And his front too, by God.
She might have married Tom Hubbard or one of a number of other suitors she had had when she still lived in Throckbridge, Katherine thought, and lived a worthy life of contentment.
She might have married Phillip Grainger almost any time since she had moved to Warren Hall and lived a worthy life of contentment with him.
But she had held out for that elusive something called romantic love, and now she was to marry Lord Montford, who did not know the meaning of either romance or love. She had no illusions about him. He was incapable of commitment.
And how could she commit herself to a man who did not take life at all seriously? One who was willing to wager that he could make her fall in love with him for the sheer amusement of tackling an impossible challenge? One who thought that physical desire and going to bed with each other were the only ingredients necessary to a good and lasting marriage?
They were pointless thoughts. She was betrothed to him anyway.
In one month’s time they would be married. The nuptials were to be at St. George’s in Hanover Square with as many of the ton present as could be persuaded to remain in town after what would normally be the end of the Season. If she were a wagering person, she would bet that that would be a large number. They would not be able to resist witnessing what they had collectively forced upon two people who had become victims of the vicious gossip spread by one of their own.
What a farce it all was! If it were not also tragic, she would laugh until the tears ran down her cheeks.
Elliott, who had remained upstairs in the drawing room when the others came down to the library, had thought it was best to have a proper society wedding instead of a quiet ceremony by special license. He had said so after they all went upstairs to break the news of the betrothal to him. Stephen had agreed with him. So had Meg and Nessie.
So had Lord Montford.
Katherine had not expressed an opinion. She did not care when or where they married.
She was sitting now, half an hour later, staring into the empty fireplace in the drawing room while her family talked about her with false heartiness. They talked with one another, having given up trying to comfort her and draw her into the conversation. Lord Montford had left.
And then the butler appeared with a visitor’s card on his tray.
Whoever could be calling at this hour, so late in the afternoon? She would go up to her room, Katherine decided, and avoid whoever it was. She had had quite enough for one day. This was surely the final straw.
“Miss Wrayburn is calling with Miss Daniels,” Margaret said, looking across the room at Katherine.
Katherine sighed. There was to be no escape yet.
“Let them come up, then,” she said, and stayed where she was.
Did Miss Wrayburn know about the betrothal? Already? Or had she merely heard about the gossip and scandal?
A minute later she had her answer when the girl came hurrying into the room with a bounce in her step, all bright, happy smiles. She beamed about at everyone, but it was Katherine who was the focus of her attention. She came across the room, her hands outstretched, as Katherine got to her feet.
“Oh,” she said, “I am so happy I could burst. I have never been happier in my life. You are going to be my sister, Miss Huxtable. May I call you Katherine, please? And you must call me Charlotte.”
Katherine took her hands and smiled. Her facial muscles did not seem quite to belong to her.
“I would prefer Kate,” she said. “My family calls me that.”
“And I am to be your family,” the girl said, laughing. “I am to be your sister, Kate. And I will be able to live with you and Jasper until I marry. You will be able to bring me out next year, and I will not have to worry about Aunt Prunella ever again.”
“No, you will not.” Katherine squeezed her hands.
“I am happy for myself,” Charlotte said, biting her lip. “How selfish of me. But I am even happier for Jasper and for you. I have known for ages that you love each other. I have seen it in your faces. I know you are going to be happy forever.”
Katherine merely smiled.
Charlotte released her hands and turned to look about at everyone else in the room.
“We are all going to be family,” she said. “Is it not wonderful? I had to come immediately as soon as Jasper came home to tell me, though Miss Daniels did not think it was quite the proper time to make a call. You will forgive me, will you not? I am almost family already, after all. Next month I will be.”
“There is absolutely nothing to forgive, Miss Wrayburn,” Stephen said. “Do please have a seat, Miss Daniels.”
“We will consider you a part of our family from this moment on,” Vanessa said, getting to her feet to hug the girl. “May I call you Charlotte too?”
“And yes,” Margaret said, “it is indeed wonderful.”
“I am almost glad Clarence has been such a beast,” Charlotte said as she took a seat between Margaret and Vanessa. “Jasper might not have come to the point before the end of the Season, and we might all have had to wait another year before he did. By that time I would have been with Aunt Prunella. Even so, Clarence is a beast, and I apologize to all of you for the fact that he is my cousin. I heartily wish he weren’t. But no matter. Soon I am to have a whole new family.”
Had they all been so young and innocent once upon a time?
Katherine sat down and continued to smile.
Someone was happy, anyway.
At least someone was.
Jasper also had a visitor late in the afternoon-a mere quarter of an hour after Charlotte had gone dashing off to Merton House like a kitten with two tails, in fact. He had not stopped her. This was a strange day for all of them, and if she was filled to the brim with exuberance, then why stop it from spilling over? She would surely be forgiven at Merton House.
He was sitting at his desk in the library, though there was nothing on its surface except pens and ink and a large blotter. He had one elbow propped on the desktop and his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose.
He was trying his hardest not to think. There was no point in thought. It was a useless effort, of course.
It will not be so bad if we choose not to let it be. The expectations of society and our concern for the well-being of our family may force us into marrying, Miss Huxtable, but they cannot force us into being miserable forever after. Only we can do that. Let us not do it. Let us make each other happy instead.
Lord! He ought to hire himself out as a three-handkerchief speech writer. He would have the whole nation awash in sentimental tears.
But the trouble was that he must act upon those words, like it or not. His salad days were over. His wild oats had all been sown. He was going to be that dullest of dull fellows-a married man.
Such gloomy thoughts were interrupted when Horton scratched discreetly on the door, opened it quietly, and was then swept aside by the very visitor he had obviously come to announce.
Con Huxtable strode into the room, obviously in a black humor, looking like grim Greek thunder, and Jasper got to his feet and strolled about the desk.
Con did not stop until his face was an inch away from Jasper’s.
“Do come in, Con,” Jasper said. “No need to wait to be announced.”
Con grabbed him by the neckcloth with one hand and hoisted upward. His face moved half an inch closer so that they were almost nose-to-nose.
Ah. This again.