Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book (19 page)

She put both horses away for the night and removed Rajah’s saddle and bridle. For Wildfire, however, she only loosened his girth and removed his bridle since she wouldn’t stay long.

She tossed them both some hay and fed each a measure of oats and then gave Wildfire a last scratch between his ears.

As she worked, Catherine thought about Huntley’s attack and began to wonder about the unusual method. Although she’d read about the amazing medical uses for both chloroform and ether, she’d never considered that criminals might use them in an attack. Had it been a simple mugging, or was something more sinister at work? What if the men hadn’t been after money, but after Huntley himself?

She turned the idea around in her head. Yes, it made sense. Why else would they render him unconscious? They must have wanted to capture him.

Would Huntley agree with her? Should she even mention her suspicions to him? But how could she not? She’d never forgive herself if the same men attacked him again. She hurried back to the house to check on him.

“You’re a good chap to help me this way,” Huntley said as she walked into the room. He didn’t bother to open his eyes.

“It’s no trouble, my lord, I assure you. And I have some good news for you. It appears that your horse has found his way back home. I put him in the stables for the night.”

“What a clever creature,” he said, still keeping his eyes closed. “And you, Gray. You must call me Huntley. After all, I owe you my life. And besides, I detest all that my lording folderol. If there’s anything I can do for you, ever, you must let me know. I’m in your debt.”

“Did they steal anything?”

“Nothing. I checked my pockets, and everything’s still there. That’s blasted strange, don’t you think?”

“Do you think it’s possible they wanted to capture you?”

His eyes snapped open. “What? Me?”

“What else could they have wanted? It’s not as if muggers commonly attack their victims with chloroform. I’ve never heard of an attack like that before, have you?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I must not be thinking clearly, otherwise I would have thought of that myself.” He gave Catherine an approving nod. “Good thinking. You have a sharp mind.” Huntley closed his eyes and rubbed them, leaning back on the couch to find a more comfortable position. Then his eyes flew open. “Wait. Won’t your family worry about you? I imagine they’ll expect you home soon.”

“As long as I’m home well before daybreak, nobody should miss me.”
I hope
.

“Why did you leave Bernini’s early tonight? Wentworth was beside himself when he discovered you were gone.”

She shrugged. Obviously, she couldn’t claim a previous engagement since she just admitted she didn’t need to be home until daybreak. The silence stretched between them.

“Hmm. Then he must have been right. You were avoiding him. Do you want to wait so you can confront him at the tournament? It will be hard to do. It’s still nearly two months away.”

Catherine shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not used to playing butler, my lord, but is there anything I can help you with?”

“Huntley, you mean. I don’t like it when my friends
my lord
me.” He waved his previous question away. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you. It’s your business. If you don’t mind, would you bring me a scone from the kitchen? My cook left some for my breakfast, and I think it might be just the thing to settle my stomach.”

Catherine nodded. “I’ll make a pot of tea as well,” she said as she beat a hasty retreat.

It took her some time to find the items she needed in the kitchen and boil some water. She returned to the drawing room carrying the scones on a tray, along with a pot of tea.

While she was gone, Huntley must have turned down the gaslight and then returned to lie back down on the sofa. He was stretched out there with his arm flung across his eyes. She set the tray on the table and tried to stifle a yawn. “Huntley, would you like me to pour you a cup of tea?”

“No tea.” He had loosened his fencing jacket by unfastening the closure at his shoulder, causing it to fall partway open.

With Huntley's face covered by his arm, Catherine realized she could look at him openly without his knowledge, and she seized upon the opportunity. He really was a handsome man, with his broad shoulders and long, lean body. As she watched, his breathing became slow and steady and he drifted off to sleep. His muscular chest was exposed in a “V” where his fencing jacket fell open, and she wondered whether his skin would be soft or firm. Her fingers itched to explore that triangle, but she forced herself to move away.

Catherine sat near him in a chair by the fire. Should she stay? His color was definitely improving. Just a little longer, she thought, as she rested her head against the wing of the chair and stared at the sleeping man.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

19 - Dawn's Early Light

 

Catherine awoke with a start, not knowing where she was. Her dreams had been delicious. She could almost feel the lingering touch of Huntley’s kiss on her lips.

As she looked around the dark room, the events of the evening came back to her.

Her head felt hot and itchy. Never before had she slept in that blasted head covering. She rubbed at her scalp, trying to scratch, but her efforts did little to relieve the itch. She couldn’t remove the thing until she was home. She’d been here much too long already.

She turned to look for Huntley and discovered him still sprawled on the sofa. It was cold in the room, so she took a moment to build the fire back up. She moved to Huntley’s side and looked down at him in the flickering light. Was he well?

Listening to his slow, steady breathing reassured her. Rather than sitting next to him on the sofa, she knelt stiffly on the floor, her thighs tight from last night’s exercise. She reached out to push his hair from his face as she felt his forehead. No fever, thank goodness, and he didn't feel clammy either.

She slid her hand down and cupped his face. His cheek was rough from the stubble that was beginning to emerge since he’d last shaved.

What if something terrible had happened to him last night?

Huntley continued to breathe deeply, and Catherine stroked her thumb against his rough cheek, listening to the bristling sound his whiskers made as they scraped against her skin. Were the aftereffects of the anesthetic causing him to sleep so soundly?

Almost as if in a trance, Catherine leaned down and pressed her lips against his. She expected to feel the same jolt of emotion she'd felt last week when they’d kissed, and she was surprised when she didn't.

She sat back on her heels. How disappointing. The kiss left her unmoved, much the way Lord Watters’s kiss had done. She cocked her head to one side, gazing at his strongly sculpted face, his full lips.

Perhaps she’d done it incorrectly.

She tried again.

This time, as her mouth pressed against his, she felt his lips quiver in response. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against him as his mouth responded to hers, quickly, passionately. She widened her eyes in shock as she fell across him. She tried to pull away, but kneeling as she was, she couldn’t break free. His tongue slipped into her mouth and the shock forced a startled gasp from her. Was he even awake?

Huntley’s hands slipped up her back, along her neck, pulling her toward him, but when his fingers slid over the fabric of her head covering, she felt them freeze.

His hand clenched at her head-cover, yanking on it to pull her away from him, causing her chestnut hair to come spilling out. In shock, he tried to scramble away from her.

“Gray! What is the meaning of this!” cried Huntley.

She couldn’t bear the look of loathing on his face.

He scrubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked at her, and then he froze. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Lady Catherine?” He searched her face, looking into her eyes and at her loose hair.

“No!” she cried, trying to push her hair back into the head covering as she stumbled to her feet. “No! It’s not what you think. I, I...” She didn’t know what to say. The appalled expression she’d seen on his face had shaken her.

What had she done? How could she have been so stupid? Her chest constricted so tightly that she could hardly breathe. She had ruined everything in one rash moment. Her reputation, her chance to win the tournament, and any tentative connection she’d built with Huntley. They were all gone. Destroyed. The look on his face spoke volumes.

Huntley’s hand darted out and captured her wrist.

She pulled, but he held firm.

“Wait,” he said. “I don’t understand. Why would you do something like this?”

“Isn’t it obvious? To fence,” she said, as she shot him a perturbed look. “How else could I manage it?”

“But your family. Do they know?”

“Mother doesn’t. She would be appalled if she ever found out.”

“As would all of society.”

Her eyes widened. He wouldn’t, would he? “You can’t say anything. Please.”

He looked affronted. “Of course not. I won’t breathe a word of it. But won’t you be missed? Surely someone will notice you’ve been out all night.”

Her face paled. “I never should have stayed.”

“And that’s entirely my fault. You wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn't saved me.” He clenched his jaw.

She rose to her feet. “It was my decision. My risk.”

He shook his head. “I owe you a debt and I mean to repay it. I couldn’t live with myself if you were to suffer any consequences for the kindness you’ve shown me.”

“Don’t be foolish.”

“What if someone learns you stayed here all night? Your reputation would be ruined.” His gaze took on a look of grim determination. “I can’t have that on my conscience.”

As she looked down at his face, seeing it so clearly in the half-light, she suddenly became aware that the room was no longer as dark as it had been. While she’d been standing here talking to Huntley in the dark, the sun had begun to rise.

“I have to go home. Now.” Her voice rose in panic. “Mother will be frantic if she discovers I’m missing.” Her first step or two was stiff and clumsy from all of those lunges she’d practiced. She stumbled slightly but then quickly recovered and bolted out the door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

20 - When the Truth Is Known

 

Daniel realized morning was dawning. It was as though Catherine had taken the dark night with her when she’d fled from the room. In the light of day, everything seemed different.

She certainly seemed different. What a curious and intriguing woman. She was nothing like anyone else he’d met. And she was nothing like Lady Lydia. A respectable woman such as Lydia would never do something as scandalous as dressing as a boy in order to move among men. Of course, Lydia probably wouldn't have stopped to save someone being attacked either.

He had to admit, Lady Catherine looked quite fetching in her fencing garb. Especially those pants.

A slow smile spread across his face. He’d always thought that something about Gray hadn’t seemed quite right. That strange head covering never made sense to him, despite the story he’d heard about a severe burn to the boy’s head.

It explained why Gray had first stared at them and then avoided them last night at Bernini’s. Daniel had been looking forward to seeing Gray fence Wentworth again and had been disappointed by the boy’s sudden disappearance. He smiled at the thought of a woman besting his friend.

She wasn’t avoiding the match, she was avoiding me
. Most likely because of that kiss in the library.

But that made last night’s events even more perplexing. Why would an unmarried woman spend the night in his study? What a ridiculous and dangerous thing for her to do. Did she care nothing for her reputation? For her
family’s
reputation? How could she take such a risk? And what of him? He’d have been honor bound to marry her if they’d been discovered together.

He could only hope she made it home undetected. Based on Gray’s reputation at Bernini’s, Catherine must have been sneaking out for years. She’d have a plan for a situation such as this, wouldn’t she? Even though the girl was dangerously impetuous and unconventional, she obviously wasn’t simpleminded. Therefore it stood to reason that she would have prepared for an emergency such as this one.

He should have recognized the warning those whiskey-colored eyes represented. Hadn’t whiskey been his father’s downfall? With those eyes, she was sure to cause him trouble. She might have already done so.

It was a good thing he hadn’t chosen Lady Catherine as a bride. He just hoped he wouldn’t get stuck with her anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

21 - Feathers

 

Catherine crouched over Wildfire’s mane as he bolted from the alley next to Lord Huntley’s town house, startling two men standing across the way and causing the horses whose reins they were holding to shy in fright.

She slowed her pace fractionally to keep from drawing too much attention. There were already more people on the streets than she was used to seeing on her return trip. Delivery carts were making their rounds as servants began bustling about.

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