A look of sadness crossed his face, and Catherine squeezed his hand. He smiled and tightened his grip as well.
“As I went through her things, I was surprised to find some of her jewels sitting on her dresser as though she’d only just removed them and hadn’t yet put them away. Her rooms seemed filled with her presence, as though she’d just stepped out and would be back at any moment. I began visiting the room daily, staying for hours at a time. I found her books and letters and pored through them, trying to learn something of the mother I’d never known.
“One evening when I went to her rooms, I saw a light coming from under her door. I’m not sure why, but I was convinced that my father was in there. I was certain that he must have wanted the same connection with my mother that I’d been forging and that he’d come there to try to recapture it. I burst into the room, eager to talk to him, only to find a strange man in there, rifling through my mother’s things, defiling her room. He’d torn everything apart in his search, and her jewels were no longer on her dressing table.
“I must have made a sound, because he whirled on me, dropping her silver comb and hairbrush into a bag he had sitting near him on the floor, and pulled out a knife. I tried to back out of the door, but he was too fast and was upon me before I could escape.” He paused, dragging his hand down his face as if trying to clear the image from his eyes. “He held his arm around my neck with his knife at my throat, demanding to know where the rest of her jewels were hidden. He said if I didn’t tell him, he’d slit my throat and throw my body in the river. He said everyone would assume I’d run away again, and he’d get away with it. They’d even think I’d torn apart my mother’s rooms. I knew he was right. Something snapped in me. I became furious. All I could think was that I wanted him dead.
“I used exactly the same move I taught you. When I pushed the knife into his chest, it went in deep. He died almost instantly.” Daniel abruptly stopped talking and remained silent.
Catherine squeezed his hand. “It was self-defense. You weren’t to blame.”
He shook his head. “I try to tell myself that, but I felt the bloodlust, I wanted him dead, and I’m still responsible for that what I did.” The silence stretched between them.
“What happened next?” she finally asked. “You were just a boy.”
“I knew the problem was too big for me to handle on my own. I needed help, so I found Latimer, the one person in my life who could solve any problem. And he did. I don’t know what happened to the body, and Latimer said to forget about what had happened. But how could I forget what I’d done?
“Father shipped me off to Eton soon afterward. I think it must have been Latimer’s idea. I’m not sure how he managed that part, but he did, and I’ll be grateful to him for the rest of my life.”
She looked into his eyes, seeing how tortured he felt. “You need to forgive yourself.”
“It’s hard to forgive a murder.”
“Not murder, self-defense,” she insisted. “Just like today. I can’t bring myself to regret any of our actions today. Stansbury and Attwood put their plan into effect to separate us so that they could hurt us. We were only trying to protect ourselves.”
“When I saw that knife at your throat, I was terrified at the thought of losing you." Daniel gently cupped her cheek in his palm as he gazed into her eyes. "I only just found you.”
“And I defended myself exactly the same way you did," she said, placing her hand over his. His anguished and vulnerable expression made her ache to pull him close. "Do you hold me responsible for Attwood’s current state?”
“Of course not," he said, dropping his hand from her cheek.
“Then how could you hold a twelve-year-old boy responsible?”
He looked startled by the question “When I remember what happened that night, I seem to forget that I was just a boy.”
“You were a boy who hadn’t been cared for— a boy who, despite his childhood, grew to become a responsible and caring man.”
He turned his face away from her. “Is that how you see me?”
“Of course.”
He looked back at her, searching her face for the truth. He must have found it, because he reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. “What did I do to deserve someone as perfect as you?”
Her brows furrowed. “I’m anything but perfect. I’m impetuous, remember? And reckless, and terribly improper.”
“And I love every improper inch of you.”
“What?”
“I love you. I finally admitted to myself how much you mean to me when I thought I might lose you.”
She threw her arms around him. “I love you, too. I was terrified when I thought Stansbury had kidnapped you. I kept imagining the worst.”
He held her face in his hands and kissed her. “I haven’t kissed Gray since that night in my drawing room.” He traced his thumb down her scar. “It’s a bit disconcerting.”
Someone knocked at the carriage door, and they jumped apart.
“It’s me,” Charles called out. “The inspector is here.”
Daniel pushed the door open. “We’ll be right there.”
“He says he has a couple of questions, and then we can all go,” Charles said, turning away.
Daniel looked at her, his blue eyes smoldering with a promise that sent a bolt of passion searing to her core. “Let’s finish this up so I can take you home. Because when we get there, I want to show you exactly how much I cherish you.”
58 - Huntley Academy
One year later
“You need to stand more like a man,” Catherine said, pushing a toe between Lady Bennett’s feet and nudging them apart. “If your feet are a little farther apart, it will provide better balance for you.”
“Catherine,” a soft voice called.
Catherine spun around.
Sarah stood at the entrance to the ladies’ portion of the fencing salon, clutching her reticule nervously. “I’ve come for my first lesson.”
Catherine smiled broadly at her little sister. “And I’m so glad you’re here. Come with me to the dressing room. I’ll help you change.”
Catherine wrapped her arm companionably around Sarah’s waist and escorted her into the pretty little blue room with its row of curtained stalls. Sarah kept eyeing Catherine’s fencing costume, looking both excited and nervous about the prospect of wearing one.
A lady’s maid waited there, ready to help women in and out of their corsets and dresses, but Catherine simply nodded to her and began to undo the row of buttons running down the back of Sarah's dress.
“I hope you’ll grow to love fencing as much as I do. But if nothing else, you’ll learn something about defending yourself. You never know when you might need to use it.”
“I hope never to be in the same position you were in a year ago. I would have been petrified.”
“I hope you never are either,” Catherine said, pulling the dress over Sarah’s head. “I could go an entire lifetime without ever having a similar experience and be quite content.”
“I never understood why Stansbury and Attwood joined together. What did they hope to accomplish?” Sarah glanced in the mirror and watched as her sister loosened the strings at the back of her corset.
“It’s all speculation, since Stansbury died, but I think he enlisted Attwood’s help to get revenge against Daniel. He seemed to believe he had a prior claim to me.”
“But why such a convoluted plan?” Sarah asked as she undid the hooks at the front of her corset. “Why not just kill Huntley? Slit his throat and be done with it.”
For a moment, Catherine felt a roll of nausea and swallowed. “Stansbury wanted more than that. He wanted to humiliate Daniel.” She tugged at the bows holding Sarah’s petticoats closed. “He planned to have Daniel watch as he...” She couldn’t force herself to speak of his plans to defile her, and instead pressed her lips together. “According to Attwood, they planned to fund their escape with the money they expected to win fr
om fixing the tournament. Hampstead took first place with twenty-to-one odds. With the four of us out of the tournament, he was the strongest fencer remaining.” The petticoats tumbled to Sarah’s feet in a white cloud.
“But that doesn’t make sense,” she said, stepping out of them. “Stansbury would ruin himself in the process.”
“He was already ruined.” Catherine handed Sarah a pair of leggings to wear. Sarah looked at them doubtfully but then gave a shrug and began pulling them on over her pantalets. “Word of his underhanded business dealings had spread, and the police were searching for him. He blamed everything on Daniel. When he had me trapped in that warehouse, he was ranting about Daniel’s Midas touch, but I don’t know why.”
“He sounds mad.”
“Tuck your shift in to the leggings,” she instructed. “Yes, I think he must have been. He said some hideous things. Things I wish I’d never heard. I was truly frightened. I’m thankful Daniel arrived when he did.”
Sarah fastened the fencing jacket over her shift and was ready.
“And Attwood went to prison?”
Catherine nodded. “I was fortunate that he didn’t contradict Daniel’s version of the story. Even though I stabbed Attwood, he said that Daniel had done it. I think he was too humiliated at being brought down by a mere woman.” Catherine half smiled. “He died there just two months ago from a lung infection. Calliope’s a respectable young widow now, with her dowry intact.”
They returned to the fencing salon. The traveling trophy she’d won at Bernini’s annual tournament just one short month ago stood in a place of honor on the mantel. Hampstead’s name was engraved on it first, with hers directly beneath it. Or rather, Alexander Gray’s name. It made no difference since they were one and the same. Finally, the threads of her life had merged.
Sarah looked around, taking in the lady fencers with a bemused expression on her face. “I’d never have guessed so many women would come. You’ve done well.”
“And it remains a secret. It works out beautifully. Our Ladies’ Aid Society is a perfect cover, plus we can contribute food and supplies to women who are in desperate situations. We have a reason for meeting frequently, and it keeps away the narrow-minded and traditional members of society.”
“That’s brilliant. How did you think of it?”
“I owe the idea to Diana,” she said, nodding toward the tall slim woman with the straight black hair. “She’s my first fencing instructor. She’s led an interesting life. In fact, you’ll start your lessons with her today. She’s quite good.”
Sarah’s face fell. “Diana? But what about you? I thought you’d teach me to fence.”
Catherine shrugged. “I can’t. I promised Daniel I wouldn’t.”
“What?” Sarah’s eyes flashed with indignation. “But why would you make such a ridiculous promise?”
Catherine couldn’t stifle her grin. “Because you’re going to be an aunt; nothing is more important than keeping my baby safe.”
Sarah’s mouth dropped open. “Catherine, that’s marvelous,” she said, crushing Catherine to her chest.
Life really was quite marvelous.
Thank you for reading Lady Catherine’s Secret!
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Secrets and Seduction series
Book 1: It Takes a Spy... (Celeste and Devin’s story) here.
Book 2: Lady Catherine’s Secret (Catherine and Daniel’s story) (this book)
Book 3: Once Upon a Spy (Antonia and Robert’s story) here
Book 4: My Lady, My Spy - (Josephine and Frederick’s story) Available Feb/Mar 2016
Book 5: Along Came a Spy - (Elizabeth’s story) TBA
Standalone books (not part of a series)
Gambling on a Scoundrel (Tempy and Lucien’s story) here.
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Please read on for an excerpt from Once Upon a Spy Book 3 of the Secrets and Seduction series featuring Lord Wentworth!
Once Upon a Spy: Excerpt
§
Once Upon a Spy
A Secrets and Seduction book
Politics have no relation to morals.
- Niccolo Machiavelli
London, January 6, 1854
The turning point in a man’s life isn’t always accompanied by a crash of thunder. Sometimes it’s marked by something much more subtle and easier to miss, like the flash of a silver gown, or the rich hue of a twist of chestnut hair.
Lord Wentworth managed to dismiss his turning point.
As he caught sight of the woman across the ballroom, her strong allure caught his attention, certainly. But he ignored it, believing his immediate visceral response to be nothing more than a reaction to her beauty.
For him, there could be no future with her. Nor with any woman.
She represented a precipice. Danger. One he needed to avoid.
He chose to turn his back on the silver-gowned woman and her pull of destiny. Instead, he stepped out onto the patio to let the chill January air envelop him. It drove away some of the oppressive heat of the ballroom.
“Robert, come over here,” his brother called to him. “Lord Percival is telling the most preposterous story.”
He closed the embassy door. The glow of the flickering torches allowed him to identify Frederick sitting with a group of men at a stone table near the edge of the lawn.
As he strode across the paved patio, Robert considered how fundamentally wrong it was for the Russian Ambassador’s winter solstice celebration to be held in a building so overheated the temperature drove the guests outdoors.
His brother shifted his chair and made space for Robert to join the group. The low oil lamps on the table illuminated the listeners' rapt faces as Lord Percival recounted his latest yarn.
Everyone greeted Robert with brief smiles and nods before they returned their attention to Percival. He appeared well-groomed, with his neatly trimmed, sable-colored beard, his white gloves, and his perfectly tailored evening coat all speaking to the excellence of his valet, but something seemed slightly off about him. As expected, an aroma of tobacco emanated from this particular group, but Percival’s whiskey-laden breath came as a surprise. The evening was still a fresh, young thing, with flawless skin and a lively demeanor. Wobbly-looking Percival must have been drinking all afternoon to be so inebriated the odor oozed from his pores.
“You’ll love this,” Frederick murmured as he glanced at Robert. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled.
Lord Percival took a puff on his cigar, pausing for effect, and said “...and I forcibly tossed him from the carriage. He landed directly in a steaming pile of manure!” He slapped his hand down on the marble table to emphasize his words, but he clipped one of the oil lamps.
The container flipped over. Oil flew out, splashing onto the table and the cigar Percival clutched. The cigar immediately burst into flame. He dropped it, letting out a sharp shriek of pain and fear. The cigar landed on the table in the spreading puddle of oil. The men jumped back, knocking the chairs to the ground. In less time than a the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings, fire swept down a large swath of the tabletop.
Frederick jumped back too, but his thin evening gloves were already drenched in oil. With mounting horror, Robert watched as his brother froze for an instant. Flames erupted from his hands.
The sickening image chilled him. If Frederick had been a performer on stage, the audience would have burst into applause, but this was no trick. No sleight of hand. It was real, and Frederick’s hands were on fire.
Robert lurched forward to help just as Frederick stumbled back on the uneven lawn and shoved his hands under his arms, suffocating the flames.
There had been puddles of ice on the
table, and as the spreading flames came in contact with them, they spluttered and sprayed droplets, like water in a skillet. Two other men patted at their clothing, putting out tiny fires from the flying droplets of burning oil before it could spread.
Lord Tamworth couldn’t extinguish the fire on his sleeve. He shouted with alarm, his friends quickly surrounding him. Someone stripped off his own evening jacket and used it to smother Tamworth’s arm.
After consuming all the oil, the flames quickly withered and died. Tamworth’s friends dragged over a chair and shoved him into it. The door leading from the ballroom burst open, and a small army of footmen came rushing outside, heading directly for Tamworth.
Robert clenched his fists as he took a menacing step toward the man who’d set events in motion. “Good god, Percival, you’re a threat to everyone, you bottle-head! You’re drunk, and you’re dangerous. Get yourself under control. It’s a wonder you didn’t ignite as well with so much alcohol in your veins.”
Lord Percival lifted his hands in supplication. “It was an accident. Surely you don’t think I’d intentionally—”
Robert grabbed the other man by his lapels. “You created this situation. Don’t try to pretend you bear no responsibility for what happened. This is your doing.”
“Let him go, Robert,” Frederick said from somewhere behind him. “Come here and help me.”
With a sense of disgust, Robert gave the other man a shove, spun on his heel, and stalked into the darkness, toward the sound of his brother’s voice.
Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book Page 34