03 - The Wicked Lady

by Brenda Jernigan

  "Yes, she is. But there is more to Kristen than meets the eye." Trevor grinned, deciding not to reveal his lady's background. That would be a secret between him and Kristen for now. "Tell me. Did you find out anymore on Grandmere's jewels?"

  "Only that they have been scattered. The largest ruby is no longer in Scotland. It seems the Earl of Hayword purchased it for the then love of his life, Lady Carolyn Newberry. When they broke up, Carolyn sold the bauble, and that is where I've lost trail of that one. But never fear, I have several men hot on the trail."

  "With Grandmere's health failing, I would like to grant her last wish and have the stolen jewelry returned to her."

  "Do you really think the Scot stole her jewels?"

  "Not really. Grandmere blames everything on our neighbors. But the highwaymen were probably my own low-life Englishmen."

  "Nothing worse than a thief. oo bad you don't know one. They could steal back all your possessions, post haste," Rodney suggested innocently.

  Trevor had been about to take a swallow of bourbon but choked on his friend's comments.

  "Are you all right?" Rodney asked.

  When Trevor caught his breath, he grinned. "You know you might have hit on the perfect solution."

  Kristen hurried to her room. She couldn't let Trevor get under her skin especially since he now knew he could get his way just by kissing her.

  The man drove her to distraction. If he thought she was going to bow to his every whim, then he didn't know her very well. She'd seen how her mother had bowed and scraped to her stepfather, and he had treated her terribly. Kristen wanted no part of that.

  She could play along with this masquerade as long as she remembered that was all it was. But she wasn't fooling herself that this lust she felt could last a lifetime. Only love lasted that long, and in her young eighteen years, she'd never seen love, much less experienced it. She wasn't even sure it existed.

  Sighing, she removed her torn dress and slipped on a simple yellow day dress that Madam Marie had sent. Wouldn't it be wonderful to be loved and cherished by a man who loved her and only her? She couldn't think of anything that would make her happier, and she had no idea how it would feel to have a family where she truly belonged. She had never felt that in the hodgepodge family she'd been living in.

  Her bedroom door swung open, and she jumped, thinking it would be Trevor. Hagan bounced through, dressed in his new clothes.

  "Look at you, young man." Kristen smiled. "You look very proper."

  "Yeah. Trevor said the same thing." He strutted around for her and then frowned. "What about Pa?"

  "He hasn't changed a bit. He still reeks of whiskey. I'm so glad Trevor saved us, or we'd be back in his clutches."

  Hagan sat on the edge of the bed. "Did Pa hurt you, Kristen?"

  "Just a wee bit." She rubbed her swollen cheek, feeling the sore spot. "We don't have tae worry about that again."

  "Trevor would never do such a thing." Hagan shook his head, but she could see he needed reassuring. "Would he?"

  Kristen glanced at her brother's concerned frown, not knowing exactly what to say this time since they were in such different surroundings where she had very little control over their situation. "I don't think so."

  "I like Trevor. He bought me some clothes, and said I'd have something different for every day."

  "Did he now?" Kristen smiled. "I got a lot of nice things, too. I guess we owe him a lot."

  "Does this mean we have to pay him?" Hagan asked so innocently she wanted to cry.

  "Not exactly," Kristen answered in a light voice. "I'll explain it tae ye someday."

  "All right." Hagan jumped off the bed and moved over to the dresser where he started examining the perfume bottles. Scrunching up his nose at the lovely fragrances and giving a disapproving frown, he said, "Trevor said I can start my schooling next week. Someone by the name of Master Benjamin is coming to teach me some things. He's called a tutor. What's a tutor?"

  "I'm not sure." She shrugged. "It looks like ye'll have tae teach me what ye learn."

  Hagan swung around and looked at his sister. "Why don't you go to school with me?"

  "Because I'm too old."

  "But if you don't know nothing, how are you going to learn?"

  "I'm not sure. But someday, I would like tae be able tae read." Maybe somehow she could learn how to read along with Hagan.

  The next week when Mr. Benjamin came to teach Hagan, Kristen stood outside the open door to the schoolroom so she could hear what he was teaching Hagan. After all, she rarely saw much of Trevor because he was constantly working. Every time she went by his study, he had his head down, writing. Or some stranger would be standing in front of his desk.

  She was listening so intently that she didn't notice Trevor had moved up behind her to see what she was doing.

  Trevor smiled. So, she wanted to learn. He'd never known a woman who was interested in anything but sewing and clothes. But each day with Kristen brought a new surprise. Boring . . . she definitely was not. He hated to admit it, but he admired her spirit and feistiness. Each day with Kristen brought a new surprise. Carefully, he placed a hand on her arm.

  Kristen jumped.

  "Saints above! Ye scared me." She took a deep breath and clutched at her chest. "I--I just wanted tae see what Hagan was doing." She turned and blushed, making her even more appealing. "I guess I should be doing something, but there is nothing tae do."

  Trevor noticed how self-conscious she seemed, then she caught herself and added, "And ye are busy working."

  "I know what you were doing, and it's all right."

  "I just told ye what I was doing," she stubbornly insisted.

  "Kristen, I have learned to read your expressions very well. You can't read, can you?" He watched her defiant stance. She did care what people thought of her, and he was glad.

  "Dinna make fun of me!"

  "I'm not making fun of you." He folded his arms, taking a stubborn stance of his own. "I have no problem with your learning. If that is what you truly want." His brow lifted, giving her a chance to deny his offer. "From now on I'll have Mr. Benjamin teach you, also, if that will make you happy."

  Her shoulders slumped a little. "But I'm so old." She spoke with a light-bitterness.

  Reaching out, he took her hand. "You're never too old to learn. I wager you'd like to read and write. Am I right?"

  She nodded her head.

  "Then you shall have your wish." He smiled and hesitated before he added, "There is one thing I would like for you to do for me."

  Kristen knew it was too good to be true. He would probably want to sleep with her, and she wasn't ready for that. She wanted to wait until they got married. Even then, she wasn't sure she would be ready for her wifely duties. But how could she refuse a man who had been so good to her?

  "My grandmere's jewels were stolen by highwaymen about a year ago. I've been trying to track them down with the help of Rodney, whom you met earlier. I think one of the necklaces might show up at the Cranford ball."

  Kristen didn't immediately answer. She was so relieved that his request wasn't what she'd thought. She moved over to a chair and placed her hand on the back before she spoke. "Did I hear ye right, mon? Ye, the saint of goodness, wants me tae steal it back for ye?"

  "No," he said quickly. "I know you have a knack for spotting such valuable items. I will describe the jewelry and when you see it, you can let me know. Then I can make an offer to buy the item back."

  "Buy it back when it's rightfully yers? Ye gentry have a funny way of doing things."

  "It's called honesty, Kristen."

  "More like foolishness, if ye ask me," Kristen said as she left the room.

  When Kristen descended the stairs, Trevor couldn't believe the vision in front of him. She had dressed in a gown of pale blue silver over a blue satin slip. Trevor wondered if she knew she wore the colors of Scotland.

  Her hair was a glorious mass of curls pulled up from the sides and left to hang down her back.
But by far her most dazzling quality were those shinning emerald eyes that glowed at him with a radiance he couldn't ignore. She could say a lot with those eyes. He recalled how her skin felt, and he knew as he held her gaze with his that something was going on between them . . . something he liked.

  "Anything wrong?" she asked when he failed to speak.

  "No, sweetheart. I don't see a thing wrong with you."

  "Then ye like my dress?"

  "Yes, I would definitely say I like your dress." He nodded, then grinned. "You are magnificent!" It was amazing how she'd changed her appearance so quickly. Just putting on the new clothes seemed to have given her confidence. She now appeared aloof and regal, and he found himself very proud she belonged to him--well, almost belonged to him.

  Magnificent, Kristen thought. She'd just learned that word the other day, and she now knew Trevor had, in fact, given her her first compliment. She beamed beneath his approval and then sternly reminded herself it really didn't matter.

  Don't get attached, she warned herself. You'll only get hurt.

  The ride to the party was short, and soon they were walking up the stairs into a grand home surrounded by scores of carriages.

  Kristen felt very much alone as they entered the ballroom. She didn't belong with these people, and she was afraid of embarrassing Trevor. They paused, and a footman dressed in black tails announced, "The Duke of Chatsworth and Lady Kristen Johnstone."

  The room grew quiet and Kristen felt as if every pair of eyes were on her. Self-consciously, she straightened her posture. Then, the chattering resumed at a faster pace than before. Now she really felt awkward as people turned to gape openly at her. "Everyone is staring," she whispered as she tugged on Trevor's arm.

  Trevor leaned over and whispered, "They are staring at me, so relax." He patted her hand and gave her a reassuring smile.

  "Why?" she asked.

  "Because I am titled. I usually don't attend these events."

  "Why?"

  "Mothers are looking for titles for their daughters."

  There were so many pretty ladies, she didn't know why Trevor wouldn't be flattered by their attention.

  Kristen went over every detail of her appearance. She knew her dress was appropriate. She only hoped the rest of her held up and she didn't make a complete fool out of herself.

  After tonight everyone would know she was Claremont's fiancée, and she was surprised at how proud that made her feel. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she'd end up marrying someone like Trevor. Come to think of it, she never thought she'd marry anyone. Now she wondered if fate had somehow pushed her to pick his pocket.

  Trevor tried to guide her past the two ladies whom Kristen had seen leaving the dress shop earlier today. The older woman had a different idea and stepped in their path.

  "Your Grace, it's nice to see you here," Mrs. Clanton said. "My Elizabeth has yearned to dance with you. I told her tonight she'd get her chance."

  "Mama!"

  Elizabeth blushed, and Kristen felt sorry for the girl's embarrassing situation.

  "I will be honored, Elizabeth." Trevor turned toward Kristen. "That is if my fiancée will not be overly jealous." He pulled Kristen close to him, placing his arm around her waist. "Ladies, I would like for you to meet my future bride."

  Kristen knew her soon-to-be husband was baiting her. "Of course, I dinna mind if ye dance with Elizabeth. Tae be sure I'll dance with others also." Kristen smiled sweetly at Trevor, then turned her attention back to the young girl. "It's nice tae meet ye." She smiled at Elizabeth, feeling very sorry for the girl who seemed to have an overbearing mother.

  "Yes," Mrs. Clayton commented, then added in a haughty tone, "Isn't this a bit sudden?" Her expression held a touch of mockery.

  Trevor raised a brow. "You know what they say about true love." He pressed gently on Kristen's waist, and they moved away from the nosey old woman and on to another group.

  Kristen smiled and listened, all the while thinking how shallow and boring these people were . . . and most were snobs.

  How could Trevor like any of them? They were such phonies and much too busy trying to impress everyone. That left very few who were truly themselves.

  Kristen gazed out across the ballroom and marveled at the beautiful dresses in every color imaginable. For just a moment, she could see another ballroom with a lady who looked just like herself dancing with a very distinguished gentleman. They were a fine looking couple, gazing lovingly into each others' eyes. Then a child of no more than three or four ran up to them and the couple swung her up into their arms.

  She shivered and blinked several times. Why did she keep slipping back into this imaginary world she had created for herself--and at the most unexpected times? She had done it since she was a child. She could understand creating an escape world when she was on the streets. But now things were different, and the vision was happening more often. Perhaps she was a little touched in the head.

  "Are you all right?" Trevor's expression showed his concern.

  "Aye," she murmured and followed him to a secluded nook of the ballroom.

  Finally, when they were alone, Kristen whispered to Trevor. "Do you really like these people?"

  He shrugged. "Perhaps a few. Why do you ask?"

  "They are so bumptious." She knew her face must be very pink because she could feel the heat in her cheeks, but that didn't stop her from continuing. "If this is all ye have tae call friends, no wonder ye came looking for me."

  Trevor chuckled. "I dinna come looking for you." He mocked her accent, and Kristen frowned at him. "If you recall, you found me."

  " 'Tis true." She smiled. "Must have been fate. But yer the one who decided tae keep me."

  He looked deep into her eyes. All the humor had left his expression. "It's a decision that I haven't yet regretted." He lowered his head as if he was going to kiss her.

  "We'll have none of that," Rodney said, walking up behind them. "It's bad enough you've shown up at the Cranford ball when you've not attended another function in the last six months. That, in itself, is enough to set the tongues wagging, but then you make an appearance with your future wife, which--" Rodney chuckled, then continued, "--has sent many a young woman crying to her mother. And now you have the audacity to show everyone that you might care for this woman by kissing her in public and crushing what little hope the mothers had that Kristen was merely a passing fling." Rodney took a deep breath. "Just where is your decency?"

  "Rodney, did anyone ever tell you that you talk far too much?" Trevor asked.

  "Yes." Rodney grinned, adding, "On occasion."

  "Good, because I didn't want to be the first." Trevor grinned. "Who are you here with?"

  "No one," Rodney replied offhandedly, then reached over and grabbed Kristen's hand. "This way, I can be the first to dance with your lovely lady."

  Kristen tried to suppress a giggle as Rodney led her onto the dance floor. She hadn't uttered a sound, but once they were in the middle of the crowd she found her voice. "I canna dance."

  Rodney peered at her for a long minute. "You're serious, aren't you?"

  "Very." She nodded her head.

  "Then, I shall teach you," he simply said. "Here. Put your hand on my shoulder and the other goes here." He took her hand in his. "Now don't be so stiff and watch me. Move when I move, and don't look down." He cautioned. "There is nothing to it."

  Kristen concentrated hard. She even insisted they should stop several times, but Rodney wouldn't hear of it.

  After stepping on Rodney's feet a couple of times and apologizing profusely, she seemed to finally catch on. Once she did, she liked the fluid movement.

  "What is this dance called?"

  "A waltz. Do you like it?"

  " 'Tis fun once ye master the steps."

  "You are a very good pupil. Watch this," He pulled her a little closer.

  "What?" Kristen looked at him with a puzzled expression.

  "Look over there at Trevor."

&n
bsp; She turned her head. "He's frowning. So?" She looked at Rodney again. "Trevor frowns a lot. I dinna ken why."

  "Because he's jealous of me holding you much too close. He hasn't taken his eyes off you since we started dancing."

  "He canna be jealous." Kristen actually laughed. "He doesn't love me."

  "But he's marrying you."

  "'Tis true, but it isn't love. 'Tis merely an agreement."

  "Listen, sweetheart, I don't know what you mean by agreement, but Trevor would not be marrying you if he didn't feel something. No matter what he has told you. He seldom does things without a good reason."

  "Ye sure about this?"

  "Most definitely." he said with a significant lifting of his brow. "He never does anything he doesn't want to do."

  "I'm not tae sure." Awkwardly, she cleared her throat as the music faded away. "Thank ye for teaching me tae dance."

  "You're very welcome, Kristen. I hope you will think of me as a friend, too." He leaned down and whispered as he took her back to Trevor.

  Trevor stood staring at them with his arms folded across his chest. And he wasn't smiling. "It's about time you returned her." He couldn't believe this sudden irritation he felt. After all, someday, he would give Kristen her freedom and then he'd have his. That's why he'd made the bargain in the first place--no demands would be made. But damn it, when he was around, he expected her undivided attention. They would have to have a long talk about what he expected of her once they were married.

  "I thought perhaps you might like to dance, so I've graciously brought Kristen back to you."

  A satanic smile touched Trevor's lips. "Thank you for your permission."

  The violins shifted to a new tune. Trevor swept Kristen up into his arms, and they began to move around and around until she felt she was floating on a cloud. He was a much better dancer than Rodney, and Trevor held her much closer. She could feel the heat seeping through the material of her dress, and she realized she felt much too content with his arms around her.

  His hands splayed across her lower back, and she couldn't catch her breath for a few minutes. She probably should be saying something, but all she could do was stare at his dark blue eyes. It was amazing how they could change from dark to light. What was he thinking? More importantly, how did he feel? He held her as if she was a most treasured prize, yet he never said a word. But then, what was she to expect? Theirs was a business arrangement.