by Sue Barr
But it was Miss Catherine who stole his breath. The cream dress and cranberry spencer she wore was a perfect foil for her dark coloring. It was only when Nathan cleared his throat loudly did George realize he was staring.
“Excuse me for staring.” He decided to address his faux pas head on. “I’m in awe of all the beauty surrounding me this morning. In fact, I’m quite jealous of Nathan that he’s had the pleasure of your company longer than I.”
“Lord George, you should temper your admiration,” Caroline said with a small trill of laughter. “I might toss aside your brother and attach myself to you.”
Nathan gave George a dark look before taking his betrothed’s hand in his. He brought her fingers to his lips and murmured against them, “You are completely mad and headed for Bedlam if you entertain the notion for even one minute that I would let you go.”
George realized a person would have to be blind not to see how much Caroline was touched by his brother’s possessive remark. She leaned toward Nathan and five pairs of eyes waited to see if they would kiss. When Nathan quirked his eyebrow, she stopped and blushed.
“I believe that is our cue to take our leave or the day will get away from us.” Elizabeth stood and began ushering all of them toward the vestibule. After all the ladies had passed by him, George bumped Nathan with his shoulder.
“Nice recovery, little brother.”
“Be grateful for Caroline’s quick wit, otherwise everyone would know how much you care for a certain young miss from Hertfordshire.”
Nathan’s words stayed with George as he made his way outside. Did everyone see how much he admired Miss Catherine Bennet? Before entering the carriage, Catherine handed him the book, still wrapped in its brown paper packaging.
“You have my curiosity, Lord George. I spent most of the morning wondering what surprise you have in store for me today.”
“I believe you will like it.” He directed his attention toward Elizabeth. “Mrs. Darcy, do you mind if we attend Hatchard’s before proceeding to Gunter’s. I have a proposition with regard to the book Miss Catherine purchased for her father.”
“I have no objection. Is Lord Nathan aware we will be delayed?”
“Yes, I told him we would be about fifteen minutes and he was agreeable.”
“I am sure he was,” came Mrs. Darcy’s dry reply.
With only Mrs. Jane Bingley as a chaperone, Nathan and Caroline would have plenty of time to hold hands and have quiet words. George helped the ladies into the carriage and then joined them, sitting atop the hidden book he’d previously purchased and carefully wedged Catherine’s book between the seat and inside panel of the carriage.
Within minutes, their carriage drew to a stop in front of the book store. As he moved to exit, he pretended to bump Catherine’s package onto the floor.
“How clumsy of me,” he muttered loud enough for the ladies to hear.
He then reached beneath the seat and pulled out his package, grateful for the natural dimness within an enclosed carriage. After alighting, he assisted all the ladies to the sidewalk. With a nod to Henry, he then turned and followed the ladies into Hatchard’s assured that his driver would retrieve the book and store it safely in the lock box beneath his seat.
For the first time in weeks, ever since she’d gained possession of such a potential threat, not only to England but to herself, George felt a great weight roll off his shoulders. Now he could focus his attention solely on Miss Catherine Bennet of Longbourn.
***
“You wish to have a book plate with Papa’s name and estate placed inside the book?”
Kitty was flabbergasted. Never in her craziest of dreams would she think of doing something so extravagant. Lord George’s eyes flashed with delight at having surprised her.
“I do. Not everyone has a first edition of such a popular novel and this paves the way for other treasures to be added, making his library a little more prestigious.”
“Although a thoughtful gift, Lord George, I do not have the funds for such fripperies.”
His brow furrowed and for a moment she thought she saw a trace of frustration flit across his handsome face. It disappeared as fast as it arrived and he smiled, again.
“I have told you more than once of how dreadful I feel at having almost run you over and this small token will almost pay my debt of gratitude.”
“Almost?” she queried. What more could he do? He’d exceeded any and all expectations she’d never had.
“Yes, almost. I have something else I would like to discuss with you later today.”
“Very well,” she sighed out, not willing to continue to argue in front of her sisters. “I agree to a book plate for Papa.”
“Excellent, Miss Catherine. Come this way.”
She and Lord George made their way to the back of the store while Lizzy and Mary browsed the shelves. Soon they were at a small counter and were greeted by a middle-aged man. George unwrapped the book and handed the copy of Robinson Caruso to the clerk. She then provided the clerk with her father’s name and correct spelling of Longbourn. They were assured the book would be ready within the hour and all four of them left to meet up with Nathan, Caroline and Jane.
“Miss Catherine, before we return for your father’s book, would you take a stroll with me in the park?”
They’d finished enjoying their iced drinks and the ladies were discussing which shops to attend next. Caroline expressed a great desire to visit a prominent milliner a few shops down the street.
Why would Lord George wish to walk with her, alone? Aware of the speculative glances everyone sent their way, she felt a touch of panic.
“I will, if Mary joins us.” She knew Mary didn’t share the same passion as her other sisters for bonnets and ribbons and would make a pleasant chaperone.
Mary nodded her assent and with that George made plans with Nathan to meet them all at Hatchard’s in an hour. They crossed the street and began walking down the path lined with flowering bushes which led to a small fountain and a few benches scattered at intervals.
Their pace was moderate, as her ankle remained weak and she couldn’t proceed at her normal speed. When they reached the fountain, Mary asked if she could rest for a moment and peruse the book she’d purchased while they were at Hatchard’s.
“Of course, Mary. Lord George and I will stay within sight and stroll around the fountain.”
Mary gave her a small smile and settled on the bench. Lord George extended his arm and Catherine carefully laid her fingers atop his forearm. He placed his hand over her fingers and drew her closer.
“I do not want you falling and re-injuring yourself, otherwise I might have to buy a whole library full of books for your father.”
Almost against her will, she laughed. Only Lord George knew how to make light of her nervousness.
“Very well, although if Papa were here, he might encourage you to toss me in the fountain so that he could build a new wing to house all his books.”
“Ha,” Lord George laughed out loud. “You have a surprisingly quick wit, Miss Catherine.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
They’d proceeded to the other side of the fountain when she felt Lord George’s arm tense. There was no one near, nor was anyone walking toward them so she wondered why he exhibited such a strange nervousness.
“Miss Catherine. I was going to wait until we knew one another a little better before I… before we…,” he seemed to flounder for words. “I would like permission to speak with your father.”
“About what?” she asked in surprise.
For what reason could he wish to speak with Papa? Did he wish to query further about compensation for her injuries? Lord George interrupted her internal musings and turned to face her, taking possession of both her hands.
“I wish to seek his permission to court you.”
***
With a gasp, she turned to face him, her eyes wide. Momentarily distracted by the look of abject fear in her eyes, he nea
rly missed her soft question.
“You wish to… court me.”
He briefly registered she said it as a statement, not as a question.
“Yes, I wish to court you – most ardently.”
“But… but, you hardly know me.”
“Ever since last November at Pemberley, you have been my silent companion. My greatest fear was that someone else would capture your heart before I had a chance to see you again.”
“I will never marry.” She pulled her hands from his and turned away.
The world dropped from beneath his feet and he felt as though he were falling a great distance. He blurted out ‘Why not?’ before he could stop himself. He admitted she had surprised him with her response. Wasn’t marriage the goal of all young ladies?
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Miss Catherine.” He longed take her hand in his again and satisfied his need to touch her with taking her arm and turning her to face him. “Please explain. I promise I won’t be angry.”
Her indecision displayed itself by the way she nibbled one corner of her bottom lip and he sorely wished to stop her with a kiss. He schooled his features to show only patience, not passion.
“I…Well…” He watched as she seemed to struggled to find words. “I don’t want a marriage like Mama and Papa.”
This? This is what held her back? Her parents imprudent marriage? He threw caution to the wind and capture her hand, smiling slightly when she snatched it back as though burned. His beautiful, mixed up Catherine. He led them to a bench and they both sat down.
“I, for one, think your parents have a perfect marriage.” He began his argument to sway her opinion.
“What?” Her startled gaze flew to his. “Surely you jest? Papa always censures Mama because she is so flighty and empty-headed. How you think that is perfect is beyond me.”
“Miss Catherine,” George said with a soft laugh. “Have you never watched your parents with an ambiguous eye?” At the shake of her head he continued. “You father bellows he has the silliest of women living under his roof, but I can guarantee he would not want it any other way. And your mother, for all her fluttering and spasms, completely dotes on him. Although she may not comprehend most of what he talks about, she never interrupts and believes with all her heart he is the most educated, intelligent man in all of England.”
Catherine’s mouth opened slightly at this revelation of her parents and his attention was drawn to the dewy softness of her full lips. With great regret he forced himself look away and continued to press his argument.
“Your father, on the other hand, allows your mother to be flighty and although he grumbles about how much she overspends her pin money, has he ever refused her? She leaves him alone so he can read his beloved books in silence and he, in turn, allows her to behave in a silly manner. For them, it is the perfect match.”
“But, Mama can at times be so vulgar. She embarrasses us constantly with talk of meeting rich gentleman−” She stopped midsentence. “Forgive me, Lord George. Mama forgets at times that more elevated people do not go around talking about how much wealth a person possesses.”
“That is where you are wrong,” he said with a derisive laugh. “While your mother has some crude tendencies – nothing that alarms me to the point of cutting all contact with your family,” he soothed when her eyes flashed with annoyance, “However, I can assure you with absolute certainty your mother is a soft bellied fish compared to the barracudas which swim amongst London’s first circles.”
“Oh my. This sounds like you have had some bitter encounters.”
He sighed, troubled that he’d vented some of his loathing of London’s society in her direction.
“I would take your witty father and your flighty mother any day of the week. They at least reside together in their home and share conversation, regardless of how silly it might sound.”
“I never thought of it that way,” she said softly. “How right you are.”
“Of course, I am right. Just as I am right you shall marry.” He shifted closer, inhaling her sweet scent of lavender. “Maybe even to me.”
“Fair warning, Lord Kerr. I am not my mother.” She refused to meet his gaze and fussed with the button on her glove “I will not dote on any man, nor do I think you are the most educated man in all of England.”
“But you think I am intelligent, yes?”
She nodded, her cheeks blooming a delicate shade of pink as she turned her face to look back at Miss Bennet, exposing the long line of her neck. He longed to lift his hand and tuck the errant curl forever escaping her bonnet behind her weaved pattern.
He smiled, feeling a spurt of satisfaction. She hadn’t repeated her statement of never marrying when he’d put forward his cheeky suggestion. Was that not proof enough she at least thought about him? Maybe even dallied in a few day dreams?
“Catherine?” he whispered, half in anguish, half in hope. “With your permission, I would like to ride to Longbourn and speak with your father and after a few months, ask for your hand in marriage.”
She stayed silent for so long, he wondered if she’d heard his desperate plea.
“No,” she finally answered.
“Pardon?” Surely, she hadn’t denied his request again?
For a brief moment her shoulders drooped and curved slightly in, as though protecting herself from some unknown force. If he knew anything about body language, what he witnessed assured him she was experiencing deep remorse, or worse, a sense of loss. After an agonizing few seconds of silence, she stood and faced him. “I thank you for the honor you have bestowed on me, but I cannot accept knowing that in the end I would refuse any offer of marriage.”
Before he could utter another word, she turned around and walked as best she could with an injured ankle toward Miss Bennet. All coherent thought fled from his mind and as such, he remained seated on the bench.
Why would she refuse him?
Then, it hit him. She must have heard rumors of his reputation as a debauched rake. Not for the first time he cursed the fact he’d played the part of a rogue in order to hide his clandestine operation with Evangeline. He wanted to go home and lick his wounds, but as a gentleman he had to escort the two Miss Bennet’s back to their sister’s home. Besides, chasing after Catherine wouldn’t make her listen. Words were empty, they meant nothing without action. He would have to ‘show’ he was a changed man and how much he loved her.
He caught up with her before she’d even gone a few yards.
“Miss Catherine,” he called softly.
She continued on as though he hadn’t spoken. He came abreast and then angled his body in her direct path so that she’d have to either slow down or stop. She came to a full stop, but kept her head lowered, the wide brim of her bonnet obscuring his view of her face.
“Miss Catherine, I beg your forgiveness. Please allow me to escort you back to your sister. I will not speak another word on this topic.” At least for today, he promised himself.
After what seemed like an eternity, she placed her fingers on his extended arm and they continued at a slower pace toward Miss Bennet, who’s interest remained absorbed by her book. He gave silent thanks for the single minded focus she had when it came to reading. Much the same as she’d displayed at Longbourn after Catherine’s accident.
For Catherine’s sake, he was glad Miss Bennet hadn’t seen their somewhat private exchange. Catherine may choose to share what happened with her sister and there was nothing he could do about it. However, her revelation might be a good idea as Miss Bennet, a practical sort of girl, might counsel Catherine to reconsider his offer.
When they were still a dozen yards away from Miss Bennet, Catherine fumbled to open her reticule. He risked peeking beneath her bonnet and saw a glistening trail of tears streaking down her pale cheeks. Without thought, he reached into his pocket and provided her with one of his own monogrammed linen handkerchiefs.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“You are we
lcome,” he whispered back. “Would you like to watch the ducks for a brief moment before we return to Miss Bennet?”
He wished to provide her with some much-needed time in order to compose herself before they reached her sister. He was rewarded with a quick glance from under her bonnet and a tremulous smile.
“Thank you, Lord George. After my abominable behavior, you still show me such kindness.”
“I would present you with the sun and moon, if possible. Giving you a moment of peace is the least I could do.”
Chapter Thirteen
Tears flowed freely down Kitty’s cheeks, soaking her pillow. At first her heart soared at the thought of Lord George courting her with the purpose of marriage, then reality shoved its way into her brain and reminded her that on their wedding night he’d discover her deepest, darkest secret.
Not for the first time she railed against the fact she could never marry. Yes, Papa told her not to refuse a good gentleman and she knew he’d meant Lord George, but how could she in good conscience marry him without telling him about her past? Once he knew all the sordid details, he’d cut her direct and at least this way she had a small chance of maintaining a friendship.
When he’d leaned in and she thought he might kiss her, she fought to keep a clear head. Her brain ran around like a silly goose thinking of reasonable ways to refuse him when she’d remembered one small comment made by Mrs. Hurst when the ladies had tea last week.
She’d mused about how tame Lord George’s behavior had been these past few months. According to the ladies she gossiped with, he had quite the reputation of being a favorite of the Countess of Anstruther, whose husband was conveniently over on the Continent. At the time, Kitty disregarded her catty observations as when Lord George and the Countess spoke at Gunter’s, she’d not noticed one iota of attraction between them, only a tense nervousness on both their parts.