The carriage soon began to slow, and she was pleasantly surprised to see Hartley House before them.
After shooting a quick smile to the footman who helped her from the carriage, she hurried up to the house and received a happy welcome home from Cay. Though she had been warned about how cold the weather would be here, she hadn’t been prepared for how much colder the damp air would make the spring weather seem. The butler attempted to remove her cloak, but she waved him off.
“You must be exhausted, my dear,” said Lady Hartley. “You’ve barely been here for a day and we’ve already dragged you off to shop and to the opera.”
Exhausted was an understatement, yet Catherine had too many things to think through to give in to tiredness. She could, however, make herself more comfortable before attempting to tackle her problems. “I am quite tired, I’m afraid. I believe I will take to my chamber.”
“Good night, dear,” said Lady Hartley. Lord Hartley nodded to her and disappeared into the library.
Jane slid her arm through Catherine’s and Cay trotted happily alongside. “Are you really going to bed now, or do you just want some time to yourself?”
“I admit to a desire for both. But I would like to hear more about your Lord Cavanaugh.”
Jane glanced around to make sure no one was about before she spoke. “Well, he’s certainly not my Lord Cavanaugh.”
Catherine squeezed her hand. “But you want him to be, don’t you? I saw the way you practically glowed while you were speaking to him.”
“Well, I probably wouldn’t refuse an offer from him, but there are others to consider.”
Jane was lucky to have so many suitors. The duke was the only one who had paid any attention to her at the opera, and his interest was targeted toward ensuring that Catherine would not receive any offers. Perhaps that was why he had pulled her away from her conversation with Lord Cavanaugh and his friends.
Something must be done to make certain she received at least one offer. She had to win her bet with the duke and secure Walsley Manor for Mama.
“Who else are you considering?” she asked Jane somewhat absently. Perhaps she ought to pay attention since she would be in close contact with the gentlemen who were interested in Jane.
“There is no one else in particular who has captured my interest, but the season has only just begun. When we start attending balls next week, we will have a better idea of our options.”
“You sound as if you are speaking of a bolt of fabric or ribbon for a new hat.”
Jane looked up at the ceiling, as if considering. “It’s not a bad comparison.”
“Jane!”
“I’m simply being honest. Of course I hope to make a love match, but the man I choose must also be titled and possess enough wealth to keep me in the style to which I’ve become accustomed.”
Catherine smiled. “You are too much.”
“I am not by half. Now go catch up with your sleep. We have much to accomplish before next week.”
Catherine took both of Jane’s hands into her own. “Thank you for putting up with me. I know you probably didn’t have a say about whether your parents would sponsor me, and I recognize that my presence won’t enhance your ability to make a desirable match.”
“Nonsense. I’ve always wanted a sister, and with you I have something even better, a live-in friend.” She hugged Catherine close. “Trust me. We shall both make excellent matches this season.”
Catherine wiped at a tear on her cheek, too emotional to profess her appreciation for Jane. Unlike Jane, she would only marry for love. Thanks to Papa’s success, she did not need a husband to support her. After spending most of her childhood dreaming of England, she wasn’t opposed to staying here, but she would miss her family terribly. And so far, she had only come across stuffy, too-concerned-with-their-own-importance men. New Orleans society was not large and she knew her ideal match was not to be found there, but she was equally fearful that he might not be here either.
“Go, on.” Jane pushed her toward her chamber. “Rest while you can.”
Catherine sent her a grateful smile before opening the door to her chamber. Slipping inside, she pushed the door closed and leaned against it. The hair on Cay’s back raised and he emitted a low growl. A shiver climbed her spine. Something wasn’t right. A quick glance around the room showed nothing amiss. There were no shoes sticking out from beneath her curtains or any obvious signs of someone else in the room. She pulled out the knife strapped to her calf and held her breath, listening. Nothing.
Striding to the opposite wall, she checked behind each of the curtains, then rushed to the lamp Diana had left for her and turned it up. Nothing under the bed. No one was in the room. She put a hand on her hip, studying the room again in the hope of discovering what had triggered Cay’s reaction and in turn, her apprehension. Her dog sniffed around, but didn’t seem to focus on any spot in particular.
The latch was open on the window on the north side of the room. She hadn’t left it open, but despite the much-colder weather here in England, Diana firmly believed in airing out the rooms daily. Perhaps she had left it unlatched. Besides, her chamber was on the second floor, so it would require an uncommonly industrious thief to commit a successful break-in.
After snapping the latch closed, she looked inside the wardrobe and checked each drawer of her dressing table and chest of drawers, just to be sure. A light knock on the door startled her, and she nearly dropped her knife.
Diana strode into the room. “I thought you might want some help getting out of your gown.”
“You nearly scared me to death.” She placed her hand over her heart to still its frantic pace. “Did you have the window open earlier?
“Not today.” She waved her hand in that direction. “You’ve been outside. It’s much too cold.” Her eyes shifted to Catherine. “Why do you ask?”
“I noticed an open latch when I returned.” She turned and sucked in a deep breath as Diana loosened her stays.
“I don’t remember leaving it unlatched, but I may have.”
Something still didn’t seem right, but Catherine decided to let it drop. Nothing was missing or out of place. Perhaps her instincts weren’t up to snuff due to the long trip and strange environment.
“Thank you, I can manage from here. You go get some sleep.” There were smudges under Diana’s eyes, and she still hadn’t gained back the weight she had lost on the ship. Catherine hugged her and pushed her toward the door. When it clicked closed, she removed her gown, stays, and underclothes, and slipped a night rail over her head. Moving quickly, she put her gown and other garments in the wardrobe. She layered a dressing gown over her night rail, then added a shawl for extra warmth. After grabbing the journal from the dressing table, she climbed onto the bed and pulled up the coverlet.
The cover of the journal was soft and worn between her hands, conjuring an image of her great-grandmother sitting in her bed the same way she was, carefully recording her day on its pages. The placement of her marker indicated that she was more than a third of the way through, but she had learned nothing of interest and there had been no mention of the diamond tiara. She skimmed through three more entries about the household accounts, a remedy for a rash the gardener developed each time he worked among the roses, and finally came across a different sort of entry. It detailed a dinner party held at Walsley. It seemed that they were entertaining visitors from Russia, Spain, and France, but it wasn’t clear who they were or why they were there.
Catherine looked up from the journal. There was hodgepodge of nationalities in the Bahamas and New Orleans, but she didn’t think that was the case in England, especially outside of London. Raising her hands toward the ceiling, she stretched and her stomach rumbled. It seemed much too late to ring for food. She had no doubt the staff would answer, but those who worked in the kitchens woke especially early and she didn’t wish to disturb them.
A trip to the kitchens would give her a chance to clear her head.
After
hopping off the bed, she headed for the door. Cay followed hopefully. She patted him on the head. “I’m sorry, darling, but you must stay here.” She didn’t wish for him to wake anyone, and she wasn’t sure how Lady Hartley would feel about a dog in her kitchens.
Moving quickly, she padded down the staircase. Light shone around the door to the library. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, the words of a conversation reached her.
“Are you certain this was a wise decision?” Lord Hartley asked.
“In what respect?” asked Lady Hartley.
“Are you not at all concerned that having her here will hurt Jane’s chances of making a match this season?”
Catherine’s stomach clenched. They were speaking of her.
“No, my dear, I am not. Even considering the incident at the opera. She is a lovely, well-behaved girl, and Jane is thrilled to have her company. My goodness, the Duke of Boulstridge even visited her in our box this evening. If that isn’t a sign of acceptance by society, then I don’t know what is.”
“You know I sought him out at my club earlier today and invited him to come meet her. Even explained her connection to Walsley Manor. He only did it to be polite.”
“Be that as it may, his attention attracted the notice of others who have no notion of the reason for his appearance.”
Thank heavens Lady Hartley hadn’t found out about her visit to Walsley Manor. In retrospect, it had been a bad decision on her part.
She would have to follow the rules of English society, both for Jane’s sake and to win Walsley. The duke had been correct about her behavior. Overcome with guilt for eavesdropping and no longer hungry, she turned to tread back up the staircase, her limbs now heavy with fatigue and guilt. She would not make such a foolish mistake again.
Chapter Six
It was unusual for him to receive a summons from his mother. Nick was curious to find out how she had discovered he was in town.
It was also unusual for the warm, dry weather to last for more than a day. Once again, he found himself walking through Mayfair, this time to his mother’s town house, which he had purchased for her the day his father died. It had been his first official act as the Duke of Boulstridge. His second had been to give his father’s mistress du jour twenty-four hours to vacate Boulstridge House, which he thought was rather generous.
Luckily it was still early and most of the ton was abed, which suited him well.
Much like Boulstridge House, the door to Thornbury Place opened to admit him before he reached the proximity necessary to knock. Handing his cloak to the butler, he headed for the parlor, where his mother was hopefully still at breakfast.
“Good morning, my dear.” She smiled and waved at the sideboard. “I figured you would be hungry.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead before piling food onto a plate and joining her at a small table. What he ate wasn’t as important as filling the emptiness. His mother was his only family, but as much as he loved her, even she could not fill the hollow space of the family he would never have.
She spread jam on her toast and watched as he shoveled eggs into his mouth. “Why is it that I had to discover that you were in town from Justin? You couldn’t spare even a moment to let me know you were here?”
He finished the eggs and wiped his mouth with his napkin before responding. “My apologies. My plans were made in haste, and I hadn’t realized word of my arrival had already reached you. I planned to call on you this afternoon, in fact.”
“You rarely do anything in haste. What prompted your return?”
He studied her. “Before we get to that, I should like to know what motivated your request to see me this morning.”
“Sarah visited yesterday and informed me that you were to meet with them at the opera.”
“I see.” He leaned back in the chair. “My apologies for not making you my first priority, but Justin and I have been conversing about an issue at Boulstridge Hall, so I wanted to make my presence in London known to him.”
“That is understandable.” She busied herself with the food on her plate, knowing that he would fill in the information she was looking for if she remained silent. It was, after all, a trick he had learned from her.
“Truly, I only arrived the night before last.” He folded his hands over his stomach. “I find that I need your help with a…situation that has arisen.” His mother was the one person he trusted implicitly.
“Of course.” She set her napkin on the table. “Shall we move to more comfortable seating?”
He followed her to the parlor and sat across from her on a settee. “A young lady, Miss Malboeuf, called upon me at Walsley Manor. Is the name at all familiar to you?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe so. Should it be?”
“Her father is Claude Malboeuf, a pirate turned legitimate merchant who runs a shipping corporation out of New Orleans.”
She sat up straight. “Oh my. She is the daughter of a pirate? What business could she have with you?”
“Save your surprise until you hear the rest.” He crossed his ankle over his knee and continued. “Her mother is Helena Walsley, the daughter of the second to last Viscount Walsley to occupy the house.”
Staring at him with wide eyes, she opened and then closed her mouth without saying anything.
“Ponder that for another few days and you’ll understand my position. The blasted woman wants to purchase Walsley Manor from me, but of course I refused. She is now here in London, planning to participate in the season.”
She filled her cheeks with air and slowly released it. “How…difficult. You put so much time and effort into restoring Walsley. But I also understand why she would wish to have it back in her family. What a situation to find yourself in.”
He raised his brows. “There is no situation. The house is mine, and I shall not sell it.” Unless, of course, he lost their bet. But that was extremely unlikely to occur, especially after she wielded her knife at the Theatre Royale.
She clasped her hands together. “How disappointing for Miss Malboeuf. She traveled all the way from the New World only to be denied.”
He snorted. “She is not the sort of girl to give up easily.”
“How interesting. With her background, do you think she will be accepted into society?”
He shrugged. “She attended the opera last night. Hartley’s wife is her sponsor.”
Patting a loose lock of hair into place, she said, “Oh, with the Hartleys guiding her she should do well. I hope so for their sake, since their daughter is also out.”
“It becomes even more interesting. Not knowing that she had called upon me in Derbyshire, Hartley approached me at White’s yesterday afternoon to arrange for us to be introduced at the opera. He invited me to make her acquaintance in their box last night.”
She leaned back against the settee. “You had time to waste at your club yesterday afternoon, but you were too busy to inform your own mother that you were in town?”
“I hadn’t realized you were sitting around, anxiously awaiting my arrival.”
She reached across and slapped his hand. “I do not know where I went wrong with you. Truly.” But there was no heat in her words. “Then she…that is…the Hartleys are unaware of her visit to Derbyshire?”
“So it would seem. I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps she had hoped to purchase the estate prior to going to London. It may have made sense depending upon where her ship landed.”
“You refused to sell Walsley, and she simply left for London?”
He shrugged. “More or less.”
She raised her brows. “What aren’t you telling me?”
He stood and paced toward the front of the room. “She was very…challenging to deal with. She kept pushing me to sell, and I suspect she will continue to harass me until I either give in or die.”
“And?”
“I offered her a wager. If she is able to secure a proposal of marriage from a titled member of the ton,
I will sell Walsley to her.”
She lifted her brows. “Aren’t you worried that she will win the wager?”
He shook his head. “Not in the slightest.” At least, not really. Sure, she was gorgeous and wealthy, which was bound to attract fortune hunters, but she didn’t seem the sort to allow someone to take advantage of her. The most likely result was that she would drive them away before they could make her an offer.
“She’s that uncivilized?”
He searched for the right word to describe her. “Not exactly. She’s…different. She has the wealth and poise to carry it off, but I don’t think she’ll be able to keep her true self hidden. Unconventional is an understatement.”
She clapped her hands together. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“In that case, may I escort you to the Cortland ball tonight?”
“I would be delighted.”
She stood, and he followed suit. He kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit you sooner.”
“I wouldn’t have been at home if you had called yesterday afternoon anyway.”
He laughed. She liked to tease him, but he knew she also needed the reassurance that he would always be available to her. Another of the many factors that had contributed to his decision not to marry. He said his good-byes and began the short walk home. Justin had sent a sheaf of papers and accounts for him to review.
The streets were still mostly deserted. He wondered what Miss Malboeuf was up to. He suspected she was an early riser like himself as she didn’t seem the sort to waste time that could be put to good use. She was quite enticing, but he remained convinced she would be unable to secure a match. Once her background was revealed, no one would offer for her. ’Twas a shame, but that was the way of the privileged. He was more than sympathetic to the pain she would experience when she was ridiculed by society, but the sooner she learned the ways of the ton, the better it would be for both of them.
…
Catherine twirled to get a glimpse of the back of her gown. Magnifique. The perfect gown for her first ball. Madame Rouillard had been correct about the green silk being her color. Now all she had to do was remember the steps to the dances.
How to Beguile a Duke (Entangled Scandalous) Page 8