Love Me Always

by Marie Higgins

  “Is there anythin’ else I can git ya, gov’na?”

  Nick gave her one of his devastating smiles – the kind he’d been told would send a maid’s heart fluttering out of control. Although he thought her speech needed improvement, she was passively pretty. Her dark blonde hair hung over her shoulders, looking as if it needed to be washed. The baggy cream-colored blouse rode low on one shoulder and the dirty, tattered skirt was not attractive at all, in his opinion.

  “I’d like more wine,” he said nicely and winked.

  “Sure thing.” She hurried away and within minutes brought him another drink.

  He leaned closer to her and grinned, but then someone kicked his shin from underneath the table. Pain shot up his leg. The disapproving glares of his brothers made him pause. The bright red face of the woman sitting between them also reminded him who was in his company at the table. The loud huff from Mrs. Berkley sitting at the end of the bench also let him know he’d be getting an ear boxing from her soon.

  “Are you forgetting our guest?” Gregg’s voice came out low and firm.

  Nick shrugged. “Not at all.”

  “Then would you mind doing that with the serving girl in another time and place?”

  The serving maid walked away, watching Nick over her shoulder. He withdrew his attention from her and glared at Gregg.

  “What troubles you?” Nick snapped. “Has our uncle’s soon-to-be bride not been to an inn before? Am I hurting her tender sensibilities?”

  Catherine’s gaze didn’t leave her food, but her face flamed brighter. She stirred her crust of bread around the plate. A small pang of regret began in his chest. He shouldn’t have said it, but now it was too late. Curse his damaged heart.

  “Nicholas,” Gregg warned, “this is not the time.”

  Mrs. Berkley cleared her throat. “I believe this is not a proper subject, either.”

  Nick shifted his gaze from Gregg to Ian, who still gave condescending looks, then to the embarrassed girl who didn’t meet his eyes.

  “As you wish,” he snapped, pushing himself from the table. “If we are finished with our meals, I’m ready to leave.” He stormed out of the inn, his heart crushing with each step.

  * * * *

  Catherine ran a shaky hand over her heated cheeks as she stared out the window of the carriage, waiting for Mrs. Berkley to join her. The older woman had pulled Nicholas aside after they’d walked out of the inn. Catherine wished she could have heard what her companion said.

  Being in a school for four years had kept Catherine innocent in some things, and she had no idea a man’s smile could be so wicked. But when Nicholas grinned at the serving girl, a flutter grew in Catherine’s chest that just wouldn’t stop.

  She swallowed the lump lodged in her throat. Perhaps it was a good thing Nick didn’t look at her as he’d done the server. Catherine had never seen a man so blindly attractive in her life, and when Nick smiled, he was definitely worth staring at.

  When the carriage door opened, Mrs. Berkley climbed in, as did Gregg and Ian.

  “Is something amiss?” Catherine asked.

  Gregg closed the door and tapped on the roof of the carriage. It lurched into motion. “Nothing of the sort. My brother and I thought you might like some company for a little while. Your maid is riding in one of the wagons.”

  She glanced at Mrs. Berkley who, although she didn’t say anything, nodded her approval.

  Catherine smiled. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

  “You know,” Ian said, “it feels strange conversing with you on an adult level, and I feel I should challenge you to a horse race, or skip rocks with you at the lake.”

  She laughed. “I don’t think there is anything wrong with talking about the past. In fact, I wouldn’t mind it at all.”

  With a loud sigh, Ian relaxed in the seat across from her. “It relieves me to know the girls’ school didn’t change you into a prude like it does most women.”

  Confusion clouded her mind. “Was I supposed to change into a prude?”

  “Yes,” Greg answered. “Most girls I have known who have gone to finishing schools are prudes, and they are not very interesting.”

  Beside her, Mrs. Berkley snorted and rolled her eyes.

  Catherine couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter springing from her chest. “The teachers at the school did try to teach me proper things, but I found the subjects most boring.”

  Gregg and Ian joined together in hearty laughter.

  She shrugged. “That’s probably why I was a great disappointment to most of my teachers. Rarely did I receive praise.”

  Gregg leaned forward in his seat, his knees pushing against hers. “Were you a naughty little girl, Catherine?”

  She smiled wider. “Let me just say I wasn’t exactly the best pupil.”

  Mrs. Berkley glared. Catherine pretended she didn’t see. If she could put the nosey older woman in one of the wagons, she would. Unfortunately, that wasn’t proper.

  Ian leaned forward. “Oh, do tell. What things did you get away with?”

  She bit her lip in hesitation, wondering if Mrs. Berkley would try and stop her. Then again, although there was still a childhood bond with Gregg and Ian, Catherine would soon marry their uncle. Perhaps they expected her to be well trained in the area surrounding her soon-to-be new title as Duchess of Ashton.

  “I think,” she began softly, “if I tell you everything, I might lose your respect.”

  “Catherine.” Gregg patted her hands and smiled. “Can I let you in on a little secret?”

  She nodded.

  “You’ll soon be the wife of a well-respected duke, so you can pretty much carry on as you wish. The ton will kiss your feet, maybe even imitate you once you are married. Most titled ladies are uptight, and men like Ian and myself prefer them to be more open and relaxed like you seem to be. We would rather be with a woman who could make us laugh than one who is so boring she puts us to sleep.”

  She softened her smile. “Thank you for telling me, Gregg. I certainly feel more comfortable disclosing my sordid childhood escapades now.” She snapped her attention to the woman next to her. “As long as Mrs. Berkley does not disapprove.”

  A hint of a grin stretched on the older woman’s face and she nodded. “Carry on.”

  Catherine let out a relieved sigh.

  “So, Catherine, tell us what wild things you did in school,” Ian urged.

  “I had a normal experience, I think, but I had one friend whose reckless encouragement landed me into many tangles with the school authorities. Because of my background, the teachers looked down on me, yet I caught on just as quickly as the other girls. There was one teacher who belittled my friend and me. She had called us both simpleminded twits. Liz and I decided not to take it lightly, so we planned our revenge.”

  Ian and Gregg sat forward, eagerness twinkling in their eyes. She smiled wider then continued. “Usually, the teacher prepared her lessons on the chalkboard ahead of time, so one day Liz and I arrived at the classroom early and changed everything the teacher had written on the board. It wasn’t a drastic change, mind you, but we made it appear as if she were the simple-minded twit because of what we had written. In addition, we purposely misspelled a few words.”

  Both Gregg and Ian whooped with laughter, and it lightened her heart when even old Mrs. Berkley chuckled.

  “It pleases me to see you have a mischievous side,” Gregg said. “I would hate to think the new member of our family had no sense of humor.”

  “Well, Gregg, I’m definitely not a prude. In fact, when the occasion calls, I’m bound to say a few things that might make your ears burn.”

  Both brothers laughed again, falling back on the seat and clutching their sides.

  “You cannot tell anyone,” she reminded.

  “Oh no, Catherine,” Ian promised. “This one will remain with us until our dying day.”

  She smiled. “Good. I’m blessed to have you as friends.” She waited until they had stopped l
aughing, then asked, “Now tell me what kind of sordid pranksters were you?”

  She sat back in her seat and listened as they each related a tale or two. She was also happy to know they weren’t like the snobbish men of wealth she’d heard stories about. Men like Nicholas. Suddenly, the image of Nicholas with dreamy eyes and tender smile interrupted her thoughts and her heart picked up a different rhythm. She thanked her lucky stars he would never look at her that way.

  * * * *

  Shouts and laughter boomed from the coach, and Nick cringed. His brothers made an obscene amount of noise, which meant they found their soon-to-be aunt very amusing. Regret stabbed at him whenever he heard the musical sounds of merriment, and at times he wished he could join them. He couldn’t. Because he was the eldest, he must take charge. Somebody needed to keep this caravan going. It fell upon his shoulders, as it always would, especially once his uncle died.

  Since Grant hadn’t fathered any children, Nick was next in line to inherit the dukedom. He wasn’t worried about stepping into his new position, but he doubted he could handle it with as much skill as Grant had. Nick hoped he could contain his out-of-control brothers and keep them from gambling away their allowances.

  Nick paused in thought and chuckled to himself. What was he thinking? His uncle was a great businessman and had tripled the family fortune since Nick was a small lad. Grant had taught Nick well, and he was confident he could continue to build his inheritance.

  But where would Catherine live after his uncle died? Nick certainly didn’t want her living in the same house with him and his brothers. What a scandal that would make. It wouldn’t matter to society if she were their step-aunt. Catherine’s young age and beauty overrode that. Yet, he couldn’t toss her out and send her elsewhere to live.

  For Nick’s own well-being he couldn’t have her that close knowing she would always be out of his grasp.

  A commotion behind him pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned. The coach stopped and his brothers climbed out. This would be a good time to have a talk with Catherine to tell her of Uncle Grant’s condition.

  He pulled his horse around and to the coach before dismounting. He ignored the drawn brows from his brothers, and tossed one of the servants the reins. Nick walked to the vehicle and peered inside. Once Catherine saw him, her cheeks darkened. His presence must still rattle her. They were evenly matched then.

  “Good afternoon,” he greeted nicely. “Is it permissible to ride with you for a spell? It’s most important we discuss some things before we reach home.”

  She nodded.

  He climbed in and sat on the seat across from her. Mrs. Berkley gave him a curt nod, then turned and looked out the window.

  For the first few moments, silence crackled through the air as he searched for the words to say. Catherine squirmed in her seat, then straightened her back and lifted her chin.

  She cleared her throat. “Are we almost there?”

  He tried to ignore the heavenly lift of her voice. “We’ll arrive at the estate first thing in the morning.”

  Her eyebrows drew together. “Do you plan on traveling through the night?”

  “No, Miss Martin. There are too many highwaymen ready to nab wealthy people once the sun sets, and I don’t plan on giving them that opportunity. We shall stop at an inn.”

  “Oh.”

  “Miss Martin, the reason I need to talk with you is—”

  “Please, call me Catherine like you did when we were younger.”

  He really didn’t want to think about those days, but nodded. “As you wish.” He swallowed hard. “Anyway, the reason I need to talk with you is because I feel it’s my responsibility to inform you about my uncle.” He paused briefly to collect his thoughts. “Has anyone told you he’s ill?”

  She nodded. “Gregg and Ian mentioned he’s been under the weather lately, which is the reason he couldn’t come for me himself.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s more serious than that. I don’t think Gregg or Ian know exactly how ill our uncle is.”

  “How serious is he?”

  Nick pushed his fingers through the thickness of his hair and relaxed against the seat, meeting her big, questioning violet eyes. “Uncle Grant is dying.”

  She sucked in her breath. Even Mrs. Berkley snapped her head his way.

  He continued in a softer tone. “He has been sick for the past year, and his health is slowly declining. Lately, he’s been so gravely ill he’s needed the constant care of his personal nurse.”

  “Why?” Catherine’s voice broke.

  “For some reason, the disease is slowly taking away his sight.”

  Her hands trembled so she clutched them together and held them against her stomach. “How…how…long....”

  “I don’t know and neither do the physicians.”

  She shook her head. “If he’s dying, then why...why does he still want to marry me?”

  He shrugged. “I cannot answer that. My uncle realizes he’s dying, but he will not listen to me. I have tried to get him to see the situation he’s placing you in, but he refuses to listen. He says he wants his last days to be shared with a beautiful woman who will make him happy.”

  An ashen color crept over her cheeks and her eyes grew wide.

  His heart clenched. She did care about his uncle. What an idiot Nick had been to assume otherwise. Grant had spoiled her as a young girl, even sent her to the best finishing school England had to offer.

  “Catherine, might I ask you a personal question?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have already mentioned I could hear your voice raised in anger when I first arrived at your cottage.”

  The color moved to cover the rest of her face, going a shade darker.

  “Although I couldn’t hear every word, I received the impression you were not pleased with something.”

  Mrs. Berkley straightened and cleared her throat. He really wished she’d leave, but he didn’t want his ears verbally boxed again. Catherine glanced at her companion before meeting his eyes.

  “Indeed, I was displeased.” Her voice softened.

  “What are your feelings in regards to marrying the duke?”

  She lowered her gaze as she grasped her hands so tight her knuckles turned white. “I’m extremely disappointed to think my parents arranged my intended marriage without my consent.”

  He nodded. “As I’m certain you have surmised, I also disapprove of my uncles forthcoming nuptials. But I need to know if you will put your fears and anger aside and make Uncle Grant happy in his final days.”

  He snapped his mouth closed. What had he just asked? Did he really mean that? Yet as much as he disliked seeing the girl of his childhood dreams marry someone else, Grant Fielding’s happiness was most important.

  She blinked her wide eyes. “I—I—I was led to believe that my visit would be to see if the duke and I suited.”

  “Yes, I know, but if the marriage takes place, will you then try to make him happy? I remember several years back when we had come to visit and he brought you gifts. Just seeing your smile brightened his day.”

  Tears formed in her eyes and her jaw tightened. “Yes. I shall try my best to please him.” Her voice shook.

  Nick released a heavy sigh and squeezed her clasped hands. “Thank you, Catherine.”

  “May I now ask you something of a personal nature?”

  Wary about her request, he slowly nodded. “Proceed.”

  “I know I have done something to upset you, but for your uncle’s sake can you at least try and be civil toward me? Can you not look at me without scowling?”

  He snatched his hand away. He couldn’t promise that. Hiding his broken heart behind the wall of anger was the only way to mask his feelings. “It’s irrelevant how I look at you. My uncle will probably not even see.”

  “True, but he will notice a change in the way I act around you, and he will most certainly wonder why.”

  Nick huffed and glanced out the window, hoping she’d end the
subject. If she only knew...

  “Please?” she continued. “Your brothers don’t seem to have a problem with being my friend, so why not you? If only for appearance sake?”

  After a few awkward moments, Nick turned and met her stare. Her blue eyes were wide and pleading. Why was he going to give in? And why was his heart softening the longer he looked at her? “Very well, I will. But mind you, it will only happen in front of my uncle.”

  She smiled – genuinely smiled – and the wall of ice he’d constructed around his heart cracked. Even though she made a lovely picture, which he could lose himself in, discomfort settled deep in his gut. Suddenly the coach became extremely small and cramped.