His Christmas Countess

‘It is very comfortable compared to a coach,’ Kate remarked to Wilson, who was sitting bolt upright clutching her mistress’s dressing case on her knees and eyeing their fellow travellers with suspicion.

‘Indeed, my lady, although what it would be like on the open sea may be another matter.’

‘Yes, I am not sure about venturing to Margate,’ Kate admitted. ‘I have no idea whether I would be seasick or not.’

But the saloon was comfortable, the company, if rather varied, was respectable enough and the speed was astonishing. Kate looked out of the nearest porthole at the passing river scene and told herself that everything was going to be all right. Henry would be at home and he would see reason about stopping his extortion. He might even be persuaded to pay the money back, although Kate was far less confident about that. But the main thing was to make him stop his criminal activity and write assuring Jonathan that he would hear no more from him.

Then, when there was no longer a crime involved, she could confess everything to Grant and just hope and pray that he would understand. In broad daylight when she was feeling strong, she was confident, but in the small hours, as she lay awake fretting about everything from him working too hard to the loss of his faith in her, she could not help but recall his words.

I am just saying, for the record, that I will call out any man who lays a finger on you—and do my damnedest to kill him. And if your Jonathan had abandoned you and not drowned, then I would go after him and kill him, too. What if he called Jonathan out for failing to marry her? But, heartbroken as she had been at the time, if he had married her they would surely be in an unhappy marriage now, she would never have met Grant—and it was Grant she loved. And Grant who, one day, might love her.

* * *

It was only when the hired chaise was bowling across the flat farmlands around Hawkwell that Kate began to think uneasily about Henry’s reaction. What, exactly, would her brother do with a sister who turned up, exceedingly inconveniently, and threatened to crack the golden egg he was relying on? She had nothing to threaten him with to make him do the right thing and she would not put it past him to lock her in the attic while he thought out his tactics. It was not as though he had ever expressed any affection for her after all.

She had left Charlie and Anna with Jeannie and Mr Gough at the Ship Inn, but she had not told either of them where she was going, which, in retrospect, was not sensible. She had said nothing last night as they settled into the accommodation—now she knew she should at least have taken Jeannie into her confidence. The low-lying pastureland looked sodden and depressing as she stared out of the window, biting her lower lip as she thought.

‘Giles, when I go into the house I am visiting, I will take Wilson with me, of course. I would like you to remain in the carriage. Let the window down a crack and then you will hear the church clock. It strikes the quarters. If I am not out within an hour, or if I do not send you a note with my name underlined, then I want you to go to Mr Gough with all speed and ask him to come here and demand to see me. He is to take no excuses, do you understand?’

Giles looked appalled. ‘My lady, my lord would have my hide if he thought I had let you walk into somewhere dangerous!’

‘It is not dangerous, exactly. I certainly would not take Wilson with me if it were, but the owner may want me to stay against my will.’

‘I’ve got a hatpin,’ the maid said darkly. ‘And I’ll use it. No one will hurt my lady if I have anything to do with it. You do as you’re told, Giles.’

‘Yes, Miss Wilson.’ The personal maid to the lady of the house easily outranked a mere footman. It seemed that Giles was more in awe of her than he was of his mistress. ‘I’ll listen, like you say, my lady, never fear.’

Kate felt easier with some precautions in place, even though she was probably being completely melodramatic and the worst that might happen was that Henry would laugh in her face and throw her out. And if that happens, she resolved as the chaise drew into the courtyard in front of Belchamps Hall, then I am telling Grant everything.

Leaving Giles anxiously listening for the clock, Kate marched up to the front door and beat a tattoo with the knocker. The heavy oak door creaked open and she found herself face-to-face with Claridge, the butler.

He said stolidly. ‘Yes, ma’am?’

‘Claridge, do you not recognise me? Miss Catherine.’ She took a step forward as he gaped at her. ‘Where is Sir Henry?’

The butler gave way before her, but he still looked utterly taken aback. ‘In...in his study, Miss Catherine. But—’