Twice the Temptation

by Beverley Kendall

  Behind him, his sister snorted softly and asked, “Speak to us about what?”

  “You’ll know soon enough,” he tossed over his shoulder and entered the room.

  His wait exhausted forty-five minutes more of his patience, which was in short supply these days. It took his sisters several more minutes to get settled. This in a room with only three available pieces of furniture on which to sit.

  As Lucas watched the spectacle of musical chairs play out, he could only conclude that the fussing of billowing skirts was in deference to their new dresses, which was making the process feel like a daylong affair.

  Lucas finally growled, “Sit for God’s sake. You’re both giving me a headache. Silk, satin, whatever that is, surely it should have the resiliency to support both your insubstantial weight without suffering any collateral damage.”

  Lydia shot him a guilty look and immediately sat. Caroline fussed with her skirts a bit longer before she settled down beside her sister, protesting, “You don’t understand. Sometimes the lace catches and it’s very delicate.”

  If the thing was too delicate to be sat on, why purchase it in the first place, he almost snapped but wisely held his tongue.

  Both now looked expectantly at him and he was again the solicitous older brother.

  “I won’t be marrying Miss Rutherford,” he said, surprised none of the words had gotten stuck in his throat. But they were easier to say than to believe.

  Their expressions went through a myriad of emotions in the span of seconds. Shock and bewilderment came in heartbeats of each other.

  “But how can that be?” Lydia demanded to know.

  Their faith in his appeal would have been gratifying in other circumstances. As it was, it did little to dull the pain of her rejection, the knowledge that he’d have to go on without her.

  “It can be and it is just that,” he stated firmly, almost dismissively, determined he not become a pitiful object of commiseration. “And since Caroline won’t be marrying Lord Billings, I thought you both might prefer it if we returned home.”

  His sisters fairly snapped to attention, eyes wide as they gaped at him. “You mean home to America?” Caroline asked shrilly. And there was a plaintive tone to her voice that had him studying her closely.

  “You do not wish to return home?” he asked, slowing the cadence of his speech.

  “Why would I wish to go home…now?”

  Lucas couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d thought remaining in England would be the last thing Caroline—of all people—would want.

  “Was it not three weeks ago that I had to cajole you into remaining in London until the end of the Season. I naturally took that to mean you wanted to go home.”

  “But if I married Lord Billings, England was to be my home.”

  “Yes, but you are not marrying Lord Billings.” Did he really have to state the obvious? What the hell was going on? Shifting his gaze to a silent Lydia, he asked, “What do you want to do?”

  Lydia exchanged a look with her older sister before responding. “I should like to stay until the end of the Season.”

  Their solidarity should not have surprised him. No matter the difference in their personalities, in the end, his sisters were undivided in their loyalty for one another.

  “In any case, Patrick only just arrived. Won’t it be nice to be here all together?” Caroline said, smiling prettily. In that smile Lucas saw the woman who would give a weak-willed man a merry chase.

  “But you never told us why Miss Rutherford will not marry you?” Lydia persisted.

  “And I won’t because it’s none of your concern,” he said firmly.

  Lydia frowned.

  “You won’t make us go home will you?” Caroline asked, determined to squeeze the promise from him.

  He stared at her for several seconds before nodding curtly. “Yes, we shall remain until the end of the season.”

  His sisters beamed, Caroline grasping her younger sister’s hand in hers and squeezing it tightly. Lucas wondered what that was all about, their sudden exuberance to remain in England.

  But while they couldn’t be happier, he could not think of a torture more cruel than having Catherine so close yet being forced to stay away. She’d be in London for the Season the coming month. And although his sisters’ aunt, Lady Bailey, had generously agreed to sponsor them, she was a woman of advanced years, and the duty of escorting them about town would largely fall on his shoulders. Was there any possible way he could avoid seeing her?

  “Yesterday a letter arrived from Charlotte.” Lydia’s voice jerked his attention back to her. “She said both she and Nicholas are most anxious to see us again. And she’d like to introduce us to Rose. I sent a letter back telling her we are waiting for you to take us.”

  “Tell us we can go tomorrow,” Caroline pleaded. “We have nothing to do here until the Season begins. We’ve already been to the museums, the theatre and Mother took us to the opera twice already. And we shop incessantly. Lord, I never thought I’d ever tire of it but even I’ve reached my limit. I believe we have enough gowns, bonnets, and shawls to last us the next five years.” Her statement was affirmed by a nod from her sister.

  Lucas felt a squeezing sensation in his chest. The thought of being forced to see Catherine so soon brought him both pain and pleasure. But faced with his sisters’ obvious excitement, Lucas couldn’t bring himself to disappoint them. After all, he had promised them he’d take them to see her from the beginning. And they’d been ever so patient in him making good on his word.

  He released a long breath. “Very well. I will arrange it with Charlotte.”

  Lucas kept his word and did not return.

  The enormity of her loss hit her fully on the fourth day of his absence, sitting like unleavened bread in the pit of her stomach.

  Catherine existed in a state of hopeless despair, melancholy coloring every moment of her days. Her sister’s attempts to raise her spirits failed. And it was obvious a tension had developed between Charlotte and Alex.

  Determined not to spread her misery more than she’d already done, after breakfast Catherine found her sister in the nursery tending to her fussing daughter and informed her she was going home.

  In the midst of pacing the gaily-decorated room with Rose in her arms, Charlotte halted. “Oh but you can’t. You mustn’t. I’d worry myself silly thinking of you all alone in that house,” she said, continuing to rub the baby’s back in circular motions.

  “James, Missy and the children will be home in less than a week. Believe me, Lottie, the solitude will do me good,” she said quietly, her gaze dropping to the carpeted floor.

  “I—Katie—”

  Catherine looked up and the pained expression on her sister’s face brought a swell of guilt. “I beg you not to fret. I couldn’t bear it if I caused you more distress.”

  “You haven’t done that. Far from it. We love having you here.”

  Her sister would never admit that the whole affair with Lucas had put a strain on her marriage but Catherine could see it had, although they both did their best to hide it in front of her. She was underfoot here and a constant source of contention between them.

  “If I am feeling the least bit lonely, I promise I’ll visit without sending word. Will that satisfy you?” she asked, forcing a small laugh.

  Charlotte regarded her in silence as she brushed her daughter’s forehead with a kiss. Rose had grown still in her arms, her little chest rising and falling rhythmically, her eyes drifting slowly closed.

  “Very well. I shan’t fight you on this if this is what you truly want. The only thing I ask is that you spend the day with me and I can help you pick out a gown for Lady Willoughby’s ball tomorrow evening.”

  Oh dear, she’d forgotten all about the ball. The invitations had gone out over a month ago and she’d sent her acceptance. No matter her current disposition, she simply couldn’t bow out now. Meghan and Olivia would be attending, and it was arranged that Olivia and her cha
perone would come and fetch her. If she cried off, both women would hunt her down and drag her there themselves.

  “You are going, are you not?” Charlotte asked, shifting her now sleeping daughter to her other arm.

  “I’d forgotten all about it. But yes, I suppose I must,” she replied, with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner being sent to the gallows.

  Charlotte reached out, captured her hand in hers, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “My darling, things will get better. You shall see. Stay and spend the day with me today.”

  Catherine summoned a smile and returned her sister’s squeeze before releasing her hand. “If you are sure you can bear to spend an entire day alone with me, I shall try my best not to ruin it for you.”

  “You could never do that,” her sister whispered.

  Catherine tipped her chin toward her niece. “She is sleeping.”

  “That she is.” Charlotte’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Let me put her down and ring for Mrs. Hill.”

  Minutes later, the nanny arrived to watch over her charge.

  “It’s a beautiful day for a drive don’t you think?” Charlotte asked, turning to her once she closed the door to the nursery.

  “Yes it is.”

  “Then why don’t we take a drive into town. Now that all the baby weight is gone, I’m in need of new dresses.”

  They started down the hall toward the wings that housed their respective rooms. “One would never even know you’ve recently given birth.” Her sister’s pregnancy had only become obvious during the final two months. And even then, she’d been all stomach.

  “Yes, well, one would not have seen me with my clothes off,” Charlotte replied with a laugh. “Speaking of dresses. Did we not get a delivery from our aunt’s shop yesterday?”

  “Oh yes. I purchased three several weeks ago. I scarcely got a look at them. Would you like to see?” Catherine asked.

  Smiling, Charlotte hooked her arm through hers and replied, “But of course. Show me the way.”

  In the guest room, Catherine pulled out the three dresses from the wardrobe and laid them on the bed.

  “Oh you must wear this one today,” her sister exclaimed, holding up Catherine’s personal favorite.

  Catherine smiled fondly at the dress. “It is very pretty, is it not? It’s one of our aunt’s latest creations. As you can see,” she said, gesturing to the bodice, “she is experimenting with differing colors and fabric for the bodice and the skirt. It’s said to be all the rage.”

  Celadon in color, the fitted, shot-silk bodice had a braided trim along a rounded neckline. The dark-green moiré skirt was gored at the sides and front, and pleated around the waist, which gave it a more narrow appearance. Catherine couldn’t be happier with the way the dress turned out and the overall slimmer silhouette it achieved.

  Charlotte chortled as she held the dress up against her body and regarded her image in the cheval mirror next to the dressing screen. “I believe I shall have her make me one just like it. We’ll have everyone in a tizzy the way we did when we were girls. Oh, that would be so much fun.”

  Of course, her sister was just being silly. She wasn’t serious.

  “Here,” Charlotte said, sighing dramatically as she thrust the dress into Catherine’s hands. “Take it and put it on before I spirit it away. I’m going to change and then we can set out.”

  Laughing, her sister departed and Catherine rang for her lady’s maid. A half hour later, she descended the stairs in search of her sister. As she approached the bottom, she heard a murmur of voices coming from the drawing room.

  Perhaps Alex was home.

  Charlotte emerged seconds later, almost as if she’d been listening out for her, and quickly approached. Catherine noted she hadn’t changed out of the striped tan-and-cream gown she’d been wearing earlier.

  “Katie, we have callers.”

  In that moment, Catherine experienced a sense of déjà vu that caused her stomach to dip and arrested her breathing for an instant.

  Charlotte didn’t wait for her to respond, she simply grasped Catherine’s arm and tugged her along toward the drawing room.

  The open door revealed the pale yellow skirt of a woman standing in the center of the room. As they drew closer, a male voice filtered into the hall. But not just any male voice, it was unmistakable in its timber, accent, and cadence.

  Lucas was here.

  His presence explained why Charlotte had been so eager to have her don her new dress. This was no unexpected visit. Feet from the door, Catherine’s strides faltered as she held back, skittish as a mare being prodded toward a stallion well past breeding season.

  Without glancing back, her sister gave her hand a firm tug that sent her nearly stumbling through the doorway. She found her feet and her composure fast.

  Catherine’s gaze shot to Lucas first. If he was surprised to see her, his expression didn’t convey it. As a matter of point, his face conveyed little of anything. The charming smile that had greeted her on every other occasion was gone. In its place was an opaqueness that chilled her to the marrow of her bones.

  She quickly turned her attention to the room’s other occupants. His sisters Caroline and Lydia, whom she recognized from the ball, stood beside their brother. Lucas had introduced the younger one during the course of the night. Catherine had learned that contrary to what she’d estimated, Caroline was actually twenty years and her sister eighteen.

  Lydia was slender and of average height like her sister but possessed brown hair and eyes the color of evergreen. She was just as lovely as her older sister but in a quieter, tempered way.

  “Lucas has called with his sisters. Caroline and Lydia, I’d like to introduce you to my sister Catherine.”

  “So lovely to see you again, Miss Rutherford,” Caroline said smiling and performed a curtsey.

  Catherine laughed nervously, much too aware of Lucas’s presence to be at ease enough to converse as she normally would with his sisters. “Truly, such formalities are quite unnecessary.”

  Lydia, who appeared ready to sink into a curtsey of her own, straightened awkwardly. “Nice to see you again, Miss Rutherford. I wish we could have spoken longer at the ball. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you.”

  For a brief instant, Caroline gave her sister a hard stare but it vanished as quickly as it came, and she was all smiles again.

  “That is, Caroline told me how kind you were to her—you know with that whole business of Lord Billings.”

  This time the look Caroline sent her sister couldn’t be mistaken for the cast of a shadow or the rays of the sun hitting the glass of the window just so. It was the kind of fervid glare that told her in no uncertain terms to shut her mouth.

  From their silent exchange, Catherine could only conclude that Caroline must have confided in her sister about the testing of the baron.

  Guilt flashed in Lydia’s eyes while a passive-faced Lucas said not a word. Where was his turmoil? Why did he not appear the least bit dispirited or heartsick? She didn’t like this cool reserve of his.

  “Well it’s nice to see you both again. Pray, what brings you to Reading today?” Catherine asked.

  “We came to see Charlotte and the children,” Caroline answered.

  The familiarity of their address indicated they must know her sister very well. But of course they would, their brother had intended to marry her. The knowledge rubbed her raw but she willed away the pain it caused.

  “The girls were eager to see Nicholas again and meet Rose,” Charlotte said.

  “Where is Alex?” Catherine asked.

  “Off to London this morning,” her sister replied.

  Catherine did not think that a coincidence.

  Her heartbeat increased in velocity and intensity when she reluctantly turned to address the man who had the power to create that sort of havoc within her. “Lucas, I hope you are enjoying your stay in England.” She couldn’t very well ignore him even if he chose not to speak.

  He smile
d but his expression remained inscrutable. “My sisters are keeping me occupied.”

  “Yes, I’m sure they are,” Catherine replied and could think of nothing else to say. Not that she desired to converse with him. She was trying to act normally. He was not making it easy.

  An awkward silence fell then, his sisters going silent as if they too could sense the tension between them.

  “Caroline, Lydia, would you like to go upstairs to the nursery to see Rose? She should be up from her nap by now and Jillian and Nicholas should be home from the shop before long.”

  Excited nods greeted that question.

  Charlotte looked at her. “Wonderful, then you can entertain Lucas until our return.”

  Her sister wasn’t attempting to be the least bit subtle. She need only have brought a mallet and knocked her and Lucas on the head, tied them to a chair and locked the door on her way out.

  “I should love to see her again,” Lucas said.

  Her sister looked confounded. Struck dumb.

  Catherine bit down hard on her bottom lip to prevent it from trembling.

  Had he stood in the middle of the room and proclaimed, Charlotte, please cease your interfering. It is over between us, he couldn’t have made his feelings clearer.

  Catherine took a breath and said in as normal a voice as she could manage, “In any case, I should begin packing as I’ll be going home today.” It was clear she and her sister wouldn’t be spending the day together as planned.

  Charlotte swung back to her, a quiet desperation in her expression. “You’ll still be attending the Willoughby ball tomorrow evening?”

  Catherine’s gaze flitted to where Lucas stood silently watching her. Impassive as ever.

  “Yes, of course,” she replied.

  “Girls, would you like to attend a ball?” her sister asked, her tone all cheerful indulgence.

  Once again, her question was met by fervent yeses and furious nodding.

  “Does one not require an invitation for such affairs?” Lucas’s voice of reason cut his sisters’ excited chatter.

  “Lady Willoughby is a dear friend and when I knew you’d be in town on the night of the ball, I took the liberty of speaking to her about it. She is well acquainted with Lady Bailey and said she was most eager to meet her nieces.”