Lucien laughed. “How heartless of you to speak of age, Kate, when I am seven years your senior.”
“But you’re a man. It’s entirely different.”
He sobered. “Well, if you ask me, you’ll still be beautiful fifty years from now.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “What about sixty years from now?”
He appeared to ponder that quite seriously and eventually said, “Hmm . . . I’m not convinced your looks will last for quite that long.”
She slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “You’re a beast!”
“I am only trying to be honest,” he said, sounding affronted. “I thought you’d appreciate that.”
“Well then, Lucien, since you’re being so honest, why don’t you tell me what you’re really hoping to accomplish by chasing after Lady Julie, since you say you’re not intending to marry her.”
Taking Katherine by the arm, he led her back inside the house and toward the parlor. “I believe I said I hadn’t made a decision yet either way.”
“But you cannot continue to act as if you’re courting her unless marriage is your goal. It isn’t honest, and frankly, I fear for her feelings,” Katherine insisted. She couldn’t believe that Lucien would be so heartless as to give a lady false expectations.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, my dear.” They arrived in the parlor and he guided her toward the sofa, where she took a seat while he remained standing. “For you see, it has come to my attention that Lady Julie might be happier with someone else.”
“Oh, Lucien,” Katherine gasped, inadvertently reaching for his hand and squeezing it with her own. “I’m so sorry. She seemed so taken with you.”
He grimaced, then raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. She shuddered. “Perhaps we should use that as a reminder that things aren’t always as they appear,” he said as his breath brushed over her, filling her with warmth. He straightened. “I will bid you a good day now, Kate, for I must return home. Will you allow me to visit you again tomorrow?”
“I will look forward to it,” she said as he straightened himself and took his leave.
Chapter 9
Awakened that night by a muffled sound coming from Sophia’s room, Katherine threw back her covers and started to rise, intent on checking on her daughter. Most likely, her feet had gotten tangled in her blanket again, as was often the case these days, for she was turning into quite the restless sleeper. But an out-of-place rustling gave Katherine pause, and her increased heart rate warned her to beware. Reaching for the drawer of her nightstand, she swiftly snatched up the pistol her father had given her after Charles’s death when she’d mentioned how secluded she’d felt in the massive house. “Who would stop a potential intruder?” she’d asked.
“One of your footmen, most likely,” her father had said.
The words hadn’t appeased her. Things had changed now that she had a child to protect.
“Take this, then,” her father had said as he’d handed her the pistol. “It will ease your concerns, having this by your bedside.”
Holding the weapon steady, Katherine now approached the room where her daughter slept. Fearful of what she might find, she prayed that it was merely her imagination playing havoc with her senses.
It was not. As she held her breath and peered through the darkness, she saw a slim figure dressed in breeches and a tight-fitting jacket silhouetted against the window, his posture slightly hunched as he stood over Sophia’s crib. A chill flew down Katherine’s spine, but she steeled herself, wary of acting rashly and putting Sophia at risk. For now, at least, it appeared as if the stranger was merely watching her sleep, though Katherine dared not contemplate his reason for breaking into Sophia’s room in the middle of the night. Nevertheless, Katherine decided to wait and gauge his intent, hoping that he would eventually distance himself enough from the crib to provide a clear shot, should that be necessary.
It felt as if an eternity passed, though it was probably no more than a minute before the stranger turned and started in Katherine’s direction. Backing up, Katherine returned with silent footfalls to her room, raised her pistol and aimed it at the doorway. She waited until the man came into view, then said, “I suggest you make your intentions known before I put a hole in you.”
There was a beat of silence as the stranger froze, no doubt contemplating his next move. Katherine stared back at him, her concentration pinned on his hands. One of them was slightly concealed from her line of vision, so it was impossible for her to tell if he carried a weapon.
“I don’t suppose we can just pretend this never happened?” the stranger asked.
Katherine took a sharp breath. She’d been so certain that it was a young man, from what little she’d been able to discern of the clothing, but the voice belonged to a woman—a noblewoman, judging from her aristocratic tone. Clenching her jaw, Katherine tightened her hold on the pistol and shook her head. “No,” she said.
The woman tilted her head. “Well, in that case, I suppose I shall have to take what I came for.”
Katherine had no chance to ask what that might be as the woman dropped to the floor, rolled over and vanished to the opposite side of the bed. The next sound Katherine heard was the soft click of a pistol being cocked. They were equally armed, but the other woman had one advantage—she knew exactly where Katherine was standing.
Lowering herself quietly to the floor, Katherine edged her way around to the foot of the bed, then paused to listen. All was silent. With her heart pounding in her chest, Katherine looked across at her dressing table, her eyes concentrating on the mirror that was sitting on top of it. It was difficult to see anything of significance, given how dark the room was, but she kept her eyes on it anyway as she continued to listen for the slightest sound, attempting all the while to keep her breathing low and even. A moment passed, then a sudden flicker of movement caught her eye. Katherine focused on the spot on the mirror where she’d seen it and immediately noticed it again, ever so slight but enough to reveal the woman’s location.
Sitting quietly, with her pulse rapidly thumping in her throat, Katherine was still trying to figure out how to subdue the intruder and divest her of her weapon when she heard the woman move. Looking at the mirror, Katherine could no longer see her, and this unsettled her. She didn’t enjoy the idea of being caught by surprise.
Carefully raising her head, Katherine peered over the edge of the bed and squinted through the darkness. It only took her a second to spot the dark outline of the woman who was now standing in the far corner of the room. Raising her pistol as silently as she could manage so she could support it against the bed, Katherine prepared to fire a wounding shot.
To her surprise, the woman was swiftly across the floor, making Katherine’s aim exceedingly difficult. But then the woman paused, as if something had caught her attention. It took Katherine no more than a second to realize that she had seen her reflection in the same mirror.
Acting on instinct, Katherine flung herself against the floor just as the woman pulled the trigger and fired at her, stirring the air with a thunderous roar. A wail arose from the adjoining room as Sophia awoke, but Katherine paid her daughter no mind this time. Instead, she leapt to her feet, raised her own pistol with lightning speed, aimed and fired, evoking an anguished yell from the woman, who immediately dropped to the floor.
Not sparing her another thought, Katherine raced from the room, locking the door firmly behind her. Grabbing Sophia from her crib, Katherine hugged her tightly against her chest. She was just about to ring for Carter when the door to Sophia’s chamber burst open and the man in question materialized before her with Mrs. Burke, the housekeeper, and a footman named Thomas in tow. “Forgive the intrusion, my lady,” he said, looking rather sleepy-eyed, “but I could have sworn I heard a shot.”
“So you did,” Katherine said, her voice sounding awfully shaky. Thankful
ly, Sophia’s cries had lessened to a mere whimper as she snuggled her head against her mother’s neck. It wouldn’t take long before she was sleeping peacefully again. “A woman broke in. She fired at me, but her aim was off, so she missed, upon which I shot her. She’s in there.” Katherine nodded toward her bedroom. “I locked the door so she wouldn’t be able to escape, though I’m not even sure that she’s still alive.”
“Dear me,” Mrs. Burke said, looking ashen. “Thankfully you and Lady Sophia are unharmed, but what on earth are we to do about the woman you shot?”
“We’re going to have to open the door and take a look at her,” Carter said. “Thomas and I will see to it.” He handed the oil lamp he’d brought with him to Mrs. Burke, who turned up the light before setting the lamp on a small table.
Staying back, her whole body trembling, Katherine watched as Carter and Thomas unlocked her bedroom door and peered inside the room. “We’ll need another lamp, Mrs. Burke, but it appears as if the intruder is lying motionless on the floor.”
Katherine shivered. Surely she hadn’t killed the woman? She waited while Mrs. Burke lit another lamp and handed it to Carter, then Katherine stepped hesitantly forward in order to get a better look. “Good heavens!”
Raising his head, Carter looked up at Katherine from beneath a pair of bushy eyebrows. “Do you know her, by any chance?”
“I . . . yes, I believe so, though not very well. Is she dead?” Her voice sounded faint to her own ears.
“No, she’s alive and will be on her feet in no time,” Carter said. He turned the woman’s head to the side and peered down at the back of it. “Your shot only clipped the side of her chest, my lady. Looks like she knocked herself unconscious when she fell to the floor—most likely on the nightstand, I’d imagine. In any case, she has a nasty gash right here on her head, so she’ll probably wake up to a horrible headache.”
“What should we do with her?” Thomas asked, looking at Katherine.
Katherine looked at each of her servants in turn and realized that they were all waiting for her to advise them on how to proceed. Her heart was still beating ridiculously fast, and she was still clutching Sophia in her arms, most likely taking as much comfort in the embrace as her daughter was. “Well, I . . . I suppose we ought to alert the authorities.” Thomas yawned, as did Carter. “However, since it is the middle of the night and she hasn’t been mortally wounded, perhaps we ought to wait with that until morning. What do you think, Carter? Does that sound reasonable?”
“A splendid idea, my lady,” Carter said.
“Well, in that case I think we should probably put her in a locked room for now so she can’t get into any more trouble.”
“And which room would you suggest?” Carter asked.
Katherine looked at him. “I don’t know . . . somewhere she cannot escape from, I suppose, and without any items that she might be able to use to her advantage.”
“We could always tie her up,” Thomas said.
“Good heavens,” Mrs. Burke said. “We’re not that barbaric, surely.”
“Indeed we’re not,” Katherine said, “yet we mustn’t forget that she came armed into our home in the dead of night and didn’t hesitate to fire her pistol at me. We would be fools to trust her, so as much as I dislike the thought of restraining anyone, I believe that Thomas has the right of it. We will bind her wrists and ankles and place her in the cellar . . . perhaps in the butler’s pantry, if you will allow it, Carter?”
Carter nodded. “I was thinking of it myself, my lady. The room can be secured, and with the china locked away in the plate closet, there isn’t much of anything for her to use as a possible weapon—especially not if she’s been tied up.”
“It’s settled, then,” Katherine said. Going back into her daughter’s room, she walked across to the crib and carefully returned Sophia to the comfort of her mattress. “I trust there must be some rope in the stables that you can use?”
“I’ll fetch some right away,” Thomas said, heading for the door.
“In the meantime,” Carter said, rising from his position next to the unconscious woman and walking across to where one of the pistols was lying, “I suggest we reload this thing in case we need it.”
“Must we really?” Mrs. Burke asked, looking not the least bit comforted about the prospect of being in the vicinity of a loaded pistol.
“As her ladyship has pointed out to us, this woman, whoever she may be, poses a threat. I intend to get some answers out of her, and I do believe she’ll be more cooperative if I happen to be pointing this at her.” Carter swiped the pistol off the floor and glanced at it briefly before looking at Katherine. “I’ll need powder and shot, if you please.”
Half an hour later, the intruder had been tied and gagged and carried down to the butler’s pantry, where Carter and Thomas had placed her on a small cot that they’d brought in from the storage room. “Thomas has agreed to guard her for the next two hours, at which point I will relieve him until you rise, my lady,” Carter reported to Katherine before adding, “may I suggest a glass of brandy to calm your nerves and help you rest?”
Katherine nodded. “Yes, thank you, Carter. I believe that would be most helpful.”
“Will that be all, my lady?” Mrs. Burke asked once Carter had provided Katherine with the promised drink.
“Yes, thank you for being so helpful. I’ll see you both in the morning.”
“Well, just ring if you need anything, my lady,” Mrs. Burke added as she and Carter exited the room, leaving Katherine alone with Sophia. Katherine doubted she’d get any more rest that night, for she was still quite shaken by the events that had taken place. Yet the brandy must have done the trick, for it wasn’t long after she’d climbed back into bed that she drifted off to sleep.
“Lord Roxberry to see you, my lady,” Carter announced the following morning just as Katherine was finishing her breakfast. She’d been planning to go and check on her prisoner, intent on hearing her story before they called the constable, but that would clearly have to wait.
“You may show him into the parlor,” she replied. “I’ll be with him shortly.”
Katherine stifled a groan as she took a sip of her tea. When Lucien had suggested he call on her again today, she’d looked forward to it, but so much had happened since then that she’d actually managed to forget he was coming. Her body heated and tingled. She’d been distraught after their recent outings, unable to understand why her stomach fluttered or her heart pounded in response to his slightest touch. Her troubled thoughts on the matter had not lessened as she’d lain in bed the previous evenings, wondering what it might be like if he felt the same way . . . what his lips might feel like pressed against her own.
She chastised herself for contemplating such a possibility even as her body began to ache with need. Dear God, she hadn’t felt such longing in years, and to feel it now for Lucien was making her most uncomfortable, particularly since, too fearful of what she risked losing, she would never be able to act on it. Besides, he’d probably never see her as anything more than the girl he’d given piggyback rides to when she’d been little. She clenched her jaw. How on earth had this happened? Perhaps his grandmother was right and she should take a lover.
No, she hadn’t the courage to undress in front of any man. Not anymore.
Taking one last sip of her tea, she considered her current dilemma—getting rid of Lucien so she could deal with the fact that she was holding a lady hostage in her cellar. Deciding that there was nothing for it but to get on with the matter at hand, she got up from the table and headed for the parlor.
“Good morning, Kate,” Lucien said the moment she entered. “Ready for a dash across the English countryside? The weather’s perfect for that race we’ve been discussing, and since neither Mr. Goodard nor Lady Julie appear to be joining us, I thought you might be up to it.”
“About that . . .
I fear something unexpected has happened.”
“Oh? Nothing serious I hope.” With a frown, he stepped toward her and peered at her face. “Now that I think of it, you do look rather pale. Are you ill?”
“No, I’m actually perfectly fine,” she said, willing him to drop the subject and be on his way, but that was of course too much to ask of Lucien.
“And I’m the king of Russia,” he said.
“Russia doesn’t have a king,” Katherine told him carefully. “They have an emperor.”
“Precisely! Now, are you going to tell me what’s really going on, or am I going to have to lure it out of you? I have special techniques specifically designed for such a thing, and I’m really quite eager to employ them.”
Katherine sighed, and Lucien’s frown deepened when his joke failed to elicit the slightest bit of laughter from her. “Good God,” he said. “Something’s really troubling you. Just tell me what it is and I’ll do whatever I can to help.” When she hesitated, he placed his hand on her arm and looked into her eyes. “I mean it, Kate.”
She hadn’t planned to share last night’s incident with him—or with anyone else, for that matter—until she knew more about the break-in and the reason behind it. From the looks of it, one of the windows had been unlatched. But Katherine had to admit that there was something very comforting about having Lucien there with her, so she found herself nodding and saying, “Very well. If you were serious about those techniques of yours, then by all means, follow me.”
Whatever Lucien thought Katherine might show him, he was not prepared to find a woman tied and gagged in her cellar—least of all the Countess of Trapleigh.
Holy bloody hell!
He looked at Katherine, who was standing very still at his side. “I’m guessing there’s a good explanation for this?” he said.
She nodded, then related the details of what had happened, while Lucien did his best to maintain a calm demeanor. “My butler has made the occasional effort to get her to talk, but his attempts have been unsuccessful so far. Each time he removed the gag, she started screaming. Eventually he thought it best to keep it in place so she wouldn’t distress the other servants.”
The Danger in Tempting an Earl Page 12