. Without conscious volition, she responded, opening her lips to him. He lifted his mouth momentarily. “I knew it.” On that note of triumph, he reclaimed her mouth in a deep, urgent, probing kiss that left them both breathless. Her arms found their way around his neck.

He drew back slightly to whisper against her cheek, “Kate. Kate, my love. Why are you being so stubborn? There's no need for you set up a house in London. Marry me. I can protect you and Ned.”

She jerked away. “What? They
told
you? Mr. Phillips. Major Lawrence. They told you?”

“Yes. They thought I should know. We agreed that marriage to me is your best course of action. You will be safe here—both of you.”

She stood and looked down at this face she had come to love and she wanted to cry. She willed her voice to be steady. “So you three men just decided how matters should proceed between you and me?”

“Four,” he said. “Robert was there too.”

“Oh!”

Exasperated, she turned toward the door, but he was too quick for her, leaping up and enfolding her in his arms.

“Let me go.” She pushed against his chest.

“No.” He held her firmly, but gently. “Not yet. Be reasonable, Kate. As a single woman in a separate household, you would be vulnerable to further plots and legal maneuvering from Wynstan.”

She recognized this as one of her own arguments, but she was still stinging from those infernal men making major decisions about
her
life without bothering to find out what she might want or feel. “The man is likely to be a cripple,” she said.

“In body, but not in mind. He will still have a great deal of money and enormous power to achieve his ends.”

She went very still and lifted her head to hold his gaze, knowing he must feel the tremble of fear that coursed through her.

He hugged her closer. “Marry me, Kate. Together, we'll make Kenrick a veritable fortress.”

“I—are you sure?” she whispered. “Won't the scandal ruin your plans to push for reforms in Parliament?”

“That is months, maybe a year, away. By then some duchess will have run away with her coachman and people will be saying ‘Kenrick who?' and ‘Lady Arthur who?' Yes, I'm sure. Please say you are too.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, willing her eyes to ask the question uppermost in her mind. She read a sincere plea and a trace of uncertainty in his eyes.

“All right. Yes. I'll marry you.”

“Oh, thank God,” he said and drew her closer.

“But . . .” She pushed against his chest.

“
Now
what?” He sounded beleaguered.

“You said you wanted more than gratitude.”

“Am I not getting more?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Well, then . . .” He pulled her close again.

She turned her head so his lips brushed her cheek. She murmured, “I want more too.”

“More than this?” Now he sounded puzzled.

“More than protection handed down from on high. More than having my life arranged
for
me. I want to be your partner, your friend—not just your lover.”

He pulled back to hold her gaze. “
Just
my lover? Never. Kate, you are not
just
anything. You are everything to me.” He grinned sheepishly. “But maybe we men were a bit high-handed.”

Even as his lips claimed hers again, it occurred to her that he still had not said the magic
love
word. Nevertheless, she reveled in the fact that he cared for her and desired her. Perhaps she had love enough for both of them.

She stored this thought away and gave herself up to the sheer bliss of his touch as his hands caressed the length of her back, pulling her even closer. Despite their several layers of clothing, she felt a familiar hardness thrust against her belly. Brazenly, she slipped her hand between them and stroked that rigid flesh straining against his trousers.

He gasped in pleasure and whispered, “We are vastly overdressed for this, my love.”

“I quite agree,” she murmured as she eagerly allowed him to lead her toward the bed.

There was some confusion, soft laughter, and giggles of frustration as they hastily tried to divest themselves of their clothing.

“Do you need help?” he asked. Having already removed his own boots and his shirt, he watched as she carefully removed her dress, then sat on the edge of the bed to roll a stocking down one leg.

“Need? No. Housekeepers have to manage their own clothing. But would I welcome help? Oh, yes.”

He knelt before her and slowly finished removing the stocking she had been working on, caressing her thigh, the calf, and then her foot.

She giggled. “I'm ticklish.”

“That's good to know—for future reference.”

He started on the other leg, his fingers caressing, teasing the soft flesh above the top of her stocking, then probing higher.