Beguiling the Earl

by Suzanna Medeiros

  Brantford was silent for several moments, and Kerrick wondered if he was going to reveal anything more. He was, after all, now out of the whole business of ferreting out information for the Home Office.

  “I think there’s more to this than what we know so far,” Brantford finally said. “We’re trying to get more information from Worthington, but he refuses to name an accomplice. Says he was working alone.”

  “I suspect he’s trying to protect his wife and daughter.”

  Brantford nodded, the motion almost absentminded, before asking, “What do you plan to do about Miss Hardwick?”

  What, indeed. “I’m bound by my word and I won’t go back on it. They’ll need my protection now more than ever.”

  Brantford nodded again and was about to add something when the butler interrupted with a discreet rap on the doorframe.

  “Excuse me, my lord, but there is a young woman here to see you.”

  His foolish heart leapt, thinking perhaps it was Catherine, but when the butler continued he learned that Rose was waiting in the drawing room with her maid. His heart sank. Of course it wasn’t Catherine. She probably never wanted to see him again, a sentiment for which he couldn’t fault her.

  He turned to Brantford, but before the Earl could excuse himself, Rose swept past the butler and entered the room.

  “Miss Hardwick,” Kerrick said, rising from his chair. Brantford rose as well. “You shouldn’t be here. I was planning to visit you and your mother this afternoon.”

  Rose laughed, the sound bitter. “Are you worried about my reputation? Well, it is far too late for such concern. My father’s actions have already ruined me.”

  “We will weather this storm together,” he said, attempting to impart a confidence he was far from feeling.

  “I should leave the two of you to speak,” Brantford said.

  But before he could do so, Rose turned to face him.

  “You needn’t worry that I will sully your reputation with my presence. What I have to say to Lord Kerrick will be brief, and there is no reason why you cannot hear it.”

  There was an edge to her tone, a hint of anger that surprised Kerrick. What surprised him more, however, was the hint of emotion on his friend’s face. For a brief moment it almost appeared as though he wanted to comfort Rose, but then the telltale sign was gone almost before it had appeared, hidden behind Brantford’s normal mask of indifference. But that fleeting emotion served to underscore Kerrick’s suspicion that Brantford was not immune to Rose Hardwick’s charms.

  Rose’s bravado was clearly an attempt on her part to hide her hurt. Thinking only to soothe her, he said, “I will call on you later this afternoon. Your mother should be included in our plans.”

  Rose tried to smile, but it turned out more a grimace. “That is precisely why I am here to speak to you. I wish to break our engagement.”

  Kerrick’s heart gave a not-unexpected leap of joy, but he tamped down on the emotion. He couldn’t leave Rose unprotected during this difficult time. Selfishly, he wanted nothing more than to embrace her offer before she changed her mind, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did. Perversely, he also knew Catherine would never again respect him if he did. She was lost to him either way.

  He closed the distance between them and took her hand between both of his and gave it a slight squeeze. “You are going through a difficult time right now and mustn’t do anything you will come to regret.”

  “But you and Catherine—”

  “Can never be,” he said, cutting off that train of thought before she could continue.

  The smile she gave him this time was genuine. “You are a good man, but you are not the man for me.”

  “Rose—”

  “No.” She pulled her hand from his and took a step back. “My mind is made up. I have already sent word to a few friends that I have broken our engagement. They shouldn’t have heard about Father yet, so will have no reason to return my notes unopened.”

  “Don’t do this,” he said. “I can offer you protection, especially now when you and your mother most need it.”

  She shook her head, her chestnut curls dancing with the vigorous movement. “My father is not a traitor.”

  “He confessed,” Brantford said.

  Rose turned to face him. “He would never betray his country, and I mean to prove it. So you see”—she turned back to Kerrick—“there is no reason for your sacrifice. Father will be proven innocent and all will be as it should. Including you and Catherine.”

  He couldn’t find the words to respond. Theirs would hardly be the first broken engagement the ton had seen, though it would be one of the shortest.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just tell me you’ll make Catherine happy. She deserves it.”

  Brantford interrupted, picking up on that which he’d been too distracted to pay attention to. “If you have proof of your father’s innocence, I can see that it reaches those who would be able to help him.”

  Rose’s lips pressed briefly into a tight line before she answered him. “I thought you were anxious to depart. Are you certain you’re not lowering yourself to address me directly?”

  Kerrick’s eyebrows rose at the bitter retort, but he remained silent.

  “If you don’t desire my assistance, Miss Hardwick, that is entirely up to you. I wish you luck in exonerating your father on your own.”

  They gazed at each other for several long moments before Rose replied. “We’re not receiving callers—not that anyone will want to associate with us once it becomes known that my father has confessed to treason—but if you call tomorrow afternoon I’ll make sure you’re not turned away. Mama is most distressed, and I have already been away from her too long today.”

  Brantford nodded in reply, and without another word Rose turned and departed.

  “I’m out of it,” Kerrick said before Brantford could speak.

  “Of course,” the other man said. “You can hardly be seen skulking about Worthington’s home now that everyone will be learning of your broken engagement. Unless, of course, you hope to make her change her mind.”

  “I think you already know my opinion on that course of action. Rose Hardwick is all yours.”

  Brantford raised a brow in answer and Kerrick laughed. Suddenly the world seemed brighter, and he couldn’t resist needling his friend about the beautiful young woman who didn’t appear to be intimidated by the Unaffected Earl. “What was it you said when you first approached me about this matter? It would hardly be a hardship to court her.”

  “Marriage is not for me, my friend. Not now and perhaps not ever.” Brantford’s face was a blank mask, but Kerrick could now detect a hint of something behind it. Loneliness?

  “Never say never, old chap.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  She was dying inside, but Catherine was determined to go through the motions of living. After seeing Rose and Kerrick together, she allowed herself one day locked away in her bedroom, wallowing in her misery and railing against the fates.

  When the sun rose on the second day, instead of pulling the blankets over her head and borrowing deeper under them, which was what she wanted most to do, she cast them aside and rose. A quick glance at the mirror on her dressing table revealed the signs that she’d cried herself to sleep the previous night, which were etched clearly on her face. Swollen eyelids, a nose that was still slightly red, and a complexion that was heightened with a pink tinge.

  Turning her back on the reflection, she moved to the washstand, poured cold water from the pitcher into the bowl, and splashed her face, hoping to wash away the cursed proof of her heartache. The cold water wasn’t a miracle cure, but it would help. Only time would take care of the rest of the outward signs. The inward signs would linger for some time, but she refused to give in to indulging that misery. If she’d learned one thing growing up in a family that could afford nothing beyond the bare necessities, it was that life always marched onward. Nothing was ever gain
ed by allowing oneself to dwell on the impossible.

  She wished she could say she didn’t have regrets about her relationship with Kerrick, but the truth was that she did. She wished now that she had never acted so impetuously and gone to his town house that first time they’d made love. She would still have been heartbroken, but she couldn’t help but think the pain she’d have experienced would be nothing to the soul-deep despair threatening to crush her now.

  And the worst of it was that she couldn’t be angry with Kerrick. He’d had no plans to begin a relationship with her while he was engaged in the inquiry that forced him into pretending to court Rose Hardwick. It had been her own foolishness that had led her to pursue an intimate relationship with him. Catherine could understand now why Louisa had wanted her to be careful in her dealings with him. Her sister clearly knew that life did not always hand out happy endings. The fact that she and Nicholas had achieved that seemingly impossible state did not blind Louisa to the pitfalls that lay out in the world, ready to ensnare young fools like herself.

  The fact that Kerrick had offered to marry Rose after they were discovered alone together, despite the fact that he did not feel any romantic attachment to her, spoke volumes about his nature. And it was one of the main reasons she loved him still. She’d had her doubts about his feelings for Louisa, but now, with a clarity that could only be gained by hindsight, knew that he hadn’t seen her as merely a substitute for her sister.

  Doing her best to shake off her melancholy thoughts, Catherine rang for her maid. She could tell that Lily was surprised to see her up and out of bed. The awareness that the servants knew what had happened, that they’d been gossiping about her belowstairs, made her cringe. It had been less than a year since Louisa had married and they’d moved to Overlea Manor, and she still wasn’t used to having servants. It was more difficult than she would have imagined to know that all their lives were no doubt being examined and dissected by others.

  She wouldn’t give them anything more to gossip about and proceeded to dress as though it were any other morning, then headed downstairs.

  Breakfast, however, proved to be more awkward than she’d anticipated. She had grown used to having breakfast alone in her room, but Louisa and Nicholas must have decided to join her when they learned she hadn’t asked for her customary breakfast tray in her room.

  Louisa took very small bites from a piece of toast, the effort appearing to cost her a great deal. Catherine expected it was sheer force of will alone that kept her sister from jumping up from the table and emptying the contents of her stomach. She and Nicholas alternated between watching her carefully and turning their attention back to their plates.

  Catherine ate quickly, anxious to be away from the tense environment. She’d just finished her tea when Nicholas slammed his fork down on the table. She jumped in surprise but didn’t miss the look that Louisa aimed at her husband.

  “I can’t remain silent,” he told his wife before turning to face Catherine. “Kerrick is like a brother to me, but if he has laid even a finger on you, I will call him out.”

  “No, you won’t,” Louisa said.

  His expression was one of incredulous disbelief. “How can you say that? We all knew he was courting Rose Hardwick, yet he did nothing to dissuade Catherine from pinning her hopes on him.”

  “You know what he does. There may have been reasons—”

  “His reasons can go to the devil, and him right along with them.”

  Catherine felt her carefully constructed façade begin to crack. She couldn’t do this right now. Her hold on her sanity was tenuous at best. She stood and both of them turned their attention back to her. They’d been so focused on their own argument it was almost as though they’d forgotten she was even in the room.

  “Nothing happened between us. Nothing that wasn’t of my own imagination.”

  Nicholas scowled. “Don’t feel that you have to lie to protect him.”

  She wanted to say more, but couldn’t. Emotion clogged her throat and she knew that one more syllable from her, or one more look of sympathy from her sister, would see her dissolving in a puddle of tears. Before that could happen, she turned and fled from the room, only to be brought up short by the flurry of activity in the front hall.

  Louisa had followed her from the breakfast room and she stopped beside her, waiting while the butler spoke to the two burly men in the doorway.

  “My lady,” he said to Louisa when he noticed the two of them standing there. He glanced past them and Catherine knew that Nicholas had joined them. “My lord, I was just informing these gentlemen that deliveries are to be made at the kitchen door.

  The men seemed to take affront at his statement. “We’re not deliverymen,” one of them said, stepping farther into the hallway. The butler tried to stop him, but he was no match for the stout fellow. “We work for Kew Gardens and are here as a favor to the Earl of Kerrick.”

  Just the mention of his name caused a quick stab of pain to go through her. Louisa turned to her for clarification, but Catherine could only shake her head in bewilderment. “I don’t know what it could be. He said nothing to me.”

  Louisa turned to her husband. “Nicholas?”

  His jaw tightened and his hands had clenched into fists. “He certainly wouldn’t be sending me anything from Kew Gardens.”

  Catherine closed her eyes, a horrible presentiment settling over her. They’d never spoken of it, but somehow she knew what the men were there to deliver.

  “The tree is potted and we can bring it ’round to the back of the house if you have a garden. But there are very specific instructions for its care. I can’t just leave it here until I know it will be properly looked after. It is quite valuable…”

  Catherine wasn’t aware she’d started moving until she’d pushed past the two startled men and stepped out onto the front steps of the town house. There, on the back of a large wagon drawn by two horses, stood a moderately sized orange tree.

  Memories she’d been trying so hard to keep at bay swept over her then. She could still recall every detail of that first outing at Kew Gardens with the Duke and Duchess of Clarington when Kerrick had first arrived in London. How he’d arranged to have the head gardener himself escort them for most of their tour. And, of course, there had been their trip to the orangery. It was there that something had changed between them, and Kerrick had finally started to see her as a woman and not just Louisa’s younger sister. She’d thought him bored beyond reason during most of their visit, yet he’d been patient. And clearly he’d taken note of her interest in the orange trees.

  She wouldn’t be able to keep it once summer ended. Mr. Clifton had explained how the trees were not receiving enough light at the orangery and were suffering during the winter months, and she didn’t think they’d fare any better at the conservatory attached to Overlea Manor. It seemed that, like Kerrick himself, she wouldn’t be able to keep this gift.

  Somehow she turned and faced the group of people who were watching her in silence and managed to keep her voice even when she spoke. “I met with Mr. Clifton and remember what he told me about their care.”

  She wanted to say more but found she could no longer hold back the crush of emotions threatening to engulf her. She didn’t need to ask to be excused. The group split in two and in silence she took the path they’d opened up. She heard Louisa speaking to the men, telling them to bring the orange tree to the back garden through the mews, but her destination was the music room toward the rear of the house. If she returned to her bedroom now, she wouldn’t be able to hold back her tears.

  She’d almost made it when a voice stopped her cold.

  “I don’t care what you plan to do to me, but I must speak to Catherine.”

  Kerrick.

  She heard footsteps. Fear gripped her as she stood frozen to the spot, unsure whether she should flee the remaining few steps to the music room or turn around. Somehow she knew he wouldn’t be deterred by her brother-in-law who, despite his assertions t
o the contrary, would never harm one of his closest friends.

  The footsteps stopped and a short silence followed before he finally spoke. “Catherine.”

  Gathering her courage, she turned to face him. When she did, she realized she’d been hoping to see some indication that he felt even a fraction of the anguish she didn’t think would ever leave her. But instead he seemed remarkably calm. In fact, he didn’t appear sad at all. For the first time since all her hopes had been dashed, the stirrings of anger ignited within.

  “I believe we’ve already said all there is to say. If you came to apologize, you needn’t have wasted your time.” She darted a quick look at Louisa and Nicholas, aware that they were listening to every word she spoke with keen interest. While she was hurt, and the temptation to lash out at him in anger was growing with swiftness, she’d promised Kerrick she wouldn’t reveal just how far their relationship had developed. It was a promise she meant to keep and so she chose her next words with care. “I understand that you had little choice in how things played out. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  She started this time for the stairway. The music room wasn’t far enough away from everyone and the tears pricking the back of her eyes wouldn’t be denied for much longer.

  “Catherine, please. I must speak to you.”

  She heard him begin to follow and fought against the almost overwhelming urge to run.

  “Let go of me, Nicholas, or you’ll lose your hand,” she heard him say.

  “Haven’t you already hurt her enough?”

  “I’m not leaving until we’ve spoken,” he called after her. “I’ll haunt your doorway if I have to. Eventually you will speak to me.”

  She halted and brushed angrily at a tear that had escaped. She couldn’t speak to him and keep a hold of the tenuous grip she currently had on her dignity. But it appeared there would be no way out of the impending confrontation. She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep, shaky breath, and turned to face him.