Page 51 of Intolerable
“A disgusting toad called Hickinbottom. He isn’t marrying Kathleen because he is already betrothed to Miss Hannah Dalton.”
“Miss Dalton wishes to go through with the wedding?”
“Her parents are insisting on it.” Mother rolled her eyes. “I believe Hickinbottom was trying to increase his fortunes. Kat’s dowry is twice Miss Dalton’s.”
“He sounds loathsome. Why on earth was Kat kissing this man?”
“You know your sister. She says it was an experiment.” His mother wore an exasperated expression. “I have since explained that her experiment will likely result in her spinsterhood.”
Ruark couldn’t imagine Kat would care. She loved scientific literature and collecting information, no matter how mundane. It made perfect sense to him that she would conduct kissing experiments. He was interested in knowing why and how many subjects she’d tested. This could have been so much worse.
He adopted his most benign tone and expression. “Has it occurred to you that it may be in everyone’s best interest if you allow Kat to become the spinster she probably longs to be?” She’d never shown the slightest inclination toward getting married, learning how to run a household, meeting potential suitors, or anything to do with the male species. Malehumanspecies, that was. She’d collected plenty of data about male cows, horses, turtles, cats, dogs, and any otherspeciesshe could find. But he supposed that had now changed since she was conducting experiments on human males. He would have chuckled if his mother wasn’t present.
Many found Kat tedious, but Ruark was incredibly fond of her. In fact, he pondered how she’d induced this Hickinbottom fool to kiss her. Rather easily, he would guess. What gentleman of Hickinbottom’s apparent nature would refuse? She always planned her data collection and would have snared him with little effort. Ruark had never known her to come away empty-handed. It probably hadn’t hurt that she was remarkably pretty and, as Mother had mentioned, in possession of a nice dowry.
“I can’t imagine she’d be happy as a spinster,” his mother said, folding her arms across her chest. “And definitely not as a ruined spinster. She won’t be invited anywhere.”
“Does she even care about that?” Ruark asked gently. When his mother pursed her lips in response, he added, “While, you can’t imagine it, you must remember this is Kat’s life, not yours.” His mother had married at seventeen and again at twenty-four, not quite a year after the death of her first husband. Marriage, it seemed, was important to her.
“What will she do if she’s not married? How will she spend her life without children? Who will care for her?”
“She is fortunate to be the sister of an earl. I will care for her if she requires it. And her dowry should go to her if she doesn’t wed.”
“It does. When she’s twenty-five.”
“Then she’s well-positioned to make the choices that are best for her. I’ll speak with her.”
His mother uncrossed her arms as her brows pitched together. “Ruark! You can’t encourage her to be a spinster! It’s bad enough that you aren’t wed. Please tell me you’re at least courting someone.”
“I could, but I’d be lying.” He couldn’t help smirking because he could never seem to avoid teasing his mother whenever possible. She was always sodramatic.
“I do not understand your hesitation for marriage. I ask that you do not share it with your sister!Please.” The plea in her gaze was sharp and rather desperate.
Ruark laughed, hoping to bring some humor to her perspective. “It isn’t an illness I’m going to infect her with.”
“Now you’re just being silly. What I wouldlikeyou to do is arrange for her to be invited wherever you can. She must find a husband quickly.”
It wasn’t that easy. Ruark instantly thought of Lucien and whether he could help. He also thought of the Phoenix Club, which was the one place he could take her. “My club has assemblies every Friday, and it’s become somewhat of a magnet for the Marriage Mart. You and Kat can come with me.”
“Wonderful.”
Ruark would speak with Kat before then. If she didn’t want to wed, he wouldn’t let their mother force her into it. He would also advise her against further kissing experiments, especially here in London where her ruin would be swift and vicious. Again, he felt the sting of hypocrisy.
“In the meantime,” his mother continued. “I am going to change my costume so we can go to Hyde Park for the fashionable hour.”
“Mother, it’s nearly five now. Don’t you need to rest after your journey?”
“Ineedto get your sister onto the Marriage Mart.” She started toward the door, pausing to look back at him over her shoulder. “Will you accompany us or not?”
He wiped his hand across his forehead, lightly massaging away the start of a headache. “I will.”
She turned fully toward him. “You should put yourself on the Marriage Mart too.”
“I’m not ready to wed.”
Exhaling, she didn’t bother hiding her disappointment. “Don’t take too long. Think of your father—you never know how much time you have.” Then she left the drawing room, leaving Ruark to wonder if he’d made a mistake. Or a series of them.
He thought of Freya, dark-haired and pale-eyed, with exquisite features that begged to be drawn or painted or sculpted—or all those things. Nine years had passed since he’d fancied himself in love with her. Had he actually been in love?
