Page 69 of Return to Satterthwaite Court

“How long were you listening?” she asked quietly.

“Not as long as you were,” Charles replied, equally quiet. He had no desire to draw attention to their presence. To be found here, alone with Kate at this hour, would do neither of them any favors.

He stood by the cold hearth as she found a box of friction matches and moved to light a candle.

“How much did you overhear?” she asked.

“Enough,” he said.

She set the candle on the mantelpiece. The flame flickered in the draft from the empty hearth. “Enough to believe I’m illegitimate?”

Charles was silent. He’d been too long from England to be aware of the latest society gossip. If there was some scandal associated with Kate’s birth, he hadn’t yet heard of it. Until he did, he saw no point in jumping to conclusions.

“It isn’t true,” she said before he could answer. “I’m perfectly legitimate. My brother James was referencing a different kind of illegitimacy.” She exhaled an unsteady breath. “If you must know, he was talking about the title.”

His gaze sharpened. “Your father’s title?”

She paced to the center of the anteroom, her figure all but disappearing in the darkness. Only the rustle of her skirts betrayed her continued agitation. “There have long been rumors that my father was born on the wrong side of the blanket. They’re perpetuated by another claimant to the title—a very distant cousin of his. It’s largely sour grapes, but…the truth is…the rumors aren’t wholly unfounded.”

“I see.”

“You can’t possibly.” She continued pacing. “My great-grandfather had a reputation as an adventurer. And his son, my grandfather, was a known rogue who even turned highwayman for a time. It was quite the scandal, made worse by my own father having spent most of his life abroad. When Papa finally returned to England, he was a man grown. Many people claimed he was an imposter. Never mind that he looked exactly like his father and his grandfather before him.”

Charles remained by the fireplace, unmoving. “Malicious gossip, then.”

“That’s all it is.” Kate returned to him, coming to a halt in the small halo of candlelight. Her arms were folded at her waist. “It’s still enough to cast a shadow over my father’s claim. That and the fact that his mother was of low birth. She was a maidservant, if you must know.”

“Ah.” It was, objectively, a shocking detail. One that might understandably be a source of personal mortification. To Charles, however, it was nothing very horrifying.

He’d been raised to give more weight to a person’s character than to their pedigree. It was a precept instilled in him by his parents. One that had only been strengthened in adulthood. Some of the best men he’d known in Her Majesty’s Navy had been of dubious birth.

He contemplated a suitably reassuring reply.

Kate didn’t seem to require one. “You can’t imagine what it’s like,” she went on in the same agitated tone. “If any of us ever set a foot out of line, that’s what it’s blamed on. On the fact that my grandmother was no better than she ought to be. It should be ancient history, but no one has forgotten. It’s why my brothers must marry well. It’s why I must marry well.”

“To a gentleman with a title.” That small detail hadn’t escaped him.

She didn’t deny it. “Ideally. As far as my family’s concerned, that’s always been the goal.”

Charles had already discerned as much from what her father and brothers had said. He didn’t require it to be made any plainer. Kate required a titled husband. Anyone else was merely a momentary diversion—someone with whom to while away the winter while she was consigned to the country.

He’d long suspected this was a game to her, and here at last was proof of it. Her own brother had confirmed it. Kate had been amusing herself with Charles. Indulging in a flirtation as surely as she might indulge in a game of whist or a wager at the races.

A strange stillness settled into Charles’s veins. Having his suspicions confirmed shouldn’t be surprising. It shouldn’t hurt.

But it did.

“A titled husband is indeed a worthy goal,” he said at last. “I wish you luck in your pursuit of him.”

* * *

Kate wasn’t so vain as to imagine that Charles would be devastated to hear of her family’s aspirations for her. His lack of reaction to the news was no less vexing. “Is that all you have to say?” she asked.

He stood by the fireplace, gazing down at her with the same impenetrable frown he’d often worn before coming to stay at Beasley Park.

But no.

She realized suddenly that it wasn’t the same at all.