A Hint of Seduction (21 page)

He was trustworthy and that made him all the more desirable.

But his reputation was undeniable. She fully expected him to enjoy her kisses and caresses for a few days and then move on to the next young lady to catch his fancy. She wanted him to show her attention and the thought of him going to another woman made her heart ache.

Catherine took a deep breath. Tomorrow she would ask him if he would help her discover which man was her father.

The problem was in deciding what she could offer John in return for his help. She’d always heard that everything had a price.

What would tempt John to agree?

Suddenly she gasped. She tempted John. When they’d kissed so passionately, he’d told her she tempted him like no other woman.

She had no reason to doubt what he said was true. He certainly acted as if he were enjoying himself when they kissed. What would he say if she offered him her kisses in exchange for helping her?

Would he agree?

“I’ll soon find out,” she said aloud. “I will ask for his help and repay him with kisses.”

That settled Catherine realized she’d stayed in the closet far longer than John had told her to. She touched her hair, then opened the door and stepped out right in front of a young maid who was walking down the hallway with a tray filled with tinkling glasses.

Catherine kept her composure and never blinked an eye. Lifting her chin and her shoulders, she smiled at the wide-eyed servant in a gray dress and white apron and said, “Excuse me, but I seem to have lost my way. Is the buffet room through there?”

The young maid’s eyes grew wide. “Yes, miss,” she said, looking at Catherine as if she’d seen a ghost.

“Oh, perfect. Thank you.”

Catherine tried not to hurry as she walked past the maid and down the corridor. Meeting the servant was too close for comfort. It could just as easily have been the lady of the house or the butler who saw her coming out of the closet. Neither of whom would have hesitated to take her directly to Victoria.

Taking a calming breath, Catherine strolled into the buffet room as unobtrusively as possible and made her way over to the champagne table and asked for a glass. She was trying her best not to look or act as if she had just been in a dark closet passionately kissing the most handsome man.

She took her first sip of champagne, and the cool bubbly liquid was almost as satisfying as water to her dry throat. She had to force herself to remain calm and not look or act as guilty as she suddenly felt. No one was paying any attention to her and she wanted to keep it that way.

When she lifted the glass for her second sip, she saw Victoria enter the room and spot her immediately. Obviously she’d made it into the buffet room just in time.

“There you are,” Victoria said, walking up to her with a worried expression on her face. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Have you? I’ve been in the house all evening,” Catherine answered in all truthfulness.

“I suppose you were going into one room while I was coming out of another. Lady Waverly is fortunate to have one of the largest houses in Mayfair, but it does make it difficult to find anyone when you need them. No matter, I wanted you to know that I have finalized your plans for tomorrow.”

Oh, no, that meant she would not get to see John. She took another sip of the champagne and it went down fast. Kissing surely made one thirsty.

“What plans have you made for me?” she managed to ask.

“I have just moments ago finished talking with Lord Chatwin, and I agreed that he could take you for a ride in Hyde Park tomorrow afternoon.” Victoria fanned herself. “It will be lovely. Everyone will see you.”

Catherine’s stomach jumped in anticipation. She was thrilled. John had kept his word and wasted no time finding Victoria. Tomorrow she could proceed with her proposition to the earl, but tonight she couldn’t sound too eager.

“I’m surprised you are allowing me to accompany him, Vickie.”

“Why so?”

“I thought you had changed your mind about the Terrible Twosome earl and had decided that the Marquis was the gentleman for me.”

“Nonsense. I’m for whichever gentleman seems most interested in you. I was very clever and told Lord Chatwin I would rearrange your schedule for him and that it would make some other gentlemen very unhappy.” She smiled and her brown eyes sparkled mischievously. “He seemed quite pleased by that.”

“I’m sure he was,” Catherine murmured.

She was going to see him so that she could convince him to help her find her father.

“Finish your champagne quickly and meet me by the front door. I’m ready to go to the next party. Perhaps we’ll see the Marquis there so that I can plan your afternoon for the day after tomorrow.” She paused and suddenly an
expression of concern hooded her eyes once more. “Your lips look a little red and slightly swollen.”

“They are?” she whispered.

Catherine’s fingers flew to her lips and she covered them.

She was caught. Victoria knew she’d been kissed.

What was she going to do?

“Yes,” Victoria continued. “I’ve noticed that you have a habit of sinking your teeth into your bottom lip and sucking it into your mouth.”

Did she?

“I do?”

“Yes, and you must not do that anymore, Catherine.”

“Right. No more,” she managed to say coherently.

“It makes your lips too… too—”

“Too what?” Catherine asked, remembering how passionately John’s lips had ravaged hers over and over again.

“Well, they look too kissable.”

“Too kissable?” Catherine choked out between pretend coughs, which she hoped covered her shock at how close Victoria was to knowing exactly what went on in that closet.

“Yes, and they might tempt some brave young gentleman to try and kiss you. Especially a rogue like that dashing Lord Chatwin. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“N-no, we wouldn’t.”

Victoria smiled, again seeming quite pleased with herself. “Splendid. So no more teeth on your lips.”

“I’ll be more conscious of that, Vickie. Thank you for pointing it out to me.”

“Now finish your champagne and meet me by the door.” With that Victoria whirled and left in a puff of brown satin skirts.

When Victoria was out of sight, Catherine handed her
glass to a servant and walked over to a dark corner where a large urn filled with flowers stood and hid behind the arrangement. She put her hand over her mouth and laughed softly. She was weak with relief that she hadn’t been caught and giddy with happiness.

She couldn’t believe she had passed another close call. Obviously a guardian angel had been watching over her tonight.

She was grateful Victoria didn’t know that her lips had already been kissed. She leaned against the wall and smiled. She felt wonderful. She would be seeing Lord Chatwin tomorrow. And while it was very important she convince him to help her find her real father, she realized that it was even more important to her that she just spend time with him. She knew that all too soon he would want to leave her for another.

Catherine heard voices and laughter very close to her, and that reminded her she needed to meet her sister. She started to push away from the wall when she heard Lord Chatwin’s name mentioned. It wasn’t her intention to eavesdrop, but her curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself moving closer to the flowers so she could hear what the group of young men were saying.

“Poor Lord Chatwin, what an unlucky fellow. I wouldn’t want to be in his boots.”

“Me either. Not for his title and all the land that comes with it.”

“Imagine, having all of London thinking that a lady ghost spooked your horse and then rode off on it.”

She heard laughter. And at John’s expense.

A protective feeling unlike anything she’d ever felt before rose up inside her. She wanted to tell them to stop.

“And it’s not only the phantom lady he has to worry
about. Imagine the whole of London knowing he was thrown from the gelding when he’s supposed to be one of the best riders of the old bachelors.”

Old bachelor? Catherine wasn’t sure she was hearing this correctly. Was Lord Chatwin now considered one of the old bachelors? Surely not? John was maybe a year past thirty. She remembered how hard his chest was and how firm and muscular his back and shoulders were. Even now she could close her eyes and feel the strength of his embrace as he held her close.

Old? John?

She peeked through the flowers and recognized the three gentlemen as young men in their early twenties. Perhaps they did consider John old, but Catherine didn’t.

“Damnation, do you think he’s losing his skills with the ladies?”

There was more laughter.

“Do you think he really believes it was a ghost who knocked him off his horse?”

“I heard the Marquis say that he looked as if he had seen a ghost that morning.”

“All I can say is I’m glad I’m not the one who fell off my horse.”

Anger built inside Catherine. They were not talking about the Lord Chatwin she knew. Catherine had a strong desire to bound from behind the urn and tell the young men that she was the lady on the horse.

“Bloody, yes.”

“Some of us have decided to meet in the park at dawn tomorrow morning to see if we can find Lord Chatwin’s lady ghost. Do you want to come along?”

“I’ll be there. If there is a specter haunting the park, I want to be one of the first to see her.”

There was more laughter and then the shuffling of feet as they walked away.

Why wouldn’t this story go away?

She wished she’d never taken his horse that morning. It was her fault that he was being ridiculed like this. First with the young ladies earlier in the evening and now with the men. Even his best friend Lord Dugdale had been outrageously angry with her about what this story had done to John’s reputation. And now she understood Lord Dugdale’s feelings.

She couldn’t let this go on.

She had to do something.

But what?

She looked around the room as if some inspiration would hit her out of the blue. And it did. There in a flowing gown of a faded plum color was Lady Lynette standing by the buffet table eating an apple tart.

Lynette had once boasted she knew everyone in the
ton,
and others had told Catherine that, too. Catherine was going to give her the chance to prove it. What she was about to do would make Victoria very unhappy, but it was time for Catherine to step up and take responsibility for what she had done and suffer the consequences whatever they may be.

Shoring up her courage, she walked over to Lynette, who had just taken the last bite of her tart, and said, “Lynette, do you mind if I have a moment of your time?”

“Of course not,” she said, daintily dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

“Good. I need you to help me with something.”

Clearly she was taken aback by Catherine’s comment. “Me? Oh, I’d love to. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone ask for my assistance before.”

Catherine smiled, glad that she had flattered Lynette, although that wasn’t her intention.

“I’m sure that’s not true. You seem very levelheaded to me.”

“Thank you. What can I do for you?” she asked eagerly.

Catherine sucked in her breath and said, “You indicated to me a few nights ago that if I knew something about Lord Chatwin and who rode his horse in the park that I should talk to you.”

Lynette’s eyes lit with intrigue and Catherine watched as her gaze scanned the room as if to see if anyone were watching or listening to them.

Then she said, “Yes, by all means if you know something, you can surely tell me.”

“The person I really need to talk to is Lord Truefitt, and I was hoping you could help me find him.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, but you can’t talk to him. No one knows who he is.”

“Piffle. I don’t believe that. How does he get the information that he writes each day in his column? Someone must know how to get in touch with him to give him the information he writes about.”

Lynette remained quiet, studying Catherine.

“Would you know how I could get some information to Lord Truefitt?”

Lynette laid her napkin on a table and touched Catherine’s arm and indicated for her to move to the far side of the room with her.

Catherine followed.

Lynette bent close to her and in a low voice said, “I might. I’m not promising anything or admitting to anything, but I may know how to accomplish getting information to him.”

“I would really appreciate your help.”

“If I do this for you, you must promise never to tell anyone I helped you. My name must never be mentioned in connection with Lord Truefitt.”

“Oh, never would I tell anyone.”

“Promise not to tell and hope to die if you do.”

Catherine was a little stunned at the juvenile oath from a lady who had to be in her late twenties, but she immediately agreed. “Yes, I promise.”