Read Lady Silence Online

Authors: Blair Bancroft

Tags: #romance, #orphan, #regency, #regency england, #romance and love, #romance historical, #nobility, #romance africanamerican literature funny drama fiction love relationships christian inspirational, #romance adult fiction revenge betrayal suspense love aviano carabinieri mafia twins military brats abuse against women

Lady Silence (30 page)


Enough, enough!” Oxley boomed. “Let us
make an end to this farce. “The chit’s funds are but mixed with my
own investments. The money’s there. I shall make restitution, and
you can scarce blame us for wishing to take advantage of old
Alburton’s bequest. Thought the girl was dead and gone, don’t you
know? Shame to let all that money go to waste.”


We are not yet done,” declared the
colonel over the baron’s spate of excuses. “Our last witness,
Wiggs, if you please.”

The man of perhaps thirty years who walked
through the door was of such obviously noble lineage, his clothing
of the first stare, his arrogant stance second to none, that even
the Hardcastle ladies, though overcome by humiliation, rose to
their feet. As did Emily Alburton, shaking off her son’s hand and
rising from her chair. Katy, thoroughly awed, had been the first
person on her feet. Her lips twitched, however, as she noted how
thoroughly the newcomer was enjoying the moment, raising his
quizzing glass for a leisurely inspection of each person in turn.
His amber hair gleamed above a tawny eye grotesquely magnified by
his glass. After this suitably dramatic pause, he dropped the
glass, allowing it to swing slowly on its ribbon above the gray and
silver brocade of his waistcoat.

Imperiously, he waved them all back into
their chairs. He did not sit in the witness chair. “I am Montsale,”
he declared, standing tall. “Bourne Granville Hayden Challenor. His
Grace, the Duke of Carewe, regrets he is in the gout and could not
attend in person, but I trust I will be an adequate
substitute.”

Oh!
Katy was
not so far removed from the world that she did not know that the
Marquess of Montsale—her cousin, the Marquess of Montsale—was
Carewe’s heir. He had come to Bath.
Because of her.


His Grace and I were uneasy with the
alleged Miss Challenor,” Montsale declared. “Quite frankly, it was
not difficult for Colonel Farr to convince us we must take a look
at his candidate for my cousin Lucinda.” The golden god turned and
bowed to Katy. “And, yes, cousin, I was lurking in the doorway of
the Pump Room yesterday as well.”

Impossible
.
The Marquess of Montsale could not possibly lurk. He would stand
out in any crowd. He must have been peeking through a
crack!


I am here not only to confirm the
family’s belief in my cousin’s identity, but to state that His
Grace has arranged for transfer of her guardianship to himself.”
The marquess turned again to Katy, his voice remarkably gentle and
reassuring for such a dynamic gentleman. “There is no need to fear,
cousin. You will not be troubled by the Hardcastles ever
again.”

As mute as Lady Silence, Katy could only
stare at her golden cousin, who—flanked by Damon and Jonathan
Alburton—crossed the room and proceeded to deal with the
Hardcastles. Their words flew over her head until a soft voice
said, “My dear child, you cannot know how happy this makes me.
Though you do not know me from Adam, I hope you will come to us for
a lengthy visit before settling at Carewe Abbey. We discussed it,
you see,” Katy’s grandmother continued, her faded blue eyes alight,
“and since the duke is in the gout, it seemed a good time for you
to become acquainted with the Alburton side of your family.
Fortunately, the marquess and his father do not seem to be so high
in the instep as the late bishop. So tomorrow you are to come to
us. Can you be packed by noon, child? Dear Jonathan will send our
coach for you.”

Somehow Katy took her grandmother’s delicate
wrinkled hand in hers and said what she hoped were all the right
things, but, truth to tell, for all the wonder of the moment—the
result of a chain of events set off by herself the day she visited
Mr. Trembley—mortifying chagrin was spiraling upward, threatening
to destroy this precious moment when she was taken back into the
bosom of her family. When she discovered that, all along, there had
been relatives willing to shelter her.

If only she had known.

No. If she had, she never would have met
Damon.

The three warriors—Damon, her uncle, and her
cousin—were still clustered in front of the Hardcastles, whose
blustering voices had finally trailed into silence. The countess,
without a single sign that she recalled her companion’s existence,
was attending the byplay more avidly than any presentation at Drury
Lane. Damon and his mother—the only family she had known since that
blustery winter night when she was twelve—were sending her away.
Would they even miss her?

Katy Snow, very prettily, once again thanked
her grandmother for her kind invitation, assuring her she would be
ready when the Alburton coach arrived on the morrow. She was even
so daring as to kiss the elderly lady’s cheek, leaving them both
misty-eyed. And then she fled straight to her room, where she sat
down hard on the edge of her high bed, clasped her hands beneath
her chin . . . and quivered.

Time stood still . . . along with her mind.
She should be in alt. Dancing on air. Instead . . . despite her
genuine gratitude for Damon’s astonishing manipulation of her life,
she was devastated.

They wished to be rid of her.

Farr Park was her home. Yet, without so much
as a “by your leave,” she was to be sent to live with strangers.
Again.

Even though she was no longer a nobody from
nowhere, Lady Moretaine and her son did not want her.

A pounding on her door pierced the skittering
whirlwinds of her mind.

Katy ignored it.

The doorknob rattled. How fortunate she had
locked it.


Katy, Katy! Open this door at
once!”

Damon!


Katy . . . please. You ran off before
I could speak with you.”

The temptation to speak her mind was more
than she could bear. Katy bounced off the bed, strode to the door,
and turned the key with grim decisiveness. The colonel did not wait
for her to open it, but burst through at the click of the lock.
“Katy, I—”


How dare you? How
dare
you?” she hissed. “At twelve years of age I
made the most important decision of my life. It might have been a
most uninformed decision, but it was all mine. I ran away and did
what I had to do to survive. And managed very well, I thank you!
And yet now—now that I am all of nineteen and a woman grown—you
sneak behind my back, allow people to spy upon me without my
knowledge. You turn my life topsy-turvy without so much as a
hint
of warning. You pack me off to
perfect strangers, as if I were nothing more than a lost parcel.
For shame, colonel! I am not one of your troopers—”


Katy!”


No, no, it is my turn now. You have
done quite enough.” Arms akimbo, Katy stood nearly toe to toe with
the colonel. Glaring. “Allow me to tell you that I am pleased to
leave this house. I am pleased to go somewhere I am wanted. I am
most wonderfully happy to have a grandmother, an uncle, cousins . .
. even if one of them is as arrogant as he is handsome. And allow
me to point out that he will outrank you, even if you should become
Moretaine!” she added for good measure before being forced to pause
to draw breath.


May I speak now?”

Katy, huffing, nodded.


I came here to ask you to marry
me.”


Do not be absurd.”


Katy, I did this all for you. It was
to be my special surprise.” Katy’s glare did not waver.


I have known for some time I could not
live without you,” Damon added. Hopefully.


Now
that
,” said Katy Snow, “is truly most
unfortunate. If you had shown me so much as an inkling of your
affection—”


You would have thought my intentions
dishonorable. As I am sure you did on more than one
occasion.”


As I am sure they were on more than
one occasion.”


Cry peace, Katy.” Damon held out his
arms. “I want you for my wife.”

Katy hugged her arms, suddenly aware of the
chill of the room. “I need to find my heritage,” she said at last.
“And give my anger time to fade. I also need to take the time to
decide if you will always ride roughshod over my life or whether
you will love me as a man should love a woman. As a person of
consequence in his life. Someone whose opinion he values . . . and
for whom he will not rearrange her life without consultation.”


Touché
,”
Damon murmured. “And how long will this contemplation take, my Lady
Silence?”

Katy considered the matter with care. “Until
after Drucilla’s confinement,” she announced. “If you are
Moretaine, it is quite possible you will not care to marry the
granddaughter of a wool merchant.”

The colonel’s lips twitched. “I daresay the
Earl of Moretaine can bear to be connected to the Duke of Carewe
and the Marquess of Montsale.”


Beast!”


And just think what I could do with
sixty thousand pounds,” the colonel offered.

Katy launched herself at him, fists
pounding on his chest, only to caught up in an all-encompassing
embrace. “Minx!” he chided softly, when he finally raised his lips
from hers. “Come back to me, Katy, else I am lost, for I love
you
à corps
perdu
.”


I should not say so,” Katy confessed,
biting her lower lip and peeping up at him with a decided sparkle
in her green eyes, “but I have loved you since the moment I first
saw you, staggering down the stairs of Farr Park.”

And if Clover Stiles had not arrived at the
moment to chivy Katy into dressing for dinner, everything Clover’s
active imagination had been conjuring while waiting in the corridor
might well have come to pass.

 

~ * ~

 

 

Epilogue

 

When Drucilla, Countess of Moretaine, was
delivered of a girl, it is said her shriek of rage could be heard
all the way to Bath. The news was imparted to the former Katy Snow
by a letter from the dowager countess. Her fingers shook as she
opened it. Her Grandmother Alburton, even her uncle and his wife,
looked at her in concern as their dear Lucinda’s face clearly
expressed her dismay.


It is a boy then?” Emily Alburton
inquired.


A girl.”


And you are not pleased?”


I . . .” Lucinda smiled. Tightly. “Of
course I am pleased. Colonel Farr will make a splendid
earl.


You do not
want
to be a countess?” asked Margaret, her
sixteen-year-old cousin.


The col—the earl and his mother may
not think the match suitable.”


Nonsense,” declared Jonathan Alburton
in his customary hearty and decisive manner. “I daresay those are
his wheels I hear upon the drive.”


Do not tease, papa. That is unkind,”
chided the young Miss Alburton.

But the astute son of Matthias Alburton, the
wool merchant, was not mistaken. The thud of four matched horses
upon the drive was soon quite apparent to all. By the time the new
Earl of Moretaine had pulled up his horses before the Alburton’s
gracious manor house, Katy was flying down the steps. The
curricle’s thin metal boost that had seemed so high in February
flew beneath her feet as she launched herself into the air. “See,”
she breathed as Damon hugged her tight, “I am naught but a vulgar
hoyden, just as you have always said. Are you sure, sure,
sure?”

An accomplished whip, the Earl of Moretaine
seemed to have no trouble juggling his reins and his darling waif,
enabling him to deliver a most satisfactory kiss.


Bring a special license, did you?”
drawled Jonathan Alburton, who had joined them in the drive, along
with all but the youngest members of the Alburton family. “Doesn’t
look as if you can wait for the banns to be called.”

The earl lifted his head long enough to say,
“In my pocket,” before returning to gaze at his beloved Lady
Silence with all the besotted fervor of a man who has finally
admitted the power of love. “I promise,” he said, looking directly
into her questioning green eyes, “I solemnly promise I will not
forget you are my partner as well as my love. Will you have me,
Katy? Now and forever?”


Now and forever.” Miss Lucinda
Challenor demonstrated her willingness by shamelessly repeating
their embrace as well as his words.

From a window, far above, a cheer rang
out, as young Jeremy Alburton, age eight, expressed his approval.
Cousin Lucy had nabbed an earl.
Hip, hip,
hooray!

 

~ * * * ~

 

 

About the Author

 

Although Blair Bancroft is best known
as the author of numerous Regency novels, she has also been
published in romantic suspense, contemporary romance, and young
adult medieval. Under her alter ego, Daryn Parke, she is the author
of a mystery set at the Ringling Museum complex in Sarasota,
Florida. For more details, please see her websites at
www.blairbancroft.com
and
www.darynparke.com.
She also invites you to visit her blog at
http://mosaicmoments.blogspot.com.

 

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