by Sunny Brooks
“Lord Catesby,” Mrs. Harrington stammered, stepping back from Lord Rapson. “Is Mr. Jefferson still here?”
He frowned, finding himself growing angry with her lack of consideration for what he had just stumbled upon. It was as if he did not really know the lady before him. Upon retrospect, he began to question what he really knew of her. He had thought her sweet and kind, gentle and respectable, and yet here she was with her arms around Lord Rapson’s neck!”
“I think you need to explain yourself, Mrs. Harrington,” he grated, coming a little further into the room and closing the door with a little too much force, making Mrs. Harrington jump. “Whatever are you doing here with Lord Rapson? I did think that something strange was between the two of you, but I never once considered that it could be…..this.” He emphasized the last word, arching an eyebrow as he regarded her, seeing her flush a deep red.
“Now, see here,” Lord Rapson said, firmly, stepping forward. “There’s more to this than you understand, Lord Catesby. Don’t suggest something foolish.”
“Foolish?” Francis exclaimed, waving a hand at Mrs. Harrington, who was now standing a little further away from Lord Rapson. “Do you have any idea what has just passed between myself and the lady? I have told my housekeeper, my housekeeper, if you can imagine, that I am half in love with her and that I cannot remove her from my thoughts. I have begged her forgiveness for kissing her and have asked her to remain within this house in her position here, promising not to give in to any of my own desires ever again. And then, some minutes after baring my soul, I walk in to see her standing with you!”
A dark flush burned in his cheeks, his expression growing angry. “Evidently, Mrs. Harrington is not the lady I thought her to be! If you wish, Lord Rapson, I suggest you take Mrs. Harrington with you when you leave. I am quite sure she will make a warm companion.”
Lord Rapson took a step forward, his face filled with rage – only for Mrs. Harrington to step forward and tug at his arm, begging him not to harm Lord Catesby. Francis’ lip curled.
“I do not require your assistance, Mrs. Harrington. In fact, I do not require you at all. Go and collect your things. You are dismissed.”
Much to his surprise, Mrs. Harrington did not look either astonished or regretful, as he thought she might. Instead, she looked at him calmly, her hand still on Lord Rapson’s arm.
“My dear Lord Catesby,” she said, in a clear voice. “You must excuse my brother. He is most protective.”
Francis’s heart stopped dead. His smirk fell from his lips, replaced with an open-mouthed gape. His eyebrows practically vanished into his hair as he saw Lord Rapson give him a small, apologetic smile. This lady, the lady he had thought of as his housekeeper, the one he had been battling to forget, battling to ignore, was not a servant after all. In fact, she was the daughter of a nobleman and the sister of a viscount!
It was some moments before he could speak and even then, his voice was thin and wispy, his whole body feeling as though it had been filled with ice.
“But – but why?” he asked, hoarsely. “I do not understand.”
Mrs. Harrington – or whatever her true name was – shot him an apologetic look. “I had no other choice, Lord Catesby. Your mother was so willing to help that I could not –”
“My mother?” Francis repeated, interrupting her. “Do you mean to say that my mother has been aware of this situation for….” He trailed off, recalling just how interested his mother had become in his life of late. “I see,” he muttered, feeling as though he were adrift at sea with no way of getting to dry land. “She has been involved in this matter, whatever it be, since the beginning.”
“Indeed,” Lord Rapson agreed, quietly. “I do apologize, old boy, but I couldn’t tell you the truth, for my sister’s sake. It was imperative that she remained hidden.”
A dull ache began to form between Francis’ brows. “Why is that?” he asked, glancing from one to the other. “Is this something to do with Mr. Jefferson?”
“Our cousin,” they both said together, making Francis all the more astonished.
“Your cousin who came to call to tell me that he has been eagerly searching for you, Lord Rapson, to tell you of some terrible news,” he said, slowly. “Am I to understand that this supposed news is nothing of importance?”
Lord Rapson shook his head. “I think it nothing but a ruse, Lord Catesby,” he replied, with a small shrug. “Should we, perhaps, seat ourselves around the table? There is a good deal to explain, and I believe your mother will be joining us shortly.” He cleared his throat, glancing away from Francis for a moment, evidence of his embarrassment. “I do apologize, Lord Catesby, but I sent a note and asked her to join us.”
Mrs. Harrington smiled tightly. “We could not be sure of your reaction to this news, Lord Catesby. We thought it best she be present also.”
Francis felt as if he had woken up in a dream and was able to walk about in it. Nothing seemed to make sense. Mrs. Harrington was not, in fact, a housekeeper of the lower classes, but was a lady of quality. Lord Rapson had not simply come here for a brief stay, but evidently had come to ensure the safety of his sister, for whatever reason. And his mother, the dowager, had apparently facilitated all that was going on without saying a word to him about it.
Why had he not been informed? What possible reason could there be for a young lady of the ton to hide in another gentleman’s estate? Anything might have occurred that could have brought Mrs. Harrington harm, and he would not have known how to help her.
“May I ask,” he said, as he sat down in a chair by the dining table. “What is your real name, Mrs. Harrington?” He looked at her seated across from him, seeing her gentle features and feeling his heart fill with confusion and doubt. Was what he felt for her finally able to come to some sort of conclusion? Was he now able to allow himself such a depth of feeling without chastising himself completely? It should have brought him a sense of happiness, but he felt nothing but bewilderment.
Letting out a small sigh, Mrs. Harrington settled back into her chair, folded her hands in her lap and smiled at him. “I am Miss Rebecca Patterson, my lord. Daughter to the late Viscount Rapson.”
He inclined his head almost without thinking. “I am glad to finally make your true acquaintance, my lady.”
She flushed a deep, rich red. “I cannot tell if you are teasing me or if you are genuine, my lord, but for my part, I will say that I did not enjoy deceiving you. There was, however, no other way.”
Clearing his throat, he took in her sad smile, her burning cheeks and the flash of hope in her eyes. She was praying that he would accept her, he realized, just as she was. Did she not understand that such a sudden change in her circumstances meant that he did not have to continue preventing himself from allowing his heart to fill with her, that he was free of the desperate longing to rid himself of her from his mind?
“Oh, Francis.”
Turning his head, Francis saw his mother walk into the room, her face a picture.
“I am terribly sorry you had to find out this way,” she said, with a shake of her head. “But it was all for the best, you understand.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, keeping his frustration under control. “So everybody keeps telling me, mama, but as yet I have received very little explanation as to why this was the case.” He looked at his friend, Lord Rapson, who was seemingly very interested in the painting hanging on the wall just behind Francis’ head. “If anyone cares to start from the beginning, I should very much like an explanation.”
“Of course,” his mother replied at once, soothingly. “Just let me ring for tea, my dear. It has been a rather trying afternoon for you all, has it not?” Her eyes flickered to Miss Patterson. “I understand your cousin is here?”
It was not Miss Patterson who answered, however, but her brother.
“He is,” he replied, heavily. “And I must have made the mistake of thinking him unable to discover where I was headed. Thankfully, Lord Catesby was able
to do as my sister requested and give him no information as regarded my presence here. I am sure he is quite well on his way by now.”
A slow sense of dread began to fill Francis, starting from his stomach and going all through him. His blood began to roar in his ears, his mouth going dry as he saw Miss Patterson’s face fall.
“Oh, no,” she breathed, one hand at her heart. “What has occurred, Lord Catesby?”
He tried to clear his throat, tried to appear matter of fact, but the words stuck to his lips.
“Mr. Jefferson is to reside here overnight,” he said, with a fair amount of difficulty. “He explained he was to continue on to London come the morrow and it would not have been proper for me to ignore such a matter. Of course, I offered him a room.”
For a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence. Francis let his eyes rove around the room, taking in his mother’s horrified face, Lord Rapson’s astonished expression, and Miss Patterson’s fearful gaze.
“What is it I have done?” he asked, feeling the burden of responsibility settle onto his shoulders as he spoke. “What is so terrible about Mr. Jefferson that I ought not to have offered such an invitation?”
Miss Patterson sat a little further forward in her chair, piercing him with a suddenly fierce gaze. “Because, Lord Catesby, he has threatened the lives of both myself and of my brother. Because he is nothing more than a scoundrel and a villain. Because I have spent months hiding from him, only to now find he has discovered us. Is that enough of a reason for you?”
Chapter 10
“Lord Catesby?”
It had been some hours since Lord Catesby had discovered the truth about her identity and about Mr. Jefferson and still, the guilt on her shoulders had not yet dissipated, not even slightly. She ought not to have spoken so sharply to the gentleman, to the one man from whom the truth had been hidden. And yet, hearing that he had offered Mr. Jefferson a place to stay had sent both fear and anger through her, and she had spoken from the feelings within her heart.
He half turned. “Mrs. Harrington – I mean, Miss Patterson. Good evening.”
She bobbed her curtsy as usual. “I think, given that I am to remain as your housekeeper for the time being, you ought to refer to me as before.”
A rueful smile caught his lips. “Is that so?” he muttered, turning his back on her to walk closer to the fire that was burning in the grate. “I confess I am finding this all very difficult, Miss Patterson. I do not know what to call you, and I certainly think it rather terrible that you are still under the guise of a housekeeper when you ought not to be anything of the sort.”
Rebecca gave him a half smile. “It is for the best, Lord Catesby. I am quite sure.”
They had discussed the matter at some length that evening, quite uncertain as to what Mr. Jefferson’s plans and intentions were. Lord Catesby surmised that the gentleman wished to ensure that the house was, in fact, entirely free of Lord Rapson and so, from that, a plan had been formed. It was by no means a very good plan, for there was a good deal that could go wrong and even the dowager had looked somewhat perturbed. She had suggested that Rebecca and her brother relocate to her smaller home, but Rebecca had not agreed. This was not the way forward. They had to face this together and stop Mr. Jefferson altogether. Running and hiding was no longer something she was willing to continue.
“Mr. Jefferson retired early,” Lord Catesby continued, in a flat voice. “I am quite sure he intends to squirrel all through the house once we are all abed and, even if that is not what he has thought to do, I am quite sure that George, the footman, will make certain to put the idea in his head – just as we have intended, of course.”
Her stomach turned over, even though she knew this was what had been planned. “I am a little frightened, I confess,” she replied, quietly. “I do hope my brother will not be in danger.”
Lord Catesby did not smile. “You can trust me,” he said, softly. “You know very well that he will not deal with your cousin alone.”
“Yes, I know,” she said quietly, shutting the door tightly behind her so that it closed with a soft click. “I do trust you, my lord.”
Lord Catesby looked at her then, his eyes filled with the flames of the fire. There was a deep intensity to them, a burning that seared her very soul.
“I am sorry,” she said, knowing that she had already apologized more than once. “I did not mean to deceive you.”
He held up one hand, turning his face away. “Enough, Miss Patterson, I beg you. I have had enough apologies for one day. I hold no anger nor regret in this matter. I can understand why you have run from your cousin and why your brother has felt so helpless. To be facing a man who does not care about his reputation, nor about your own lives, must be difficult indeed.”
She nodded and moved away from the door, her body humming with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. “My brother did all he could, going so far as to call Jefferson out, but my cousin ignored him. I believe he has lost his mind somewhat, growing so obsessive over what he long desires that he will do anything to have it.”
“Your fortune,” Lord Catesby murmured, looking a little more relaxed. “He would take it by force.”
She shook her head slowly, feeling the agony and the fear she had been so used to wrap around her again. “I knew he would use my brother against me and so I left. I thought that if my cousin could not find me and if my brother remained on his estate, then the matter would come to an end. I never imagined that my cousin would make an attempt on my brother’s life in order to force him to reveal my whereabouts.” Filled with sadness, she closed her eyes to prevent tears from falling. “What else could I do? What could Rapson do? We are at the mercy of a madman.”
When she opened her eyes, she found Lord Catesby standing by her, having moved closer to her in seeing her distress. His eyes sought her own, searching her face as he managed a small smile.
“I am here with you now,” he assured her, touching her hand with his own. “I know why you did not say a word to me, why you kept your identity a secret from me, but I do wish that you had told me from the very beginning.”
Rebecca shook her head. “Your mother was a little unsure as to how you would react,” she replied, quietly. “You have been caught up with all manner of estate business, and there have been so many weddings to deal with that even I did not want to bring more of a burden to you. After all, you have nothing whatsoever to do with my family. Why should I bring my difficulties into your life?”
His lips curved gently. “Mayhap because I would have been entirely willing to have helped you,” he suggested, his fingers still capturing hers. “From the moment I saw you, Miss Patterson, you burned into my very soul. Had I but known the truth, then I would not have spent all this time berating myself, forcing my heart to forget you, only for it to fill with you all over again.”
His breath brushed across her cheek and, for a moment, Rebecca forgot completely about Mr. Jefferson and her very reason for being in the library with Lord Catesby. “I have confused you, I know – and in turn, I suppose, you have confused me, but even with only a few hours consideration, I know that I care for you still, Miss Patterson. I wish to know you better, although I am quite certain that your kind and gentle nature is truly who you are.” He glanced around the room at the books before returning his gaze to her. “There are so many things I wish to discuss with you. Miss Patterson, my desire is to know everything I can about you, to allow my heart to feel all it wishes. Can you understand that?”
She swallowed hard, her throat dry. “I – I can, my lord,” she replied, hoarsely.
“When I kissed you,” he continued, making her face flame with heat, “You did not turn from me, I do not think. If I remember correctly, you remained as you were and allowed me to do so. I distinctly remember you returning my kiss, Miss Patterson.”
She closed her eyes tightly, overwhelmed by the awareness of him. “I did not think you would recall such a thing, my lord.”
“But I d
id,” he replied, gently. “Might I hope, my lady, that there could be some return to my affections?”
Going quite still, Rebecca looked into his eyes. Her heart and mind were full of a great many swirling emotions and thoughts, all wrapped up in one another and now he was only adding to them.
“My lord,” she said slowly, trying her best to put her colliding thoughts into words. “I do not know what to say, nor what to think. You are right to state that I returned your kiss, but I will admit to being rather surprised by my own response.” Even now, the touch of his fingers on hers was sending streaks of excitement up into her heart, a heart that was clouded by the knowledge that Mr. Jefferson was not only present in this house but would soon be seeking either herself or her brother. “I do not think that there is a lack of feeling, my lord, but only that it is very slight,” she confessed, seeing the light in his eyes begin to fade. “There has been so much happening of late that I do not know what I truly feel about anything.”
He touched her face with one finger, sending a shiver straight through her. “And once Mr. Jefferson is dealt with?” he asked, his voice low and warm, wrapping itself around her. “What then, my dear lady? Will you consider your heart again? Might you permit me to court you?”
She smiled at him then, relieved that he understood. “I can promise you, Lord Catesby, that I would be more than delighted to receive your court,” she confessed, making his smile widen. “But as to my heart, allow it some time to be free from the fear and the worry that has held it for so long. As you may recall, I accused you of kissing me simply so that you might turn me out of your house!”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Lord Catesby looked at her ruefully from under his brows. “I can understand why,” he admitted, quietly. “My goodness, we have both been wrapped in uncertainty and suspicion, have we not, Miss Patterson? Although I will admit a certain relief in being able to speak to you so freely.”
Her heart lifted all the more. “I thank you for your consideration of me, Lord Catesby. I would have you know that I am truly appreciative for all you have done for me thus far – and all you will do when it comes to Mr. Jefferson.” The reminder that her cousin was within the house sent shivers down her spine, and she stepped away from Lord Catesby for a moment, rubbing her arms as though to ward off a chill. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the smile fade from Lord Catesby’s face, replaced with an almost grim appearance, as though he too had only just recalled why they were in the library. “Ah yes, of course. We are to take on your adversary together, are we not? When did your brother say to be ready?”