by Amelia Grey
“Yes. For a fee, of course, you understand. And I would let it be known I’m available only after I have you safely betrothed to Lord Westerland or Lord Chatwin, which shouldn’t take too much longer. One of them is bound to make an offer very soon. Everything seems to be falling right into my plan.”
Catherine knew Victoria well enough to know that if she spoke in favor of something, Vickie would talk against it.
With that in mind Catherine said, “Vickie, I’m not as old or as wise as you, but from all I’ve heard, Lord Chatwin is not a good choice for me. I understand he will give a lady attention for a few days and suddenly start paying court to another without so much as a good-bye.”
“You cannot believe everything you’ve heard about the earl. It can’t all be true.”
Catherine smiled to herself. Victoria had said just the opposite last night. Obviously it didn’t take much to sway her.
“Lord Westerland is not nearly as handsome, or charming or friendly as the earl.”
“Friendly?” Victoria screwed up her face into a frown. “That has nothing to do with which man will be the better husband for you. I must admit that Lord Chatwin presents the bigger challenge, so naturally he would be the better choice. And I find matching wits with him quite stimulating.”
Sometimes Catherine didn’t understand Victoria’s reasoning.
Catherine sipped her chocolate and pondered her half sister’s words. Yes, Lord Chatwin was a challenge.
“Other ladies have not known how to make Lord Chatwin seek their daughters. I do. We will not fail, dear Catherine. I know what I’m doing.”
“I’m not sure I want a husband,” she said as thoughts about her real reason for being in London swept through her mind once again.
Vickie’s brown eyes rounded in horror as her lips formed an O. “That’s blasphemous! Of course you want a husband! All young ladies do.”
Catherine had to smile because Victoria looked so stricken. “I meant right now. I would like to have time to get to know more people here in London.”
“Lord Chatwin is young, handsome, and titled. He will provide well for you and give you many children. What else could you want?”
“How about love?” she asked, remembering her conversation with Lady Lynette, remembering how Lord Chatwin’s kisses had made her feel passion for the first time in her life.
“Love? You don’t know what it is and neither do I. Perhaps there really isn’t such a thing as love. Those kinds of fanciful notions only exist in poetry and daydreams, and it seems only to affect young ladies like you.”
Lord Chatwin certainly had all her senses on alert, but could she ever love him?
“I don’t know anything about love,” she admitted, “but I think I should look for a man who will love only me. Not someone who will give me attention for a few days and then move on to another lady.”
“Don’t worry about anything like that. It’s not important right now. All that will work out once you are married.” Victoria rose from the stool and turned back to Catherine. “Finish your chocolate. The only thing we need to do is get him, or Lord Westerland, to offer for your hand, and I’m working on ideas about how to accomplish that.”
And Catherine had her own plan she was going to be working on tonight. And she’d start with seeking out Lady Lynette.
JOHN DIDN’T KNOW what was wrong with him. He must have eaten something that hadn’t agreed with him. He felt restless, which was unusual for him.
Not only that but he kept watching the front door with the anticipation of a youth waiting to look at his first nude. He wanted the next person to walk through the front door of his uncle’s home to be Miss Reynolds.
The party had started well over two hours ago. Champagne flowed, flowers graced corners and tables, and hundreds of candles burned throughout the house. His uncle’s dinner parties were always well attended, and the one tonight was no exception.
The music had remained lively and John had already danced with three young ladies who had just been presented at court. But right now he couldn’t even remember what they looked like. He had no one on his mind but Miss Reynolds.
He knew the two sisters had other events to attend. Miss Reynolds had said as much, but he’d been hoping Mrs. Goosetree would decide to pass on the other parties and come directly to his uncle’s house.
It didn’t appear they had done that. And he was beginning to think they might not show at all.
He couldn’t help but wonder whether Mrs. Goosetree sincerely didn’t want him pursuing Miss Reynolds or if the older sister was just trying to make him appear eager? She wouldn’t be the first to have tried it. The odd thing was that it had never worked before, and he kept telling himself that he couldn’t let it this time.
Still, he kept watching the door.
For some reason, he had the feeling that Mrs. Goosetree fancied herself smarter than he, and it was clear that she was trying to outmaneuver him where Miss Reynolds was concerned.
But John could play that game, too. Maybe after tonight he should appear to have no interest whatsoever in Miss Reynolds. That should set the formidable Mrs. Goosetree on her heels and send her scurrying to do his bidding.
But he also had to be careful. After all, Miss Reynolds had stolen his horse. There was always the possibility she had something else up her sleeve, although John had seen no evidence of that.
He couldn’t ignore her, so he would pursue her, but he would do it on his own terms and he would be wary.
As soon as that last thought sifted through his mind, Miss Catherine Reynolds walked through the door and into the room. John felt as if his heart leaped from his chest into his throat. His breathing grew shallow and fast as his heartbeat accelerated.
She was a lovely young lady like so many others he’d taken note of over the years. But Miss Reynolds was stronger in determination and more capable of holding her own with him than most of the ladies he’d known.
She wore a beautiful gown in the color of aged pearls. A wispy layer of delicate lace covered her skirt and the short sleeves were sheer lace, making her look even more feminine. The simple round neckline plunged just enough to make him want to see more of her creamy white breasts that were hidden beneath the bodice of her gown.
His lower body swelled in anticipation of the possibility.
Her hair was swept up in a light chignon with little white blossoms woven through it. Small golden curls delicately framed her face. She smiled at the servant when she handed over her cloak.
He watched as her blue eyes quickly scanned the packed room. Anticipation raced through him. Was she looking for him?
His breath caught in his throat for a moment. He felt different whenever he looked at her, and that was something he’d never experienced with any other lady.
She’d admitted she was attracted to him, and she had been receptive to his kisses earlier that morning, but then most ladies were amenable to his overtures, so what made her special?
John knew she couldn’t see him from where he stood on the third stair because he was hidden behind a column. But he could see her clearly.
For a fleeting moment he wanted to race down the stairs, greet her, and monopolize her time. He wanted to stake his claim on her before another man dared. But his mind told him to be sensible.
He was no longer an uncontrollable youth even if his lower body and his heart were suddenly feeling that way. John knew the danger of showing any one young lady too much attention. That was a good way to become leg-shackled. If he wasn’t careful, the Society pages would have him all but married to her.
That she had come to his uncle’s party was enough—for now.
It was his turn to make Mrs. Goosetree wait. He’d seek Miss Reynolds’s attention soon enough.
In the meantime, he’d make sure he said hello to every young lady at the party and have another dance or two before approaching Miss Reynolds.
John folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the column
. He chuckled to himself. He’d been caught with his own game. He was usually the seducer, but not this time. He didn’t know quite how she had done it, but Miss Reynolds had seduced him.
Nine
“Behold a pale horse: but what is the name that sat on him?” There is no doubt that Lord Chatwin rode atop his horse in Hyde Park today, but who rode him yesterday? Who is the mysterious lady who was seen riding his mount? More than one person bears witness of her. Lord Chatwin is staying quiet on the subject, while the other member of The Terrible Twosome, Lord Dugdale, defends his friend so vigorously one can’t help but wonder why the gentleman protests so much.
Lord Truefitt
Society’s Daily Column
OVERHEAD CANDLELIGHT BATHED the room with a soft golden glow as lively music, chattering, and laughing drifted from corner to corner of the room. Beautiful ladies clothed in satin, silk, and lace danced with fine-looking gentlemen dressed in elaborately tied neckcloths and coats with tails in the crowded drawing room where furniture had been shoved to the walls to make room for all the guests.
Catherine watched as Lord Chatwin danced, twirled, and bowed to yet another young lady as the four-piece orchestra struck up another familiar tune. She was glad she hadn’t set her sights on the handsome gentleman, for surely he was living up to his reputation of being a man for all the ladies.
He didn’t seem to favor one with more attention than another. He danced with them all: young, old, tall, short, and every lady between.
Victoria took a glass of champagne from a server who was passing with a tray and patted her foot on the floor with determination.
“Imagine!” She huffed in an irritated voice. “I can’t believe that Lord Chatwin invited us to this lavish affair and has not been gracious enough to even show his face to us for the entire evening!”
Catherine hid a smile behind her gloved hand before saying, “Vickie, how can you stretch the truth so far? The entire evening indeed. We haven’t even been here an hour yet, and the night is still young.”
“With the way he has treated us, it feels as if we’ve been here days.”
Catherine shook her head in amusement. “You are too impatient in all that you do. For a small dinner party there are a great many people here. Lord Chatwin probably hasn’t even seen us yet and we were too late for the receiving line.”
Victoria sipped the champagne, then fanned herself vigorously with her intricately hand-painted fan. “Oh, botheration, Catherine! He’s seen us all right. I’m sure of it.”
“I thought it was his uncle who invited us to this party. I should think he is the one we need to make sure we speak to.”
“Yes, yes, of course, the invitation came from Mr. Hastings and we will speak to him. But I’m just as certain that it was Lord Chatwin who put him up to sending it. In my day, a gentleman would have never treated a young lady so shabbily as to invite her to a party and then completely ignore her. Not even the rogues of years ago were this bad.”
“How can you say we’ve been ignored? We could have made a point of going up to the earl and saying hello to him.”
“No, no, my dear, that is not how this works. Lord Chatwin must seek us first. He’s no doubt playing the same game I’m playing, but he will not win.”
Catherine didn’t mind the cat-and-mouse game Victoria was playing with Lord Chatwin or the Marquis. It was her hope that it would keep her sister occupied and her mind off any young man who might be a serious contender for Catherine’s hand. As long as games were being played Catherine had the time she needed to find her father.
“And what game is that, Vickie?” Catherine asked, trying to keep her gaze and her thoughts off Lord Chatwin.
“Hard to get, but worth the wait. Most men want the thrill of the hunt. They don’t want to catch their wives too easily.”
Catherine laughed again, though she had been wondering, too, why the earl seemed to be talking and dancing with every young lady but her. Perhaps now that she had let him kiss her, he had already grown tired of her and was in pursuit of another lady?
For some reason that thought caused an empty feeling in her stomach, but she refused to let it consume her.
“From all I’ve heard in the short time I’ve been in London, Lord Chatwin seldom behaves as a proper gentleman should.”
“Yes, that is true, but things are different now. You are in my care, and I intend to see that he doesn’t treat you this way. This is an outrage.”
“Perhaps you are being overly sensitive. I think he was just giving us time to avail ourselves of the buffet and get something to drink.”
“Perhaps, perhaps. But just maybe he is trying my patience on purpose. Well, I will not allow him to fluster me. I can wait him out. Watch me. If we must, we will give our regards to his uncle and leave the party without having said a hello to him.”
“But, Vickie, that would be impolite,” Catherine said, realizing she didn’t want to leave the party without speaking to the earl and asking if there had been any problems with his horse.
“As if he would notice.” Victoria took another large sip of her champagne. “Do not let this cause you one moment of chagrin, my dear. I have everything under control and I know what I’m doing. He is not the only titled bachelor in Town. The Marquis of Westerland would suit you nicely. You do remember him, don’t you?”
“Of course. I danced with him. We’ve discussed him.” Catherine wished Lord Chatwin had never indicated to Victoria that she did not have a good memory even if it had gotten her out of trouble at the moment.
“No doubt he has attended other parties this evening, which is what we should have done. This one is not up to the nines.” Victoria fanned herself. “Now that I think about it, I don’t believe their two families get along very well.”
“Why is that?”
“The on dit is that the Duke wanted Lord Chatwin to marry his youngest daughter, the Marquis’s sister, and Lord Chatwin declined even after a handsome dowry was announced. No matter, we will see the Marquis again. Perhaps later tonight or tomorrow evening for sure.”
Catherine didn’t want Victoria setting her sights on the Marquis, or any gentleman who was seeking a bride. The Marquis was tall and handsome, but she had felt nothing of the excitement she felt whenever she was near Lord Chatwin.
Since Lord Chatwin didn’t want to make a match, he was the perfect man for Victoria to be after. If Catherine could keep the earl’s interest, it would give her the entire Season to meet Mr. Beechman, Mr. Chatsworth, and Mr. Wickenham-Thickenham-Fines and find out which of the three was her real father.
And the lady who could help her find out more about the man she sought just walked into the buffet room.
“Vickie, I think I will go and speak to Lady Lynette, if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I think you should. She’s the Duke of Knightington’s daughter. You must not forget that.”
“I haven’t forgotten, nor shall I,” Catherine said, trying hard not to sound irritated at Victoria’s continued reference to Catherine’s lack of memory.
“The poor girl has few if any prospects of marriage with that dreadful birthmark, but you couldn’t make a better friend. Now run along and be sure to give her my regards.”
Lady Lynette was drinking a cup of punch when Catherine walked up to her and said hello.
“How lovely to see you again,” Lady Lynette said with a smile on her face, “And please, let’s don’t be so formal. I consider us friends after our long conversation last evening. You must drop the lady and address me only as Lynette. May I call you Catherine?”
“Yes, of course. Thank you, Lynette.”
“That sounds so much better. Are you enjoying your evening?”
“Very much.”
“I thought so. I’ve noticed that you’ve been watching Lord Chatwin.”
Lady Lynette was either very perceptive or she had the eyes of a hawk. She didn’t seem to miss a thing. There was nothing to do but admit to the truth.
“He’s very charming, too. He’s one of the few gentlemen who will dance with every young lady no matter her age, beauty, or rank, and he makes every one of us feel as if he could fall in love with us when he looks in our eyes.” She sighed. “But alas, he never does.”
“I’m sure that must be true. He’s been dancing ever since I arrived tonight.”
“That’s not unusual. And don’t worry. He will get around to asking you.”
As much as Catherine wouldn’t mind talking about the intriguing earl, there were three other gentlemen she wanted to discuss.
“Oh, if he does, he does. If not, I think I shall live.”
Lady Lynette laughed. “And so you shall. I see so many young ladies who think they will die if they don’t get offers from certain gentlemen.”
“I’ve heard enough about him from Victoria to know there is nothing to be gained by giving your heart to Lord Chatwin.”
“I used to think that Lord Chatwin couldn’t be caught, but ever since the first of the Terrible Threesome, Lord Dunraven, married last Season, I’ve changed my mind. However, I had always thought Lord Dugdale would be the first to marry.”
“Why is that?”
“It’s no secret that his lands are encumbered, so I’ve just always assumed he would consider his duty to his family and make an advantageous match.” Lynette smiled. “Maybe I’m wrong and he’ll hold out for love.”
“For love? Truly? A man?”
Lady Lynette’s eyebrows twitched. “Why not?”
“While I’m quite willing to accept that most women believe in love and long for it, I wasn’t sure any man would admit to such a fanciful notion.”
“I think they have such feelings. A gentleman can become just as smitten over a lady as a lady over a handsome face and physique.”
Catherine smiled. “I’ll consider that encouraging.”