“You never wrote,” she countered. “You knew what house I snuck out of every day. You could have sent a letter.”
“I could have, I apologize. But I was afraid that I would get you into trouble. We were not supposed to be acquainted, after all. When the loneliness of Clearwater Manor began to set in, I feared it was too late to send a missive, and that you wouldn’t welcome my correspondence.”
Catherine thought it was a plausible explanation, but she still found the ache of bitterness linger in her heart. “I suppose it doesn’t matter know. We’re going to be well acquainted once I marry your father.” She could not hide the disdain from her voice.
Lord Desmond winced and Catherine looked away. She had not wanted to intentionally cause him pain, but it felt as if everything was against her lately, even their past friendship. The marriage to the Baron Desmond would make a mockery of that, but what was worse was the marriage that wouldn’t happen. She would never be able to pursue her lifelong feelings for Thomas, and she could not even share the secret that she intended to run away as soon as possible. He would be required to tell her father and Baron Desmond. Catherine considered asking him about Madame Kingston’s, but felt she would just be pushing her luck. It would raise too many questions.
“Well, it was nice seeing you again, Lord Desmond.” Catherine rose and before Thomas could stand and escort her out, Catherine turned away and walked swiftly to the door. She felt the press of a palm on the door she was opening, and found Thomas standing next to her.
“If I could have it any other way, I would…” he trailed off and Catherine frowned. He would what?
“It doesn’t matter, Lord Desmond,” she said quietly. The pressure released from the door and she hurried out of it.
When she returned to her room, she was anxious and buzzing from her encounter with Thomas. She paced around her room, and considered trying to read. When she attempted it, she found herself staring absentmindedly at the book. Thomas was so close that she could smell the sharp scent of masculinity from him. For the briefest moment, even in her confusion, she wondered why she couldn’t be permitted to marry Thomas instead of the Baron Desmond. To even suggest such a thing to her father, or to the Lord Desmond, would be the utmost act of social impropriety imaginable.
Catherine barely spoke with Sarah when she brought dinner, and it wasn’t long before she was on her way back to Madame Kingston’s. When she arrived, she spent the first part of the evening cleaning the lunch dishes of the house, and then she began work on the kitchen.
“You seem distracted tonight, Catherine.” She looked up to see Claire standing next to the table eating.
“Oh, yes. I suppose I am.”
“Is something bothering you that I might be able to help you with?” Claire asked.
“Oh, that’s so kind of you. I am just upset with my father again. That’s all.”
“I see,” Claire mused. “It isn’t easy when men control our lives. In a way, men control our lives here, too.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, without them we don’t have customers. They control our livelihood.”
Catherine considered this. Again, the ways of men dictate the fate of the women in the house, even when Madame Kingston is the owner of the establishment.
“Do you think it will ever change?” Catherine sat back. Her knees hurt. She had been scrubbing under the table where the grime left rings on the floor. Cook was moving around her all evening, but snow had started to fall and business seemed to be dwindling. It appeared that on the bitter cold nights, men would come in for company and the opportunity to warm up, but on snowy nights, everyone stayed in their respective dwellings.
“I’m not certain that it will change in our lives, my Lady.” Catherine’s heart sank. She had been hoping for some amount of optimism, but Claire was just as trapped by the dictations of men as she was. She was just less fortunate than Catherine.
“I think we can change, and make it better.” Claire reached out and squeezed her shoulder. In that moment, Catherine knew she had made a friend. No matter what the outcome of the fiasco with her father and the Baron Desmond was, she would find a way to help Claire out of this place.
“Claire, there’s a Lord here!” Rose entered the kitchen and Catherine looked up. Rose began fussing with her dark curly hair and pulling her stockings up.
“Rose, Madame Kingston told us he is off limits. They’ve personal business to attend to.”
Catherine thought this was strange. Of all of the women available here, Madame Kingston certainly wasn’t the most youthful and comely, but perhaps the Lord had strange appetites. She rose from the floor and walked to the door to quickly peer out.
Catherine gasped and turned away, flattening her back to the wall. “Catherine, is everything all right?” Claire’s voice was worried, and Catherine’s eyes flew open and she pressed her finger to her lips. Rose and Claire looked at her in confusion.
“I, uh, I know him. Please-” she pleaded, “Please don’t let him know I am here. I don’t want to be found out. Please!”
Claire nodded immediately, and turned her attention to Rose. “I don’t know what’s going on, but Madame isn’t going to like it if you bring drama into her house.”
“No drama, Rose. I just don’t want him to know I’m here. If he doesn’t know I’m here, then there won’t be any issue, right?”
Rose nodded but her lips thinned, and Catherine was afraid she wasn’t going to hear the end of this.
“Claire, will you let me know when he leaves?” she whispered.
“Of course.” Claire nodded and the two women exited the kitchen.
Catherine spent the rest of the evening scrubbing in the kitchen. She was grateful the linens turned out to be something that would be done once a week rather than every night, because it was hard work hauling buckets of snow to the fire to melt and boil. Claire continued to come in and fill her in on the way the house was run. In the summer, the linens were hung out on the line to conserve water. She didn’t bother to tell Claire she wouldn’t be here in the summer, but it was interesting listening to her talk about the dynamics of the house. She also learned the names of some of the regulars who frequented the house. What surprised her the most was when Claire informed her that most of the men came in for companionship due to loneliness. It was less about the services they procured. Claire seemed almost fond of some of them.
Catherine considered asking her to come with her when she ran away. She wondered if Claire would dare leave the security of her vocation.
She left that night knowing that Lord Desmond had left several hours prior, and was probably resting in a nice comfortable bed in the guest apartments. Catherine trudged through the snow, bone weary and exhausted, and she was just about to reach up and grab the lowest branch of the tree when she felt the grip of someone’s hand on her wrist. The other hand of her assailant clamped over her mouth as she attempted to scream, and then she heard someone whisper in her ear.
“Lady Catherine, I didn’t think you were disposed to sneak out of bedroom windows and climb trees, but here you are. Just like when we were children.”
Catherine turned when Thomas let go of her. He was bundled up and appeared to have been waiting for her. “Lord Desmond, what are you-”
“As the one who has been caught sneaking back in, I think the question begs to be answered in regards to what you have been doing.”
Catherine looked around and out towards the park. She couldn’t think of a plausible explanation. “It doesn’t concern you, Lord Desmond.”
“I would have to disagree, Lady Haddington,” Thomas said. “I am here on behalf of my father, Baron Desmond of Clearwater Manor. If there is some...liaison, I should know about-”
Catherine felt her cheeks flame. “I beg your pardon, Lord Desmond! I am not the one who has been eliciting a liaison with-” Catherine stopped before she finished her sentence. If she let on that she knew he was frequenting the courtesan house, he w
ould know she was also in the White Chapel district.
“What are you talking about, Lady Haddington?”
“Nothing. Nothing that concerns you, Lord Desmond.” Catherine turned and made her way towards the front of the house. There was no use in climbing up the tree. If Lord Desmond was going to stand on ceremony and act accordingly with his father’s wishes, then he would be obligated to tell her father that she had been putting herself at risk.
“Lady Haddington- Catherine, wait.” Lord Desmond grabbed her arm. “I won’t tell him. I don’t know where you have been going, but I won’t be party to the relationship between you and your father deteriorating any further. The Baron Desmond isn’t long for this world, it won’t be so bad. And, you’ll still have me there as your friend. If you wish.” Thomas let go of her arm and Catherine stared up at him.
“Why are you helping me?” she whispered.
“Because you aren’t the only one my father has trapped in his circle of cruelty. I have wanted desperately to find some way to escape Clearwater Manor myself and live an adventure;travel abroad and discover new and interesting things. Being confined with him has done nothing for my social standing. Rather, Baron Desmond is a greedy man, and he will not let go of those he can ensnare into his web and force into his company.”
Catherine felt the sting behind her eyes and she looked away, blinking rapidly. How had it come to this? How was it that, through her independence, she became so trapped? Her options were even more limited than those of the needy, simpering waifs of the ton.
“I won’t tell you what my intentions have been. Just know that they remain pure, Lord Desmond. There is no liaison, so take that for what you will.” Catherine went back towards her window and found Thomas following close behind. When she reached up for the first branch, she felt his hand on her arm again and she turned to him. “My Lord?”
Before she could question his intentions further, Lord Desmond leaned down and ran his lips across hers for the briefest moment.
“My Lady, if it had been any other way...I-” A light flickered on in the house downstairs and Thomas cupped her boot, helping her hoist herself up to the branch so she could hasten to her room. No one would think to question him if he walked through the front door at such a late hour. Catherine paused near her window and peered inside. It was still dark, so she looked down to find Thomas brushing away their tracks.
Once Catherine was safely inside her room, she took pause to consider what had just happened. She brought her fingers to her lips, which still tingled, and sat in the chair beside her desk. The kiss had been nothing like she ever expected before. It was so, daring and bold! Their brief moment of contact was right next to the house, where anyone could see. Mind, it had been in the wee hours of the morning, so probably nothing compared to what the vagrants out and about at this hour might experience. She wondered if Thomas’ liaisons with the women of Madame Kingston’s had given him any other interesting skills. Catherine shook her head, not allowing herself to dwell anymore on the subject. Down that path lay nothing but fanciful notions and lofty daydreams.
She rose from the chair and removed her cloak and stained dress. Catherine bundled the soaked clothes, shoved them back under the bed, and collapsed again. She woke sometime later and realized that she must have slept longer than just an hour or two, because her stomach rumbled. When she looked around, she found her room out of order. The dress she had balled up under the bed was now hanging in front of the fire, drying, and all of the stains were washed away. Her shoes were propped up and drying, and the tray she has expected breakfast to be on contained lunch. There was also a tub with water waiting for her.
Sarah must have found her out. Catherine rose, ate quickly. then let herself sink into the water. She scrubbed herself, trying to wash away the smells from the kitchen, as well as the sweat and hard work from the night before. Would Sarah tell her father that she had been coming home, reeking of a brothel? Catherine felt the food in her stomach knot in anticipation and anxiety of what was to come if Sarah divulged her secret. She had enough worry now that Thomas had discovered her.
Catherine didn’t dare ring the bell once she got out of the bath. She spent the next half hour pacing her room, trying to think of anything to convince Sarah to stay quiet on the matter. When she came to her room, Catherine stopped pacing and looked at her.
“My Lady,” Sarah greeted quietly.
“Sarah.” Catherine bit her lip, wondering how she could explain things. She considered bribing her, but the money she was earning and the allowance was all supposed to go to her travels.
“My Lady, I’ll keep your secret. But I must ask, is what you are doing safe?”
Catherine pondered her question for a moment. Sure, the work was safe enough. People performed those duties on a daily basis, but traveling to and from the White Chapel district was a measured risk.
“Yes. I am perfectly fine, Sarah,” Catherine assured her. There was risk in traveling anywhere. It wouldn’t do to worry her o’er much on the subject.
“My Lady, if you need help of any kind, I could surely think of something. I don’t know what it is you are doing, but judging from the stench of your clothes and the way your hands are worn to the bone, I’d say it is not befitting a Lady.”
“Sarah, please. All I need you to do is keep my secret. I-” But what more could she say? There really was no other explanation. If Sarah didn’t know her intentions explicitly, then if questioned by the Lord Chancellor, she would be faultless in covering up Catherine’s endeavors.
“Very well, my Lady. I’ll not pry into the subject further. I do have a message from the Lord Chancellor. He wishes for you to accompany him and Lord Desmond to the theater tonight.”
“But, I can’t. I-”
“I’m sorry, my Lady. Is there anything else I can assist you with?” Sarah looked earnest, and Catherine regarded her for a long moment.
“Can I trust you to deliver a message for me? I wish no one else to know of it, and the place you need to go is not the best part of London.”
“Yes. Of course, my Lady.”
When Catherine told her to go to Madame Kingston to tell her that she would be late that night, but that she would stay on a few hours later, it elicited the reaction Catherine expected it would.
“You mean to say you’re, you’re a-”
“Oh, no. No, I’ve not fallen that far from grace, Sarah. I simply work there. I clean and wash dishes and the linens for a wage. But no, I don’t participate in the activities of the establishment.” She couldn’t think of any other polite way to put it. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief before becoming vexed again.
“But... why? Why do you put yourself through such rigorous work? You’ve no need to.”
“Sarah, I’m telling you this in the strictest confidence. Can you promise me you won’t tell anyone? Not even my father?” Catherine waited for her response and held her breath. She needed one person she could trust completely. Sarah had never left her, unlike Lord Desmond. He had promised her that he could be trusted, but if he found out where she worked, that could all change. That, and it still begged the question of what he was doing at Madame Kingston’s in the first place.
“I won’t tell anyone, my Lady. Your mother, bless her, did me a kindness taking me in to run the house. It’s the least I can do to repay that.”
“I can’t do it, Sarah. I cannot marry that Baron. I just feel that if I give in, if I let this happen…I’ll lose myself in that marriage somehow. Does that make sense?” Catherine looked at her, pleading with her eyes for Sarah to understand. She knew life was rarely fair. Especially to people in Sarah’s position, who were orphaned or cast out onto the streets. Sarah had been both, and Catherine’s mother took pity and brought her in to train under the departed housekeeper, Mrs. Worther. Catherine guessed what life might look like to someone like Sarah, who had never known wealth or title.
Sarah nodded slowly, and Catherine permitted herself to breath, even for the
slightest moment. Perhaps Sarah would truly be of service to her after all.
“What will you do, my Lady?” she asked softly.
“I suppose I was considering going abroad and becoming a personal tutor or Governess. French families take in English Governesses all the time, and so do we with the French tutors. It is the way the culture is exchanged, I suppose.”
“My Lady, you cannot mean to say you will leave forever?” Sarah’s eyes welled up and Catherine crossed the room. Apart from dressing her and aiding her with menial tasks, Catherine had never shown her affection, but in the moment, she felt it was warranted. She lightly drew Sarah into an embrace.
“Sarah, please understand. I can’t be trapped forever. You know me, even if we have stood apart by the call of social standards. You’re the closest thing I have ever had to a friend.”
“Lord Desmond was once your friend.”
Catherine winced. “Yes, he was. Now I am not sure what he is. He is here on the behalf of his father, so I can’t be sure if that makes him a friend or a foe. I think if he truly found me out, he would be forced to turn me in. I cannot have that.”
“I understand. I will deliver your message. Your mother wanted your happiness. I won’t stand in the way of that.”
“Bless you, Sarah. If my father questions you, I demand you tell him you tried to stop me. I’ll not have you on the streets because of my need for independence. Alright?”
“Very well, my Lady. Lord Chancellor says the carriage will arrive by seven o’clock. I’ll claim that I need to go to the market, and then will deliver your message. Your theater gown is in the back behind the dressing screen.”
“Thank you.”
Sarah curtseyed and left the room, and Catherine finally felt a sense of calm. Hiding from an entire household was definitely more exhausting than just hiding from her father. With Sarah and Thomas keeping her secret, she felt perhaps that her plan might just work.
Catherine decided that it was time to solidify friendships and allies. She went to the door. Her father hadn’t expressly banned her from the rest of the house, so Catherine searched for Thomas to demand an explanation of last night’s encounter. Secretly, though, she hoped for a reenactment of the swift kiss he had given her. She wanted to test the theory that it could be something more. She found him alone, sitting in the same parlor they had been in the day before. Catherine shut the door behind her when she entered the parlor, and turned the lock on the door so it sounded with a click, forcing Thomas to put down the paper he was reading and look up to see her standing there.
The Lord's Elopement (A Rogue's Courtship Book 2) Page 4