Gabriel Stone sat down next to Kate and gave a snort of laughter. ‘I would pay good money to see the Marquess of Avenmore billing and cooing.’
Kate kicked him sharply on the ankle.
‘Ouch,’ he murmured. ‘My dear Lady Allundale, if you wish to flirt, might I suggest that firstly you caress with your delightful foot and secondly that we do it away from your husband’s jealous eye? I have no desire to face him at dawn. The man is too good with a firearm.’
‘Oh, stop it,’ Kate whispered back. ‘I do not want to flirt with you, Lord Edenbridge, and you know it. Kindly do not tease the marquess.’
‘Why ever not?’ He turned his wicked smile on her. ‘Teasing Cris keeps him human. He’d be too perfect to be true if we didn’t.’
‘He has feelings,’ she said vehemently. ‘Even if you do not.’
‘Ah, Lady Allundale, just because you are in love, you do not need to wish the affliction on everyone.’
‘It is not an affliction,’ Kate snapped.
‘No?’ The dark, knowing gaze moved from her to Grant, who was engaged in an energetic argument with Alex Tempest at the other end of the table. ‘If you say so, sweet Kate, I must believe you.’
Infuriating man. Kate passed Gabriel the bread and butter with more force than elegance. He knows I love Grant. Which means if both Tess and he can see it, then Grant must be able to see how I feel, as well. On the other hand, she mused, pushing a slice of cold chicken around her plate, perhaps Grant doesn’t see, any more than he and Lord Edenbridge can perceive that Lord Avenmore is suffering.
She was making herself dizzy, going in circles. Kate made a superhuman effort, pushed all thoughts of her marriage to the back of her mind and enquired about Lord Edenbridge’s family home in repressive tones that managed to curtail even his tendency to tease.
*
‘We need a builder,’ Grant said a week later as they stood and waved goodbye to the three carriages.
‘Not an architect?’ Kate shifted Anna into a more comfortable position and kept an eye on Charlie, racing down the drive for a last wave to his favourite ‘uncles’.
‘No, the sketches we did will be enough for a good joiner to work from.’ Grant turned back to the house. ‘I thought to ask Wilson to sort all the personal items from the bedroom. The gowns, perfume bottles, the curtains, all of that kind of thing will go anonymously to charities in Newcastle for them to sell.’ He hesitated. ‘There’s a miniature of Madeleine. Should I give it to Charlie now, do you think, or wait until he is older?’
‘Now, I think.’ Kate moved close to his side. ‘You remember that tomorrow I have a number of ladies visiting for tea? I met them at Mrs Lowndes’s charity sewing circle. Some of them are bringing children with them, which will keep Charlie occupied. That will give Wilson the opportunity to tackle the room.’
She stopped in the doorway and called to Charlie, who came racing back with Rambler, the elderly pointer, at his heels. The secrets and ghosts would soon be gone from this house and from Grant’s heart, driven out by sawdust and hammering, plasterers and cheerful, noisy builders. Summer was coming, the valley was blossoming and her children were, too. Her husband seemed happy and she was learning to live with loving him in secret.
Christmas, and London, were a very long way away, Kate thought as she turned back to the hallway and her waiting husband. A long way. Grant would see how happy they all were here and it could only get better. When autumn came he would not want to leave this place for the dirt and noise and artificiality of London.
She held out her hand and he took it and, as he bent to kiss her, there was nothing but warmth in the green eyes that smiled into hers.
November 23—Abbeywell
‘Lady Mortenson is holding a party and we are invited.’ Kate waved the letter in Grant’s direction.
‘What date is it?’ Grant looked up from the copy of the Times that was folded beside his plate.
‘The eighteenth of December.’ Kate spread damson preserve on her toast and passed her wardrobe in mental review. She would definitely need a new gown and probably some evening slippers, as well.
‘That’s a pity, we’ll miss it.’ Grant was still intent on the Parliamentary news.
‘Why?’
‘We will be in London by then, of course.’ He looked up as if surprised she even had to ask.
‘London? But you never said anything about London.’
‘I most certainly did.’ Grant tossed the newssheet aside. ‘When I came back in May I said we would have the summer here, then go back to London.’
‘After Christmas.’ Somehow she stopped her voice rising to a shriek. ‘You said after Christmas.’
‘Yes, but the building work is proving far more disruptive than we thought with all the work they are doing on the chimney flues.’ He was using what Kate thought of as his husband being reasonable voice. It usually amused her, especially as she won half of the battles that necessitated the use of it. Now she dropped the toast, jam-side down, on to the plate and stared at him as he continued, just as reasonably. ‘We can’t use half the downstairs rooms because we can’t light fires there and the house is getting colder and colder. And you said yourself only the other day that it is making a lot of work for the staff, trying to keep all the dust under control. If we weren’t here, they could shut up all the rooms, put dust covers on the furniture, retreat into the warm part and let the builders get on with it. I thought we could go down next week.’