Judging by the look Esther gave her, Catherine could tell her maid wasn’t convinced that had been the reason for her prolonged stay in bed. Before Catherine was forced to deal with more questions, she quickly asked, “Where is my sister now? Once I’ve finished dressing, I shall go to her and put her mind at ease regarding the state of my well-being.”
“The last I saw of ’er, she was on ’er way to the nursery.”
Nodding, Catherine slipped out of bed. She’d given herself three days to wallow. But now she had to set her mind to moving on from Lucas Beaumont…again. And she’d do it even if she had to do it one shaky step at a time.
Her sister wasn’t in the nursery and neither she nor Alex had been in the breakfast room when she’d peered in there and found the place empty.
Catherine resumed her search upstairs in the separate wing that housed the master and mistress suites.
Although accustomed to unrestricted access to her sister’s domain, she always knocked when the door was closed. Her sister and brother-in-law didn’t always wait for the veil of darkness for their intimacies. The door, however, was not closed but stood wide open. Catherine stood on the threshold and peered in. “Lottie, are you here?”
The upstairs maid, Annie, poked her mob-capped head around the corner that led to the heart of the bedroom. “The mistress will be back in a minute to change. I’m finished in ’ere now.”
Catherine entered the anteroom that held a low-boy chair, a gold settee and a lamp that sat a redwood side table. She ventured farther in and watched as Annie collected her cleaning rags and pail, then tucked the broom and dustpan under her arm. She smiled and nodded deferentially as she passed Catherine on her way out.
The place was spotless, not an item out of a place. The four-poster bed should have dominated the room by the sheer size of the mahogany bedstead but the space was so large, it didn’t quite manage it.
No canopy for Charlotte. She’d once confessed that Alex wasn’t particularly fond of them and since her husband spent an inordinate amount of time in her bed... Likewise, the rest of the furniture in the room was large, including a wardrobe with a beautiful scene of wildflowers and a meadow painted on the doors. The dressing screen was equally as elaborate and colorful.
“I don’t agree.”
Catherine started at her sister’s voice, at the sharpness of her tone.
“That’s because you’re not thinking with your head. At least Catherine believes it to be the truth or she wouldn’t be done with him,” Alex said sharply.
That set her heart pounding as their voices grew ever closer.
Now Catherine was well aware of her shortcomings and most times she tried desperately to rise above them. But at other times, like this, they got the best of her. In her defense, had she not heard her name, known they were discussing her and Lucas, she would have remained where she was. Instead, she frantically looked about for a place to hide before they discovered her. She spotted the dressing screen just in time and scampered behind it before they entered the room. Holding herself as still as humanly possible—barely daring to breath—she listened, comforted in the knowledge they wouldn’t be able to see through the screen.
“Alex, you’re being completely unreasonable. You know very well that you have nothing to fear from Lucas,” her sister said sounding both frustrated and annoyed. Catherine could well imagine her expression.
Alex let out a humorless laugh. “Who said anything about being afraid of the man? I simply don’t believe this sudden longing he professes to have for your sister. The year last it was you he travelled thousands of miles to see and all because of what? Oh, that’s right. He hadn’t received a letter from you to let him know you’d arrived safely.”
“What, you think he had an ulterior motive? He was to have come here on business in September in any case.”
“When are you going to face the fact that the man is still in love with you? A person doesn’t go from loving one sister to the other. And I’d say it’s one hundred times worse if they are identical in appearance. Had that been possible, I would have thought myself in love with Catherine during your absence.”
Catherine recoiled at the thought. Never. Her with the love of her sister’s life? It would never have happened. Could never have happened.
“Lord, how could you say such a thing?”
“Because it’s true. Can’t you see that if this is what Beaumont claims, he’s either lying to her or worse, lying to himself?”
“But he never loved me like that.” Her sister sounded exasperated.
“He cared enough to propose marriage.” His voice was hard and unyielding.
Charlotte emitted a sound of frustration and then Catherine heard a thud as if she’d stomped her foot. “When are you going to understand that the proposal meant nothing? He loves me like a sister. He’s one of my dearest friends.”
Her brother-in-law growled in response.
“I know you don’t like to hear this but Lucas was not the one responsible for what happened. He is utterly blameless and it seems to me that perhaps because you don’t want to anger the person who is most at fault, me, you have no problem taking it out on him.”
“You were not to blame,” he said, his voice softer, lower.
Tears filled Catherine’s eyes. He was right, her sister wasn’t to blame. It was her. She was to blame and that was something that would never change.
“Yes, Alex, I was,” her sister whispered, her voice sounding choked. “It was more my fault than it was Katie’s. I should have gone to you when I received the letter instead of fleeing. But I know you love me and you’ve forgiven me. You’ve forgiven us both. What you choose not to see is that Lucas is a good man who acted with the best of intentions toward me and our son. But now he loves her. Truly loves her like he could never have loved me. I know he does.”
What followed was silence. And it went on and on until Catherine couldn’t swallow and couldn’t breathe. She remained absolutely still.
A heavy sigh came. Alex. “As much as it pains me to say it, I don’t want that man around. I simply don’t trust him.”
“Alex, Lucas was my dearest friend in America. And should things work out between he and my sister—God willing—he will be my brother-in-law and yours as well. Not only will you have to see him, you will be cordial when you do because I refuse to allow strained relations between our husbands to cause any distance between Katie and myself, which is precisely what will happen if you continue to behave this way.”
“What would you have me do?” Alex asked on the heels of another weary sigh. “I am not jealous of the man. That’s not what this is all about. I don’t understand why you don’t believe that my concern is for Catherine. He may not set out to hurt her but my fear is that he will. A man doesn’t simply get over you.”
“Oh Alex, your feelings for me have blinded you completely. I don’t want us to quarrel anymore about this. You must—”
A knock and then a door opening interrupted whatever her sister was about to say.
“Milady, the babe is awake and cryin’ up a storm she is.”
Catherine recognized the voice as belonging to one of the upstairs maid.
“Thank you, Claire. I’ll be right there,” Charlotte replied. After a moment of silence—Catherine assumed waiting for the maid to leave—her sister spoke again. “We shall continue the discussion later. But I’m warning you, in this matter, I cannot and shall not be moved. If Lucas is the man my sister chooses, he will be welcomed into this family with open arms.”
A soft grunt was the only thing she heard to indicate her brother-in-law understood the true meaning of his wife’s statement. It’d be the devil’s own task to change her sister’s mind.
Once they’d vacated the room, Catherine stepped out from her hiding spot. Something wet hit her chest and it was only then she realized they were her tears. Silent tears rolled down her face as she hurried from the suite. Her legs didn’t stop moving until she stood within th
e blue silk-papered walls of her bedroom.
Blindly she made her way to the bed and sank down onto the edge. The sad thing was everything Alex had said was right. She knew in her heart he was right. He had firsthand knowledge of what it was like to love her sister. She’d seen him in the aftermath of her sister’s departure and the years following. He’d never fully recovered from the loss of her. He’d certainly never given Catherine a second glance.
Her sister would argue that that was because Lucas didn’t love her as Alex did, from the depths of his heart. But neither her sister nor Lucas could deny that he had been attracted to Charlotte, that he’d cared deeply enough about her to ask for her hand in marriage. Had her sister not refused him, they would currently be married.
If her sister hadn’t refused him.
If if if if. Lord how she hated the sight, the sound, the very meaning of that word. It was deceptive in its brevity for it gave rise to far too many hopes. It hinted at a reality that didn’t exist, actions that could not be taken back.
If only he hadn’t proposed to Charlotte.
That was the reality she’d have given every last bit of her pin money to have.
Lucas couldn’t possibly know for sure. How could he? Charlotte’s refusal had proved to be a pivotal point in his life. In all their lives as things had turned out. So as much as Catherine wanted to believe him, trust that he knew the root of his feelings for her, she could not.
Discovering that Charlotte had a twin may have caused a renewed sense of hope and purpose to flourish in his heart, and he could so easily have transferred his feelings to the sister whose heart was open and available to him.
After all, Mr. Samuel had preferred her sister to her. No, that wasn’t entirely the truth. In the end, it hadn’t made a difference which of them he married. He hadn’t been able to see their differences. Or perhaps he hadn’t cared enough to look. Like to identical pieces of fine porcelain, one could be easily exchanged for the other without anyone being the wiser. That was how he’d seen them.
But it had been Charlotte whom he’d seen and been completely charmed with first. He’d been immediately smitten—as Catherine had discovered too late from his chatty secretary—and had hoped to pursue her but she’d already become engaged to Alex.
The only saving grace was that Catherine hadn’t fallen in love with him. Oh, she’d grown quite attached to him for a while—in those dark months after Charlotte had disappeared. But looking back—something she tried not to do too often—she’d probably used him just as much as he’d used her as a substitute for her sister. Thank goodness, in the end, her heart had not been truly engaged because the discovery of his feelings for her sister would have crippled her instead of merely bruising her pride.
This matter with Lucas and Charlotte was crippling enough to send her to her knees. The mere thought of it was a constant source of pain and heartache. Although he hadn’t known of her existence six years ago, the proposal felt like a betrayal in a way she couldn’t explain with any sense of logic.
Her shoulders heaved on a choked sob. Tears continued to fall as a shudder racked her from head to foot. Had she only herself to think about, perhaps it would be worth the risk of trusting him despite every shred of evidence that told her she’d be a fool if she did and her faith would, in the end, be to her detriment. But it was clear that her sister’s marriage would suffer from a union between her and Lucas. And that was something she couldn’t allow. No, not after what she’d already put them through, what she’d already cost them.
CHAPTER NINE
Upon their return to the city, Lucas learned that their mother had decamped London in favor of Devonshire. Or so she stated in the note she left her daughters. Not one word to him, which was just as well. Out of all of her children, he and his mother’s relationship was the most adversarial. She tolerated him because she liked nice things and preferred to have them than naught. He financed her lifestyle because—as fate would have it—she’d given him life. But more importantly, because she was still the sole legal guardian of his sisters until they came of age or married.
Lucas left his sisters in Mrs. White’s more than capable hands and returned to his bachelor’s residence. He’d purchased it ten years back when his business had begun to keep him in London progressively longer with every visit. One year, he’d remained for three whole months. A flat in Mayfair had been too expensive for his pockets then, but he’d managed to find one close enough to the townhouse his mother had received upon the death of her third husband, Mr. Frederick Fairchild.
He’d had the house opened the week before last and when he stayed in London, he employed a total of seven servants, which included a valet, a housekeeper, a cook, a footman, and three maids.
Once at home, Lucas washed the grime of travel off in the form of a hot bath, after which he partook of his midday meal and then repaired to the library.
The library, though barely larger than his study, had been an extravagance when he’d bought the place. But he’d wanted a room not associated with work to house his books. That’s why he hadn’t put a desk in here.
The library was furnished with an oversized dark-brown leather sofa, a winged-back chair and a center and side table made of mahogany. Two wall sconces and a gas lamp lit the room and there was a small brick fireplace that took care of the heating. An entire wall was devoted to bookshelves and their namesake.
Stocking feet perched on the ottoman, Lucas had a book opened on his lap. He wasn’t so much reading it as he was studying it, as he hadn’t been able to concentrate enough to make sense of it.
A light knock on the door brought his gaze up. Now he studied his footman, Clarkson.
“Sir, the Earl of Granville to see you,” Clarkson informed him.
Granville? He vaguely remembered hearing the name and might very well have met the man. He’d been in England every year since ’57, save ’62, the year he’d gone to war.
“Show him in,” Lucas instructed, transferring his book from his lap to the center table and pushing to his feet.
Less than a minute later, the earl strode into the room, his hat and gloves held in his left hand.
Lucas studied him. He was tall with a build slightly leaner than his. His dark hair, he wore away from his face and his bespoke garments were of Savile Row style and quality. If he had to guess, he’d say the earl was in his early thirties and he couldn’t remember having met the man before in his entire life.
“Mr. Beaumont.” The earl extended his hand in greeting.
Without thinking, Lucas shook it noting the cool, firm grip.
“Lord Granville, I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure.”
“Nor have I,” Lord Granville responded amiably.
Lucas nodded to the footman, indicating that would be all. Clarkson immediately withdrew, closing the door behind him.
“Please sit, my lord.” Lucas motioned to the two seating options.
“Granville will be fine,” the earl declared with a negligent wave of his hand and availed himself of the sofa.
Lucas resumed his seat.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what the hell I’m doing here,” Granville said, disarming him with an engaging grin that showcased perfect, white teeth.
“The question had crossed my mind,” Lucas admitted with a smile, taking an instant liking to the man. He liked that he didn’t have any airs about him. British aristocrats were widely known for their airs. Their heirs tended to have even more airs than the rest of them. “I don’t believe we’ve met unless I’m mistaken,” he said. But there was no mistake, they’d never met.
“I never saw you before in my life. But it appears we are both well acquainted with Miss Catherine Rutherford.”
Lucas immediately felt his spine tighten and he appraised the earl a second time, this time far more critically.
Granville had the sort of looks many women would no doubt find infinitely appealing. He was also an earl, so a man of rank. And by the cut of his
garments and the hat that he’d placed on the side table, he definitely wasn’t a pauper. Taken as a whole, the man had a great deal to recommend him, as the English would say.
“First, let me assure you before you start thinking of ways to off me, that I’m not interested in Miss Rutherford for myself,” Granville said with a rueful laugh.
Lucas narrowed his gaze. “Then for whom?”
“My sister. That is to say, I’m here on behalf of my sister Olivia. She and Catherine are extremely close and she strongly encouraged me to speak with you when I was next in town.”
“Ah, I see. In other words, size me up?” The irony of it didn’t escape him.
“Well she did say you plan to marry Miss Rutherford and that I should make sure you’re up to snuff.”
“When did you speak to your sister last?” Lucas asked, curious now as to why Catherine hadn’t informed her friend about the recent events.
“Yesterday, when I left the country.”
“I see.” It had been four days since she’d dismissed him from her life and three days later, she still hadn’t informed her friend of it. But perhaps she’d yet to see her again. “I’d have expected a visit from her brother first.”
“Oh, I’m quite sure one is coming just as soon as Parliament recesses for Easter. Some of us have to work for our exalted place in society,” Lord Granville said, his tone all mockery and dry wit.
“And what do the others do?”
“Some of us dispense financial advice to those seeking to keep or maintain their fortunes. The rest laze about doing nothing at all and I’m told they prefer it that way.”
It was decided. He liked this man.
“So you’re marriage-bent are you?” the earl asked, settling back into the chair as if he’d looked around, found the place and the company acceptable and decided to stay a while.
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