Twice the Temptation (32 page)

For an infinitesimal moment, Meghan went absolutely still. Catherine caught it in the corner of her eye. But her friend recovered quickly as she cut into her glazed duck. 

Rhys chuckled. “I fear our father is getting ahead of himself. I haven’t made up my mind as yet. This isn’t a decision I make lightly. I shall be wed to this woman for the rest of my life.” 

“Who is it that you have in mind? Is it Lady Julia Lloyd? She’s a lovely young woman and I’ve heard her mother isn’t the least interfering. Or perhaps you prefer Miss Elizabeth Young. She’s quite the beauty and loves a good charity.” Olivia appeared to be enjoying herself thoroughly. 

“I’m sure our father would rather you expend your efforts on finding a husband and not on a quest for my future wife,” he replied dryly. 

“Oh don’t be so provoking. You are my favorite brother—” 

“I am your
only
brother,” he pointed out. 

“—and you know how I adore a good wedding,” she continued without acknowledging the interruption. “I would accept either as my future sister-in-law.” 

“And you’re so certain that either lady would accept my proposal?” 

The question he posed bordered on ludicrous, as he must know. 

Olivia rolled her eyes in exasperation. “No sane, single, eligible woman in all of England would refuse you.” 

Meghan nearly choked on her wine at the remark that earned a bark of laughter from the earl. 

“Clearly you’ve forgotten Millicent Rutherford.” 

Olivia waved it off as if that particular proposal was of little consequence and one that needed to be discounted. “You were much too young then and everyone knew she’d been in love with James Rutherford forever, you yourself said that.” 

Meghan’s eyes watered but the coughing had subsided. 

“Lady Meghan, should I have Stuart call for a physician? I hope you aren’t coming down with something.” 

The earl was so solicitous, had she no knowledge of their past acquaintance, Catherine would have believed him to be sincere. She also noted that no mention was made of his failed attempt to court Meghan. Obviously a subject no one wanted to touch, certainly neither of the affected parties. Again, she truly began to wonder if the two had been more intimately involved than her friend had let on. The tension between them—or whatever it was—was thick enough to asphyxiate an elephant. 

Meghan removed her hand from her mouth after she’d regained her composure. “Nothing a drink of this won’t take care of,” she said and promptly guzzled her wine, leaving not a drop in the bottom of her glass. After delicately clearing her throat she remarked quite nonchalantly, “But I must admit I’m surprised to hear you’re contemplating marriage.” 

“And why is that?” the earl asked, cocking an eyebrow before taking a drink of his wine. He peered at her over the rim of the crystal glass. 

“You simply do not strike me as the sort of man who’d find marriage agreeable to your…way of living,” she replied gingerly and then proceeded to spear the duck with her fork and put it in her mouth. 

Lord Granville chuckled softly to himself as he stared down at his plate for several seconds. When he finally raised his head, Meghan had his undivided attention. “Which is a fine indication that you, Lady Meghan, don’t know me as well as you think you do.” 

Catherine was immediately struck by his statement. Apart from the blatant cryptic nature of it,
she
was guilty of withholding things from Lucas about her. Important things. Things that would surely matter to a gentleman of means and wealth. Would he still want her after she told him?     

“But please, do not look so concerned, Lady Meghan, I have not set my sights on you…this time.” The pause that punctuated his statement was deliberate, the latter spoken softly and without apparent rancor. 

Meghan immediately dropped her gaze to her plate, her face becoming a violent pink. Olivia cleared her throat and said nothing. 

You don’t know me as well as you think you do.
 

Catherine couldn’t get that statement out of her mind. Were her past trespasses things a man could ever forgive?  

“Lord Granville—” 

“Miss Rutherford, I can safely say we’ve been acquainted long enough to dispense with such formalities, wouldn’t you agree? When someone as young and beautiful as you addresses me by my title, I feel stodgy beyond my years,” he said, his roguish smile back in place. “Rhys or Granville will do just fine. Whichever you find more to your liking.” His gaze flickered to Meghan. “Of course my invitation includes you too, Lady Meghan.” 

Catherine smiled. “Then I shall insist you call me Catherine.” 

Meghan didn’t reciprocate his offer and her pointed silence echoed throughout the room. 

“Beg pardon, I interrupted you. You were saying?” He motioned with his hand for Catherine to continue and resumed eating. 

“Are you eager to start a family?” 

A small smile played across his lips as he finished chewing. “I suppose you could say so. Isn’t that why most gentleman choose to wed, to carry on the family name?” 

“Perhaps many but not all. My brother and his friends married for love. I don’t believe they ever
set
out to marry.” 

“Do you find my approach to marriage too pragmatic for your tastes?” he asked, amusement gleaming in his brown eyes. 

“No indeed not. But from what I know of society, men and women approach marriage with different minds.” 

“Do they?” His tone was laced with a certain amount of skepticism. 

“I believe so.” Catherine looked over at her friends for, if not verbal support, certainly moral. She was met with knitted brows—Olivia—and a carefully blank stare—Meghan. 

“Well, I can only speak for myself and I choose to marry for the usual reasons.” 

“You are in love? Or perhaps you are looking for love?” she probed. 

He emitted another soft laugh. “Unfortunately, Miss—Catherine, I am not so romantic.” 

She wouldn’t argue the point that one didn’t have to be romantic to be in love but it was true. “Then may I ask that if you don’t intend to marry for love, what will you look for in a wife? That her lineage is impeccable? That she is pretty and cultured and accomplished at the piano?” 

His gaze flickered across the table at Meghan but his expression revealed nothing. “I won’t lie, I have no objections to a pretty wife,” he said, winking. “Though I fear father would be more concerned when it comes to the matter of my future wife’s lineage, my requirements in that department aren’t quite as exacting. As for the piano, all I can say on that is that I am tone deaf.” 

His latter remark drew chuckles from her and Olivia. Meghan could not have looked more uncomfortable by the current vein of the conversation. 

Catherine appreciated his candor but her inquisition wasn’t over yet. “But I’m certain there are women you wouldn’t consider. A woman too old to give you a child or perhaps a woman with a sordid past?” She made the whole thing sound delightfully salacious to artfully disguise the true intent of her questions. 

“I do not plan to marry someone old enough to be my mother if that’s your point. As for the other, I guess it would greatly depend on just how sordid a past the woman has.” Another wink. 

“Indeed? A future duke married to such a woman? I thought gentlemen desired their brides excessively pretty, young, innocent, and free of potential scandal,” she shot back, her voice lightly amused. 

This seemed to give the earl something to ponder for he didn’t immediately reply but appeared to ruminate on it. “I very much suppose they do,” he murmured with a distant look in his eyes that suggested this was the first time he’d given it any thought. But then which gentlemen ever thought of marrying a fallen woman with a scandalous past? 

“Would any of those things matter to you if you loved her?” Catherine asked in finality. 

The earl glanced down at his plate for a brief moment and then lifted his gaze to her. “If I truly loved her and she would have me, nothing would prevent me from marrying her.” 

The room fell silent. 

That was precisely what Catherine needed to hear. 

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
T
WO
 

C
atherine had never been so nervous in her life. Repeatedly smoothing the skirts of her day dress did little to help her condition, the butterflies in her stomach felt like rabid woodpeckers.

She looked in the mirror. Again. Nothing had changed. Not her blue eyes, slender nose, or fuller than she’d ever liked mouth. She’d had her hair styled exactly as her sister normally wore hers. She was wearing Charlotte’s dress and the waist had only needed to be taken in half an inch. 

Overall, she looked precisely as she ought to. Like herself. Like Charlotte. But despite the painstaking effort she’d made with her appearance, Catherine knew it would be her actions that would be her downfall or success. Lucas had to believe the woman he was looking at, speaking to was Charlotte. If only the rest of it would be as easy as changing her hair and her dress. 

Before she exited the guest chamber, she drew in a fortifying breath. 

Courage, dear girl.
 

As she made her way down the stairs and outside where everyone was playing a high-spirited game of cricket on the back lawn, she spotted Lucas in a small group that included Lord Holden, Olivia, and Rhys. 

The moment Olivia caught sight of her, she motioned her over. Her friend’s eyes flashed her approval. Now Catherine had to ensure she captured the lilt of her sister’s voice. She’d spent the prior day with Charlotte and had practiced until she was hoarse. Judgment of her mastery had been rendered when Jillian, standing with her back to them, had listened to them speak and could not distinguish one voice from the other. 

“Charlotte, my dear, have you word from Catherine?” Olivia asked, knowing her performance was just as critical as hers. 

People generally believed what they were told to believe. If even her intimates treated her as Charlotte then undoubtedly she must be. 

The sun had made an appearance that day. Her friend was the perfect hostess in a silk, royal blue dress that complimented her eyes beautifully. The diaphanous sleeves matched the overskirt and the fitted bodice displayed Olivia’s lovely figure to its best advantage. 

“Yes. I just received word from her informing me that she won’t be arriving until the morning. Esther has taken ill. Catherine refuses to leave her side until the physician has seen to her. At present, he is in Bristol and won’t be returning until this evening.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie as Esther was suffering from a cold but it was nothing some linseed and rest wouldn’t cure. 

Lucas’s brow knitted. “She doesn’t intend to make the journey alone does she?” he asked sharply, looking none too pleased about that. 

“But of course not,” Catherine chided in an imitation of her sister that would have done her proud. “She will travel with one of the footmen I’m sure.” 

“I see,” he said, emitting a heavy sigh. 

The real Charlotte would have teased him for making his disappointment so obvious and laying his feelings bare like an enamored suitor. The pretend Charlotte was having thoughts of leaving the love of her life. 

Pursing her lips in a sympathetic moue, Olivia said, “My brother shall make sure you are adequately entertained until her arrival.” 

The corner of Rhys’s mouth lifted. “As long as you don’t expect my charm to be close to that of the beautiful Miss Rutherford.” 

His comment managed to elicit a smile from Lucas, which is precisely what it was intended to do. 

“Come, Charlotte, let us go find Meghan. Earlier she was inquiring about that beautiful new daughter of yours and your handsome son.” 

Eager to escape, Catherine followed Olivia back up to the house, leaving the men in discussion. 

They met Meghan on the terrace coming toward them. 

“Well, how did it go?” Meghan asked. 

“He didn’t suspect a thing,” Olivia said, her voice and face expressing relief that the initial hurdle had been cleared. 

“Very good. Very good,” Meghan said, nodding briskly and would have been rubbing her hands together had they been alone. 

“Now you must not go near him until after we retire for the evening,” Olivia was quick to remind her. For the fourth time since she’d arrived. “The less time you spend with him, the better the chances of continuing to fool him.” 

Fool.
 

The word made Catherine wince. She didn’t like it as it pertained to what she was doing. It didn’t speak of her more noble cause. And right now, there was no greater cause than this.