by Regina Scott
He smiled. “Very convincing. You almost make me believe you had nothing to do with the man who dogged my steps the last few nights. And he was good. I very nearly missed him as well. But I am on to you, my dear.”
Katherine felt cold all over as she shook her head. “My lord, I promise you, no one in my household has followed you in days. If you do not believe me, think back to your experience yesterday. You must have seen that Bixby is our only male servant.”
He frowned as if realizing she spoke the truth. “Then who?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps you should inform Bow Street.”
He nodded. “Yes, of course. Forgive me. I naturally assumed you had had a hand in it.”
Of course he would make that assumption. Most likely he had never had the misfortune to meet a managing female like her before. But the thought that someone might be after him for nefarious purposes made her blood congeal in her veins.
“This is horrid!” she cried, rising to pace. “Why should you be followed? Could my work have somehow encouraged others to think you carry valuables? Will you be set upon by cutthroats?”
He rose to catch her by the shoulders. His touch somehow managed to stave off the worst of her chill. “Don’t blame yourself. I’m certain there is a logical explanation, and it has nothing to do with you. Besides, I can take care of myself.”
“The spies!” She pulled away from him to bring a hand to her mouth. “You are their next target!”
He chuckled, and she was surprised at the bitterness in the sound. “Oh, no, Miss Collins. These rumored foreign agents could have no interest in me. I used to think I was made for adventure, but the last few days have proven to me that I am not cut out for espionage, as someone else once pointed out. No one wishes me ill. When I die, it will likely be from some old man’s disease like gout. That is, if I do not die of boredom first.”
Before she could respond, Constance bustled back into the room. “So sorry to have kept you waiting, my lord.”
“I would wait an eternity for the right woman,” he replied, turning to kiss her hand. She dimpled. “Sadly, however,” he continued, “I have another engagement. I must take my leave of you.”
As Constance’s face fell, Katherine shook herself. He was no doubt right. There was a logical explanation for this new shadow. Perhaps after seeing Bixby or Eric behind him for so long, he had merely conjured the image of another. In any event, she should trust him to care for himself. At the moment, the most important thing was to get him to call again.
“Oh, how disappointing,” her stepsister was saying. “Well, of course you must go if you have another appointment. Will we see you again soon, my lord?”
“I expect my estate to keep me busy the next few days,” he replied, moving toward the door. “Perhaps after that.”
Katherine’s heart ached to watch her stepsister hurry after him. “But surely you will be about in Society. We will see you at balls, the theatre? Perhaps Almack’s?”
“Possibly,” he allowed, pausing as if afraid to be impolite. “I tend to run in a different pack, I fear.”
“But we have some acquaintances in common,” Constance protested. “Mr. Whattling, Mr. Sloan, the Willstencrafts.” The girl reminded Katherine so much of a loyal hound that she nearly cried aloud.
Lord Borin seemed to be similarly moved. The coolness of his face lessened, his lips moving into a smile. “Yes, of course. Do you plan to attend Lady Janice’s ball next week? Perhaps I might see both of you there.”
“Assuredly,” Constance promised. His gaze, however, sought Katherine’s. He looked to her for understanding. She took a breath and nodded. He bowed and left.
Constance let out a sigh. “What a very presentable gentleman. We must encourage him to keep calling.”
Katherine agreed, but she found it hard to hope after their conversation.
“We must dress with care for this ball,” her stepsister continued. “Both of us.”
Katherine shook her head. “What I wear can make little difference. I am not courting, if you will recall.”
To her surprise, Constance did not demur. “And does not your showing reflect upon me?” she challenged, hands on hips.
Katherine frowned. “I never thought so.”
“Then think. I saw the way Lord Borin looked to you just now. It is your approval he seeks. If you wish him to continue calling, you must encourage him. We must give him every reason to further the acquaintance.”
With that, she could not argue.
Indeed, she did not fight her stepsister when Constance insisted on fitting one of her dresses to Katherine. It was a soft spring green silk that whispered as she moved. The cap sleeves and low neckline made her feel scandalously unclothed, but she had to own the feeling was not entirely unwelcome. She would have been quite pleased with the dress if she hadn’t kept thinking how her stepsister would react if Lord Borin did not respond to their overtures and refused to continue to call.
The night of the ball she could not help being pleased when Sir Richard decided to join them. They made a merry threesome in the hired coach, and it was only when she was standing with Constance at the edge of the ballroom that she remembered how important this night could be. But then they were surrounded by gentlemen begging for a dance, and she was more than a little surprised to find that many were interested in partnering her. She was more pleased to see Constance led off by the handsome Marquis DeGuis. Perhaps they didn’t need Lord Borin’s services after all.
The thought of never seeing him again spoiled the next two dances for her.
–
Sir Richard smiled as he watched his wards dance. Katherine was finally dressed in something more fitting to a pretty young woman than a matron. Constance was more lively than usual; to his eye, she outshone every other young lady in the room. Both were much sought after. He’d need to be on his toes to make sure no young fellow lost his head. He grimaced as his thigh reminded him just how hard staying on his toes was going to be.
But it was not entirely the young fellows for whom he worried. He spotted his old supervisor, Lord Hastings, in the crowd and noted the strategic placement of Allison Fenwick, Lord Trevithan, and Davis Laughton. Trev and Davy were two of his lordship’s top men, more often to be found in the field than in London Society. That they were here tonight could only mean the rumors of the foreign spy were true or they wanted to prevent the rumors from coming true.
He glanced about the room again, wondering which smiling face masked a traitor. The Willstencraft family, holder of the Marlton earldom, were generally high sticklers. They were also high fliers. Gilt dripped from the candle sconces on the Chinoiserie walls, the scrolled backs of the chairs in the dowager’s circle, the branches of the chandeliers overhead. The dance floor was of Italian marble, the hearth of Indonesian teak. Every attendee was draped in silk and satin and finest wool. Gentlemen raised fluted crystal in toast to bejeweled ladies who dimpled at the compliment. Music floated on the perfumed air. Nearly everyone seemed to be having a marvelous time.
Only two faces in the crowd looked less than pleased to be among the select group. One belonged to Constance’s cousin. Lord Templeman was glowering as the Marquis DeGuis favored the girl with a second dance. No reason to wonder at his concern. Sir Richard knew that Katherine was correct in her assumption that Templeman was already counting his fortune. He rather hoped Constance did settle on someone, if for no other reason than to cheat the odious fellow out of the money.
The other person who was obviously distressed surprised him, however, for it was Lord Borin. The handsome lord stood at the side of the ballroom and glowered almost as darkly as Lord Templeman, but it appeared to be Katherine who had earned his censure. Sir Richard glanced at his niece again and saw only a smiling young woman. As he watched, she seemed to notice Lord Borin’s gaze on her. She stiffened. Then she purposely brightened her smile and fluttered her lashes at the gentleman who was partnering her. The poor fellow actually missed a step so tak
en was he with the sight. Borin grabbed a flute from a passing footman and quaffed the contents.
What was this? Borin jealous of attention to Katherine?
Sir Richard smiled. What a lovely end to this mess that would make. He would have to see what he could do to help things along.
If he knew those two, he’d have his work cut out for him.
Chapter Twelve
Alex was not enjoying the ball in the slightest. He could see Lord Hastings, Trevithan, and Laughton casually circulating and knew exactly what they were about. They were attempting to get to the bottom of this rumor, and they suspected the culprit was at the ball. Instead of flitting about like a blasted gadfly, he should be helping. But after Lord Hastings’ refusal, he wasn’t sure how welcome his assistance might be.
Even worse, however, was the way all the gentlemen were ogling Katherine. He knew one kiss did not tie her to him for life, particularly when he had gone out of his way to pretend the kiss had not affected him. Truth be told, he’d thought of it more than once the last few days. He had thought her beauty underappreciated, but now that the male half of the ton had opened its eyes, he found himself wishing the fellows would find other pastimes. It was one thing to discover a rare beauty; it was quite another to watch the population drool over it. He should be pleased, but he had to stop himself from rushing to her side and beating her admirers off with a stick. She must have noticed him glaring for she found new ways to encourage the fellows and add to his torment.
He was ready to march up to the chit and demand his turn in the dance when he found her stepsister at his side during an intermission. Miss Templeman was lovely in a gown of soft blue that matched her expressive eyes, and he thought again that her cousin would likely lose his fortune soon.
She dropped a graceful curtsey. “Good evening, my lord. I trust you are enjoying the ball.”
“Enjoyment,” he replied, “is the least of my emotions, Miss Templeman.”
She obviously took his statement as a positive one, for she nodded. “I noticed, however, that you do not dance.”
She sounded wistful. He managed a polite smile. “But you do. You haven’t sat out a single set.”
She blushed. “Indeed, I have not. And I find myself a bit overheated. I thought perhaps a walk on the terrace would be refreshing. Might I request your company, my lord?”
His company? Walks along moonlit terraces were reserved for lovers. Was she trying to manipulate him into compromising her?
“Did your stepsister put you up to this?” he demanded.
She paled. “Katherine? Why would you think this has anything to do with her?”
“Your reaction betrays you. You may tell Miss Collins that I have had quite enough of her interference in my life. No, wait. I think it would give me greater satisfaction to tell her myself.”
She caught the arm of his evening black as he started past. “Oh, please, Lord Borin. Do not confront Katherine. This was entirely my idea, I promise you. I am being terribly bold, I know, but I must speak with you alone. I thought this would be the best way to achieve that. But I haven’t Katherine’s flare for subterfuge, worse luck.” Her lower lip trembled, and he could see tears pooling in her eyes. “Please won’t you let me explain myself?”
What gentleman could resist such a plea? Even if he had not been a gentleman, he could not have ignored his curiosity. He tucked her arm in his. “Very well, Miss Templeman. But I cannot take much more of this intrigue.”
“I promise to tell you all,” she replied. Together, they moved to the edge of the room and slipped out onto the terrace that overlooked the gardens.
The Willstencraft house on the edge of Mayfair was one of the largest in London. It boasted three wings, with three floors each, and a full formal garden behind a high stone wall. The terrace ran the length of the center wing, with a set of central stairs leading down onto moonlit paths. Already several couples had succumbed to its quiet temptation, moving among the flowers, heads together. Alex refused to make himself an easy target. He led the girl a little ways along the balustrade where they could be easily seen by anyone coming out of the house or looking up from the garden. He kept himself just close enough to converse but not close enough to appear to be in contact with her. Well?” he asked.
She hesitated. “This is more difficult than I thought. How does Katherine manage so well?”
“Your stepsister is a remarkable woman,” he replied, struggling to be patient. “Determined and brave. I would encourage you to find a similar courage. If our absence is noticed, your reputation could be damaged.”
“My reputation is not the issue. What is far more important to me is my stepsister’s happiness.”
He frowned. “Is something endangering that?”
“Most assuredly. Me.”
“You?”
“Oh, not on purpose,” she hurried to assure him. “I would never do anything to hurt Katherine. She has been my friend, my advisor, my comforter. I always thought I would do anything for her. The Bible says in Deuteronomy to be strong and of good courage, but I find my courage lacking when Katherine needs me most.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “So, she did put you up to this.”
“No, no, you mistake me! But you are right that Katherine hopes we will wed.”
“Miss Templeman,” he said as gently as he could, “I have told your stepsister and now I tell you—I am not interested in courting.”
“Courting at all, or simply courting me?”
She was regarding him fixedly, and he felt his color rising. “That is none of your affair.”
“But it is!” she insisted. “I must know. Katherine so has her heart set on it.”
“Katherine will have to resign herself to disappointment. Let me return you to your admirers.”
“No, wait, please.” Tears were falling. He could see darker dots sprinkling the bosom of her gown. He pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to her with a sigh. She dabbed at her eyes, sniffing.
“I am sorry, my lord, but this is so important to me.”
“I understand. Miss Collins has explained to me about your cousin and your father’s fortune.”
Her eyes were luminous. “She did?”
“Yes.” Despite himself, he felt his righteous anger failing. She was a taking little thing. “I am very sorry for your situation, Miss Templeman. And I understand Miss Collins thinks I am the perfect candidate.”
“Oh, but you are,” she agreed fervently.
He smiled. “Thank you, my dear. But I am assured you will find some other fellow equally impressive.”
“Never,” she swore, sniffing again. “You are absolutely ideal.”
“You honor me,” he demurred.
“Not at all. What woman would refuse a gentleman so handsome, so charming. You are intelligent, well liked, well established.”
“Your regard is flattering, Miss Templeman, but I fear I must stand by my principles. I cannot marry you.”
“Marry me?” She stopped sniffing to stare at him. “Why would I wish to marry you, Lord Borin?”
He blinked. “Pardon me. I could have sworn you just said as much.”
She shook her head. “I certainly did not. I promise you I have no interest in having you court me. I wish you to court my stepsister. It is apparent to me that Katherine is quite smitten with you.”
He grinned, then immediately sobered. Now why did his heart leap at the idea? He had called Katherine a remarkable woman. Did it therefore follow that he was intrigued enough to court her? Or that she truly wished it?
“I am uncertain how you reached that conclusion,” he said carefully, “or that it is valid. However, supposing that it is, I do not see how that changes matters. I am not in the petticoat line, Miss Templeman. I have other matters to attend to at the moment.”
She sighed, a sound as dejected as the slump of her shoulders. “Then nothing I can say will encourage you to continue your attentions to my stepsister?”
“Nothing I can think of at the moment.” He paused as she sniffed again. “But as much as you have been circulating among the ton, perhaps you can help me with my task. Tell me, Miss Templeman, what do you know of these rumors about a spy among the Haut Ton?”
“A spy?” Her eyes widened in her tear-streaked face. “Someone is spying? Do you suspect Katherine?”
He started. In truth, he had not truly considered a woman the target of the foreign agent simply because few were admitted to the War Office. But husbands spoke to wives and men to their mistresses. Why not a woman? And if he had to pick a woman with a heart for intrigue, he could think of no one finer than Katherine Collins.
Yet, as quickly as he seized on the idea, he dropped it. She could not be the spy. For one thing, he did not think she knew enough of the right people to gain access to information, and for another, he could not see her betraying her country. She might need money, but somehow he knew she would not trade military secrets to earn it.
“No, Miss Templeman,” he answered her, “I cannot suspect your stepsister. And your response tells me you know nothing as well. Do not let the matter concern you. The War Office is well aware of the matter. I am certain the villain will be caught.”
“A shame Katherine could not help you,” she replied with a smile. She wiped away the last of her tears and held out the sodden handkerchief.
“I agree,” he replied, gingerly accepting it from her and managing to stuff it into his coat pocket. “Miss Collins is endlessly resourceful. She would make an excellent addition to the Secret Service. Now let us return before anyone notices our absence.”
She nodded. “Yes, of course. I have never done this, slipped away with a gentleman. Perhaps I should go in first and you should follow later?”
He smiled at her attempt at intrigue. “A wise precaution. Try to enjoy the rest of the ball, my dear. Your stepsister seems to have more than her share of admirers. Perhaps one of them will prove worthy.”
She gave him a watery smile and hurried back to the door to the house.