“Aye,” Katalin’s father answered, irritation bristling his face.
Her mother tapped her own chin, her eyes falling back on Katalin. “We shall see. Katalin, you named her?”
“Aye.”
“Also odd. But curious. That may also do us well. Mystery.” She cleared her throat, taking a step away from Katalin. “I have arranged for an early dinner with our hosts, Lord and Lady Southfork. Lady Southfork is your cousin, Katalin—my sister’s daughter. You will also meet the Duke and Duchess of Dunway. They have also graciously agreed to help us. All have been apprised of the situation and your history, and all have promised the utmost discretion.”
She moved to the double doors of the drawing room. “Let us dine. I need to assess your base knowledge of manners and polite conversation.”
Katalin turned, staring at the back of the tight, dark chignon in front of her as her mother moved out of the room.
She glanced at her father, her eyes wide.
He shrugged. This was as bizarre to him, as it was to her.
Katalin moved forward, and he followed, his cane hitting the floor harder than usual as he leaned to her ear. “Chin up, lass. This will get better.”
Katalin could only give a weak smile, holding back tears that threatened.
She hadn’t known what to expect when meeting her mother for the very first time, but clearly, it wasn’t this.
What had she wanted? A hug? Tears? A hello?
At the very least, the smallest modicum of emotion from this woman that was clearly her mother. She had to admit that she had expected that.
Katalin took a deep breath, keeping her steps even as she tried to drain back tears that threatened. She already knew the slightest drop slipping down her face would not be looked upon kindly.
She suffered through the dinner. Blindly answering questions that were asked of her by her cousin, the duke, the duchess, and the marquess. None from her mother.
All were more than pleasant, but Katalin was acutely aware the entire time of her mother’s eyes constantly on her. Silently judging every word she spoke. Every bite she took.
Exhausting. Utterly exhausting.
She needed air.
{ Chapter 12 }
Nightfall quickly approached, and Jason pushed his horse, stepping up the pace. He had gotten a late start from London, but still hoped to arrive at Curplan before darkness. He needed to confer with Devin and Killian while he still had the memory of the night before fresh in his mind.
He had been at the tables next to Lord Walton at the Horn’s Rooster. Lord Walton had been deep in his cups, so deep, he had been bragging about a merchant ship that had, with some encouragement, conveniently sunk while traveling through one of the main shipping lanes in the Caribbean.
Convenient, because the merchant ship was one in direct competition with Lord Walton’s shipping company. But the ship that had sunk was one in the fleet of the D&S Shipping Company. The company Jason had quite a large stake in, and not as important as the fact that it was the Duke of Dunway’s company—and the duke was his brother-in-law.
Walton must not have noticed Jason, or, if he did, must have thought Jason too drunk to understand what was happening around him.
Granted, Jason was near to it, close to passing out—but he had held onto Lord Walton’s words until they had made sense in the morning. And once Jason had assured himself he had heard right, he had cleaned himself up and headed straight to Curplan to talk to the duke and Southfork.
Jason also had a niggling fear that, drunk, he had been loose-lipped in the past about shipping schedules and cargo around Lord Walton, and that he was the direct cause of the latest mishap with the ship.
But that, he would have to handle later.
With a quick glance at the setting sun, Jason veered his horse off the main road into the woods, taking a direct cut-through trail to the main hall of Curplan.
A half mile from the hall, Jason left the woods, slowing as he entered the manicured area of the estate. He followed the tree line in the direction of the main stables, but then, to his left, movement caught his eye.
A woman walked down the slight hill to Curplan’s small pond, lined by willow trees. He could only see the back of her.
Light hued hair, it was hard to tell the exact color in the dimming light. Her sleeveless, grey dress was far too thin for the current September chill.
Even though it was only the back of her, there was something oddly familiar. Something in the way her body moved. Her gait.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
Heart suddenly thundering, Jason stopped his horse, tossing the reins over a low branch and loosely tying them.
He slipped into the woods, stalking through the forest to the far end of the pond. Hidden, he was still too far away, couldn’t clearly see her as she stood behind a wrought iron bench at the edge of the water, hands gripping the top back of the seat, her head down.
Jason rounded the pond in the cover of the willow trees, quietly slipping through the low-hanging branches.
The second he was close enough to see her clearly, even in the fading light, he froze.
He stood, mesmerized, not believing his own eyes.
Katalin.
Her hair, still long, half piled on her head, half draping down her back, was darker, but still multi-colored, the red giving way to blond. Her skin was lighter, less tan than on the ship, and Jason could see her arms, her body, still held lean muscle that identified her as more than a simple lady, even though she was dressed as one.
She moved around the bench and sat, kicking a rock in front of her into the water. It disrupted the calm, sending water rings across the surface, rolling into the swans that squawked by the far edge. She watched the water until the rings disappeared and then sat back on the bench, her eyes scanning the trees.
Her eyes passed over him, pausing for a moment as she looked through the willow branches. Jason was sure she saw him.
But in the next instant, her head bowed, and Jason could see her shoulders shaking. Shaking violently.
He made no movement toward her.
Her head whipped up, and for a long while, her eyes stayed closed, tears streaming.
She cracked her eyes slowly, and the moment she saw him again, she crumbled.
If Jason had any doubt it was truly her, it vanished the instant he heard her voice.
“Just go. Go, Jase. Please. Please go. I cannot continue to see you everywhere I look.” Her voice cracked with a sob. “You cannot continue to do this to me. Not now. Not when I have to go through this. Please—please just leave me alone. Go.”
She closed her eyes, dropping her head again. She stayed this way, tears dripping from her face for minutes until Jason saw her chest rise and fall with several deep breaths.
And still he stood, unable to move.
Lifting her head, she opened her eyes to him once more. Her head began to shake before the words came.
“No. No. No. This is not fair, Jason. Not when I open my damn eyes. You already have my damn dreams. You cannot do this to me. You cannot continue this torture.”
She stood, fists at her sides as her yell escalated in his direction. “Damn you, Jase. You cannot haunt me like this. No. Not here. I cannot do this now. Not now. Not after her. You have followed me for years and I cannot undo the past. I cannot. I would…I would give anything—everything—to undo it.”
A sudden gasp jolted her body, and she doubled over as though struck, hand over mouth, as she staggered back, hitting the bench. Her head shook. “No, not that. Not that. Not that.”
Her words faded as she crumpled in half, collapsing onto the bench. Sobs racked her body as she buried her face in her hands.
Breath held, Jason slipped backward, removing himself from her view.
He moved to far end of the pond again, hiding in the whispering trees, watching her.
For at least an hour, from fading light to darkness, she sobbed, rocking herself. Until,
with what looked like immense effort, she finally pushed herself to standing and started to trudge up the hill to the main hall.
Jason watched her until she was out of view, heart still pounding in his chest.
What the hell was Katalin doing at Curplan?
And what the hell had happened to her?
~~~
Katalin stood through six hours of the dressmaker draping and poking. Six hours of listening to her mother run through lists and rules.
Lists of the peerage. How the hierarchy worked. Whom to address when. Proper topics of discussion. How not to slight a dowager duchess. The correct posture on a settee. How to politely exit from a handsy dance partner. The optimum depth of a curtsy.
It went on and on.
Katalin retained as much of it as she could, but was secretly grateful for the dressmaker forcing her into one position. It gave her a reason to not have her eyes on her mother the entire day, pretending interest in every nuance Katalin would ever need to survive in this ridiculous world of London society.
The duchess and Katalin’s cousin popped in and out through the day, and Katalin found each of them a welcome relief from her mother’s judging hawk eyes. Katalin could already tell that she wanted to know more about both of them—they struck her as interesting women. As Katalin’s life had always been mostly barren of women her age, she found them intriguing novelties.
But conversation in front of her mother was impossible. Impossible because her mother had only one mission—make Katalin presentable for society. Even if it was what Katalin needed for survival, she hadn’t anticipated it would be this hard, or that the confidence she had always had in abundance would desert her so quickly under her mother’s scrutinizing eyes.
If only her life didn’t depend on it. All she really wanted was to go back to her father’s island, to have her family back.
At least she hadn’t seen Jason’s ghost today. Small favor. Since arriving in England, he had visited her constantly in her dreams, but that was to be expected—this was the land he loved. The land he had needed to get back to.
But aside from yesterday, and the moment at the docks where she saw his ghost, he hadn’t visited her while she was awake since she left her father’s island.
She saw him often on Snakehorn.
Walking on a beach. Sometimes on a ship stopping for haven. She had been comfortable with the sightings of Jason. She knew he wasn’t real and didn’t really care whether he was a true ghost or just an aberration her overactive imagination conjured. Either way, she had always been comforted by seeing him.
Especially when she was sad or lonely or tired. She missed him so much. And seeing him always lifted her soul.
Until last night.
Last night he looked so real. So breathing. So vivid. And he was dressed so differently. Dapper in a gentleman’s coat. He had never come to her like that, and she had never imagined him like that.
It scared her.
She knew she was here to move on with life—she had to, or she could very well be hanged. But seeing him like that—it terrified her. Terrified her because she didn’t want to lose her memories of him, and if he appeared to her like that, it only meant she was losing memory of him.
She needed to move on. But she couldn’t lose him. Lose his memory. She couldn’t.
A pin jabbed her shoulder, and Katalin twitched. The dressmaker was as tired as she was, and had long since stopped apologizing for rogue pins.
Katalin shifted off of her left foot that had fallen asleep as her mother moved in front of her.
She looked Katalin up and down. “That shall do for today. Your first set of dresses will give them enough to work on for several days,” she said with a quick clap of her hands. “We have a short break before dinner is to be called. Please freshen yourself and be dressed within the hour. I do believe Reanna had several gowns of hers moved to your room. They should fit fairly well.”
“Yes, thank you.” Katalin nodded as her mother turned and exited the room.
Katalin waited patiently as the blue silk wrapping her body was carefully removed, pins dragging across her skin.
~~~
Katalin stepped into the drawing room next to the dining hall. Pre-dinner wine looked to be in the hands of everyone. Her father and mother were in deep discussion in the corner. Her father did not look pleased, and her mother had the usual pinched look on her face.
Katalin needed to avoid whatever that was.
She scanned the room for escape, and it came in the form of her cousin spying her and coming forth to grab her elbow.
“Katalin, I am so pleased—that dress is wonderful on you. While turquoise does me well, forest green has never been my color, though I do keep trying it in hopes that it will somehow work with my hair and coloring.” Lady Southfork smiled, leaning toward Katalin as she steered her into the room. “I am always dreadfully disappointed, so I am delighted this gown has found a much happier home on your body. It is truly quite perfect with your lighter hair, and it does not make you look at all yellow, which is my problem.”
“Thank you.” Katalin smiled, somewhat flummoxed at the conversation. She did not usually regard clothes—save for keeping private things hidden in an appropriate manner—much less talk about them in conversation. Females were so very different to be around.
“We will be dining in a few minutes. Would you like some madeira?”
“Please, Lady Southfork.”
The warmest smile came from her cousin. “While I appreciate the effort in politeness—no doubt a direct result of my aunt’s haranguing—you are my cousin, and I hope, soon to be friend, and I would be offended if you did not call me Reanna.”
“Of course, but only if you call me Katalin. My mother has been stressing the importance of titles, and I did not want to offend you.”
“It does take quite a bit to offend me.” Reanna winked at her. “So you are in safe waters with me.”
Katalin smiled, grateful for the genuine kindness her cousin extended. Looking about the room as Reanna retrieved her a glass of madeira, Katalin found the rest of the party, the duke and duchess, the marquess, and a man she did not know, standing in animated conversation in the middle of the room. She looked curiously at the back of the man. All eyes in the little group were on the newcomer, and the duke and the marquess did not look pleased. They looked, in fact, murderous.
The duchess leaned forward, her hand touching the man’s arm. She was agitated, but not nearly as lethal as the others.
Reanna’s eyes followed Katalin’s as she handed her a wine glass. She gave a deep sigh. “That appears to need interruption. My husband looks as though he is going to hit something, or someone.” She slipped her hand under Katalin’s elbow. “Come, you are the perfect diversion. I can introduce you to the duchess’s brother.”
Reanna stepped into the group, blatantly cutting the low voices into silence. With a sweet smile, she tugged Katalin closer.
“Lord Clapinshire, I would—”
At that moment, Katalin saw whom she was to be introduced to, and her glass dropped, the shatter echoing in the room.
Silence throbbed around them.
Silence Katalin did not notice as she walked forward, both hands outstretched. She stopped in front of the man—Lord Clapinshire—shock moving her limbs without conscious thought.
Her hands went onto his face, moving from his cheeks to his eyes to his nose to his chin to the scar that lined the length of his face. Over and over his skin they ran.
He did not step away, did not flinch or avoid her hands. He only stared at her.
With not so much as a gasp, Katalin passed out, dropping like a cannon ball.
~~~
Jason caught her before her head hit the floor, lifting her fully into his arms.
“Do you have her, Clapinshire?” Killian asked.
“I do,” Jason said, refusing to let his eyes go down to her face. It was bad enough his arms were all over her. Touching her—letting
her touch him—his anger at her multiplied tenfold.
“Is she addled, Mr. Dewitt?” Lady Pentworth asked, her eyes sharp on Katalin. “You did not tell me of this.”
“No. The girl has a stronger spine than, dare I say, yours, Maureen. I have never seen her even close to the debacle I just witnessed, much less dropping to blackness like that.” He drained his glass of wine.
Jason turned to his sister and the marchioness. “Aggie, Lady Southfork, this lady does not appear to be awakening, perhaps you two can show me where to deposit her?”
“Yes, yes, of course. I apologize for her actions, Lord Clapinshire. I have no explanation for what she just did.” Lady Southfork set her wine glass down on the nearest table and gathered her skirts, hurrying to the door. “You are very kind to be so patient with her. Come, let us bring her up to her room.”
Lady Southfork hurried out of the room, his sister at her heels. Jason followed, shifting his arms under Katalin for a better grip.
In the hallway, away from all gawking eyes, Jason lost the fight against the exact thing he was trying to avoid, and he glanced down at Katalin’s face.
Long lashes closed, her face had softened, losing the shock of seeing him. Her mouth, cheeks, forehead, relaxed, peaceful—just as she had always been when sleeping on top of him. She still smelled of tangerines. Nearly two years of trying to kill her memory, and the mere smell of her brought back every moment they had together.
Perfect. She was still damn perfect.
Jason’s jaw flexed against her beauty. Still perfect—and still the woman that had condemned him to hang.
His eyes left her face, concentrating on the swishing skirts going up the stairs in front of him.
Katalin was here for a reason. He just had to find out what that reason was and then make sure he was far, far away from it, and from her.
Touching her body, it was already obvious his hands would have a hard time overriding his own good sense. Good sense that told him to make sure Katalin never entered his life again.
Hold Your Breath 03 - My Captain, My Earl Page 11