The Romany Heiress (21 page)

Giles nodded. “I think that is very wise. I have made
decisions too. Yet, I feel that any true decision must be
made between us, together.”

“We must not act hastily. Perhaps the span of an afternoon after an emotional morning is not enough
time,” Cate offered hesitantly.

“It’s been more than an afternoon of thought, Cate. I
feel as if I’ve thought of nothing else for the last four
weeks. This situation has been on my mind constantly.
I’ve spent hours and hours turning over options until
my contingencies have contingencies.” Giles gave a
soft self-deprecating laugh.

“Of course you did. I would expect nothing less from
you” Cate smiled at him, a bit of mischief sparking in
her green eyes. The sight of it warmed him and Giles
felt relaxed, at ease. He leaned back against the window
pane and stared at his father’s portrait.

“It’s hard to imagine he’s not my father.” There, he
said it out loud, the thing that had sat heaviest on his
heart that afternoon as he paced. He felt Cate’s hand
lace with his own where it lay upon his leg. Her hand
felt warm, comforting as it linked with his.

“He was your father, Giles, just not in the usual way
we are conditioned to think of them. He taught you
about being a man, how to be his heir.”

Giles nodded. “I suppose he did, although I cannot
say I’m grateful for all the things he taught me. I also
learned a great many things I did not want to aspire to
by watching him.”

“I suspect that is true for most children.” Cate laughed.
“I don’t know anyone who wants to be an exact replica of
their parents.” Then she sobered. “I certainly don’t want
to be like my mother. I would like to think I could not
have done what she did. It scares me to think what loving
a man could drive me to”

“When I think of my mother,” Giles said slowly, “I
sometimes wonder if she had ever been stable. I was
too young to understand what it was that happened between her and father. But she had intense mood swings.
She would go through alternate periods of doting on
me and then ignoring me altogether.”

“Magda never ignored me. She devoted herself to me
wholeheartedly when she could have easily chosen to
do otherwise.”

“Of course she did. You were her ticket to security,”
Giles ground out.

“Giles! Don’t be unkind. It wasn’t like that. Besides, even if that was her motive, I can’t believe it. She’s all
the family I’ve got”

“You’ve got the Moncriefs.” Giles waved a hand at
the line of portraits.

“They’re not really my family any more than the cottager who birthed you”

“Then why did you come seeking to associate yourself with them?” Giles challenged, shifting his position
to look squarely at her, removing his hand from hers.

“I liked the idea of it,” Cate said softly. “But it’s not all
I thought it would be and at the same time, it’s a great deal
more than I thought it would be. Which is why I’ve made
some decisions. I would like you to hear them now.”

Giles nodded. “I would prefer to go first”

“Fine. I am ready to listen.” She settled herself on
the bench, tucking her skirts about her legs so that she
could draw her knees up and rest her chin on them.

Giles rose and began pacing the short length of the
bench. “It is apparent to me, based on Vicar Waring’s
news this morning that there is some question as to
the legitimate heir of Spelthorne. That question can
either be decided privately between the two of us, or it
can be decided publicly in the court of law with all the
attendant scandal that will accompany it.” Here, Giles
paused to watch Cate weigh his words. “You are an intelligent woman, Cate. I do not think you actually believe you could win in a court of law against a peer of
my standing.” He saw her start to stiffen at the claim,
her temper rising in her eyes. He held up his hand to
stall her protest.

“I don’t mean this pompously, Cate. I mean to counsel
you on the realities of your choices,” he pleaded, softening his tone to convince her of his sincerity. “There are
enough suppositions I can make to weaken your case.
The emerald may have been stolen. Perhaps Magda took
it when she visited here years ago. Perhaps there was a
daughter but that daughter was not you” Giles shook his
head. “You heard all the arguments this morning. I have
no desire to repeat them here or in a court of law. I do not
want to see you hurt. Taking this to a public trial would
not only hurt you but endanger you. You could be convicted of fraud, of playing an imposter.”

The look on her face was one of shock.

“Didn’t you know?”

Cate shook her head wearily. “I didn’t stop to think
about those consequences”

Giles nodded. “It is understandable, but there it is. I
cannot allow you to take that risk when I feel certain that
you would be outmanned, outgunned, out-maneuvered
on all fronts regardless of the truth”

Cate’s head came up at that. “The truth?”

Giles sat down next to her, taking her hands. “I have
no intention of relinquishing Spelthorne but I do acknowledge privately to you and only to you, that the
story you tell is very likely the truth. You may be
Spelthorne’s heir, but I am Spelthorne’s earl. To me, as
I paced the gallery this afternoon, that is the only issue
that needs resolving. How can the heir and the earl be
reconciled without scandal, without one or the other being harmed but with them both attaining their goals?”

“I want to tell you of the decision I made, before you
go any further,” Cate cut in. “I want you to know so that
whatever you say or do after this point, you do so
knowing my full mind and knowing that you were not
manipulated or misled,” She insisted with a quiet fervor. “I believe fully that I am the rightful heir, that I was
given away at birth, and that a boy was put in my place.
But I do not seek to supplant you. I would be foolish to
think I could run this estate, that I could command the
loyalty and respect of all those who look to you for
leadership. Spelthorne needs you”

Giles inclined his head in a slight bow. “I thank you
for that compliment. It seems that we are agreed on our
perception of the problem that lies before us. This may
make my plan more palatable to you”

The afternoon shadows were lengthening when Giles
went down on one buff trousered knee before her and
took her hand, which he noticed trembled beneath his
own. “For the sake of all the reasons known and unknown, for the sake of creating rightness out of an unjust situation, I am asking you to marry me, to be by my
side as my countess”

The look on her face was inscrutable in the failing
light of the afternoon. Giles would have given a hundred guineas to know what she was thinking as she
struggled to take in his words.

The proposal had come, just as Magda had said it
would. Magda had believed such an alliance was inevitable, the only solution that could privately resolve the issue. Cate was stunned. She’d tried to forestall it,
even prevent it with her plan. She’d thought by telling
him she would not seek to put him off Spelthorne he’d
feel relieved of any obligation to sacrifice himself upon
the altar of matrimony.

She should have seen sooner that Giles Moncrief
didn’t work that way. He was a man of honor and his
honor demanded the alliance. At least the proposal had
been truthful. He had not made any false protestations
of love or shower her with meaningless romantic poetry
about her eyes or her hair. And why should he? He was
not courting her. He was paying her what she was owed
in the only currency available to him since she’d already so resolutely refused his offer of money.

Magda would be ecstatic. But Magda didn’t have to
live with him the rest of her life. Magda didn’t have to
live with her conscience, knowing what had driven him
to make the proposal. In truth, she was smart enough to
know that he was proposing to Spelthorne, not to her.

She had to say something. The silence was stretching out to an embarrassing length. “You don’t have to
do this,” she stammered. “Surely there must be another way”

“Do you know of one?” Giles reprimanded her
softly. “If there was, I would have found it by now”

Cate gave an unladylike snort. “For that reason, I
must respectfully decline your well-meant proposal”

“Don’t be foolish, Cate. Your refusal condemns us
both,” Giles warned. “If I lavished sweet words on you,
you’d know I was lying. I will not commit the mistakes of my father by pretending to something that isn’t there,
simply to win my bride.” There was an edge to his voice.

Cate answered the challenge. “I am thirty-years old,
like yourself, Giles. I am no young debutante full of romantic notions. I am full of practicalities. I do not think
it would be much of a life shackled to a man with the
knowledge that I’d coerced him to the point of offering
for me.”

His next words surprised her. “Do you think it would
be like that, Cate? Do you truly believe there is no hope
for us? Certainly, we are not in love at this moment, but
we’ve had no chance to explore that. We’ve shared the
briefest of kisses and yet you cannot deny there is passion between us” He bent his lips to her hand and
pressed a kiss in her open palm. His lips trailed a line of
hot kisses to her wrist and upward to her elbow in reminder of the kisses that had gone before.

Cate gasped. Her skin flamed beneath his touch, instantly ignited by his caress. “Giles, please … I don’t
know. I can’t think when you do this.” Cate sighed,
wanting to give herself up to caress of his hand on the
nape of her neck, to the promises made in his eyes,
midnight-dark with desire.

“Then say yes, Cate.”

For reasons that had little to do with Spelthorne and
everything to do with the possibilities promised in his
kiss, she did.

Giles announced their betrothal that evening at supper. It almost felt real when he’d stood at the end of the
meal and raised his wine glass in a toast to his impending nuptials. He gave her a warm glance that she imagined a happy betrothed might give his intended. There,
all similarity ended. Alain and Tristan made no attempt
to hide their shock. Isabella and Cecile had smiled and
done a better job of masking their surprise. The two
women artfully pre-empted the arguments on their husbands’ lips with lively chatter about the wedding.
Isabella rose and immediately excused the women to
the drawing room, declaring they had plans to make.

In the drawing room, Cate hadn’t known what to
make of all of Isabella’s conversation. The countess had
asked several questions about the wedding: when would
it take place? Where would it be held? Cate felt awk ward. She didn’t know and the countess was carrying on
as if this were to be the social event of the year. Surely,
Isabella knew better than that. Cate let her talk until
Giles and the gentlemen joined them after their port.

Isabella wasted no time turning her questions on Giles.
That was when Cate had gleaned that Giles wanted the
wedding immediately, the day after next. Isabella was
scandalized and argued him into waiting five days. She’d
wanted a week or two but Giles insisted the marriage take
place quickly. Five days, he said, was more than enough
time to procure a marriage license from the village clergyman and to make some minimal arrangements. Nothing more was needed.

Cate felt her cheeks flush at his brusque manner.
What he really meant was that no arrangements were
needed for a wedding such as this. It was quite a
telling comment from a man who was famed for his
entertainments and organizational abilities. It might be
true that little fuss was needed over such a hasty and
arranged marriage, but still Giles might have put a better face on it.

Isabella leapt into the breach left by his comment.
“Shame on you, Giles. All haste and reason aside, every
bride deserves a bit of fussing. All wedding days are
special in their own way” She smiled to soften her
scolding. “Cate needs a dress at the very least, and I
haven’t anything suitable on hand for a wedding gown.
We’ll need time to create something worthy of the occasion. We’ll barely have time to send to the Meadows
for Tristan’s roses to decorate the chapel with.”

From that moment forward, Isabella and Cecile dominated her schedule with plans. The next morning, Cate
found herself inundated with lists and questions. At
mid-morning, Giles saved her with an offer to walk her
over to the old Norman chapel at Spelthorne where the
ceremony would be held.

The little church had character aplenty and was in
good repair since services were regularly held in there
on Sunday afternoons for those who didn’t attend the
larger, newer church in the village which had been built
when Spelthorne’s population exceeded the capacity of
the little chapel. Giles stood in the archway of the nave,
watching her expectantly while she strolled the length
of the aisle. “Will it do, Cate? I should have asked what
you would prefer. We can have the ceremony at the
abbey or at the village church if you’d like.”