not let me down.’
‘No, my lord, of course not. It is merely a little breezy out here, it must be making my eyes water.’ He rubbed hastily at his eyes and was once more the impassive butler. ‘We must not detain the lady out here, my lord, if I may say so.’
They passed into the hall, the footman closed the doors behind them and Katherine found herself gaping like a tourist at an exhibition. The ceiling was high above them, the room a double cube of white marble, watered blue silk walls and massive paintings. A tall man was coming down the stairs. He stopped at the sight of the new arrivals, then, with a cry of ‘Nick!', flung himself down the remaining flight.
There was no mistaking who he was. Younger than his brother by perhaps five years, brown haired where Nick verged on the raven, lanky where his equally tall brother was hard with muscle, he was still unmistakably the brother Nick had spoken of with such affection.
‘Robert!’ Katherine drew back as the two men embraced, a torrent of questions and half-completed sentences tumbling from Robert’s lips.
‘I beg your pardon, madam.’ It was the butler. Hernshaw? No, Heron, that was it. ‘I am afraid their lordships will be somewhat preoccupied for a few minutes. Have you luggage, madam? This will be your abigail, I assume?’
She pulled herself together. Few things in any house of rank were as important as to make a good impression on the upper servants and she was not going to let Nick down, however much she trembled inwardly at the shocking surprise he had sprung upon her.
‘Thank you, Heron. Yes, this is Pilgrim. My man has taken the carriage with the luggage round to the stables.’ She drew a deep breath, then said with a pleasant smile, ‘I collect that my husband’s message did not arrive to warn of our coming?’
The poor man had received more shocks that morning than were fair to inflict upon an elderly family retainer and she admired the manner in which he kept all traces of his reaction from his face. Only his eyes widened perceptibly. ‘My lady. Welcome to Seaton Mandeville. I deeply regret that we could not assemble the full staff as is only fitting to receive the new marchioness.’
There, he had said it, the thing that she had been refusing to think ever since the dreadful certainty of who Nick was had come to her on the steps. She was, it seemed, a Marchioness. A temporary Marchioness. Somehow she must keep this bizarre conversation going until Nick was able to rescue her. ‘Under the circumstances that is quite understandable. I shall look forward to meeting them all later.’ Could the butler see the terror in her eyes? How many staff could this palace possibly require? Hundreds, she supposed. Around them other staff were gathering, ostensibly to assist the new arrivals, but quite obviously agog at the unexpected return of the heir of the house.
Mercifully Nick was turning, his arm still across his brother’s shoulders. ‘Robert, I have the honour to present you to my wife. Katherine, my brother, Lord Robert Lydgate.’
She kept her eyes from Nick’s face, knowing it was unlikely she could hide the mingled reproach and fear in them. Instead she dropped a neat curtsy to his brother. ‘My lord. I have heard so much about you from Nicholas.’
‘Robert, please, and I hope I may call you Katherine.’ He strode forward, suddenly so like Nicholas that her breath caught in her throat. ‘And I trust I may kiss my new sister.’
The kiss was a firm but chaste pressure on either cheek and Katherine found herself smiling up at him gratefully as he held her at arm’s length to study her. In the same way as Nick had made her feel safe in Newgate, this young man, so like him, was making her feel less unsure in this equally frightening new environment. ‘Nick always had the best of good taste. Welcome to our home. I hope—’
The voice that cut across Robert’s was calm, beautifully modulated and reduced the small crowd to immediate silence.
‘Heron, it appears that I have received visitors of whom I was unaware. How could that be, I wonder?’
‘Your Grace, I was just coming to announce them.’ Katherine saw the stain of colour on the butler’s cheeks and turned to regard the newcomer from under level brows. It did not take Heron’s words to tell her who was standing in the open doorway regarding the scene, a book in one hand. She had imagined her new father-in-law as Nick in forty years’ time and had not been mistaken. But this was not the patriarchal farmer she had imagined.
Nick himself had gone quite still, except to reach out a hand and take hers. She squeezed his fingers briefly and drew her hand away; she needed all her wits for this encounter and the touch of Nick’s warmth was more a distraction than anything.
Robert appeared immune to the prevailing atmosphere. ‘It is not visitors, Father, it is Nick, safe and sound at last.’
Around them servants were melting away, leaving only Heron and Jenny standing behind Katherine.
‘We will retire to the library. Heron, some refreshments, if you please.’ The Duke turned on his heel and re-entered the room behind him, leaving Katherine with an impression of immaculate and fashionable tailoring and an air of precise elegance.
‘Kat,’ Nick began, ‘I will explain later …’
Katherine regarded him levelly. ‘You certainly will,’ she said with feeling, then put up her chin and concentrated on making her entrance through the door, which Robert was holding for her, with as much poise as she could conjure up.
She found herself standing directly in front of the Duke, who regarded her with no sign of emotion. ‘Good day, madam. You are welcome. No doubt one of my sons will have the grace to introduce you presently.’
‘Sir, I have the honour to present to you my wife, Katherine.’ Nick addressed his father for the first time and, to her lasting admiration, managed to sound both unapologetic and perfectly polite.
‘Your Grace.’ Katherine dropped her very best curtsy and rose to meet the older man’s eyes calmly. It appeared that she had met with some approval, for he bowed slightly in acknowledgment and stepped forward to take her hand. To her amazement he kissed her cheek, a chilly touch to be sure, but still more than she had expected.
‘Then I must welcome you both to the family and to this house,’ he said gravely. ‘Am I to thank you for my son’s return?’
‘Thank you, your Grace. I understand that Nicholas was already planning to return before we met.’ She should say something about the status of their marriage, she knew it, but a cowardly reluctance dragged at her tongue.
‘Please, sit, Katherine. Have you had a long journey?’
‘Your Grace, you are most kind.’ No, she could not sit, could not be accepted by this terrifying old man under false pretences. ‘But I must tell you that you should not be welcoming me to your family.’ Beside her she heard a sharp hiss of indrawn breath from Nick and hurried on. ‘I married your son because he was gallant enough to do so to save me from very difficult circumstances. We intend to seek an annulment at the earliest opportunity.’
‘Indeed?’ The dark brows, so in contrast to the steel grey hair, rose in exquisitely controlled surprise. ‘Am I to understand that my son is unable to perform his marital duties?’
Chapter Thirteen
Katherine felt the hot blood rise in her cheeks and bit the inside of her lip. She was not going to be cowed by this terrifying old man.
‘Sir!’ At least she now knew what it took to break Nick’s control.
Her blushes under control, Katherine shot him a quelling look and sank into the chair the Duke had offered her, glad of the moment’s distraction to recover her poise. ‘I have no information on that subject, your Grace,’ she replied icily. ‘From the beginning this has been a marriage of convenience and one intended to be of short duration. Very short. You will, doubtless, wish to know with whom