Chapter 1
London, England
May 1818
“You simply must marry at St. George,” Countess Tinsdale exclaimed. “No wedding is complete without the perfect venue.”
Lady Katherine Baxton couldn’t help but think acquiring the groom needed for the afore-mentioned nuptials would be the most critical detail. Given the continued chatter of the surrounding ladies, hers was not the popular opinion.
“Where is Blackthorn taking you on your honeymoon?” another voice inquired, one Kate failed to identify.
Considering her engagement to the Duke of Blackthorn had yet to be announced, it was a bit premature to assume there would be a bridal trip. Just as this entire conversation was a tad presumptuous.
And entirely annoying.
Her marriage to Blackthorn might be inevitable; after all, the man had spoken to her father and asked him for her hand, but such information was secret for the time being. The busybodies digging for gossip could wait for a forthcoming announcement, the same as the rest of London.
“If it were me, I'd hold out for the biggest ring available. We all know Blackthorn can afford it.”
A familiar voice injected before someone could acknowledge Lady Francesca’s crass remark. “Kate, Father is looking for you.”
Kate silently thanked Valarie, her oldest sister, also known as Lady Wipstine. Though, seeing as her father had never inquired after her during prior social events, Kate recognized the interruption for what it was . . . a way to escape.
Beyond grateful, Kate played along. “Excuse us, ladies.” Out of earshot, she whispered, “I owe you my firstborn.”
Valarie laughed. “Seeing your firstborn could quite possibly be Blackthorn’s heir and he might have an opinion on the matter, a mere thank you will suffice.”
“Don't remind me,” Kate grumbled.
They continued in the direction of nowhere particular until her sister grabbed Kate’s arm and yanked her into an alcove at the side of the room.
Once released, Kate brushed at her gold silk ball gown, smoothing any wrinkles from her sister’s haste. Father would be displeased if she went about with a tear in her gown. Nothing out of place, Kate lifted a hand to her hair, the same dark shade as Valarie’s. Thankfully, and mostly due to the number of pins her maid had inserted, her long tresses had remained firmly piled on her head.
“Kate, if you’re not sure, don't marry him,” Valarie urged. “I know you wish to please Father, but not at the expense of your happiness.”
Abandoning her inspection, Kate folded her arms. “Seeing as how you married a man based on duty alone, your advice is rather hypocritical.”
“Not duty alone. I knew Wipstine would fit with me. And we have. I harbor no regrets when it comes to my marriage.”
“Referring to your husband by his title is hardly an endorsement for endearing affection.”
“There are many levels of affection.” An unfamiliar twinkle brightened Valarie’s eyes.
“I care for Blackthorn.” The duke was a good man. She could do far worse.
“Enough to share his bed?”
Kate’s cheeks flamed. “Since I'm marrying the man, I certainly hope so.”
“You ladies are being rather antisocial.” The words, uttered behind Kate, were teasing.
Recognizing the voice that had harassed her all her life, Kate sighed in relief. With the marital bed being the topic of choice, discovery by someone other than her sister Helena would be scandalous.
“Tell Kate she is being ridiculous marrying Blackthorn,” Valarie blurted.
“Kate, you are being ridiculous marrying Blackthorn,” Helena intoned.
While others merely tolerated their siblings, Kate loved her sisters more than sentiment could convey. A blessing since their presence was how she’d endured the rigidness of their father. She’d grieved their loss when they’d married and moved to households of their own. Her love didn’t absolve her frustration with them, though.
Valarie huffed. “It is a wonder I haven’t strangled the two of you.”
“Ah, dear sister, you would miss us terribly.” Marriage to a highly respected marquess hadn’t destroyed Helena’s cheekiness, much to their father’s dismay. Thankfully, Lord Hayward found it charming.
Valarie, on the other hand, did not. “You are both horrible.”
“Someday when we are as old and wise as you, we will learn to be more serious.” The glint in Helena’s eye showed nothing but sisterly affection. “Now, what is this about Blackthorn and Kate being ridiculous?”
“Nothing. Valarie just thinks she knows better,” Kate offered in an attempt to end the conversation.
“In this instance, I do. You will never be happy with the duke.”
Kate yielded to the need to roll her eyes. “Such an unimaginable prospect. How would anyone be happy married to a well-off, handsome, polite man who also happens to be a duke?”
“I’m not denying Blackthorn’s appeal. Just that he isn’t the man for you.” Given her bossiness, there was no refuting Valarie was the oldest of the three.
“As much as it pains me, I have to agree with Valarie.”
“Not you too, Helena?”
Why couldn’t she have been born an only child? Or perhaps replace them with additional brothers. Her existing male sibling had yet to meddle in her life. He was too preoccupied with being a perfect heir. Since he moved to his bachelor residence, she rarely saw him.
Helena continued, “Kate, we know you better than you’ll ever admit. You will be bored in a marriage based on duty and obligation.”
Too refined to stomp her foot, Kate resorted to narrowing her eyes. “Why would I? As I already mentioned to Valarie, the two of you are perfectly content with your husbands. Men you married as Father wished.”
Helena laughed while Valarie merely smiled. “You have much to learn if that is what you think. Father may be imposing and a tad frightening, but neither Valarie nor I would have married a man with whom we found discontent. There is more to James than one might think.”
The hint of naughtiness flaring in Helena’s eyes halted Kate from asking for clarification. She wasn’t as naive as her sisters thought. Helena, referring to her husband by his Christian name, implied plenty.
“Blackthorn and I suit just fine. For heaven’s sake, the man is the most sought-after bachelor. And he wants to marry me. Why can’t that be enough for the two of you?”
Valarie placed a gentle hand on Kate’s arm. “It’s not that it isn’t enough for us, but rather it isn’t enough for you.”
Complete ridiculousness. Why do I have to be saddled with sisters who care for my future? Why couldn’t they be more like their brother and only care for the succession of the family title?
Their interfering had become exhausting. “I sat through the same countless lectures from Father as the two of you regarding our responsibility to the dukedom. And like you, I will marry the man Father deems appropriate.”
“You have nothing to prove,” Helena whispered, and it nearly became Kate’s undoing.
As much as she blustered, her confidence in her future nuptials and prospective husband wavered. She didn’t doubt Blackthorn would make an exemplary husband and she’d find contentment in her marriage. He was beyond handsome and she’d be a fool to overlook every unmarried lady glaring at her with envy because she, Lady Katherine Baxton, daughter of the Duke of Cosgrove, had snared the most eligible bachelor during her first season out.
Perhaps Valarie hasn’t rescued me after all.
She’d much rather be sentenced with being interrogated about her not-yet-official betrothal, than subjected to the pity her sisters directed at her.
“I need to visit the retiring room. I’ll return shortly,” Kate bluntly stated.
Giving her sisters no chance to interject or offer to join her, she fled the alcove.
In the opposite direction of the retiring room.