Wed at Leisure(The Taming Series)

CHAPTER THREE



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Nine days later, Peter was back at the Orland ancestral seat. It had been five months since he’d last been home and there was much to be done: meetings with his land steward and his tenants, a discussion with his younger brother about the mess of gambling debts he’d left in London for Peter to clean up. However, Reggie had done his best to avoid him, to the point that Peter almost wondered why his younger brother had even returned rather than go to his own estate. Of course, opening his estate would require expenditures and Reggie was oddly tightfisted . . . when it came to his own money.

Several days later and Reggie found him, with Lucian Dorlingsley, Viscount Asquith in tow. Peter hadn’t seen Asquith in years and certainly hadn’t known he was in town. After all, he’d be like to stay at Fairview himself, and news of a Viscount in the neighborhood, especially a young unattached one, was practically announced by town crier. Not that Watersham had a town crier.

“I’m staying with the Mansfields,” Asquith said with an odd flush. A suspicious flush.

“The younger Miss Mansfield has captured your attention?” Peter ventured.

“Always astute!” Reggie interjected. “And, as you know, Kate must marry first.”

Actually, Peter had forgotten that detail. It was hardly set in stone. Not part of some will or legal document. It was simply part of the mythos surrounding the “shrewish” Catherine Mansfield.

“I’m certain Mr. Mansfield would not wish to lose the chance of his daughter becoming a future countess.”

Asquith coughed, shifting uncomfortably.

“He doesn’t know who Luc is.”

Peter blinked twice. Started paying attention because Reggie couldn’t have said what he thought he’d said. “But you said you’re staying there,” he addressed Asquith.

“As tutor to Master Thomas. As Lucian Dore.”

“Sit, both of you.”

It took the better part of a quarter of an hour, but eventually he had the whole convoluted story. From Asquith’s case of Love at First Sight (an ailment fortunately not catching) to Reggie’s spontaneous scheme that required Luc to masquerade as a tutor in order to woo Bianca, to the fact that Bianca had actually fallen into some sort of an affair with Asquith.

“You plan to marry her,” Peter confirmed.

“Did I not say as much?” Luc said, looking somewhat incredulous. “I am a gentleman.”

“Not that you had a problem deceiving the entire family . . . as a gentleman.”

“I know,” Asquith admitted, “but what is done is done. And now . . .”

“Now, my brother,” Reggie interrupted. “We require your help.”

“No.”

“But you haven’t heard us out.”

“Reggie, I’ve known you for all of your twenty-four years. I refuse to be embroiled in one of your pranks. And now you’ve involved Asquith . . . I only pray this ends happily because I would not blame Mansfield his legitimate anger and request for restitution. In fact, I insist you inform him of this shameful act immediately.”

“Luc’s intentions are honorable. Please, Peter, hear us out.”

He drummed his fingers on the table. He should send them away unheard, but he had to admit he was curious. What ridiculous scheme had Reggie concocted now?

“Next week is the Mansfields’ house party.”

Peter nodded. He had known, of course, about the upcoming house party at Hopford Manor. And as neighbors, his family was invited as a matter of course. Naturally, he would attend a selection of the events, to be polite. It was a rare event. He couldn’t remember the last time the Mansfields had hosted such an affair. However, it meant Kate would return. In fact, likely she was the very reason for its occurrence. He could expect the guests to be a selection of eligible, marriage-minded men and a few young ladies less attractive than Kate.

“Kate is coming home. Thus the party.”

Peter nodded.

“We want you to attend.”

Peter nodded again, a small smile playing about his lips. His brother was taking an awfully long time to come to the point.

“This is a terrible idea, Reggie,” Luc said suddenly. “Apologies, Orland, for involving you in this mess.”

“Luc, it will work.”

“He’s right. I should have courted her as myself. But one lie begets another and here we are asking your brother—”

“Asking me to do what?” Peter interrupted finally, tired of the overdramatic little scene.

“To woo Kate,” Reggie said, turning to face Peter. “It’s a smashing plan and we’d likely have to resort to it even if Mansfield knew Luc to be a viscount.”

Woo Kate.

The idea was completely absurd.


“Woo her?” he repeated the phrase in his head. “Certainly she will have no lack of male suitors who will likely achieve the same ends you desire from me. With more chance of ultimate success. If the problem is that Kate must marry before Bianca may, courtship will hardly be enough.”

“Oh, don’t worry, big brother, that I am asking you to sacrifice yourself in such a way for your lifetime. A week will be plenty of time for a distraction and to ensure Kate feels settled enough that she allows Bianca and Luc to become engaged.”

The plan was deeply flawed. That much was obvious to him. In fact, Reggie and Luc’s whole ridiculous charade was half-cocked and destined for not only failure but chaos. An earl pretending to be a tutor? It was like some Canterbury Tale or one of Shakespeare’s comedies. Not the stuff of a happy marriage.

And yet . . .

Woo Kate?

He had watched her in London this past spring, all dark beauty, intense eyes, and quick, often scathing wit. But each time he was presented with the flirtatious, confident woman, he couldn’t shake the memory on which the present was overlaid: that of a young girl, chin quivering with suppressed emotion, vulnerable and desperately lost. He remembered feeling equally lost inside, not knowing how to help her but understanding that that emotion was an attempt to mask the hurt feelings of a rejected child.

He’d recognized those feelings well. After all, his relationship with his late father had not been dissimilar. But she’d lost her mother that same afternoon. Returned home to learn that she had passed, even as she had professed to hate her only an hour earlier. That moment had hit Peter hard because it made him think again about his own complex relationship with his father.

But at sixteen, expressing thoughts that complex in order to soothe her grief had been impossible and that failure remained with him every time he saw her again.

“Asquith—”

“Dore,” Lucian interrupted. “We’ve managed to keep my identity from the servants thus far.”

Peter laughed. “You truly believe no one has recognized you? I understand how my brother arrived at such a ridiculous scheme, but I always took you for a more serious fellow.”

“Orland,” Lucian Dorlingsley said, a bit sheepishly. “I’m in deep now. I love Bianca, and I have reasonable hope that she will accept my proposal—”

“Yours or that of Dore?” Peter asked.

“We are one and the same.” But from Lucian’s defensive tone, Peter knew the point was taken.

“Well, I cannot support this scheme, and I detest that knowledge of it has made me complicit even if only by the sin of omission. However, as I am unmarried, I will consider on the suitability of Catherine as a match.”

Reggie grinned and instantly Peter regretted his words. His brother would take that slight concession and run with it. It would be a very long week.



Home. Kate looked out from the carriage with that twin sense of dread and joy. She wished she could have forestalled this moment a few days more, only returned with company. But it was necessary to arrive in advance of their guests, to arrange for all the entertainments she and Henrietta had designed: the picnics and evening dances, afternoons at tennis and archery. And the hunt. Her father would see this unwelcome imposition as a prime opportunity to undertake the sport he loved best. Even if Kate detested it. It was one matter on which she had no influence.

“It looks just the same as always,” Kate said.

“Were you expecting the house to have changed?” Her stepmother looked at her quizzically. Then the carriage door opened and there was her father striding toward them, sending the milling servants scattering about. Henrietta climbed over Kate, met him as he reached the door, and slid down into his waiting embrace.

Kate watched for a moment and then handed her portmanteau to the waiting footman and alighted from the carriage herself. That was a relationship she did not understand. The marriage, yes. Her father had been widowed and desirous of both an heir and a companion. He had gotten one but in the last three years lost the other. After all, Henrietta was more often away than at home.

Kate passed the happy reunion   and stepped into the house.

“Good afternoon, Miss Mansfield,” the butler said. “Good to have you home again.”

Kate acknowledged him with a nod but took the words for the empty nicety that they were. She knew very well that he had little liking for her. No one at the hall did.

No, she was far more interested in finding her sister. Perhaps this house party would finally be a time that they could reaffirm their sisterly bond.

Bianca.

But instead of her sister, there was only the housekeeper and a handful of footmen and maids taking charge of the luggage, hats and gloves.

A thunder of footsteps drew her eyes to the staircase where Thomas was running down, crying, “Mama!”

Kate smiled. He certainly looked healthy enough. She had been terribly worried three months earlier when her father had first written of his ill health. She had even suggested that they return home. But it was the height of the Season, and as they had made certain investments and agreed to attend certain events, Henrietta thought it best to wait until the next update to make a decision. Thankfully, the next letter had brought better news.

A few steps behind Thomas was an impossibly tall man who stopped at the foot of the staircase as her brother barreled toward Henrietta.

The new tutor?

“Look how big you’ve grown!” Henrietta enthused as she embraced her son. Then she looked up at the stranger, her smile welcoming. “And you must be Mr. Dore. My husband wrote glowingly of you.”

Yes, then. The new tutor he was. Interesting. If only his appearance had meant the end of Miss Smith’s tenure. Kate had never particularly liked their second governess.

“Mrs. Mansfield, what a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said.

“My daughter, Catherine.”

But where was Bianca?

He turned to Kate. He really was a rather tall man, with heavy features in a gaunt face.

“Mr. Dore,” she said with a small smile. Then she looked about. “But where are my sister and father?”

“In Eastbourne, to pick up the new horses,” Thomas interjected.

“They are due home any day now,” Mr. Dore added. “We thought you would be them.”

“Ah yes, the horses,” Henrietta said.

Her father had been purchasing horses from the Lathams’ breeding farm for years now. Claimed they had the finest thoroughbreds in England. Now that she had spent quite a bit of time in London and among the first families of the country, Kate had heard many people claim to have the finest this or that. It didn’t really matter if they did or didn’t, because who was to say otherwise? Now when she heard anyone express something as “the finest,” she tended to dismiss it out of hand. She much preferred something that was good and stable. Reliable.

Perhaps that was why she had not yet found a husband. She shut down that thought, which was far too often present in her mind, and focused on the tutor.

“And Bianca, as well?”

Luc looked sharply at Kate.

“Yes, Bianca, as well.”

She struggled to bite down the disappointment and impatience. Frustrating as it was, she had to remember that she could not control the world, even if she wished to.

“Well, I suppose we shall just have to get to work without them,” Henrietta said. “Go on, dearest, settle in before lunch.”

Her stepmother was right. There really wasn’t any time to think on it anymore. She had a house party to plan.




After a nap, Henrietta, Thomas, and Kate took tea in her mother’s sitting room, a cozy little configuration that had never happened quite that way before.

“He’s better than Miss Smith,” Thomas said, in response to his mother’s question about his new tutor. “He says we can learn just as well out of doors as in the schoolroom.”

Kate caught her stepmother’s eye over her brother’s head. However, Henrietta didn’t seem at all disturbed by this nontraditional method of instruction. Of course, one of Henrietta’s flaws was that she was woefully uneducated so it likely didn’t even occur to her. As much as Kate adored her stepmother, on occasion, she had been embarrassed at Henrietta’s lack of knowledge. However, her sweet disposition, and skill at both humor and putting others at ease, had made her popular amongst the other matrons in London.

“Well, you look quite healthy, my love,” Henrietta said, pulling him into her embrace. “You shall be at Eton in no time at all.”

“And after Eton, I wish to travel the world! Mr. Dore has been everywhere. Have you been everywhere, Mama? Has Kate?”

“Only so far as London,” Kate said. “But that is almost everywhere. Or rather, there seems to be at least someone from everywhere in London.”

London at that moment seemed so far away. Yet home was strange and empty with neither her father nor her sister present. Despite her initial disappointment, in some ways the space provided a relief. Allowed Kate to find a new way to be at Hopford Manor. Allowed her to try and find a middle ground between the Kate of London, Brighton, and Bath and the Kate of Watersham. Even allowed her not to feel that Thomas found her lacking compared to his other sister, who was bright and bubbly.

Not that she spent much time dwelling upon ridiculous thoughts such as those. Not when there was so much to be done. Of course, Mrs. Marshall, the housekeeper, had been preparing everything to the specifications Henrietta had laid out by post. But even so, there were so many details to attend to.

After tea, when Thomas was sent back to the schoolroom, she spent the rest of the day with Henrietta and the housekeeper. While they had both now attended a good many house parties, neither had hosted one before. Kate was, as usual, determined that if she was to do a thing, she must do it well. Perfection was the only possibility.