O, Sweet Desire

O, SWEET DESIRE

by

Abigail Yorkshire

O, Sweet Desire

By Abigail Yorkshire

Smashwords Edition

ISBN: 9781301943548

Copyright 2013 Abigail Yorkshire

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CHAPTER 1

Kate Overton leaped from the little cart before the driver could pull the horse to a complete stop. She raced up the front steps of their home, already anticipating her father’s pleasure for what she’d been able to accomplish.

Somehow, Kate had negotiated a good price for the Overton family’s sheep and grain. The money she’d been able to make today would see them through the winter. It wouldn’t be a comfortable existence, but Kate was certain that they would manage somehow.

Of course, her sister Dorothea would be unable to purchase the three new gowns she’d ordered only last week and Helen’s tour of the Continent was now quite out of the question. Kate could well imagine Helen’s objections when she was informed of the cancellation of her plans. Still, it couldn’t be helped.

Kate’s mother would be no help at all, of course. Lady Penelope Overton moved in only the best social circles. Dressed in her finest, she glided through her days in a host of expensive, frilly gowns which had long ago strained their finances to the breaking point. Still, her father loved Penelope to distraction. For her sake, if for no one else’s, Lord Edgar Overton attempted to keep up the appearance of their former wealth.

Kate pasted a smile upon her pale features as she ascended the last two steps to the front door. The butler opened the portal for her and clicked his heels together as he leaned over her proffered bonnet and cloak.

Thank you, Jacobs, Kate murmured.

My lady, Jacobs acknowledged with a slight bow of his gray head.

Is my father in his study? Kate asked, smoothing her dress with her hands.

Yes, my lady, the butler agreed. As is the rest of the family.

Kate frowned. Oh? How strange.

Indeed, it was a little odd. The only time the family congregated in one place at the same time was for a dinner party. It must be something quite important to bring all of them together in the middle of the afternoon.

Kate eyed the aging butler expectantly, but the man was as silent as the grave. With a weary sigh, she removed her gloves and handed them to Jacobs. The butler disappeared around the corner without another word and Kate was left standing in the foyer alone.

For a moment, she allowed her eyes to roam over the once opulent entry of the Overton estate. The gilt on the wallpaper was fading badly and showed wear along the bottom near the baseboard. There were numerous small cracks on the steps, as well, and one of the treads seemed to groan in protest whenever they trod upon it. Most of the staircase had been hastily mended to maintain the outward appearance of quality, however, Kate had to admit that the entire structure needed a facelift.

Even the marble floor beneath her feet showed definite signs of age and neglect. There were several stains which no amount of scrubbing and buffing could remove and Kate’s mother had tried her best to situate two of the side chairs and a huge potted plant over the largest of the chipped tiles.

Indeed, it seemed that the foyer was a statement of their current state of affairs. Their once beautiful and wealthy family had slowly degenerated, losing its luster to the gray winds of fate.

Biting her lower lip for courage, Kate resolutely strode toward the rear of the house. Halfway to her destination, she heard the sounds of weeping and quickened her pace. Kate knocked once on the door to the study, but after receiving no reply, simply opened the portal.

What Kate saw inside the darkened room shocked her. Dorothea sat on the settee, her face buried beneath her crossed arms as she wept. Penelope Overton and Helen clung to each other by the windows, weeping in anguish. Helen’s eyes were red and puffy and Penelope’s tears had carved tracks through her white face powder.

What is it? Kate inquired, her eyes flicking from one family member to the other. What has happened?

Kate’s innocent question brought on another fit of weeping. Clearly, she’d get nothing out of the three hysterical women.

Anxiously, Kate scanned the room for her father, Edgar Overton. As usual, she found him sitting behind his massive mahogany desk, but the man seated there bore little resemblance to her parent. Normally the bastion of the family, Edgar slumped in his chair, his broad shoulders drooping with sadness. Edgar’s face was gaunt and his cheeks haggard and drawn. Listlessly, her father’s blue eyes stared at a fixed point halfway across the room.

Father? Kate tried again. What’s wrong? Has someone died?

We have! Dorothea wailed. Oh, dear, I shall be a laughingstock!

Kate stared at her sister in puzzlement. The girl hardly looked afflicted. Dorothea’s pale blue gown was the height of fashion. Her pert blonde ringlets framed her beautiful face and offset the startling blue of her eyes. Even in tears, she was quite lovely.

Helen, too, was a stunning beauty in her own right. Her sweet, heart shaped face framed her lovely green eyes and her dark brown hair was a perfect foil for her flawless complexion. Helen was very tall for a woman, as was her sister, and the new high waisted gowns showcased their willowy figures to perfection.

Helen stood of a height with their mother, whose pale blonde hair and porcelain complexion had once made her the toast of the ton. Penelope never tired of relating the details of her last season, in which a string of conquests and offers of marriage finally culminated in her acceptance of their father’s suit.

Still, Kate couldn’t help but be a little dismayed by her sisters’ attire. Dorothea’s gown was made of pure pink silk, accented with tiny rosettes of gold thread. Her bodice was cut rather low, clearly defining what little bosom she did possess and a string of expensive diamonds glinted merrily at her throat.

Penelope, too, was dressed in an elegant gown of dark purple toile that clung to her slender arms with almost indecent aplomb. Although nearly forty years old, Penelope Overton had somehow maintained her girlish figure through six difficult pregnancies and the birth of three healthy daughters.

Penelope’s features were flawless – at least it seemed so to the casual observer. However, Kate had once entered her mother’s bedroom while she was in the midst of her toilet and learned the truth. Penelope Overton wore more paint than a Drury Lane actress. Without her makeup, tiny age lines were clearly visible around her eyes, mouth, and lower still on her neck, where no amount of creams and potions could lift the sagging skin.

Standing in the doorway, Kate watched a single tear slowly slide down her mother’s powdered cheek, but no words of comfort came from Penelope’s lips. Helplessly, Kate turned back to her father for the answers to her questions.

Father, please, Kate pleaded. What has happened?

We’re ruined, Edgar mumbled. Completely ruined.

Kate stared at her father in shock.

But – I don’t understand. How? she asked.

Edgar Overton sighed with resignation, heavily lifting his eyes to his daughter.

"Do you remember my telling you about my new investment, the Britannica?" he asked.

Yes.

She went down off the coast of Madagascar six weeks ago. I just received word today, Edgar explained. All hands were lost.

The Overtons had been counting on the profits from the voyage to help fund Dorothea’s and Helen’s coming out balls. Mentally, Kate added up the number of fans, elegant shoes and expensive gowns which had been purchased by her sisters in that amount of time. The figure was sizeable.

Blinking to maintain some measure of composure, Kate attempted to reason her way out of their predicament.

Surely, the ship was insured? Kate hopefully inquired.

Slowly, Edgar nodded. The ship was, yes, but not the cargo. Everything we purchased is now resting at the bottom of the Atlantic.

Penelope, Helen and Dorothea wailed in earnest and Kate slowly sank into the straight backed chair on the opposite side of her father’s desk.

What shall we do? How – How much was lost? Kate managed to ask.

Edgar Overton named a staggering figure. If Kate hadn’t already been seated, she might have fainted on the spot. Only the sale of the estate itself would cover such a huge sum.

No doubt news of the disaster would travel quickly. It was only a matter of time before creditors began knocking at their front door, demanding payment for services rendered.

How long do we have? Kate whispered.

Dully, Edgar glanced up at her.

Father, how long until we’re found out? Kate repeated.

With an effort, Edgar Overton cleared his throat. "Luckily, the Britannica wasn’t well known, nor was her cargo especially remarkable. I’d say we have a week. Maybe two."

Helen erupted into tears again and Penelope ineffectually patted her daughter’s back in a mild attempt to comfort her. Mustering her courage, Penelope finally drew herself up to her full height and sniffed back her remaining tears.

Well, we – we shall just have to find some way out of this, that’s all, Penelope bravely declared.

Edgar chuckled wryly, his laughter bordering on madness. Clearly, his wife had no conception of the size of their current predicament.

What do you suggest, Mother? Kate inquired.

Penelope opened her mouth to make a suggestion, then quickly reconsidered. Suddenly, her eyes sparkled as a marvelous idea jelled in her mind.

You must marry, of course! Penelope declared with excitement.

Dorothea gasped in shock and Helen coughed. Kate stared at her mother as though she’d quite taken leave of her senses.

Yes! Penelope affirmed, as the idea gained strength. One or two of you must marry, and quickly, too, before word of our financial difficulties becomes known.

Do I understand you correctly, my dear? Edgar prompted. Your solution to this nightmare in which we find ourselves is to sell our daughters off to the highest bidders?

Penelope clucked her tongue in annoyance.

They must marry sometime, Edgar, Penelope reasoned.

Well, yes, but – but these things take time.

With a special license, it could all be done within a matter of days, Penelope announced. Then you simply ask our new son-in-law for a modest loan to tide us over until things improve.

Edgar coughed from his chair. The idea was ludicrous. Not only did Edgar refuse to entertain asking a younger man for money, but the thought of securing suitable husbands for one or more of his daughters within a few days was utterly preposterous. Unaware of the train of her husband’s thoughts, Penelope turned to her older daughters with purpose.

Now, my dears, we shall need to move with some haste. We’ll see whether the dresses we ordered for you might be ready by Monday. Then there’s the Favershams’ ball, too, Penelope directed. That might be just the thing you need.

I thought you said that we couldn’t go, Dorothea recalled.

Penelope smiled. Of course you may go. At all costs, we must keep up appearances. Besides, some of the wealthiest men in the district will be there.

Warming to their mother’s enthusiasm, Dorothea’s and Helen’s faces glowed with new hope. Kate could see that her sisters were already dreaming of ensnaring their future husbands.

You must do everything you can to meet someone of suitable wealth and obtain an offer as swiftly as possible, Penelope reasoned.

He must be handsome, too, Dorothea suggested.

Of course, Helen agreed.

Pish tosh! You will marry him for his money, not for his face, Penelope countered.

Dorothea looked stricken. But mother, you always said -

He must be a man of substance. An older man, one perhaps your father’s age might be appropriate, Penelope went on. Maybe older.

Older? Helen gasped in horror.

Certainly, my dear, Penelope confirmed. The older the man is, the fewer years you’ll have to endure before his money and property belongs to our family.

Kate shook her head in disbelief. You can’t be serious, Mother. It’s so cold blooded. The poor man will wake up the morning after the wedding and -

He will be grateful he’s wed one of my two beautiful girls, and that will be an end to it, Penelope gushed.

Penelope began fussing over Helen and Dorothea, straightening their curls and pinching their cheeks to bring on a pleasant blush of youth. Their happy chatter quickly turned toward their new gowns and all of the necessary accoutrements for finding both of them suitable husbands.

As usual, Kate was left out of the attentions her mother bestowed upon the older Overton girls. Kate’s arrival had been unexpected and unwelcome. After several disappointing miscarriages, Penelope Overton had apparently been delivered of another child, but it was not the long awaited son her parents had longed for. Following the delivery, the physician had declared Penelope to be in too ill health for the Overtons to try again.

Kate was much younger than her two sisters, too. The four or five years separating them often seemed an enormous distance and Kate was frequently excluded from their more mature amusements.

For some strange reason, Kate didn’t resemble her sisters, either. She’d never understood why. Kate had reddish brown hair and green eyes that changed to a lighter hue in the sunlight or when she was happy. Her sisters were tall and slender. Kate was much shorter and had a petite body. She could not compete with their willowy figures and the new fashions only looked ridiculous on her.

Nevertheless, at her father’s knee, Kate had found the love she craved. Edgar Overton doted upon his youngest daughter. Sensing her keen mind and ready wit, Edgar coached Kate in her studies. When Kate showed an interest in learning more, Edgar hired a tutor to teach her mathematics and several languages. Edgar even taught Kate how to manage the estate, treating her like the cherished male heir he had always desired.

Kate had little use for feminine frippery. She was more delighted with a book than with a set of new ribbons. Her gowns were mostly modest and plain, usually made from subdued tones of serviceable material. Quite frequently, Kate’s only function while attending parties was to chaperone her two older sisters, thus leaving her mother free to socialize as she wished.

Indeed, Kate was as invisible as a gray little mouse at dusk. Unnoticed and virtually unwanted, Kate languished at the endless rounds of parties and balls. She was miserable in the role she’d been forced to play, but she never let on. Throughout it all, Kate bore happiness and adversity with equal aplomb.

Nevertheless, this willful enslavement of her two sisters to save their fortunes upset Kate. Although her sisters seemed to be delighted with the new gowns, gloves and slippers that went with their serious pursuit, Kate balked at the idea of securing a suitable mate merely for the size of his fortune.

Kate rose and went down on her knees beside her father’s chair, hoping that she could appeal to his good sense and decency. Slowly, Edgar raised his eyes.

Father, please, Kate pleaded. I cannot believe that you support this. Just listen to them!

Ah, Katie. What would you have us do, eat bread and water or worse, go to debtor’s prison?’ Edgar sighed. I don’t especially fancy sharing a cell with a dozen rats or a tinker arrested for cheating the public."

No, but there has to be another way, Kate reasoned. There must be.

If there is, I’d be happy to hear it, Edgar readily agreed, folding his hands across his stomach. However, until that time, let’s see what your sisters make of themselves. They may yet surprise us.

CHAPTER 2

The Faversham’s ball was the gala event of the season. Every noble and wealthy family for miles around attended the party. The house was brilliantly lit with the warm glow of hundreds of candles and the cacophony of voices at the entrance was nearly deafening.

Edgar and Penelope flanked their older daughters as the family entered the ornate house. Kate followed along behind them almost like a servant, nearly losing sight of them in the crush of people at the head of the receiving line.

Lord Faversham! Lady Faversham! What a delight! Penelope gushed, her face flushing with excitement.

Lady Overton, Lady Faversham calmly acknowledged.

May I present my daughters, Dorothea and Helen?

The two girls curtsied awkwardly to the older woman, but Lady Faversham seemed not to notice their lack of polish.

Doing a bit of hunting tomorrow, Edgar, Lord Faversham noted, soundly clapping Edgar on the back. I trust you’ll be able to come?

Kate’s father positively glowed at the invitation.

Of course, Herbert! Edgar eagerly agreed. I wouldn’t miss it.

Good, good! I’ll expect you tomorrow then, Herbert replied.

Delighted by their apparently swift acceptance into the Favershams’ intimate circle, Kate’s family moved on, leaving their youngest daughter to fend for herself. Kate met Lady Faversham’s gaze for only a moment before quickly lowering her eyes. Kate then sank into a deep curtsy, the skirt of her silver satin gown pooling around her in a lustrous cloud of flowing material. The older woman cocked her eyebrow with interest.

You may rise, child, Lady Faversham kindly acknowledged. These old bones don’t bend very well any more. What is your name, dear?

I – I am Kate, the Overton’s youngest daughter, my lady, Kate softly explained.

Lady Faversham glanced at the backs of her departing guests.

So, they left you, did they? the older woman queried, shaking her head.

Kate blushed, but wisely held her tongue. Lady Faversham nodded with approval.

You have good manners, I’ll grant you that, the older woman noted. Come here, child. Stand beside me.

Kate’s eyes widened as she realized the scope of the honor Lady Faversham had just bestowed upon her.

We’ll show them, won’t we? Herbert, step aside a little. Lady Overton is joining us, Lady Faversham directed.

Eh? Oh, very good, Winny, Lord Faversham acknowledged.

Kate allowed herself to be drawn between the older couple. She couldn’t help but blink in shocked surprise as Lady Faversham proceeded to introduce her to her other guests as her dear friend, Lady Overton. The rest of Kate’s family stared at her with envy. They couldn’t understand what Kate had done to achieve her coveted place in Lady Faversham’s receiving line.

Kate curtsied and nodded her head politely to the new arrivals and after a while, she began to relax. For some unknown reason, Lady Faversham genuinely seemed to like her, chatting amicably with her young companion in between the arrival of each guest. It was nice to allow herself a few moments to bask in the powerful lady’s glow of approval.

Kate was introduced to dozens of noble ladies and gentlemen as they proceeded through the receiving line. Unfortunately, one gentleman unnerved her a little. His name was Lord Charles Lawton. The nobleman was only a little older than Kate and he had a pleasant enough face and manner, but for some reason, just being near him made her skin crawl.

Lady Overton, Charles acknowledged with a smile, lifting Kate’s gloved hand to his lips.

Lord Lawton, Kate breathed. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.

Kate quickly withdrew her hand and stepped back a pace. There was something about the man’s beady little eyes that she did not like, something strange and dark.

I’m glad to see that Lady Faversham is introducing a few new faces into her little group, Charles noted. I think it makes the dancing so much more interesting. Don’t you?

Oh – yes. Indeed, Kate added, already glancing to the next couple in line.

Perhaps you’d be kind enough to save me a dance later on, my lady? Charles smoothly inquired.

I - I’m sorry, but I seem to have temporarily lost my dance card, Kate lied, resolutely tucking the card into the folds of her gown.

That is unfortunate. Lady Faversham, your young friend here appears to have misplaced her dance card, Charles informed the older woman. Do you think a second one could be obtained post-haste?

Oh, of course, my dear. Just see one of the servants. They’ll be happy to provide you with another one, Lady Faversham graciously replied. I should very much like to see you dancing.

There. You see? Charles asked, once more turning toward Kate. It’s all been arranged.

Kate barely managed a weak smile at the odious man. She nearly heaved an audible sigh of relief as Lord Lawton finally turned away and moved further down the receiving line.

When it was finally time to begin the dancing, Lord Faversham took Kate’s arm as well as his wife’s to lead them in. Kate had never felt so honored, nor so self-conscious in her life. All eyes rested upon them as they entered the ballroom. Hundreds of well-dressed men and women gazed