Twice the Temptation (23 page)

“What is done is done. Neither of us can undo the past. But the worst we can do is not to learn from it. And what I hope we’ve all learned is that love is both fragile and strong. And not all of us shall get second chances. Alex and I were fortunate that you and Lucas joined forces and made it possible for us to reunite. If you won’t do this for yourself and Lucas, then I want you to do it for me. If you believe you owe me anything, then this is what I want from you, a chance for Lucas to prove himself to you.”

Catherine’s bottom lip began to tremble as a swell of love so strong for her sister came over her. She made it impossible for her to refuse. Pulling her sister into her arms, Catherine hugged her close and murmured in her ear, “Then I shall do it with your blessing.”

T
hey’d only just stepped into the ballroom at Wesley Court when Olivia nudged her side and gestured to their left, pointing her white gloved finger ever so discreetly behind her silk-flowered fan. “Look, it is Lucas and his sisters.”

Catherine followed the direction of her friend’s sideway glance and had her breath snatched clean away. Not that she hadn’t been expecting him—she had. She’d simply forgotten how devastating he looked in black formal dress. The term
masculine physique
did not even begin to describe how well his broad shoulders and chest filled out his topcoat. Unlike most of the gentlemen in attendance, the shirt he wore under his charcoal-gray waistcoat was not a snowy white but a lovely pearl gray.

Their hostess, Lady Willoughby approached the trio with the voluptuous Lady Ramsey at her side. Catherine had to stifle the urge to walk over and grab the countess by the skein of false hair coiled on the crown of her head when she sidled up too close to him while their hostess performed the introductions.

Catherine had heard of the countess’s reputation. Widowed at the age of twenty-eight—which is bound to happen when a woman marries a man three times her age—it was rumored Lady Ramsey vowed never to marry again. It was also rumored that she was a woman of certain appetites so she simply took lovers, the more virile and handsome, the better, thereby making Lucas the perfect candidate.

“It would appear Lady Ramsey has decided on her next conquest,” Catherine said wryly, trying not to sound like a jealous shrew.

“You needn’t worry about her.” Standing on her other side, Meghan dismissed the countess’s interest with a flick of her fan. She’d arrived at the ball a good half hour before she and Olivia had made their appearance. “Lucas has eyes for you and only you. That will be proven in a matter of days. In the meanwhile, you must encourage him. The last thing you want is for him to lose hope completely.”

After she had returned to Rutherford Manor the prior evening, Olivia and Meghan had called on her—summoned by her sister no doubt. She had scolded them about their clandestine meeting with Charlotte and involving her in their outrageous scheme. Once her friends had endured her mild tongue-lashing, they’d immediately gotten down to the planning of it.

In the end, it was concluded that their biggest challenge was the difference in their voices. Charlotte’s voice had more of a lilt and her time in America had softened the distinct crispness of her English accent, although the distinction was no longer as strong as it was since her return.

Olivia had suggested that whenever Catherine speaks to him, she whisper. Meghan had suggested she not speak at all. The compromise had been that with daily practice, Catherine could come up with a fair imitation of her sister’s voice by the week’s end. Beyond that, she would endeavor to keep her interaction with Lucas to a minimum.

A woman doesn’t particularly require many words to seduce a man,
Olivia had claimed, giggling.

Quite the contrary. I believe the less said the better,
Meghan had chortled in response.

Her present problem was that only days ago she’d rebuffed him thoroughly and completely. And if she were to go by his manner toward her the day before, he was done with her. Now she was in a fix and needed to do an about face while managing to hang onto her pride, which would be the tricky part.

“He doesn’t appear heartsick over the loss,” Catherine said, sliding another glance his way.

Despite the fact he’d known she’d be in attendance this evening, not once since she’d entered the ballroom had he so much as glanced around. She’d thought to see him perusing the crowd for her, hoping to catch a glance. That was when she’d hold his gaze and bestow the kind of smile on him that would indicate her change of heart.

Instead, the countess remained the focus of his attention, his beautiful smile centered on her. Nothing in his demeanor would indicate a man whose heart had recently been crushed. In fact, he appeared quite cheerful, laughing now at something the countess had said.

Catherine’s eyes narrowed at the sight, and only when Meghan tapped her fan lightly on her sleeve, did she tear her gaze away.

“So when he asks you to dance, you will of course say yes,” Olivia commanded.

“That is
if
he asks me to dance. By the looks of it, Mr. Beaumont may have already moved on to greener pastures,” Catherine replied, striving to keep the green-eyed monster from casting its pall over her entire evening.

“My dear, there are no pastures greener than yours,” Meghan said, tittering, her eyes filled with mirth.

Her friend thought herself so excessively amusing. “Pray, Olivia, is your brother in attendance?” she asked innocently, knowing full well he was not. But the question had the desired effect for it immediately squelched Meghan’s merriment as she turned a rosy shade of pink, pursed her lips and glared at Catherine.

“No, Rhys is in London. He won’t return home until the house party. He said he had some news—”

“Come, let us say hello to Lucas and his sisters.” Meghan interrupted, apparently eager to get off the topic of Lord Granville. Looping her arms through hers, she firmly steered Catherine toward where Lucas, his sisters and Lady Ramsey stood under one of the two decorative balconies in the room. Olivia followed at a more sedate pace.

Lucas turned his gaze to her when they came within feet of him. It’s almost as if he’d been aware of her presence the entire time but had been studiously ignoring her.

Caroline gave a cry of delight when she saw her. She immediately tempered her jubilance and tentatively asked, “Charlotte?”

“It’s ever so difficult to tell the two of you apart,” Lydia said, looking at her equally perplexed.

Laughing, Meghan and Olivia agreed, claiming sometimes they were even confused. Lucas looked on in silence, his eyes fixed on her. He knew. Without her saying a single word but somehow he knew. Their plan was surely doomed from the start. She’d never be able to fool him.

“I shall give you another guess,” Catherine replied smiling, now acutely aware of Lucas’s proximity.

Both sisters laughed. Lucas and Lady Ramsey remained silent.

“Miss Rutherford, forgive me. I fear I shall never get it right the first time,” Caroline said but didn’t appear overly concerned about it.

“You have no need to apologize. I am quite accustomed to it.”

“Where is Charlotte?” Lydia asked, looking around as if expecting to spot her momentarily.

“Unfortunately, my sister was not able to attend tonight. The baby has been fussy so she didn’t want to leave her.”

They then moved on to dispense with the greetings. Lucas acknowledged Catherine with the same polite bow he bestowed upon her friends, but made no overtures of conversation, immediately turning to give the countess his exclusive attention.

Meghan asked Lucas’s sisters how they were enjoying their visit so far. While his sisters chattered away, detailing all the events they had attended and the places they had visited, Lucas and the countess drifted several feet away from the group.

While girlish chatter abounded around her, Catherine covertly watched as he continued to give Lady Ramsey his undivided attention. A smile tipped the corners of his mouth and the effect of it being thusly directed—as to say, not at her—caused her heart to pinch. And given the music and general sounds of revelry, his voice was too low for Catherine to clearly make out what he was saying.

The countess’s eyes shone. She stared up at him as if a dalliance between them was now a foregone conclusion, and one she anticipated greatly. And the way in which Lucas smiled as he leaned down to speak into her ear said he was more than amenable to the idea.

“Catherine, do you think you would ever go?”

At her name, Catherine willed the bile back down her throat and turned her attention back to the conversation she’d long stopped following. Lydia had spoken and was awaiting an answer.

“My apologies. My mind was elsewhere. Would I ever go where?”

“To America. Lady Olivia and Lady Meghan were just telling us they’d like to visit one day.”

Eyebrow raised, Catherine turned to her friends. Indeed? This was the first time she was hearing of this. Paris and Florence, yes, but if she remembered correctly, Meghan had stated in no uncertain terms that from what she had heard, the vast majority of the country was too barbaric for her tastes.

As if reading her thoughts, Meghan gave her a knowing look and declared, “Yes well if Mr. Beaumont is a representative of the men in America, I shall book a passage there tomorrow.”

“I fully concur,” Olivia said, her violet eyes shining with mischief. “Do tell us, are
all
the men in America as handsome?” she asked, addressing Lucas’s sisters.

“Why back home, my brother is considered an ogre. This past year alone, I don’t believe he was able to bribe a single woman into accompanying him on a stroll or in favoring him with a dance,” Caroline replied, all mock serious.

Catherine lifted her mouth and prayed it resembled a smile because she wasn’t a fine enough actress to join in the laughter of the other women.

The small group quickly disbanded when three gentlemen came to claim Meghan, Lydia and Caroline for the next dance. Catherine had declined two requests for the quadrille in the secret hope that Lucas would ask her, only to be forced to watch him escort Lady Ramsey out onto the dance floor. A bit of torture she could surely have done without.

“Think nothing of it. She means nothing to him, He’s merely being polite is all,” Olivia assured her, once she’d sent Lord Blakely on his way with the promise of a dance later that evening. The man did have two left feet and the quadrille required a certain amount of coordination.

“Except a woman to warm his bed.” It was impossible to keep her tone free of the jealousy pumping through her veins.

“He is in love with
you
. A man doesn’t take a woman to his bed only days after he’s declared his love to another.”

“Unless it wasn’t truly love in the first place,” Catherine stated quietly.

“But you’ve been turning him away. Until you tell him different, he’s no doubt trying to make the best of things. I mean, the man is at a ball. He is expected to dance, is he not?” Her friend’s voice held a hint of chastisement.
You’ve made your bed, now you must lie in it
kind of chastisement.

“I’m hardly going to do anything of the sort when he’s so eager to take up with other women,” Catherine snapped, her hurt giving way to waspishness.

“Well you must give him a reason to hope—a sign that all is not lost.”

A sign? No, what he needed was some sound advice.

C
HAPTER
F
IFTEEN
 

“Y
ou cannot be seriously meaning to pursue that—” Catherine snapped her mouth shut and turned her head, giving Lucas her profile. What she’d intended to utter would have been offensive. Almost as offensive as Lady Ramsey herself.

They stood shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the grand fireplace and watched as her friends and his sisters were led off to the dance floor by their respective partners. Not a coincidence, Catherine was certain. The setup had her scheming friends’ fingerprints all over it. How they’d managed to pry the countess from Lucas’s side was the greater accomplishment, but one for which she was grateful. She’d been fairly champing at the bit to speak with him alone the better part of the past two hours.