Page 68 of Return to Satterthwaite Court

Kate feared that, when he returned, her brother would be in for the scolding of his life.

Chapter Twenty

Later that night, Charles descended Beasley Park’s curving staircase. The distant light from the crystal chandelier illuminated his steps in the darkness. It was half past eleven. He’d retired only a short time ago, bidding good night to Kate in the hall before withdrawing to his room. Once inside, he’d got no further than removing his coat and cravat before recollecting that he needed something to read.

His first night at Beasley Park had been spent tossing and turning, too preoccupied with thoughts of Kate and the business with Satterthwaite Court to get more than a few hours of sleep. Tonight, he didn’t doubt that sleep would prove equally elusive without a book to aid him. It needn’t be anything too riveting. Some dry text on agriculture or philosophy would serve the purpose.

With that in mind, he made his way to the library.

The wall sconces were still lit along the corridor, flickering candle flames casting long shadows over the carpeted floor. Charles had gone no more than a few steps when the sound of raised voices—male voices—stopped him where he stood. And not only that. There was a figure in the hall.

It was Kate.

She stood half-hidden in the shadows, leaning against the wall outside the library doors, listening as her father and brothers argued.

“I warned him to keep clear of her,” James was saying. “I told him he was putting us all at risk. My reputation—”

“You’re not my father,” Ivo shot back. “For God’s sake, you’re only two years older than me!”

“Your brother was right to warn you off,” Lord Allendale said in a voice that cut through the din. “To encourage a connection with that family is a great piece of folly.”

“I’m not encouraging anything. I merely invited a neighbor for a bit of merriment on a cold winter’s evening. We needed another lady for dancing and—”

“Whom do you think you’re addressing, Ivo?” Lord Allendale asked in a tone of perilous calm. “Do you imagine I’m not up to every trick?”

Ivo fell silent.

“Your brothers and sister are of an age to marry,” Lord Allendale said. “I’ll not have the old gossip started up again.”

“Meg doesn’t care about any of that,” Ivo replied. “She’s never mentioned—”

“Miss Burton-Smythe’s father won’t show such forbearance,” Lord Allendale said. “He has no love for the Beresfords.”

“He cares for Mother,” Ivo said sullenly. “He named Meg after her, didn’t he? It follows that he must have some fondness for Mother’s children.”

“My children,” Lord Allendale said. “Your mother’s and mine. Fred hasn’t changed so much in the intervening years that he’d refrain from destroying the lot of you. He wouldn’t view it as hurting your mother. He’d view it as hurting me.”

“If you won’t think of me,” James said, “think of Kate. She’s barely out of her first season and still seeking a titled lord for a husband. She can’t afford to have someone questioning her legitimacy.”

“Kate’s given up on a title,” Ivo said. “She’s interested in Heywood now.”

“She’s toying with Heywood,” James said. “She’ll soon grow tired of him. When she does, she won’t thank you for tarnishing her good name. If you’d given a thought to her—”

Kate chose that moment to turn away from the door. The flames from the nearest wall sconce danced in her eyes, revealing the alarming glint of tears.

Charles’s chest tightened.

His first instinct was to withdraw back into the darkness. He’d caught her in a rare moment of vulnerability and had no wish to cause her embarrassment.

But it was too late.

Before he could move—before he could breathe—Kate’s glimmering eyes locked with his. Her face paled in the candlelight. Straightening from the wall, she came to meet him.

Despite the troubling words he’d overheard, Charles’s first thought was only for her. His voice sank with concern. “Are you—?”

Kate motioned for him to be silent. Catching hold of his arm, she tugged him away from the library, pulling him into a small anteroom near the end of the hall.

The furnishings within were shrouded in darkness. Only the luminous shimmer of moonlight through the cracks in the heavy draperies allowed Charles to see Kate’s uncharacteristically solemn face.