“Oh, Stephen,” Margaret said, “you cannot have permitted Lord Montford to call here on such an errand. Not after what he did to Kate-or tried to do-three years ago when none of us were here to defend her. You cannot. And Elliott cannot have done so. I do not believe it.”
“The thing is that he has been dangling after Kate again this year,” Stephen said. “I cannot see that there has been anything improper about it. I would have said something if I had thought so. So would you, Meg. Nessie would have said something, and Elliott certainly would. And there has been nothing improper in the way Kate has allowed him to dance with her and walk with her and sit with her. I actually thought a courtship was developing, and I was pleased about it, God help me, because Monty was my friend and I didn’t think his reputation signified if he had fallen for someone as good as Kate. But they really have been favoring each other and everyone has noticed. You noticed, Meg. But what looked innocent and even romantic before last evening suddenly looks different in light of what happened, or nearly happened three years ago.”
“You cannot believe, Stephen,” Margaret said, and she was on her feet too now, “that Kate has ever done anything whatsoever that is improper. I have spent time with the Marquess of Allingham this year because we have a former acquaintance and like each other. Is there gossip about that? Am I now expected to marry him or risk ruin and ostracism?”
“Allingham has an impeccable reputation, Meg,” he said with a sigh. “Besides, he has never made a wager that he could seduce and ruin you.”
“I do not want to see Lord Montford,” Katherine said decisively. “My answer is no. You can inform him of that, Stephen, and save him the effort of coming here. I daresay he will be vastly relieved. So will I when the carriage has left London behind tomorrow.”
He ran the fingers of one hand through his hair, leaving his curls more rumpled than ever.
“I knew you would refuse,” he said, “and I don’t blame you. I would in your place. I told Elliott you would refuse, and he said of course you would. But the thing is that perhaps you ought at least to see Monty and listen to what he has to say. If it is known that he made the offer but that you refused, then perhaps things will look a little better for you. I am not sure they will, but-”
“I am not interested in things looking better,” she said. “I am not interested in things at all, Stephen. And I do not care what anyone thinks. I want to go home. I want my life back. I want to forget that any of this happened.”
“But it did happen,” he said. “And I don’t think you will forget. I doubt anyone else will either.”
“Kate.” Margaret had sat back down. She was paler than ever. “Stephen and Elliott are right, you know. You have done no wrong in any of this. We know it. But the truth does not seem to matter in this new world we moved into three years ago when Stephen inherited the title. Only respectability matters. Lose that, and it seems you lose everything. Perhaps you ought to see Lord Montford and listen to his offer and then refuse it. Elliott has considerable influence. Good heavens, he is a duke. And Stephen is an earl. Together they can put it about that you behaved with the utmost propriety but that you had the courage to declare your innocence of all wrongdoing and to refuse to take the easy way out. They can put it about that you have withdrawn to the country in righteous indignation rather than that you have crept off there in disgrace. I daresay you will not ever want to come back here-I am sure I will not-but at least you will leave the door open for a return if ever you should want it.”
Katherine gazed reproachfully at her.
“Besides,” Margaret added, “if you refuse to receive Lord Montford, Kate, it might be perceived that Elliott and Stephen could not bring him up to scratch, that they were unable to defend your honor as they ought.”
“And they defend my honor by marrying me to a heartless scoundrel?” Katherine said.
She was being unfair. He was not that. It was Sir Clarence Forester who deserved that description.
But her brother and sister had said their piece, it seemed, and had nothing to add. They looked at her, both faces still pale with misery.
And all this was not just about her, Katherine realized suddenly. This was about all of them. Even if she could go slinking off back to Warren Hall, or even all the way back to Throckbridge and somehow pick up her life where she had left it off there soon after Valentine’s Day more than three years ago-and it was a big if-but even if it could be done, she would be leaving Meg and Stephen and Nessie to live with the consequences of this horrible scandal.
And she was not entirely blameless.
Her family was, though.
She still could not see quite how she could help her family by seeing Lord Montford this afternoon. She really, really did not want to do it. She never wanted to see him again.
But Stephen thought she ought. So did Elliott.
And so did Meg.
“Very well, then.” She looked defiantly from Meg to Stephen. “I will receive Lord Montford this afternoon and I will listen to what he has to say. I will say one word in reply-no! But I will see him.”
“I do think you ought,” Stephen said. “Though my knuckles still itch to go at his face.”
“Kate,” Meg said, twisting her hands in her lap. “Oh, Kate, I let you down. I ought to have stayed with you in London three years ago, and what happened then would not have happened. Neither would everything that has happened this year.”
Katherine closed the distance between them, grabbed her sister about the shoulders, and hugged her tightly.
“Meg,” she said, “you have been the best of sisters. The very best. I am not going to have you blaming yourself, even if I have to marry Lord Montford to prevent it.”
Not that it was going to come to that.
But the very idea of Meg trying to shoulder the blame, as she always did when something threatened any one of them!
13
IT had occurred to Jasper that since Merton had not yet reached his majority, it might be more to the point to speak to his guardian first. But when he had arrived at Moreland House late in the morning, he had found the two men together.
It was just as well. It had been a dashed uncomfortable interview, but at least it did not have to be repeated once it was over.
No punches had been thrown and no gauntlet dashed in his face, though both men had looked murderous enough and Merton had grabbed him by the neck when he first appeared in the ducal library and raised his fist. Jasper had expected a bulbous nose to match Clarence’s-and had had no right to defend himself, by Jove.
The ensuing interview had been brief, hostile, deuced uncomfortable, and relatively civil. And the result of it was the afternoon call he was about to make.
Was there any way he could have predicted all this twenty-four hours ago? Would that damned weasel have dared open his mouth last night if he had gone to that infernal soiree instead of leaving the field clear for Katherine Huxtable-who also had not been there?
But dash it all, there had been rumblings of gossip even before Clarence had orchestrated them to a veritable roar.
Hell and damnation! His mind followed up that mild beginning by dredging up every foul word and phrase he had ever heard or uttered. When he had covered the list, he went back through it again for good measure.
He felt not one whit better when he arrived outside Merton House.