Silk And Steel Part 3

He leaned a bit forward. "Dunstan. Yes, I know him fairly well."

No one knows him, Kathryn thought. Not the man he really is. She simply nodded. Hearing his name brought his image to mind and she had to force it away.

"At first I allowed him unlimited control of my money. It never even occurred to me to question what he might be doing with it, how he might be spending it. We were in residence at Milford Park and even I knew the upkeep on such a place would be outrageously expensive. As I grew older, I began to grow suspicious. I discovered he was squandering my father's enormous fortune, and that if I didn't do something to stop him, the money would all be gone."

"I always believed he had plenty of money of his own," Litchfield said.

"That's what everyone thinks. In truth, the money he is spending is mine, and when I began to speak out against him, to demand an accounting of my funds, he had me sent away."

"How long ago did this happen?"

"Ten months ago."

His eyes moved over her face. "Where did he send you?"

The word stuck in her throat. She worked to force it out. "St. Bartholomew's Hospital."

His dark eyes widened; his expression became incredulous. "Dunstan had you committed to St. Bart's?"

Kathryn glanced away, afraid of what she would see in his face. "Yes."

"ForG.o.dsake, on what grounds?"

She blinked and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. "He told them that I was insane. He said he was doing it for my own good, that he wasn't capable of dealing with a madwoman." It was all she dared to tell him. Sweet G.o.d, she prayed he'd never discover the last bit of evidence that had finally sealed her fate.

The marquess came up from his chair, moved toward her, reached down and took her hand. She realized it was shaking.

"You are unique, Kathryn, but to say that you are insane..." He squeezed her hand, shook his head. His eyes looked dark and forbidding. "I cannot imagine a man doing such a thing to a woman in his care."

"Please, Lord Litchfield, I beg you to help me. I'm not insane. I never was. Uncle Douglas has friends in high places and money enough at his disposal to pay whatever it might take to see his ends served. If he finds me, he'll force me to go back to that place and... and." She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "And this time I couldn't survive it."

She started crying in earnest then, deep wracking sobs that shook her whole frame. She felt the sofa dip beneath the marquess's substantial weight as he sat down beside her and eased her into his arms.

"It's all right, love, don't cry. You're safe here. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you." She felt his hands stroking over her hair, fine hands, long-fingered and graceful. She could feel the solid strength of his arms and chest and the comforting warmth of his body. Minutes ticked past. He didn't try to quiet her. He simply held her, let her sob out her tears, and in time her crying ceased.

Kathryn dragged in a shaky breath and drew back a little to look at him. "I have nowhere else to turn. Will you help me?"

The marquess's face looked grim. "I know Douglas Roth. I never imagined him capable of something like this, but he is certainly not a man I would trust. I'll hire men to look into the matter, see what I can discover. In the meanwhile, you can stay here."

"I'll pay you back. If you can find a way to protect me from my uncle, I can repay whatever it costs. It won't be for some time yet, not for another few years. But once I'm four and twenty, Milford Park and my father's fortune will finally belong to me and I'll be able to pay back the debt."

He smiled faintly. "The money isn't important. What matters is keeping you safe. You will stay here at Castle Running until this matter is resolved."

She brushed at the wetness on her cheeks. "Thank you. Thank you so much. You'll never know how much your kindness means."

Litchfield simply nodded. But the look in those hard dark eyes had slowly turned to stone. She was grateful that look was reserved for Douglas Roth and no longer directed at her.

Lucien sat in a comfortable leather chair in the corner of his study. Across from him, his best friend, Jason Sinclair, Duke of Carlyle, stretched his long legs out in front of him. A small fire blazed in the hearth, warming the room against the building October chill.

"So that is how the girl wound up here," Lucien finished, leaning back in his chair.

" 'Tis hard to believe even Dunstan would do such a thing," Jason said. "It makes my skin crawl just to think of it." He was a big man, slightly taller than Lucien and more muscular, thicker through the chest and shoulders. His hair was a wavy dark brown, shoulder length, tied back with a thin black ribbon. They'd been friends since they were boys, their family estates not far apart. Lucien could always count on Jason. He wasn't afraid to trust him with his secrets, nor even with his life if it ever came to that.

"If you could have seen the poor girl that first day, you might have an inkling of what she must have suffered. The poor child-"

"Child?" Jason interrupted. "I thought you said the girl was twenty."

"Yes, well, I suppose she isn't exactly a child, though I prefer to think of her that way. It makes things... simpler."

"Which I take to mean you're attracted to her."

Lucien sighed. "She's lovely in the extreme."

"Need I remind you the girl you are to marry is only nineteen?"

"Allison is different. I don't-"

"What? l.u.s.t after her as you do Lady Kathryn?" Jason grinned. "You want to bed her, but she's an innocent, so you're forced to ignore the attraction."

"I'm not certain she is still as innocent as she was ten months ago. G.o.d only knows what they did to her in that place. But the fact remains she's a lady and well out of my reach. Aside from that, I'm betrothed to Allison and very soon shall be wed."

"That hasn't kept you away from the pretty widow in the village."

Lucien made a gruff sound in his throat. "A man has needs, and I am not yet married. And of late, I have given up seeing even her."

"You mean since Lady Kathryn has arrived."

He didn't deny it, though he didn't like to hear it put quite that way. In truth, he hadn't been interested in the widow Carter since Kathryn Grayson's appearance at Castle Running. Unsettled by the notion, he returned to the problem at hand.

"I can't help feeling sorry for her. I visited Bedlam once. It was a scene from the very depths of h.e.l.l."

"I know. There are actually tours of the city that take you there. G.o.d, can you imagine people paying good money to witness that kind of suffering?"

"No. Nor can I imagine the fear this girl must live with every day, worrying if she's going to be sent back there."

"What do you plan to do?"

"Whatever it takes. First we need to gather as much information as we can."

"Perhaps Velvet can help." Jason's wife, a short, auburn-haired ball of fire who was the love of his best friend's life. It was Jason's headlong tumble for Velvet Moran, bringing him near to disaster, that made Lucien even more certain he never wanted to fall in love.

"Velvet has a friend," Jason continued. "Actually, the man is an old friend of her grandfather's-head of the London College of Physicians. Perhaps he can find a way to obtain Kathryn's records from St. Bart's."

"Is she certain she can trust him? If word leaks out of Kathryn's whereabouts before we are ready, we'll have no way to keep them from hauling her back."

"Velvet has known Dr. Nolan since she was a child. He has long been a trusted family friend."

"All right, we'll start there. In the meantime, I've instructed my solicitor to discover what avenue we might take to have Kathryn's guardianship changed."

"Good idea. Where is the lady in question? I'd like to meet her."

Lucien nodded. "I imagined you would. She's in the drawing room with Aunt Winnie. We're to join them for tea, but I think I can arrange for something a bit stronger."

Jason grinned. "What are we waiting for?"

They made their way down the hall to the Green Drawing Room, a favorite of his aunt's, and found both of the women deep in conversation. By now Winnie knew the truth of Kathryn's situation and had taken up a stance even more protective than Lucien's.

The ladies looked up at their approach. Jason paused for a moment in the doorway, his bright blue eyes surveying Kathryn Grayson from head to foot, seeing the same rare beauty that Lucien had seen. Even dressed as she was in a borrowed rose silk gown cut a little too full in the bodice, a concession to his aunt's more ample bosom, Lucien could see the small, elegant swells that had a different, more exquisite, even more enticing appeal. It was obvious Jason noticed as well.

Lucien frowned, not liking the notion. Striding toward the women, he paused in front of Kathryn, whose look had turned wary as Jason walked in. Lucien gave her a rea.s.suring smile and some of the tension went out of her shoulders. For safety in regard to eavesdropping servants, Kathryn was introduced as Kathryn Gray. It was a ruse they would continue until she was no longer in danger.

"Miss Gray," Jason said, bowing with great formality over her slim, gloved hand. "Lucien speaks highly of you. Since he rarely goes on in such glowing terms, I hope we shall become great friends."

Kathryn smiled. "Lady Beckford has shared a number of stories about you and his lordship when you were boys. I feel as if I already know you. I look forward to meeting your wife."

"As I am equally eager to meet you," said a bright voice from the doorway. Velvet Sinclair bowled into the drawing room with all the energy of a whirlwind. "It's a pleasure... Miss Gray? Wasn't it?"

"Yes..."

"My wife, the d.u.c.h.ess of Carlyle," Jason said, completing the introduction.

Velvet looked her over with a different sort of eye, sizing her up then staring hard at Lucien, who found himself glancing away. Whatever she saw in his face made her smile. "Yes, Miss Gray, a rare pleasure, indeed. Lucien is a dear and loyal friend. I'm sure we shall become good friends as well."

Kathryn smiled broadly. "I should like that above all things."

It occurred to Lucien how treasured such a friendship would be to a woman who had spent nearly a year away from home and family, even if that family was Douglas Roth.

"I thought you had gone to the village?" Jason captured his wife's hand. In an unselfconscious gesture, he brought it to his lips.

Velvet smiled up at him. "I returned home shortly after Lucien's note arrived, but you had already left for the castle. Since it has been some time since we've all been together, I thought that I would join you."

And after reading my note mentioning a matter of greatest urgency, your curiosity wouldn't let you stay away. Lucien inwardly smiled. Even after the birth of their two children, Alexander Jason and little Mary Jane, Velvet was the same high-spirited young woman she had always been. She wasn't the sort of woman he would want, but she and Jason were perfectly suited. Thank G.o.d, she had married the one man who could handle her.

"Why don't we close the door?" Aunt Winnie said, breaking into the easy camaraderie. "Lucien brought us all together for a purpose. I realize Kathryn has only just met Jason and Velvet, but she has asked for our help and now she must trust us to give it in the best way we know how."

Grateful to his aunt for getting to the point in the least painful manner, Lucien firmly closed the door.

"As my aunt has so eloquently put it, we are here for a purpose." His glance fixed on Velvet. "Since the subject is undoubtedly painful for Miss Gray, I shall summarize briefly for you, d.u.c.h.ess, then we shall put all of our heads together to discover the best way to help our lady in distress."

Kathryn looked up at him with such grat.i.tude and hope shining in her eyes, something tightened in Lucien's chest. He told himself any man worth his salt would be willing to help her. It had nothing to do with the surge of desire he felt whenever he looked at her. It wasn't because he wanted to bed her, though more and more it was true.

It was simply that Kathryn needed him so badly. She had no one else to turn to, no one to count on but him. She needed him as no woman in his memory ever had, and he wasn't about to let anyone hurt her. Not Douglas Roth or anyone else.

Returning from a brief sojourn to Castle Running with her maid the following day, Lady Allison Hartman untied the fastenings on her satin-lined cloak and tossed it to the butler. As she stormed into the drawing room where her mother sat penning a letter, her cheeks still burned from the anger coursing through her. Her fingers bit into the cream silk reticule she clutched in one hand.

She waited till the butler discreetly closed the drawing room doors and her mother glanced up from the foolscap on her small, portable writing desk. One look in her daughter's troubled blue eyes, and she set her plumed pen back in the inkwell.

"What is it, dearest? What has so upset you?"

"Oh, Mother, you were right. Something is going on. The marquess was outside with that... that woman when I arrived. They were discussing philosophy. Philosophy! What woman talks to a man about such a thing? It simply is not done."

Allison closed her eyes and she could still see the willowy, dark-haired woman, Kathryn Gray, walking beside Lucien out in the garden. He listened to some jest she made and his chest rumbled with mirth.

" 'Were Democritus still on Earth he would laugh,' " Lucien said.

"Democritus..." said the woman, as if every female in England should recognize the name. "The laughing philosopher. You are quoting Horace."

Lucien smiled at her with obvious admiration... and something more. A look Allison was certain she had never seen on his face when he looked at her.

"Oh, Mama! What should I do?"

"There, there, dear heart. I'm sure whatever you saw was harmless. Lord Litchfield is a man of honor. He has asked you to marry. I do not believe his intentions have changed."

"You are the one who has always said a woman must guard against the treacheries of men."

The baroness straightened her large bulk, making the small rosewood chair creak beneath her weight. "I am not saying we shouldn't be wary. Lord Litchfield is a handsome, wealthy man. He would be quite a catch for some little unt.i.tled n.o.body from the country. Until the two of you are well and truly wed, it is safer to guard against such a threat."

Lady St. James rose ponderously to her feet. "I have friends in York. I shall write to them, see what they know of Litchfield's Miss Gray."

Allison smiled. She could always count on her mother. "Thank you, Mama." She bent and bussed her mother's plump cheek, then wrinkled her nose at the taste of rice powder on her lips. "Now, I believe I shall go up and change for tea. I've yet to wear my new yellow gown-the one with the striped silk underskirt. I think it will look quite fetching."

"I'm sure it will, my dear."

As Allison left the salon, her thoughts returned to the woman at Castle Running. Now that her mother was in charge, they would learn all about Kathryn Gray. They would discover the woman's family and friends, her past, perhaps even her plans for the future. In time, every secret would be exposed. Allison smiled. Her mother would know how to deal with a woman who had obvious designs on her future husband. She had nothing more to worry about. Nothing at all.

She hurried to her room, her thoughts on the new silk gown she would wear, and whether or not she should also have purchased a new pair of yellow kid slippers.

FOUR.

Kathryn stared down at the lovely emerald silk gown Winnie had brought to her room and insisted she wear.

"I couldn't possibly accept another of your beautiful dresses," Kathryn argued, admiring the exquisite cut of the fabric, the deep, shimmering hue of green.

Aunt Winnie just laughed. "Nonsense. Most of the gowns I've given you have grown too snug for me-I am sorry to say. They look splendid' on you, however-now that we've had the bustline taken in."

"I still feel guilty. Perhaps one day-"

"Don't be silly. I told you, they are far too snug. I already had this one altered, and I'm having some new gowns made for me. I am merely glad to see these old things go to some use."

Old things. Dressed and standing in front of the cheval gla.s.s, Kathryn smoothed the green silk bodice that came to a sharp vee in front. The sleeves, tight halfway down, cascaded in rows of frothy white lace from elbow to wrist, and the skirt floated out around her, draped over wide panniers. Her small b.r.e.a.s.t.s thrust above the square-cut neckline, forming pale, delicate mounds.

The marquess was entertaining guests tonight, the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Carlyle. As Kathryn made her way downstairs to join them, she straightened the pleats below the vee of her skirt, a little nervous, she discovered. She tried to tell herself it was the presence of the duke and d.u.c.h.ess, but she knew that wasn't the truth.