Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage

CHAPTER 7

What happened next was all a very efficient business. Lord Medford issued orders to a variety of servants who soon materialized from the interior of the house. Kate had never seen such smartly dressed servants. Not a wrinkle in their clothing. Not a hair out of place. Not a single frown. Lord Medford pointed, ordered, and issued commands, and his words were met with a flurry of precise activity and a minimum of folderol. Kate watched the proceedings with wide eyes. Whatever else Lord Medford was, the man was entirely in control.

Lord Medford finally turned to Kate where she stood inching toward a corner, watching everything with great interest. “Mrs. Hartsmeade here will see you to your room,” he said. “A fire has already been started, and she’s laid out some furs and blankets to warm you.”

Kate nodded jerkily and glanced around. She looked up to see an older woman who stepped forward and took her bag. She was obviously the housekeeper. “And I’ve already got a nice, hot bath waiting for you, your grace,” the older woman said in a soothing, friendly voice.

Kate nodded again. It was all she could do. It had all happened so quickly. And it all sounded so wonderful. Since coming in the back door, she was already warming up, and she hadn’t had a proper bath in over a fortnight. No doubt she smelled like a foot. A very dirty foot. A bath would be absolutely heavenly.

She followed the housekeeper out of the room, with a backward glance and a thankful smile directed at Lord Medford.

Kate didn’t entirely realize just how grand a house the viscount lived in until the next morning when she had a chance to explore. She still couldn’t quite believe that Lord Medford intended for her to live under his very own roof. And how grand a roof it was. Even her husband’s town house hadn’t been this grand.

The man must sell a great many pamphlets. She eyed everything with wonder, the delicate French wallpaper, the expensive Aubusson rugs, the ormolu clocks, the priceless works of art and portraits that hung on the walls. She’d never seen such a well-ordered home. Every single item was perfectly in place. The maids scurried about plucking nonexistent bits of dust from tabletops, the footmen stood at attention in perfectly pressed livery, and the butler and housekeeper were so thoroughly organized, Kate got the impression that they had their days scheduled to the second. In the humming precision that was Lord Medford’s house, Kate felt like a pigeon in a peacock’s nest.

Her breakfast had arrived that morning on a shining silver tray that held a precisely pressed linen napkin embossed with a scrolling letter B, a scone and homemade jam, a pot of chocolate, a china tea service. Even a tiny crystal vase filled with roses graced the setting. Kate plucked one of the sweet flowers from the vase and swiped it under her nose. She closed her eyes and breathed in its delicate scent. Where in the world did Lord Medford get roses in winter? She bit her lip. It wasn’t possible that he’d arranged for them after she’d mentioned wanting to smell roses last night, was it? No, it had only been a matter of hours since she’d made that comment. No doubt Mrs. Hartsmeade had chosen the flowers.

Kate watched with wide eyes as the efficiency that was Lord Medford’s household worked its magic around her. Everything was choreographed to the smallest detail. One maid whisked in and plumped the pillows behind Kate’s head, another brought her a decadently soft robe, a third stoked the toasty fire in the hearth across from the bed, and Mrs. Hartsmeade herself had brought the breakfast tray along with a wide smile. Oh yes, Kate had made a good bargain coming here.

“Are you feeling better this morning, your grace?” the housekeeper asked, deftly sliding the tray onto the bed next to Kate and promptly filling her teacup.

Kate couldn’t help but return the woman’s smile. “I am. Very much so. I must say I wasn’t treated this well at my own … my husband’s home.”

Mrs. Hartsmeade’s brow furrowed. “Lord Medford indicated that you were to be treated to our best and given whatever you desire. So please do not hesitate to ask for anything.”

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Hartsmeade.”

“I’ve taken the liberty of pressing the clothing you brought with you, and Lord Medford has sent one of the footmen to Markingham Abbey to fetch more of your things.”

Kate blushed at that. Lord Medford was fetching her clothing? Did no detail escape the man’s attention?

“And not to worry, your grace,” Mrs. Hartsmeade said in a lower tone. “You may rest assured that all of Lord Medford’s servants are utterly discreet. No one will know you’re here, not from the servants.” She gave a firm nod.

Kate expelled her breath. She had been a bit worried about that with so many people flitting about, but they all seemed so flawlessly proper. She couldn’t imagine any one of them gossiping the way the servants at Markingham Abbey were wont to do. She smiled at the older woman. “Thank you for that, Mrs. Hartsmeade.”

“I’ll leave you to your breakfast, your grace,” the housekeeper replied. “And later, Louisa will be in to help you dress.”

Kate nodded. Oh how she wished she could ask Mrs. Hartsmeade not to call her “your grace,” but she could just imagine the proper woman having conniptions were Kate to suggest any such thing.

After enjoying the breakfast that was infinitely better than the fare that had been served to her at the Tower, Kate stretched and relaxed back into the pillows on the bed. Ah, treated as a guest of honor in a fine town house in Mayfair. So much better than her cold dank room at the Tower. The hot bath she’d had last night had been so heavenly she’d nearly cried and she’d slept better than she had in weeks. It was all like a dream.

But even as she tried to enjoy herself, apprehension clawed at her insides. She had no idea what would happen next. Her life had been anything but predictable of late and there was no indication that pattern would cease any time soon.

A knock at the door signaled Louisa’s arrival and the efficient little lady’s maid with bright green eyes and neatly braided blond hair set about helping Kate into one of the few gowns she’d dragged with her from her husband’s home. She eyed the light blue morning dress she wore. It was inappropriate. She hadn’t even had time to have the gowns dyed black. And she certainly wasn’t about to inconvenience Lord Medford’s servants by requesting that they do it. But did it even matter? Would a Society that assumed she had murdered her husband truly fault her for failing to properly mourn him? She shook her head. Even when she was trying to break the rules, they crowded into her brain and mocked her. No. No. No. She refused to care anymore. Society and its rules had ruined her.

“I hope you don’t mind my saying so, your grace,” Louisa murmured, after she’d arranged Kate’s hair in a loose chignon. “But you must be the prettiest lady I’ve ever seen.”

Kate’s cheeks heated. “Why, what a nice thing to say, Louisa. Thank you.”

The maid returned her smile. “Lord Medford asks that you meet him in his study at half past, your grace,” Louisa announced, bobbing a curtsy and retreating from the room.

Kate glanced at the delicate clock on the mantelpiece. Fifteen minutes yet. She squared her shoulders and smoothed her skirts. She might as well go in search of Lord Medford’s study. Louisa had rushed away before she’d had a chance to ask its location.

Taking a deep breath and opening the door to her room, Kate made her way into the hall, through the corridor, and down the grand staircase in the foyer. She glanced about uncertainly. Which way? Might as well begin here. No doubt she would find the study eventually. She poked her nose into the first few salons in the front of the house. All perfectly appointed like the rest of the mansion. Where were all of the helpful servants when she needed them? All probably industriously occupied elsewhere no doubt. She couldn’t imagine any one of them being lazy for even a moment. She gingerly made her way toward the back of the house, where she came upon two large wooden doors. Either the study or the library, she decided. She knocked lightly and a deep voice answered, “Come in.”

Ah, the study.

She opened the doors with both hands and pushed them wide. She twirled around in a large circle to take in every detail of the vast space. The study was a grand room, and it didn’t have so much as one paper out of place. A large mahogany desk sat in the center of the room framed by floor-to-ceiling windows behind it. Two large coffee-brown leather chairs rested in front of the desk. Bookcases lined with an enormous variety of tomes marched along the walls and a warm fire crackled in the hearth across from the desk. A big yellow dog lay on the rug in front of the fireplace. The dog jumped up and wagged its tail eagerly, watching Kate, but the animal remained in its spot, obviously awaiting a command from its master.

I want to pet a puppy. The memory of what she’d said to Lord Medford when he’d made her his offer in the Tower came floating back to her. He hadn’t mentioned that he had a dog.

She smiled brightly. “Oh, but she’s adorable. I love dogs! I haven’t seen a dog since I lived at home with Mother and Father.” A wave of homesickness hit her and she pressed her lips together tightly.

Lord Medford had looked up from his papers and was watching her. “Would you like to pet her?” he asked with a smile that made Kate’s heart flutter.

She nodded. “Yes, very much.”

Lord Medford gave a short whistle and the dog bounded forward. She stopped in front of Kate and sat politely, wiggling and putting up one paw that Kate took and shook. Kate laughed. “Well, well. Someone has extraordinary manners. What’s her name?”

“Themis.” Lord Medford stood up and walked around the side of the desk. He rested a hip against it and smiled at the scene in front of him. “I’ve enjoyed training her,” he said. “Though sometimes I think I may have gone a bit too far.” He laughed.

“Themis.” Kate put a finger to her jaw. “Why do I know that name?” She tapped her fingertip to her face. “Ah yes, the goddess of custom and order.”

“You know her?” Was that a look of admiration in his green eyes? “Themis isn’t one of the more popular goddesses.”

“She’s the goddess of divine justice,” Kate murmured. “Perhaps that’s why I know her. I need to call upon her now.”

His eyes shifted back toward the dog and he gave a little laugh, perhaps to lighten the mood. “Well, here she is.”

Kate bent down and patted the dog’s head. “Themis,” she said. “You and I shall become fast friends.” Themis stamped a paw on the floor and breathed out through her snout.

Kate smiled at Lord Medford. “I’ve never seen such manners. What else can she do?”

Lord Medford issued commands for the dog to sit, lie, roll over, and bring him the paper, all of which Themis did without hesitation. She obviously loved her master.

Kate clapped her hands. “Amazing, truly. How long have you had her?”

Lord Medford sighed. “She was a stray, actually. My friend Lily, Lady Colton, she and her sister have made it a habit to rescue animals in need. This poor girl was not long for the world, I’m afraid. She had no one to take her in.”

Kate watched him carefully. “So you agreed?”

“Yes, and I must admit I never thought myself one for owning a dog until I met Themis.”

Kate ducked her head to hide her smile. How wonderful. The man had saved a dog out of the kindness of his heart. And he obviously loved the animal. She could tell just by watching them together.

“I used to have a dog that looked very much like Themis,” Kate said, her voice trailing off softly.

Lord Medford braced his palms on the desktop on either side of his hips. “Did you? What happened to him?”

“I couldn’t take him with me when I married. My parents kept him. Eventually he … he died of old age just before my parents did.”

“What happened to your parents?” Lord Medford asked softly.

Kate glanced up at him and it struck her then. Lord Medford had kind eyes. Very kind. “They both had the fever,” she murmured, swallowing.

Lord Medford nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Kate cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. She pinched the delicate skin on the inside of her arm. Why had she told him about her dog and her parents? No doubt Lord Medford wasn’t interested in such drivel. She had a job to do. A pamphlet to write. “Shall we get started?” she asked, schooling her features into the most professional manner she could muster. “Discussing the pamphlet?”

“By all means.” He stood and moved back around to his seat behind the desk, gesturing for Kate to sit in one of the facing chairs. Themis trotted away and curled up on the rug in front of the fire again and closed her eyes.

“Before we discuss the pamphlet,” Lord Medford said. “I wanted to speak to you about your defense. I’ve sent for Mr. Abernathy. He’s the most experienced barrister in town.”

Bracing her hands on the arms of the chair, Kate sat up straight and blinked. “Mr. Abernathy?”

“Yes. I promised you the best and I’ll deliver.” He winked at her and Kate’s insides felt funny again. “I must admit I was quite surprised to hear you didn’t already have someone employed. Abernathy was working on another case, but I … persuaded him to put his work on hold.”

Kate settled back into the chair and expelled her breath. “Thank you, my lord. I’m going to need the best. But I’ve seen enough of how the aristocracy works to not trust the House of Lords, to be honest. I doubt even Mr. Abernathy will stand much of a chance against the charges I face.”

Lord Medford cleared his throat. “Abernathy will do everything he can. He’ll be here at one o’clock.”

She took a deep breath. “I look forward to meeting him. In the meantime, perhaps you should tell me what exactly you have in mind for the pamphlet.”

He leaned his elbow on the arm of his chair and propped his chin on his fist. “I ask nothing more than that you tell your story, in your own words.”

Her gaze snapped to his face. “Truly? You don’t want the salacious details? I thought surely—”

“Trust me. The ton will be interested in whatever you have to say.”

Kate shook her head. Trust me, he had said. That made her stop. She didn’t trust him. Didn’t even know him. True, he’d been kind to her so far, but he wanted something from her. Though he had surprised her by giving her free rein to write the pamphlet. And seeing to her defense. But there had to be a catch … somewhere.

He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of his chest. “What is it that you want to tell people?”

“That I’m innocent,” she said in a loud, strong voice, quite sure her eyes were flashing with all the passion she felt on the subject. “Though I expect most won’t believe it,” she finished more softly.

His eyes narrowed on her face. “May I ask you a question?”

She smiled. “I believe I cannot say no to that.”

He leaned back in his chair. “You might have an easier time of it if you had friends in the aristocracy. Why is it that you were in the country for so long? Why did you never come to London? Never meet anyone? Make friends?”

She swallowed and glanced away. “What does any of it matter?”

“It matters to your defense.”

Kate bit her lip. “Very well.” She paused, expelling her breath. “After we were married, my husband and I … we soon realized we didn’t suit. He wanted to pursue his … pleasures in London, and he didn’t want me there, reminding him of what an awful choice of wife he’d made.”

Lord Medford pursed his lips. “Awful choice?”

She stared at her hands that were folded in her lap. “You must have heard about me, Lord Medford. My past. It’s been in all the papers.”

He nodded. “If you mean that your father was a gentleman landowner, not a peer, then yes. But how does that make you an awful choice?”

She raised her head and gave him a skeptical look. “You know how vast the divide is. I was never a part of my husband’s world. Despite the fairy tales, one does not go from a farm to a ducal estate. Not successfully at least.”

“You didn’t enjoy your new position?”

She looked up at the ceiling and searched her memory, trying to locate the right words. “I tried. I truly did. I tried everything to fit it, to be a good wife. But I just couldn’t, and I wasn’t. I was miserable and George was even more so. We’d made a terrible mistake.”

Lord Medford’s brow remained furrowed. He shrugged. “Many couples find they aren’t a love match. It’s not uncommon.”

She glanced away, her face heating fiercely. She should stop talking. She’d already said too much. “There were other … reasons.” She cleared her throat and shook her head. “But none of that matters now. None of it changes … anything. Including the reason why we’re here.” Oh God. Why was it seemingly so easy to talk to this man? He was a stranger. Did she have to remind herself of that again? And here she was sharing the intimate details of her life with him.

He nodded. “I understand. And all I ask of you is that you write your story, your grace. And that you write the truth.”