Unveiled. Part 22

Katie watched as he strode past the living room, where everyone talked and laughed. Her eyes followed his and she saw his aunt and the O'Connors, settled in like a real family. Then his gaze fell on Sean. Katie waited, expecting him to say something else, but he turned, hoisting his clothes over his shoulder.

"I think I'll retire to my room. Good night, Kate."

She watched him go, wanting to stop him, but her feet felt like lead. There was only one thing that she could say to him that might make a difference, but she didn't think she had the nerve.

If she confessed what she felt for him, it might make him return.

Or, just as easily, could drive him away.

"Come in." Christopher put down the book he wasn't reading and glanced up as Katie stepped into his room. His chest felt tight when she moved closer to him and he could see the black silk hair that fell down her back and the soft blue nightgown she wore. She looked so lovely that for a moment his breath stopped and he could hear a pounding in his ears.

"Kate. What are you doing here?"

He didn't dare hope that her presence meant what it implied. My G.o.d, did she have any idea of what she was doing to him? Was this some new kind of torture?

She smiled uneasily and stood before him like a little girl, afraid to ask for a favor. "Christopher, can we talk? I mean, really talk?"

"I don't think that's a good idea." He had to look away from her, so intense were his emotions. "I've had a long and frustrating week. The last thing I feel like doing is engaging in some heavy conversation."

"Christopher, don't do this." Her voice was a plea and she looked at him with glistening eyes. "Don't shut me out like this."

"Kate, what else is there to say?" He put the book aside and stood up to pace the room. It was easier than looking at her. "I can't change the past and neither can you. You lied to me-it's that simple. I can forgive the Fan Pemberton masquerade, because I understand that. I can't forgive..." He couldn't finish the sentence.

Kate stared at him, her chest rising and falling with suppressed emotion. "How dare you!" she whispered softly, the vehemence in her voice astounding him. Before he could react, she hit him squarely in the chest with a not particularly ladylike hand. Stunned, he grabbed for her before she could take another shot.

"Kate, have you lost your mind?"

"How dare you!" Her eyes flashed, an even deeper blue than before. He held her wrists, but she no longer struggled, instead she glared at him, all h.e.l.l in her expression. "All this time I was feeling bad, thinking that I had hurt you. Now I see it's nothing more than your d.a.m.nable pride! You can't let me close to you again-it might mean admitting that I mean something to you, and that I haven't been punished enough! d.a.m.n you!"

"Kate, you listen-"

"No, this time you listen." She stood still, magnificent in her outrage. "That little boy downstairs is innocent of this. He hasn't done anything wrong, nor have I done anything that you haven't My G.o.d, how can you be so condescending? You lied to me about your financial condition, and I don't believe for a moment I was the only woman in your life! How can you, of all people, sit in judgment of me?"

Fury gripped him. His hands tightened on her wrists, but she continued to glare at him.

"You are all such hypocrites! Do you think I don't know that Charles Pepper has an illegitimate child, one that he doesn't acknowledge? The boy stays with a woman in Baltimore, who cares for him and sends him to school? Is that what I should have done?"

"d.a.m.n you, Kate! I don't make up the rules, I just live with them!"

"And condemn me by them!" Katie wrenched herself free from his grip and stepped back, looking furious. "Well, I'm not playing by your silly rules anymore. What there is between us means something. But if you're too stubborn to acknowledge that then there is nothing I can say or do. Be happy, Christopher. I certainly intend to."

With a swirl of her gown she turned from him and strode from the room. Smarting, Christopher wanted to go after her, to put her in her place, but something stopped him. He couldn't face her tonight, after everything she had said.

Especially when a small part of him feared that she was right.

TWENTY-FOUR.

"Come down, Mr. Tip. Please come down."

Christopher awoke to a plaintive cry outside his window. Struggling into his robe, he tied the belt and glanced outside.

Winter was fast approaching. There were very few leaves remaining on the huge oak tree, and those that did rattled like paper in the cold wind. It was therefore easy to see the tabby cat, perched miserably on a branch, and the blond hair of the small boy beneath.

Sliding open the window, Christopher called to the boy. "Don't scare him. Keep talking to him while I climb down."

The boy glanced up, tears streaking his face, and he nodded quickly as Christopher stepped through the window and onto the rooftop.

His feet were freezing, but if he remembered correctly, it was easier to climb the oak without shoes than with them. The only time he'd ever fallen when he'd done this as a boy was when he'd been dressed for a dinner party and his good shoes slipped. Tucking the robes more securely about his waist, Christopher grabbed the closest branch and eased himself down.

Somehow this had been easier when he was six. Looking at the ground, he winced, wondering at his own childhood bravery. It was at least a fifteen-foot drop, maybe more. The wind whipped through the naked branches, chilling him thoroughly, but he managed to find a secure grip and swung down to the next branch.

"Mr. Tip, you stay there. Be a good kitty," Sean called up to the kitten, his eyes wide as Christopher struggled from one branch to the next. "Don't fall, kitty. You'll be fine."

The kitten mewed loudly and pathetically while Christopher hugged the tree trunk. His foot, numb from the cold, slipped once, but he managed to grab a branch and pull himself to safety. Within a few minutes he was eye level with the cat and secure on his branch.

"Here you are." With one free hand, he lifted the kitten, ignoring the claws that swung frantically, then tucked the cat inside his robe. The little animal mewed, frightened by the motion, but Christopher petted him rea.s.suringly, then, inch by inch, climbed down to the ground.

"You did it!" Sean stared at him as if he were a hero. Grinning, Christopher pulled the kitten from his pocket and handed the trembling animal to the boy.

"Here. And tell him to stay out of this tree. It's too high for these rescues."

The boy smiled gratefully, patting the cat and pressing his small face into the animal's fur. Christopher watched him, remembering himself at that age, when a kitten was the most important thing in the world. Turning, he started to walk back to the house, well aware of the chill temperature, when Sean's voice stopped him.

"Are you my father?"

He should have known this was coming, but it still caught him by surprise. Hugging himself against the wind, he turned to the small boy, who stared back at him. He looked so little, the kitten held against his small body as if for protection. He remembered Katie's words. He alone is innocent of all this- "Why don't you come to my room for breakfast? We can eat together."

Sean's face lit up with a grin. "Do you mean it?" he asked, with the exuberance of youth.

Christopher nodded. "I always get too much food as it is. And we've got cakes this morning, for the party tonight."

Sean raced ahead of him toward the huge house. Christopher entered the backdoor and, ignoring the shocked glances of the new servants, ordered breakfast.

"And please have someone bring it to my room," he said. "I have a guest."

The servants nodded, keeping their opinion to themselves as the man of the manor retreated to his room, still clad only in a robe, and shoeless.

Sean was there before he entered. The little boy walked slowly around the bedroom, still holding the kitten, exploring everything with his eyes. Much of the original furnis.h.i.+ngs had been sold, but there was still the ebony bureau, the huge mirror, the tray holding tobacco and brandy, the jars of scented limewater, and the shaving mug. It was a masculine room and, to the little boy, obviously fascinating.

"Don't touch that," Christopher warned as Sean picked up a straight blade. He immediately put it back as Christopher laughed. "You could get cut. The blade is sharp."

"Paddy has one." Sean nodded. "He does this with his face." The boy imitated shaving, then slapped his cheeks.

Christopher nodded. "Pretty soon you'll be old enough to use one of those." He let the boy examine his things, answering his questions, until the servant brought the tray. Instantly, upon the arrival of food, all else was forgotten and Sean put down the cat and climbed onto the horsehair seat, gazing expectantly at the covered dishes.

"There. Eggs, bacon, toast, cakes, fruit..." Christopher opened each dish, grinning as Sean licked his lips and piled the food onto a plate. He waited until the boy had enough before taking his own.

They ate in companionable silence. Christopher grinned as Sean helped himself freely to more of everything, then washed it all down with a huge gla.s.s of milk. It was amazing that so much food could fit into such a small body, but it did. Yet his manners were perfect. Christopher was forced to reevaluate his thoughts regarding this boy, an Irish illegitimate child. When the boy finally seemed full, Christopher spoke slowly.

"Sean, why would you think I'm your father?"

"You're married to my mama," Sean said matter-of-factly. "I heard them talking when we got here. I thought that meant you're my da."

Christopher felt a tightening in his chest and he took the small boy's hand and spoke seriously. "No, I'm not your father. Whoever he is, he is a very lucky man, because I think you're a great boy."

"Do you know who he is?" Sean asked thoughtfully.

"No." Christopher shook his head. "You'd have to ask your mother about that."

"She doesn't like to talk about it," Sean stated flatly. "She talks about other things when I ask her." He stared at Christopher, then shrugged. "Will you be leaving us soon, too?"

Christopher's mouth dropped, but to himself he had to admit it was a logical question. Sean obviously felt that since his father had walked out, he was liable to do the same. What made the situation worse was his relations.h.i.+p with Kate at the moment. He honestly didn't know what would happen, and didn't want to lie to the boy. Taking a deep breath, he tried to explain.

"Sean, your mother and I...have some problems. We're trying to work them out, but we don't know if we can. There is nothing for you to worry about, though. Whatever happens, we'll both see that you're always taken care of."

Sean looked at him with eyes that were far too intelligent and street smart for a boy his age. Nodding, he picked up the cat and slipped from the chair.

"I'm going downstairs now. Moira's baking some pies for the party. She said I could help."

Christopher watched the boy go. Sean had understood exactly what he'd meant. And what he hadn't said.

She just had to get through this night.

Katie stood before the mirror, surveying the midnight-blue gown she wore and the glittering sapphire that hung from her throat. The jewel was borrowed from Ella Pemberton, and it seemed to bring Katie courage as she turned, seeing the brilliant fire from the gem.

She had to admit, she didn't look anything like the poor Irish woman she was, or even the lady's companion or maid that she'd been the last few months. Something had changed. By a.s.suming Fan Pemberton's ident.i.ty, she had grown into the part.

Inside, however, she was still Kate O'Connor, and she was terrified. Once more she had to reach down to that secret place where she kept her strength and draw from it again. G.o.d, it was getting harder and harder. Katie was afraid that one of these times the well would be dry.

She was also still furious with Christopher. She hadn't seen him since their conversation last night, but she hadn't forgotten their bitter words. If this was what he wanted, she would give it to him. It was almost like the reminder Paddy used to whisper: Be careful what you pray for, Katie, you may get it.

"You look grand, dear," Moira whispered approvingly, pausing to smooth one curl into place and to brush imaginary lint from her shoulder. "Like a d.u.c.h.ess. That man of yours won't be able to take his eyes from you."

Katie turned and hugged the older woman. She had been forced to explain everything to Moira, even though she hadn't wanted to. But with the party imminent, she didn't have much of a choice. To her surprise Moira had been wonderfully sympathetic and supportive. "Oh, Moira, thank you. Thank you for everything. You've always been there for me, better than any mother."

"Nonsense," Moira said, but Katie could tell she was pleased. "As for that husband of yours, well, this is a d.a.m.ned sorry state of affairs if you ask me. What kind of man looks to introduce his wife to other men and expects her to provide him with amus.e.m.e.nt? Although, I was in a play once..." Moira frowned musingly.

"What happened?" Katie almost shook the answer from her.

"There was a man and a woman in it. Lovers, I believe. Anyway," Moira said quickly, blus.h.i.+ng at her own description, "they came to a parting of the ways. Both of them agreed to see other people, but when each of them saw the other with a new mate..."

"Yes?"

"They killed each other." Moira sighed heavily. "It was out of jealousy, you know."

Katie's arms dropped and she stared heavenward. The last thing she needed was that kind of a prophesy. "I think I'll go downstairs. Have most of the guests arrived?"

"Yes." Moira nodded, her brow furrowed. "Run along, dear." When Katie left the room, Moira muttered to herself, "Was it a murder? Or was that the one where they confess their love and live happily ever after?"

For the life of her, she couldn't remember.

Downstairs, the Scott house was ablaze with light and merriment. As Katie descended the steps, her heart in her throat, she paused in amazement at the transformation of the house. The new furnis.h.i.+ngs looked splendid in the parlor, setting off Moira's drapes admirably and looking elegant in the crisp gaslight. The chandeliers glittered, the fireplace crackled. Servants dressed in good wool suits circled the room, pausing with fluted gla.s.ses of sparkling wine, while maids brought tempting trays of mushrooms and oysters to the guests.

And the company! Even from the steps Katie could see that everyone had come. Bertrice and Charles waved from across the room, the Misses Chandler sat like crows on the new horsehair couch, the Mitch.e.l.l girls giggled with several handsome young men, while Aunt Eunice and Florence Eldridge talked quietly. The Pembertons took up one wall, looking anything but happy to be present, while the Scotts dutifully ignored them. Isabelle and Gertrude stood near the serving table, and Katie saw the young woman's aunt cringe every time her niece s.n.a.t.c.hed a morsel from the maid.

One of the young ladies softly played the pianoforte, and Katie saw Patrick, dressed elegantly in a suit, greeting some of the guests. He smiled at Katie rea.s.suringly and gave her a gesture that meant an Irish blessing.

It was all absolutely perfect. Everything looked wonderful, the guests were elegant and having a good time, the food looked marvelous. The only blight on it all was the real reason for the party. As if in answer to her thoughts, she froze, seeing Christopher for the first time.

He looked so handsome she thought she would melt. Dressed in a dark blue suit that coincidentally complemented her gown, he stood beside the fireplace, talking with an older, fidgety man that Katie didn't know. As if feeling her gaze on him, Christopher glanced up and their eyes met. She could have sworn she saw an uneasiness in them, much the way she was feeling. His gaze swept over the gown she wore, and she could see the tension increase in his face. Her heart pounding, Katie managed to keep smiling and sweep into the room, aware only of him.

"Kate! You look lovely. That gown is beautiful with your eyes," Emily said sincerely, and Katie took the young woman's hands in grat.i.tude.

"Thank you, but your gown is far lovelier. You look enchanting, as always."

Emily grinned, pleased. It was getting easier and easier to fit into this group, Katie realized, but after tonight, she might no longer need her skills. Should Christopher decide to court someone else, she and her family might find themselves in the street.

"Wine?" A servant paused at her arm and Katie nodded, accepting a gla.s.s as she greeted the guests. She felt Christopher's eyes on her as she made everyone comfortable, introducing Gertrude and Isabelle and pausing to laugh at the outrageous compliments she received. She wouldn't show him how much his presence upset her; no, not after last night. Even if it killed her, she would play this role out.

"May I have everyone's attention?"

Katie turned in surprise as Ella entered the room, holding Sean's hand. The little boy looked wonderful in a dark suit his golden hair s.h.i.+ning. He glanced inquisitively at the guests.

"I would like to formally introduce my grandnephew. Sean, this is Nellie Mitch.e.l.l, Mary, and the Misses Chandler. Say how do you do."

The conversation ceased as the guests murmured to themselves with shocked expressions. Stunned, Katie watched as Sean, obviously tutored by Ella, extended a hand, then shook Nellie Mitch.e.l.l's.

"How do you do, miss?" Sean asked politely.

Nellie stammered, glancing helplessly at her mother. Confronted with what might well be the illegitimate child of Fan Pemberton, she didn't know how to comport herself or whether to acknowledge the boy at all. The room seemed to wait in a collective silence while Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l looked shocked and began to fan herself indignantly.

Katie's cheeks flushed crimson. My G.o.d, what was Ella thinking? How could she have chosen tonight, of all nights, to introduce Sean to society? Yet she trusted Ella, and knew the older woman would never hurt her. What then was she doing?

Before Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l could comment, Eunice stepped forward and draped an arm around Nellie, speaking to the boy with a laugh. "She thinks you're so handsome, Sean, she doesn't know what to say."

The girls giggled nervously, then Ella turned graciously to the Misses Chandler, whose mouths looked like perfect O's.

"Did I forget to mention Fan's son? The boy has been ill for quite some time. After his father died in that mine explosion, he did quite badly. I always thought the two events were connected. Even the physicians seemed to think so. But thank G.o.d, he has recovered, and has come home to stay."

Katie drank down her wine in a gulp as the ladies pressed forward. She saw more than one uncertain expression, and she didn't dare to look at Christopher. She held her breath as Alice Chandler smiled, pushed Nellie aside, then took Sean's hand.