Kate forced a smile and a nod, allowing the veil of boredom to close over her. She listened politely as Robert regaled her with the happenings of the past week. His mother was in fine health, barring, of course, her anxiety over the chill he had contracted.
Kate, knowing her duty, said, “Nothing serious, I hope, Robert. You seem to be quite well now.”
Robert was delighted with her expression of concern. Though he thought the Miss Brandon to be a bit too vivacious upon occasion, he had always dismissed it as girlish spirits. Now, for instance, the true womanliness of her nature would be apparent to anyone.
He expanded most willingly upon the topic of his health, anxious to allay her concern about his illness.
Kate was near to screaming with vexation when Robert’s commentary was halted by the entrance of Filber, announcing the earl of March.
She nearly leapt from her chair, a radiant smile on her face. Rescue was at hand. She walked swiftly to the earl and stretched out her gloved hand.
Julien lifted her hand to his lips and murmured softly so that only she could hear his words, “My poor Kate. My timing is exquisite, is it not? What have we here? Dare I take it for a suitor?”
She bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud and raised her eyes to him in silent warning.
“Humph!” Robert had risen and stood alarmingly red-faced, his eyes narrowing upon the unwelcome intruder.
“Oh, do excuse me, Robert.” She pulled her hand slowly from the earl’s. Somehow she hadn’t noticed that the earl had held her hand overlong, much less kissed her fingers lightly.
“Mr. Robert Bleddoes, this is the earl of March, our neighbor.” She added smoothly, “The squire has been good enough to bring us news of Napoleon this morning.”
A strange transformation came over Robert. He appeared to shrink visibly, and he was able to murmur only a strangled greeting to the earl.
Julien seemed not to notice the stumbling phrases that were proffered and performed his greetings with his customary grace. He found himself being scrutinized, from his exquisitely tied cravat to his polished Hessians. He bore up under this well, quelling the set-down that rose automatically to his lips for such behavior. He thought with well-concealed amusement that much could be forgiven a man who was so obviously smitten and hiding it so poorly.
Julien was glad that he’d remained silent, for a chance glance at Kate’s face showed her to be in an agony of apprehension.
Robert managed to recover a modicum of self-assurance and observed in a tight voice, “I did not know that your lordship was acquainted with Sir Oliver.” He realized that he didn’t show to advantage next to the earl, that somehow his serviceable brown breeches and coat seemed perhaps a bit bland, perhaps a bit too serviceable, as if he and his clothes were fading slowly and inexorably into the wainscoting. His lordship wore a superfine light-baize coat that fit so well it seemed a part of him.
Robert cast a surreptitious glance at his near-conquest to see if he could read her feelings about her noble guest. What he saw sent red flashes of danger shooting through his mind. He reluctantly pulled his eyes away when he became aware that the earl was answering him.
“Yes, Miss Brandon and her brother were riding in the village. We met there.”
“But Harry isn’t here any longer.”
“True, but I contrive to make do with his sister. She is, upon occasion, sufficiently charming. And she fishes well, for a female, of course. Do you not agree, sir?”
“Well, naturally, certainly. Of course I agree. She is all that is charming and modest and demure. I say, do you really fish, Miss Katharine? Surely not.”
“She tries, sir, she tries. Perhaps some years from now she’ll come close to my skill.” To his surprise, she seemed to have lost her tongue, and Robert was tugging unconsciously at his cravat, even while he reddened with anger. Julien felt laughter bubble up but sternly held his amusement in check. He shifted his attention back to the squire, who looked fit to slay him, and asked easily, “What news have you of Napoleon?”
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