Only Scandal Will Do (14 page)

Manning bounded from his chair. “Let me see if I can persuade her to at least see you. I just pray you have a silver tongue in your head–and that she will give you an audience.” He quit the room at a run.

Duncan turned to the window, clasped his hands sternly behind his back, closed his eyes and waited. After what seemed at least a decade, he heard Manning calling, “Dalbury!”

He popped out of the receiving room, galvanized by the earl’s strident tone. “Where is Lady Katarina?”

“Gone to the docks.” Manning’s face was splotched with hectic color, whether from fury or fear he could not hazard a guess. “Her ship sails on the evening tide.”

“Come on.” Duncan headed for the door and the earl hurried after him, worry and indignation warring on his face. They climbed into the marquess’s carriage and set off.

“Don’t worry, Manning. It’s hours until she sails. We will reach her in time.”

“In time for me to beat some sense into her.”

Duncan smiled. “I thought I was the only man allowed to do that now.”

“She hasn’t accepted you yet, Dalbury, and likely never will.”

“We shall see.” He grinned. “I can be very persuasive.”

Manning shook his head, holding it in his hands. “I think I am going to be ill.”

Duncan chuckled. “And we aren’t even at sea yet!”

Chapter 12

Kat awoke to the slightly rolling sway of a ship at sea. Stretching out in the single berth of her cabin, she smiled at the thought of her escape. She was on her way to Virginia and Amiable. Hopefully to Amiable. Time enough to brood, though, once they were out on the ocean. Although then she would likely be too sick to brood.

She looked down at her makeshift night rail and frowned. Her chemise must do double duty until she got to Virginia, unless she took to sleeping naked, an idea so scandalous she blushed. Kat rose and donned her apple-green dress of yesterday, the only garment she would have throughout the voyage. She would be rather bedraggled six weeks hence when they docked in Virginia. Where Peter and her trunks had ended up she did not know, but certainly not aboard the
Constanza
. The first mate had informed her of this last evening before they sailed. Perhaps Mrs. Jameson could loan her some clothing. She would ask her chaperone if she saw her at breakfast; if not, she would pay the family a call afterward.

When she’d come aboard just after noon, the first mate had shown her to her cabin. She had spun him a tale of a dreadful suitor, a naive brother, and a true love in America. The sailor agreed to deny he ever saw her, should anyone ask. In exchange for his silence, half her coins now resided in the man’s pocket. But the ruse had worked. It was morning, she was at sea, and Jack and the malevolent marquess were miles away in London. A gleeful smile crept over her lips.

She must go up on deck and find where breakfast was being served; she might as well eat while she could. Smoothing her rumpled clothing in an attempt to look presentable, she sighed anew. Such a pity she hadn’t been able to bring Margery, but she would get used to doing things for herself. Would Amiable be able to afford servants? She shrugged. Domestic help was of small concern if she could only be safe from the marquess.

On deck, she peered around for a crewmember who could direct her. Another passenger–his suit of golden brown silk and his refined bearing bespoke him a gentleman–sat on a barrel, gazing out at the water. She approached him hesitantly, not wishing to disturb his reverie. Her stomach, however, had begun to make demands. She had foregone dinner to remain in the cabin lest someone see her before they left the dock.

She came to stand behind him, wondering how to best address him without startling him. Overtop the railing, buildings loomed. They were not in the open water, but moved slowly along the different docks within the city of London.

“Excuse me, sir, but do you know why we have not left the city waterway, yet? I was given to believe that we sailed on last evening’s tide. Has there been a change in plan?” Kat began to worry she would have to spend the entire day hidden in her cabin.

The man rose, uncommonly tall and slender, the morning sun glinting off his golden brown hair. He turned toward her and her worry transformed into shocked dismay.

“What the devil are you doing here?”

The Marquess of Dalbury took a step toward her and her stomach turned over, though not from the motion of the ship. She turned to flee but the marquess snared her wrist, holding her captive before him.

“I was waiting for you, Lady Katarina,” came his smooth reply. He gathered her arm in his, completely disregarding her outrage. “I have been up since dawn anticipating when you would awaken.” He smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he squinted against the light. “There has indeed been a change in plan. This ship is no longer sailing to America. As soon as it docks, however, I will be most happy to escort you back to your brother’s house.”

Kat gave a tremendous pull and squeezed her arm out of his. She whirled and pounded down the dark-planked deck in search of someone who could protect her from this wretched man. She found no one. Frantic, she tried to locate the helmsman, but found her way barricaded with barrels and boxes. She turned to find the marquess several feet behind her, leaning against the side of the wheelhouse. He still wore that damnable self-satisfied smile on his face.

“You do not trust my word on this, my lady? Shall we find your brother to confirm it?”

“Jack!” The pit of her stomach plummeted. Her brother had betrayed her, the despicable turncoat.

“Of course, I insisted Lord Manning act as chaperone to us last night, since we are not married...yet.” He smiled mischievously.

“As I made abundantly clear the last two times we met, my lord, I will see you in hell before I marry you.” She darted a look around the ship again, hoping for rescue, but not a soul stirred in the warm morning light. Damn! Had he put the whole crew ashore?

His smile broadened, if that was physically possible. “Actually, Lady Katarina, you have in the past likened me to your hope of heaven.”

She gave him a withering glance. Did the fool think to stand here and bandy words with her when she would just as soon push him over the rail?

As if reading her thoughts, he said quickly, “I can swim, Lady Katarina, so trying to throw me overboard will only delay our departure and ruin my suit.”

“I will ruin something else if I get the chance, my lord,” she muttered. Unable to bear facing him any longer, Kat lowered her eyes. “Where is my brother? If he is indeed on board.”

“Oh, he is here, have no fear of that. He is probably below having breakfast. Shall we join him?” Dalbury had the temerity to offer her his arm, which she pointedly ignored and brushed past him, heading back the way they had come.

“How did you manage to stop the ship’s sailing? Did you bribe the captain? Or is the owner a friend of yours?”

“Indeed, Lady Katarina, the captain was quite impervious to bribery.”

“So what did you do?”

“I bought the ship.”

Katarina stopped to stare at him in open-mouthed amazement. She glanced from side to side at the empty deck. “Did you forget to hire a crew?”

He laughed and took the opportunity to snare her arm and lead her toward the gangway. “The
Constanza
is a Dutch fluyt, mainly a cargo vessel, though this one has been refitted to accommodate passengers. One of its many attributes is that it can be crewed by as few as twelve men.” His smile widened. “Fewer under foot, you see.” His eyes twinkled in amusement. “As you might have guessed, I usually get what I want.”

The amusement died, replaced by a more sober countenance. “I do, however, sorely regret the means by which I tried to do so the evening we met. But I am not at all sorry to be in the position to offer my hand and heart to you.”

She slowed to a stop at the entrance to the gangway.

“Lady Katarina,” he entreated her, “if we had met at my aunt’s masquerade ball instead of at Madame Vestry’s, would you reject my suit so out of hand? Am I myself distasteful to you or is it the circumstances of our first meeting alone that makes you look on me with disfavor?”

Kat turned to him and opened her mouth for a glib retort, only to have the words die. The touchingly real torment in his soft brown eyes held her spellbound. Did he actually feel something for her? The thought both captivated and horrified her.

Struggling to reply to him, Kat tried to focus on something other than his hopeful face. “I hardly know what I would have done in those circumstances, will never know in fact. I cannot know you, Lord Dalbury, except by your deeds and they can hardly recommend you to me.”

Unaccountably driven to soften her words, she continued, “Since that night you have been...civil to me, but had you acted thus in March we would not be where we are now. I refuse to be forced into marriage with you, my lord. Whatever you and my brother have concocted, it will be to no avail. Neither you nor he can compel me to say my vows to you.” Despite this declaration, she had to turn away, as the devastation in his eyes sent a sharp pang to her heart.

She squared her shoulders and walked past him, toward the galley. Dalbury’s footsteps sounded behind her, and she closed her eyes almost in pain. Why did he have to be so damned engaging?

Because he was a practiced rake with a bag of tricks and the skill to make any woman lower her defenses. Just like she’d lowered hers that night in March. She felt a bloom of heat at the memory of how completely he’d fooled her into thinking he believed her story. Everything he said, every soulful look he gave was calculated to snare her. If she even thought of softening, of agreeing to marry the marquess, the conceited ass would win and she would be trapped forever with a faithless rake.

Inside the fair-sized, well-scrubbed galley, she discovered Jack helping himself to various breakfast dishes on a long table. By the time she sat on the hard wooden chair across from her brother, she had talked herself back into her firm resolve against the marquess. She squared her jaw in preparation for the onslaught she knew would come.

A forkful of eggs suspended before his mouth, Jack grinned sheepishly and the eggs continued their journey, albeit cautiously. “I see you have discovered our little change in plan, have you, Kat? I found that I really could not bear to see you go so soon. So Dalbury agreed to help me–”

“Oh, don’t bother to lie to me, Jack.” She sighed and helped herself to the eggs, meat, kippers and toast. Her displeasure had not affected her appetite, she was grateful to find. She would need all her wits and strength to outsmart these two.

Dalbury seated himself at the head of the table, loading his plate down as well. Perhaps he understood a battle should be fought with all one’s faculties–including a mind undimmed by hunger.

“You and Lord Dalbury have acted together, thinking to trap me into an alliance with a skillful rogue who refused to believe my word, tried to seduce me and nearly succeeded in raping me.” Her brother did not meet her gaze. “Let us not mince words any longer, my lords. That is exactly what occurred. And when viewed in this manner, even you, brother, cannot condone or condemn me to life with such a man.”

She grasped his hand and gave it a passionate squeeze. “We know little about this man, Jack, except what he did to me. I don’t know what he told you, but you still know only what he has said. Is he a man you can trust to tell the truth? I beg of you to let me decide what is best for me in this matter.”

Jack sat back in his seat, his face drawn with sudden pain. Good. Let him agonize over this decision. She stared at him, trying to set the lines of her face into a pitiful droop. She would bring all her considerable wiles to this battle.

“Damn it, Kat.” He looked more and more uncomfortable by the minute. “Won’t you even try a courtship with him?” He suddenly seemed very young and hopeful. “You might find that he’s not truly bad.”

She clenched her fork, flung the utensil onto the plank table with a clatter, put her head in her hands and moaned. What could she do if Jack tried to force this on her? Could she be strong and hold out? She knew she could be stubborn, but for years? She raised her head.

Dalbury had stopped eating, the food suspended before his face. He gazed back at her warily.

How bad would it actually be to be married to him? She remembered his kiss in the garden, and heat crept into her face. Her attraction to the marquess would be her undoing for sure. The man could be kind and charming, gentle and passionate. But he had been all those things in March and it had been a ruse. He had been after only one thing that night and still was. If she married him, she could never trust him, never be able to believe a word he uttered.

After one last accusing stare at Dalbury, she turned to her brother. “No, Jack. I cannot do this. If that means you must lock me away for the next seven years until I inherit my portion, that is your right. But if you thought you would lose me to Virginia, consider this. If you punish me for refusing to marry the marquess, from that moment you may as well count me dead to you. It will be as though I am sister no more, for I will not look at nor speak to you nor acknowledge you in any way.”

She grasped his hand. “There is another way to resolve this. Let me go to Amiable. It was a good enough plan for you before he showed up.” She nodded curtly toward the marquess. “And he changes nothing.”