Her face immediately clouded. “I thought you intended to return to Hampshire. Surely you said you wished to do so?”
“Yes, I do. And I would have gone soon had you refused me, but you have accepted and every bride deserves a honeymoon. Should you not like it?”
“Yes, I should, very much. But you would miss the spring planting if we went now, and you said you were eager to be home for that.”
“True.”
“And I must admit I am curious about my new home and eager to meet Pamela. Besides, you said that spring in Hampshire is more beautiful than anywhere else.”
“Also true, but I am biased. Well, there is a simple enough solution. We shall repair to Rudley Court after the ceremony and postpone the wedding trip to another time, perhaps the winter, when a warmer clime and sunny skies will be most appealing.”
* * * *
Less than an hour after the earl left Katherine, one of the Brent footmen brought her a letter just arrived with the morning post. She regarded it with interest, for it was directed in the unmistakable hand of her stepfather. She knew he disliked correspondence and, indeed, had heard nothing from him since her precipitate departure several months earlier.
She broke the seal and spread the single sheet.
Briarwood Place
LincolnshireKatherine,
No doubt it will surprise you to hear from me, yet I was obliged to write when I heard (one of my acquaintance having got the news from one of Lord Harrington’s footmen) of your recent engagement. I must say, girl, that you have shown me to be wrong. I never thought you had it in you to land a fish the weight of Rudley. For all they say his pockets are deep, his manners cannot be so grand, for I had no proper request for your hand—neither in person nor through the post. I know you will say you are of age, but custom would require the man speak with me all the same. In any case, you have done well for yourself and should want for nothing. I, on the other hand, having not your good fortune, find myself short at the moment and would appreciate whatever you could spare me. If you find yourself unable to accommodate me, perhaps I should take the time to come and visit your betrothed, a discussion of marriage settlements not being out of the question.
Your stepfather, Sir Humphrey Corey
Katherine folded the sheet with a sigh. She knew Sir Humphrey had few friends in London and had hoped he would not learn of her wedding until after it had taken place. She certainly did not need to read between the lines to understand his thinly veiled threat. She drew a sheet of writing paper from Lady Brent’s secretaire and folded it, carefully enclosing a five-pound note.
She could not bear the thought of Rudley asking Sir Humphrey for her hand. The very idea was ludicrous. She tried to imagine Sir Humphrey at her wedding, paying lavish, unwelcome compliments to all the ladies, then regaling them with slightly off-color stories, drinking too much—how he loved free wine—and talking too loudly. She carefully opened the sheet and added another five pounds before refolding it and applying the sealing wax. It was little enough to keep Sir Humphrey out of London and far away from her wedding ceremony.
Lady Finley promised her brother she would help with his wedding plans, but the result of their combined efforts exceeded even her expectations. No one attending would have imagined such a fine and well-managed affair had been arranged in a mere forty days. Every detail, from the magnificent flowers to the delectable food, had been seen to personally by her ladyship. Only the best would do for her brother’s wedding; she accepted nothing less. The number of guests was small—just over one hundred—and this fact alone made Lady Finley’s job considerably easier. The earl had insisted on inviting only family and intimate friends. His first wedding had been one of the major social events of the Season; he intended for this ceremony to be quite different.
During the weeks preceding the wedding, Rudley was neither unaware nor unappreciative of his sister’s efforts on his behalf. “Katherine told me you called on her yesterday, Meg, to take her shopping.”
“Yes, of course,” his sister replied. “I suggested Madame Boutou to make Katherine’s gowns. She will need to take on extra help to do so much so quickly, but the result, I assure you, will be unexceptionable.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he agreed. “I am obliged to you for taking the time to advise her.”
“My dear Ned, as much as I care for Sophia Brent, you cannot think I would allow her to help Katherine choose the fabric and pattern for a wedding gown! You know I do not entirely approve of this hasty marriage, but if you
will
be married now, then your bride must be dressed in the finest London can offer.”
The wedding ceremony itself progressed without incident; Oliver supported his brother as groomsman while Charity attended Katherine. Katherine’s fear that someone would connect her with Sir Humphrey was never realized. She had been determined to tell Rudley about her stepfather, but the opportunity never presented itself. In the weeks preceding the wedding she seldom found herself alone with him, and when she did, she found she could not bring herself to mention Sir Humphrey.
Just two days before the wedding Katherine had received a letter from Miss Westleigh at Serena’s school. She regretted that Serena had taken to her bed with a mild stomach complaint; regretfully, she would be unable to make the trip south. At first disappointed by this turn of events, Katherine decided that perhaps it was for the best. She would have found it difficult to explain to her sister why she had not discussed their stepfather with her future husband.
As Lady Finley had promised, Katherine’s gown was stunning. Crepe over ivory satin, it was high at the neck with long, full sleeves and buttoned cuffs. The bodice and full skirt were lavishly trimmed with lace and seed pearls. A veil of fragile gauze fell from a tiara of diamonds and pearls set skillfully into Katherine’s elaborately braided hair.
The earl, always a meticulous dresser, was more splendid than usual and those few who knew him best noticed a subtle light in his eyes that kindled when he first saw his bride and lasted throughout the day.
“He has made an excellent choice, Meg,” Oliver said as he joined his sister in a glass of champagne. He watched Rudley and Katherine across the room where they stood speaking with Charity and Mr. Everett.
“I hope you may be right, Oliver. If he would only take time to consider. I cannot help but remember the haste of his first marriage and the tragedy—”
Oliver interrupted her. “Katherine is nothing like Arabella. She is a sensible woman, mature. She will make the best possible wife for Ned.”
“Yes, perhaps, but does she love him? And, even more important, can she make him happy?”
“Ned seems to think so. And you and I, dear sister, will pray he is right.”
* * * *
Several hours later, when the newly married couple had left their guests behind and begun their journey south, Katherine found herself alone with her thoughts for the first time in many days. Her schedule had been so busy, so crammed with preparation that she had simply allowed herself to be swept along. As the spring countryside on the outskirts of London rolled by her window, she took time to reflect on the enormity of what she had done.
In the weeks before the wedding she had no doubts at all. It was only during the service, when she was making her vows, that the reality struck her. She had known Lord Parnaby for years, had thought for several of those years that she would be his wife. Now, in a few short weeks, she had tossed that dream to the wind and accepted Lord Rudley instead. A sickening doubt overcame her as she realized she had promised the remainder of her life to a man she had not known long—did not know well. She did not even know him well enough to know if he intended to keep the vows he had made to her. It was, after all, not uncommon for married men to have mistresses. Clearly, for many of them, their marriage vows were meaningless.
“You are very quiet,” Rudley said, interrupting her thoughts. “Are you tired?”
“No. I was thinking how unprepared I was for the ceremony. I had no idea how solemn . . . how profound it would be to take an oath before God . . . before all those people. It is almost frightening to think how permanent, how final it is.”
“Are you feeling regret that you married me?”
“No. Not regret, more like . . . more like fear.”
“Fear of what?”
“Of the things I do not know—the
many
things I do not know about you.”
“Why must these be things to fear?’’
“They need not be, of course,” she agreed. “No doubt I am being silly.”
“Not in the least. Don’t you know I have the same insecurities you have? None of us can ever be certain that the decisions we make are the proper ones, that the road we choose is best. We do as well as we can and must be satisfied with that.”
Emboldened by this confidence, Katherine asked, “Did you truly mean the vows you spoke to me today?” He drew breath to speak, but she continued quickly. “Do you feel that a marriage should be as the church decrees, a union of two, with mutual honor and respect . . . and faithfulness?’’
“I meant—literally—every word I spoke to you today,” he affirmed. “I believe that the best, the truest marriage, is the one we vowed today to make.”
“But your first marriage,” she said. “You intended it to last a lifetime.”
“Yes, I did. And I was faithful to Arabella until she broke faith with me. She lied to me, deceived me, and in the process destroyed the love I had for her. A marriage must be held sacred by both partners, Katherine; one cannot do it alone.”
Succumbing to a fatigue she had earlier denied, Katherine rested her head against Rudley’s shoulder. Weary from weeks of preparation and the wedding day itself, she soon slept and woke only when the coach slowed to make the turn onto the drive leading to Rudley Court.
“Where are we, my lord?” she asked.
“We have arrived at Rudley Court. It has grown dark, but there is nearly a full moon and you can see the lake.”
Hearing the warmth in his voice, Katherine knew he was happy to be home and she was relieved. She had feared that the events that had driven him away had given him a permanent dislike of the place.
She looked where he directed. The road skirted the side of a gently sloping hill; below them to the left was the lake. In the calm night air the smooth surface of the water reflected the moon in a silvery glow. She could see the outline of a bridge ahead, silhouetted against the gray sky.
“The bridge spans the stream that feeds the lake,” Rudley said, “When my great-grandfather came into the title, he had the stream dammed to form the lake. He was an avid fisherman and knew no greater joy than having his own well-stocked fishing haven no more than a stone’s throw from the door.”
The horses’ hooves clattered over the bridge, and the house soon appeared on the right, a large imposing façade. As the coach drew up, the great front doors were thrown open and yellow light streamed out onto the wide stone steps and spilled into the graveled drive.
Not waiting for the footman, Rudley leaped down from the coach, offering Katherine his hand. She stepped down carefully, stiff from the long drive.
“Welcome to Rudley Court, Katherine,” he said quietly. “May you always be happy here.”
She smiled warmly at him. “I am sure I shall be, my lord.”
“Come then,” he said. “My household will be eagerly waiting to meet their new mistress.”
Indeed, there was a long line of his lordship’s retainers awaiting them in the hall. They were greeted first by his secretary, Mr. Kendall, then by his butler, his housekeeper, his daughter’s governess, his nephew’s nurse, and so on down to the lowliest kitchen maid who blushed as she curtsied to her new mistress.
Unprepared for the size of Rudley’s household staff, Katherine was overcome by this welcome, but she hid her surprise well, greeting each of the servants in turn and accepting their congratulations and welcome.
“I was expecting to see Lady Pamela and Master Nicholas,” Katherine said when she noticed the children were not present.
Miss Shaw, Lady Pamela’s governess, stepped forward. “Excuse me, my lady, Master Nicholas is visiting with his mother’s family in Sussex, and Lady Pamela has a bad cold and has stayed in her room. She was most anxious to see you both tonight to welcome you home, but I explained to her that you would perhaps be fatigued after your journey.”
Katherine turned to her husband. “I would like to meet Lady Pamela tonight.”
“Very well,” he said, “we will look in on her as soon as we have changed.”
Instructing his butler to have dinner served in one hour, Rudley gave Katherine his arm and together they ascended the massive oak staircase that rose from the center of the hall and divided into halves, one half serving each wing of the rambling Tudor building. They followed the branch to the right and walked some distance along the corridor.
“The original building ended here,” Rudley said. “My grandfather added the part we are now entering. I have always loved this house. I hope you will find it comfortable.”
He finally stopped at a door to the left of the passageway. “These are your rooms. The baggage coach preceded us by several hours, so most of your trunks should be unpacked by now. If you need anything you have only to ask the housekeeper, Mrs. Windom.”
He opened the door and they entered the large bedchamber together. “These were once my mother’s apartments—and later Arabella’s,” he said. “Arabella had them done in blue, which she felt suited her complexion. I had them redone after her death, and you see them now much as they were in my mother’s time. You are, of course, free to change anything you like to suit yourself. If you see any pieces about the house that you admire, simply inform Reeves and he will have them carried here.”
They had advanced to the middle of the room and Katherine looked about in admiration. Walls of pale yellow harmonized with window and bed hangings of deep gold. The furnishings were tasteful and elegant. Double doors stood wide to reveal an adjoining sitting room with vases and bowls of red and yellow flowers on every table. “This is a charming room,” she said, “and it pleases me just as it is. I begin to think your mother and I would have had a great deal in common.”