Part 27 (1/2)

CHAPTER Twenty

Kate sat up in the bed she'd been not so much ushered, as bullied into upon her return to Pallton House, and glared at her brother.

”This is absurd. I was plucked from a horse, not thrown from one. I'm not injured, or ill, or even tired. There is absolutely no reason for me to be in bed.”

”And yet you will remain in it until dinner,” Whit ordered, and jabbed a finger at her. ”And return to it one hour after dinner, or I'll have you packed and on your way to Haldon by morning.”

Rather than argue, she fell back against the pillows, and upon the tried-and-true younger sister insult of sticking out her tongue.

Whit fairly growled at her. ”I'm in earnest, Kate. You'll stay. And you'll drink the tea Lizzy's gone to fetch, and the broth, and-”

Mirabelle stood from where she'd been seated near the window and cut him off with a wave of her hand. ”Quit badgering her, Whit. Go help your mother and Mrs. Summers see to Miss Willory.”

Whit's lips pressed into a line. He looked to the door, back to Kate, then the door again. Caught, Kate thought, between protecting his sister and aiding his mother. She might have felt sorry for him, if she wasn't already annoyed with him. And feeling sorry for herself.

All evening in bed when she hadn't acquired so much as a single bruise from her misadventure. A bit of fussing she understood and expected, but Whit's reaction, in her opinion, was excessive.

Whit jabbed his finger at her one more time. ”You'll stay,” he snapped, and marched out the door.

”This is ridiculous,” she grumbled after he left.

”But you will stay,” Mirabelle guessed and took a seat on the edge of the bed. ”Because he was scared half to death by what happened today, and having you safely tucked away for a few hours makes him feel better.”

That was, indeed, the reason she'd stuck out her tongue rather than argue with him. ”It's still ridiculous.”

”It is, rather,” Mirabelle laughed. ”You're a good sister to indulge him, Kate.”

”You'll remind him of that the next time I spill something in his study, won't you?” she jested. In truth, she'd not have given up the argument quite quite so quickly had she not felt guilty for having stayed with Hunter on the beach rather than returning to the house to let her family know she was unharmed. ”I hadn't realized there was such a fuss at the house. Was it absolute panic and mayhem when Miss Willory's treachery was discovered?” so quickly had she not felt guilty for having stayed with Hunter on the beach rather than returning to the house to let her family know she was unharmed. ”I hadn't realized there was such a fuss at the house. Was it absolute panic and mayhem when Miss Willory's treachery was discovered?”

”Contained panic and limited mayhem,” Mirabelle a.s.sured her. ”I came across Lizzy in the hall not long after Hunter left. She informed me of what had happened. I instructed her to send word for Whit, and find Mrs. Summers. Then I sent every footman, maid, groom, and able-bodied person I could find to search for you. Then I went to look for your mother, who I found taking a stroll with Lord Brentworth in the garden. The three of us confronted Miss Willory in her room.” Mirabelle snorted in disgust. ”She has denied everything, for all the good it will do her. Lord Brentworth has instructed her to take herself off first thing tomorrow morning.”

Kate blew out a long breath. ”Do you think she's gone quite mad?”

”I think she's gone quite evil,” Mirabelle replied. ”Lizzy told me that Miss Willory is responsible for more than sabotaging your tack.”

Kate nodded. ”The piano bench.”

”Yes, but that concerned me less than the mention of Mr. Potsbottom.” Mirabelle gave her a hard look. ”Something about him accosting you in the hall?”

”It was nothing.” Kate strove to keep an indifferent tone, as if the incident with Mr. Potsbottom was a trivial matter. ”He wanted a kiss, that was all. Such an unfortunate name, don't you think? Potsbottom. Mother says bottom is common in Yorks.h.i.+re, but-”

”Kate.”

Kate pulled a face. She should have known Mirabelle wouldn't be put off so easily. ”You'll not lecture me for this, Mirabelle. You've kept secrets of your own.”

Mirabelle opened her mouth as if to argue, then closed it again to press her lips into a line. ”I don't care for the fact that you have a point.”

”I'm sure you don't,” Kate replied with a small smile-a very short-lived smile. ”Oh, dear. Does Whit know what Mr. Potsbottom's did?”

”Not as of yet, but...” Mirabelle rolled her eyes. ”Don't look at me like that, I've no intention of telling him. I only meant you should brace yourself for the possibility that he'll hear of it. Lizzy might tell him, or Mr. Hunter.” Kate was surprised to see her friend begin to worry at the counterpane with her fingers. ”Do you suppose it's because I banned her from Haldon-?”

”No.” Kate shook her head adamantly. ”No, I'm certain it's not. The, er, event with Mr. Potsbottom occurred well before that. You're not responsible for this, Mirabelle.”

”Why would she go to such lengths to hurt you, then?”

”Hunter had a theory. He thought she might wish to see me removed as-How did he put it?-the most, um, 'the most eligible young lady in the house,' or something to that effect.” She remembered perfectly that he'd called her ”the most desirable young lady,” but that was hardly complimentary to Mirabelle. ”Miss Willory is in desperate need of a husband. A rich one.”

”Lord Martin?” Mirabelle guessed.

”Initially, I a.s.sumed it was Lord Comrie, or possibly Mr. Potsbottom. Then I a.s.sumed it was Lord Martin. But then then I realized it was Hunter.” I realized it was Hunter.”

”There are few, if any, who are richer.” Mirabelle gave her a speculative look. ”You've spent a great deal of time with him as of late.”

”Well, you've spent all your time with mother and Lizzy and Mrs. Summers. I had to find someone willing to spare a few moments for me-”

”You don't truly expect me to believe that argument, do you?” Mirabelle cut in with a small laugh.

”No, but I've had it prepared for several days. Seemed an awful waste not to use it.”

Mirabelle made a prompting motion with her hand. ”Well, now that you have...”

Kate shrugged, but the casual gesture belied a sudden case of nerves. It wasn't every day a woman realized she was in love. Nor was it every day that a woman lost control of her horse, was rescued by the man she loved, gave her virginity to that man-while they were out-of-doors, no less-and then found herself sitting in bed considering the possibility of explaining her very eventful day-less the giving of her virginity, of course-to her sister-in-law.

She cleared her throat. ”Yes, I have spent time with him, and...and I have enjoyed that time very much. I've come to know him well, I think.” She laughed a little. ”Do you know, before I came to know him, I thought him much too charming, and polished, and entirely too p.r.o.ne to looming.”

”Looming?”

Kate nodded. ”But now I think he's just the right sort of charming, and polished, and...and I've no idea how to make looming into an adjective. Loomy? Loomisome?” She waved the matter away. ”He looms splendidly, at any rate, and I've...grown rather attached to him. Perhaps strongly attached to him. Perhaps more.”

”Are you in love with him?”

She bit her lip, hesitated a moment, then gathered her courage and nodded. ”I am.”

”You're certain?”

”Of course I'm certain.” What sort of question was that? ”He's everything I had hoped to find. And nothing at all I had expected.”

”I don't think any woman expects to find a loomisome man,” Mirabelle commented with a smile.

Kate knew that smile. It meant she was being humored a little. ”You believe I'm being fanciful.”

”Oh, I know know you're being fanciful,” Mirabelle laughed. ”That's not what worries me.” you're being fanciful,” Mirabelle laughed. ”That's not what worries me.”

”Why should you be worried at all?”