Kane Samantha - Brothers in arms 1 (7 page)

Veronica smiled at her, and bounced back over to the closet. “See? That wasn’t so hard. And you’ll feel much better when you look better.” She pulled a simple dress of a beautiful sky blue from the hanger. “You look so elegant and beautiful in this dress, you make me green with envy.”

Kate laughed, letting herself be cheered by Veronica’s efforts. “Well, you don’t look bilious. You look divine in that dress. Positively angelic.”

Veronica had gently draped Kate’s dress over her arm. She made a face at Kate’s remark, just short of sticking out her tongue. “Ugh. I don’t want to look angelic. I want to look mysterious and desirable.”

“What?” Kate responded, shocked. She suddenly realized that Very was sixteen now. She had grown up in the last year, and Kate hadn’t even seen it, she’d been so wrapped up in herself.

“Oh, how I long for men to look at me the way Lord Randall and Mr. Richards look at you, Aunt Kate.”

Kate’s protective instincts took over. She may not be Veronica’s mother in truth, but she felt like it in her heart. She had flashing images of her as a little girl, running up to be hugged, and showing Kate and Harry the flowers she’d picked, and the snake she’d found in the garden. How she loved her. She felt her eyes mist over as she looked at the beautiful girl standing before her. The promise of womanhood was on her ripe rosy cheeks and lips. Her glossy brown hair was pulled back in a ribbon, framing her still-plump face and long, elegant neck. The look in her eyes, however, seemed old beyond her years.

“Well,” Kate began, and had to clear the emotion from her throat, “Well, you are not old enough to be mysterious and desirable, and I always find it prudent not to advertise goods you haven’t got.”

“Oh, Aunt Kate,” Very muttered, clearly put out with her aunt’s response.

“Anyway, there’s no one reading my advertisements these days.”

“Thank God,” Kate muttered, as she let Very help her into her dress.

They set out for the shop almost as soon as Kate was dressed. She stopped only long enough to say good morning to Mrs. Castle, her housekeeper who came half a day, and to grab a piece of fresh bread to eat at the shop.

It was a lovely clear morning, the air crisp without being too chilling. The walk invigorated Kate, and she determined to forget about last night and concentrate on the work at hand. She was so busy convincing herself that her shop was more important than her personal life, she didn’t notice Veronica looking around expectantly. Nor did she notice Veronica’s cast-down expression once they arrived.

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The morning and afternoon flew by. Kate spent most of her days designing and drawing the patterns for dresses based on the latest fashion circulars. Many of her clients were more modest than members of the ton, and Kate changed the styles accordingly, keeping the more risqué and revealing styles for special clients. Her modest clients would be scandalized to learn that Kate dressed several high flyers, her friend Kitty included.

She helped cut patterns, but Mrs. Jones, a gifted dressmaker she had discovered almost by accident when she responded to Kate’s employment advertisement, measured, pinned, and sewed the dresses. Kate had been delighted to also discover Veronica’s head for numbers. She kept the books for Kate and made sure the money coming in was always more than the money going out, even if only by a small margin.

The girl had become a ruthless negotiator, and Kate was able to get many of her supplies at cut rates, not that that was reflected too heavily in her dress prices. She was still more affordable than the Bond Street modistes, who affected French accents, and charged more for location and flattery than skill.

By late afternoon, Kate was definitely feeling the lateness of last evening. She was drooping in a chair, glad for once there were no customers in the shop, when she heard the front door open and the little bell chime. She sighed with resignation, and began to rise to greet whoever it was. She froze halfway at the deep timber of a man’s voice.

“How do you do? I am Mr. Anthony Richards. Is Mrs. Collier available?”

“Oh, well, I’m not sure,” Mrs. Jones stammered, unused to having men in the shop.

“I, I can go and see,” she offered helpfully, and Kate cringed, already thinking up an excuse for who he was, and why she could not meet with him. Then a new voice joined the conversation, and Kate knew she was sunk.

“Mr. Richards!” Veronica cried out in delight. “Whatever took you so long? I was beginning to think I’d have to send you a message clearly outlining what was expected of you, as you obviously had not picked up on it last night.”

Kate sat up straighter. So, Veronica’s desertion last evening was deliberate. The little minx, did she honestly think she could manipulate Kate like this?

“Aunt Kate, I know you can hear us. Do come out and say hello to Mr. Richards.”

Obviously she did.

Kate entered the front of the store with as much dignity as she could muster. Her heart was pounding and her breathing shallow as she looked at Tony, images of last night scrolling through her head. Tony’s look contained an answering heat that made the exacting correctness of his greeting almost erotic.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Collier.” He bowed politely, his eyes never leaving Kate, scorching a path from her head to her toes and back again.

Kate felt the flush that flowed along her body in the wake of his gaze. “Good afternoon, Mr. Richards.” He waited, as if expecting further words from her, but she was unsure of what to say, and incapable of further speech as the sound of her own throbbing heartbeat filled her ears.

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The Courage To Love

“Oh for goodness sake,” Veronica exclaimed testily. Then she turned to Tony, and began speaking as if reciting lines from a play. “How may I help you, Mr. Richards? Is there something special you wanted?” It was clear from her manner and her look that these were meant to be Kate’s lines.

Kate gasped at the innocent innuendo of Veronica’s words. Tony smiled slowly at her discomfort, making it plain what he wanted. When he spoke, however, his words were for Veronica.

“I was actually wondering, Miss Collier, if you and your aunt would like to accompany me to Gunther’s for ices this afternoon.”

The look in his eye made Kate imagine all the wonderful things he could do with ices, and her blush deepened. His smile grew apace.

Veronica’s squeal of delight broke the spell Kate was under. She winced at the volume of her niece’s enthusiasm.

“Oh, truly? I would love to go to Gunther’s. And it’s Miss Thomas. Aunt Kate’s sister was my mother.” She turned pleading eyes to Kate. “Please, Aunt Kate? Please?

I’ve never been. Please say yes.”

The look Kate gave Tony was blistering in its condemnation. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Very,” she said slowly, loath to crush the girl’s hopes, and mad at Tony for making her the villain. “I’ve still a great deal of work to do here, and it wouldn’t be right for us to be seen with Mr. Richards.”

Veronica’s face fell at her aunt’s refusal. “But Aunt Kate,” she began, her voice pleading.

“No, Veronica. We both know that going with Mr. Richards will invite talk and speculation that none of us can afford.”

Tony’s smile had also fallen, and now his face was tight with anger. Kate didn’t understand the anger. Surely he didn’t think she was embarrassed to be seen with him?

She was only trying to save his reputation. Being seen with a social pariah such as she would do his chances of contracting a good marriage no good.

She spoke earnestly to him, trying to appease his anger. “Surely you see, Mr.

Richards, that being seen with me among members of the ton can only damage your reputation.”

Mrs. Jones spoke before Tony had a chance. “Here now, what are you talking about, love? A fine figure of woman you are, and as sweet as the day is long.” She began to push Kate toward the door. “Go on, now. Miss Veronica, go and fetch your aunt’s wrap and reticule, and yours too. You deserve a break after such a long day, dearie. You work much too hard for such a pretty young woman. I’ll take care of things here. Go on, now.”

Kate was about to protest, and was digging her heels in to stop her forward momentum when the door burst open. Jason came rushing in, panting as if he’d run a great distance. He came to an abrupt halt when he saw the tableau in the shop.

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“Has she said yes, then?” he asked Tony hopefully, his eyes for Kate alone. “I got here as fast as I could.”

Mrs. Jones seemed nonplussed at the implications. “Oh, well,” she stammered, not quite sure what to say.

Veronica came charging out of the back with shawls and bags, and shrieked with glee at the sight of Jason.

“Lord Randall! Yes, yes, we’re going to Gunther’s. Are you to come too? How wonderful! I’ve never been, and I’m so excited.” She spun around in her excitement, then thrust Kate’s things into her hands. “Come on, then, not a moment to lose. Ices and gossip await us. Oh this shall be so fun! Can I make faces at the ladies who give us the cut direct?”

Jason smiled at Veronica and his own happiness was apparent. He held out his arm to her, and she took it, swinging her reticule and nearly dancing with glee. “Yes, you may, Miss Veronica, and I shall do the same. And then I shall buy you all the chocolate and ices you wish, and kiss your aunt’s hand to make them green with envy.”

His boyish enthusiasm was Kate’s undoing. He was so solemn and serious most of the time, she couldn’t resist him like this, so full of life. She sighed again in resignation and looked over at Tony. He was smiling indulgently, looking from Kate to Jason, and back again.

“Shall we go, then?” he asked her quietly, still giving her an option.

She placed her hand on his arm, the contact causing heat to course through her. The contraction of his muscles as he reacted to her touch caused a similar reaction in Kate, in particular muscles long disused until last night. She looked at him in trepidation, suddenly realizing the peril she was in.

“Yes,” she said unenthusiastically. Tony just laughed and followed Jason and Veronica out the door, calling a pleasant farewell to Mrs. Jones, who was assuring Kate she would close up the shop that evening.

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The Courage To Love

Chapter Six

It took all of Kate’s courage to pass through the door of Gunther’s as Tony held it open for her. Already she had noticed several speculative looks cast their way by the fashionable crowd on the street. In her paranoia she imagined they were unfriendly, even accusatory. In her mind, Tony’s possessive attitude, and Jason’s almost paternal one with Veronica, only exacerbated the situation.

They took a table in the back at Kate’s insistence. The fewer who saw them, the better. Veronica was beside herself with excitement, her head swiveling back and forth as she tried to take in the sights, sounds and smells around her.

“Oh, Lord Randall, who is that?” she stage whispered, staring with big eyes at the small group who had just walked in the door.

All three of her companions looked to the door at her question, but Jason answered her.

“Oh, why that’s Mr. Phillip Neville,” he said, pointing to the tall, blond gentleman leading the party into Gunther’s. He was laughing, and the deep baritone of his voice coupled with his blond, Adonis looks drew the eye of nearly every patron. “And the other gentleman there,” Jason pointed to the shorter, heavily muscled, darkly handsome man with a serious expression who was listening to Mr. Neville, “that is Mr.

Jonathan Overton. They are good friends of ours, from our martial days. I’m afraid I don’t know who the pretty young lady with them is.”

“That’s Miss Margaret Trueheart,” Kate answered, her voice almost too quiet to be heard. “I met her briefly a couple of years ago, before I became too tainted for polite company.” She sounded more amused than bitter. “She was actually a very pleasant girl, rather shy, and I’m afraid she wasn’t taking during her season, perhaps because of her looks as well as her demure personality. I think she is quite attractive, but hardly the blonde china doll the ton so adores these days.” Kate paused, and then her lips curled sardonically. “Ah, and here is the ever-vigilant mama, Mrs. Trueheart. A veritable dragon, for all her daughter didn’t take.” The last member of the party was a thin, unpleasant-looking woman, her face pinched, her mouth in what appeared to be a perpetual frown. There was a vague resemblance to the chestnut-haired, voluptuous Miss Trueheart, but one would hardly take them for mother and daughter at first glance.

Just then Mr. Overton glanced in their direction, almost as if he had sensed their regard. He smiled in delight, and the smile transformed his face, his handsomeness nearly overwhelming. Kate could see the deep dimples on either side of his mouth, and even she felt her heart skip a beat.

“Close your mouth, Kate,” Tony whispered, “you’re drooling.”

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Kate looked at him quickly, feeling her face heat with her blush. She rapped Tony on the arm with her gloved hand. “Oh, hush, I am not. I’m simply admiring a very handsome man.” She smiled coyly. “There’s no need to be jealous.”

Tony smiled back at her light teasing. It was good to see her this way, almost like her old self. “Oh, it’s hardly a need, just a visceral reaction. The way you look at him, however, is not the hot, sloe-eyed looks you give Jason and me, so I shall desist.”

His voice was a mere whisper, yet Kate still looked around frantically to make sure no else heard. “Tony!” she hissed behind her hand. “You shouldn’t say such things in public!”

“Ah, but you don’t deny it,” he drawled lazily, taking her hand from in front of her mouth and kissing the back lightly.

Her eyes met his then, with the hot look he had spoken of, and his indrawn breath was sharp with desire. He glanced at Jason, and found him watching them, his own eyes filled with the same longing. Kate glanced between the men, and for a moment the three were lost in each other’s presence.

They were brought back to reality by Veronica. “Oh, they’re coming over here!” she exclaimed with delight, her pleasure at their advance clearly written on her face. At the sight of her excitement, both young men’s smiles grew larger as they approached the table.

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