The Right One (One and Only Series)

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The Right One (One and Only Series) Page 8

by Samanthya Wyatt


  What had the blasted man been thinking? If he didn’t want to marry her, why did he offer? Whetherford’s will was made of iron.

  She had to try once more. Turning to him, she took a deep breath. “Please. I beg you to reconsider. This is not necessary.”

  His eyes narrowed. “How do you know your uncle—at this very minute—doesn’t have a shotgun or a preacher on hand?”

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  He elevated that cocky brow. “Am I?”

  The carriage stopped and a footman opened the door. She groaned in desolation.

  Dear Lord. What was she to do?

  Whetherford stepped out and extended his arm to assist her from the carriage. His hand covered hers, activating a leap in her pulse as they took the steps together. The front door already open, her uncle’s butler bowed in greeting and took Whetherford’s hat.

  Instead of allowing the servant to assist her, Whetherford helped her with her redingote as if he had every right. And weren’t they here to announce their betrothal—when she wanted nothing more than to kick the overbearing man out.

  Come now. Did she really? He may be arrogant, but there were times when he simply took her breath. Like now. He stood too close. His tangy scent assaulted her senses. Nerves ran amuck. Clearly there was something wrong with her—wishing he’d given her a real proposal, wishing this had been a love match.

  But it wasn’t.

  His gentlemanly honor. He cared enough to set things right, to protect her reputation. Considering how she fought the idea every step of the way, there was no use considering such foolish notions now.

  Aware of his gaze on her, she shoved her traitorous thoughts aside. Whetherford stood with his arm aloft, obviously waiting for her to place her hand on his sleeve. She stuck her nose in the air and marched forward.

  “Katherine. Thank the good Lord!” Aunt Elizabeth opened her arms. Kat rushed across the room and straight into her aunt’s warmth. Tears ran down her cheeks.

  “There, there, child. You’re home, at last. There, there.” Aunt Elizabeth held her until her sobs quieted.

  Uncle Albert took out his handkerchief and handed it to his wife. “You are home, safe and sound.”

  Her uncle’s voice drew her to him. His caring arms enveloped her. She absorbed his warmth and comfort, while her aunt took the offered linen and dabbed at her own weeping eyes. Whetherford cleared his throat making Kat tense. For a moment she’d forgotten him.

  “Katherine.”

  Good Lord he’d used her Christian name. Whetherford’s voice had the ring of authority and indicated he would not be put off.

  A wide range of emotions came over Uncle Albert’s face.

  She kissed her uncle’s cheek. “Uncle, this is Lord Whetherford. Lord Whetherford, this is my uncle, Lord Thornton and my aunt, Lady Thornton.”

  “Lord Thornton,” Morgan said as he gave a slight bow. Then he turned to her aunt. “Lady Thornton.”

  “Thank you for bringing our niece home,” Albert said.

  “Yes. Thank you, Lord Whetherford. We’ve been so worried.” Aunt Elizabeth looked back to Kat. “Dear, are you all right?”

  Seeing the worry in her aunt’s face, Kat’s heart cracked. She grabbed her small hands and squeezed in reassurance. “Aunt Liz, I am fine. Really I am.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip wondering if she should just blurt out she was to be married. Guiltily, she imagined Aunt Liz sensing her need for confession. The anxious look in her aunt’s eyes made Kat cringe in remorse —and at the same time made her want to rant at her betrothed.

  “If you’re sure, dear,” her aunt said. Then she turned to Morgan. “Please, Lord Whetherford. Sit. You must tell us everything. I will ring for refreshment.”

  Kat wanted to put off the inevitable as long as possible. “Uncle Albert, we’ve traveled a long way.”

  “Of course. Why don’t you and Elizabeth go upstairs? Lord Whetherford and I have much to discuss.”

  This is not what she had in mind. Who knows what Whetherford would tell her uncle.

  “Lord Thornton, I . . .” Whetherford started.

  Oh my God! He could not be so cruel as to announce their engagement now? She loudly interrupted, “Maybe our guest should be shown his rooms.”

  Whetherford’s scowl was back and even darker. “Katherine, don’t you want to tell them our news?”

  The blasted man got the words out before she had a chance to stop him.

  “What news?” Aunt Elizabeth’s brow creased in an agitated frown. “Katherine, what is it?”

  Drat. And double drat. “Nothing . . .”

  “We are engaged,” Whetherford said.

  Chapter 9

  Thornton ambled over to the majestic oak table and raised the lid to a leather box. Pulling out a pipe, he added tobacco. He looked over his shoulder. “My wife puts up with my vices. She doesn’t mind if I have a puff of my pipe now and again. May I offer you a cigar?”

  “No thank you,” Morgan replied.

  Thornton struck flint and held it over the top of his pipe. The flame bent down, crawled inside and danced up again while wafts of smoke curled into the air. “You don’t smoke?”

  “I prefer a cheroot at times, out of doors.” Morgan studied Thornton as he calmly strode across the carpeted floor. His frame portrayed a man of confidence and power. He’d not given any indication of his thoughts to the scene in the parlor, where only moments ago Morgan had bleated his betrothal like a bloody sheep. He could still see the shock on Katherine’s and her aunt’s face when he burst out their news. Bloody hell. If Katherine would have given him time to think, he wouldn’t have done that. But she’d been determined on getting him out of the room—the exasperating wench. Her relatives needed to be told and waiting wouldn’t have made it any easier. Being a man of action, he did not dawdle. She already had him frustrated as the very devil. He refused to drag his feet when it came to announcing his intentions—whether the female was willing or not.

  That’s what got his gourd. The bloody woman didn’t want to marry him. He’d only thought she’d been angry. The look that had come to her face could have sent his soul to hell.

  Good God! He had a title. He had wealth. He was willing to correct his mistake. What the deuce did Katherine want? Blood?

  “Not in the house?” Thornton’s voice jolted from his tirade.

  It took him a second to recover. “I like looking at the stars. Somehow, the combination of the two has an incredible calming effect on me.” He’d rather be outside right now. Instead of standing here like a lad ready to receive a lecture.

  Thornton gestured toward a decanter. “Care for a brandy?”

  This is what is called going the long way around the barn to get to the door. Thornton had an objective, and he would take his damned sweet time getting there. Morgan was in no position to hurry the man. Guess he deserved the dressing down that was sure to come. Why hadn’t Thornton been more outraged, or demanding?

  “Forgive me,” Morgan said. “But, I am a bit surprised you accepted me so easily into your home.”

  “You brought my niece back where she belongs.” Thornton raised the bottle, silently offering the drink again.

  “Yes, thank you.” Morgan gave a slight nod of assent. He admired Thornton his patience.

  After handing Morgan a glass containing a generous measure of amber liquid, Thornton took his seat behind the large oak desk. He settled back in comfort, with the ease of a man ready to unwind. Morgan half expected the man to prop his feet on the desk. His expression shuttered, he gazed toward the sun shining in the double set of windows.

  “It took some doing to calm Elizabeth down, once she discovered her niece gone.”

  So his tactic was to instill guilt—as if Morgan hadn’t al
ready dealt with self-reproach. Adding his wife’s distress was obviously a maneuver to gain an edge.

  “Lord Thornton. I am beyond remorse for what happened. Please accept my word as a gentleman, your niece was not harmed and I will do everything in my power to make it up to her. There is no excuse, but I ask that you allow me to explain.” And what explanation could possibly excuse him from this debacle. If he had been the one in Thornton’s chair, he would have tarred and feathered the scoundrel for taking his niece. Not invite him to his damned study for a discussion.

  Thornton put the pipe to his lips. He inhaled, opened his mouth, and a whirl of smoke drifted in the air. With his gaze still on the gray cloud he replied, “Very well.”

  Thornton appeared relaxed and without a care. But Morgan had spent enough time honing his own skills to recognize a man on his guard. This man hid secrets. And he would not willingly divulge anything, unless he wanted to share. The shrewd expression on Thornton’s face matched the man Giles had described. Morgan chose his words carefully.

  “I came to London looking for a certain female. A lady who took something from me. She bears a remarkable likeness to Katherine.” Since they were to be married, he supposed her uncle would think it suitable for Morgan to use her given name.

  “I passed the alley when I heard a woman’s cry. I hurried down the back street and found Katherine. She had not been harmed,” he added quickly. “But the two men objected to my interference. We fought. I won, but I was stabbed.” Morgan rubbed his side—the wound still throbbed at times.

  “I lost consciousness. When my men found me, they mistakenly assumed Katherine was the woman I’d journeyed to London to locate.” Morgan braced himself for Thornton’s reaction to his next statement. “They took her to my home, Whetherford Manor.”

  One dubious brow rose in question—or intimidation. “They took her?”

  “She stayed in a guest room.” He didn’t add she’d been locked up as a prisoner against her will.

  With his elbow resting on the arm of the chair, Thornton held his pipe out to one side. Both brows arched, he stared down his nose. “I can’t imagine my niece going along with your men peacefully.”

  Morgan was not about to explain how correct her uncle was in his assumption. And he still had to deal with Jeremy. Wesley had taken pity on the scoundrel and hauled him off before Morgan was out of his sickbed. “I accept full responsibility for everything that happened, including the actions of my men. I know my duty as a gentleman. I have asked Katherine to be my wife.”

  “Your duty.” Thornton studied his pipe for much too long. “And what did my niece say?”

  Morgan resisted the urge to clear his throat. He was not used to sitting in the interrogation chair. Usually the roles were reversed. “She is my betrothed. With your permission, we will be married as soon as arrangements can be made.”

  “Well now,” Thornton said as he leaned forward. “That’s quite something.”

  Morgan frowned. “Sir?”

  Thornton placed his pipe in a marble dish. “You see, Whetherford. I don’t imagine Katherine accepted your proposal any more calmly than when your men spirited her away.”

  What the hell was he supposed to say to that? Blood and the devil!

  His eyes sharp, his rigid features softened. “We love Katherine very much. But that girl gave us every grey hair we have on our heads.”

  Moments ticked by. Baffled by Thornton’s calm attitude, Morgan kept his confusion hidden.

  “Don’t worry, my boy. I know who you are.” Thornton reached for his pipe and fingered the stem. “If your reputation is to be believed, you are never distressed.”

  From years of habit, Morgan’s instincts kicked in bringing every nerve in his body on alert. Wouldn’t you know Katherine’s uncle turned out to be the very man Giles warned him about. Giles had indicated this man was of considerable importance. “And what do you know of my reputation?”

  “I know you vanished years ago and returned home only recently. I know you are an honorable man.”

  Evidently the man had learned—and now concealed—more information than he let on. And it didn’t have anything to do with Whetherford Manor or the Earl. “My title does not make me honorable.” At Thornton’s steady gaze, Morgan added. “Although, I am an honorable man.”

  Thornton’s lips lifted at the corners. “You may rest easy, it won’t be necessary to announce an engagement.”

  Morgan checked to make sure his mouth did not hang open. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You do not need to protect my niece. We kept her disappearance quiet. As far as the ton believes, Katherine was in the country with her friend, Viscountess Roxborough. No one would dare question the Viscount.”

  Marriage to Katherine would be no hardship. He could spend the rest of his life feasting his eyes on her beauty. Not to mention the thought of her in his bed. That idea was unwise for many reasons.

  Morgan shook his head and found his tongue. “Astonishing how you managed to keep her absence a secret.”

  “The Viscount was accepting of the tale to appease his wife.” Thornton puffed his pipe, leaned his head back and sent a spiral of smoke to the ceiling. “His wife has been Katherine’s confidant ever since my nephew brought my niece to us.”

  There was the mention of her brother again. Morgan leaned back and braced one ankle over the opposite knee. “Katherine’s brother?”

  Without giving away his thoughts, Thornton answered with a shrug. “Yes. Stephen prefers water to land. Anyway, you don’t need to worry about him. He knows nothing of her disappearance.”

  Thank God for that!

  “Since no one knows of her . . . indiscretion, it is not necessary on your part to enter into a marital arrangement.”

  Morgan wasn’t sure if the weight on his chest had just lightened or grew heavier. Indiscretion?

  “My niece can be very stubborn. When she sets her mind on something, she’s worse than a bull charging after a red flag. And in this instance, her emotions ruled her actions—you see, her brother pondered heavy on her mind.” Thornton took another puff on his pipe and continued.

  “Katherine has put off suitors for years. There’s been more than one spurned swain offering marriage, I’m afraid.” Thornton let out a deep sigh. “It’s my fault. I agreed she would be allowed to choose her husband.” Thornton put his pipe to the side, then placed his arms on the large desk and leaned forward. “I appreciate your integrity. But, she did not choose you.”

  Morgan blinked. Thornton had surprised him. Again.

  “Your arrangement with my niece obviously developed because of your moral sense of obligation. Your willingness to save her reputation has earned my regard and raised your character even higher in my esteem. But, you see, I want my niece to be happy.”

  Morgan focused on the words even higher in my esteem. “So you are releasing me from my promise to marry Katherine?”

  “Come now. You were forced on each other. Her disappearance has been kept quiet. There is no threat to her and no need for you to forfeit your freedom due to her willful action—although quite understandable.”

  “Are you sure Katherine will agree to rescinding my offer? I should not want her to feel slighted.”

  Thornton’s brow rose in disdain. “We are talking about my niece.”

  Apparently he knew his niece well. Katherine had voiced her disagreement quite strongly. Morgan suspected she would be quite pleased with this outcome.

  He drained the brandy from his glass. “Very well. If Katherine agrees, we will not announce an engagement.”

  Thornton started to rise. “Thought you’d . . .”

  “However,” Morgan’s fingers tightened on his glass. He weighed his options as Thornton settled back in his chair. “There is another matter I’d like to discuss.�
��

  His face darkened “Does this involve Katherine?”

  “No sir. It does not.”

  Although cautious, Thornton did not give his emotions away.

  “You seem to know me—or should I say of me. The Duke of Nethersall is a close friend.”

  Thornton eyes deepened with speculation. His lips compressed as he leaned back in his chair, distancing himself. “Ahh. I understand. The duke told you of our meeting.”

  I must be getting soft. This habit Thornton had of shocking him assaulted his certainty. Being put off guard was more than he could swallow. Thornton had again taken control of their conversation. Morgan narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips in a tight line. “He mentioned it.”

  “Do you think I would let a man in close proximity to my niece, let alone allow him to walk into my home without learning every detail of his history?” Thornton asked with complete ease.

  This grew more interesting by the moment. He could not imagine how Thornton could be any more on guard than he was now.

  “That explains your calm manner when I delivered Katherine home. It also explains why you are prepared to quash a marriage proposal and why you are willing to accept my word. What did you mean by ‘Katherine’s willful act was understandable’?”

  Thornton clasped his hands, placing them in the center of his desk as he faced Morgan. “Katherine is quite close to her brother. He captains a ship. Owns two more. He’s been absent for some time. She must have overheard me telling my wife of Captain Danvers’ ship docking. He made a few inquiries for me, asked around about Stephen, that sort of thing. Katherine has a mind of her own. That’s why I didn’t tell her. I knew she might try to go to the docks for any information on her brother. Which is exactly what she did. I later discovered she was on her way to Captain Danvers’ ship when you happened upon her.”

 

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