When her sister set her mind to something, she refused to be swayed. Lucas and his sisters were going to attend Lady Willoughby’s ball. Resisting her efforts would be futile.
“Unfortunately, my sisters didn’t travel with the kind of dresses one wears to a ball.”
“Then it’s a good thing I have such gowns. The gowns will only need to be shortened an inch or so. I don’t think they’ll even need to be taken in all that much,” she stated smoothly, looking altogether too pleased with herself.
“Well, then I shall leave them in your capable hands,” he said with a slight bow of his head. He knew when he was bested.
“Wonderful. Then it is all set. We’ll all have a grand time at the ball. Come girls, let us see if Rose is awake and then we’ll find you both something to wear to the ball.”
Catherine watched as her sister and the girls bustled from the room. Lucas held back and only turned to her when they were out of earshot.
“It was not my intention to intrude on your evening,” he said stiffly.
“Believe me, I know this was all Charlotte’s doing.”
“You needn’t worry that I will pester you anymore. I have accepted your decision. I hope meetings such as this won’t be uncomfortable for you.”
For several long seconds, Catherine couldn’t speak. Truly could not say a word. Her heart felt as if it had sunk to the pit of her stomach. Her lungs felt as if it couldn’t produce enough oxygen for her body to function properly.
“No—I mean of course not,” she said, her stammer and the sudden scratchiness of her voice indicating the exact opposite.
“And the ball? You don’t mind that we’ll be attending? I could make an excuse and tell Charlotte we must return to London.”
Why was he being so—so polite and—and calm about the whole situation while her nerves felt stretched tighter than a drum? To look at him, distractingly handsome in a dark green suit that did incredible things to his hazel eyes, he didn’t appear as affected by her company as she was his.
“No you must come. Your sisters will be disappointed if you don’t,” she replied, somehow managing to get the words out.
“Good.” He gave a curt nod. “No doubt I shall see you tomorrow evening then?” he queried, his gaze dipping to her mouth for an instant. Was it the play of light from the sun streaming through the window or was that desire she’d seen in his eyes. More likely it was a product of her own wishful thinking.
“No doubt you shall.” Her voice was soft, low, almost breathy.
“Well, I won’t keep you any longer. I know you must return home and I would like to see your beautiful niece again. Good day, Miss Rutherford.”
With that parting remark and the barest inclination of his head, he exited the drawing room.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Are you very angry with me?”
Catherine looked up from where she lay curled on her bed to see her sister standing framed in the doorway. Charlotte slowly advanced in, briefly stopping to close the door.
Lucas and his sisters had departed a quarter hour ago. Catherine had retreated to her room more than an hour before then. They had, after all, come to see her sister not her. And being in a room, chatting with Lucas as if nothing had passed between them, was something she simply couldn’t manage.
Catherine pulled herself up to a seated position and began absently smoothing her skirts, refusing to make eye contact with her twin. “How long did you have this planned?”
The mattress depressed beside her as her sister sat on the edge of the bed. “The girls desperately wanted to see me and the children. Lucas had promised them. And I wanted to see them too.” She shook her head and turned to stare at Catherine’s profile. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I didn’t manufacture a situation to bring the two of you together. But when one was presented, I used it to my advantage.”
“But what advantage is it really, for you to see us together.” Turning to her sister, Catherine said, “It is done, Lottie. Why can’t you understand that?”
Charlotte laughed bitterly, which was most unlike her. “Why can’t I understand it? Why? Because your insecurities are allowing you to throw away your greatest chance at happiness. And as someone who loves you and will love you until I take my last breath, I would be failing you if I permitted such a travesty to occur.”
Catherine reared back, surprised at her sister’s vehemence and stung by the sentiment expressed by her words.
Your insecurities. Your insecurities.
The two words played over and over again in her mind.
“You say it as if I have no cause to think it?” she retorted, her defenses now raised.
Her sister’s expression immediately became contrite. “No, Katie. That’s not what I meant. My frustration is obviously getting the best of me.” She inhaled a deep breath and angled her body toward hers. Grasping her hand, Charlotte looked her directly in the eyes, her gaze brilliantly blue and unwavering. “You know I love you dearly. I would do anything in my power to make you happy and if there’s one thing I know for certain, Lucas makes you happy and he loves you. I simply cannot sit idly by while you throw that away.”
A lump of despair formed in her throat. Tears stung the backs of her eyes and she blinked rapidly to will them away. “Lottie, it is not only about his feelings for you,” she said, her voice choked with emotion. “I’ve seen what all of this has done to you and Alex. Even if I were assured his love for me is real, I would never sacrifice your happiness for my own. Not—not after everything.”
“Oh my darling, there is absolutely nothing wrong with my marriage,” she cried. “My husband is just being stubborn. But you know Alex, his bark is much worse than his bite. He will come around because in the end, he wants me to be happy. And he knows I won’t be happy if you are not. I wager, in less than a year they’ll be getting on just fine.”
Catherine let out a humorless laugh.
“Oh, I’m not saying he and Lucas will ever be close,” Charlotte hastened to add. “But I do believe they will learn to get along well enough.”
“But Alex is so set against him.”
“Don’t you worry about Alex. I know exactly how to deal with my husband,” she assured her, a sly sort of smile on her face. “He knows that nothing can come between us now. We’ve been through too much and love each other too deeply. He claims his objection to a match between the two of you stems from your own fears that Lucas is using you as a substitute for me. Well once he is convinced that is not the case, he’ll have no reason to object. And nor will you,” she added softly.
“Yes, but I truly believe Lucas believes what he says. How am I to know for certain if he doesn’t know himself?”
Charlotte briefly dropped her gaze to their entwined hands and cleared her throat. “Well, I have been discussing the matter with Olivia and Meghan.”
A strangled sound emerged from Catherine’s throat, choking off her next breath. She jerked her hands from her sister’s. “Why on earth would you do that?”
“Well, something had to be done,” she snapped.
“Am I to presume they told you of the scheme they cooked up?”
“As schemes go, I think it’s quite brilliant. It will put all of your fears to rest. Yours as well as Alex’s.”
“You would tell him?” she squeaked.
Her sister chuckled. “But of course. But after the deed is done.”
Catherine laughed despite herself. “You are that certain Lucas will rebuff me—I mean you? I will not be able to seduce him?”
“Katie, I’ve not been more certain of anything in my life.”
Life would be so much easier if she possessed the same faith in Lucas as her sister apparently did.
In silence, Catherine vacillated between what her heart urged her to do and what her brain cautioned her against. Then there was her conscience.
Knowing her struggle, Charlotte recaptured her hand and held onto it tight. “Katie, you must forgive yours
elf,” she said, staring at her as if she could see inside her mind. “You mustn’t continue to punish yourself so.”
Instinctively, Catherine opened her mouth to deny that that was what she was doing, but the intensity of her sister’s gaze stopped her short. They both knew what she was saying was the truth. She herself had as much as admitted it to Charlotte the year past. So she remained silent.
“What is done is done. Neither of us can undo the past. But the worst we can do is not to learn from it. And what I hope we’ve all learned is that love is both fragile and strong. And not all of us shall get second chances. Alex and I were fortunate that you and Lucas joined forces and made it possible for us to reunite. If you won’t do this for yourself and Lucas, then I want you to do it for me. If you believe you owe me anything, then this is what I want from you, a chance for Lucas to prove himself to you.”
Catherine’s bottom lip began to tremble as a swell of love so strong for her sister came over her. She made it impossible for her to refuse. Pulling her sister into her arms, Catherine hugged her close and murmured in her ear, “Then I shall do it with your blessing.”
They’d only just stepped into the ballroom at Wesley Court when Olivia nudged her side and gestured to their left, pointing her white gloved finger ever so discreetly behind her silk-flowered fan. “Look, it is Lucas and his sisters.”
Catherine followed the direction of her friend’s sideway glance and had her breath snatched clean away. Not that she hadn’t been expecting him—she had. She’d simply forgotten how devastating he looked in black formal dress. The term masculine physique did not even begin to describe how well his broad shoulders and chest filled out his topcoat. Unlike most of the gentlemen in attendance, the shirt he wore under his charcoal-gray waistcoat was not a snowy white but a lovely pearl gray.
Their hostess, Lady Willoughby approached the trio with the voluptuous Lady Ramsey at her side. Catherine had to stifle the urge to walk over and grab the countess by the skein of false hair coiled on the crown of her head when she sidled up too close to him while their hostess performed the introductions.
Catherine had heard of the countess’s reputation. Widowed at the age of twenty-eight—which is bound to happen when a woman marries a man three times her age—it was rumored Lady Ramsey vowed never to marry again. It was also rumored that she was a woman of certain appetites so she simply took lovers, the more virile and handsome, the better, thereby making Lucas the perfect candidate.
“It would appear Lady Ramsey has decided on her next conquest,” Catherine said wryly, trying not to sound like a jealous shrew.
“You needn’t worry about her.” Standing on her other side, Meghan dismissed the countess’s interest with a flick of her fan. She’d arrived at the ball a good half hour before she and Olivia had made their appearance. “Lucas has eyes for you and only you. That will be proven in a matter of days. In the meanwhile, you must encourage him. The last thing you want is for him to lose hope completely.”
After she had returned to Rutherford Manor the prior evening, Olivia and Meghan had called on her—summoned by her sister no doubt. She had scolded them about their clandestine meeting with Charlotte and involving her in their outrageous scheme. Once her friends had endured her mild tongue-lashing, they’d immediately gotten down to the planning of it.
In the end, it was concluded that their biggest challenge was the difference in their voices. Charlotte’s voice had more of a lilt and her time in America had softened the distinct crispness of her English accent, although the distinction was no longer as strong as it was since her return.
Olivia had suggested that whenever Catherine speaks to him, she whisper. Meghan had suggested she not speak at all. The compromise had been that with daily practice, Catherine could come up with a fair imitation of her sister’s voice by the week’s end. Beyond that, she would endeavor to keep her interaction with Lucas to a minimum.
A woman doesn’t particularly require many words to seduce a man, Olivia had claimed, giggling.
Quite the contrary. I believe the less said the better, Meghan had chortled in response.
Her present problem was that only days ago she’d rebuffed him thoroughly and completely. And if she were to go by his manner toward her the day before, he was done with her. Now she was in a fix and needed to do an about face while managing to hang onto her pride, which would be the tricky part.
“He doesn’t appear heartsick over the loss,” Catherine said, sliding another glance his way.
Despite the fact he’d known she’d be in attendance this evening, not once since she’d entered the ballroom had he so much as glanced around. She’d thought to see him perusing the crowd for her, hoping to catch a glance. That was when she’d hold his gaze and bestow the kind of smile on him that would indicate her change of heart.
Instead, the countess remained the focus of his attention, his beautiful smile centered on her. Nothing in his demeanor would indicate a man whose heart had recently been crushed. In fact, he appeared quite cheerful, laughing now at something the countess had said.
Catherine’s eyes narrowed at the sight, and only when Meghan tapped her fan lightly on her sleeve, did she tear her gaze away.
“So when he asks you to dance, you will of course say yes,” Olivia commanded.
“That is if he asks me to dance. By the looks of it, Mr. Beaumont may have already moved on to greener pastures,” Catherine replied, striving to keep the green-eyed monster from casting its pall over her entire evening.
“My dear, there are no pastures greener than yours,” Meghan said, tittering, her eyes filled with mirth.
Her friend thought herself so excessively amusing. “Pray, Olivia, is your brother in attendance?” she asked innocently, knowing full well he was not. But the question had the desired effect for it immediately squelched Meghan’s merriment as she turned a rosy shade of pink, pursed her lips and glared at Catherine.
“No, Rhys is in London. He won’t return home until the house party. He said he had some news—”
“Come, let us say hello to Lucas and his sisters.” Meghan interrupted, apparently eager to get off the topic of Lord Granville. Looping her arms through hers, she firmly steered Catherine toward where Lucas, his sisters and Lady Ramsey stood under one of the two decorative balconies in the room. Olivia followed at a more sedate pace.
Lucas turned his gaze to her when they came within feet of him. It’s almost as if he’d been aware of her presence the entire time but had been studiously ignoring her.
Caroline gave a cry of delight when she saw her. She immediately tempered her jubilance and tentatively asked, “Charlotte?”
“It’s ever so difficult to tell the two of you apart,” Lydia said, looking at her equally perplexed.
Laughing, Meghan and Olivia agreed, claiming sometimes they were even confused. Lucas looked on in silence, his eyes fixed on her. He knew. Without her saying a single word but somehow he knew. Their plan was surely doomed from the start. She’d never be able to fool him.
“I shall give you another guess,” Catherine replied smiling, now acutely aware of Lucas’s proximity.
Both sisters laughed. Lucas and Lady Ramsey remained silent.
“Miss Rutherford, forgive me. I fear I shall never get it right the first time,” Caroline said but didn’t appear overly concerned about it.
“You have no need to apologize. I am quite accustomed to it.”
“Where is Charlotte?” Lydia asked, looking around as if expecting to spot her momentarily.
“Unfortunately, my sister was not able to attend tonight. The baby has been fussy so she didn’t want to leave her.”
They then moved on to dispense with the greetings. Lucas acknowledged Catherine with the same polite bow he bestowed upon her friends, but made no overtures of conversation, immediately turning to give the countess his exclusive attention.
Meghan asked Lucas’s sisters how they were enjoying their visit so far. While his sisters chattered a
way, detailing all the events they had attended and the places they had visited, Lucas and the countess drifted several feet away from the group.
While girlish chatter abounded around her, Catherine covertly watched as he continued to give Lady Ramsey his undivided attention. A smile tipped the corners of his mouth and the effect of it being thusly directed—as to say, not at her—caused her heart to pinch. And given the music and general sounds of revelry, his voice was too low for Catherine to clearly make out what he was saying.
The countess’s eyes shone. She stared up at him as if a dalliance between them was now a foregone conclusion, and one she anticipated greatly. And the way in which Lucas smiled as he leaned down to speak into her ear said he was more than amenable to the idea.
“Catherine, do you think you would ever go?”
At her name, Catherine willed the bile back down her throat and turned her attention back to the conversation she’d long stopped following. Lydia had spoken and was awaiting an answer.
“My apologies. My mind was elsewhere. Would I ever go where?”
“To America. Lady Olivia and Lady Meghan were just telling us they’d like to visit one day.”
Eyebrow raised, Catherine turned to her friends. Indeed? This was the first time she was hearing of this. Paris and Florence, yes, but if she remembered correctly, Meghan had stated in no uncertain terms that from what she had heard, the vast majority of the country was too barbaric for her tastes.
As if reading her thoughts, Meghan gave her a knowing look and declared, “Yes well if Mr. Beaumont is a representative of the men in America, I shall book a passage there tomorrow.”
“I fully concur,” Olivia said, her violet eyes shining with mischief. “Do tell us, are all the men in America as handsome?” she asked, addressing Lucas’s sisters.
“Why back home, my brother is considered an ogre. This past year alone, I don’t believe he was able to bribe a single woman into accompanying him on a stroll or in favoring him with a dance,” Caroline replied, all mock serious.
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