Beauty in Disguise (14 page)

“I think I would agree with that, sir.”

“So formal! I liked the sound of Dalton upon your lips better.”

“Then I will not abuse it, my lord. It might become too commonplace.”

“Never. Not when it is you using it.”

At that moment, fireworks burst into the night sky, and she was totally spellbound. “Oh, Dalton!”

They continued their dance in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, but both knowing they thought of the same things.

When he led her back to the box, his mother sat alone. “All by yourself?”

He raised her hand and kissed it. “Where is Father?”

She laughed. “He went to get me a little more of the shaved ham this half hour or more. I suspect he met one of his old cronies and they are toasting the old days. Would you be a dear and bring me your father or the ham, whichever you find sooner?”

He laughed as he left, and Kathryn remembered being nervous alone with her. “I can see where Lord Dalton gets his sense of humor,” she said shyly. “I understand it was your idea to come here tonight, my lady. I am so glad. It is a wonderful place!”

“It has its dark side, my dear, but for the most part I find it wonderful myself.” She pulled out the chair next to her and indicated Kathryn should sit by her.

“Christopher is quite enchanted with you, my dear. I believe it cannot have escaped your notice.”

She blushed. “I do not know why he should be. There are so many wonderful girls out this year.” She looked down at her lap. “But I am glad he has bestowed so much of his time on me.”

His mother put a finger under her chin to lift her face. “You need not be embarrassed, my child. Though still a young man, he has always known his own mind and I am very proud of him.”

“You should be, ma’am. I am sure his thoughtfulness is a testimony to you and Lord Dalton. He gives you credit all the time. I lost my mother when I was young, so my father has been both to me, but I miss her every day.” She swiped at a tear. “But I am glad to finally meet you.”

“Very prettily said, my dear. I have been looking forward to that pleasure, as well.”

Sometimes that night invaded her dreams, and she would wake up in the morning thinking it had only happened last night. Then her stark room would take its place, and she knew it had only been a dream. Sometimes she thought that whole Season was a dream—a dream that ultimately turned into a nightmare.

Well, she would decorate the dining room like a starry night. She would never call it a night at Vauxhall, or he would know she still thought of it. But she would get pleasure out of recreating that night, no matter how long, or how many mistakes, ago.

* * *

Dalton was frustrated. He had virtually no time alone with Kathryn, so had little chance of continuing her purgatory. It was her just due. Was it not? He
had
hurt her at the Priory that day, and he was immediately sorry.

He watched her constantly, whether with her or from a distance. He was astounded at her beauty, even beneath that ridiculous disguise. Her face was still her face; it was obvious despite not seeing her eyes. He berated himself over and over for letting her mask fool him.

She took no time for herself. If she was not dancing to Charity’s tune, she was volunteering to run an errand for Lady Dinsmore or playing with the children in the nursery. He could admit that in that way, she had not changed. He was beginning to lose sight of whatever goal he’d had.

He would not give up the fight yet. He had a plan for dinner that night. He had not quite determined what he expected to accomplish with it. Did he want to embarrass her? Did he want to see her squirm? Did he want her to hurt as she hurt him? He wasn’t sure anymore.

He could feel anger beginning to fade. It was not in his normal personality, and he was starting to feel as badly about himself as he was making her feel. But he would go ahead with this one last reminder, then he would go home more at peace.
Dear Lord, all I want is some peace. Only You know how she hurt me.
And his conscience was pricked at the thought that God also knew this was not the right way to go about it.

But he patiently bided his time at dinner, waiting for the opening in the conversation he both feared and anticipated. There was little time left before he would be leaving and, as yet, his hurt had yet to be assuaged. Would it ever be?

He had lain awake the previous night, punching his pillow, needing a culprit of some kind, but he found no release in the exercise. His mind would not let it go. He must determine what to do about Kathryn. He must decide whether his dogged pursuit of justice should cease. His mother would tell him to pray about it and let God take care of the rest. And he had been praying about it. He apparently felt as if God could not work in the time constraints he was under. So he decided to help Him.

So Dalton sat at the Dinsmore dining table, avoiding veiled hints from the green-eyed she-devil next to him. He tried concentrating on the horse his host was in raptures over, but was also listening to Kathryn discuss party preparations with Lady Dinsmore.

His patience ran out, however, and he determined to mete out her punishment to a captive audience.

The moment finally came as the footmen cleared away the last course and began to serve dessert—raspberries in clotted cream. All conversation stopped for the moment, and he seized his opportunity.

He cleared his throat, catching the attention of the small group around him, and he nonchalantly said, “I have remembered something today which I have been meaning to ask of you. I happened upon a strange event the day after I arrived in Trotton. There was a woman being accosted on the bridge over the Rother River. Though she routed him, and assured me she was not hurt, I was hoping one of you could verify that the woman suffered no lasting injuries.”

The angered look of the daughter of the house and the clatter of Kathryn’s spoon on Lady Dinsmore’s fine china were the only responses he received.

“A woman, you say? A woman...? We must have more information to go on than that, my boy. Attacked, you say? Why did you not mention this sooner?”

“I beg your pardon, Sir John,” said Lord Dalton. “I was called away the next day. And I did not mean to startle Miss Montgomery so. My apologies.”

Charity, however, remarked acidly, “Perhaps you can describe this paragon that has so occupied your thoughts.”

His frustration showed in his words. “I did not say she was a paragon, Miss Charity. And I assure you it was only concern for the safety of one of your neighbors that I asked.”

“Perhaps, my lord,” Kathryn said, without looking at him, “you could give us a little more information. Crime is not a common word in Trotton.”

“Ah,
Miss Montgomery,
” replied Lord Dalton, “a cool head as always.”

“You see, Sir John, on one of my first nights here, I was unable to sleep and decided a walk in the night air might be just the thing. Having already crossed the bridge when I first arrived, I was interested in seeing it upon closer inspection. I thought the walk long enough to help me sleep.”

He watched Kathryn in complete frustration. It seemed she would not be put out of countenance no matter what he did. He almost admired that. She obviously knew what he was doing. Was she trying to protect
this
family?

“At first I assumed it was a tête-à-tête between two locals, but I soon knew otherwise when I saw the man held his prey at knifepoint. Realizing her danger, I raced to help. However, my presence was enough to prevent any real damage, and the attacker ran off.”

He had told the truth, somewhat, but had left out so many of the details that it was hardly recognizable as one of the most dreadful nights of his life. He had discovered his first love—the love that had left him bereft nine years ago—masquerading as someone else.

Evidently, Charity wondered the same thing. “My lord, are you saying we have a criminal among us and you said nothing of it before?”

“Miss Charity, please believe that had I thought any danger remained, I certainly should have presented it to your father sooner. I felt sure in the knowledge that the attacker would not tarry long in the vicinity, having had two people clearly see his face. I only remembered it a little earlier today. Though the young woman had claimed no injury, I wished to be sure of it.” Kathryn appeared to be in control of her feelings. This was not going as planned.

“It was too late that night to awaken the household for a situation in which nothing could be done. I should have mentioned it the next day, but I remember thinking that I should more than likely see her during my stay. When I thought of it while dressing for dinner, I supposed it to be a neighbor I had not yet encountered and decided I should tell Sir John this evening. I have been remiss in my actions, and I am sorry.”

“By Jove, ain’t heard nothing about it, ain’t heard a thing.” Sir John was almost as agitated as his daughter. “What are we coming to when old Trotton becomes the playground of thieves and assassins? I’d best question the neighborhood, my boy, get to the bottom of all this, what?”

“I assure you, Sir John, I had no intention of raising such alarms. I truly believe the fellow long gone.”

“Perhaps, my lord,” Kathryn began, “if you could describe the lady you saw, Sir John might go right to the source without alarming the entire neighborhood.”

“A smart girl that, very smart indeed,” muttered Sir John.

“I am afraid I can give very little description. She wore a hooded cloak, and as I mentioned, it was very late. I would guess she was young, based on her voice, and she was of a height approximately the same as Miss Charity.”

Dalton had been a little taken aback by Kathryn’s request. He soon realized, however, that she wanted Sir John and the rest to determine the woman was not one of the locals. Should that be the case, there need be no widespread search nor any investigation. She understood perfectly what he was doing, and she was doing everything in her power to stop it.

But Charity was having none of his indifference. “And what of her figure, my lord? Surely you did not let that escape your notice.” Her eyes flashed fire, and jealousy dripped from her words.

Would no one in this house stand up to the girl?

“I do not suppose it would have, Miss Charity, but as I mentioned, the woman was wearing a cloak, leaving me no clear indication of it.” He looked for a moment at his plate. “That is all I remember. I fear I have been of little help.”

Charity finally seemed to accept Lord Dalton’s air of nonchalance and was willing to allow a few more moments of discussion on the topic in order to add to her own consequence. “Papa, I should know if such a thing occurred amongst any of the women. We must suppose she was a stranger, too.”

Kathryn’s ploy appeared to be working.

“You would know of any of the gentry, my love,” Lady Dinsmore chimed in, “but none of us could be sure of all the tenants and villagers. She could even be a servant for one of our local families. We must hope, since we have not heard of the unfortunate affair, that the woman truly was uninjured.”

Suddenly Kathryn spoke up, and he felt the anger in her words. “I am in agreement, my lady.” She turned to look him fully in the face, though he could not see her eyes. “I believe to discuss it further would only cause alarm. I do not think you should let this
story
distress you.”

He had not expected it. She had not been cowed by his actions and she did not sit by and submit to his words and darts. She had been a full participant, and he had been the one to look a fool.

If all she told him had been true, she had been beaten down and trodden upon by every male in her life. Did he want to be a part of that? He knew now that he did not.

He put his napkin on the table beside his plate. He was about to excuse himself when the butler entered the room and brought a silver salver with a letter upon it to him. “A missive has just arrived for you, my lord.”

“Thank you, Jarvis.”

He noticed that Kathryn used the diversion to excuse herself from the dining room.

He opened the vellum envelope and scanned the short note from his mother.

“Lord Dalton, I do hope it is not bad news,” exclaimed Lady Dinsmore.

“Not bad, precisely, but I must leave for Rye first thing in the morning.”

Charity chimed in before her mother could stop her. “Leave tomorrow? Again? What about the party? The invitations have gone out! What will my friends think?”

“I am sorry, Miss Charity, Lady Dinsmore, but my steward informs me there is an urgent matter I need to address.” He watched the two fallen faces before him and felt guilty about the expense they had gone to for the affair.

“I shall not spoil your plans, Lady Dinsmore.” He purposely avoided the eyes of her daughter. “I need only spend one night away to handle a few matters. I shall return the day after tomorrow. I still have plans to find the last two horses I will need.”

Charity clapped in delight like a schoolgirl. He had no doubt she thought his return had something to do with her. He moved his chair out of the way and rolled his eyes as he left the room.

As he started for the staircase, Kathryn appeared before him, shoulders squared and a fire in her bearing.

“My lord, I beg a word with you.”

“Very well.”

“I do not wish to make a
public
scene here in the hallway. Will you attend me in the small drawing room?”

He motioned for her to lead the way.

She went to the fireplace and took off her spectacles as she turned to face him. He was, in truth, astonished!

“I have little time, my lord, as you well know, but I have had enough. I want to look you in the eye and tell you if you
ever
do anything like that again, I vow I will give this up. I will go to Lady Dinsmore myself and tell her the truth, no matter what the cost to those children. What you just did had nothing to do with them.