Sandra Madden (27 page)

Edmund bounded up the stairs to where she waited.

His expression was solemn. "Good morn, Mistress Kate."

"Good morn, Lord Stamford."

"I see you are prepared to depart."

She nodded, unable to speak. A thick knot blocked her throat.

Edmund dipped his head. There were no words for this parting. Even Edmund had no words. Each thumping beat of Kate's heart roared in her ears as she waited for him to speak.

At last, he did. "I want you to take Percy with you."

"Percy?" She must have misunderstood.

"He will provide excellent protection for you."

"I need no protection."

Edmund planted his feet apart and folded his arms across the broad expanse of his chest. "Do you not recall being besieged by highwaymen on your last journey?"

"I do," she assured him. "But on this journey the duke and his man will be there to protect me."

"And Percy."

Kate forced the sweetest smile she could muster. "My lord, 'tis an extraordinary gift.” She paused to insert a bit of regret into her tone, "but alas, I cannot accept."

"But I insist, Mistress Kate. Just observe how my hound regards you. See his tail wag. Percy adores you."

"He believes I am game he has not yet captured."

Edmund's soothing smile belied the edge to his voice. "On the contrary. Percy would rather be with you than me."

Kate loathed to argue with Edmund on their final meeting. She would never see him again. But the earl's stubbornness left her no choice. She would rather take an adder for a pet than Percy.

“I beg to disagree, Lord Stamford. Percy's loyalty is to his master. And I know how much your bloodhound means to you. I cannot allow you to make such a sacrifice."

"For you, 'tis not a sacrifice but a pleasure."

"Please, keep your hound." Kate could feel the panic rising in her chest.

"He will ride on the coach beside the driver."

" ‘Tis a high perch for a hound," Kate objected. "Are you certain the height and movement will not make him sick?"

"He's a sturdy animal."

Kate started down the steps toward the coach, eager now to be off. Without the hound. "If Percy could talk, I feel he would protest being sent to cold, cold Scotland."

"He should be happy anywhere with you," Edmund declared.

"I fear in a short time he will be in despair from missing you."

Edmund continued as if he had not heard her. "He will obey you on command. There are only three words you need to remember. Sit. Stay. Go."

"Sit. Stay. Go."

"Go, means attack, as well as remove yourself from my sight."

"How does Percy know which to obey?"

"By the tone of your voice and the circumstances. Should you find yourself accosted by highwaymen, Percy will understand and attack."

"I hardly know what to say." Kate felt distinctly faint.

"Words are not needed." Edmund smiled broadly.

"I am overwhelmed by your kindness." She forced what could only be a pathetic smile.

Edmund took a step closer, brushing against her, sending sparks flying from all directions straight to her heart. His voice dropped to but a whisper. "Kate, if you find this new position not to your liking, you need only to send word. I will come for you."

The tears that had all but been forgotten as she and Edmund argued over Percy, began to build once again behind her eyes. She did not trust her shaky voice. "My thanks. My thanks for all that you have done. I will never forget you, Lord Stamford."

Edmund's dark brows came together in a deep frown. "And I you..."

"I wish you good fortune with your outdoor tennis court."

"Are you certain you cannot stay? The first match on the completed court will make an exciting end to the summer." Edmund was at his most charming. He coaxed Kate with promises that shone in his eyes and soothed in his silky tone. "Lords and ladies will come to Rose Hall from miles around. You should not miss it, Kate. I shall be happy to ask the duke to delay his journey." He turned as if he would speak to Donald Cameron at once.

"Stay, Edmund." Kate reached out, laying a gentle hand on his arm. " 'Tis difficult to leave once. I should not like to go through this again. The time has come. Farewell, Edmund."

"Godspeed, Kate." His voice broke.

Lowering her head, Kate dipped into a curtsy so he would not see her tears. With head still down she spun around toward the coach, suppressing the sobs that threatened to overwhelm her. The waiting coachman helped her into the carriage with polished deference, as he might exercise to a member of the gentry rather than the serving class.

When she had discreetly wiped away her tears and steeled herself, Kate looked out.

Edmund scratched behind his hound's ears, setting Percy's tail into brisk motion. After a bit of this, Edmund ordered the animal in a gruff voice, "Go."

Percy bounded forward.

Oh, fie!

Kate had held out hope that at the last the beast would refuse to leave Edmund. But then, having Percy at her side meant keeping a connection to Edmund. Mayhap the hound was better than naught. Perhaps in time she would come to love Percy. Although she rather doubted it.

Edmund turned his gaze from his hound to the coach. His eyes met hers, filled with a sorrow that dulled the usual sparkling green valley depths. Kate longed to jump from the coach and into his arms.

But 'twould be in vain.

A searing pain shot through her. The last thing she saw before closing her eyes and laying her head back on the padded bench was Henry Stanton sidling up to Edmund.

The queen's trusted adviser led his big bay.

Swamped in misery, the Earl of Stamford looked after Kate's departing coach, unaware of Stanton's presence. Edmund's gaze fixed on the carriage as it rumbled down the tree-lined road. His heart constricted in a painful spasm. Had he known Kate's leaving would cause physical distress, he would have forbidden it. He would have locked her up!

"Is the gentlewoman leaving?"

Startled by the sound of Stanton's voice, Edmund spun on the man at his side. "Aye," he snapped, and instantly regretted his rudeness.

"Where does Mistress Kate journey?"

"She has taken another position with the Duke of Doneval."

"I expect you will miss her fair face."

"I expect I will."

But as soon as he spoke the words aloud, Edmund reminded himself he had been abandoned before as a child and had survived. This emptiness he felt would not last. He was popular among his peers; he'd gained many friends and need not feel alone or unwanted.

Thankfully, Stanton kept his counsel as the traveling party of coaches approached the bend in the road. The duke was the only one who looked back to wave before the coaches and wagons that carried their belongings disappeared from view.

Edmund's stomach sank when he heard Percy's farewell bark.

Henry Stanton cleared his throat. "My thanks for a most pleasant stay at Rose Hall, Lord Stamford."

"Are you leaving as well?"

"Aye. I can never be away from court for long."

"You have been a worthy opponent," Edmund said. "I look forward to another match with you."

The adviser's mouth twitched. "As do I."

Edmund placed a hand on the bullish man's shoulder. "I wish you a safe journey. Give my best wishes to the queen."

With a nod, Stanton mounted his bay and was joined by two personal assistants who'd been waiting near the gate. Edmund watched the trio ride out. But he did not truly see them.

The sadness in Kate's eyes haunted him. At least he could take comfort knowing that Percy would protect her. She did not seem to fear the Scottish duke or marauding highwaymen. She had only expressed fear of one man - Henry Stanton.

Stanton. He had ridden out within minutes of Kate's and Doneval’s departure. For a moment Edmund experienced a prickly feeling in his gut. What if Kate was correct in her mistrust of Stanton? For some unfathomable reason, could the queen's adviser be bent on harming the gardener's daughter?

Nay, nay. Such thoughts were foolish. He must rid Kate from his mind. She'd left Rose Hall. She'd left him. She’d left his life.

* * * *

Edmund stewed for days. He missed Kate. Aunt Cordelia had returned to drinking more sack than was good for a woman of her advanced years. She'd also reverted to reciting a litany of physical ailments at every opportunity. And complaints.

Judith Witherspoon had not the knack of rubbing her temples in the same soothing manner as Kate. Neither could the lady play the lute near as well. Worse, his aunt had confided to Edmund, Lady Judith did not seem inclined to leave Rose Hall before summer's end and Cordelia was becoming bored with her company.

Edmund commiserated but could not offer real comfort. He felt poorly himself. He forced himself to rise from his bed each morning. And he'd lost his appetite, both for food and games.

"You should not have given Percy away," his friend Christopher admonished. "You would not feel churlish if he were by your side."

Edmund nodded. He missed Percy too.

He struggled to complete the outdoor tennis court that at the onset had given him such excitement. He practiced for the tournament he'd proposed. Each player contributed to the winning prize. Lord Cheltham had just added one of his Irish-bred horses to the stakes.

After a morning spent at tennis with Christopher, Edmund went off to the stream. He sought solitude, not fish. He sought the spirit of Kate, which might still linger there in the flowers, in the tumbling laughter of the stream.

Whistling softly to keep himself company, he climbed to his castle in the tree. He could see clearly now 'twas but a small ruin of rotting planks. He should not come here again. It was the place of daydreaming and he wasn't a child any longer. Reality had long ago replaced a boy's daydreams. He laced his hands behind his head and leaned back against the broadest, sturdiest board.

Gazing up at the sky, he wondered if the planets indeed held his fate in their motion as Kate believed.

A soft breeze rustled through the leaves. Edmund could almost smell Kate's crisp, lavender scent as he conjured visions of her. Kate's eyes danced before him, teasing him, adoring him, promising him heaven in her arms. The memory of her laughter brought a smile to his face, tugged at his heart.

Lost in reverie, Edmund did not hear the sound of horse hooves until they were upon him. His body tensed.

"Edmund! Are you here?"

Zounds!
'Twas Judith Witherspoon. No other woman had been here with him but Kate. Judith's trespassing seemed somehow unfaithful to Kate. But as Edmund pushed to his feet, he feared for his aunt. He could think of no other reason that would bring Judith into the woods but Aunt Cordelia. Some actual illness had at last befallen his aunt.

"Edmund!" Judith's high-pitched child's voice struck him as doubly irritating.

He peered over the rail. "I shall be down directly."

"Are you up a tree?"

“I shall be down directly," he repeated firmly.

When Edmund jumped to the ground, Judith gawked at him as if he were a monkey in man's clothing. She had dismounted and was tying her mare.

"What brings you here, Judith? And how did you find me?"

"The yeoman of your stable told me where I might find you."

Barnes would do or say anything for a shilling. 'Twas time to replace the man.

"Is something amiss with Aunt Cordelia?"

"No." Judith's blue-gray eyes fixed on his. " 'Tis I who am facing a dilemma."

A bad feeling settled in Edmund's stomach. "Pray, enlighten me,"

"I know not how to say this but plainly." Judith plucked a wild daisy, and as she strolled along the stream, she ripped the petals from the flower, one by one.

Edmund followed a step behind.

" 'Tis time for me to wed. I am past twenty-
one. "

Well past twenty-one years,
Edmund thought.

"As it is, it will take months in order for the banns to be read and the ceremony due me to be arranged."

"I see," he said, knowing he should say something.

Lady Witherspoon was a scarlet woman. Auburn hair and kohl-rimmed, bloodshot eyes gave way to reddened cheeks and lips. Red leather slippers peeked from beneath the layers of her red silk gown. Slippers instead of riding boots!

Edmund feared the lady could not hold her own in a race with him across the meadows.

"I should like your pledge now, Edmund, or I will seek another eligible man to be my husband."

An ultimatum. He felt the blood draining from his face. Damn, it drained from his entire body, leaving him cold. The mushrooms at his feet possessed more vigor than he did at the moment.

"Edmund?"

Judith's crimson lips were drawn tight. Her eyes narrowed on him.

"I cannot talk of this until my tennis court is completed and the tournament ended."

"A tennis game delays the announcement of our marriage?" she squealed on a note that would have certainly caused Percy to howl.

" Tis extremely important," Edmund replied with equanimity, though he was swiftly losing patience.

Being a petite, rather square woman, the top of Judith's head just reached Edmund's chest. He was forced to look down, and she to stretch her neck looking up.

"Methinks your thoughts yet linger on Kate, my lord. I have seen how you look at her. I am not stupid."

Edmund knew dangerous ground when he walked upon it. He stood on quicksand. "My interest in Kate is entirely virtuous."

"Since when does an earl take interest in a gardener's daughter?"

How could he explain the feelings he could not wholly understand himself? "My dealings, er rather, friendship with Kate began before I gained the title of earl."

A friendship. Although he recognized it was unusual for a man to enjoy a friendship with a woman, nonetheless, there it was. Edmund grinned.

Judith raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Edmund, I will make you a good wife. One who will look the other way should you care to dally. But I refuse to wait any longer to be wed. Need I remind you of my dowry and friends at court?"

"Verily, the world knows I am no less than a cad to ask you to wait.”