Page 3 of The Lady
“In fairness, I only said that because you swore to it, all the time.” Caton said.
“Mistakes do happen. Errors in judgement so to speak. And I did not know Margot then, or I would never have made such a pronouncement.”
“Is this your way of telling me that I should not have attended your wedding? That you suddenly wish to grease your way amongst theton?”
“Hell, no.” Langley said. “I am delighted to have you present. You know this. As one of my family you should be here.”
“Mother will never forgive you for inviting me.”
Flora shifted on her feet, knowing she should move away but also conscious that this might be one of the last times she could hear Caton. When, after all, might she get another chance?
Their voices dropped, and Flora thought she caught one of them curse, although she could not swear to who. Then she was certain Caton laughed and said quite clearly, closer to the door than Flora would like, “You wish to go to the Highlands for your honeymoon?”
“That is what my wife wishes. As a respectable married man of thebeau monde,I am entirely at my wife’s disposal.”
“You’ve certainly married into a wide and expansive family.”
“Indeed, the young Lady Flora seemed transfixed by you.”
Hot, vivid embarrassment pulsed through Flora as she heard her reaction described by Langley, with such knowing amusement in the earl’s tone that she cringed. Her interest in the doctor—she thought she’d managed to hide it carefully throughout the day. But instead, she had signposted it so clearly, even the man’s brother on his own wedding day, had noticed her desires. She should run and hide, and yet she clung to the faint hope that Doctor Caton might come to her rescue.
“She is just a child.”
“Girls of her age are married, at least amongst theton.”
“In that case, I will leave the chit to one of the numerous gentlemen who do not mind having a foolish wife.” Doctor Caton said, his dismissive statement fairly breaking Flora’s heart.
Forcing herself to take a series of steps away from the study, one footfall after another as she replayed what the doctor had said about her—dismissing her, belittling her, and how he could never possibly care for someone like her. When she pushed her way back into the grand parlour, amongst the swirling happy wedding guests, her resentment curdled away, and Flora was entirely sworn to vengeance.
Flora snatched up a glass of nearby champagne and raised a toast to her new promise:Doctor Caton, you will rue the day you said that about me.
CHAPTER 2
Mayfair, July 1823
Ten years later…
Doctor Philip Catonwalked briskly along the streets of Mayfair. It was the final few weeks of the Season, and soon, his easy treatment of the more luxurious and pampered ladies of thebeau mondewould cease as the lords and their wives headed off to their various country estates. It was a straightforward way of making money—working with theton. They seemed, especially the wives and ladies who liked the fact he was the bastard of a countess. It added a touch of fascination and thrill to the treatments he offered. Besides, they paid enough so he could accept non-paying, poorer clients.
Today, however, was different. Philip moved with an easy nonchalance, enjoying the warmth of summer before it started getting too hot. Several townhouses were being or had been packed up, but he had nowhere urgent to be.
In this balmy afternoon light, he might make his way back through Green Park, enjoying the sights. Alternatively, he might stop at Fortnum’s for a pleasing cup of tea and slice of richwalnut cake. It would be pleasant to finally have London back to being his, without the rigmarole and fanfare of thebeau mondeand their blasted Season.
Somewhat unaware of his motives or surroundings, Philip turned down Bolton Street where his older brother’s home was located. The beautiful mansion had changed in the last ten years. Transforming from a debonair bachelor’s paradise to a sprawling family home, filled with noise, a set of twin boys, and so much laughter it fairly escaped through the walls. The family had departed a week ago, heading back to his brother’s country estate for Margot’s upcoming birth.
Pausing to look up the façade, Philip experienced a tug of envy for his brother’s married life with Margot, and their happy young children. Across town on Marchmont Street, no such bustling, friendly homestead awaited his return. Just the company of his elderly housekeeper, Mrs. Wotton, and her niece, Miss Harris, who was working as a maid. It made for a comfortable place, but not one he could feel especially sentimental about. At thirty-six, he had always hoped he would have a homestead, but life had not worked out that way.
Such a lowering thought meant he would need to cheer himself up with a trip to Fortnum’s. Once there, he would ask for the largest slice of walnut cake available.
Philip’s footsteps stopped as he looked at the passenger alighting from the paused carriage close by. An elegantly dressed woman descended from the barouche, her lady’s dress and frock coat were of a soft romantic lilac colour. Her blonde hair gleaming richly in the sun beneath a neat little plumed hat, her expression was all serenity as she smiled in thanks at the footman, whilst the man helped her down.
Lady Flora Fitzsimmons.
Recognition crashed through Philip. His sister-in-law’s cousin… Yes, that was right. That was how he was connected tosuch a grand lady. He had met her years ago, not that she would remember that, and she had been a tall, skinny, blonde chit who, he fancied, had a passing infatuation with him. Of course, they had been in company again for various christenings, and the occasional busy Christmas party, but Lady Flora had pointedly ignored him, and Philip thought it best to keep his distance. If there had been any short-lived fancy on her part, it must have passed very quickly when she’d seen how much better she might do for herself amongst the gentlemen of Society.
She was now transformed into the most eligible woman in theton,who might well be on the way to becoming a patroness of Almack’s. She was that well-connected and sought after. As the sister of a duke, not to mention being a striking blonde beauty possessed of famed sparkling grey eyes and a quick wit, Lady Flora was a catch.
She was a bright star amongst thebeau monde.With at least four proposals under her cap that even he had heard of, she had enough swains to deal with. There had been some talk of a match between Lord Gilbert and her, but it had come to nought. No, it seemed her ladyship was in no rush to wed unless she deemed it necessary, and clearly, none of the gentlemen or nobles had pleased her. Yet.
