In an instant, Sarah snapped fully awake. “Lie still,” she commanded in an authoritative whisper. She jumped from the bed, threw the covers over Catherine’s head, and began rearranging the pillows to disguise the lump of her sister’s form. Fortunately, the thick feather bed enveloped and surrounded Catherine, concealing her presence.
Catherine made a small opening in the covers, just large enough to allow her to see Sarah and provide herself with some air.
Sarah darted away from the bed to stand next to her bureau. She was rummaging through a drawer when Mother abruptly opened the door.
Catherine held her breath, hardly daring to move.
“Sarah, you’re up early, dear. Didn’t you hear my knock?” Mother scanned the room, her gaze hovering on the bed.
Catherine froze, afraid to even breathe.
A heartbeat later, Mother continued her inspection of the bedroom.
Catherine’s nose began to tickle. Nothing bad yet, but still... she slid her hand slowly toward her face while keeping an eye on her mother.
The look Sarah shot their mother was priceless. If Catherine hadn’t known better, she’d have believed the girl was surprised. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you. Maybe you knocked while I was yawning.” Sarah began brushing her hair. “I want to run down to the stables early this morning before beginning my lessons with Miss Bell. I haven’t been allowed down there for a week. It’s so early, I thought I’d be the first one up, but when I peeked out into the hallway, I saw that you were awake too.”
Mother patted Sarah’s shoulder. “I’m glad to see you’ve recovered. I worry about head injuries. You’ll be careful, won’t you?”
Sarah gave her a slight smile and a nod. As she dragged the brush through her hair, Mother walked up behind her and watched Sarah in the mirror.
Catherine pinched her nose, rubbing the itchiness away.
“Allow me, darling.” Mother took the brush from Sarah’s hand. “You have such beautiful hair.” She ran the brush through its length. “It’s such an attractive shade of chestnut and has lovely, warm streaks of auburn. And it’s so marvelously thick.” She sighed. “My hair used to be similar to yours. Your father used to call it my crowning glory. But now, the highlights have faded.” Her hand paused in its task. “You and your sister are so young. I sometimes envy you because your lives are still ahead of you.”
“But you’re not old. And you’re so pretty. Papa thinks so too. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice him. He likes to watch you.”
“Fa! Don’t be a silly goose. Papa hardly even notices me.” She smiled slightly and resumed brushing Sarah’s hair with a faraway look in her eyes. “There was a time, when we were first married, when he looked at me with such –,” she stopped abruptly. “Your father is a busy man. He’s doing important work for the queen. These past few months have been difficult for him with the deaths of your grandparents.”
Catherine felt a bead of sweat trickle down her forehead. It was hot under the covers, wearing so many layers of clothes. Especially after that mad dash home. But the expression on her mother’s face, reflected in the mirror, held her attention. She looked sad. Lonely, even. She’d always said she liked having Papa travel, but it was obvious that wasn’t true.
“Your father takes very good care of us.” Abruptly, Mother put down the hairbrush and turned away, hiding her face from both Catherine’s and Sarah’s view. But Catherine had the distinct impression that her mother was holding back tears.
Catherine heard a rattling sound near the open door. Had someone arrived carrying a tea tray? As Mother turned her back to the door, Catherine was able to see her face again. Mother pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and delicately touched it just beneath her eye.
“How timely, Simpson,” Mother said, pinning a smile on her face as she turned to greet the maid, whom Catherine presumed must be standing at the door. The heavenly scent of hot chocolate and cinnamon scones wafted to her under the covers, causing a pang of hunger to shoot through her.
“Yes, m’lady. Cook sent me up with a tray for... for Miss Sarah.”
“Thank you, Simpson,” Sarah said. “Please set it by the window.”
Catherine heard footsteps receding, and then there was a long silence. Catherine could only watch Sarah stare in the direction of her bedroom door as she waited to find out when she could come out.
“She’s downstairs. It’s safe,” Simpson said. Then she closed the door with a click.
Catherine peeked out to discover that Simpson was gone. The maid must be angry with her as well. Catherine let out a heavy sigh as she climbed out from under the covers. She could hardly wait to peel herself out of her sweaty garments.
Sarah’s eyes widened. “You’re a sight. If Mother had caught you, she’d have... well, I don’t know what she’d have done, but it would have been bad. Very bad.” She shook her head disapprovingly. “You can’t keep taking these risks. You’re going to get caught.”
Catherine let out a deep sigh. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
22 - A Clear Conscience
Although Daniel planned to leave for his new country house later that morning, he first needed to know if the little hoyden had managed to return home undetected. If not, he’d do whatever was necessary to help her.
Stopping by her house at this hour was completely out of the question. If she’d made it home safely, his early call would leave everyone puzzled at best, and if she’d been caught sneaking back inside but had talked her way out of trouble, he’d only inflame everyone’s suspicions.
After a moment’s consideration, he struck upon the perfect plan. He’d question Catherine’s older brother, Charles. Perhaps the young viscount would be at the Ambridge Club. He’d seen Charles there frequently. In fact, he’d been there yesterday morning. With a little luck, the young man would make a repeat appearance today.
Less than a half hour later, Daniel strolled through the doors of the club and tossed his hat and overcoat to the porter. The secretary at the front desk was sorting through a stack of papers, but he set them aside at Daniel’s approach.
“May I help you, Lord Huntley?”
“Is Lord Spencer expected here this morning?”
“Yes, sir. He has an appointment. He should arrive within the next half hour.”
Daniel smiled. Perfect.
He settled into a comfortable wing-backed chair near the entrance. He angled it so he could watch both the front door and out one of the large windows. A light flurry of snow began, and the passersby left dark footsteps along the white pavement. A slow but steady stream of gentlemen trickled through the door, stomping their feet and dropping off damp hats and cloaks. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long for Charles to appear.
While watching the young man’s face from across the room, Daniel tried to gauge his mood. Charles chatted in a relaxed manner with an older friend, so it would appear that nothing was amiss at home. That was a good sign.
Daniel folded the newspaper he’d been pretending to read and headed toward a spot a short distance from the two gentlemen. As he approached, he made eye contact with Charles’s companion, John Cunningham, who recognized him and nodded a greeting.
Mr. Cunningham shifted his weight as a subtle invitation for Daniel to come over. This was exactly what he’d been hoping for, and he moved to join them.
“Huntley," Cunningham said in a hearty tone. "How splendid to see you here this morning. Making an early start to the day, what?” Cunningham’s goatee trembled on his round face as he chuckled. “I suppose if you’re here this early, it means that London’s debutantes were forsaken by you last night.”
Charles looked at Daniel quizzically. Cunningham glanced from one to the other and then asked Daniel, “Have you met the Viscount Spencer?”
“Yes,” said Daniel, giving Charles a smile, “although you may not remember me. We met briefly last week while fencing.”
“Yes, that’s it.” Cha
rles grinned sheepishly. “I was certain I remembered you from somewhere. I suppose I tried to block the events of that evening from my mind since you trounced me so soundly. Are you in London for the season?”
Daniel nodded as he inspected the young man’s face for any subtle clues that would suggest something was amiss, but he saw nothing. Perhaps Lady Catherine had managed to return home safely. That would be a relief.
Cunningham turned to Charles and confided, “Lord Huntley has made quite the impact here this season. My wife has heard his name mentioned frequently by the mothers of marriageable girls. I’m afraid he is going to leave a number of disappointed damsels once he plucks a bride from their midst.” He chuckled at what he apparently considered to be a superb jest.
Daniel’s jaw momentarily tensed. Fortunately, he wouldn’t have to endure this type of teasing for much longer. Once he announced his engagement, most of it would disappear.
“I don’t envy you that distinction,” Cunningham said. “Be careful, sir. Some of these chits can be downright dangerous once they decide to set their caps for you.”
Recalling the more obvious attempts some of the ladies had made, he had to agree. “Yes. I’ve noticed.”
With a look of dawning recognition, Charles regarded Daniel keenly. “Wait, weren’t you the gentleman who rescued my sister?”
Daniel froze. Rescued his sister? But it was the other way around... Catherine had rescued him. “I—I don’t know—,” he began.
“Yes, of course. Sarah has prattled on and on about riding home with you on your horse... Raj or Rajah or something.”
Of course. How could he have been so foolish? “Rajah. How is your sister? I trust she suffered no ill effects from her fall.”
“Ha! You can’t keep that one down for long,” Charles said with an indulgent gleam in his eye. “She tried to get on her horse the very next day, much to her governess’s annoyance. Mother had placed her on strict bed rest because of her head injury. After that, Miss Bell was afraid to let Sarah out of her sight, convinced she’d head straight to the stables at the first opportunity. Mother’s finally letting her resume her normal activities today. I should warn you however, she seems quite taken with you. Young as she is, if she decides to set her cap for you, you’d better take care. I watch out for my sisters.” Although his tone was casual, Charles pinned him with a pointed look.
Daniel met his gaze and gave a slow nod. He found himself taking a liking to the young man. As an only child, he’d often wondered what it would have been like to have a large family. How different would his life have been with a sibling? Would it have been less empty? Richer? He hoped his own children might be as close as Charles and his sisters obviously were.
Of all the people in his life, Wentworth had come closest to filling the role of brother. They’d met at boarding school, and once the young man had realized what Daniel’s home life was like, he'd never said a word about it, but simply invited him home during every break between terms. Daniel could never repay him for the kindness he’d shown. Wentworth might have a temper, but underneath it all, he had a kind heart. He did his best to hide it so that no one could take advantage of him.
The other boys at Eton hadn’t been so welcoming. At every turn, they’d made Daniel aware of his shortcomings. His education had been neglected at home, and he wasn’t cultured enough to associate with them. The worst part was that everyone knew his father was insane. That alone would have been enough to make him a social outcast, but the combination of problems had been insurmountable. If not for Wentworth, his life would have been unbearable.
“You always seem to wind up on the right side of things in business, Huntley,” Cunningham said.
With a start, Daniel realized he hadn’t been paying attention. He tried to pick up the thread of the conversation.
“In fact,” Cunningham continued, “I remember a couple of years ago, some men tried to outmaneuver you by having you followed and trying to circumvent you in some of your business dealings.”
A smile slid across Daniel’s face at the memory. “Yes. They were most annoying until I figured out their scheme. They were spying on me to gather information about my future endeavors. Then they made deals with the other parties involved before I had a chance to finalize my contracts.” He gave a slight shrug. “It was a simple matter for me to lead them into bad deals rather than good ones. After they lost quite a bit of money, they finally stopped trying to predict my plans. I never did identify all the members of that little group.”
“Ho! That’s devilishly clever of you, Huntley. Devilishly clever. ‘Hoist with their own petard,’ so to speak.” Cunningham said, his goatee quivering again with laughter.
Charles looked at him quizzically. “Petard?”
“Shakespeare, my boy. What, haven’t they been teaching you anything at Oxford? Means to be brought down by a weapon of your own devising.” Cunningham clapped Charles firmly on his shoulder and then turned to Daniel. “So, do you have any good investment tips for me?”
“Hmm. You’ve caught me at an unusually bad time. I’m in the midst of negotiating an important contract, and my partner insists on an exclusive arrangement.” Lord Larchmont had been most insistent on it. He noticed Cunningham’s dejected face and added, “But if you’d like, I’ll contact you the next time I come across something you might find of interest.”
Cunningham’s expression brightened considerably. “That is most generous of you, Huntley. Most generous. You know how I love to dabble.” He pursed his lips and glanced away. “But I imagine your, ah... partner will keep you occupied. If he’s the man I’ve heard rumors about, you’ll find it difficult to extricate yourself from your entanglement with him. Tread carefully. I think I’ll hunt around for another good investment in the meantime.”
Daniel gave a casual shrug that belied his tension. Did Cunningham suspect his alignment with Larchmont? “Happy hunting.”
His alignment with Larchmont had already benefited him. After all, he wouldn’t have been able to purchase the estate if not for the man’s influence.
Charles gave Daniel a genial nod as he took his leave, and his thoughts returned to Catherine. He wondered briefly if he’d mentioned to “Gray” that he’d be gone for a couple of weeks. Last night was still a bit hazy. But he did remember telling her that his servants were at his new property.
At least Catherine wasn’t in danger of being disgraced. He’d be able to pursue his negotiations with Lord Larchmont regarding a marriage contract with Lady Lydia with a clear conscience.
He left the club a short time later, confident that Catherine had returned home undetected. As he hurried down the steps, he passed a fat, balding man who seemed startled and nearly slipped in the snow, but then righted himself.
23 - Worn Leather Shoes
It was too bloody cold!
The snow melted when it touched the frosty puddles that were beginning to ice around the edges. When the man accidentally stepped into one, an icy, foul liquid seeped into the seams of his shoes, soaking his wool socks. Now with each step he took, the frigid water stole the warmth from his feet. He could hear the liquid squelching as he traipsed down the busy street.
The man arrived at the Ambridge Club and noticed that the steps were coated with a thin layer of ice. He wondered briefly if one of the servants there had tried to wash them that morning. Idiot. Someone could get killed. He gingerly crept up the slick steps, intent on getting out of the snow.
He glanced up just as a tall gentleman came out the door and started descending the steps toward him. Then, as if he had not a care in the world the gentleman gave the man a nod of greeting and continued on.
It was the marquess. Huntley!
The man stumbled in surprise and stood there agog. After a moment he clicked his mouth shut and turned to stare after the marquess, furrowing his brow.
What the deuce? Huntley shouldn’t be walking about like this! I paid good money to have him taken! Did the men I hired even manage to s
earch his home last night?
He turned around in his tracks and hurried off, his worn leather soles slipping on the road.
There were two scoundrels he needed to talk with, and they’d better have some damned good answers.
24 - A Letter Arrives
After breakfast, Catherine joined her mother and brother in the morning room. Charles had only recently returned from an appointment at his club. Soon, Mother would drag her away on a round of afternoon calls. She only hoped she’d be able to speak with Charles first. She needed his advice.
When a young footman entered the room bearing a letter, Charles glanced up and frowned. After he examined it, he smiled. “It’s from Mannerly. I haven’t heard from him in at least a month.” He slid his finger under the seal, breaking it.
He quickly scanned the missive but then stopped. “What on earth?” He read it again, and this time his eyes moved more slowly.
Mother stared at him, and when he was done reading the message, he handed it to her without a word. After scrutinizing it, she sighed deeply. “What do you plan to do?”
“What can I do? This is all so outrageous. I never laid a finger on that...” He stopped, glancing at Catherine.
It must be about the girl from Oxford, Catherine realized.
Mother handed the letter back to Charles. “Perhaps a quick trip to visit your friend in Cheshire would be advisable.”
“Yes. I think you’re right. I’ll leave immediately, if you’ll excuse me.” With a nod, he left the morning room.
“What was that all about?”
“Nothing to trouble you, dear. Your brother needs to take care of some personal business.”
§
When Catherine returned to her bedroom, she found a note from Charles on her bed.
“Sorry I had to leave so suddenly —,” was all it said. Tucked inside was the letter he’d received.
Dear C.,
Rumors continue to fly regarding you and that silly twit of a girl, Calliope.
Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book Page 15