His Perfect Lady

by Jenn Langston

  The scent of lavender hit Jonathan like a punch in the chest. Catherine had smelled of the delicate flower the last time he’d held her in his arms. Lavender and rain. He couldn’t think of anything more potent.

  “Lord Linwood?” The gentle tug on his arm brought him back to the present. “Have I lost you again?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Glace. What was it you asked?”

  “I just wanted to know what color you plan on wearing to the ball. If you don’t mind, I would like to don a similar shade.”

  Surprised, Jonathan gaped at her now-red face. Although he’d never paid attention to such things in the past, he wasn’t sure matching would give the right impression. On the other hand, making a statement about their connection seemed necessary. Only he didn’t know if or to what degree he was prepared to move forward.

  She was sweet, soft-spoken, and would make any man a good wife. He just didn’t know if he was any man. Logically he knew he should get married, but in practice, he didn’t know if he could do it. After two weeks of seeing her almost every day, he’d hoped to be closer to having an answer.

  “I haven’t decided on a particular color,” Jonathan answered.

  “Oh.” Miss Glace turned her attention back to their surroundings. “It’s that other woman. Isn’t it?”

  Jonathan jerked to a stop. Miss Glace faced him, arching a delicate brow. Her eyes indicated denial would be futile. How could he explain his heart belonged to another? That she would never mean to him what Catherine did?

  “She is irrelevant.”

  Miss Glace offered him a sympathetic smile. “I can see she hurt you. Don’t think you are alone in your sorrow. I, too, have experienced the anguish dealt by someone I cared for. Rest assured, living gets easier.”

  Smiling at her earnest expression, Jonathan felt a camaraderie he’d never expected with the young girl. He knew nothing of her past. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be part of her future.

  “I believe I shall wear my emerald green waistcoat to the ball.”

  The following day as Jonathan penned letters to his friends, he knew he’d made the right decision regarding Miss Glace. Both Richard and Greyson were happily married. Although he wouldn’t be marrying for love as they had, he didn’t imagine his happiness would overly suffer due to it.

  Images of Catherine and Miss Glace invaded his mind. There was no comparison between the two women. Realizing soon Catherine would be completely unavailable to him had him rifling through the drawer for the last bottle of special reserve brandy from Ravenhurst.

  Splashing some into a glass, he replaced the decanter. As the bottle made contact with the bottom of the drawer, the thud sounded odd. Intrigued, he leaned forward to inspect the drawer. After a few seconds, click, and the bottom slid back. A brown book resided within the confines of the drawer. Drawing it forward, Jonathan set it in the middle of his desk.

  The book belonged to his father, for it didn’t appear to have aged enough to reach further back into his family. Reluctance flooded him, for he wasn’t sure he wanted to open the book. His father hadn’t been known for being the most honest person.

  Finishing his brandy, Jonathan decided he needed to know what secrets laid within the pages. Lifting the cover, he peered inside at his father’s scrawl. Page after page displayed the damning contents. He could hardly believe what he read.

  Linwood wasn’t in trouble, but it would have been if his father had still been alive. He’d slowly been draining the account for various pursuits—women, alcohol, gambling, and bad investments. His father had condemned Jonathan for living a dissolute life when he himself took it to the extreme.

  Shoving the book aside, Jonathan decided he didn’t want to know any more, until one word caught his eye. Dudgery. He drew the book back to him. His father had invested in the fake shipping company. In addition, judging from the notes, he had only paid a portion of the promised investment. The total amount was exorbitant.

  He could no longer act as if the shipping company would not affect him. The time had come for him to approach Dudgery.

  “You need to speak with your intended today,” Uncle Toban said.

  “I talk with him almost every day.” Catherine tilted her head questioningly at her uncle, as if she didn’t understand his meaning. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to explain.

  “He hasn’t announced your betrothal yet, and I believe the time has passed for him to make his intentions known.”

  “But his cousin—”

  “Will understand,” he finished.

  A band had been wrapped about her chest, cutting off her ability to breathe. She wasn’t ready to marry the earl any longer. After all, his proposal hadn’t come about from any fond emotions on his part. Besides, her heart hadn’t accepted the fact she would no longer be able to have Jonathan.

  She hadn’t seen him in much too long. The last time had been the day she’d practically attacked him outside the stable. Her body still hummed in discomfort when she thought about him. Those feelings had sent her to Linwood lands several times over the past fortnight, but they had yet to cross paths. If she married Dudgery, she feared she would always carry an ache for Jonathan with her.

  “I don’t know if I should be the one to speak with him. Perhaps if you hold the discussion . . .”

  Uncle Toban stretched a smile across his tight lips. “I disagree. Once he hears of your anxiety for the wedding, he will be more inclined to set a date.”

  “What if I’m not anxious?” She swallowed down her nerves and stared directly into her uncle’s eyes. “I’m not sure I wish to marry him.”

  His face turned bright red, and he seemed to grow before her very eyes. “You accepted his proposal. I’ll toss you out right now if you have no intention of honoring the promise you made. No family of mine shall act in such a manner.”

  Tears sprung to her eyes. How could he care so little for her that he would not take her feelings into consideration? He would turn her out without a second thought. As the proof of her distress flowed down her cheeks, her uncle’s angry stare didn’t weaken. He simply stood and left the room.

  She’d hardly had a chance to compose herself when Lord Dudgery arrived. She knew her despair showed on her face, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The earl himself caused most of her misery.

  “Good morning, Catherine,” he greeted. “The day is lovely. Would you care to take a ride with me?”

  “No, thank you,” she replied, keeping her shoulders back even as he narrowed his eyes. “I would much prefer to join your mother for tea.”

  “Why would you desire that?” Suspicion laced his words.

  Although she didn’t wish to push Dudgery for her uncle’s sake, she agreed with his reasoning. “I do believe it is time to announce our betrothal to her.”

  His lips pinched tight as a flash of anger ran through his eyes. “I have already explained to you about my cousin.”

  “Yes, and I admire your generosity toward him. However, what if he defies the odds and lives another year or two? Are we to live like this for that long?”

  Immediately his face softened. He must have misinterpreted her reason to mean what her uncle had suggested. As he moved to sit beside her, she straightened her back and leaned away.

  “Dearest, I’m sorry to make you wait, but I know your kind soul wouldn’t deny an old man one final pleasant thought before he passed.”

  He reached out and patted her knee. Resisting the urge to jump up and run from him, she held herself still and kept the bile down. When he pressed his lips to hers, she suffered his kiss until his hand began to caress her leg. Jerking back, she swatted his hand from her and stood.

  “My lord, this behavior is inappropriate. Especially in light of the fact that you have no plans to announce our engagement. Until that time, please cease coming here.”

  Without waiting for his response, Catherine fled the room. Her body didn’t stop trembling until she and Daisy left her uncle’s estate be
hind them. Not wishing to run into Jonathan, and having no desire to be in the company of his delightful brothers, she turned in the opposite direction of Linwood.

  Breathing became difficult as she tore across the land. She was stuck. Her uncle didn’t want her and probably would never agree to turn her funds over to her. Lord Dudgery only desired to marry her to further his own agenda with her uncle. That left Jonathan.

  Jonathan wanted her. But she couldn’t have him. Life with him would only be possible as his mistress. She shook her head, knowing she couldn’t live a life in exile, existing for each moment when he would return to her. However, if the curse was broken . . .

  She mentally shook herself. She couldn’t think like that. Those thoughts would drive her mad. Losing Luke and Solomon had been difficult, but losing Jonathan would be devastating. She’d never loved anyone the way she loved him.

  As she and Daisy continued on, Catherine found herself in unfamiliar terrain. She had traversed every path on both Berwick and Linwood property but never saw this. Had she ventured onto the earl’s land?

  Curious, she continued onward, taking note of the disrepair of each building. So absorbed in her surroundings, she almost crossed the bridge, or rather, what was left of it.

  So much neglect greeted her. She reined Daisy in before she could get close. The boards were so rotted most of the planks were missing. How could Lord Dudgery allow his estate to suffer such lack of regard? Was this why he wanted her uncle to invest? Could the earldom be failing?

  “It is still odd to see you sitting as lord of the manor,” Greyson observed as Jonathan poured his two friends a brandy.

  “I believe it suits me. It’s gratifying to see everyone jump to my every whim.” Jonathan leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “I hardly have to lift a finger around here.”

  “In this setting I imagine the women are plentiful.” Richard raised one eyebrow as if he didn’t completely believe Jonathan’s untroubled demeanor. “Break any hearts yet?”

  Jonathan swallowed. His was the only heart that earned that designation. Well, his and Miss Glace’s. “You know me. I don’t go anywhere without my attractiveness and charm.”

  “Your less-than-stellar performance doesn’t have me convinced.” Greyson pinned him with one of his direct gazes.

  Jonathan groaned. Apparently he wouldn’t be able to get by with imparting anything but truth to his friends. However, he refused to bring Catherine up. Both had seen how her rejection affected him years ago, and he refused to confess he’d made the mistake of opening himself up to her again.

  She could go on and marry Dudgery, although the thought troubled him. Thinking of the earl brought their earlier discussion to mind. Dudgery had professed repeatedly that the shipping company existed only as an investment, and that Jonathan’s father had seen the potential. For Catherine’s sake, Jonathan hoped the man spoke the truth.

  “What is troubling you?” Richard sat forward and rested his elbows against his knees as his attention fixed upon him.

  “I have decided to leave my rakish lifestyle behind me. The time has passed for me to settle down, so I have chosen a worthy wife.”

  Jonathan laughed to see both men’s eyes widened.

  “Your vow to remain a bachelor?” Greyson asked as his brows lifted.

  “Has been abolished. My dear Aunt Mildred”—both his friends cringed at the name—“has informed me she refuses to leave my house until I wed.”

  “So you have selected the more favorable choice.” Richard leaned back and crossed his arms. “Although I can’t argue with your logic, I can’t see you, of all people, making this decision.”

  “From the second I told you of my betrothal to Abigail, you made it clear you held a disdain for marriage brought about by anything less than love,” Greyson pointed out.

  Jonathan’s head began to throb. He wanted to switch the focus from himself, but he knew the men carefully watching him wouldn’t give up. Sighing, he closed his eyes and put his head back in his chair.

  “You’re right. I detest men, such as myself, who enter into a marriage believing love is unnecessary. Love is a gift. As such, someone must bestow it upon you. You can’t simply take it.”

  Silence echoed in the room. Not even breathing could be heard. Jonathan opened his eyes, half-expecting to see the room empty. Instead he saw pity. He didn’t want their sympathy, and he refused to take it.

  “I hear your pain. I just think—”

  “How is Brianna coming along with her painting?” Jonathan inserted before Richard could finish his thought.

  Richard took a deep breath, as if reluctant to change the subject. “Quite well. She doesn’t know I have secured her a place to showcase her work.”

  Greyson sat forward. “Has a date been scheduled? Abigail has inquired after Brianna’s talent and would enjoy a chance to see it.”

  “I will leave it up to my wife, but I’m thinking the beginning of next Season would be an ideal time.”

  Jonathan allowed their words to enter his mind without registering. Earning the disapproval of both Richard and Greyson made him pause. In all their years as friends, he’d come to respect their opinions, and he knew they’d never give him bad advice.

  Later that night, as he sat at the dinner table with his friends, their wives, his aunt, and all three of his brothers, the thought still wouldn’t leave his mind. Stanwick had watched him with concern from the second he arrived from London, whereas Aunt Mildred ignored his mood. Jonathan suspected she knew the cause and had no desire for him to make a decision against marrying, so she kept her mouth shut.

  “When are you going to take us fishing again?” Lawrence asked around a mouth full of food.

  “Perhaps after our guests have departed,” Jonathan replied.

  “Good. Although she’s pretty, Catherine doesn’t know about fish— Ouch!” Lawrence glared at Darin. “Why’d you do that?”

  Jonathan’s grip tightened on his glass at the mention of her name. Why would Catherine have gone fishing with his brothers? He felt everyone’s eyes upon him, so he lifted his drink to his mouth in an effort to exude calm. When the liquid touched his lips, he replaced it on the table, knowing the water would not make it past the lump in his throat.

  “I wasn’t aware you had gone with our neighbor.” Jonathan silently applauded his disinterested tone. “When did this take place?”

  “I don’t know. It was several times.” Lawrence jerked toward Darin. “Stop it.”

  “Don’t you remember? It’s supposed to be a secret.”

  Working hard to keep control over his reaction, Jonathan silently allowed Aunt Mildred to handle the boys’ argument. Why had Catherine come to spend time with his brothers and kept it a secret from him? He couldn’t think of anything she could gain from it.

  “Then if it’s a secret, you’d best not discuss it, particularly in front of our guests,” Jonathan informed them.

  “Sorry.” Lawrence dropped his head.

  “Stanwick,” Jonathan said. “Why don’t you regale us with stories from London? Being out in the country, we don’t have much access to the newest gossip.”

  As Stanwick did as bid, Jonathan made eye contact with Darin. At the first opportunity, he fully intended to obtain every detail. Catherine would learn she could not keep secrets from him.

  Rounding the corner, a familiar excitement welled inside of Catherine. Each time she met with Lawrence and Darin for fishing, she learned so much about Jonathan and his relationship with his family. Part of her felt guilty for sneaking around Jonathan, but she couldn’t stop herself.

  She truly enjoyed spending time with people whose only care was not letting the fish get away. However, to date, her luck had held out and every fish had managed to escape unhooked. She wasn’t sure what she would do if they actually pulled one of those wet, wiggling things from the water.

  Nearing the bank, she didn’t see either blond head leaning over the rushing water. She cast h
er gaze further up the bank and froze. A figure stood there leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. Unfortunately, his blond head didn’t belong to either of the boys she had come to see.

  “Care to go fishing?” Jonathan asked.

  Her heart pumped wildly in her chest. She wanted to pretend she didn’t see or hear him, but it was too late. After dismounting, she took the time to control her breathing as she led Daisy closer to Jonathan. What was he doing out here? Did Lawrence or Darin reveal their secret?

  “I don’t fish,” she stated, stopping just within the shade of the trees.

  “That’s not what I hear.”

  Drawing her head back at his anger, she straightened her shoulders. Although she’d kept her interactions with his brothers a secret, she’d done nothing wrong.

  “I much prefer to watch. Your brothers are fine teachers, but they can’t convince me to touch one of those worms.” She glared at him as his eyes darkened.

  “I’m beginning to believe I need to rescind my offer for you to trespass.”

  “Do as you will, my lord.” She spun around and grabbed the pommel of her saddle. Tears sprung to her eyes. Not only did she not deserve his frosty welcome, but he planned on taking away the one part of him she had left.

  “I’m sorry, Catherine,” he said from much closer than she expected. “I just don’t understand why you would come here to spend time with my brothers and ask them to keep it a secret from me.”

  She lowered her head before turning back to him. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have. I just enjoyed spending time with them. They are so sweet and not demanding. We sat there fishing for . . . I don’t know how long. It was peaceful.”

  He nodded and peered out over the water. “That’s the best part about fishing.”

  “Don’t worry about me trespassing in the future. I’ll keep to Berwick lands.”

  “No. You are welcome here.” Jonathan ran a hand through his hair. “Would you care to go on a walk?”