Virginia Henley (20 page)

“I asked him to say good-bye to you, but he said you’d have to chase after him this time.”

Kitty seethed with indignation but was determined not to let it show. “Barbara, men are like carriages—one doesn’t have to go chasing after them because there will be another one along any moment.”

Samuel Haynsworth was closeted with his daughter in his office.

“Now listen to me, Grace. This is our last chance. Patrick
O’Reilly is coming down this weekend and I want to make absolutely sure of him. He’s a genius for ramrodding new ideas through, but if I lose him, I’ll lose Gardiner and Bazley too. You know the bleachworks are so debt-ridden that I’ve come close to bankruptcy.”

“That’s been entirely due to bad management, Father. It’s not your fault.”

“It’s my fault because I put the wrong people in charge. But your brother is out now and that’s why I’m so desperate to get O’Reilly. He’s aggressive and hard-nosed with nerves of steel when it comes to taking chances in business. If he’s behind it, Rose Banks will be a roaring success and put an end to our financial woes. The least you can do is help me snare him!”

“Father, Patrick O’Reilly can have any woman he wants.”

“Exactly! And that’s why it’s going to take more than looks and blushes to interest a young stallion like him. A little slap and tickle won’t satisfy a lusty man, Grace. Get him into bed, girl! There’s no man breathing who’s a match for a woman with her mind set.”

That same afternoon Patrick had been having an interesting discussion with Messrs. Gardiner and Bazley. He was surprised that they were toying with the idea of withdrawing their support from Rose Banks because of the state of Haynsworth’s affairs. Patrick managed to assure the two millowners that their venture would be an unqualified success. He was annoyed with Samuel Haynsworth. The state of the business didn’t bother him very much, because he knew with proper management it could provide a lavish living, as it had in the past. That Haynsworth had tried to put one over on him by keeping him in the dark about his financial troubles didn’t sit well with Patrick. At dinner he avoided a frontal attack but decided to observe Haynsworth more closely. Sam’s manner was so bluff and hearty that Patrick had a hard time
hiding his amusement. It was glaringly obvious that the older man was pathetically trying to cover up something, and Patrick relented toward him because he was reminded of his father. His attention fell on Grace. She had the angelic look of a girl just emerged from the convent. He wondered how he could get her into a receptive mood without wounding her delicacy. He pondered whether he was doing the right thing to contemplate marriage to her. Would she shrink in horror at his touch, her maidenly modesty outraged? He thought, Well, I must get over the first hurdle. “Would you like to show me the plants in the conservatory, Grace? Your father tells me you know all their Latin names.”

Her innocent blue eyes fixed on his as she smiled her acceptance and arose from the table.

“Like a lamb to slaughter,” thought Patrick irreverently.

For the first time in years Patrick was a little unsure of himself. Should he declare himself first, or let his actions speak for him? As they stood in the green twilight admiring an exotic orchid, he gently drew her to him and softly touched her lips. Her tongue darted into his mouth expertly and he was so amazed that he wondered if it had really happened or if his imagination was playing tricks on him. He decided to put things to the test once more. Very tenderly he drew her toward him and gave her a chaste kiss, but she slid her body against his so invitingly it was obvious this wasn’t her first encounter with a man. Patrick was at once shocked and intrigued. It was like making love to a nun; arousing because of its sinful quality! He was fascinated to see how far she would be willing to go.

Samuel Haynsworth came to the door of the conservatory in his hat and coat and announced, “I have to go out. I promised to visit an old friend of mine who’s confined to bed. Grace will entertain you. Why don’t you take Patrick
upstairs to your sitting room? I’m sure you’ll be much more cozy up there.”

“All right, Daddy. Don’t hurry back on our account. I’ll keep Patrick amused,” she promised and rubbed against him again. It was so patently obvious that they were being left alone together, Patrick thought that perhaps Haynsworth was trying to palm off not only a damaged business but also a soiled daughter.

Grace took his hand and led him upstairs to her rooms. She didn’t stop in the sitting room, but went straight through to her bedroom. Patrick noted with cynicism the lack of servants, but he was too consumed with curiosity to hesitate. She startled him with the swiftness of her disrobing. No shy flower, this. Patrick thanked Providence that he hadn’t proposed to her before taking the liberty of kissing her. Her body was very pale and fragile-looking, her pubic hair blond and baby-fine. He was still reluctant to defile a “good” girl. Grace deftly took him in her right hand and manipulated his shaft until he was erect and throbbing. He took over then, forcing her back against the pillows. As her passion built, she began to whisper the most obscene words that Patrick had ever heard from a woman’s lips. The effect was so erotic both to her partner and herself that she came before him with a great convulsive spasm that forced him to withdraw.

“Don’t worry, my love, I’ll do it this way.” She went on her knees to him and took his shaft into her mouth. Patrick was too far gone to protest. He found it impossible to take the passive role even in oral sex, so he held her head and thrust and plunged violently to reach his climax. Confronted with such a paradox, he was at a complete loss and took refuge in anger.

“My God, you know more tricks than a prostitute from a Soho brothel. A girl with your upbringing should be ashamed. I took a riding crop to my sister when I found her
fooling with the stableboys. What the hell has your brother been thinking of to allow you to learn such things?”

She laughed and said, “My brother?” with such contempt and irony that Patrick immediately was aware of their sordid relationship and he was sickened. “My brother started giving me lessons when I was ten,” she told him bluntly.

He shook his head in disbelief. “I would have put money on it. You really had me fooled. I thought you a virgin. Grace, I was actually going to ask you to marry me, even though I’m well aware your father has been in financial difficulties. Oh, yes, I knew he was trying to put one over on me.” He laughed at himself. “I’d no idea you were trying to put one over on me, too. Marriage now is out of the question. You do realize that, don’t you, Grace?”

“I understand, but oh, God, Father will kill me for losing your backing,” she said wretchedly.

“No such thing. I still shall work with your father on this new mill project. It’s a very sound investment. Your family’s finances soon will turn around for the better. But our personal relationship can’t continue. You can tell your father that I’m engaged to another, if you prefer.”

“Thank you, Patrick,” she said quietly.

“Thank you,” he said with a grin, his good humor returning, “thank you for everything!”

After he left the house, he just walked and walked. His ideas about women had just received such a jolt that all his previous thinking had been turned upside down. Grace had looked like a madonna and had turned out to have no morals at all, while Kitty with her bold looks and saucy manners was innocent as a kitten. How blind he had been! He was so conditioned to believe that an unequal marriage was worse than a loveless marriage. That was ridiculous! He loved Kitty; nay, he adored her. When he got back to London he would go on his knees to her and beg her to marry him. What
an insufferable bastard he had been to her, thinking her beneath him for wedding but not for bedding. He’d put an announcement in the
Morning Post
and have the biggest wedding of the season. He’d flaunt her before all London. The women might not accept her into society for a while, but there wasn’t a man breathing who wouldn’t envy him.

At Madame Tussaud’s Kitty felt miserable. Simon was egging Terry on to steal one of the waxwork figures and set it in Queen Boadicea’s Chariot near Big Ben. Kitty found it childish and couldn’t conceal her irritation.

“I know,” Simon said. “Why don’t I take Kit home and you two stay and enjoy yourselves.” Kitty allowed herself to be persuaded. She didn’t exactly have a headache, more like a heartache, and she felt miserable. When they reached Cadogen Square, Julia had gone on her afternoon round of visiting and the house seemed quiet and lonely.

“Simon, to be brutally frank, I’m not up to entertaining you in the drawing room. I want to go to my bedroom and be comfortable,” she pleaded, longing to be alone with her thoughts of Patrick.

“Then that’s exactly what we will do. I know the very thing to get rid of your headache and lift you out of the doldrums.” He winked at her and went over to the wine table and removed two decanters and two glasses. He started up the stairs for all the world like he owned the place and she was the guest. “Come on. Last one up is a coward!”

Simon poured the wine and she sat gazing into the fire, desperately wondering how she would face it when Patrick brought his wife home. “Kit,” he said softly, “have you thought any more about my proposal?”

“Oh, Simon, how could you possibly get Cromwell past the Tussaud guards?” she said impatiently.

“No, Kit, I mean my proposal of marriage.”

She looked at him for a long time. How easy it would be to say “yes” and run away from this house and live happily ever after. She found she couldn’t lie to him.

“I don’t love you, Simon. I like you, but I don’t love you,” she said honestly. He threw back his head and laughed. His beautiful teeth shone in the firelight.

“Kit, I don’t want you to love me. I just want to be friends. The moment I produce a wife to look after me, Mother will depart for Europe and leave us both in peace.”

Kitty pondered this for a moment. “But, Simon, you’re forgetting Terry.”

“I’m not forgetting Terry for one moment. He’ll come to Surrey with us. I wouldn’t have it any other way! There’s plenty of room—beautiful countryside to hunt. I always have bachelor friends staying with me; he’d fit right in. We’ll be very informal, Kit. We can do exactly as we damn well please.” He said persuasively, “Doesn’t the idea of being Lady Crowther appeal?”

“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t, but Simon, listen to me. I’ll have a friend for a husband, a lovely country house, a home for my brother, freedom to do as I please, money and a title after your uncle dies. But what is in it for you?” she asked pointedly.

“Kit, you are very beautiful. All my friends will be mad about you. You’ll make a delightful hostess for me in Surrey and get rid of my mother for me.” He plied her with more wine and she looked at him owlishly. “There’s a piece of the puzzle missing, Simon. There has to be something else in it for you. All men are selfish,” she told him solemnly.

He topped up her wine and said with a laugh, “Kit, you are too shrewd by far. I’m afraid I shall have to confess all and throw myself on your mercy.”

“Aha! I knew it,” she said triumphantly.

“My uncle makes me an allowance. However, I can’t manage
on it.” He looked her straight in the eye and said, “When I marry, it will double.” He lifted his glass to salute her.

Kitty began to laugh, distracted from her ever-present thoughts of her love for Patrick and her sure knowledge that she was about to lose him.

He grinned and said, “I told you I was an amusing devil.”

Suddenly the door was thrown open and an outraged Julia stood on the threshold.

“Entertaining young men in your bedroom is simply not done in my home, Kitty. What a shameful example you set for Barbara, to compromise yourself in this shocking way.”

Simon said smoothly, “I’ve just asked Miss Rooney to be my wife.”

“And I’ve accepted him,” Kitty said imperiously, her face unnaturally flushed from the wine and the things Julia had said.

“Oh, my dear, how lovely. Simon, let me be the first to congratulate you.”

Julia was all smiles now. Everything was wonderful. Simon was smiling happily and Kitty thought she was going to faint.

When Simon told his mother that Kitty had agreed to marry him, she nodded her head rapidly, showing her approval. “I know you can’t bear to take my advice, but I’m giving it nonetheless. Do it right away before she changes her mind. Go to one of those wedding chapels, The Great Chapel, I think it’s called, in Curzon Street. She’s only a poor cousin, you know, and I don’t suppose they’d give her a lavish wedding anyway, and you can’t possibly afford anything showy. You’re in debt up to your eyebrows and the house in Surrey is so heavily mortgaged it’s a wonder it doesn’t sink through to China.”

“For once I think you have the right of it,” he agreed thoughtfully.

“The moment you get that certificate in your hand, present it to Lord Crowther’s man of business and your new allowance will start. I only hope to God your wife will have sense enough to curb your excesses, Simon.”

“If you think that, I’m afraid you don’t know me very well,” he said in a mocking tone.

“Simon, I don’t wish to know you very well,” Amelia shuddered delicately.

He bowed to her. “In that case, Mother dear, you may start for the Continent immediately.”

“Not until you are legally married and a decent woman is ensconced in your home. If Lord Crowther got wind of your wild behavior, he would cut you out of everything, and then we’d both suffer.”

“I’ll see to the necessary arrangements today, so stop worrying.”

Two days later Simon picked up Kitty, her brother and Barbara. When the carriage pulled up in Curzon Street, Simon said, “Kit and I are getting married this afternoon and you can be our witnesses.”