Silk And Steel Part 22

Bennie looked to Lucien, who simply nodded. "I'd say now's as good a time as any."

"Right enough!" Michael said, jumping up and down.

Kathryn watched the boy race off with Bennie as if they were long-lost friends. The child had never been shy. Michael had been born among strangers and, for the last seven years, they had been his life, his family.

She shifted her attention to Lucien. "You've been wonderful to Michael. I wanted him out of that place and safe. In truth, I never really expected you to welcome him so completely."

His dark gaze followed the boy. "He's an easy child to like. Tomorrow I'll arrange for a tutor so that he can begin his studies."

Kathryn smiled. "Believe it or not, he'll be pleased. Michael craves learning. He's fascinated by everything new he sees."

"So I've noticed." They turned and started walking, Lucien's hand at her waist as they stepped out from below the loft. The instant they reached the edge of the overhang, Kathryn heard Michael's high-pitched scream.

"Me lord! Look out!" The child was running madly, trying to reach them, when Lucien looked up. Coming straight at him, the heavy iron hoist had snapped free of its rope and crashed down toward his head. Lucien slammed into Kathryn, knocking her out of the way, and both of them were hurled to the ground.

"Me lord! Me lord!" Michael reached them, Bennie Taylor at his heels, skidding to a halt just a few feet in front of them. "It nearly hit ye! G.o.d's eyes, it nearly kilt ye!" The child was shaking and so was Kathryn.

Lucien climbed to his feet, brushing dirt and straw from his coat and breeches. "Are you all right?" he asked Kathryn as he helped her to stand.

"I-I'm fine. Just a bit shaken up, is all." But she continued to tremble and so did Michael. Lucien reached down and picked the child up, holding him gently against his chest. "We're all right. Thanks to you, Michael, both of us are fine."

The boy's small arms slid around Lucien's neck. He buried his head against the marquess's shoulder. Michael had never had a father and it was obvious he had already adopted Lucien. Kathryn felt a painful tightening in her chest.

"It's all right, lad," the marquess soothed. "It was an accident. Sometimes those things happen." He set the boy down and Kathryn drew the child against her skirts while the marquess turned to inspect the fallen hoist. It was big and heavy, and if it had hit him, there was little doubt he would have been killed.

Another shudder rippled through her.

"What happened?" Lucien turned a hard look on the men who had been working up in the loft, all now cl.u.s.tered down below around the hoist. One of them stepped forward, his face as pale as Kathryn's.

"Can't say for certain, milord. We been workin' here all mornin' without a problem. Guess the rope musta been worn. If it was, none of us noticed." He straightened, squaring his shoulders, but his face was lined with tension. "I guess you'll be wantin' the lot of us to leave."

Lucien studied the men's stricken faces. Most of them had families to feed. "It was an accident. As I said, those things happen. Just be certain it doesn't happen again."

Relief and a smile broke over the man's craggy features. "Thank you, milord. We'll take better care from now on. You won't be sorry you let us stay."

Lucien nodded. "See that I'm not." Returning to Kathryn, he slid an arm around her waist in a more intimate manner than he usually did, and smiled down at the boy. "Go on with Bennie, Michael. Robin is waiting."

In the way of children, the incident was already forgotten. Michael smiled and nodded and raced off with Bennie while Lucien led Kathryn back up the path to the house.

"Michael was right," she said. "You could have been killed."

Lucien tossed a last glance at the fallen hoist. "I could have been, but I wasn't." A corner of his mouth inched up. "But I do feel an overwhelming urge to procreate. Perhaps we should retire upstairs for a nap."

"What? In the middle of the day?"

The marquess just smiled. "Come, love. I have plans for you that don't include a seven-year-old boy."

Kathryn flushed a bit and her heart kicked up as images of hard male muscle and clever, skillful hands began to flash through her head. But as he led her away, she glanced back at the fallen hoist and the group of men gathered around it. Twice in the past few weeks, the marquess had almost been killed. Surely it was simple coincidence.

Still, a thread of unease trickled through her. It niggled at her all the way back to the house.

Dr. Silas Cunningham tugged at the reins of his small black phaeton, pulling the horse to a halt in front of the ma.s.sive stone castle. He had posted a letter, advising Kathryn Grayson Montaine, newly t.i.tled Marchioness of Litchfield, of his pending arrival, but he wasn't certain the sort of greeting he would receive.

In light of the fact he had failed her, a woman he considered a valued friend and in a strange way even a colleague, he wasn't sure what sort he deserved.

Silas set the brake, dragged in a fortifying breath, and jumped down from the phaeton, handing the reins to one of the stable lads who rushed up at his arrival. Even before he had reached the top of the front porch steps, the heavy wooden door flew open and Kathryn appeared in the opening.

"Dr. Cunningham!" She smiled in that warm, unaffected manner that had endeared her to him from the moment of their first meeting. "I was so excited when I received your letter-I can hardly believe you are actually here. Please do come in."

Some of his tension eased. He pulled his tricorne from his head, straightened his gray bagwig, and followed her up the stairs and into the house. The butler took his hat and greatcoat, and Kathryn led him into a sumptuous drawing room done in ivory and gold.

"I'm sorry my husband isn't here," she told him as she rang for tea. "I should very much have liked for you to meet him. Unfortunately, some sort of business came up in the city and he had to leave for a couple of days."

She looked as fresh and lovely as he remembered, none the worse for her terrible ordeal in the madhouse. Her smile was bright and welcoming, her hair a gleaming dark brown, and the color in her cheeks matched the hue of her rose silk skirts.

"You must be wondering how I found you after all this time. Actually, I learned of your whereabouts some weeks back through your husband's solicitor, Nathaniel Whitley. At the time, Mr. Whitley was working with the marquess in an effort to obtain your release from St. Bart's. He came to me asking about the events that took place at the time your uncle had you committed. I told him the truth, that it was all a pack of lies-but I had only the faintest hope it would be of help in obtaining your release. I did, however, ask him to keep me informed of his progress. When I heard from Mr. Whitley again, he told me of your marriage to Lord Litchfield and that I could find you here."

Silas surveyed the expensive furnishings, the gold brocade sofas and heavy velvet draperies, a far cry from the barren cell she must have occupied at St. Bart's.

Kathryn took his arm and led him over to a comfortable chair. "It's rather a miracle I am here and a very long story." She sat down across from him and a servant appeared with a silver tea tray, which was set on the table in front of them. Kathryn poured him a cup, adding sugar and cream. "Suffice it to say, thanks to the efforts of my husband, I am out from under my uncle's dictates and free of St. Bart's for good."

Silas shook his head. "Such a terrible thing to happen. I know I failed you miserably. That is one of the reasons I came here today. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

Kathryn stirred her tea with great precision, then very carefully set the silver spoon in the saucer. "I realize my uncle threatened to ruin you, Silas. I know you had a family to consider. You had no choice but to keep your silence."

"It was far worse than that. Lord Dunstan threatened Margaret and the children. He demanded I leave Wilford Village. He insinuated quite strongly that if I interfered in your defense in any manner, I might never see my family again."

Kathryn's slim hands trembled against the lace trim on her skirt. "My uncle is utterly ruthless. I am glad you didn't try to thwart him." She smiled, but it looked forced, as if the subject still pained her. "At any rate, all of that is over and done. Tell me about yourself. How are your studies progressing?"

"That, my dear, is the second reason I have come. I have recently accepted a teaching position, at a small physician's college in Guildford."

"That's wonderful, Silas. Guildford isn't all that far away. Perhaps you'll be able to stop by on occasion for a visit."

"I should like that very much." He took a sip of tea. "You know how difficult it is to do research on human anatomy, public opinion being what it is. That is one of the reasons I accepted the position. The school is small and very discreet. So far the townspeople have only made mild rumblings of protest at the subjects we teach, and it is one of the few inst.i.tutes that condones the use of human dissection as a tool of learning."

In medieval times, dissecting a human corpse had been banned by the church. Even now, hundreds of years later, the study of the human body was still highly opposed. Physicians received only the most cursory information. Most surgeons got their training in the military rather than the schoolroom, and their social status wasn't much higher than that of a barber-which many of them actually were. But a few men of medicine, men like Silas, believed the answers to healing lay in a greater knowledge of how the human body worked.

"I'm glad you've finally found a place to go forward with your studies," Kathryn said.

"It's been extremely productive thus far. I thought... if you are still interested in such things... that perhaps you might wish to come down to Guildford and take a look at some of the work that is being done there."

Kathryn's head snapped up so quickly she nearly spilled her tea. "Oh, Dr. Cunningham-I would love to! You can't begin to know how much I've missed our sessions."

"It would have to be done after hours, of course. It would be highly unseemly for a woman-especially one of your social rank-to be discovered in such circ.u.mstances. But I imagined you might wish to come, and it is the least I can do to make up for all you have suffered."

"Oh, Silas-yes! There are a number of things I've been working on as well, herbal remedies mostly, but some have distinct possibilities. I've been reading as much as I can, but modern texts are difficult to find and there are few on human anatomy." The change in her bearing made him inwardly smile. She was no longer the dignified lady of the manor, but the vibrant young woman he had known before, bubbling with enthusiasm, ready and eager to learn.

Silas described some of the projects they were involved in. Research, for example, to develop safe inoculations against smallpox. At present, though the patient himself might be saved the inoculated person was so contagious, those around him often fell ill and died. Mostly they were working on more intricate delvings into the way the human body worked; the search for a way to stop pain when surgery was required; and the ongoing study of how they might learn to prevent putrefaction.

"It is really quite exciting," he said, "though progress is undeniably slow."

"I can hardly wait to get there," Kathryn said.

"And your husband? Will the marquess be coming as well?"

For the first time, she looked uneasy. "I'm afraid my husband disapproves of my interests in medicine nearly as much as my uncle." She smiled, somewhat sadly, he thought. "However, there is little fear he will have me committed should he discover I have gone to visit an old friend who happens to be a physician."

Silas returned the smile. "I am glad to hear it." He set his teacup down on the marble-topped table beside his chair. "And since it is certain that you are now in safe hands, it is time I took my leave." Kathryn rose and so did Silas. "Send a note when it is convenient for you to come. We've taken a nice, roomy house at the edge of the village. There is plenty of s.p.a.ce and I know Margaret would enjoy your visit."

Kathryn took his arm and walked him to the door. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head. He had never seen a pupil more intrigued-or more determined to learn-than this one. It was a shame she was a woman. Still, he had wanted to give her something for the pain he had inadvertently caused, and he knew education was the thing she wanted most.

"Adieu, then," he said. "I look forward to seeing you."

"As I do, Doctor. It make take a while, but I'll arrange things at the first opportunity."

He left her in the entry and returned to his phaeton, climbed aboard and headed toward the road back to Guildford. He would see her, he knew, and soon. Kathryn Grayson Montaine was pa.s.sionate about all aspects of life and her studies were certainly among them.

He thought of her husband and hoped he understood what a jewel he had in her. Rarely had he seen a woman of such strength and courage. Not even the cruelties imposed by her uncle could break her spirit.

He smiled to think of the studies going on at the college and found himself eager to share with his former pupil some of the knowledge he had garnered in the months that had pa.s.sed.

NINETEEN.

Time ticked away. Though Kathryn had hoped an opportunity would arise to visit Dr. Cunningham, it did not. She consoled herself by spending time with little Michael, who had settled into the routine of life at the castle as if he had been born there. He had a tutor now and a governess, and at Lucien's insistence dressed as if he were the son of a lord instead of a homeless orphan the marquess had rescued from St. Bart's.

It was amazing the bond the pair had formed. Seeing them together, Kathryn realized how much her husband loved children and what a wonderful father he would make. Lucien wanted that above all else, she knew, perhaps more so now that Michael had shown him what it might be like to have a child of his own. He wanted a son and heir, and he set out to accomplish the task with driving purpose. There were times, late at night, when Lucien arrived at her bedchamber door and Kathryn resented him for it.

Then he would touch her, kiss her, whisper soft erotic words, and she would be lost. In those moments, she forgot his only use of her was to give him a son, that aside from the pa.s.sion they shared, she held no special place in his life, in his heart. In truth, most of the time, he seemed to go out of his way to avoid her, to guard himself in some way whenever she was near.

Distressed at being unable to bridge the distance between them, Kathryn sought out Aunt Winnie when she returned from London. She found her in the conservatory, sitting on a wrought-iron bench in front of a mossy-bottomed pond. Winnie smiled when she looked up and saw Kathryn, and there was a softness, a serenity, in her face that hadn't been there the last time Kathryn had seen her.

"Good morning, my dear." Winnie patted a place on the iron bench beside her. "We've hardly had a moment to speak. Why don't you join me?"

"Actually, I've been looking for you, Aunt Winnie. Reeves thought I might find you here."

The blond woman sighed. "I should rather be out in the garden, but there is still a nip in the air. Besides, I do enjoy watching the fish."

Kathryn sat down on the bench, her apricot skirts spreading out around her. "You seem different since your return, Aunt Winnie. Brighter somehow than when you left. Are you so much happier living in the city than you were out here in the country?"

Winnie waved away the notion. "Don't be silly, my dear, it has nothing to do with that."

"Then what is it?"

For a moment, Winnie hesitated. She plucked at the lace on the sleeve of her blue silk gown. "I have something to tell you. I'm not certain what my nephew will have to say about it, but I don't believe that you will condemn me."

"Condemn you? Good heavens, Winnie, whatever for?"

That soft look reappeared and she smiled. "I've fallen in love, my dear. Totally and completely and without the slightest reservation. I'm in love with Nathaniel Whitley and he is in love with me."

Surprise, happiness, and a soft throb of pain moved through her. She was delighted for Winnie, yet seeing the joy on her face made the loveless void Kathryn lived in seem all the worse.

She leaned over and hugged the woman who had become such a dear and loving friend. "I think it's wonderful, Winnie. I couldn't be happier for you."

"Some people will think I'm a fool. They'll say Nat's a fortune hunter, even though he has money of his own. And they'll think I'm marrying beneath myself."

Kathryn squeezed Winnie's hand. "Well, I say you are lucky to have found a man like Nat and he is even luckier to have found you."

"He's wonderful, Kathryn. Nat is kind and caring. He is generous and good to a fault. He has asked me to marry him and I have agreed. He wished to speak to Lucien about it, but I asked him to let me talk to him first."

"Surely you don't think the marquess will oppose the marriage?"

Winnie glanced down at the water, watched one of the fish duck out of sight beneath a miniature ceramic bridge. "I'm not certain. It won't make any difference-I shall marry Nathaniel no matter what anyone says-but Lucien is family and I do so want his approval."

"I know he thinks a great deal of Nat. I can't imagine he'll be anything but pleased."

"I wish I could be sure. I've quite a sizable fortune. Lucien might think, as my father did, that I should marry a man of my own cla.s.s."

Kathryn glanced away, her own situation rising up with painful force. "Lucien doesn't know what love is-you told me that yourself. He doesn't understand that there is nothing more important in this world than loving someone and being loved in return." She blinked against the sudden burn of tears. "I love him so much, Aunt Winnie. I would give anything if he were in love with me."

She felt Winnie's arms go around her. "There now, you mustn't despair, my dear. My nephew is a good man and I believe he cares for you greatly. I have never seen him look at a woman the way he looks at you." She shook her head, searching for words to describe it. "There is such a terrible yearning in his face."

Kathryn scoffed. "What could he possibly be yearning for? I'm his wife. He comes to my bed whenever he wishes. Aside from an heir, there is nothing else he wants from me."

"Perhaps he wants your love, my dear. You see, my nephew may not know what love is, but that doesn't mean he doesn't need it, just like everyone else. I don't know how much you know about our family, but Lucien lost his mother when he was twelve and his father died not long after."

Kathryn looked down at the hands she rested in her lap. "The servants talk. I've heard some of the gossip. His mother ran off with another man, and his father was heartbroken. Apparently he loved her very much."

"William loved her-or at least thought he did. In truth, it was more of an obsession. Charlotte was beautiful and headstrong, and my brother was determined to have her. But Charlotte was never the sort of woman to be happy with just one man. After she left, William became so depressed he began to dabble with opium. He died one day when he took too much."

Kathryn felt a wave of pity. She had lost her own parents. She knew what it was like to feel so completely alone. "It must have been terrible for Lucien. He had already lost his mother. Losing his father must have taken a tremendous toll."

"I'm sure it did, though he never really showed it. My father-Lucien's grandfather-raised him after my brother died. My father saw William's obsession with Charlotte as a weakness, and he was determined his grandson wouldn't turn into the spineless man his son had become because of his love for a woman. Lucien was raised to guard his emotions, never to reveal his true feelings, to be completely self-reliant."

"Well, he certainly succeeded."

"Yes, he did. Too well for his own good. Charlotte was a strong-minded woman, outspoken, and determined. I think my nephew sees some of those traits in you and it scares him to death. The difference is, except for your strength, you are nothing at all like Charlotte. Perhaps in time, he will come to realize that." Winnie reached over and took her hand. "My nephew might have learned to hide it, but I know there are times he is lonely-and he has always been desperately in need of love."

"He loves little Michael. Already he is fiercely protective of the child."

"The boy is a pure delight and Lucien has always loved children. My nephew has a heart full of love to give. He simply doesn't know how to give it to a woman."

"Then you think that perhaps in time... ?"