Chapter Six

S ince before moving Holly and her sister into Kingston House, Gavin had made it his responsibility to have Felton Manor made livable again. Not because he wanted them to leave or because he desired to prove his uncle wrong. Well, he did wish to do that, but his ultimate goal in restoring Felton Manor was because it had been evident that Holly desired it. The way her shoulders would tense up whenever he mentioned the old farm displeased him greatly, and he had the unrelenting urge to smooth away her anxieties and eliminate all the worries of her world—even if she continued to argue against him any time he offered to make things easier for her.

He understood her hesitation, himself familiar with the desire to control all aspects of his life without needing to rely on anyone. Holly hadn't been able to depend on any one person in a long time. But he would simply have to show her that she could trust him to take care of her problems, even if she didn't relish the idea.

He first needed to figure out all that was wrong with Felton Manor and what needed to be tackled first. Gavin began visiting stonemasons and laborers in the local village during the past week, searching for men who could be hired to do the work. He even planned to buy back some of the livestock Holly had sold to Mr. Granger. It would take time for the farm to be profitable, but he didn't mind waiting. Holly had made it clear that everything she received from Gavin was a loan and that he would be paid back in full. Who was he to keep her from doing so?

The tree removal was the most pressing issue, and it would be the most dangerous part, but Gavin was sure once the pricing had been settled on, the house repair would be completed by the beginning of autumn.

Gavin had unwittingly surprised Holly with the ledger he had begun to use to record all the expenses. The colorless cheeks and haunted expression on her face when he showed it to her one afternoon had gutted him. He hadn't intended to make her feel bad. It was his way as a banker to keep ledgers on all expenses, and he had only wanted to show her that the damage wasn't nearly as bad as he first surmised. But the rate at which the debt had accumulated clearly scared her. Holly had become withdrawn for a day or so, her shoulders drawn up in a tense strain whenever he saw her.

Eventually, it disappeared, but Gavin knew he had to handle the situation more delicately. He continued recording the expenses, since he had promised her he would do so, but he did not show the ledger to her again. And soon, he would be adding another item to the list—the cost of hiring a foreman. Since he would be escorting Holly and her sister to London to attend the upcoming season, he needed to find a trusted man to oversee the reconstruction while they were away in town.

It would be a good, distracting time for Holly to be in London, as she could pick out all new furnishings and décor for the house. It would give Mr. Granger and Mr. Lemon time to finish their work, and once that was complete, they could return to Felton and Holly herself could interview the tenants who would allow her to start paying him back as she was so insistent on doing. Or, if he could get her to accept that there was no need for repayment, she could keep the money for herself and have the independence she seemed to crave without the stress and burden of the debts that had weighed on her for so long.

Gavin had gone out that morning to speak with Mr. Timothy Lemon, a foreman who was willing to lead the job at Felton House. He was a tall, middle-aged man with four sons who worked with him on the farm. He had agreed to oversee Felton Manor for a reasonable sum, and Gavin trusted him, having inspected the man's house which he had built himself.

Walking through the front door of Kingston House just before noon, he was handing his overcoat to Dougherty when he heard a smatter of conversation from the parlor. Though he had planned to head to his offices, he followed the unknown voices instead and, coming into the parlor, saw an unfamiliar young couple seated on a sofa. It was clear that the butler had just seen them in, and turning at the sound of his footsteps, Mr. Jorden bowed at Gavin.

"The Paynes, my lord."

Ah, yes. The letter Holly had handed him that morning. He had read it before realizing that she probably hadn't intended on giving it to him in her rush to leave the dining room. Still, he had read the short note and knew they were expected at noon.

Gavin mustered up a polite smile. Dressed in a bright orange gown with white blossoms stitched into the hemlines, Mrs. Payne sat beside her husband, her tightly curled hair framing her heart-shaped face. Mr. Payne wore a blue coat with a cream-colored waistcoat and a small orange flower tucked into his breast pocket, complementing his wife's dressings, and he stepped forward to greet Gavin.

"Lord Bairnsdale, may I introduce myself. I am Mr. Bertram Payne and this is my wife, Charlotte," Mr. Payne said, bowing his head at Gavin.

Gavin would have to entertain these people until Holly or Katrina appeared. He came around the chair opposite them.

"The pleasure is all mine. Please, sit," he said, and they did so. "Um, Mr. Jorden if you could bring us some refreshments and possibly inform the baroness?"

The butler nodded and disappeared.

"May we offer our deepest sympathies to you, my lord," Mr. Payne said once they were alone. "We are so very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Gavin said, though he felt a trifle uneasy accepting condolences when his uncle had been such a minor part of his life. "Were you friends of my late uncle?"

"Oh yes," Mrs. Payne said, bobbing her head up and down. The pitch of her voice was high yet soft. "We were often guests here at Kingston House. The late baron was always so generous to his friends and neighbors." She frowned sadly. "I can't imagine it's been easy on poor Holly."

"I'm sure it's been dreadfully difficult for her these past few weeks," Mr. Payne said with a nod. "How is dear Ducky fairing?"

The nickname piqued Gavin's interest.

"Ducky?"

"Oh, yes," Mrs. Payne said with a quick smile, her curls gently bouncing off her cheeks. "It's a nickname we have for her."

"I see. And why Ducky?"

"Well, you see, when we were younger, Holly fell into a duck pond."

Gavin waited for her to continue, but she didn't, nor did her husband. He blinked.

"Is that all?"

"Well, it was a duck pond," she said slowly as if he wasn't following. "So, we call her Ducky. Affectionately, of course."

The wit of these country folk was either the driest ever, or there was just a simplicity to it that he didn't quite grasp. Those matching outfits seemed suddenly more annoying. Nodding, he spoke.

"Yes, well, the baroness is faring well enough, given the circumstance," Gavin said. "I'm sure you know she was very close to my uncle."

"Yes, she was. You must understand, Holly is one of our dearest friends," Mrs. Payne said, her fingers curling around her husband's arm. "We all grew up together."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Well, I assure you both that she is faring quite as well as could be expected."

"I'm so glad," Mrs. Payne said, a pitying expression crossing his face. "Especially after everything she's been through. It's good for her to have some sort of comfort." Gavin's brow lifted, questioning. "I only mean, it was kind of you to let her remain in Kingston House, considering the condition of Felton Manor."

"Yes, unlucky that," Mr. Payne said, shaking his head. "But then, when hasn't Ducky been unlucky?"

Gavin's attention focused on the man who spoke so familiarly about Holly. He seemed to pity her, and for some reason, it grated Gavin's nerves that a couple who wore matching outfits would pity someone as capable and resilient as Holly.

"How do you mean?"

"Oh, only that Ducky has always had her fair share of trouble," Mrs. Payne said just as Mr. Jorden returned, followed by two maids. One carried a tray of beverages, while the other had a tiered platter full of tiny sandwiches and pastries.

"The baroness will be down momentarily, my lord," Mr. Jorden said, his voice dropping as he leaned in. "There was an ink issue."

"Ink?" Gavin repeated somewhat confused and Mr. Jorden nodded. "Very well then," he said, facing the Paynes once more. "Ah, what sort of trouble were you talking about?"

"Well, her father died when she was still very young," Mrs. Payne said, reaching for a sugared teacake. "And didn't leave much for the family to live on. Lady Eloise, Holly's mother, was the daughter of an earl and though most believed her marrying landed gentry a step down, she was really quite pleased to live in the country. But she was a nervous sort of woman. Suffered greatly from anxiety."

"Until she passed, seven years ago," Mr. Payne said, stirring his tea. "That was unfortunate as well."

"Yes, and then there was the… well…" Mrs. Payne stopped suddenly, peering at her husband. She swallowed, seemingly having spoken out of turn. "Well, nothing."

Gavin wouldn't normally have pressed the apparent hesitation, but he noticed something pass between the couple and was curious.

"What is it?"

"Well, Ducky and I were once engaged, if you can believe it," Mr. Payne said, a small laugh escaping him as his gaze dropped. He squeezed his wife's hand. "For a short time."

Gavin stared at the thin man. He wasn't sure why, but he suddenly had a bad taste in his mouth. He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of his minty lemon confectionaries and unwrapped it, popping the sweet in between his teeth as he stared at Mr. Payne.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, although it was quite an uneventful period in our lives," Mr. Payne said, reaching for a tiny cucumber sandwich. "My darling Charlotte here encouraged me to make Ducky an offer."

Gavin frowned, looking at the man's wife.

"Why was that, Mrs. Payne?"

"Well, Ducky needed some help and I thought it was a good idea. I thought my Mr. Payne would be able to support her."

"Yes, and my Mrs. Payne was so desperate to help out our friend. So, I proposed and Ducky accepted, but she ended it several days later," Mr. Payne said, looking at his wife. "She knew my heart would only ever belong to Charlotte."

Mrs. Payne blushed as she gazed adoringly at her husband and Gavin had to stifle a groan. Good god, where in the world was he that people expressed themselves so loudly.

"Poor Ducky," Mrs. Payne said, facing Gavin once more. "She never gets her fair shake, does she?"

"No, she doesn't. Which is unfortunate. Such wit, gone to waste," Mr. Payne said.

Gavin squinted at the man.

"Waste?"

"Well, her marriage to John wasn't very effective. Now she's a widow and likely won't marry again until after her best years are behind her," he said, leaning forward to pick up a teacake, which he dipped into his teacup before taking a bite. "It's a shame, really."

Gavin lifted one brow as he watched the man, annoyed that he had effectively denounced Holly's entire life as a waste. Who did he think he was making such a proclamation?

"Poor dear," Mrs. Payne said. "It really is a pity her marriage was so short. People in town are already saying it was a sham."

"A sham? How so?"

"Well, everyone knew how close her and John were, but to marry a man on his deathbed? It smacks of desperation."

Gavin's irritation was growing. Holly was not desperate. Her situation may be, but she as a person was not.

"But no one is surprised," Mr. Payne chimed in again. "She is the unluckiest woman in Lincolnshire."

"It's true," Mrs. Payne agreed. "Poor unlucky Ducky."

It seemed the most either of these two could say was poor Ducky this and poor Ducky that. It was annoying. In fact, it was more than annoying, and Gavin had a distinct desire to rob them of the ability to say such things, to push their perspective of Holly in a different direction.

Before he knew what he was doing, Gavin leaned back in his chair and spoke.

"Well, poor Ducky might have applied to the baroness had she married my uncle," he heard himself say, knowing he would eventually regret it, though, for his life, he couldn't imagine when he might. "But I'm afraid that's not what happened."

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Payne asked, eyes wide.

"I mean the baroness is actually my wife."

The shock that appeared on both their faces was gratifying enough, but what surprised him was his deep satisfaction from saying it out loud.

Holly was his wife.

"Your wife?" Mr. Payne said.

"Yes. Proxy marriage, as it was, since I was overseas."

"A proxy marriage?" Mrs. Payne repeated, eyes wide. "Why, aren't those for soldiers during war time?"

Gavin shrugged.

"I always found them to be rather romantic myself actually," he lied. "I insisted on it, because I couldn't bear to be unwedded from her the day I decided I wanted her as my wife."

"Oh, my," Mrs. Payne replied, falling back. "Well, that is quite romantic."

Just then Holly entered the parlor, only to hesitate suddenly when she saw Gavin seated across from her guests. Gavin stood, unsure how she would take the next thing he would say, but then he couldn't let these people pity his wife.

"Ah, darling," he said, causing her to give him a startled stare. "I've just met your dear friends. It seems they were under the impression that you had married my uncle." He chuckled, looking back at the Paynes as if they had just told him the sky was orange instead of blue. "But have no fear. I corrected their mistake."

For several moments Holly just stared at him.

"W-what?" she asked as he held out his hand to her.

Thankfully, she took it. He frowned as he noticed the slightly blue tint to her skin, but drew her close as Mrs. Payne spoke.

"Holly, you never told us that you were engaged," she said, suddenly beaming after the shock had to warn off. "I had heard rumors that you and John were married, but this makes far more sense."

Holly's eyes went wide.

"Does it?"

"Of course, my love," Gavin said, guiding her to the settee beside him. "How could it not?"

She turned to him, her lips parted slightly as her teeth clenched and hissed below her breath.

"What are you doing?"

But Gavin only winked before turning back to the couple.

"Yes, Holly and I have been able to keep our correspondence a secret these past six months. She is a most proficient letter writer." He held up her hand, inspecting it. "Ink?"

She nodded, blushing slightly. Gavin chuckled and held her hand up to their guests.

"You see? But I'm sure you are aware of my wife's writing skills. Aren't you, Mrs. Payne?"

"Oh yes, of course," Mrs. Payne spoke, though her expression said otherwise.

"Yes. It was during my time abroad, reading her letters, that I realized what a prize of a woman she was, and how fortunate I was to know her," Gavin continued, ignoring the growing ferocity in Holly's glare. "I believe I proposed around January, though I had half a mind to do so before sending that Christmas letter. Do you remember, darling?"

Holly's face was perfectly blank, but the unchecked fury in her blue eyes only served to amuse Gavin. She was furious, and he didn't doubt that he was in for a tongue-lashing once their guests left, but he couldn't help it. He wanted her friends to see that she wasn't some unfortunate thing. In fact, she was a baroness, wealthy and beautiful, with a voice that seemed to wrap around his shoulders whenever she spoke.

"I… I don't remember," she said after a moment.

"Ah, no need to be shy, my love," Gavin said, turning back to face the Paynes. "These are close friends, after all."

"Well, that is… something isn't it?" Mrs. Payne said, evidently confused why her friend hadn't confided in her with such an important secret.

"Indeed, it is," Mr. Payne said, taking a small sandwich from the tiered plater, obviously unaffected by the news. "I believe the last time I visited the late baron, he mentioned that you were in Greece, my lord?"

"Yes, I was."

"I've never had to good fortune to travel abroad. If you don't mind me asking, what is Greece like?"

They all continued to chat for another twenty minutes before the Paynes finally stood, expressing their thanks for the hospitality, felicitations on their marriage, and condolences once more for their loss. Holly maintained a calm composure until they left. Once the Paynes were gone however, she turned on Gavin, practically shaking with rage.

"What on earth were you thinking?" She asked, furious. "Telling them we were married? And that foolish story about writing letters. Are you mad?"

"We are married. And I didn't like the way they held their noses in the air about you."

"That's just how their noses are."

"Well, they wouldn't stop blathering on, and… I didn't like it."

Holly paused at his confession. She frowned.

"What were they blathering on about?" she asked. When he didn't answer right away, her shoulders dropped. She apparently knew they had been talking about her. She cleared her throat and asked, "What did they say?"

"Nothing worth repeating."

"Tell me."

"I don't really see a reason to—"

"Please."

Gavin closed his mouth, pressing his lips firmly together. Exhaling loudly, he yielded, unable to disregard a direct plea from her.

"It was irritating, really. They kept saying poor Ducky—"

"Ducky?" she said, cutting him off. Her shoulders hitched up with tension once more. "Oh lord, they told you about Ducky?"

Her hands went to either side of her head, and her fingers pressed into her temples as if she were trying to ward off an impending headache.

"Well, it's hardly something to be embarrassed about—"

"You fall into a pond as a child and see what the brilliant minds of this village can't think up. One misplaced step and all of a sudden I'm unlucky Ducky for the rest of my life."

"Foolish nickname. It certainly wasn't as brilliant as they seemed to consider it."

There was a pause between them. For some reason, Holly looked at him as if she were seeing him for the first time.

"No," she said, her voice soft. "No, it wasn't brilliant at all."

"Rather the opposite actually," Gavin said slowly, staring at her. "I hardly think one misstep as a child should follow you your entire life. Especially when it's obvious you dislike it so much."

"It's not that I dislike it," she said, looking down. "It's just the unlucky part. Ducky I can handle, but unlucky Ducky I've always felt was… well, slightly cruel. Particularly because of all the bad luck that happened afterward. It was as if I was doomed by a self-fulfilling prophecy."

Gavin watched her momentarily, confused that he should suddenly feel grateful for her telling him something so personal. She had been hurt by the constant reminder that she was unlucky, and as preposterous as luck was, he didn't wish her to believe it of herself.

He moved closer to her a brought a hand up beneath her chin. She lifted her head, and though he could sense her sudden desire to pull back, she didn't.

"You aren't unlucky," he said, his tone rough.

Her blue eyes shined at his words. Her mouth opened slightly, catching his attention, and for the briefest of moments, he wondered what it would be like to brush his mouth over hers.

Dropping his hand immediately, he looked away to clear his throat. No. He shouldn't kiss her. Holly was not the type with whom he could play those sorts of games. She was the kind of woman who would only love one person, wholly and most keenly. And whoever that man might be, Gavin knew it wouldn't be the man she had been tricked into marrying. And since the only thing keeping their marriage from being legitimized was consummation, well, he simply had no choice but to not kiss her.

"You shouldn't have told them we were married. Now our annulment will be in jeopardy," she said after a moment, her voice rather huskier than a moment ago.

God, how it pierced him.

"Have no fear about that," he said. "Our marriage was done without either of our consents and as confounding as the Catholic church can be, it certainly won't hold in a court of law. And when it does go through, we will be able to part ways." He gave her a reassuring smile, though he wasn't pleased. "But until then, I won't have my wife disparaged as some sort of bad luck charm."

Holly's eyes opened, her gaze locking onto his.

"You can't stop people from seeing me how they do, especially the Paynes."

"I can and I did."

Holly frowned.

"Yes and now everyone in town will know that we're married. And regardless of what you say, I'm sure that will make our annulment harder." Holly sighed. "Whatever possessed you to tell them the truth?"

For a moment neither spoke and silence hung between them. But after a moment, Gavin shook his head.

"They pitied you," he said lowly. "I didn't like it."

Holly stared at him as if unable to comprehend his words and what they meant.

"No one likes being pitied, but some of us have no choice."

"I don't pity you, Holly."

"Are you sure? Everyone seems to."

"No," he said, inching ever slightly closer to her. "I don't."

His tone was serious, and his eyes fell on her lips. For a moment, he had the urge to move his hands down her arms, perhaps pull her into his chest in some sort of comforting grasp, but instead, he swallowed.

"I'm sorry for telling your friends the truth about our situation."

Holly seemed conflicted as she gazed back at him.

"It's all right, I suppose. But I warn you, all of England might know before the weeks' finished. Charlotte is a notorious gossip."

"I'm not particularly put off by that idea."

"What idea?"

"All of England knowing that you're my wife."

Her mouth opened slightly as a small crease pinched between her brows. Gavin found that he rather enjoyed the way her eyes widened at his words and his body seemed to react to her in a visceral way, particularly when he called her his wife.

Holly must have felt something, too, for the next moment, she took a step back and turned, leaving him alone in the parlor. Gavin watched her as she left, unsure of what to do next. A part of him wanted very much to follow and see where this thread of near constant yearning might lead, but the lessons of his youth remained steadfast.

When he wanted something, Gavin made it a point to avoid it. The slightest chance of not getting what he desired caused him to want to pursue every possible avenue to get it. But their marriage wasn't something he could have. Not for long, anyway. He couldn't let himself forget that.

*

For the next several days, Holly avoided him while he took great pains to learn all that he could about her. He made a few inquiries with the staff, but everyone who worked beneath Kingston House's roof only had high praise for Holly. It wasn't that he was searching for uncouth details about her, but he had never met a woman without any apparent faults or, at the very least, a past. Why he was so intent on knowing about her, he couldn't comprehend, but his gut urged him on.

One afternoon, when the skies had turned dark, canceling his plans to inspect the brewery that sat on the property's northern edge, he overheard Holly and her sister in the family parlor. He had planned to write his friend Derek Trembley to see about a card game when they reached London, when all of a sudden he heard Holly's throaty, surprising laugh, causing him to stop dead in his tracks.

What a voice , he thought as he unwittingly followed the sound. It had surprised him the first time he heard her speak and had become the singular thing he most anticipated when he woke up each morning.

She was laughing about something Katrina was saying. Suddenly an idea popped into his head. He hadn't asked Katrina about Holly. Who better was there to help him learn everything about his wife?

Spotting a maid down the hallway, he hurried towards her, though she appeared uncertain at his approach. She curtsied quickly.

"May I help you, my lord?" She asked.

"Might you draw the baroness out of the room for a moment?" he asked, hoping to question Katrina. "I would like a private moment with Miss Smyth."

The young maid's eyes widened, and her cheeks turned bright red. She began shaking her head violently.

"Oh, no, sir, please."

"What?" he asked, confused, before it dawned on him what she might be thinking. Dear lord . "Oh, no, no, you misunderstand. I don't wish—"

"What's all this?" Holly's voice sounded from behind them.

Gavin turned to see Holly dressed in one of her grey gowns. The mirth in her eyes hadn't yet disappeared.

"There's a problem with the laundress," Gavin said quickly, glancing at the maid. "It seems a dying issue has happened."

Holly's hands instinctively smoothed over her skirts. Aware that she was worried about her clothes, she took a step forward, addressing the maid.

"Is that so?"

"Ah, yes," Gavin interrupted. "But I'm afraid you'll have to check on it yourself. Miss… um…"

"Harriet," the maid supplied.

"Yes, this young woman is helping me find a book."

Holly frowned.

"A book?"

Gavin nodded and gave the maid a pleading glance. Though her brow furrowed, she nodded.

"Yes ma'am."

"Very well, excuse me," Holly said, rushing down the hallway, leaving Gavin and the maid behind.

Surprisingly, the young woman turned on him.

"I know you're the new master, my lord, and I'm to be obeying you, but I won't have you lift a finger against Miss Katrina. I know what your London lords are about—"

"You are aware that I could fire you for such audacious behavior. Correct?"

The maid swallowed and nodded, but she still stood her ground.

"I promised my mother I would never be privy to a person's ruining."

"How very noble," he said dryly. "But I'm not in the market to ruin Miss Katrina. I only wish to question her—and so you will see for yourself, since having you around will make it easier. Shall we?"

Gavin turned, entering the library, to see Katrina sitting on a winged back chair, examining dozens of small squares of cloth, each different color. She was holding up a sheer tangerine piece over a cream-colored square when she saw him. Her hands dropped to her knees, and she stood up, curtseying.

"My lord," she said. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," he said, shaking his head as he headed towards the bookshelf, followed by the maid.

Gavin reached the bookcase and scanned the leather books' spines. Mind-numbing books such as The Complete Works of the Native Flora and Fauna of the Americas stared back at him. No, this wouldn't do.

Turning back, he caught Katrina's eye as she watched him.

"Your sister has been avoiding me, and I'm afraid I've upset her somehow," he said, folding his hands behind his back. "Most probably when I informed the Paynes of our marriage."

Katrina's eyes widened slightly as if she were surprised he would broach such a topic.

"Oh, um, yes, she mentioned that."

"I wonder if it's because she wasn't still, possibly, infatuated with Mr. Payne."

A laugh escaped Katrina's lips.

"Oh, no," she said, placing the pieces of fabric on the table as she stood up. "Holly doesn't have feelings for him. I mean, that is to say, she may still hold some soreness about the event."

"Their engagement, you mean?" he asked, and she nodded. "I believe it was broken off because Mr. Payne was in love with someone else?"

"Well, it was a well-known fact that Mr. Payne was fond of Charlotte, and I believed Charlotte felt sorry for Holly. She has a well-off family, you see, and she had no shortage of suitors. But Holly… everyone knew that we were struggling. Charlotte didn't wish for Holly to become destitute. She persuaded Mr. Payne to propose. I believe your uncle helped facilitate it."

"Did he?"

She nodded.

"But after Holly said yes, she could see plain as day how it affected poor Charlotte, not to mention she felt rather embarrassed by the idea of taking Mr. Payne's charity—though it didn't quite feel like charity, if you ask me. Anyway, she didn't want to be the eternal cause of Charlotte's suffering, so she stepped aside to allow them to marry. It was really quite heroic."

"But not at all helpful to her own cause."

"No. But then that's Holly. If she's not sacrificing her happiness for someone, it's because she's doing it for someone else, if that makes sense."

"It does," he said thoughtfully. "How did someone as attractive as your sister stay unattached for so long?"

Katrina perked up.

"You find her attractive?"

Gavin shrugged.

"As attractive as any young lady, I suppose."

Katrina's shoulders dropped slightly. It was clear this wasn't the answer she'd hoped for, but Gavin didn't care to entrust his entire attraction to Holly to her sister. Even if they were married.

"Bad luck I suppose, but don't mention that to her. She hates the term. And really, it wasn't so much luck as circumstance, but when hurdle after hurdle appears, one can't help but get a little superstitious about it. If she didn't have to take care of Jasper and I, she might have made a fortuitous match. The farm being in the state that it is didn't help her cause, either. Bringing it back to the point of profitability would require a great expense, or so I'm told." Katrina peered down at her fingers, intertwined before her. "It's rather unfair that Holly should have to deal with it all, if you ask me."

"What is?"

"Sacrificing all of her own joy for others. Particularly Jasper. He's set to inherit it all and yet he doesn't care one iota about it."

"Unfair indeed," Gavin said. "Tell me more about how my uncle tried to facilitate a match between Holly and Mr. Payne."

"Well, your uncle was terribly fond of Holly and thought it was rather cruel for someone like her to go through life alone. He and Charlotte worked on Mr. Payne together to encourage him to propose. But in the end, Holly refused to see it through. Perhaps that was why he did what he did with your marriage license—making sure the truth wouldn't come out until it was too late for Holly to stop it from happening. Still, it was rather devious of your uncle to marry the two of you by proxy."

"Yes," Gavin said. "Yes, it was."

"Um, my lord, may I ask you something?" Katrina asked, shaking him from his thoughts.

"Of course."

"Holly would be furious to know I asked, but… we are in rather desperate need of dresses. You see, Holly dyed all hers and I have none for the upcoming season. I was hoping, well…"

Gavin waved his hand.

"Say no more. Once we are in London, you and your sister will have several appointments to attend and each of you will have a proper wardrobe made for the coming season."

"Oh, thank you!" Katrina said.

Just then, Holly returned. Glancing between her sister and Gavin, her expression grew suspicious.

"There wasn't any issue with the laundry, my lord," she said. She looked at Katrina. "Why do you look so pleased?"

"Oh, no reason," her sister said, unable to completely hide her own smile.