‘So you are returned,’ a woman’s soft voice called to him, breaking into his reverie. ‘I had begun to think you had deserted me, sir.’
Lady Henrietta’s tone and pointed look made Andrew smile as she came up to him. He made her an elegant leg, offering her his arm as they resumed their walk towards the gallery.
‘I fear that this is but a flying visit, my lady. I must visit my mother—though I am bidden to return for the wedding.’
‘Must you leave so soon?’ Lady Henrietta’s dark eyes smouldered with barely hidden passion. ‘I have looked for your return these many days.’
‘I fear it is the King’s command. I am to attend the banquet and leave on the morrow.’
‘Then we have tonight?’ she said, her eyes meeting his so directly that he found himself a little repulsed by her insistence. In his mind he was comparing her to the fresh innocence of the village girl he had met so briefly, and she did not measure up in his estimation. There was at times something unpleasant about her overeagerness. ‘You will not desert me without at least giving me that, Andrew?’
He found himself unable to refuse her. When they last met he had been on the verge of asking her to wed him, and she had every right to expect some attention from him. He felt that he had been drawn into the net of her charms. In the past he had been content to take all that she offered. He was not sure why the idea of spending the night in her bed no longer held the same appeal.
‘Your father is very unwell,’ Lady Melford said to her eldest daughter a few days after Harry’s return. ‘I think he may not be able to take us to London as he hoped, Catherine.’
Catherine felt a sharp sting of disappointment, but she knew that both her father and brother had been quite ill as she had been helping her mother to nurse them.
‘I am sorry that Father is so ill,’ she said, putting on a brave face. She had been eagerly looking forward to the trip. ‘But I could not go away and leave you with all the trouble of nursing both Father and Richard.’
‘As to that, I have servants enough to help me,’ Lady Melford said. ‘I do not like you to be disappointed, Catherine. You are always a dutiful girl and you deserve some pleasure. Let me speak with your father. It is possible that we may be able to find some other way.’
Catherine was doubtful. Even if some of her neighbours were travelling to London, she did not see how she could go without her mother and father. She smiled at her mother to show that she did not mind, because she knew that it was highly unlikely she would be able to go.
A wistful sigh escaped her as she went back to her sewing after her mother had left the room. They would visit London another time, but it would be a shame to miss the royal wedding.
‘It is an insult,’ Lady Gifford declared. ‘To be forbidden the court when there is a royal wedding! I should be permitted to take my place with the other ladies in the cathedral. Surely I have been slighted enough?’
‘I am sorry, Mother,’ Andrew said, smothering a sigh of impatience. ‘But you brought your punishment on yourself. If you had been more circumspect, it would not have happened.’
‘You take against me when it is Lord Melford you should blame for all our troubles!’ she cried, her eyes flashing with temper. ‘That man stole our heritage and I shall never forget or forgive!’
‘That is not true, Mother,’ Andrew told her. ‘Lord Melford told me that he had made recompense for our loss when he sold the lands—and you have never spoken of this to me. The money was mine, not yours.’
‘I needed it to keep body and soul together until you were old enough to win favours from the King,’ she said, looking reproachful. ‘You know my husband was extravagant. How was I supposed to live?’
‘You should never have wed him,’ Andrew said coldly. ‘Be warned, Mother. The King has lost patience with you. He says that if you dare to come to court, he will have you imprisoned.’ He saw the anger and frustration in her eyes. ‘You must remain here on your estate and be thankful that you have your freedom.’
‘Freedom when I am a prisoner on my estates?’
‘It is better than being a prisoner in the Tower, madam.’ Andrew gave her a hard look. ‘I, too, am losing patience. You will stay here as you are bid—and you will make no more petitions to the King. If you do, I shall not try to help you. You will receive nothing from me. You have wasted your fortune on a scoundrel and must learn to live as befits your income.’
‘You are an unkind, ungrateful son!’
‘For what should I be grateful, Mother?’ His harsh stare made her look away. ‘You gave me little enough affection when I was a child—and I have made my own way in the world while you squandered what belonged to me on that rogue you married. Be thankful that I do not demand you return what Lord Melford paid you!’
‘I could not! It has all gone…’ She held a hanging sleeve to her eyes to wipe the tears. ‘You are so cruel to me, Andrew.’
‘I have been patient with you too long, Mother. You must obey the King or accept the consequences.’
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘If you cared for me at all, you would marry a rich wife and invite me to make my home with you in comfort.’
‘No, madam,’ Andrew said. ‘I may marry in time, but she will be a soft, gentle woman I can love—and you will not be welcome in my home.’
‘Unnatural son!’
‘If I am, you have made me so,’ Andrew replied. ‘If you had ever thought what your bitterness was doing to us as a family, it might have been different. It is hard to forgive you for bringing that man into this house. He destroyed your reputation, ill treated the servants—and wasted your fortune. You showed me no warmth or love, and can expect nothing now.’
‘Go then and leave me to my solitary life,’ she said. ‘One day you will be sorry for what you do now!’
Andrew bowed his head, turning to leave her standing there alone. She had gone too far and he would leave her to reflect on her foolishness. If she ceased her petitions to his Majesty and lived quietly on her estates, he would not see her go short of the comforts of life, but she must learn her lesson before she drove the King to carry out his threats.
Catherine looked at her father anxiously. She had been summoned to his bedchamber, where he lay propped against a pile of feather pillows. His cough had eased a little, but she could see that the fever had pulled him down. It was obvious that he could not take his family to London.
‘Are you feeling a little better, Father?’
‘Yes, at last,’ Rob said and frowned. Melissa was right. Catherine was a dutiful girl and she deserved a treat. ‘Your mother and I have been talking about this visit to court and we have decided that we shall send you to London. I have already taken a house for us, and Lady Anne Shearer will be a chaperon for you at court. She is to attend the wedding and you may go with her. Harry will accompany you to London, and he will be with you until after the wedding. Lady Anne will keep you with her once he leaves—and I should be well enough to join you in a couple of weeks or so.’
‘Lady Anne is to chaperon me at court?’ Catherine stared at him in surprise. Lady Anne Shearer was a good friend of her parents, particularly her mother, though they had not visited each other of late. ‘Are you sure it would be no trouble to her, Father?’
She could not keep the excitement from her voice, because she wanted so much to attend the celebrations for the union of the King’s eldest son to the Spanish princess!
‘Am I truly going, Father?’ she asked, her green eyes bright with happiness. She had never been as far as London in her life! ‘But what about my brother—and you? You have both been so ill.’
‘Your mother says that Richard