She stared at him in stunned silence, feeling trapped and guilty. Then, reaching into her reticule, she drew out a neat packet of notes and held it out to him. When he made no effort to take it from her, she dropped it onto the desk.
He had not taken his eyes from her face and now, as she stood stiffly and silently, his voice softened as he continued, “Katherine, please. Sit down.” He indicated a chair several feet to her right. Moving to it, she sat rigidly, folding her hands in her lap. He reseated himself behind the desk. “Katherine, I am not angry with you. I have only two questions. Why do you need such a large sum of money? And why could you not simply ask me for it?”
She glanced up briefly and he could see tears glistening in her eyes. She dropped her gaze quickly, without speaking.
“Come now, Katherine, we agreed we would have no more secrets. Is it Sir Humphrey?”
“No,” she replied vehemently. “I have not heard from him. Besides, I would never give him a penny.’’
“Then why? I am afraid I do not understand.”
“I cannot tell you why I need the money,” she said finally, “and I did not ask you for it because I knew you would not give it to me.”
“Why do you say that?” he asked in surprise.
“Because I know you would disapprove of the use to which it is to be put.”
He stared at her in amazement. “And this explanation is expected to satisfy me?”
She leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk anxiously. “Ned, please, I need this money desperately! You must let me have it!”
“I may yet let you take it,” he said, lifting the bank notes from the desktop, “but first you must tell me why you need it.”
“I cannot do that.” She slumped back into her chair. She was defeated. She had failed Oliver and antagonized her husband in the process.
“So this is where the conversation ends,” he said curtly. “You admit that I will not approve of your use of this money, yet you stand by your resolve to have it. Undoubtedly one of us is a fool, but at the moment I am unable to decide which.” He held the notes out to her. “Here, take the money and keep your secret.” His tone was reproachful.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide with astonishment. “You will let me have it?”
“You have just said you need it desperately. I would prefer to have you confide in me . . . but I will not leave you desperate.”
She took the notes with a trembling hand. Then, no longer able to contain her tears, she managed a mumbled “Thank you” and fled.
* * * *
That evening at dinner Rudley behaved as if nothing untoward had occurred between them. He was polite and solicitous, and his manner increased Katherine’s remorse. She believed he had spoken no less than the truth when he said he was not angry with her. Yet when she retired, she knew she could not go to him, nor was she surprised when he did not come to her.
Early the following morning she dispatched a note to Lady Finley and within the hour had a reply. Her ladyship would call that very morning, she said, and Katherine could entrust the money to her. According to schedule, the countess presented herself in Cavendish Square and conveniently found Katherine alone.
“I have never seen Oliver so keen as he is over this property,” she declared, “unless you consider his captivation with your lovely friend.” She smiled warmly at Katherine. She had been opposed to Rudley’s marriage initially, but she had been proven wrong and was more than willing to admit it.
“When I first offered Oliver the five thousand,” she told Katherine, “he flatly refused it, saying Finley had no obligation to him. But eventually we convinced him to accept it as a loan. I insisted that Weiring had been my mother’s home as well, and I would be pleased to see him there. However, from what he tells me, the place is in great need of repair. The house and the land have both been shamefully neglected. I fear the renovations needed will be a great drain on Oliver’s income. Do not mistake me, I cannot regret his acquiring the place. Indeed, I would not have helped you if I was not convinced that nothing short of Weiring would satisfy him. But if it proves to be more than he can handle, he will be risking his happiness, and I must admit I hate to see him gambling so.”
Rudley entered the room at that moment and Lady Finley deftly turned the conversation, asking Katherine if they planned to attend the Seftons’ ball on the following Friday. The final words of her last subject, however, had not escaped him.
“Serena will be there, but I shall be unable to go,” Katherine answered. “The children and I are leaving early Saturday morning for Lincolnshire and will stay through the wedding.”
“Yes, of course, I had forgotten you were going early,” Meg replied, casting a scornful look at her eldest brother. “I take it you will not be gracing Oliver’s wedding with your presence, Rudley? I have been unable to pry one word from Oliver concerning this feud between the two of you, so I am certain it would be a waste of my time to attempt any explanation from you.”
He raised one eyebrow, answering her with perfect civility. “Quite right, Meg.”
“Permit me to say,” she continued, “that I think you are acting like spoiled children. It is not enough that you are making each other miserable, but you must make life uncomfortable for the rest of us simply because we are unfortunate enough to love you both.”
Katherine could have shouted “Bravo,” for Lady Finley had the courage to voice what Katherine herself had been thinking for weeks but had been afraid to say.
Rudley made no response to his sister’s remark, but taking the poker instead, proceeded to replace a log that had rolled partially onto the hearth.
Lady Finley returned her attention to Katherine. “Well, my dear, I must be going. If I do not see you again before you go north, then I will see you at the wedding. Give my love to Charity.” Katherine offered to accompany her sister-in-law downstairs, and Rudley was left alone with his reflections.
What was it Meg had said? “I hate to see him gambling so.” Was that it? Was Oliver gambling? Rudley could hardly credit it. Yet he himself had seen Oliver at the faro table only a few days ago. Had Oliver acquired debts? Surely he had not lost as much as five thousand pounds. And yet it would be an easy thing for a reckless, inexperienced player to do. Had their argument driven his brother to such a destructive pastime? If this were true, it would explain many things. If Katherine were seeking to pay Oliver’s gambling debts, she would not apply directly to her husband for the money, for he would have refused her, as she had said he would. And if it were indeed a debt of honor, there was no denying it must be paid, hence Katherine’s (or rather Oliver’s) desperate need.
Rudley realized he had no facts upon which to base these conjectures, but if any portion of what he was thinking came anywhere close to the truth, then Meg’s criticism was just. Katherine was caught in the middle—between her love for him and what she felt was her responsibility to help Oliver.
The thing that puzzled him most was how Katherine had become involved in the first place. Surely if Oliver had accumulated debts he would never have approached Katherine for assistance. She must have discovered his predicament some other way, perhaps through Charity. Rudley sighed. Whatever was happening, it was clear that no one had any plans to share it with him, and it was unlikely he would be able to uncover the facts even if he tried.
Determined, however, to at least make an attempt to come at the truth, Rudley set out for Brooks’s. There, during a seemingly casual conversation with his brother’s friend, Peter Everett, he learned that Oliver had only been watching the play that day and not himself participating. Having now had his carefully developed explanation for Katherine’s strange behavior blown into pieces, Rudley was once again at a loss and admitted to himself that the only way he was likely to discover the whole story would be to wait, however impatiently, for his wife to explain.
Three days after her visit from Lady Finley, Katherine received the following note from Oliver:
Dear Katherine,
I have just finished with the lawyers, and everything is finalized. I am now a landowner! The previous owner has already vacated, so I am going down immediately to look things over. I am afraid Ned will not be best pleased to find we are neighbors, but Charity could not be happier.
Oliver
Katherine folded the note and laid it aside. The time had come for her to explain herself to her husband. Now that the sale was final and she was relatively certain there was nothing he could do to interfere, she must tell him how she had used his money and try to make him understand why she had done it. She was determined to speak to him at her first opportunity.
She was not destined to find that opportunity. Rudley was not home for dinner that evening and had still not returned by the time Katherine retired for the night. The following morning she had not yet risen from her bed when he came to her room to inform her that he was departing for Hampshire.
“Now?” she asked, for he was dressed for driving.
“Yes, why not? You are leaving tomorrow, and everything is in readiness for your journey. There is no reason for me to stay on in town. John will be escorting you to Harrington Manor, and you may rely upon him to take excellent care of you and the children. He has also offered to see you safely to Rudley Court after the wedding. I am sorry if my absence will be an embarrassment to you. If anyone should mention it, you may tell them that urgent business has kept me away. They may or may not believe you, but no one would, we must hope, be ill-bred enough to pursue the subject.”
“But must you leave immediately? There was something I particularly wished to discuss with you.”
“You may have ten minutes, but no more, for Henderson is already walking the team. There is a sharp wind this morning.”
Ten minutes! She could never manage to explain in such a short time. She briefly considered asking him to stable the horses but could see he was eager to be on his way. “Ten minutes will not suffice. We had best save it for another time.”
She realized it would probably be best not to broach this particular subject just before they were to be separated for several weeks. There was a good chance Ned would be angry with her for her involvement in Oliver’s affairs, and it would take time for her to fully explain her motives.
He sensed what he thought was her disappointment and offered generously, “Shall I stay?”
She made her decision. “No. You should go; it will keep. Just remember I love you.”
“I am not likely to forget it,” he said, and then, to her surprise, he leaned over the bed and kissed her. Straightening again, he said, “I will be off, then. Have a safe journey and hurry home. I shall miss you, Katherine.” In a few moments he was gone, and for the rest of the day she wondered if she had made a mistake in not having him stay until her story was told.
Charity and Oliver were married in the same church where Charity had been baptized. The wedding was simple and perfect. The church was full to overflowing with family, friends, and neighbors, and if Oliver was disappointed that his brother Edward had not stood up with him, he took care not to let it show.
Katherine and the children left Harrington Manor on the day following the wedding and took the better part of three days to return home. They spent one night at an inn, one night in London, and arrived at Rudley Court early in the afternoon of the third day. Katherine had been away for nearly a month and separated more than two weeks from her husband. Her first view of the lake and the house beyond lifted her spirits.
Alighting from the carriage, the children stopped briefly for a deferential greeting to the earl and then were off, probably to recount their many adventures to whichever of the servants would be willing to listen. John stayed only long enough to partake of some light refreshment, insisting he had promised Fanny he would be home again that evening.
Alone in the blue drawing room, Rudley handed Katherine to a chair near the fire and went to pour her a glass of wine. For several minutes he made polite conversation concerning her journey and then continued in a matter-of-fact tone. “Nurse removed most of Nick’s belongings to Weiring yesterday.” Katherine looked up quickly and he could see that his news did not surprise her. “You knew Oliver had bought the old Ashley estate?”
“Yes, I knew,” she said.
“Why do I get the feeling I helped him?”
“Your sister and I . . . well, we allowed him to think it was a loan from Lord Finley, because we knew he would not have accepted it otherwise.”
“How did he manage it?”
“He borrowed as much as he could and used all his accumulated income. He sold his black horse and his curricle team, and with the five thousand from me he had enough.”
“You amaze me! But tell me. How does he plan to make improvements there? The place has been neglected for years.”
“I suppose he plans to do so slowly, as he is able.”
“Then it will take him a lifetime, for there will be numerous and continuous expenses.”
“He wanted the property desperately, Ned. I am sure he knows it will be hard.”
“Yes. I distinctly remember your use of the word
desperate
in describing your need for the money.”
“Would you have given it to me if I had told you why I wanted it?” she asked.
“Probably not. So, you see, you were right not to tell me.”
“Why
did
you give me the money, Ned?”
“I am not certain, but I suppose it was because I have a difficult time denying you anything.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I love you to distraction.”
“And can you tell me you do not love your brother?”
After a slight pause he said, “You know very well I cannot tell you that.”
“Then, please, Ned, ask him to explain. Do not let this estrangement drag on month after month, as it did with us.”
His brows drew together sharply. He walked away and stood with his back to her. Several minutes passed before he spoke again. “I am doing the same thing again, am I not?” he asked. “Judging without hearing the defense. It seems I cannot learn from my mistakes.”