‘Was he not her conspirator?’ she said. ‘Are you certain she has not been in contact with him?’
‘Quite sure. She proved herself to be an adequate actress with my family, but she is not that good. I could see the true fear in her eyes when she spoke of Webster. He had her, and all my family, in his power for too long. He surely won’t walk away from all that without a fight.’
Catalina turned his words over in her mind. Bullies like Webster might hide like the cowards they were when directly confronted, but they would wait and scheme to get what they wanted. She had met too many people just like that in her life. Webster had thought he had a grand prize in his sights; he would be enraged at losing it and would surely blame Jamie for that. Webster had hated him so much even in Spain.
She looked back at the party. Everyone was laughing and dancing, having a splendid time, and Castonbury stood as the glowing, glittering backdrop. A symbol of permanence and tradition that she had come to feel such fondness for. A man like Webster couldn’t be allowed to mar even a stone of it. Not if she could help it at all.
‘I will go with you to see Alicia, then,’ Catalina said. ‘But now I have to return to Lydia.’
‘We still have things to talk about, Catalina,’ he said.
She nodded. She knew he was right. ‘I will meet you later, then.’
And she walked back towards the gathering to find Lydia. Soon enough she would have to leave Jamie and Castonbury, just as she had warned Lydia. At least this way she could help to make sure that, after all their troubles, they were safe again.
* * *
Catalina paced the length of the folly, her footsteps echoing on the stone floor. It was the only sound she could hear in the quiet, silent darkness of the night. Even the birds were quiet in the trees.
Beyond the marble pillars, over the black-green of the lawns, the house was quiet too. A few lights glowed in the windows here and there, tiny beacons in the night, but most of the inhabitants of the house were safely asleep.
As Catalina should be, she knew that. But she couldn’t sleep yet. She had to talk to Jamie again, alone, before she could think about what to do next. Before she could see Alicia Walters and know what steps she should take.
She looked down at Jamie’s letter, held tightly in her hand. So many thoughts and emotions had gone through her when she had read those words, as if the chaos of the past and the confusion of the present had collided and mixed into one inextricable blur. She had thought when she came to England she could leave Spain and all that happened there behind, but it was always with her.
The one thing she could see clearly, though, was that her feelings for Jamie had not changed. That overwhelming connection she had sensed the very first time she saw him had only strengthened and deepened, and she couldn’t quite imagine going away from Castonbury and never seeing him again. A part of her would always be here with him.
She looked down again at the letter. After all that had happened, could they be together? Was there any way at all? Or would the past always haunt them?
Catalina laughed at herself. She didn’t even really know what Jamie thought of her now, what he wanted from her. Now that he was at home with his family, perhaps he felt the folly of wartime romance. Perhaps this letter was only his final apology, his goodbye.
Suddenly a noise out in the garden interrupted her thoughts. For an instant she remembered the man she had glimpsed running through the garden at the party and her hand tightened on the letter, crumpling it.
Then she saw the tall, lean figure moving through the moonlight and relief rushed through her. Jamie—of course. She was meant to be meeting him here, after all.
‘Catalina,’ he said as he climbed the steps to the folly. He stopped by her side, not touching her but close. ‘You came.’
‘Of course,’ she said. She couldn’t stay away from him, even when she knew she should. She saw him glance at the letter in her hand.
‘You received it, then,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ Catalina answered quietly. She slowly reached out with her free hand and gently brushed her fingertips over his cheek, the scars there. He grew tense, yet he didn’t draw away. He swayed closer, as if against his will, and suddenly she ached for all he had suffered. All they had both suffered. ‘I am sorry you were hurt.’
Jamie shook his head. ‘I deserved it. I never should have been there in the first place, as you tried to tell me. I thought I was protecting my family, my country. But in the end that belief was false, an illusion. Like so much else.’
Like their marriage? Had that been an illusion too? Sometimes Catalina was sure it must have been; real life was harsh and cold, never that beautiful. But then sometimes, when he stood close to her as he was now, she thought it had been the most real thing ever.
‘War is a terrible thing,’ she said. ‘It takes everything we believe about ourselves and strips it all away. It’s hard to tell what is real and necessary and what isn’t. You did what you felt you must do, and you paid a price for it that no one should have to.’
‘But you have paid that price as well, Catalina,’ he said roughly. ‘And that is the damnable thing. That is what I can’t forgive myself for. When I thought you were dead, that I could never explain or make it up to you...’ His words broke off as he shook his head.
Catalina’s heart ached as if it would break all over again. She moved closer to Jamie and reached up to take his beautiful, damaged face in her hands. ‘I am alive! We are both alive, and we can hear each other now. That’s the important thing, Jamie, mi corazón. Tell me whatever you want now, and I will hear and understand.’
Rather than talk though, Jamie curled his hands around her bare arms and pressed her back against the cool marble column. He held her there gently, but Catalina knew she couldn’t break away from him. His body was so close to hers, she could feel every inch of his warm hardness against her, and she wanted to press even closer. To curl herself up in him and never be apart from him again.
It was the most bittersweet longing. She tilted back her head to stare at the stark lines of his austere face in the chalk-white light, as if she could memorise him.
‘Catalina, Catalina,’ he said, and she could hear an echoing longing in his voice. ‘I only ever wanted to make you smile, to make you happy, but instead I ruined everything. Yet I can’t stay away from you. Why do you make me so insane?’
Catalina shook her head, her thoughts spinning madly. He made her insane. He took her out of herself until she no longer knew what to do.
‘Jamie, I...’ she whispered. She stared up into his eyes, until with a groan his head swooped down over hers. His lips met the soft curve of her neck, and her knees grew weak at the touch of his kiss. His arms tightened around her, holding her up as she fell.
‘Jamie,’ she gasped, and his mouth came hard over hers to catch the sound.
His tongue slid over hers and she met him, passion for passion. She twined her arms around his neck and wound her fingers through his hair. He lifted her high against the column and she wrapped her legs around his waist as her skirts fell around them to bind them together.
It took only that, a touch, a kiss, a look, to ignite the fire between them. She wanted it, wanted him so much, and yet it frightened her too.
Jamie seemed to sense her confusion, for his kiss trailed from her mouth and he rested his head on her shoulder as he held her there. They were so, so close, but also so far.
‘Forgive me, Catalina,’ he said. ‘That is what I’ve wanted to say for all these years. Forgive me.’
‘I do forgive you,’ she answered. ‘You did what you felt you had to.’
‘Forgive—but not forget?’
She had no answer for that. She could only hold on to him for that moment and hope that was enough.
Chapter Fifteen
It was a lovely day, Catalina thought as she leaned back on the fine leather seats of Jamie’s curricle. The sun was shining in a pale blue sky and the breeze smelled of f
lowers and fresh earth. She had seen Lydia off on her picnic excursion and then walked out of the Castonbury gates and across the Park to meet Jamie, which gave her a chance to look at the land in all its glory. All its beautiful potential to be as grand as it once was.
It was a day she wished would never quite end. The sun on her face, Jamie by her side—it was perfect. And so was the forgiveness they had exchanged; the past was in the past. It had to be.
‘What are you smiling about, Catalina?’ Jamie asked. She glanced at him from under the brim of her bonnet to see that he smiled too.
The sight of it made her heart feel even lighter. He had always been such a serious man, ever since she first met him, but here at Castonbury he seemed to brood even more, as if so much hung over him. Yet his smile was so very beautiful. She wished she could see it every day.
‘I was just thinking what a fine day it is,’ she answered. ‘Castonbury is such a lovely place.’
Jamie glanced at the fields to either side of the lane, endless expanses of green that rolled away to the horizon. The chimneys of the house could just be seen in the distance, like sentinels over this perfect little world.
‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘It is a pretty place.’
‘You must be glad to be home.’
Jamie was quiet for a long moment. ‘I fear I had begun to forget what Castonbury looked like during my time in Spain. The details of it grew hazy in my mind, and I only remembered it as a sort of prison. A trap.’
‘A trap?’ Catalina said in surprise. ‘Your home?’
‘When I was younger, it never felt quite like my home. I grew up on tales of the great Montagues, of our ancestors who held this important place in English history and accomplished so much to the glory of our name. I knew the stories were meant to make me feel my place in this line of greatness, but it always seemed so remote from what I felt inside. Castonbury felt like a chain to bind me.’
‘And that was really why you went to Spain?’ Catalina said quietly, afraid to shatter this moment of intimacy between them. Of truth. Of what they had built last night in the folly.
Jamie nodded. ‘I had a wildness in me that had to find some way to escape. The army, fighting the enemy, it seemed like a way to do that.’
‘To find your own place in the world.’
‘Yes.’ He glanced at her and she saw the dark shadow in his grey eyes. The same shadow that had seemed to hang over her own life for so long. ‘I thought I could prove my own worth to myself there, away from my family.’
‘When I was growing up I also learned so many tales of what was expected of me, as a Spanish woman, as a Perez promised to marry a Moreno. Every moment of my life was regimented. I was told how to do everything. And I could see the years stretching before me, more of the same,’ Catalina said. ‘It made me want to scream, to beat my fists against it all until it let me free!’
‘Yes,’ Jamie said intensely. ‘That was how I felt when I was younger. I was sure Giles or Harry would make a much better heir than me. They never seemed to have this—this darkness inside of them.’
Catalina smiled at him. ‘I am sure they did not want the weight of those expectations any more than you did.’
Jamie laughed. ‘No, indeed. Giles says he never had a happier day than when he learned I was returning and he would not have to be the duke. He and Lily can make their own life for themselves.’
Catalina wondered what that would be like, to make her own choices. She had tried it when she left Seville to nurse, and it had just led her here. ‘My brother was also a man with all his family’s hopes pinned on him. My mother wept for days when he ran away to work with the liberal factions against the king.’
‘He was doing what he believed in, just as you did when you came to help our armies,’ Jamie said. ‘You were both very brave, credits to your family name.’
‘Were we? My parents would never have thought so,’ Catalina said quietly. ‘My brother saw his hopes for Spain crushed, and I was selfish when I left my home in Seville. But I have no regrets, and neither would my brother. Our souls would have withered if we had stayed.’ She laid her gloved hand gently over Jamie’s where he held the reins. ‘You have another chance here with your family, a chance to rebuild Castonbury as you think it should be. I could never have done that with my home. I could never have really belonged there.’
Jamie turned his hand to wrap his fingers around hers. ‘Do you not think you could ever make Castonbury your home as well?’
‘Castonbury?’ Catalina cried, shocked. ‘How could it be?’
‘Do you not like it?’
‘I...’ She turned her head to look out at those distant chimneys again. She could like Castonbury, probably far too much. She also cared for Jamie far too much to be one of those chains he spoke of. ‘I don’t see how anyone could not like it. It’s such a beautiful house.’
He shot her a crooked, rueful smile. ‘Then it’s merely the house’s heir you don’t like.’
‘Oh, Jamie,’ Catalina said with a laugh. ‘I think you know that dislike is the furthest thing I feel for you.’
‘Yet you will not do the sensible thing and be my wife again.’
Did he want her as his wife? It sounded suspiciously to her as if he wanted the matchmakers off his back, and being married to her would be a convenient way to do that. But eventually he would be sorry for that. ‘It would not be so very sensible to put your family to yet another shock, so soon after you returned from the dead. I don’t want to be another chain for you, Jamie.’
Jamie shook his head. ‘I am not that wild boy any longer, Catalina. I learned my lesson very well in Spain. This is my place—this is my task in life.’ He shot her a burning glance. ‘I don’t want to do it alone.’
‘All the better to think this over very carefully,’ Catalina said calmly, even as her heart ached. She wanted so much to be the one to help him, to stand with him. She truly still loved him, even more than she had in Spain. But she wanted him to love her too, not see her as a ‘sensible’ solution to his problem, one he would later regret.
The carriage rolled into town, and Catalina opened her parasol to shield her face from the sun and the glances of any passers-by. The streets were not crowded at that time of day, and they were soon drawing up at Alicia’s house on its quiet street.
Jamie climbed down from the high seat and came around to help Catalina, his hand lingering on hers. She waited as he tied up the horse, surreptitiously studying the empty pavement from under her parasol.
‘Do you think Webster could be watching us now?’ she whispered.
‘I hope so, the bastard,’ Jamie said firmly. ‘Alicia wrote to him that she was working on a new scheme concerning me and begged him to call on her and offer his assistance. She has not yet had a reply. He is probably hiding and watching, like the coward he is. Skulking around parties and assemblies.’
Catalina glanced up at the house, so serene behind its brick walls and shuttered windows. She hated the thought of a man like Webster watching it, plotting harm to the people inside. Even if it was Alicia Walters.
‘What of her child?’ Catalina asked as Jamie led her up the front steps and knocked at the door. ‘Is he safe here?’
‘I believe she has taken to leaving him with the neighbour, a kindly widow, at times,’ he said. ‘And I have been keeping watch.’
The door swung open and Alicia stood there. She looked older than Catalina remembered from Spain, her blue eyes red-rimmed and strained. Yet she still wore quiet, respectable clothes, her hair pinned back in a simple knot. Her eyes widened when she saw Catalina and she gave a quick curtsey.
‘Mrs Moreno,’ Alicia said. ‘I am so glad you came.’ She stepped aside to let them in. ‘I was afraid you might not, and I did so want to talk to you.’
‘It has been a long time since we last saw each other,’ Catalina answered.
‘Indeed. And so much has happened.’ Alicia led them into a small sitting room where a tea tray waited. Children�
��s toys were stacked neatly by the wall, and a work box sat open on a table. ‘When I learned you were alive, well—I was very glad to know it. You were very kind to me in Spain. You and Lord Hatherton both.’
And yet she had repaid him with deceptions. Catalina did not say it aloud, but Alicia blushed as if she guessed her thoughts.
Catalina suddenly felt terrible for judging her so hastily. Was she herself not deceiving Jamie’s family? Had she not felt desperation and grief too? She sat down and accepted a cup of tea from Alicia.
‘We have both had many trials in the past years,’ Catalina said softly.
‘But I fear mine have been of my own making,’ Alicia answered.
‘Have you heard from Webster?’ Jamie asked.
Alicia shook her head. ‘But I did think I saw him again last night, across the street. He does not trust me, I think, yet he is greedy enough to want a part in any new scheme. I am sure he will be quite desperate by now and will soon make his move.’
‘We will be ready for him,’ Jamie said. ‘Mr Everett still asks about you, Miss Walters. He wants to help in any way he can.’
Mr Everett? The Castonbury estate manager? Catalina watched, intrigued, as Alicia’s blush deepened.
‘No, I won’t have him in any trouble because of me,’ Alicia said. ‘But I am anxious to hear any other plan you might have, Lord Hatherton.’
They talked a little longer about possible ways to track down Webster, with Alicia casting shy glances Catalina’s way, before the shadows of the day grew darker and Catalina and Jamie had to turn back towards Castonbury. They drove down the road for a while in silence, turning over everything they had heard from Alicia, until Jamie drew in the horse.
‘Let us walk for a while,’ he said. ‘It’s such a fine day.’
‘What a good idea,’ Catalina answered. It was a fine day, one of those rare perfect summer days that felt like they would last for ever but were then gone in an instant. Just like her time with Jamie.
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