by Amelia Grey
He believed her. Her blue eyes had lost their sparkle, and her beautiful lips had no hint of a smile. Now she was the one upset, and he didn’t like the way that made him feel.
“I don’t need anything from you, Catherine. If I helped you, I wouldn’t need any payment for it.”
“I understand that now. I’m afraid I didn’t think how my offer would sound. I suppose if you aren’t willing to help me find my father, you won’t be interested in the other thing I was going to ask of you.”
All annoyance left him and he suddenly felt like laughing. How could she have him completely outraged one minute and dying to kiss her the next?
“There was more?” he asked.
“Yes, but I don’t want to upset you further, so I won’t say a word about it.”
He couldn’t let her get away with that. “Oh, no, you don’t. I insist you tell me—”
“John, how are you?”
“Sweet damnation,” he muttered under his breath as he looked up and saw Lord Colebrooke and his new wife, Isabella, heading their way.
This was murderous. He’d been to the park three times last week and never saw the first person he knew, but now today they were showing up every two minutes.
He took a deep breath, set their wine glasses aside, and rose before helping Catherine to stand. John remained as polite as he’d been with his previous two introductions, and Catherine enchanted the newly wedded pair just as easily as she had the others.
Thankfully Colebrooke and Isabella apologized for not being able to stay longer and visit, but they were on their way to an appointment. As soon as their farewells were said and their backs were turned, John reached down and emptied the contents of their glasses on the ground and put them back in the picnic basket.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“We’re leaving. I’ve had enough of these interruptions.”
“I guess that means our delightful afternoon in the park is over.”
“Delightful? You do have a way with words, Catherine. This afternoon has not been amusing in any way. Everyone I know seems to be in the park today. I want to go somewhere we can be alone.”
He picked up his hat and stuck it on his head. He threw his gloves in the picnic basket and draped the blanket over his arm.
“Let’s get out of here quickly before someone else stops by.”
Fifteen
AS THE CARRIAGE bumped along the crowded streets of the city, John and Catherine remained painfully quiet. John was busy with his thoughts.
Catherine had gotten his attention, in more ways than one, and he needed to do some serious thinking about her. He liked the fact that she had a goal and she was sticking to it, even though the odds were not in her favor. If the man who fathered her didn’t want to be found out, he would never own up to having been with her mother.
John wasn’t sure Catherine was ready for such rejection.
What really had him thinking was the fact that he had never had an important goal like that in his life. His objective had always been to win the next card game, the next horse race, the next lady to court, or even the next mistress to hire.
He didn’t know that he had ever had a goal that was truly worthy.
Why had it taken him so long to realize that? And why had it taken a lady with a very significant purpose to get him thinking?
Years ago his uncle pushed him to take his future and his title seriously by insisting he marry, take his place in Parliament, and get interested in the politics of England and the rest of the world. But even Bentley had grown tired of trying to force John to settle down to his responsibilities.
His uncle hadn’t mentioned his duty to his title in years until yesterday. John had great respect for his mother’s brother, but he had never given heed to any of the man’s prodding to marry and produce an heir.
Suddenly, those things seemed a bit more important than they had just twenty-four hours ago. And John was rethinking a lot of things, including Catherine’s request for assistance.
He hadn’t wanted to help Catherine in her quest only because he didn’t like the thought of digging around in someone else’s past—especially a gentlemen’s past. There was an unwritten code that wasn’t supposed to be broken. But he was now weighing that against Catherine’s yearning to know the identity of her real father.
John realized Catherine was saying something to him and he turned to face her. She had a pensive expression on her face.
He said, “I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.”
“Yes, I could see that you were thinking. We just passed the last turn that leads to my street.”
“That’s because I’m not taking you home yet. We’re going somewhere we can be alone for a few minutes. The park was as crowded as Lady Waverley’s party last night, and we haven’t finished our discussion.”
“Everyone knows the only reason to go to the parks is to see and be seen.”
John returned his attention to his driving. “Not me. Not today.”
He scanned the streets looking for anyone who might be familiar to him or Catherine. He didn’t want someone they knew to see him turn down the next street, not with her in the phaeton with him. It wouldn’t do for her to be seen with him in a carriage in the wrong section of town. He was taking a big chance, but he didn’t know of any other way to get her truly alone. They certainly couldn’t talk at ease under Mrs. Goosetree’s watchful gaze.
He made a right turn and then another quick left. Halfway down the next street he took another right and then stopped the horses in front of a building that looked like a livery with two large doors, but there were no markings or names on it anywhere.
John jumped down and knocked soundly on the door. Within a few moments the door opened. John whispered to the old man who answered and then climbed back up on the phaeton.
The double doors were swung wide. John clicked the ribbons, and the horses took the carriage inside the large, empty, and windowless room that was lit by low burning lanterns hanging strategically from the walls.
Catherine’s eyes grew wide with amazement as she watched the old man close them inside while John set the brake.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“We’re in a building I own. The old man used to work for the Prince until he hurt his leg in an accident. He takes care of this place for me. He has a room through there”—he pointed to a door—“but for now he’ll take a walk outside.”
John watched as her gaze skimmed the bare, wooden walls to the dirt floor. He knew she could smell the cold-packed earthen floor, oil from the lanterns, and stale tobacco smoke. The only sound to be heard was the nickering of the horses and the rattle and jingle of their harness as they shuddered and tossed their heads in the air.
“I’m wondering what he takes care of. The room is empty.”
John chuckled as he took off his hat and his gloves and laid them on the floor at his feet. “I see what you mean. Different men rent it from me for various things.”
“What can they do with a vacant building?”
“Usually it’s set up with tables for private card or dice games. Or it has been used for boxing matches and cockfights. Things like that. Rory sets the room up according to what will be going on in here. I know it’s not the best place to bring a lady and it’s a bit chilly in here, but this was the only place I could think of where we could be completely alone and wouldn’t be interrupted.”
She looked around the room once again. “This is very private. I don’t think anyone will find us here. And it’s much bigger than Lady Waverly’s closet.”
“And we don’t have to whisper,” he added.
“Or have furniture sticking in our backs.”
John chuckled. He hadn’t minded the chair leg poking his back. Nothing bothered him when Catherine was in his arms.
Yellow light from the lanterns gave a beautiful glimmer to her skin. She didn’t look or sound anxious, but for his own peace of mind, he asked, “You aren’t frighten
ed to be here alone with me, are you?”
She shook her head and smiled. “I trust you.”
Those three words soared through him and made him feel so damn good it was ridiculous. No woman had ever had that kind of power over him before. That was going to take some getting used to.
“I’m glad you know I would never do anything against your will.”
She smiled at him. “I do. I’m just surprised you want to be alone with me considering I upset you earlier.”
John relaxed against the back of the carriage cushion and put his arm across the top of the seat. Catherine turned more facing him and pushed her hips in the corner between the back and the arm of the cushion.
“That’s what I wanted to talk about. I guess I was wondering why you have such determination to find your real father when you obviously have great respect for the man who’s been your father all these years.”
Her expression turned serious. “I would have rather not known any of this. I was very happy thinking that the man who I lived with for almost twenty years was my father, and in truth I know he always will be. He was good to me, but that doesn’t satisfy the yearning I have inside me. I want to know who my mother loved and why they never married. I want to know if I look like him, walk like him, think like him.”
She paused for a moment and then said, “Perhaps I can best explain it by simply asking what would you do if you woke up tomorrow morning and discovered the previous Earl of Chatwin wasn’t your real father.”
“I have to admit I’ve never given anything like this a thought.”
“I think you would feel as if you had been living a lie through no fault of your own and you would have a determination to find out the truth just like I do.”
“Perhaps.” That was all he was willing to admit.
“Most people don’t have to think about a situation like this. You can’t understand because you are an earl’s son and you have always known your heritage. I need to know who I belong to. It has nothing to do with not loving the man whose name I bear. It has to do with how I feel about there being something in my past that I don’t know the answer to. How can I not try to find out what that answer is?”
John swallowed hard. He would never have known she had these feelings inside her. He liked the fact that she didn’t wear her troubles on her sleeve and that she kept them to herself.
“My mother loved a man enough to give herself to him. I’m the creation of that union. I deserve to know why he didn’t marry her when she told him she was carrying his child.”
“And you are sure she told him.”
“As sure as I can be. In the last readable diary entry she wrote that she planned to tell him about her plight that evening. I want to know what happened when she told him. Did he feel nothing for my mother and only want to dally with her? Was he promised to another lady and felt he had to honor that vow? Was he just a coldhearted man who could ruin a lady and leave her with no thoughts of how she would cope?”
John listened intently. He truly wanted to understand what she was feeling. “What if this man doesn’t want to know about you?”
She took a deep breath and shifted in the seat. “I’ve thought about that, and I realize that it is quite possible. However, I’m not going to worry about it because I’m doing this for me, not for him. I believe he knows he has a child, and as far as I know he’s never looked for me. I couldn’t have been that difficult to find for a man with means. How he feels about hearing from me is not as important to me as how I will feel once I know who he is.”
“And how will you feel?” he asked softly, watching how the warming glow from the lanterns played on her delicate skin.
“I don’t know. I hope to feel complete. Right now a piece of my past is missing. A very important piece. The only way I can explain it is to say I must keep searching until I have the answers.”
She wasn’t quibbling over what she had to do. She was resolute and that impressed the hell out of him.
“And what will you do after you’ve found him.”
“Confront him with my questions. Ask him what happened between him and my mother that they never married.”
“What will you do if he doesn’t give you the answers you seek?”
“I don’t want to cause him any trouble if that’s what you mean. It is my desire to keep all of this private between my father and me. And I don’t want any support from him. My father—the man I always thought was my father—left me a handsome income. I’m not looking for money. Just answers.”
“No, I didn’t think you wanted support from him.”
“A lot of things will depend on how he reacts. I want to know what made him run out on my mother in her time of greatest need. I want to understand so I’m not constantly wondering why. I’m their daughter. I have a right to know these things.”
“For your sake, when you find him, I hope he agrees with you, but no matter how he responds to you, what do you plan to do after this search is finished?”
She folded her hands in her lap and said, “I will go on with my life and do what Victoria wants me to do, what all young ladies do. I shall look for a proper husband and get married.”
“I envy you,” John suddenly said, and didn’t know why he’d been so truthful, but he wasn’t unhappy he’d said it.
She gave him a look of disbelief. “What? You envy me? Why?”
“You know exactly what you want and you’re going after it. And not only that, you’re not afraid to do it. You have plans.”
“I have no choice. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering who my father was.”
“How do you think I can help you?”
“I need introductions to the men. As an earl they will willingly allow you into their house and you can introduce me to them so I can get to know them.”
“Who are they?”
“Mr. William Walker Chatsworth and Mr. Robert Beechman.”
This won’t be easy.
“Those are two good family names, but I don’t know how to say this other than to tell you that both men are strange ducks.”
“I’ve heard of their idiosyncrasies, but I’ve also heard that Mr. Chatsworth enjoys visitors and card games. I’m very good at most games. If I could get him interested in a card game, then I could casually ask him if he remembers my mother and then take the conversation from there.”
She was incredible. He had no doubt that in time she would find out all she wanted to know.
“How do you know he enjoys a good card game?”
“I’ve found out a few things on my own simply by asking questions.”
“Indeed you have.”
John’s admiration for her grew. He reached over and picked up her hand and held it in both of his. Her skin was warm even though it was cool in the windowless building.
“I’m going to help you, Catherine. I consider it a challenge to help you find him, and I promise you we won’t rest until we do.”
The glimmer in her eyes turned into a bright sparkle. “John, do you mean it?”
“Every word of it.”
He would find her father for her. He’d never wanted to really get involved with a lady or her problems until he met Catherine. But he was intrigued by the prospects of trying to get private information out of these two men.
“Thank you, John, thank you.”
She reached over, threw her arms around him, and kissed him soundly on the lips.
The brevity, the chasteness of that one unsolicited kiss hit him so hard his trousers tightened.
As if realizing what she had done, Catherine suddenly pulled away from him and moved far to the other side of the cushion again.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I won’t do it again. I promise. I don’t want you to think I was trying to repay you for your help with kisses.”
She looked so stricken for a moment that John had to laugh.
“I didn’t think that. We’ve already settled that issue, but you said there
was something else you were going to ask me to help you with. What was that?”
She gave him a doubtful look. “Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“Of course I do.”
“I wanted to ask you to continue your interest in me for a little while longer—even after you tire of me and seek the charms of another lady. If you continued to pay attention to me, that would keep Victoria happy. She enjoys trying to outwit you and that would keep her so busy she won’t be eager to marry me off to the Marquis or the first acceptable man who offers for my hand.”
If only Catherine knew he had no interest in anyone but her she wouldn’t have to ask that. And the last thing he wanted was Mrs. Goosetree trying to marry her off to Westerland or anyone else.
Where were all these notions coming from? He’d never thought about settling down to one lady. He’d always resisted the natural instinct to think about a wife, a home and a family. He’d never wanted that kind of life and he’d meant it. He’d scoffed at anyone who did. Why were those thoughts invading his mind now?
Catherine was making him rethink a lot of things.
“That won’t be difficult at all. I will help you with both your requests.”
Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. “Are you teasing me, my lord?”
He scooted over closer to her and cupped her chin with the tips of his fingers. “I wouldn’t do that to you at a time like this. Not when you are so serious.”
He saw relief wash down her face. Her expression sent his heartbeat racing against his breathing, and suddenly all his thoughts centered on the heat between his legs.
“I can’t thank you enough for doing this.”
“No more thanks. I’ll need more information from you, but we can talk about that on the way home.”
“All right.”
“I’d like to read your mother’s diary for myself. Perhaps there’s some clue or something you’ve missed.”
“I’ll see you get it right away. John, I’m so—”