“Crazy old woman,” he muttered as he deposited Lady Anastasia on the bench and made his way toward his aunt, praying a cloak of invisibility would suddenly find a way to shield him from her pensive glare.
She yelled again, “Gentlemen!”
Benedict swallowed. She was referring to him and Baldwyn, like little boys being punished, they slowly skated to her side, each taking an arm.
“I wish to skate,” she announced.
Benedict rolled his eyes at Baldwyn who looked ready to cut himself a tiny ice hole and jump into it. “Yes, I believe the entire pond has been made aware of your desire to skate, Aunt.”
“Hmph.” Her usual response.
“Don’t argue with me, Benedict. Take my arm,” she demanded. “Baldwyn! Look alive there, boy! I’m not growing any younger.”
Clearly, thought Benedict.
“Take my arm and let’s be off!” She waved wildly in the air as if they were planning on flying rather than skating, not that he would say it aloud lest she get ideas that they should figure out a way to catapult her into the icy air.
“If you’ll just hang on to us, I’m sure we can take a turn about the pond, nice and slow now.”
Baldwyn looked heavenward then back to Benedict as if to say, “Do you think we have a chance of leaving her in the middle and feigning memory loss?
“Faster,” Agatha demanded.
“Aunt.” Benedict cleared his throat. “If we go any faster, I believe you’ll lose your breath and have one of those very real coughing fits.” Very real his a—
“I said I would desire for you to take me faster, now do as I say.”
Or reap the consequences, Benedict added mentally.
“As you wish.” He increased his speed, as did Baldwyn and soon the dragon was smiling.
“This is my favorite part.”
“Pardon?” Benedict nearly tripped. Was she just being polite?
“The wind, I miss the wind on my face. Makes an old woman feel alive.” Her pale eyes looked at Benedict and a smile curved her lips. For such an ancient thing, she was quite beautiful still. His heart clenched as she turned her face upward and sighed.
Inwardly scolding himself for being so rude, Benedict tightened his grip on her arm. If she trusted them enough to close her eyes, if she was so completely within their clutches, he was going to do a blasted good job of keeping her standing straight, even if it killed him.
After a few minutes, Agatha sighed. “Stop! I’m cold, take me back to the house at once!” Agatha paused, and released their arms. “Baldwyn, Lady Anastasia looks quite frozen over on the bench, please see to her needs.”
Benedict opened his mouth to speak, but Agatha interrupted, “And Benedict, do be sure that Lady Katherine is brought back to the house soon. She so desired to read this afternoon, and I would hate to see her too frozen to do so.”
With that, Agatha, frail little Agatha skated off, at top speed, alone.
The little witch.
She knew exactly how to skate.
Why the devil did she…?
Separation. Benedict tossed his head back and laughed, torn between the desire to applaud her genius or strangle her for misinterpreting everything going on that afternoon, for she should know him well enough to know. His attraction was to Katherine, not Lady Anastasia.
He skated to Katherine and held out his hand. “Oh, no you don’t,” she teased. “Last time we skated, we both fell and you were peeking beneath my skirts.”
“It isn’t peeking if the skirt flies up.”
“Says who?” Her eyes widened with indignation.
“I do.”
“And let me guess, you’re a duke so it has to count for something?”
“Look how well we are communicating, love.” Benedict pulled her into a tight embrace, not caring that everyone around them was most likely staring. “So if I kiss you right now, it will not matter.”
“B-because you’re a duke.”
“Precisely.”
Katherine leaned in, her eyes half-closed.
“But,” Benedict said when their foreheads touched, “I would hate to subject you to the whisperings and gossip, so another time then.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle before slipping her arm within his.
She tripped, nearly losing her footing.
“My, my, and to think I didn’t even kiss your lips. I wonder if you would be able to walk in a straight line.”
“Obviously I did before.”
“But my kiss is different now,” Benedict argued.
Katherine let out a loud sigh. “You’re baiting me again. You want me to say, ‘but how, Benedict? How is it different?’ Then you’ll lean in and wax poetic about how you’d love to show me Then I’d be breathless, you’d still be the Devil and I’d kick you in the shin. Sound about right?”
“Sometimes you frighten me.” He shuddered.
“Perfect, so let us just skip ahead to the part after where you tell me all about why you felt the need to make Paisley jealous.”
“Straight to the point, I like it.” Benedict smirked. “At this rate, that of a snail or that of a disabled tortoise, Paisley will be happily engaged in holding her hand by the end of the year.”
“I take it by your tone they need to be doing more than holding hands.”
“Considering they will be married, yes that is the idea, nay the point, don’t you think? One cannot beget an heir by osmosis.”
“Osmosis?”
“The practice of—”
“I know what it means, I’m just curious as to why you used that particular analogy.”
“We are on ice you know.” Benedict quirked. “The examples are perfect. Besides, I have a plan.”
“Of course you do.”
Benedict grinned devilishly. His plan was more self-serving than he let Katherine believe. Could he help that he wanted her all to himself? So tonight, after dinner, he would make an absolute spectacle of himself, gaining her attention for the remainder of the evening. Hopefully after several bottles of port, his cousin would loosen up enough to attempt to converse with his fiancée. One could only hope that he wouldn’t have to get the man foxed in order to do so.
Chapter Eighteen
The Christmas Carriage
Katherine left Benedict and went to her room to take a nap before dinner. However, the minute she closed her eyes, all she could see was his face. Foolish of her really, but it was impossible to concentrate on anything else.
Besides, he hadn’t exactly told her his brilliant plan for the evening meal. She actually doubted he knew what he was going to do. His plan, it seemed, was to somehow separate the couples so Paisley was stuck with Lady Anastasia with no means to escape.
Sounded a lot like desperation, but if that’s the only way to get them to pay attention to one another, then so be it. She still wasn’t sure why she was helping, other than Benedict had asked it of her, and she soon found out that when the man smiled, when he leaned in and touched her arm just so, well she would most likely give him anything.
Which did not bode well for any future dark corners or hallways.
She did have some morals, though she felt them crumble every time she tasted his lips.
She shuddered and closed her eyes. Sleep, she just needed sleep.
****
Dinner started pleasantly. Benedict and Paisley sat across from one another at the head of the table, near Lord Marks, and Katherine and Lady Anastasia were across each man respectively.
After the first two courses, Katherine began to wonder if Benedict had lost his nerve.
And then, he leaned in toward Lady Anastasia and mumbled something that made her blush so brightly Katherine was ready to throw wine in the woman’s face. Benedict pulled back, looking more pleased than he ought, then nodded to Katherine.
Clearing her throat, she leaned over and whispered nonsense about the weather into Paisley’s ear, but at the last moment when his eyes turned to gaze into hers, she
very gently placed a note in his hand.
He looked down, then up. She shook her head and reached for her wine.
The bait was set, now it was up to her to see if both parties would take it.
Once dinner was finished, Katherine kept a close eye on Paisley. He retired with the rest of the gentlemen, but as planned, within minutes he was walking down the hallway toward the far end of the study.
Perfect.
Katherine went in search of Benedict who was at that very moment walking down the same corridor with Lady Anastasia.
“You see, I cannot find the button, and it means the world to me!” Benedict pleaded with her. Though Katherine thought he was laying it on a little thick.
Most likely Lady Anastasia thought the only way to escape his presence was to actually go into the study and look for the blasted button.
“I’ll just be here waiting, shouldn’t follow you in, isn’t proper and all that.” Benedict coughed.
Katherine rolled her eyes from her hiding spot in the hall.
Once the door clicked shut, Katherine hurried to his side. “Tell me you have the key.”
“Oh, I have the key. Did you know…” Benedict turned the lock. “That Lord Marks is quite the fellow. He offered to pay me to get those two together in such circumstances. Jolly fellow, should probably send him a Christmas ham.”
Katherine stifled a laugh when she heard Paisley’s voice begin to rise.
“How much port did he drink?” Katherine asked.
“Enough to hold her hand, possibly enough to be tempted to kiss her.”
“What’s wrong with you!” Katherine pinched him in the arm. “You had one job, well two. Get him foxed and find the key.”
“Listen,” Benedict pushed her against the wall playfully, his hands resting on her hips. “I did the best I could. What were you thinking wearing a dress like this?” He seemed mesmerized as his hands slowly caressed the satin.
“What?” Utterly confused and a bit tipsy from the many glasses of wine she drank at dinner, Katherine could do nothing but stare at him in disbelief. ”What the devil does my dress have to do with anything?”
“Heavens, I love your dirty mouth.” He winked, his hands still playing with the fabric, twisting the ribbon around her middle with his fingers. “Your dress, my lady, is distracting. You’re lucky I was able to concentrate on the mission, let alone not drink myself into oblivion without touching you.”
“Oh.” She wished in that moment that she would have thought of a better response, but she was yet again dumbstruck by his dark sensual looks, his hooded eyes, and full lips.
“Shall we?” His voice was husky as he offered his arm.
Telling herself it was silly to shake or be nervous around someone she was marrying so soon, she nodded and gave him her arm.
Thinking he would lead her back to the party, she began to get somewhat alarmed when he escorted her outside.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” he mumbled in her hair before bestowing a kiss on her temple.
Far be it for her to argue a surprise.
Such a stark contrast between the glowing white snow and the dark sky. The moon hung in the sky like a picture. Benedict led her around to the front of the house, where a carriage was waiting.
“What’s this?”
“Your Christmas surprise,” he answered sweeping her into his arms and placing her in the seat. Fur blankets were stacked to the right, a bottle of wine and glasses in a basket to the left.
Grinning from ear to ear like a small child, Katherine managed not to throw her arms around his neck and laugh.
He remembered.
She had no idea he had listened that night when she was but seven years of age.
“I want my own Christmas carriage!” She wailed and wailed until her father announced he was going to sell all the carriages if she kept complaining.
“Silly goose.” Benedict sat next to her. At fourteen, he seemed so much older, darker, and of course wiser.
“I’m not silly.” Katherine crossed her arms and lifted her chin into the air, trying to prove to him that she was absolutely an adult who could make her own decisions, and at that point in her short life, she wanted her own Christmas carriage. “It just isn’t fair.” She sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve.
Benedict laughed then, a boy laugh that was more amused than mocking. “Then we shall just have to get you one, but not now, for your father looks ready to shoot anything that speaks.”
Katherine giggled. “When, Ben? When can I have my own Christmas carriage?”
He pulled her to his side, she tucked her feet underneath her and sighed as the weight of his arm held her in a warm embrace. “How about I tell you a story, and in that story you’ll see. Hmm?”
“Oh yes!” She clapped her hands with glee.
“One day when you are all grown up and going to lovely parties with sparkling ball gowns and handsome men…”
“Like you?” she asked, for she thought him quite handsome.
“Yes, like me.” He blushed. “One of these days, you will catch the eye of one of those men, and he will proclaim his undying love to you. He’ll offer to buy you any dress in the world if only you will love him. He’ll offer to sail to the moon.”
“That’s silly!” Katherine covered her laughter with her hand. “One cannot sail to the moon!”
“Exactly my point, Kate, one cannot sail there, but his love will be so deep, that in his mind, he has already decided that if it is within your desires, he will find a way to do it.”
Katherine sighed then, for she did not know that type of love existed.
Benedict had coughed and cleared his throat. “So, when that moment happens, when you see the stars shine in his eyes, when you see his eyes reflect the same feelings you have inside here,” he tapped his own chest, “then you shall ask him for your Christmas carriage. Because you waited, it will be even more special. You will also be sharing it with the person who cares the most for you in the world.”
Katherine sighed. “I like that story. Is it true, Ben? Oh, tell me it is true!”
“I promise.” He ruffled her hair and kissed her on the cheek and she hopped up to bed, with dreams of Christmas carriages dancing in her head.
Benedict’s weight made the carriage tip, just slightly. “Do you like it?”
Katherine wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Instead she just stared at him, his face a mixture of apprehension and… love.
“Your eyes,” she said.
“My eyes?”
“They reflect the stars.” Katherine moved to sit near him, placing the blanket over both of their bodies. Benedict tapped the roof and they were off, in their Christmas carriage for a ride through the snow.
He kissed her, a feather-light kiss across the forehead. “Yes, love, yes they do.”
Chapter Nineteen
Temptation, Thy Name is Katherine
Benedict wasn’t sure if he was more amused, irritated, or pleased that Katherine had fallen asleep during their carriage ride.
He hadn’t the heart to wake her up, not when her tiny hands reached inside his jacket and hugged his middle.
It was a shared moment, perhaps the most intimate moment of his life. To have a woman, in her sleep, completely trust him, forsaking her own safety and sanity, and cling to him. Well, it made him feel like the past few years of his life had been for nothing but selfishness. What had he been thinking?
He looked down at her sleeping form. This feeling, this raw desire, this primal need to protect her from everything even if it killed him, was what he had been missing. And he hated himself for being so blind and stupid.
In fact, he was quite ready to shout it to the world, but again, he didn’t want to ruin the moment.
He could have spent hours watching her sleep. The way her lips fell slightly open, her eyelashes resting against her pale skin. Her furrowed brows when she must have been dreaming, and the way h
er breathing seemed to lull him into a relaxed state, he could listen to her breathe all day.
And again he was hit with that thought, he had completely and totally fallen for this bewitching beauty, his childhood nemesis, the one girl he thought he couldn’t possibly come to care for in such a way, let alone bring himself to marry.
The carriage pulled to a halt. He carefully lifted Katherine into his arms and carried her quietly up the stairs and into her chambers.
The desire to stay with her was such a strong pull. He was half-tempted to run naked in the snow in order to shake him from his feelings.
His valet would love that.
At least he’d been wearing clothes as of late, and at least trying to be amiable to the man. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t like being fussed over or touched by a man in places no man should be touched by another man.
Regardless, he managed to set her on her bed, and kiss her just lightly across the lips before walking to the door.
“Benedict?” Her voice was groggy from sleep.
“Yes?” Run, run! His head screamed at him, old habits died hard, and he wanted desperately to show her how much he cared for her, to make her his before the vows were said.
“Thank you for my Christmas carriage.”
His heart melted, then began hammering in his chest, it was nearly painful, the way her words affected him, making him want to hit himself in order to return to reality.
“You’re welcome.” His hand touched the door.
“Benedict?”
“Yes,” he near growled. She had no idea the danger she was in of losing that precious virginity a week before she planned.
“Stay.”
Fighting the urge to roar like a Neanderthal, Benedict chuckled. “Love, that wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“Please?” She rose from the bed just slightly, her hair falling across her shoulders in waves. His imagination would never be able to dream up a woman of her beauty, of the absolute devastating pull she had on him.
“If I stay…” Benedict groaned and leaned his head against the door. “I’ll only stay until you’re once again asleep, love, then I need to leave.”
The Devil Duke Takes a Bride Page 10