Instead, she waived dismissively. “Love doesn’t always pick a person you can deal well with. It doesn’t discriminate whenever it strikes.”
“What does that mean?”
“We’re not right for each other. Love isn’t the issue, as we have some to spare, but without compatibility, that will be used up. The only thing remaining will be two miserable people, stuck together for eternity.”
“Why, if it isn’t Lady Linwood,” Evelyn sneered as she came up to them. “When did you return? My husband, I’m sure you recall Lord Dudgery, has been searching for the viscount for months.”
“I wasn’t aware.” Catherine tried to keep her tone neutral, although her shock made it difficult. Had Lord Dudgery intended to marry Evelyn even while he was betrothed to her?
As the girl’s eyes narrowed, Catherine was taken aback by the amount of malice in her expression. Clearly marriage hadn’t softened her at all. In fact, it appeared to have had the opposite effect. Evelyn also seemed to have aged since Catherine had last seen her.
“I’ll be sure to tell him I saw you. Perhaps we can dine together.”
Her statement, along with her sneer, sounded like a threat. Why? She and Lord Dudgery had parted company amicably. He’d harbor no anger toward her.
“How delightful,” Abigail inserted. “Is he here in London with you?”
The smirk dissolved from Evelyn’s face as it transformed into a scowl. “Not at present. But I expect him any day now.”
With a glare, Evelyn turned and stomped away, holding her nose in the air.
Shaking her head, Catherine realized she would never understand the girl. However, she wasn’t sure she even wanted to. That level of malice wouldn’t be a good thing to know.
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t well done of me.” Abigail’s face tinted red. “Ever since she and the earl married, he deposited her in London to ‘visit her parents’ and hasn’t returned to collect her.”
“I don’t blame him. She existed as nothing but a problem to me the entire Season.”
“Well, she’s gone now. What were you saying about Jonathan?”
Catherine dropped her eyes to study the ground beneath her feet. “I don’t wish to speak about him any longer.”
When they arrived back in her cousin’s house, Abigail turned to her. “I enjoyed our outing. Can I visit you again?”
Allowing a wobbly smile to touch her lips, Catherine took in Abigail’s concerned eyes. Although she wanted nothing more than to enjoy her friend’s company, she knew it wasn’t a good idea. Keeping any connection to Jonathan’s friends or her own relations would bring him to her. She had to leave.
“I would love nothing more, but I don’t plan on remaining in London long.”
Jonathan pushed open Ravenhurst’s door and let the familiar smell of brandy and cigars comfort him. Everything appeared the same as the last time he’d been here, but nothing felt the same. As if the club existed as a distant memory. All those long years he’d been in London seemed so far away now.
With a nod to Nathaniel, he continued on to his usual table. As expected, Greyson sat, calmly watching him with no expression. He was never one to allow his face to give anything away.
“Good afternoon, Greyson,” Jonathan greeted. “It’s a rare occasion when I see you without your charming wife on your arm.”
His friend shrugged. “I find her company preferable to most.”
Sliding into a seat, Jonathan steepled his fingers on top of the table. “So, why did you call me here? I’m anxious to return to my wife.”
“I didn’t think it possible, but she certainly has changed you. I’ve never known you to begin business without enjoying a brandy first.”
As he turned his lips up, Jonathan knew the smile didn’t carry his usual joy. Lately the emotion had remained beyond his reach. Until Catherine returned to herself, he didn’t believe he would ever feel it again.
“You have no right to talk. The amount of change you undertook after marrying Abigail would scare any man off of women forever.”
Greyson laughed, the sound still surprised Jonathan. “You’re right.”
“Now, what did you wish to see me about?”
Seeing Nathaniel, Jonathan signaled for him to bring a brandy. His hands itched to be doing something and the strong liquid would help settle his anxiety.
“I wish to return a favor. When Abigail lived at Merrick, you warned me about her movements.”
Jonathan’s teeth clenched as his eyes shot daggers at his friend. “Catherine is not cuckolding me.”
Immediately Greyson tossed his hands up, palms toward him. “Hold on. I’m not suggesting she is. Besides, you were wrong about Abigail.”
“What is your point?” Jonathan ground out, tired of this conversation.
“Catherine is in London.”
Ice forced its way through Jonathan’s veins, bringing spikes of pain over every inch of his body as it froze him from the inside out. Greyson was wrong. Catherine was safe in Scotland. She had to be.
“That’s impossible.” His weak voice barely made it past the lump in his throat.
“Abigail spoke with her. That’s when I sent you the urgent letter.”
Reality slapped Jonathan in the face. Dudgery had made a quick escape from the country as well. Had he learned Catherine was here? Had he got to her already? Bile rose in Jonathan’s throat.
“Where is she?”
With nervous eyes, Greyson scanned the crowd. “Abigail is already going to be angry for this. She’ll kill me if I tell you anything more.”
Jonathan stood so quickly the chair fell, hitting the one behind it. “And I’ll kill you if you don’t tell me.”
Greyson’s eyes hardened as he, too, stood. “Do you want to rephrase that? I don’t take threats lightly.”
“You don’t understand. Catherine’s not safe in London.”
His friend relaxed his defensive stance. “I’m sorry, Jonathan. I don’t know where she is now. She stayed with Lady Vanessa for a time but left a few days ago.”
Closing his eyes, he clenched his fists in an attempt to refrain from showing his frustration. Why did she have to do this to him? He regretted the decision to not tell her how dangerous Dudgery was. Jonathan fought to get his emotions under control. Now he would have to pray he found her before the earl.
Unwilling to waste another second, Jonathan fled the club and headed straight to Catherine’s cousin’s house. He would do everything in his power to force the woman to confess where Catherine had disappeared to.
After banging on the door, a wide-eyed butler cracked it open. Jonathan imagined panic showed across his face, but he couldn’t contain it, his body wound too tight to expend any effort on something so trivial.
“Tell Lady Vanessa that Lord Linwood is here to see her.”
The man’s expression relaxed as he opened the door wider, granting entrance. Clearly his visit had been anticipated.
“Please wait here, my lord.”
Jonathan opened his mouth to demand to be shown to the lady of the house when the butler took a few steps, opened a drawer, and withdrew a letter. Once he handed him the missive, Jonathan flipped it over. His name had been neatly penned on the front in a hand he didn’t recognize.
“My lady left this with instructions to give it to you once you came.” With a bow, the man left.
Ripping open the seal, Jonathan scanned the contents. Lady Vanessa had taken Catherine to Bath, hoping the healing waters would help his wife. She left an address with instructions telling him to only follow if he truly loved Catherine. What did that mean? Had Catherine told her cousin he didn’t love her? Did she honestly believe that?
He raked his hands through his hair. He had to get a new horse. His stallion had ridden too hard to get here. Facing another three days in the saddle didn’t sound appealing, but he’d do anything for Catherine. The only comfort came from the knowledge that she would be safely hidden away with her cousin.
&nbs
p; By the time he reined his horse in at the indicated address, he felt ready to fall over. His body couldn’t take the fear any longer. Every second he alternated between worrying she wouldn’t be there and worrying she would refuse to see him. What had he done wrong?
Dragging his tired limbs to the door, he rapped his knuckles against the hard wood. Not long later, he stood across from Lady Vanessa.
“Where is Catherine?”
“She is in her bedchamber, but I haven’t told her you are here. She seems to think her separation from you would be better for you both. Do you agree?”
“No.” Jonathan spat the word, feeling his ire rise. How could Catherine believe such a thing? “I want to see my wife now.”
Lady Vanessa’s intense eyes observed him. She moved her mouth to one side of her face as she tilted her head.
He remained immobile, allowing her to assess him.
“You may go,” she answered at last. “Amber will show you the way.”
Relief flooded through him as he restrained himself from rushing ahead of the girl and taking the stairs two at a time. After she indicated a door, she left him. Anxiety propelled him forward to knock as apprehension made his hands shake. Would Catherine be happy to see him or would she reject him?
At her muffled acceptance, he entered the room. She sat at the window, not even turning to see who approached her. He had almost reached her by the time her red, startled eyes laid upon him. She jumped to her feet as she drew in a breath.
“Jonathan,” she whispered as a beautiful smile abruptly touched her lips. Then, just as quickly, it dissolved. “What are you doing here?”
Her disapproval soured in his mouth. “If you have to ask, then I’ve completely failed as a husband, and you had every right to remove yourself from my life.”
The softening of her face made his chest throb with an intense hope that he stood a chance of winning her back. Regardless, he wouldn’t give up until he took his last breath. Even then, his spirit would not rest until she accepted his love for her.
“You are a wonderful husband. It’s me who has failed. I have done nothing but bring you misery from the second we said our vows.”
“Oh, Catherine, you couldn’t possibly be more wrong.” He moved toward her and cupped her warm cheek in his palm. “You have fulfilled a fantasy I didn’t dare dream of. I love you with every bit of my heart and soul and will never stop.”
She closed her eyes as he leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. When she returned his kiss with exuberance, he gripped her tighter, desperate to be as close to her as possible. The joy flooding his body was tangible. For the first time since their marriage, she seemed to lose herself in him.
His body tightened as her eager hands roamed over him. An acute ache grew from within. He needed to possess her, but he had one desire preceding all others in importance.
Easing back, he gazed into her half-lidded eyes. “Come on, let’s go home.”
Catherine lay back in the soft grass and stared unseeingly at the clouds. This had been her favorite spot at Linwood for many years. Being here made her feel closer to Jonathan when he left the estate. It seemed recently his absences had increased. She didn’t like it.
His journey to collect her from Bath changed something inside her, and she no longer felt leaving him would be the best choice. Jonathan had also made it clear he would not tolerate her disappearance a second time. In addition, she found her outlook on life appeared less bleak with him by her side.
As a flash of Jonathan’s smile filled her head she realized that statement was false. Life wasn’t just less bleak, it was happy. A smile turned up her lips to recall Jonathan’s claim of experiencing the same emotion. They actually were happy.
She sat up so quickly her head spun as a random thought struck her. Jonathan enjoyed their marriage. Images of him flooded through her mind. Their wedding day. Running through the fields in Scotland. Their return to Linwood. Their late night dinners. Yes, he was gaining enjoyment from their marriage. Could the curse be broken?
The sound of a horse galloping toward her brought her to her feet. Had Jonathan returned? The thought made her heart swell. She couldn’t wait to tell him that he, no, that they had survived the curse. Turning in the direction of the rider, she didn’t recognize the man until he arrived much too close. Lord Dudgery.
All good feelings dissipated as he drew near. Jonathan had warned her to stay away from the earl. And the conversation with Evelyn in London also made her uncomfortable.
Uneasy, Catherine glanced around. No one in sight. Her chest tightened. She wasn’t safe out here alone.
When Lord Dudgery dismounted, he stumbled toward her. He didn’t look good. Sweat dripped down his face despite the cool spring breeze. His unnaturally pale skin held a greenish tint.
“Lady Linwood,” he began, blinking rapidly as if to clear his vision. “Forgive me, I . . . I . . .” He shook his head as he took another step closer to her.
“Are you all right, my lord?”
He fell to his knees in front of her, clutching his stomach. Dropping beside him, she stared into his pain-filled face in horror. Fear gripped her, making her tremble. Red splotches covered most of his face, primarily around his mouth and neck.
“What can I do?” she exclaimed, as her useless hands fluttered around him, desperate to help but afraid to touch him. What had happened to him?
His eyes bulged out as he gasped for breath. She screamed as he launched toward her. His body crushed her to the ground, then didn’t move. Tears poured down her cheeks as she pushed him off of her. Scrambling away, she looked upon Lord Dudgery’s unmoving form as her stomach rolled. Her heart hammered in her chest as she remained frozen to the spot.
“Lord Dudgery?” she said, voice trembling.
“He’s dead.”
Uncle Toban’s abrupt and unexpected response made her scream. She hadn’t heard him approach over the blood pumping in her ears. Needing comfort, she flew into his open arms as tears flooded her vision.
“Calm down. I’ll take care of everything,” he assured.
“Wh-what happened?” she rasped.
“Wait just a moment.” He left her to collect a sheepskin from his horse. “Drink this, it will help.”
She gratefully accepted the pouch and allowed the water to hydrate her parched throat. The flavor created by the container never appealed to her, and today it tasted especially unpleasant. Holding it out, she tried to return it, but he pressed it back into her hand.
An understanding smile touched his lips. “Finish it. It will help. Besides, I already drank my fill today.”
Not wishing to appear ungrateful, she did as bid. After she drained the bottle, he tucked it back into his saddlebags. Glancing back at the body of Lord Dudgery made her legs go weak. Falling to the ground, she wound her arms around her knees. Had the curse taken Lord Dudgery due to their betrothal? Was Jonathan safe or was he next?
Her body shook violently, but she couldn’t stop herself. She closed her eyes tightly as pain lodged itself in her throat.
“Catherine, are you all right?” Concern laced her uncle’s words, bringing her comfort. This was the uncle she remembered. The one who had been there for her.
“How did you find me?” she whispered, overcome with gratefulness as he wrapped his warm arms around her suddenly cold shoulders.
“Lord Dudgery had been at Berwick. He seemed upset and quite unwell. He left saying he intended to cause you harm as a way to get back at something your husband did. I followed him. After all, I couldn’t allow him to hurt you.”
Leaning heavily against her uncle, she tried to see his face, but the energy to do so evaded her. Jonathan had insisted she eat and drink more, but her worry kept her appetite back. Now she wished she had listened to him. The thought of her husband brought fresh tears to her eyes. Uncle Toban tightened his grip on her.
“I can fix this for you,” he promised. “I will make all this go away, and you can come back to Berw
ick. Everything will go back to the way it was before we went to London. I swear it.”
She opened her mouth to question him, but no sound came out. Panicked, she tried to reach out, but she couldn’t move. Her viciously pounding heart was the only thing moving her body. Pain shot through her midsection, but she could do nothing except suffer in silence.
Uncle Toban’s mouth moved, but no sound came from him either. Was it his voice or her ears? Suddenly, he cradled her head against his chest and began rocking her. Her mind flashed rapidly to the different explanations, each one just as terrifying as the last.
Catherine gasped. She couldn’t breathe. Terror clawed her as she futilely tried to catch a breath. Her last thought was of Jonathan before she succumbed to the black void that signaled the end of her life.
Chapter 18
“Jackson is dead.” Rawson’s grave voice offered neither fear nor relief. “He was murdered.”
Jonathan thrust a hand through his hair as he processed the new information. This didn’t bode well for either of them. Although the threat Sideon had posed had now dissolved, this development also brought more menace. Whoever had taken his life had grown desperate.
“Any idea who did it?”
“Probably Dudgery, but I didn’t stick around long enough to learn anything else. I believe whoever sent me this letter intended for the blame of Jackson’s death to fall on me.”
Taking the paper, Jonathan scanned the scrawl. The one sentence demanded Rawson meet with Sideon this morning and had been signed by the man in the same hand. Jonathan saw nothing damning in the words.
“How do you know it wasn’t from Sideon?”
“Jackson can’t read or write. Whoever sent this probably had already killed him and alerted the authorities. Sensing a trap, I arrived early and left as soon as I found Jackson in a pool of blood.”
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