Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book (5 page)

Last night, his mercurial friend hadn’t been at his best. He’d been obnoxious toward that boy, Gray, and had ended up making himself look like an ass. The outing hadn’t served as a release for Daniel’s tension, and he’d left Bernini’s no more relaxed than when he’d started. The tension was wearing on him, leaving him jumpy. When he’d had the feeling they were being followed and had mentioned it to Wentworth, the man had proceeded to chide him unmercifully about it. Once back at his town house, he’d snapped when Wentworth wouldn’t stop complaining about Gray. Fortunately, his friend had immediately changed his demeanor after that and started behaving in a more genial manner. The man’s lack of self-confidence sometimes made him defensive when he was in competitive situations. And since dinner parties were by nature non-competitive, he should have ample opportunity to make a good impression at Lady Wilmot’s.

Daniel gave his heavily scheduled calendar a frown. With all the late nights he’d been spending trolling for a bride, finding time to squeeze in any actual work was difficult. He needed to make his choice soon. Perhaps he should simply end the search now, settle upon Lydia despite her manipulations, and free up his calendar.

He let out a heavy sigh. When would he meet a quiet, intelligent young woman who was above reproach and content to live far from London? One equally content with an absent husband? He’d plucked a few wallflowers, pulling one out onto a ballroom floor and engaging another in conversation, thinking that a solitary woman might thrive in the type of environment he envisioned for his wife, but so far, none had met all of his criteria.

He sorted through the remaining invitations as he allowed his thoughts to continue wandering. All of the proper young ladies he’d met thus far seemed to have identical personalities. Not one of them stood out as being someone exceptional, nor had any of them stirred any feelings of attraction within him. But then again, he wasn’t looking for love, just a wife. Affection shouldn’t play any part in his decision.

He glanced at the clock. “Madson!” he shouted. “Where are you?”

His valet popped into the study with a bouncing step, carrying Daniel’s jacket. “You bellowed, sir? I’m right here. I repaired the button.”

Daniel ignored the “bellowed” comment and shrugged into the charcoal-gray jacket Madson held for him. As Daniel adjusted the cuffs at his wrists to show just the right amount of white, Madson nodded his approval.

“I need you to send replies to these invitations,” Daniel said, gesturing toward the two stacks on his desk. “The small pile contains the events I plan to attend. Send my regrets to the others.” The “regrets” pile was more than triple the size of the smaller one. “Make note of the ones I’ll attend in my calendar.”

Madson nodded as he straightened the piles. He handled most of Huntley’s personal correspondence, a common enough task for a valet employed by a bachelor.

“I have some business appointments, and then I have a meeting at the Ambridge Club with one of my managers. I should return in plenty of time to dress for dinner. Wentworth will be stopping by for me, so I won’t need the carriage this evening. The coachman can have the night off.”

Daniel turned toward the door, eating up the floor with his long strides, but he remembered something and paused to glance back over his shoulder. “If I’m running late, make sure you offer Wentworth a drink. He was quite put out the last time I kept him waiting and none was offered. Let’s make sure the evening begins on a good note.”

4 - Marching Orders

The next morning, Catherine woke up famished and eager to rush downstairs to the breakfast room. Now that she was back in London, she could slip into the ballroom and work through some fencing drills. She leaned over and touched her toes, stretching her stiff muscles. Her legs protested her strenuous use of them last night at Bernini’s, but that was the price she paid for the forced break in her fencing routine.

Her stomach rumbled, prompting her into action. Unfortunately, Mother would disapprove if Catherine skimped on her morning toilette, so she took her time and dressed with care. She selected a blue day dress, and Simpson, her lady’s maid, helped her into it. Catherine forced herself to sit without fidgeting while Simpson arranged her hair. As soon as she was done, Catherine hurried downstairs to the breakfast room and found Charles sitting at one end of the table. Judging by his full plate of food, he’d only just arrived.

Catherine glanced at his plate hungrily as she sidled into the chair to his left. “Has Mother been downstairs yet?”

“Yes, m’lady,” Percy, their butler, said as he placed Catherine’s meal in front of her. “She breakfasted about an hour ago and is now in the morning room. She plans to stop here to speak with you when you’re done eating so that you may both plan your day.”

Both plan their day? Catherine’s mood plummeted as she realized her plans for fencing in the ballroom would probably have to be set aside. Shortly, Mother would inform her of
her
plans for their day, and she would expect Catherine to follow her orders without question. “Thank you, Percy,” she said. He bowed slightly and left the room.

Catherine stifled a small yawn, and Charles grinned at her. “Now, why on earth would you be so tired this morning?”

Catherine stared at him blankly for a moment but then flushed as she realized he must be referring to last night’s outing. They had long ago agreed that the topic of fencing would be strictly off limits. “Do you mean the fact that we only arrived yesterday?” she said in icy tones. “It was indeed a long trip.”

“You know that’s not what I meant. We’re alone, Catherine...” Charles stopped short at the terrified expression as she looked past him, and then glanced over his shoulder to see the door opening. Catherine held her breath until she saw her little sister, Sarah, enter the room. Charles shot Catherine an apologetic look and mouthed the word “sorry.”

Sarah ran to the table and sat next to Catherine, staring greedily at the food on her sister’s plate. “GoodMorningCatherineYouSleptLate!CanIHaveABiteOfYourHam?” The words flew out of her mouth so quickly that it took Catherine a moment to decipher them.

Catherine laughed and offered Sarah a bite of ham from her fork. “I’ll have Percy bring you a plate. Will this be your second breakfast?” She reached out to ring the bell, and Percy appeared at the door. “Sarah needs her second breakfast,” she said with a wink at her sister.

Percy gave a nod and slipped back out the door, returning after a moment with another plate of food.

“Percy, you're astonishingly prompt. Are you clairvoyant?” Charles sounded genuinely surprised.

A pleased smile curved across Percy's normally stoic face. “The cook saw her returning from the stables and took the liberty of preparing a plate.”

“They know me well, don’t they?” Sarah grinned as she cut her ham.

“You have an astonishing appetite for a thirteen-year-old girl.” Charles shook his head ruefully. “You’ll end up plump and round if you aren’t careful.”

“Ha! Not with her constant activity. The child never slows down.” Catherine reached out and plucked a bit of straw from her sister's hair. “She’s like a little wind-up toy that never tires.”

Sarah rolled her eyes at them and swatted Catherine's hand away. Without waiting to swallow, she launched into a recitation of the observations she’d made that morning.

“Did you know that Princess had kittens? And Lord Whatsis is being a terrible bully to all of the other cats!” She lowered her voice and said, “He’s a blackguard! I saw him attack Mister Flitwitty this morning, and I had to throw a bucket of water on him to make him stop.” Her eyes widened as she glared in annoyance. “Can you believe it? Billy just laughed at me! He thought the entire incident was just a morning’s entertainment!”

“Well, perhaps it was,” Catherine suggested. “After all, he works in the stables and has probably seen hundreds of cat-fights. I’m guessing your reaction provided him with a diversion from his normal routine.”

Sarah thrust out her chin. “Why do you have to take
his
side? I'm your sister.” A sly look came over her face. “He was telling me about a different sort of diversion last night. One that
you
provided.” She gave Catherine a broad wink.

Catherine felt herself flush with annoyance as Charles and Sarah exchanged grins. “I don’t appreciate the casual way in which you both mention my...” she paused as she glanced around the empty room, “my interest.” She used hushed, staccato tones to emphasize her annoyance. “Perhaps I need to be clearer. You can
never
allude to it. You must guard my secret, because if it were to become public knowledge, it would ruin not only me, but our entire family.” She glanced at the closed doors. “We have new servants in the house. How can you be certain they're trustworthy? For all you know, someone could be listening at the door even now, or Mother could walk in and overhear something that might allow her to piece together small clues. I beg you, for all our sakes, don’t try to bait me or tease me. You’re playing with fire!”

Catherine was pleased that they both had the good grace to look ashamed.

“I, for one, should know better,” Charles said. “Having recently had a firsthand view of the damage rumors can cause, I should have been more circumspect.” His jaw flexed as he glanced down at his plate in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, too," Sarah said. "Can I make it up to you? Perhaps we could go riding in the park together."

The child was incorrigible. "And how is that making it up to me? You are always pestering me to ride with you."

Sarah’s bright eyes widened and her cheeks grew pink, sure indicators that she knew she'd been caught in her ruse. "But you always have fun when we go out together."

"Fine, you little minx. I'll take you out tomorrow."

Sarah grinned in triumph and turned back to her plate.

Catherine relaxed. It was obvious that they were genuinely contrite. She knew they’d never intentionally put her at risk. And anyway, she never could stay angry for long. Forgiveness came easily to her.

"I need to take my leave," Charles said, rising to his feet.

At that moment, the door to the main hall opened, and their mother walked in. “Good morning, children,” came her peremptory greeting. “I'm relieved to have caught you all here before you scatter to the winds. But Charles," she said, pinning him with her gaze, "I'm surprised you're still here. I thought you were meeting with your father’s lawyers this morning."

“As a matter of fact, I was just leaving.” He leaned down to brush his cheek against hers in an approximation of a kiss. She was a slim woman, and at five-foot-five, she was only an inch shorter than Catherine, but Charles seemed to tower over her. “I’ll be home later to change, and then I have a dinner engagement,” he said.

“That sounds lovely, dear. I hope everything goes well today,” Mother said in a vague tone, her attention already focused on her youngest child as Charles left the room. “Sarah, your governess will be returning late this afternoon from holiday. Make sure you wear something presentable when you greet her. Your sister and I will be out making social calls.”

“Yes, Mama,” said Sarah, who dutifully added, “I'm looking forward to seeing her." Mother gave her an approving nod before turning her attention to her eldest daughter.

“Catherine, dear, you look quite lovely this morning.” Her voice sounded satisfied, and she gave a brief nod of approval. “That shade of blue becomes you. I hope you plan to wear it today when we make our round of calls.”

So much for fencing. Catherine hid her disappointment at the news, but she knew better than to show even a hint of dismay. Mother often gave the impression of an army general reviewing his troops when she met with her children. Perhaps it came from the years she’d spent with Papa in India while he was still in the military. And like a general, she expected her orders to be obeyed without question or complaint. “I’ve called for the carriage to be brought around at half past two. I trust that you’ll be ready to depart by then?”

It was worded as a question, but Catherine recognized one of her mother’s commands when she heard it. She nodded her assent.

Sarah stood from the table. "May I be excused?"

Mother nodded. "Try not to muss your dress,” she said, and Sarah scampered from the room.

Catherine rose from the table as well, but Mother held up her hand, gesturing to her to wait. She paused, and Catherine could hear Sarah’s footsteps retreating down the hallway toward the rear of the house. Once she was out of earshot, Mother took a step closer to Catherine. “Now that we’re back in London, our primary goal will be to find you an appropriate match. To that end, we’ll attend every social function that offers high visibility and draws a respectable number of bachelors. Your father’s new title of Earl of Kensington should far outweigh his involvement in trade. Not just any man will do, of course, but I’m certain you’ll be able to choose someone suitable who has status and connections.” Mother continued talking, laying out her campaign with near-military precision. “If everything proceeds according to plan, we should secure an engagement for you within two months.”

“Two months!” Catherine blurted out. “Why the rush?” A rising sense of panic made the pitch of her voice higher than usual. The tournament was also in two months.