‘Come and sit,’ said Emily. ‘I believe you have already met my husband, Lord Blackmore. Call him Freddie, everybody does.’
The tall, dark-haired man, whose pocket watch Young Pete had so easily stolen, was smiling kindly at her. He was charming despite his lack of street sense and Emily seemed equally as pleasing, if not more so. Telling her brother she was fine with him disappearing to America for months, possibly years, might not need to be as much of a lie as she had initially feared. ‘And you also met my brother-in-law, Mr Edward Dashworth.’
Kate turned to greet the man with whom her brother had been dealing and whom she had not met. Her smile froze. Wider than his older brother, Edward Dashworth was a towering presence in the corner of the room, scowling at her like she had committed a terrible crime. A chill crept down her spine at his glare. Shuddering, she turned away from him and back to Countess Blackmore, who was still smiling as if nothing were amiss, and maybe nothing was. Kate was almost expecting to be treated badly, so perhaps she had read the situation wrong. She risked another peek. No, the man was still glowering at her.
‘No,’ said Mr Edward Dashworth. ‘Miss Hornel and I did not have the pleasure of meeting.’ The tone of his voice suggested meeting her now was akin to a fork scraping discordantly across an empty plate.
It did not matter if the man liked her or not. She was going to be living at his home because it was the last option available to her. Chorley had tried to destroy her with his cruel words, but no one would do that to her again. If Edward Dashworth did not like her, he could go and boil himself in butter for all she cared. Now that she had seen the size of the dwelling, when Emily did not have need of her, she could tuck herself into a corner and could probably go a whole day without seeing anyone. The social girl she used to be before life had shown her its ugly side barely even raised a protest at the thought.
The two other men in the room were Mr Christopher Dashworth, the youngest brother of the family, and the Duke of Glanmore, the austere owner of the room. Both men seemed polite if distant. The meeting creaked on. Simon asked questions as to where she would stay, how long they would be willing to provide accommodation for her and what realistic expectations they had of him finding out anything while in America, since it had been years since their brother’s death. Keeping her head bent, staying silent, she studied her fingers as much as anything else. Every now and then she felt the weight of Edward Dashworth’s stare against her skin. But as she was not looking at him, it might have been a figment of her imagination.
‘Shall I show you the rooms that will be yours should you choose to stay?’ asked Emily, after an age. ‘You will have a bedroom and sitting room, so you will have plenty of space to call your own.’
She risked another look at Edward Dashworth. He was still not smiling, but at least he was no longer frowning in her direction.
‘I would like that very much, My Lady,’ she said warmly, because Emily appeared to be a delight even if one of her brothers-in-law looked like he would like to wipe her from the Earth. Edward Dashworth probably did whatever gentlemen of his station did all day anyway, whatever that might be; drinking, fencing, gambling, she could not begin to guess. The point was that she need not see him very often.
‘Would you like to join us, Mr Hornel?’ asked Emily.
Simon glanced at the Dashworth brothers and then at her. Smiling slightly, Kate hoped she conveyed that she did not mind what he chose to do. Even if these rooms were located in the servants’ quarters, she had no doubt that they would be better than what she was used to, especially over the last few months.
‘Please take all the time you need, Mr Hornel,’ said Edward Dashworth, sounding human when addressing her brother. ‘If you are satisfied with the rooms provided for your sister, we can finalise terms then.’
Kate kept her smile in place, even as she bristled inside. If everything were equal, Edward should appreciate that it was her decision whether or not the rooms were adequate, but it was unlikely the arrogant man thought a woman’s opinion mattered.
‘Shall we?’ Countess Blackmore gestured to the door. ‘And please do call me Emily. If we are going to be living together, I hope that we will become friends and friends do not call one another by their titles.’
‘I should be delighted. And in the same spirit, please call me Kate. It’s short for Katherine but I prefer it.’
Emily beamed at her and turned towards the door. Before leaving, Kate risked a final glance at Edward. He was still scowling at her, as if she had done him a terrible wrong. For a long moment, she looked back, determined not to be cowed by a man who gave her such a brazen stare of hostility. It was a win when he was the first to look away.
Chapter Three
Edward stared at the closed door, waiting in silence until he could no longer hear the voices of those who had just left. When he was sure they were not about to be interrupted, he turned slowly to look at Freddie, who had the nerve not to look scared for his life. ‘You absolute bastard.’
Freddie pressed a hand to his chest as though gravely wounded. ‘What have I done to deserve such censure from my beloved brother?’
Next to the traitor, Christopher grinned broadly. Tobias turned away, gazing out of the window either to hide his own amusement or because his brothers’ antics were beneath him. It was hard to tell.
‘You know exactly what you have done. “My wife needs a companion. Oh, do say your sister can come and live with us.” You are a damned…’ Edward paused, trying to come up with a curse word that truly summed up his fury.
‘I take deep exception to you imitating my voice at such a high-pitched level. I sound nothing like that,’ Freddie, the devilincarnate, responded as he adopted a ridiculously wounded expression.
‘You asked Freddie to help you,’ Christopher, the traitor, weighed in. ‘You have been trying to get Simon Hornel to meet with us for months and today he is here in our house after Freddie suggested an excellent solution to their problem. They will not find fault with the rooms. Emily and Freddie spent almost all of yesterday getting them ready. The signs are pointing to him being willing to help us. You should be thanking Freddie, not glowering at him like you are moments from ripping off his head.’
Freddie leaned forward, hand to chin, a fake frown across his forehead. ‘What exactlyisthe problem, Edward?’
‘You know damned well, so do not pretend otherwise.’
He and his brothers had never been close, although their forced proximity over the last few months was gradually changing that. Even so, they would have noticed his taste in women. It was like Miss Hornel had stepped out of his favourite Botticelli painting with her dark red hair and generous curves. If he’d seen her across a ballroom, he would have charged over to her not caring whom he shoved out of the way to reach her side. He would have begged her for a dance and delighted in getting to know her. He would have wanted to know how she got that tiny scar at the base of her neck, to find out what was causing the tightness in her eyes. But this was not a ballroom. This was his house. The one he could not leave because to do so would break the terms of the will his late brother created. He would rather burn in a thousand Hells than let his beloved niece go and live with Miss Dunn. So, he was stuck here.
If he were a cad who did not care, he would still set out to woo Miss Hornel, or Kate as she preferred to be called, but she would be living under his protection and that made the dynamic wrong.
When he’d been young and desperately green, he’d fancied himself in love with a maid. The details were blurry with the time that had passed, but he remembered he had been convinced that Bridget welcomed his attention. One magical day, they’d shared a kiss. The first time he’d ever been close to a woman. Even the clashing of teeth hadn’t taken away from the marvel of it. Like a fool, he’d pictured them running away together, had imagined a life of happiness despite their vastly different backgrounds. Sometime later, he’d heard her discussing the kiss with another maid. They’d been laughing at his clumsy eagerness until his beloved had uttered words that had changed him, voicing the belief that a dalliance with him might get her a few trinkets and some more coins in her pocket. The devastation had been as awful as the humiliation he had experienced when, shortly afterwards, Tobias had spoken with him about the vast imbalance of power the Dashworths had with those who worked for them. It was not a line Edward had crossed since.
Not only that, Edward understood what it was like to live under a strong, domineering presence that could control your life, and he would not subject anyone to that. Living in such close proximity to a woman who looked as though he had just conjured her from his favourite dream and unable to do anything about it was going to be a living hell. Freddie would have realised that when he made his proposition. That was what had made his eyes glitter with amusement yesterday after his visit to the kitchen; Edward should have guessed what was happening before being blindsided by her appearance in the Blue Lounge.
A cushion had toppled over when Emily stood to lead their guests out of the room. Edward straightened it, moving methodically along the settee, arranging everything so that it was neat. ‘This room is a hideous abomination. What possessedsomeone to make it so blue?’ The colour had complemented Kate. He’d tried not to look, he really had, but his eyes kept returning to her like she was his loadstone. The blue had shown off the red streaks that burned like fire in her hair.
