Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book (6 page)

Mother raised her eyebrows. “It may be true that this is your second season, but with the change in your father’s status, it should be a simple matter to find someone suitable. I expect your full cooperation in this.”

Catherine nodded mutely. Over the years, she’d come to dread seeing this level of enthusiasm in her mother. Having all of that energy focused on finding a husband meant that the task would take over their lives. Simply contemplating all of the balls, soirees, social calls, and dinner parties Mother had itemized left Catherine exhausted. How would she find time to prepare for the tournament?

Mother accepted Catherine's nod of agreement as though her cooperation had already been assumed. “Now that we’re back in London, we need to make our presence known. The first important step is to make a round of calls. I know it will mean spending the afternoon driving all around London, but it must be done. Meet me in my office at a quarter past two.”

Catherine pressed her lips together and forced out a faint smile of acquiescence.

5 - Paying Calls

Years ago, Catherine had learned to craft something she liked to think of as her social mask. It wasn’t a tangible item, but still, she never attended any social situation without first slipping it in place. And she never faced her mother without taking a moment to compose herself and employ that essential bit of armor. Mother’s insistence on conformity had caused Catherine to craft the mask, and her years of secret fencing had forged it into something akin to tempered steel. She rarely allowed any errant emotions to slip past it.

At a quarter past two, Catherine slid that social mask firmly in place as she joined her mother in her office. “Good afternoon,” she said, and her mother turned to face her, seeing only the pleasant and proper young woman that Catherine wanted her to see. Catherine noticed a glint of light reflecting off a silver object in her mother’s hand and crossed the room to stand next to her. “What’s that?”

“Do you like it? It’s my new calling card case.” Mother handed it to her. “The cover has an engraving of Prince Albert’s new Balmoral Castle.”

Catherine held the case for a moment, tracing her finger across the delicate edges of the engraving.

“The castle won’t be complete for a few years, but this is based on the architect’s drawings. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Catherine nodded as she continued to examine the case. Queen Victoria was building the castle in Scotland for her husband, Prince Albert. Victoria refused to give him control of her kingdom by naming him king, preferring to keep Great Britain’s reins firmly in her own hands. Unfortunately, Catherine wouldn’t have a similar option once she married. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and Mother’s announcement of her plan to have Catherine speedily betrothed had created a tight knot of dread in the pit of her stomach. The idea of losing what few freedoms she possessed terrified her. Ever since Mother had unveiled her plan, the tangled knot had been shooting out little tendrils of self-doubt.

Rules. Her life was controlled by formal rules others had created: rules for eating, speaking, walking, and marrying. They boxed her in, leaving her with a narrow set of choices. Now that she was the daughter of an earl, the rules had become that much more onerous.

Catherine handed back the case and then watched as her mother gathered a stack of brand-new calling cards and tucked them inside it. She handed one to Catherine to examine. They were printed on embossed white cardstock with “Lady Kensington” on top and with her own name, “Lady Catherine Williams,” below it, all in small, simple type. She shuffled closer to her mother’s desk to examine the other two boxes of cards. One set had “Lady Kensington” printed on them for when she made calls alone, and the other set was for Papa. His were printed on plain, flat card stock, but the other two sets had a slight gloss, all perfectly proper and tasteful. And all printed according to society’s strict rules.

She picked up one of her father’s cards, smoothing her fingers across his name. “Have you heard anything from Papa?”

“Not since that last letter a few days ago. He hopes to be back in time for the Norfolk Ball.”

Catherine nodded. That was still a month away. These days, Papa was gone more than he was home. Between his business interests and his occasional work for the queen, he had many obligations that made it necessary for him to travel. She wished he’d come home. She missed him, and Mother’s mood always mellowed when he was around.

“Now we’re ready.” Mother tucked the calling card case into her reticule and strode through the door, intent on maintaining their schedule.

They set out at the perfectly proper time of half past two. As they neared the home of Mother’s closest friend, the Dowager Countess of Wilmot, Catherine inched forward on her carriage seat so that she was perched on its edge. Mother always marked their return to London by visiting the Wilmot residence for her first official call of the season. Lady Wilmot’s only daughter, Lady Elizabeth, was a year younger than Catherine, and they’d become close friends over the years.

Lady Wilmot greeted them as they entered her morning room. Pale-yellow curtains were pulled back, welcoming the bright winter sunlight. “I received your letter in the morning post informing me that you’d be returning to Kensington House. Welcome back to London.”

“You must catch us up on all the happenings around town.” Mother sank onto the edge of the soft yellow settee, and anticipation lit her face with an internal glow. She sat forward, appearing eager to hear what her friend had to say. “And I’m quite curious to learn about this year’s eligible bachelors.”

Catherine suppressed a groan of frustration at Mother’s words. She glanced at Elizabeth and frowned, and then led the way toward a smaller settee at the far end of the room. She certainly didn’t want to listen to Mother repeat her plan for Catherine’s marriage campaign.

Catherine tried to block out her mother’s words from across the room as she and Elizabeth settled in, but it was difficult. Fortunately, the sofa they’d chosen was positioned so that the tea tray and a bouquet of pink hothouse roses served to partially screen them from view.

Elizabeth’s vivacious green eyes flashed with exuberance, but she kept her voice low as she greeted her friend. “Lord Stansbury is back in town, as is Sir Anthony Watters. Didn’t they both offer for you last year?”

Catherine frowned. “Yes, but I never seriously considered either one of them. Watters changes his attachments so quickly it’s hard to know where his heart lies from one week to the next. And I never liked Stansbury. He’s overly fond of gambling and not at all pleasant. I do hope there are some new faces in town this season.”

Elizabeth scooted forward to the edge of the sofa so vigorously that she caused the soft, black curls to bounce around her face. “But they’re all new to me, since this is officially
my
first season. With last year’s being cut short before I’d barely begun, I’ve decided not to count it.” She’d been called away from London when her aunt had become ill, and Elizabeth had remained by the woman’s side throughout her decline.

“I always loved hearing your impressions about people during that month you were here. Your ability to assess a person’s character is quite astounding. I must confess, I’ll need your advice.” Sometimes Elizabeth’s talent at understanding people and their motivations bordered on clairvoyance. Catherine wondered, not for the first time, how she had managed to conceal her passion for fencing all this time. Perhaps it was simply too far-fetched for Elizabeth to suspect.

“My advice? Why?”

“Mother is determined to marry me off quickly. She’s like a general planning a siege, and I almost pity the bachelor she decides to target.”

“You know I’ll do anything to help.” Elizabeth reached out and gave her hand a quick squeeze as she shot a glance toward their mothers.

Catherine peeked around the bouquet and caught her mother eyeing her with a contemplative gleam in her eye. “She’s going to be difficult,” Catherine said, “so, out with it. We may not be able to stay for long, since we have a dozen more calls to make, and I need your insights.”

“Hmm,” Elizabeth said, tapping her finger against her chin. “I think we can eliminate the precocious French gentleman I just met. He may be wealthy, but he has no title. Plus, he’s quite the tease. Everything he says seems to be with the intent to curl one’s toes. There’s even a rumor that some disgruntled husband shot him after finding him in an indelicate situation with his wife. It all happened last fall around the time of the big jewel theft while you were in the country.”

Catherine raised her eyebrows. “You’re right. I doubt he’d be a match. Come on. You can do better than that.”

“There are a couple of Scottish lords who are rather handsome. But there seems to be some scandal surrounding the one searching for a bride. I haven’t been able to gather the particulars, but I’m still working on it. I think his friend attends many of the events with him for moral support. Lady Larchmont held a small musicale in her home two nights ago and they were there.” A coy smile played around Elizabeth’s lips. “I think our nemesis, Lady Lydia, may be hunting the one who is searching for a bride. I’ve heard it rumored that he’s quite wealthy, even though he’s been sullying himself by dabbling in trade.”

Catherine froze.
What had Elizabeth just said?

Elizabeth paled and touched her fingertips to her mouth. “Oh, Catherine. I’m
so
sorry. I hope I didn’t offend. I was just being...”

Catherine waved the words away. “Don’t be silly. It’s a commonly held attitude. But I refuse to be ashamed that Papa went into trade. After all, he never expected to inherit the earldom. And his hard work helped fill our family’s empty coffers. He’s done an admirable job.”

“But that’s
never
been my opinion. I hope you know that.” Elizabeth looked stricken. “It’s just that I found myself caught up in recounting gossip and never thought about how it would sound to you. It won’t happen again.”

Catherine couldn’t stay angry with her. People sometimes said things they regretted. She reached out and patted her friend’s hand. “I understand. We’ve always been the best of friends. Don’t dwell on it. Please go on. I want to hear more about your impressions.”

Elizabeth squeezed her hand in return and then slid forward on the settee to pour tea. Catherine noticed that the bright smile Elizabeth pinned on her face wavered for a moment and then held. She appeared to be making a valiant effort at rekindling the feeling of intimacy she’d broken with her careless words. “Do you want to hear more about the musicale?” Elizabeth asked. “It’s quite an entertaining story.”

Catherine nodded.

Elizabeth sipped her tea. “I wish you’d seen Lady Larchmont. She was all but pushing her daughter into the Scotsman’s arms. He had the good grace not to look annoyed, but he did manage to slip away early. She was quite put out.”

“Who? Lady Larchmont or her daughter?”

“Ha! Both. Lydia has clearly set her cap for him.”

“The gentleman had best watch his step. Lady Larchmont can spin quite the web.” Catherine took a sip from her teacup and then set it down. “Speaking of webs, how is Lydia’s sister, Cynthia? Her mother managed a coup with that particular wedding. I thought the man was a confirmed bachelor.” Catherine hadn’t been able to attend the wedding last fall, since they’d still been in mourning. “I haven’t seen Cynthia in months. Is she happy?”

The playful light disappeared from Elizabeth’s eyes as her hand tightened on her teacup. “I saw her recently, along with her new husband.” She set the china cup to the side with an uncharacteristically noisy clatter and then straightened it with a look of embarrassment. She glanced at Catherine and then back at her clenched hands in her lap. “All is
not
well with Cynthia, and I’m concerned. From what I hear, she’s been unusually clumsy since her wedding, and at the musicale, she walked with a limp. I’ve seen bruises on her arms, but she claims she fell. She falls far too frequently these days. She also seems to have developed an aversion to her husband. They’re almost never seen in public together.”

Catherine made a small sound of dismay, and Elizabeth glanced up, her troubled expression revealing the depth of her concern. It was obvious that poor Cynthia wasn’t in the marriage of her dreams, but of her nightmares. “What of her parents? Can’t they do anything to help her?”

“I don’t know.” Elizabeth gave a disconsolate shrug. “She’s still with him, so they can’t have done much. But then again, she’s married, so there’s little her parents
can
do. Her husband holds all the power. Supposedly, he wants Cynthia to give him an heir, but I can’t help wonder how that can possibly occur with all of the
accidents
that befall her.”

Catherine’s mounting sense of injustice began to overwhelm her. Of course, her own father would never expect her to remain with such a monster, but Lord Larchmont obviously had a vastly different attitude with regard to propriety and matrimonial responsibility. How could he turn his back on his own daughter? “And now they’re trying to marry off Lydia as well,” Catherine said. “I hope, for her sake, they choose more carefully this time.” She might not like the girl, but that didn’t mean she wished her harm. Her gaze darted toward her mother again. Catherine knew she’d never consider choosing such an unfit husband for her daughter, but how well could one know another person’s true character? After all, look at what she’d been able to conceal from the world for the past ten years. Cynthia’s husband had obviously been able to hide his true character as well. She’d certainly never heard even a hint of a rumor about him until now. Considering the many stories she’d heard at Bernini’s over the years, he must have been extremely circumspect.