In the Shadow of Arabella (21 page)

“I was suddenly dizzy,” she explained. “I am probably hungry. I had no appetite for breakfast and we are late for luncheon again, are we not?”

“Yes, I am afraid we are. Have you noticed that Mrs. Simpson is no longer preparing delicate perishable dishes for us at midday?”

“Yes, I have noticed. And we can hardly blame her, for we are never on time for the meal.’’

They had taken only a few steps toward the house when Katherine stopped again. After one look at her pale countenance Rudley lifted her in his arms and carried her into the hall. Reeves hurried forward.

“Her ladyship is feeling faint, Reeves. Have Mrs. Windom come upstairs and send one of the grooms for Dr. Bailey.” Appearing outwardly calm, Rudley was nevertheless uneasy. He did not actually believe that simple hunger could make a person faint. He carried Katherine to her bedchamber and laid her gently on the bed. After pouring water into the basin, he dampened a cloth and was bathing her forehead when Mrs. Windom hurried in.

“Mr. Reeves said her ladyship was feeling poorly, my lord. I have brought my smelling salts.”

“She is not unconscious, Mrs. Windom. But I think if we could pull these boots off, she would be more comfortable.” Together they removed the boots and then covered Katherine with a light blanket.

Taking her hand in his, Rudley asked, “How do you feel now?”

“Better, I think.”

“Do you make a habit of fainting?”

“I have fainted only once before in my life. That night at the ball. You remember.”

He nodded. “I have sent for the doctor and he should be here directly. It is probably nothing, but it will be best if he has a look at you, just to be safe.” Bess came into the room then and Rudley excused himself, knowing the women would want to have Katherine undressed and properly between sheets so she could rest more comfortably.

Some time later Dr. Bailey opened Katherine’s bedchamber door to find the earl restlessly pacing the corridor outside. Rudley turned anxious, questioning eyes to the doctor, a worried frown wrinkling his handsome brow.

“You may come in, my lord,” the doctor said. “I have finished with my examination.”

“And have you found anything amiss, Doctor?” the earl asked.

“Not precisely amiss, my lord, but I think I can tell you what has caused your wife to swoon.” Katherine, dressed now in a demure white nightgown and wrapper, had been sitting on the window seat, but as the doctor spoke she rose and took a few steps toward him. “Congratulations, my lord,” the doctor said, a bright smile on his friendly face. “I suspect you are about to become a father again!”

Several tense moments passed while all three stood in silence. Finally Rudley spoke, his voice incredulous. “Katherine is increasing?”

“It is very early still,” the doctor replied, “but I am nearly certain it is what caused her ladyship to swoon. In another week or two, I will be certain.”

Rudley’s glance shifted to Katherine and he saw her staring at the doctor in puzzled disbelief.

“I suspect the fainting is only a temporary problem,” Dr. Bailey said, “and should pass in a few days’ time. Get plenty of rest, my lady, and regular meals, and I am sure you understand you should not ride in your condition.”

Rudley walked the doctor to the door, then returned to confront his still-silent wife. “Have you nothing to say?” he asked. “Are you not pleased?”

“I . . . I just cannot believe . . . How can it be so soon?”

“How do you mean?”

“Does it not take longer? My parents were married seven years before I was born. I assumed it would take more time.”

Rudley led her back to the window seat and sat beside her, taking her limp hands in his. “It is true that in some marriages a deal of time passes before the couple has children, but other times it happens quickly, as it has with us. I believe that in each month there is a chance pregnancy will occur.”

She listened to his words with interest, a look of wonder on her face. “Truly? I never imagined. It is so hard to believe. Just a few weeks ago I was saying I wanted children, and now I will soon be a mother.”

A tentative smile lit her face and tears threatened. “What about you, Ned?” she asked, her hands finally finding life and returning the pressure of his. “Are
you
pleased?”

He smiled. “I would like a son, if you should be kind enough to give me one.” Then, anticipating her next question, he added, “But should the child be a girl, she will be equally welcomed.”

* * * *

The summer months passed in a daze for Katherine. Her husband was more attentive than ever. The servants, already disposed to like their amiable, generous mistress, were pleased that she would be supplying the earldom with a child the following year. Secretly they all hoped for a boy but planned on a little wagering when the time drew nearer.

Pamela, who worshiped her new tutor and immersed herself in learning all he could teach her, was delighted that she was to have a little half brother or sister. Serena wrote regularly from Bath. She was enjoying her stay there but looked forward to joining Katherine in late August, especially now that a child was expected.

Katherine heard nothing from her stepfather (indeed she did not expect to) until one day in late July when a letter arrived from him. She took it immediately to her room and opened it with shaking fingers. He had promised not to write. Why was he breaking his word?

Her mood changed from anxiety to anger as she read his casually worded request for funds. Surely she could spare him a bit from Serena’s allotment. How could she and her sister possibly need the half of it with Rudley paying their way?

Katherine drew a piece of writing paper from her desk and answered briefly. She insisted she would not bend on this point. He had agreed to her terms and she had his promise in writing; he had no right to make demands on her. She added for good measure that this was the last time she would write, and if he wrote to her again, she would destroy his correspondence unopened. She folded the brief message and, without adding any funds (as she always had in the past), sealed it and had Bess hand-deliver it the following day to the receiving office.

Rudley had never repeated his request to know who Sir Humphrey Corey was. Katherine did not think he had forgotten. Perhaps he had decided it was not important. Whatever his reason, she hoped he would never ask.

August was warm and blessed with abundant rainfall, so the crops flourished. Many of the farmers were mowing hay. Since Katherine was not permitted to ride, Rudley had taken to driving her out most mornings in his curricle. One Thursday morning, showers kept the haymakers out of the fields and the earl and his countess from their morning drive. Katherine and Rudley were sitting together in the morning room discussing the merits and demerits of a new breed of sheep he wanted to introduce on the home farm when Reeves entered with a silver salver and offered a visiting card to Rudley. He lifted it from the tray casually, then regarded it with interest. “Show the gentleman in here, Reeves, and send for some refreshments.”

As the butler left, Katherine asked, “Who is it, Ned?”

He noted her reaction carefully as he replied, “Sir Humphrey Corey—a gentleman with whom I believe you are acquainted.”

She rose to her feet, paling noticeably as she took a step toward her husband. “Ned, I—”

She got no further as the door opened again and Reeves ushered Sir Humphrey into the room. Finding her knees suddenly wobbly and untrustworthy, Katherine took a step back to the chair she had occupied a moment before and sank down onto it.

Rudley waited in vain for Katherine to offer an introduction. All color had drained from her face and she sat as if turned to stone. Sir Humphrey genially filled the void with good-natured chatter.

“Well, now, Katy, it’s a fine, beautiful home you have here, that’s for certain.” Turning his gaze to Rudley, he bowed a greeting. “And you must be Lord Rudley. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Sir Humphrey Corey, you know, Katy’s stepfather.”

Rudley bowed in turn, managing through his surprise to say, “How do you do, sir. Won’t you sit down?”

Gordon entered at that moment with refreshments, which gave Rudley a moment to collect his scattered wits. He cast an accusative glance at Katherine, but she refused to look at him.

Sir Humphrey continued, “I can see I have surprised you, but I had to deliver a horse nearby and since I was so close, I decided to stop and see how my little girl went on in her new life.”

This comment brought a response from Katherine, who now raised her eyes to stare at him with contempt. His little girl, indeed! How dare he come here? Gordon offered her lemonade, which she took gratefully, for her mouth was suddenly dry.

“You are awfully quiet, girl,” Sir Humphrey noted as Katherine still had not spoken. “Not feeling quite the thing, I suppose. That is to be expected, considering your condition and all.”

Katherine spoke at last. “My condition?”

“You cannot expect to keep such a secret in our village. The vicar’s wife has been most everywhere telling all who would listen. I suppose she had the news from Lady Harrington. You could have written me, Katy, to tell me yourself. This will be my first grandchild—well, step-grandchild at any rate. But there is not much difference in my eyes.”

Katherine was silenced once again. To hear Sir Humphrey prattling on in this way as if he had ever cared for her! As if he would ever care a whit about any child she bore. It was the outside of enough!

Fortunately, Sir Humphrey chose to keep his visit short. After only ten minutes he rose to leave, saying he must not be late delivering the horse. He added that he was putting up at the inn in the village and would perhaps see them again before he left for home.

When Rudley invited him to join them for dinner that evening, Sir Humphrey declined, saying he had a previous engagement.

When he was gone and the door closed, Rudley turned accusing, questioning eyes upon his wife. His face was nearly as pale as hers. Several moments passed in silence until finally he said, “I do not know what to say to you. I cannot even think where to begin.”

“I should have told you about him,” Katherine said simply.

“Oh, really?” he replied scathingly. “And deprive me of perhaps the most uncomfortable ten minutes I have ever spent?” He was angrier than she had ever seen him. He continued, “You told me you had no living relatives. Was that a ghost who visited with us just now?”

“He is not a blood relative.”

“Do not mince words with me, Katherine. Blood relative or not, he is your stepfather. He should have been invited to the wedding. He should have been consulted about the engagement. Common courtesy demanded that. Why did you lie to me?”

“I did not lie to you. I have been my own mistress since I attained my majority. I did not need his consent to wed. I did not want him present at our marriage.”

“Ah. Now we are getting somewhere. Why did you not want him there?”

“We do not get on. We never have.”

“Not good enough.”

“He is normally crude and despicable, nothing like he was today.”

He frowned as he asked, “He was acting?”

“No. Not precisely. Sometimes he behaves reasonably, but not often. He is not naturally polite, nor congenial.”

“Perhaps you should explain.”

As she looked up at her husband, trying to collect her thoughts, tears filled her eyes. “I do not want to explain,” she said passionately. “I do not want to talk about him or even think about him. He is a part of my past that I wish to forget.”

She raised one hand to her forehead and closed her eyes, looking so pale and shaken that Rudley bit back his next comment.

“I am feeling rather unwell,” Katherine said. “I should like to lie down.”

Looking as if he was far from finished with the conversation, Rudley said, “I will help you upstairs.”

He did just that—went with her to her room and pulled the curtain to shut out the light before going downstairs to the estate office. He found Kendall there, busily working.

“Women are prone to emotional upheaval—fits and starts—when they are increasing, Peter, are they not?”

“I believe so, sir. I have heard it said.”

“I have discovered who Sir Humphrey Corey is.”

“Yes, sir?”

“He is my wife’s stepfather.”

That same day in the late afternoon Sir Humphrey paid another visit to Rudley Court. This time he found his stepdaughter alone.

She almost refused to see him but decided such an action would be cowardly.

The moment the door was closed she said without preamble or greeting, “You promised. You signed a legal document.”

“Now, Katy, my dear, don’t get on your high horse. I was only ten miles away. You really could not expect me to ignore such an opportunity to see you.”

“You have no reason to see me. Our relationship is over.”

Ignoring this remark, he walked to the mantel and fingered the fine Chinese vase that stood there. “I knew Rudley was well-breeched, but I never imagined he enjoyed such wealth. How can you grudge me a little, Katy, when you have so much?”

“You sold a horse today. Did he not bring you a fat profit?”

“Yes, but not nearly enough to buy a stallion up for auction next week. He is exactly what I need to cross on my heavier mares.”

“What happened to the Trojan?”

“Unfortunately, I lost him in a little wager with Sedgewick.”

“You gambled away your best breeding stallion?” she asked incredulously. “You show time and time again that you have not a single ounce of responsibility in your entire being. I will not give you any more money, not one pound, not a single shilling!”

In the estate office Rudley and Kendall finished their work and Rudley went in search of his wife. Usually at this time of day he would find her in the salon. He left the office by its connecting door to the library. He had barely started through the room when he heard angry voices coming from the salon, whose connecting door with the library had been left slightly ajar. Katherine’s was one voice; the other he soon recognized as that of their morning visitor. Sir Humphrey had left his genial tone behind on this visit. His voice was harsh.