“We are well,” Mr. Watson answered. “These are my daughters. Miss Catherine Watson and Jane. I don’t believe you’ve met previously. Girls, this is Lord Benjamin, Lord Wembley’s son.” Jane was not yet out in society as Catherine was, although Catherine had never gone to London. Her parent’s offered it, though the expense would have been difficult, but Catherine said her place was at home. Inwardly, she could only think: who would ask the girl with the burns to dance? Still, this meant that to Lord Benjamin she would be Miss Watson, and Jane would simply be introduced by her given name.
Before Benjamin could correct the man to say that he had met his eldest daughter on a previous occasion, Catherine bowed her head slightly and curtsied. “My Lord.” Her hand on her sister’s shoulder gently pushed the younger girl down as well. When she rose, her eyes were fixed somewhere over his left shoulder, so she did not have to look him in the eye. “It is nice to meet you.” Her tone was calm, but he sensed she was in some turmoil. He knew he had probably caused it, that she thought he was staring at her injuries. Like the night of the fire, only with much lower stakes, he did not know how to comfort her and explain that he was as enchanted with her now as he had been that night, only for much different reasons.
Whatever it was that made her appear distraught, it was clear by her behavior that not only had he made a poor impression on her today, but also that she had no memory of him from that night. He told himself it wasn’t fair to expect such a thing when it had probably been the worst night of her life. And yet a part of him was deeply disappointed.
Then again, why would she remember him? It had only been a few moments when she had been drugged and in the greatest pain anyone could imagine. He could recall every moment of their conversation, but why should she?
“And you,” he murmured for politeness’ sake, though he couldn’t hide some sadness. Jane, who he guessed was between thirteen and fifteen, grinned at him. “I’ve just finished university and have been reacquainting myself with the village.”
“Oh. Was it wonderful?” Jane asked with excitement. Cat couldn’t help smiling fondly at her sister, who always loved the idea of any kind of adventure. She also had the innate ability to make even the most mundane moments seem like adventures. Though Cat was responsible for much of her sister’s care, because their mother’s lungs never quite recovered from the fire, Jane had been a saving grace. There was not time to feel badly about her situation when she had Jane to think of, and together, they laughed and smiled often. She rarely meditated on the sadness of the actual situation. Besides, what would be the point? God had spared her that night, and she was thankful for that, even if it remained a mystery how it was done. If she had to bear some scars, then she would.
She could not put into words why Lord Benjamin’s dark brown questioning eyes agitated her so.
“Do you mean was Oxford wonderful?” he clarified as Jane nodded eagerly. “I quite enjoyed it, but I am glad to return. There are certain things you miss without realizing it.” He had not felt that way until he saw Cat again. His eyes returned to Catherine, but her gaze, polite and distant, was determinedly set left of his head. His stomach sank as he realized she wanted nothing to do with him. Benjamin had never met a woman who had not sought out his attentions. Both his personality and looks attracted them to him like bees to honey. He never actually had to work at having the fairer sex think well of him.
“If I went away, I think I would miss the people most of all,” Jane continued cheerfully, too young to sense any tension in the air. Or, Cat mused, she could sense it and was just ignoring it for the chance to have an interesting conversation with someone new.
“It’s funny,” Benjamin mused. “But the people are quite fixed in your memory, so when you return everything is completely different yet wholly the same at once.” He wanted Cat to look at him just once. He wanted to know if her eyes were still as dark and blue as they had once been, if they still held bravery and wisdom far beyond her years. He wanted to see them happy, instead of filled with pain. “Would you agree, Miss Watson?”
Her eyes shifted to his in shock, briefly and surprisingly antagonistic, before retreating back into a purposeful, vacant blankness. She wanted to be away from him, and though she was usually mild-mannered, she did not care if he knew it. “I could not say, as I have never been away from home for any determined amount of time.” She looked at her father as soon as she finished replying, as if she wished for the conversation to continue between the two men without including her, but Benjamin wasn’t finished. A part of him realized he wanted a reaction from her while she seemed intent on not giving him one.
“Not even to London for the season?” he asked curiously.
She blinked in surprise that he would continue this line of questioning, especially when it embarrassed her. He had probably seen the most beautiful women in the world in London and danced with them as well. They had probably fought to dance with such a man as him. She didn’t believe in self-pity, though, so she set her shoulders and chose to answer him. “My sister will go when she is of age, but no, I have no reason to leave here.”
“Why is your sister to go when you will not?”
Her surprise turned to anger, though her voice remained level. He would not let her go! “It is not a matter of my willingness but rather a reason. I do not claim to have a reason to go.”
He told himself to stop as her cheeks flushed appealingly. But he didn’t stop. “Have you a reason not to go?”
She inhaled deeply before looking him straight in the eye for the first time. “I think you know that I do.”
“I’m afraid I do not know what you mean,” he retorted.
“You had no problem staring at the reason only a few moments ago,” she snapped, referring to her scars and the attention he’d paid them. How could he act so ignorant when he had so blatantly stared, caring nothing for her feelings? He was a gentleman, but she did not think a true gentleman would continue to pester her, like a cat playing with a mouse before it devoured its prey.
Ben could not explain that it was because he was remembering her and for no other reason. In fact, he realized that if he had to explain her appearance to someone else, he wouldn’t even think to mention her previous injuries. But he couldn’t say such a thing aloud, not with any sense of propriety.
Cat abruptly turned toward her father. “Papa, I just realized I forgot some ribbon for Jane’s new bonnet. May I return to the store and meet you at the carriage when I have finished?”
Her father agreed, and after she left, he apologized on his daughter’s behalf. “Her injuries are a very sensitive topic, Lord Benjamin.”
Benjamin looked him in the eye. “Which injuries? She looked perfectly healthy to me.”
“That’s very kind of you to say,” Mr. Watson replied.
“It isn’t kindness,” Benjamin snapped a bit too quickly. “It’s the truth.” He remembering wiping her cheeks and brow with the cloth. Now, his fingers itched at the idea of caressing her face. But it seemed she was not disposed to like him. She did not remember, and he had looked too long on what she longed to hide.
Mr. Watson watched him queerly, as if he was searching for the answer to a question. Whatever he found in Benjamin’s countenance caused him to invite the future earl to dinner, though the man was quick to admit that their home would never be as fine as what Benjamin was used to. Benjamin considered the invitation for a moment. He did not want to make Catherine uncomfortable, but perhaps he could improve her opinion of him. He would be glad to see them at dinner next week.
It hit him like a thunderbolt that he had never once particularly cared what any woman thought of him. But she mattered. She mattered a great deal, and though he could not completely explain it to himself, he also could not ignore it.
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2
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“And what do you know of love?”
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CHAPTER TWO
Dinner with a Lord
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The day Cat met Lord Benjamin, a strange, unpleasant feeling had come over her. In fact, it was so all-encompassing that when they returned home, much to her family’s surprise, Cat claimed a headache and went to bed. Her temples pounded, and she thought if she could only sleep then perhaps this awful day could be erased from her memory.
But that was not to be.
Instead, she dreamt of the night of the fire, her least favorite dream of all. In her dream, she knew she was a little girl, falling unconscious in her younger sister’s nursery. Only this time, she had the impression of strong arms picking her up, and in her dream, when she came to on the side of the house, she was not alone as she had been in reality. Instead, there was Lord Benjamin, holding her gently in his arms. Her mind skipped and jumped as she tossed and turned in her bed. Lord Benjamin, the same man from earlier in the day, dampened a cloth and placed it on her forehead.
She woke with a start, sitting up as quickly as possible.
It was so obvious she could not believe she had not realized it before. Lord Benjamin had been there in between the rush of doctors on the night of the fire. He had been a young boy himself, and he had been kind to her. She’d never forgotten the boy or their conversation, but she had also tucked that boy away with the rest of those awful memories. She’d never realized he was Lord Wembley’s son, Benjamin.
She didn’t know if this made the day better or worse. Should she have acknowledged his role from that night? Did he even remember her? She could not answer either of these questions, and she was subdued at dinner and the whole rest of the week as she both anticipated and dreaded the night Lord Benjamin would come to dinner.
“I do not know why you focus on your scars so much!” Jane said, days before his arrival.
“It is not I who was focused on them, but Lord Benjamin!” Cat insisted. “Though I cannot blame him. They are awful.”
“They are not nearly as awful as you think. Why, over the years they have faded so much…” Jane was forced to stop speaking on the topic with one look from her sister.
In general, Cat hated the attention her scars garnered, and more than that, she hated the pity that often accompanied that attention. Sometimes she wished that people would be openly mean and hostile. Since she had come of age, etiquette demanded some level of politeness, even if she could see just how grotesquely people viewed her, no matter what Jane claimed.
“You’re scowling,” her mother warned as they waited in the sitting room for Lord Benjamin’s arrival. They were all in their best dresses, and Papa had shined his own shoes. Cat stared down at her scarred hand against the white fabric of her gown. Because of the Fredericksons’ fairness and generosity throughout the years, a few families, once tenants, had risen to hold their own land. Her great-grandfather Watson had been one of them, and her grandfather after him had made a series of extremely successful investments. While they would never be as wealthy as the earl and his family, they were more than comfortable. The fire had changed everything though. Mr. Watson always said he was so glad his father had not been around to see it. Their house was smaller now, with only a cook, housekeeper, and lady’s maid the three females in the house shared. But it had never looked better, as everyone had worked hard to make it somehow acceptable to Lord Benjamin tonight.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” she replied and tried to relax her lips. Perhaps she didn’t know how she felt about his visit, but she did know that the handsome and self-assured lord, with the world at his feet, made her nervous in a way she had never experienced before. Usually, people didn’t bother her very much. But something about the way he watched her so intently made her want to snap at him, and his staring was not the only reason. She had felt as if he was poking at her, teasing her with his questions.
She didn’t want to think of the moment she’d awakened to a smoky bedroom, the air throbbing with heat, how she’d been determined to go to the nursery and rescue young Jane. Even if Lord Benjamin had been the kindest soul on earth, he still would have been a reminder not only of that night but also of the deficiencies in her looks.
The family stood as Lord Benjamin entered. “Thank you so very much for having me, Mr. Watson, Mrs. Watson.” Though he didn’t need to, he bowed slightly.
“It’s our pleasure,” her father replied cheerfully. Clearly, her father had no qualms about Lord Benjamin’s presence in the house.
Cat let out a little breath. Speak for yourself, Papa. Then she chided herself for holding a grudge. It wasn’t the Christian thing to do, but as his eyes scanned the room, they stopped on her figure. He was still staring! Her scars must be grotesque to him. She had long ago given up on mirrors because they only depressed her, and she had situated her life in such a way that she could remain optimistic. No matter her circumstances, she never wanted to grow hard or cynical. She was normally quite content with her life and hardly ever prone to self-pity. In many ways, the fire and the aftermath burned away her vanity and any desire for material goods or beauty. But something about the way he looked at her, his dark eyes taking in the whole of her figure and face, sparked some insecurities. She did not like it.
Of course, her mother had seated Benjamin by Cat at dinner, thinking that the young people would have something to talk about. How wrong her mother was! She had nothing in common with this rich, titled, handsome man, who had his choice of any woman in England. Thank goodness for small mercies, though, because at least her mother made sure the scarred part of her body was furthest from him. Though her white gown was a bit lower cut than she preferred, as the dress had originally been her mother’s, it was beautiful if not a little plain. The bodice was still perfectly acceptable, but sitting so close to him, she was suddenly aware of it. She tuned most of the conversation out, hoping the evening would be over quickly. But she could also not deny that her mother and father, even Jane, were laughing more than she had heard in a long time. His demeanor was kind and charming.
Occasionally, the fabric on his arm would brush her skin as they went through the courses. Each time, she felt a jolt, a frisson, travel from her arm to her belly, but she couldn’t say what it meant. She could, however, claim that no matter how hard she tried to put him out of her mind, this feeling only made her more aware of him and how very close they were seated together.
It was only dimly that she heard her father ask about Benjamin’s plans after university.
Lord Benjamin glanced at her, but she refused to return his look. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to look him straight in the eye while they remained so close. The idea of it made her nervous, which she simply could not understand.
“My friend Shep and I had talked about doing a tour of the continent, especially since it is mostly recovered from the defeat of Napoleon. But I think my parents would like to see me stay here for at least a little while,” Lord Benjamin answered.
“Excited to see the world, eh?” her father encouraged.
“Aren’t most young people?” Lord Benjamin asked. “Aren’t you excited to see the world, Miss Watson?” He turned toward her, but she automatically shook her head as she gazed at her plate.
No one had ever asked Cat such a question. In fact, she had never really asked it of herself. Ever since she had woken to the horrible pain in her neck and arm, she’d known that her life, with all its possibilities, was irrevocably changed. Someday, when she was older, Jane would marry and have children. But that would never be Cat’s happily ever after, and that was all right. Nor would she travel to see the parts of Rome and Paris she had read about in her father’s small library, and that was all right, too. No, her role would be to live simply and to take care of her parents as they had taken care of her.
“I believe I told you the last time we spoke that my place is here with my parents,” she said at last, since he was apparently waiting for her to speak.
Lord Benjamin
laughed. “I suppose in my case I’ll have to get used to living under the same roof as my parents again.”
His father winked. “I must admit, some tales of your… studies… even reached us.”
Cat wasn’t supposed to know what her father was talking about, but of course, she did. Everyone knew that Lord Benjamin enjoyed gambling, drink, and women, all while performing outstandingly at Oxford. Despite his moral failings, it seemed everything he touched turned to gold, much like the tassel he must have worn at university. When people spoke of him, whether it was a large sum of money he had won or a girl’s heart he had broken, they still believed the best of him because of the family he came from. She supposed that was also a part of his charm. “He’s a good boy,” the women of the town would say after they gossiped over it. Although it was quite clear that good or not, he was no longer a boy.
Cat wasn’t bitter about her life nor her future. She just didn’t normally dwell on her situation. She focused on being good and useful in light of her mother’s sometimes tenuous health. But something about the way Lord Benjamin looked at her opened up a box inside her soul she liked to keep hidden from even herself. Though she hadn’t met his eyes yet, the weight of his gaze made her heart thud heavily.
Regency Romance: The Earl’s Unforgettable Flame (CLEAN Historical Romance) (Fire and Smoke) Page 3