‘Nonsense, my love. I have always liked visiting Parkgate. I much prefer it to rackety resorts like Brighton, which is ruined by that riff-raff crowd who toad-eat the Prince Regent.’ Lady Edgeworth gave a disdainful sniff. ‘No, I certainly did not wish to attend his party so you may rest easy upon that score, I assure you!’
Kate murmured a soothing response. It was only recently that she had learnt of her benefactress’s disapproval of the Prince Regent. Lady Edgeworth was too worldly wise to shout her feelings from the rooftops, but she had conceived a dislike of the Prince when he had separated from his wife.
Such want of conduct offended Lady Edgeworth, who had strong views on the sanctity of marriage. She might have been prepared to overlook the Prince’s other failings such as his vanity and his notorious extravagance: she could not approve of a man who was so wrapped up in the pursuit of pleasure that he appeared to have no regard for his wedding vows.
Princess Caroline might have her faults, certainly she was a loud and coarse woman, but she was his legal wife and the mother of his child. Not that he appeared to bother much with visiting his daughter and Kate knew that Lady Edgeworth considered that disgraceful too.
‘May I ask if you have made any plans for next Wednesday, Cousin Kitty?’
Emma’s voice broke in on Kate’s private thoughts and she rapidly abandoned them to answer her.
‘I don’t believe we have any engagements that day,’ she replied, offering Emma a plate of seed cake.
‘We were thinking of driving out to Malpas and I wondered if you would care to join us? It is a very pretty little town with many fine old buildings, including a church which Matthew wishes to see.’ Emma gave a little chuckle. ‘I happened to mention to him that it is the burial place of one of my warlike ancestors, the bold Sir Randal Brereton.’
Kate’s ears pricked up. ‘I didn’t realise that your brother bore an old family name,’ she murmured.
‘Oh that’s due to my grandfather! Certain names have always cropped up in our family tree, but he decided on a deliberate policy of reviving the old English names when Papa was born. Papa decided to carry on the tradition, much to my sister’s disgust I might add!’
A puzzled frown tugged Kate’s fine brows together.
‘Milly’s full name isn’t Amelia. It’s Mildred.’ Emma giggled. ‘But don’t ever tell her I let the secret out. She hates it!’
Kate grinned. ‘My lips are sealed!’
‘My own name is an old one too, but after all the fuss she made, I could never understand why Milly elected to continue the tradition,’ Emma continued. ‘I suppose naming her son Harold was meant as a memorial to our elder brother, but, then she went on to call her girls Hilda and Edith, poor things.’ Becoming aware that Kate was staring at her in surprise, Emma paused. ‘Didn’t you know? About Harold, I mean?’
‘Cousin Randal never mentioned having an elder brother.’ Kate took a sip of her own coffee to give herself time to recover from the surprise.
‘He died in an accident as a child. I believe Papa was devastated.’ Emma shrugged awkwardly. ‘It all happened many years before I was born. However, Papa still disliked anyone speaking of it so all I know is that Harold wandered off out of his governess’s sight during a family visit to Scotland. Papa found him. He had taken Randal, who was only three years old, out for a walk and they came across Harold lying at the foot of some rocks. He had fallen and cracked his skull.’ Emma sighed. ‘He’d just had his seventh birthday.’
‘How dreadful for your parents,’ Kate said quietly. ‘I’m so sorry.’
It was a horrid story. No wonder Randal didn’t want to revive what must be a disturbing memory by speaking of it.
Emma thanked her for her condolences. ‘As you can imagine, it made Papa extremely cautious of our safety. He used to get so cross with Randal when he climbed trees or played daring tricks.’ A rueful smile flickered over her neat features. ‘We girls learnt obedience to his strict rules was the easiest way to maintain the peace and avoid his anger, but Randal often defied him and was regularly beaten for it!’
She took a bite of her cake and Kate gave her time to swallow it before putting a question which had intrigued her for some time.
‘Forgive my curiosity, but am I right in thinking that the situation did not really improve when your brother was older?’
Emma hesitated and then, apparently deciding that Kitty’s family connection entitled her to an answer, nodded her blonde head. ‘They were often at odds. Mama always tried to act as a peacemaker. Her efforts were mostly in vain.’ Emma set her plate down. ‘Please don’t misunderstand me, Cousin Kitty, Papa loved us all, but he was very proud and unbending. Perhaps if he had attempted to understand Randal rather than to demand instant unwavering obedience, Randal might have tried harder to please him.’
A wry smile, uncannily like her brother’s, twisted Emma’s lips. ‘As it was, they had so little in common that their differences always ended in a quarrel!’
‘I got that impression from something Randal said,’ Kate murmured.
‘Papa was particularly angry when Randal announced he wanted to join the Army once war was declared in ‘ninety-three. He wanted Randal to go up to Oxford, but he might have accepted the idea if Randal had shown any tact. But he completely rejected Papa’s alternative suggestion of entering the Navy and was obstinately set on the cavalry. I was very young at the time, but I can still remember the shouting!’
Emma’s eyes clouded at the memory of her father’s fury.
‘Mama pleaded with him, reminding him of his patriotic duty. Even Uncle Godwin tried, but I doubt if Papa would have been persuaded if the Prince Regent hadn’t intervened. It was his advice which tipped the balance.’ She let out a small ironic chuckle. ‘Did you know, Kitty, the Prince always wanted a military career?’
Kate thought it safe to admit this knowledge since it was a widely known fact.
‘He was prevented by the King from achieving this ambition so he sympathised with Randal and brought his influence to bear on Papa to buy Randal a cornetcy.’ Emma shook her head in mock despair. ‘I don’t know who was the most upset when he left home to join the Twelfth Light Dragoons. Mama and I cried for days until Papa shouted at us to stop. He was still angry with Randal even when he began to achieve promotion.’
‘Did your father never relent?’
‘Not really. Oh he was proud of Randal’s success, which was entirely through his own efforts, I might add, since Papa refused to do anything further for him, but he wanted him to come home.’ Emma shrugged. ‘Papa had a bee in his bonnet about the succession and he wanted Randal to settle down. He was immensely proud of our lineage and I think Harold’s untimely death preyed on his mind. Mama told me once that he was worried Randal might be killed before he had fathered an heir.’
Kate nodded understanding. Her own father had suffered from a similar obsession, forcing her mother to undergo endless pregnancies in order to obtain the son he craved. All had ended in miscarriage and, when Kate was fifteen, her mother had lost her life in yet another vain attempt to satisfy his ambition.
He had married again the instant it was decent to leave off his mourning garments.
It had been a very unhappy time for Kate. She had tried not to resent her father’s choice of bride, but Lucy’s highhanded behaviour made it impossible. She disliked her new stepdaughter and picked fault at every turn. Sir George, who had never made any secret of his disappointment that Kate was not a boy and rarely showed her any affection, soon agreed to Lucy’s demands that Kate be sent to stay with her maternal grandmother in Carlisle.
At sixteen Kate hadn’t wanted to understand that her stepmother’s hold over her father was sexual, but even then she had realised that Sir George was besotted by Lucy’s abundant fertility. Having already presented him with twin boys a scant nine months after the wedding, Lucy had been increasing again when news of Kate’s elopement filtered back to the manor house on the shores of Lake Bassenthwaite.
Furious, Sir George had threatened to cut all connection between them unless she returned home immediately. The idea of a life of repentance under Lucy’s resentful eye was enough to make Kate refuse, even though her rosy dreams had already begun to tarnish after only a brief taste of marriage.
Her father had carried out his threat. Encouraged by Lucy, he had sent one last message, announcing that he had no wish to acknowledge such an undutiful wretch as his daughter.
You have brought disgrace upon us
, he had written.
Do not expect any help from me now or in the future. I want nothing more to do with you. You will not be admitted if you attempt to visit and any letters of yours will be thrown on the fire unopened. The rest of your belongings and your mother’s pearls will be packed up and sent to you. Once this is done, your name will never be mentioned in this house again.
Even in the fog of shocked disbelief and dismay which had followed the blow of his cold words, Kate had understood one thing very clearly. He had no need of her now that he had sons to take her place.
‘Papa expected Randal to sell out when the Peace of Amiens was declared.’ Emma’s soft voice roused Kate from her unhappy reverie. ‘Randal refused. He did return home on extended leave when Mama was dying, but he resisted Papa’s attempts to persuade him to stay and returned to his regiment after her funeral.’
Emma pulled a face. ‘It wasn’t until after Walcheren that he sold out and I can’t say that I blame him!’
This odd-sounding name was familiar to Kate. The campaign to help the Austrians by sending men to the island of Walcheren at the mouth of the Scheldt in the hope of diverting Napoleon’s attention away from the Danube had taken place barely two years ago. It had been a complete disaster!
Kate would have loved to ask Emma to clarify what she meant. Unfortunately, even as she opened her mouth to do so, Tom Egerton, another of that morning’s callers, bore down on them with an eager smile and the opportunity for any further private conversation was lost.
It wasn’t until the Lattimers were on the point of leaving that Kate remembered that she hadn’t given Emma an answer to her invitation. Quickly seeking Alicia’s permission, which was immediately granted, she was able to intercept her friends in the hallway and tell them that she would be delighted to accompany them on their outing.
‘Excellent, Cousin Kitty,’ Matthew Lattimer replied, his pleasant face breaking into a smile. ‘It will give us the chance to spend a day together before we have to leave Chester.’
‘I shall be sorry to see you go,’ Kate said and meant it.
Emma smiled at her. ‘Let’s not think about partings,’ she declared cheerfully. ‘We have your party tomorrow night to look forward to and the ball my brother is giving for us.’ She giggled happily. ‘I always wanted to hold a costume ball, but Papa would never agree to it.’
‘I hope you have organised your costume, cousin,’ Matthew chimed in with a grin at his wife.
‘It is well in hand, sir,’ Kate answered.
‘Ah a lady of decision!’ Matthew’s grin broadened and Emma instantly began to assert that she
had
made her mind up this time and would have done so earlier if he hadn’t been so horridly rude about her earlier ideas.
Laughing, Matthew bore her away and, trying to crush her envy of their transparent happiness, Kate returned to her duty at Alicia’s side.
* * * *
Bidden to dine in Abbey Square before the party to celebrate Miss Nixon’s debut into society, Lord Redesmere arrived some ten minutes early. Handing his hat and gloves to Thorpe, he strolled into the drawing room and was rewarded by the sight of the young lady in question standing alone by the marble fireplace.
‘You are very prompt, my lord.’ Kate held out her hand to him with a dazzling smile.
‘My compliments, cousin.’ Randal lifted her fingers to his lips. ‘You look even more ravishing than usual.’
His brilliant eyes glinted as he absorbed her exquisite appearance. She was wearing a gown he hadn’t seen before, a delicate blossom-pink
mousseline-de-soie
with long plaited sleeves and a triple flounced hem. Her shining curls were dressed
a la Sappho
and she wore the Nixon locket around her slim throat.
He wanted very much to kiss her, but, mindful of what had happened last time, he merely expressed the hope that she had remembered to save him a dance. ‘Or I shall be utterly desolate for I am sure your card is overflowing. You dance so divinely it cannot be otherwise.’
Kate laughed. ‘
Two
flattering compliments in as many minutes! It is easy to see you have just returned from Court, my lord!’ she teased, trying to suppress her elation. His words had been lightly spoken, but his eyes burned with admiration. ‘I trust you enjoyed your evening hobnobbing with the Prince?’
‘It was…interesting,’ Randal replied with a lazy smile.
‘Is that all you can say?’ Kate demanded indignantly.
In response, Randal laughingly described the occasion, but even as he spoke of the Regent’s startling appearance in a field marshal’s uniform he’d designed himself and which was so heavily embroidered in gold that it was rumoured to weigh as much as it cost—a full two hundred pounds—he was aware of a niggling unease.
He had spent some of his time in London in seeking the Hogans, the couple Lydia Ashe had requested to keep an eye on her daughter during the journey from America. After that first stormy meeting in the lawyers’ office he had instructed Alan Hilton to try and find them, knowing that if Gerald Sullivan failed to appear they could provide a positive identification of Kitty. After a great deal of diligent and discreet enquiry, Alan had come up with a lead shortly before Randal was due to depart for London.
This intelligence had suggested the Hogans might be staying with a relative in Chelsea. Randal had sought them out, but Fate was against him. The couple were indeed lodging with their niece, but had gone off to visit friends in Norwich and were not expected to return for another week or so. All he could do was leave a letter for them.
He comforted himself with the hope that the Hogans would agree to help him identify Kitty. They were well acquainted with Henry Ashe and he thought they would wish to reassure themselves of his stepdaughter’s safety. As a further precaution he’d deposited a generous sum in cash with a London lawyer named in his letter to meet any expenses they might incur in travelling to Chester.