Chapter Fourteen
Catherine knew Kerrick wasn’t fond of opera, but still she looked for him that evening. When she didn’t see him before the curtain rose, she was on tenterhooks during the performance, hoping that he would drop by their box during the intermission. Or perhaps waylay them after the opera was over.
When he failed to show, she began to second-guess herself. Kerrick had assured her that he would find a way to speak to her if she sent him a note with their code word. But it was impossible not to worry when she wondered if Lord Worthington was, even at that moment, pressing Kerrick to declare his intentions to Rose. If Kerrick was forced to do so for the sake of his investigation and if Rose was pressured by her parents to accept… then it was all over. She knew Kerrick enough to know he had a deeply ingrained sense of honor. Even if society did not frown heavily on a gentleman for behaving in such a selfish manner, she knew he would never humiliate Rose by breaking off an engagement.
By the time they returned to the town house, her concern had grown into a huge ball of despair that weighed heavily on her heart. She wasn’t successful in hiding her feelings. But when Nicholas asked her what was the matter, she managed a small smile and told him that her head was aching.
She made her way up to her bedroom and found her maid approaching from the other end of the hallway.
“You don’t look well, Miss Evans,” Lily said as they entered the bedroom together.
“It’s just a touch of the headache. I’m sure I’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.”
Lily took down her hair with quick, efficient motions. “Would you like me to bring you something before you turn in?”
“That won’t be necessary,” she said, standing so her maid could undo the buttons at the back of her gown.
She barely managed to hold back a small squeak of surprise when she caught a quick movement behind the dressing screen in the corner of her room. Her heart gave a small leap and she kept her eyes trained in that direction as Lily helped her out of her dress and the constraining corset she wore beneath. When her maid moved to the bed to fetch her nightgown, her back to the screen, Kerrick popped his head out from behind it. He raised a finger to his lips to signal that she should remain silent and gave her a quick wink before ducking back behind the screen. Catherine didn’t realize she’d been grinning until her maid commented on it.
“You seem to be in a better mood already.”
Catherine nodded and did her best to school her expression. “It is such a relief to be able to take a deep breath again,” she said before ushering Lily to the door.
“But your nightgown…”
“I am so tired I think I’ll just sleep in my chemise.”
When Lily left, Catherine locked the door behind her and offered up a quick thank-you that several rooms stood between her bedroom and the master bedroom. When she turned to face the screen, Kerrick had already moved into the open.
Her voice was barely above a whisper when she asked, “How did you get in here?” She shook her head, amazed that he would risk being caught sneaking into her bedroom and, if truth be told, more than a little delighted at his audacity.
“I’ve been a guest here more than once over the years. I know this house almost as well as I do my own.”
“How did you know which room was mine?”
His gaze swept over her, dark and intent, and she became aware that the material of her chemise was so fine as to be almost transparent. “It wasn’t difficult… it smells just like you.”
Her heart melted and for a moment she forgot the real reason for his visit. His next words were like a splash of cold water, dousing her romanticism.
“You sent me a note with our code word.”
“My maid is nervous about our communication—it was necessary to make her believe our correspondence was about something innocent.” She had to force her gaze away and try to regain her composure before she could continue. “Have you seen Lord Worthington today?”
He shook his head. “After receiving your note, I thought it wise to hear what you had to say first.”
Relief washed over her. It wasn’t too late. Kerrick hadn’t been pressured yet into making an offer of marriage.
“Rose visited me this morning and was quite distraught. Apparently her father is under the impression that I am using her to get closer to you and that you aren’t serious about her. He plans to demand that you make your intentions toward Rose public as soon as possible.”
Kerrick swore softly and lowered himself onto the edge of her bed. When he dropped his head into his hands, she sat next to him.
“I thought I should warn you.”
He nodded but remained silent for several long moments.
“What are you going to do?” Catherine asked.
Kerrick lifted his head and turned to look at her. “I’m going to try to put him off since I have no intention of becoming formally betrothed to Rose. She seems lovely, but I draw the line at marrying someone for the sake of this inquiry. I couldn’t, in good conscience, use her in such a manner and then cast her off when I was done.”
“Rose cares deeply for someone else.”
“I’m not surprised.”
They both knew that Rose was intent on arranging a match between Kerrick and Catherine, but there was something in his simple statement that had her convinced Kerrick knew something she didn’t.
“She won’t tell me who, but I have a feeling you know.”
“I have my suspicions, but that’s all they are. And no, I won’t tell you who it is.” He gave a rueful shake of his head when she blew out a breath of frustration.
“Rose said that she thought her father was scared, but she couldn’t say why.” She hesitated briefly before asking the question she didn’t really want to know the answer to. “Do you think it’s possible he’s guilty of whatever crime he’s suspected of doing?”
Kerrick seemed to weigh his words carefully. “It’s beginning to look that way. More than that, I cannot say.” He took hold of one of her hands and gripped it tightly. “After what you’ve told me, I’m going to have to be more careful to separate myself from you. That means I won’t be accepting any further invitations to dine here, and I will do what I can to make sure we aren’t seen together, even in public.”
His words brought on an almost unbearable sadness. She tugged her hand from his and stood. “Is that why you came here tonight?” she asked, her heart constricting. “To tell me we can’t see one another at all? That we can’t even speak if our paths should cross in public?”
He closed the space between them and drew her into his arms. “No, I’m here because I can’t stand the very thought of staying away from you.”
His mouth descended on hers, but unlike his other kisses, which had held a hint of desperation, this one was slow, thorough, and utterly devastating. When he drew back slightly, she followed him, unwilling to end the kiss so quickly.
Half afraid that he was about to take his leave, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him. “I hate being separated from you,” she whispered as he rained kisses down the side of her neck.
He lifted his head and stared down at her, his expression solemn. “We can’t go on like this… I can’t go on like this. One more week. Then, even if I haven’t discovered any concrete proof one way or the other, I’m done.”
His fervent words were punctuated by a sharp tug on her chemise. The delicate lawn fabric tore slightly and he stripped it away from her body.
Catherine’s heart threatened to explode out of her chest as she reached to undo the buttons of his waistcoat. He stilled her action with a hand over hers.
“Not yet. My patience is almost at an end and I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to make this last once I feel your skin against mine.”
“What if I don’t want to wait?”
His jaw clenched, but instead of replying, he swung her into his arms and walked the few steps to the bed. Her naked body was held against his fu
lly clothed one. She should have been embarrassed, but instead the difference in their states of undress, the way her skin slid against the fine wool of his coat and the silk of his waistcoat, heightened her awareness of the decadence of their actions.
He lowered her onto the bed and followed her down, shifting onto his side next to her. He ran a hand down her length, as though memorizing her shape, and she shivered.
“Have I ever mentioned that your perfume drives me insane? Exotic, like the flowers you enjoy so much, and not at all what one would expect from looking at you.” He underscored his words by burying his face in the side of her neck and licking her there.
“I fear I am not at all like other demure maidens my age.”
“Thank God for that,” he said, taking her mouth again.
There was very little talking after that as he used his hands and mouth to worship her body. Finally, when she was ready to scream in frustration from the release he seemed determined to withhold from her, he thrust two fingers into her and used his thumb to stroke that place where all sensation seemed to center. He gazed down at her intently as he brought her to the very pinnacle, capturing her mouth just in time to swallow her cries of completion.
She watched in silence, floating between languor and anticipation of what was to come next, as Kerrick stood and began to undress. With each item of clothing he removed, her heart rate began to increase again. When he was down to his trousers, she could no longer remain still. She rose and placed her hand over the hard ridge of his arousal.
His arms fell to his side and he watched her intently as she undid the buttons of his fall. When the material fell open, she reached in and wrapped her hand around him. He groaned and began to lower his head to take her mouth again, but she halted him by placing her other hand against his lips.
“It is now my turn, I believe,” she said, loving the way his breath hitched when she placed her mouth over his chest.
She licked his flat nipple and his hard length leapt in her hand, telling her how much he liked it when she did that. So she licked him again as she stroked him.
“If you keep doing that, the evening will be coming to an end very quickly.”
The strain in his voice underscored his words, but she didn’t care. She loved being able to explore him the way he had explored her a few minutes before. Ignoring him, she dropped kisses down his abdomen. She released him to pull down his trousers. She remembered something she had overheard once and hesitated a moment before deciding that her desire to please him outweighed her shyness.
She lowered herself onto the edge of the bed and met his gaze. He was still standing, his erection level with her chin. She almost laughed at the expression on his face—a mixture of disbelief and hope. She took hold of him and ran her lips along his length before taking him into her mouth.
He swore but didn’t move as she twirled her tongue against him. Remembering how he liked to have her move her hand along his length, she mimicked the action with her mouth, taking him deeper.
He shuddered, his hands tightening in her hair briefly before pulling her mouth away from him.
“Christ, Catherine, where in heaven’s name did you learn to do that?”
She licked her lips and noticed the way his eyes followed the action. “I overheard two maids talking about it. I was scandalized at the time, but now I want nothing more than to take you into my mouth again and give you pleasure.”
He closed his eyes briefly as though he were in pain before tumbling them both onto the bed. She thought he was going to roll her under him, but instead he rolled onto his back and lifted her over him. He spread her thighs so they rested on each side of his hips.
“That time will come, but it won’t be tonight. Right now I need to be inside you.”
He pressed her downward so that her intimate flesh pressed against the length of him. Now it was her turn to close her eyes as desire, hot and swift, swept through her.
“Ride me, Catherine,” he said, shifting her so that his arousal was against her entrance. “Show me how much you want me.”
She was powerless to do otherwise and allowed him to drag her down over him. He filled her to bursting and she had to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out with pleasure.
When she hesitated a moment, uncertain what to do next, his grip tightened on her hips.
“Like this,” he said, raising her until only the tip of him was inside her, then slamming her down over him again.
She took over, shifting slightly so that each stroke brushed up against that bundle of nerves at the top of her slit. Kerrick released her hips and covered her breasts with his hands. When he pinched her nipples, she felt heat streak down to her core. She didn’t resist when he pressed one hand against her back and brought her down so he could take one rosy-tipped peak into his mouth.
It was too much. The feel of his mouth drawing on her while he continued to play with her other breast. She lowered herself onto him once, twice more, then shattered. He released her then to grip her hips, and she was grateful because she no longer had the strength to continue. Instead, he held her while he stroked into her. Their eyes met and, remembering what had happened the last time they had made love, she steeled herself for that moment when he would lift her away from him. But instead, he brought her back down against him and closed his eyes while he found his release within her body.
She collapsed against his chest, ridiculously happy that he hadn’t spent outside her body. That, more than any words he could have uttered, told her that he’d meant what he’d said. He planned to end his investigation and commit to her. Finally.
ooOoo
He was a portrait of calm as he stood on the edge of the ballroom’s dance floor, but inside, every nerve stood on edge, his very skin feeling too tight. It had taken an almost inhuman effort to tear himself away from Catherine last night, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong. He was being pressed upon from all sides. Brantford had definite expectations of him, expectations that played right into Worthington’s hands. Rose also had expectations that he’d give up his courtship and save her from disappointing her father when she rejected him.
The only person who wasn’t making demands of him was Catherine, and perversely, that fact annoyed him. He’d asked her to be patient while he completed this one last obligation to the Home Office, and it bothered him more than a little that she was doing just that. As his frustration with his fruitless and seemingly endless line of inquiry increased, so did his impatience with Catherine. It wasn’t logical, but apparently those feelings wouldn’t be denied. He wanted her to make demands of him, to push him into ending this ridiculous task so he could finally commit to her. But with each day that passed, it appeared as though Worthington was, indeed, guilty of treason and now Kerrick had no choice but to continue.
At least he’d finally received some news from the man he had following Worthington, news that indicated the Earl of Standish was somehow involved. He’d learned earlier that day that Worthington had met with Standish. The two had argued, but his man hadn’t been able to get close enough to overhear them. He didn’t understand why Standish would engage in treasonous activity any more than Worthington, but his instincts told him that their meeting was significant, and his instincts were rarely wrong.
That information had spurred him to sneak into Worthington’s home earlier that evening after the family had left for tonight’s ball. He’d searched Worthington’s study thoroughly, hoping to find something, anything, that would allow him to put this entire matter behind him. He’d already informed Brantford about what he’d learned and warned him about his impending confrontation with Worthington. He’d also told him that he had no intention of actually becoming engaged to the Worthingtons’ daughter. Brantford had taken it well, which strengthened Kerrick’s suspicion that the man felt something for Rose Hardwick. Of course, Brantford would never act on that attraction.
He’d caught a glimpse of Catherine when he
’d finally arrived, late, for the ball and had been avoiding her ever since. He’d spoken to Overlea and Louisa—to ignore them, as well, would rouse too many suspicions—but only when Catherine was dancing with someone else. He scanned the dancing couples and told himself he was looking for Rose.
There was a discreet cough to his left and he turned to find a young footman standing very close.
“My lord,” he started, his voice low, “I’ve been told that your presence is requested in the library.”
He raised a brow in surprise. “Who made the request?”
The young man shook his head. “I don’t know. I received the instructions via a note from another member of the staff.”
He closed his eyes briefly in exasperation, the vision of Worthington cornering him and making his demands clear in his mind. It looked like he would no longer be able to put off this confrontation.
But when he turned to follow the footman from the ballroom, he spied Worthington deep in conversation with someone else. He didn’t even glance in Kerrick’s direction, and with every step, Kerrick began to think that perhaps Catherine had sent the note. No one else would summon him in such a stealthy manner. Brantford certainly wouldn’t—he’d approach him directly. But he hadn’t seen Catherine in the past quarter hour at least.
Foolishly, anticipation began to sizzle through his veins. Meeting in such a public place was the height of insanity, especially given the fact that rumors about the two of them were already beginning to spread. But he couldn’t dredge up any anger. This was what he’d wanted, after all. For Catherine to finally start making some demands of him.
He reached the open doorway where another footman nodded discreetly, indicating the direction he should go. He wondered briefly if the entire staff knew about this meeting and found he didn’t care. He’d pointed Brantford in Standish’s direction and couldn’t wait to put the entire matter behind him. He hadn’t found concrete proof of Worthington’s guilt, but he’d learned enough to know the man definitely had secrets, and Kerrick knew in his bones that Standish was involved. As far as he was concerned, someone else could take over the investigation now and delve into Standish’s dealings.
Beguiling the Earl Page 15