Chapter 13

Three evenings later, Kate found herself sitting in the back row of chairs in Lady Atherton's salon, waiting for the renowned opera singer Madam DuClaire to begin her concert. Or, more accurately, waiting for Lord Haversham to appear.

After his scandalous suggestion they dance a third dance at Lady Camden's, she'd scrutinized his behavior more closely, trying to decide if the earl was showing signs of partiality toward her. The last two evenings, he'd been his usual acerbic self, and she'd welcomed the return of their spirited exchanges. However, her opinion of him had undeniably altered.

When she'd come home from Lady Camden's, she'd gone straight to the receiving room, taken the infamous list out of the drawer, crumpled it up, and thrown it on the fire. She'd tell Nathan, if he ever asked about it, that she would have to pay the forfeit. Not that she'd mind now. She couldn't summon regret over taking the wager, though. That list had unexpectedly made her focus more keenly on Lord Haversham's good qualities.

"Pardon me, but is this seat taken?" The man himself appeared as if summoned, and Kate flushed.

"Yes, it is. I'm saving it for a gentleman who's eternally late to every gathering." Kate pursed her lips but then relaxed them into a smile.

"I cannot be late if the entertainment isn't screeching yet." Haversham made a face as he sat down next to her.

"Madame DuClaire is a French opera singer, my lord. She does not screech." Kate wasn't a great fan of opera, but she'd heard the lady was talented and could move audiences to tears. "I hope you are prepared to eat those words."

"As easily as I did the cake, Miss Locke." He gave her a droll look.

Kate sputtered, trying not to laugh as the madame took her place in front of Lady Atherton's large fireplace, adorned with green and white garlands for the festive occasion.

"Shhh." Haversham shushed her, giving her a wicked glare. "Control yourself, Miss Locke. Madame DuClaret is about to begin.

Kate swallowed her laugher and rapped him on the arm briskly with her fan. The man was more incorrigible than a twelve-year-old boy.

Madame DuClaire began with the aria "Salce" from Rossini's Otello , and Kate settled down in her chair, determined to enjoy the music, even if she didn't understand a word of Italian. She'd just begun to ignore the words and let herself be carried away by the tune when a whisper caught her attention.

"I'd say by the level her screeching's reached, someone's told Desdemona her husband's about to kill her." Haversham had leaned his head slightly toward her, his lips directly beside her ear.

Kate gasped, fighting to keep in the laugh that threatened to explode from her.

"I know if my wife caterwauled like that, I'd be the first to strangle her."

Biting her cheek to try keep her face under control, Kate was mortified when she began to shake with mirth and tears of repressed laughter trickled down her face. She would kill the wretch this time, make no mistake.

"You really must behave yourself, Miss Locke." Lord Haversham shook his head, his face solemn as though they were in church. "Laughing at such a divine singer is really beneath you. Your governess should've taught you better."

She opened her mouth to retort, but Nathan, seated on her other side, squeezed her hand so hard she gasped.

"Behave yourselves." Her brother's threatening look didn't disturb Kate in the least; she'd grown up with Nathan trying to tell her what to do.

"Tell him that," she mouthed to her brother, who leaned forward to glare at Lord Haversham.

Haversham shrugged, looking as though butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, and motioned toward Madame DuClaire, who'd moved on to an aria from Beethoven's Fidelio .

Kate kept her eyes forward, though her heart beat in a strange little rhythm when she sent glances askance at Lord Haversham. The man was incorrigible, but she had to admit she enjoyed his company.

At the intermission, Kate, Nathan, and Lord Haversham all rose to stretch their legs. She was afraid Nathan might say something to his friend about his disruptive behavior, but he simply gave a tsk and turned to speak to Miss Hunt-Smythe.

"Are you enjoying the concert, Miss Locke?" Lord Haversham smiled pleasantly at her, for all the world as though he'd not been acting like a schoolboy in his first term.

"Very much, my lord. When I can keep my mind on the music."

"Are you afflicted with a wandering mind? I am sorry to hear it." The earl put on a teasing face. "I do hope you will remember me when I'm gone."

Kate raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware you were going somewhere, my lord."

He chuckled. "Neither was I until this afternoon." Haversham glanced down at her. "But I will be quitting London in the morning, I fear."

Startled, Kate almost swayed toward him, but caught herself just in time. "Where are you going on such short notice?"

"Eden Hall, my estate in the north, near Carlisle."

"Carlisle." Far to the north. Almost a week's journey. Kate frowned. She wasn't sure she liked the idea of Haversham's absence. She'd become accustomed to seeing the earl on an almost daily basis. Now he'd be gone for some weeks, in the middle of the Season.

"You'll be gone for a month or more, will you not?"

"Sadly, yes. My steward there was thrown from his horse and has broken his leg." The earl shook his head. "I seem to be having more difficulties with my stewards these days." He offered his arm, and Kate took it. "I must go and manage things so I can hire a temporary replacement until Farnsworth is back on his feet—literally."

"There's no one else you can send to interview stewards?" The prospect of facing the ton 's entertainments without the earl's witticisms to divert her was grimmer than Kate would've believed.

"I am the Earl of Haversham, Miss Locke. It's my duty to see to the running of the estates." He raised his eyebrows provocatively. "Dare I hope your question means you will miss me when I'm gone?"

"As much as one misses a sore thumb when it ceases to hurt." The quip came automatically to her lips, but it was far from the truth.

"Ah, well, then I must make a request of you while you are kicking up your heels in my absence. Let us get some lemonade. I must have something to sustain me through another bout of Madame DuClaire's attempts at song." He led her back toward the refreshment table where Nathan stood, gazing at their approach. "I wondered if you might look after Letitia while I'm gone? Make sure she continues to put herself forward as she has been doing the past evenings. I would hate to lose the meagre ground we have gained. And take her shopping again. I will not mind another bill for bonnets if it makes her more willing to attend social functions."

"I will be glad to befriend Lady Letitia, my lord." Kate glanced over at the lady in question, talking animatedly to Bertie Symmons once more. She might have her work cut out for her if Bertie continued to monopolize Lady Letitia's attention.

"Splendid." Haversham's face lit up as they approached her brother. "There is, however, another boon I would ask of you, if your brother allows it."

"What is that?" Kate frowned, confused.

"Ainsley, well met." Haversham handed her over to Nathan. "I have a favor to ask of you, old chap."

"Thank you, Haversham, although we have already met this evening, if you remember." He glanced at Kate, who shrugged. "How may I help you?"

"I'm off to Carlisle in the morning. Deuced steward broke his leg, and I have to take the reins until I can find a replacement. I've asked Miss Locke to take my sister under her wing in my absence, which she has graciously agreed to do."

"Kate is free to do as she wishes with regard to spending time with Lady Letitia, Haversham. No need to ask my permission for that." Nathan looked as confused as Kate felt.

"Well, the favor is of a more personal nature." Haversham looked from her to her brother expectantly.

About to fly to pieces, Kate spoke up brusquely. "Spit it out, for goodness' sakes, Haversham. What scandalous thing do you wish to ask Nathan to do?"

Mouth puckering to restrain a smile, he addressed himself to her brother. "I would ask that you allow Miss Locke to write to me while I'm in Carlisle."

Kate gasped, her hand going to her throat while her heart took off at a gallop. Young ladies were not allowed to correspond with gentlemen to whom they were not related. The sole exception being the man to whom they were betrothed.

"Is this a declaration for my sister, Haversham?" Nathan's mouth had thinned into a straight line.

"It most certainly is not." Haversham looked completely offended. "I think I have more breeding than to ask for a lady's hand in the middle of a particularly noisy musical evening."

Heart slowing back to normal, Kate had to look away from Haversham and her brother lest they see an emotion on her face she would rather keep to herself.

"Then explain yourself, Marcus."

"As Miss Locke has agreed to take Letitia under her wing while I'm away, I wish for her to write and let me know how the Season is going for my sister."

Face now composed, Kate turned back to him. What the earl asked was reasonable, if Nathan would allow it.

"I'm certain Letitia will write to me but will not tell me if she has fallen further into her shyness. Aunt Alexandra will also send me correspondence. However, I doubt she will tell me anything other than which entertainments she and my sister have attended or the latest on-dit ." Haversham beamed at them. "This is where Miss Locke's letters will be invaluable in keeping me informed about my sister's progress." His gaze flitted from her to her brother. "If you prefer, Miss Locke could show you her letters before they are sent, just so you will know we are not sending violent love letters to one another."

Kate's cheeks heated hotter than a stove in January. She fixed the earl with a gimlet eye, although her tone was less severe. "I assure you, Lord Haversham, if you pen anything that smacks of love in your letters, there will be violence on my part."

Grinning, Haversham turned to Nathan. "Well, old chap? I can address my letters to Miss Locke to you if you prefer, so you can see everything is totally above board."

Her brother shrugged. "I think Kate has made herself perfectly clear, Haversham. I doubt my chaperonage of this correspondence will be necessary." He turned to Kate. "If you are willing to undertake it, sister? It is totally up to you."

The scheme seemed harmless to her, if rather exciting. With Nathan's permission secured, she assumed no one else would ever know nor care if she wrote to Haversham about his sister's well-being.

"Very well, Lord Haversham. Consider me your proxy chaperone while you are in the north." She cocked her head, considering. "How often would you like me to report to you?"

"I believe once a week should keep me amply informed." Haversham's gaze lingered on her face for a moment longer than strictly necessary. "My grateful thanks to you, Miss Locke. I will send the direction over by footman tomorrow." He bowed. "And I will return in a moment to accompany you back to your seat for the rest of the…entertainment. I hate to abandon you so abruptly, but I must attend to my duties as chaperone." He grimaced and nodded toward Lady Letitia and Bertie, still laughing and talking. "An obligation I gratefully pass on to you beginning tomorrow."

As Haversham's figure retreated across the room, Nathan turned to her with a smirk. "You may not be betrothed to the man, Kate, but he's given you a task fit for his countess. I wish you luck with managing Lady Letitia." He gazed across the floor at the lady in question, whose eyes were sparkling for the first time while out in public. "I suspect you'll need it."