Further Than Passion Read online

  "Why would your mother spew such a vile tale?"

  "It's her way, but it's not mine. She can be very vicious."

  "Why don't you stop her?"

  "I've only recently grown old enough to where I can stand up to her. She makes many decisions without consulting me, which was necessary when I was younger, but I'm gradually wresting control. She doesn't want to relinquish it, so it's challenging."

  "Kate says you'll be a fine earl."

  "Kate is right." He glanced toward the hall. "Will Mrs. Fitzsimmons be joining us?"

  "I believe it's her nap time"—she winked—"and she's a very heavy sleeper."

  "Marvelous."

  He led her to the sofa and sat down. When she would have seated herself next to him, he tugged her onto his lap, her bottom balanced on his thigh, and he tipped her forward so that her breasts fell onto his chest.

  She wondered what he had in mind, and was already deliberating as to how much she'd allow, and she was

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  sure she'd allow quite a bit. She was no simpering miss. From her mother's experiences, she was aware of the trouble in which men and women could entangle themselves, but she wasn't about to forego the naughty behaviors he'd attempt—although she wouldn't let him go too far.

  A female had to keep some of her secrets, had to give him a reason to visit again.

  "How long can you stay?" she asked.

  'Till Mrs. Fitzsimmons arrives and chases me out." He grinned. "If I'm lucky, she won't awaken till tomorrow morning."

  She grinned, too. "Why don't I lock the door so we're not disturbed?"

  "Why don't you?"

  She probably should have been worried or afraid about being sequestered with him, but she wasn't. If they spent a few hours together, who was to protest? There was no one to catch them, so there would be no damage to her reputation, and as to what Christopher might instigate, he would never hurt her.

  He helped her to her feet, and she raced across the floor, spun the key, and hurried back. With open arms, he was waiting for her, and he pulled her close and kissed her, his lips resting lightly upon hers.

  Her first kiss! Bestowed by the most handsome, most dashing man she'd known since her gallant father. It was heaven, it was bliss, and, reveling in every second of the embrace, she shut her eyes and let him sweep her away.

  ******************

  Regina lounged on Lady Pamela's verandah, fanning herself and nibbling on a plate of candies that Pamela's

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  slothful servants had finally been trained to keep filled. With how lazy some of them were, it was amazing they retained their employment. At Doncaster, she'd have had them flogged, then discharged.

  Out in the garden, Melanie was walking with Kate. It was clear that they were arguing, and Regina was curious as to what had them in such a dither, although with Melanie it could be any frivolity.

  Regina had tried to rear her appropriately, to inspire good manners and a pleasant disposition, but a mother could only do so much. Despite her efforts to the contrary, Melanie was spoiled, and she didn't comprehend how privileged she was to be so pampered and about to marry Stamford.

  At the moment, he was playing hard to get, which was pointless. Regina had concluded that the marriage would transpire—if for no other purpose than to show Stamford that she would have her way.

  She had unlimited perseverance and stamina, and if Stamford had any notion of her resolve, he'd speed matters along by making an appointment with his tailor to be fitted for his wedding suit.

  Just then, both girls turned toward the verandah and frowned. It was obvious they'd been gossiping about her, and Regina scrutinized them. They were acting oddly, having furtive conversations and hurling barbed remarks. Melanie, in particular, had something eating at her, but she was too timid to voice it aloud.

  She was surly, defiant, eager to quarrel, and Regina was weary of her attitude. Melanie was about to be Stamford's wife, and the sooner she came to terms with the idea, the smoother the nuptials would be.

  The pair strolled down another path, and it was Kate

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  who held Regina's attention. She hadn't seen Kate in days and was shocked to note that her appearance was greatly altered.

  Her eyes were brighter, her skin more radiant, her hair more lustrous. Even though she was attired in the most drab gown, she was glowing, and as she stood next to Melanie there was no question who was more attractive.

  Unfortunately, Kate's mother's reckless beauty was surging to the fore, which bothered Regina enormously. The prospect of Kate's exuding some of the harlot's winsomeness and elegance had always terrified Regina, and her worst fears were being realized.

  There was an aura of... of joy about Kate, too. She emanated a happiness and contentment that hadn't been there previously.

  When had this happened? And what had caused it?

  Regina was disturbed. If she'd been pressed to describe the transformation, she'd have said Kate looked as if she'd fallen in love, which was ludicrous.

  What man with any sense would be interested? She was the impoverished daughter of a whore, and blood would tell.

  Still, Regina was concerned by the peculiar metamorphosis. She had the immediate future arranged, and she didn't want any surprises.

  As they advanced toward her again, Regina waved them to the verandah, and they marched slowly, trudging on as though facing the gallows. They approached and Melanie snidely queried, "What is it?"

  "You've been out in the sun too long."

  "So?"

  Her insolence had to end! Regina wouldn't have the

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  servants tittering that she couldn't garner respect from her own child. "Head to your room and have your maid lay out the clothes you're wearing for tonight's soiree. I'll be up shortly to check them."

  "I don't wish to go to my room."

  Regina counted to ten, calming herself before she behaved rashly where everyone could view her ill humor. When her temper was under control, she rose. Melanie stood her ground, though she was trembling.

  "Leave at once," Regina ordered very quietly, "before you get yourself into even more trouble." She grabbed Melanie's forearm. Anyone watching from a distance would have noticed nothing untoward, but Regina was pinching the skin so tightly that Melanie would be bruised.

  Melanie's eyes flooded with tears, from pain but also rage. "You think you can make me do anything."

  "Yes, I do."

  Melanie yanked away and flounced off, slamming the door as she stormed into the house, and not caring what the servants might say about her tantrum. A whipping would settle her down, and Regina would administer it as soon as she'd finished with Kate.

  Kate was hovering, embarrassed at having witnessed the squabble, but over the years she'd observed many, and she would keep her comments to herself.

  Regina returned to her chair, feigning boredom, as if she hadn't just been humiliated by her impertinent offspring, and gestured for Kate to follow.

  "My post was delivered from Doncaster, and I have correspondence for you."

  "From Selena?"

  "Yes. She's remitted a stack of outrageous bills, and

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  you'll need to sign the authorizations so I can send them to Mr. Thumberton for disbursement."

  As a female, Kate couldn't function as Selena's trustee, so her mother had named the attorney Thumberton. But for some reason, she'd dictated that Kate review and approve the payments before they went to the solicitor. Regina figured the deceased woman had wanted to force her two daughters to interact, which had resulted in a huge boon. For Regina!

  Selena's communications were conveyed to Don-caster; Regina examined them, and proceeded accordingly.

  How was naive, gullible Kate ever to learn that the receipts weren't genuine?

  Kate seated herself, pouring through the faux invoices, and she scowled, for once, perplexed by the lengthy columns of numbers. On a page of household expenditures, she
traced her finger over and over the line where Regina had added several cases of expensive wine to the list. She stared at the sum as if it were written in a foreign language.

  "It's such a large amount of money, isn't it?" she murmured. "It seems so excessive for one young girl."

  "Your sister is a terrible spendthrift. But then, so was your mother. She must take after her."

  Kate glanced up, and there was an anger about her that had Regina unnerved. While usually Kate didn't listen when Regina deprecated her mother, suddenly the remark had her steaming.

  "Why would you presume to be an expert on my mother's fiscal habits?"

  In the nearly two decades Regina had been acquainted with Kate, she had never dared sass on a single

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  occasion. No matter how Regina belittled or goaded, Kate swallowed down the insults and innuendoes, accepting that her parents' shame was her own to bear.

  "Why would you suppose?" Regina sneered. "When we originally moved to Doncaster, I analyzed the books. She was a spoiled, wasteful nuisance, who almost bankrupted the estate with her selfish acquisitions."

  "I don't believe you," Regina was stunned to hear her retort. It was the only truly rude, discourteous statement Kate had ever uttered in her presence, and Regina was even more disconcerted. What had come over her?

  "Your mother raised Miss Bella in the same lavish fashion, giving her everything, coddling her by making her assume she could have whatever she wanted. Bella can't practice restraint, because she's never had limits."

  "You don't know about what you're talking."

  Regina bristled. "If I needed your opinion, Kate, I'd ask for it, and I suggest you be silent. I've had enough disrespect from Melanie lately, and I'm not about to brook any from you."

  Not cowed in the least, Kate boldly met her livid gaze. "Something's not right about these debts, and I should like to discuss them with Mr. Thumberton. It would be very convenient to speak with him while we're in London. How would I contact him for an appointment?"

  "Write him a note." She pushed pen and ink across the table. "I'll have it dispatched to him, although why you'd imagine that such an important gentleman would allow you to bother him is beyond me."

  "I'll inquire politely," she said, oozing sarcasm.

  Regina watched as Kate drafted her request, and she smirked to herself.

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  Poor Kate. It was like stealing candy from a baby. She was so trusting, so unsuspecting.

  Thumberton would never receive her letter, and if she foolishly grew impatient and conferred with him behind Regina's back, she would be in for a surprise. With the false costs Regina had concocted to hide her embezzlement, there was a clear trail as to the thief, and it led directly to Kate.

  What a pity it would be to lose her! Of all the people at Doncaster, she was the easiest to mold, the simplest to manipulate. Their relationship had been so fruitful, so rewarding, but Regina hadn't expected it to last forever.

  As Kate sanded the ink and folded the message, Regina speculated as to whether she shouldn't parlay with Thumberton, herself, and set the conclusion in motion. From the very start, she was anxious to shape the ending, but there was no hurry.

  She had all the time in the world, while Kate's destiny had speeded up and was hurling toward her like a runaway carriage.

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  "Are you going to marry Melanie?"

  "Do you think I should?"

  Kate studied Marcus, trying to decipher his thoughts. He was across the room, naked, fussing with the fire, and grinning as if she'd just told a humorous joke.

  She was sprawled on his bed, naked, too, which was her normal condition when she was with him. They never crossed paths during the day, but by night they philandered as if each rendezvous would be their last, and Kate was astonished by how quickly she'd become a fallen woman.

  With Marcus urging her to transgress, the plunge had been effortless, and she hadn't found any reason to stop. Why deny herself such pleasure and joy?

  When her magical trip to London was concluded— which would be soon—and she returned to Doncaster, she wanted to have as many perfect memories as possible. There was such a short time remaining, and she was convinced that this would be the only enchanted,

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  special thing that would ever happen to her, which certainly put her mother's predicament into perspective.

  Kate had always judged her mother harshly, had viewed her abandonment through the narrow scope of childhood, her opinions colored by Regina. But had her mother's feelings for Selena's father been akin to Kate's for Marcus? Had her mother been consumed, obsessed, addicted to him and what he brought to her life?

  For once, Kate was examining her mother's affair from a different angle, from that of a female hopelessly in love with the wrong man. If their situations were at all similar, the poor woman hadn't stood a chance.

  Kate never revealed her sentiments to Marcus. The mood of their furtive romance was light and gay. They trifled and flirted, they engaged in forbidden conduct, but their conversations never delved into any crucial topic, or focused on their lives away from his bedchamber.

  They were sealed in a cocoon, where they were separate and detached from their real selves, and the outside world had no impact. If they ran into each other belowstairs, how would she react? If she was walking down the hall, or sitting at supper, and he suddenly appeared, what on earth would she say to him?

  He finished with the fire and approached, climbing onto the mattress, and stretching out, both of them on their sides and facing each other.

  "Will you?" she asked again.

  He'd already forgotten her question. "Will I what?"

  "Marry Melanie?"

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  His answer was nagging at her. While she was sequestered with* him, it was easy to pretend that external concerns didn't signify, but more and more, she was troubled over his probable response.

  As was typical of their association, he never mentioned the purpose for Kate's being in London, never talked about Melanie, or squired her about town. His matrimonial plans were a mystery, and Kate was frantic to determine what they were.

  She'd assumed she could have a frivolous amore, that she could frolic without regard to the consequences, but she'd miscalculated. She couldn't be impassive and uninvolved. In the end, he'd break her heart, and she had to buck up so that the pain wouldn't be too terrible.

  If he chose Melanie, Kate would have to flee Doncaster. She couldn't reside in the same house with him, especially with what she'd learned about marital intimacy. She couldn't bear to lie awake at night visualizing how he was fornicating with Melanie just down the hall.

  So what would she do? Where would she go?

  She'd toyed with the idea of moving in with Selena. Her sister was sweet enough to consent, but considering her impoverished state, it wouldn't be fair to impose. Kate's other option was to press Christopher for a settlement so that she could support herself, but Regina would never agree, and Kate couldn't predict if Chris would stand up to her or not.

  Recently, Kate was bothered that no aid had been extended to her. She'd never doubted Regina's contention that she wasn't entitled to any financial assistance, but why shouldn't she be? She was the daughter of an earl, and she'd lost her position simply because

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  her father had died. Why should the tragedy have negated her right to subsistence?

  They were scheduled to be in London two more weeks, and she had to have some clue as to what would transpire when she left. What was in store?

  "Sure, I'll marry Melanie," Marcus said, as if he'd given the subject no more thought than he would what shirt to wear.

  "Don't be flip," she scolded. "I'm serious."

  "But how can my reply matter to you one way or the other?"

  He was wiser than she, and he fathomed—as" she could not—that they couldn't have a civil dialogue about anything vital. There were no suitable answers he could provide to any of the is
sues that were eating at her.

  Still, she was resolved to hash it out. If he slew her with his words, so be it. It was better to die now than to perish later from anguish and sorrow for which she hadn't been prepared.

  "Do you think you could wed Melanie, but it would have no effect on me?"

  "No, but why wallow in debate? Why torture yourself?"

  Why, indeed? "With a bit of torture, maybe I'll figure out why I put up with you."

  Cocky and smug, he laughed. "You do it because you're crazy about me."

  He was correct, but she hated being so weak! She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, glad she had somewhere to look besides into his apathetic eyes. How could he be so important in her life when it was clear she was so insignificant in his?

  She forged on. She'd started the discussion, and

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  she'd see it through, despite how excruciating it was. "Why are you cavorting with me?"

  "Because it's pleasurable. Because I enjoy your company."

  She wasn't positive what she'd been expecting, but his justification wasn't anywhere close. It sounded as if she were his pet lapdog. "If you wed Melanie, what association have you envisioned for us?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Will we keep on as we have been?"

  "Certainly."

  His insolence made it apparent that he hadn't reflected on their circumstances, that when he dreamed about his future, he didn't picture her in it. "So you'll be sneaking in and out my door, causing the servants to gossip, and risking discovery by your bride at every turn?"

  "How I carry on won t be any of my wife's business."

  "Not even if you're sleeping with your paramour under her roof?"

  She'd finally managed to exasperate him, and he blew out a heavy breath. "Why would you fret about it, Kate? You can't tell me you have any loyalty to Melanie."

  Had she any allegiance? While she'd never been keen about Melanie, she'd never wish Melanie undue harm. Melanie was young and immature, cantankerous and infuriating, but after being raised by Regina, who wouldn't be?