His Perfect Lady (15 page)

Abruptly, Jonathan wrenched back. His eyes darkened to almost black as he stared at her. His chest moved as rapidly as hers, making her wonder why he withdrew from her. Without a word, he led her along back up the drive to the manor house.

Once inside, their clothing dripped, leaving a trail to the drawing room. Jonathan barked out orders for towels before settling her in front of the fireplace. As his deft hands tossed in logs and brought the fire to life, she could not shake her body’s need for him.

“Much better.” He turned and grinned at her, but the slight smile quickly faded from his face. “You must not look at me like that.”

She knew he was right, but she couldn’t school her expression. Her desire remained too close to the surface. Although she knew she would receive no satisfaction from him today, she would take pleasure from every moment with him.

“What in the name of Heaven is going on here?” an older woman demanded.

Catherine jumped back and stared at the woman as the heat of embarrassment enveloped her. At that moment, the housekeeper rushed in with their towels. After she wrapped the warm towel around Catherine’s shoulders, she did the same for Jonathan.

“As you can see, Mrs. Gates and I took a turn about the garden in the rain, then decided to water the drawing room floor,” Jonathan answered, receiving a glare from the woman.

“So, you brought a Berwick into our house.” She made a clicking sound with her tongue. “I imagine your father has rolled over in his grave.”

“Haven’t you heard? I ended the feud. The new baron and I had a touching heart—to—heart conversation in London. Now we welcome them as our own family.”

The woman sniffed in disapproval, but Jonathan continued.

“Aunt Mildred, this is Mrs. Gates. Mrs. Gates, this is Lady Holmes.”

“I suggest you ready the carriage and send her home at once,” Lady Holmes advised, before leaving the room.

Much to Catherine’s surprise, that is exactly what Jonathan did.

Jonathan swallowed the last gulp in his tankard, trying not to wince when Rawson ordered them another. So far his efforts to subtly get the information from Catherine’s cousin had failed.

Thoughts of Catherine flooded his mind. He’d never forget her dejected face when he put her in the carriage. Taking a long drink of his ale, he attempted to wash the image from his mind.

“So, how is your cousin’s courtship with Dudgery coming?” Jonathan didn’t disguise the disapproval in his voice.

Rawson stiffened. “Very well.”

“When should I expect the delightful news to be announced? I have been expecting to see it before now.”

“This is why you asked me here? I can’t begin to speak for someone else.”

Taking in his defensive tone, Jonathan dropped the subject. “I didn’t ask you to join me to speak about Mrs. Gates, but she is the reason behind the request.”

Rawson crossed his arms. “What do you mean?”

“She’s worried about you and wanted me to speak to you. I don’t know if you are experiencing any difficulties or not, but regardless, I’d like to offer my friendship, and my help if you require it.”

With an unblinking stare, Rawson studied him without a word. Not wanting to influence the man’s decision, Jonathan remained quiet, returning the man’s gaze. After a while Rawson’s shoulders sagged, and he rubbed his forehead.

“I accept your friendship, but you can’t help me.”

Jonathan shrugged. “Perhaps not, but you never know. Am I right in assuming this is in relation to the fake shipping company?”

Rawson’s eyes darted around the room. “Keep your voice down.”

“Would you prefer to talk in a more private location?”

“There really isn’t much to discuss. I already told you what I know when we spoke in London.”

“Then why would Mrs. Gates be concerned with it now?”

Sweat speckled Rawson’s brow. Catherine had been right.

“My father has agreed to invest. I don’t know how, but Dudgery secured his agreement. That only leaves . . .”

Not needing Rawson to complete his sentence, Jonathan finished for him. “. . . me.”

“I don’t know why or what will happen. All I know is that it will not be good for either of us if you don’t invest.”

Chapter 13

The scent of lavender hit Jonathan like a punch in the chest. Catherine had smelled of the delicate flower the last time he’d held her in his arms. Lavender and rain. He couldn’t think of anything more potent.

“Lord Linwood?” The gentle tug on his arm brought him back to the present. “Have I lost you again?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Glace. What was it you asked?”

“I just wanted to know what color you plan on wearing to the ball. If you don’t mind, I would like to don a similar shade.”

Surprised, Jonathan gaped at her now-red face. Although he’d never paid attention to such things in the past, he wasn’t sure matching would give the right impression. On the other hand, making a statement about their connection seemed necessary. Only he didn’t know if or to what degree he was prepared to move forward.

She was sweet, soft-spoken, and would make any man a good wife. He just didn’t know if he was any man. Logically he knew he should get married, but in practice, he didn’t know if he could do it. After two weeks of seeing her almost every day, he’d hoped to be closer to having an answer.

“I haven’t decided on a particular color,” Jonathan answered.

“Oh.” Miss Glace turned her attention back to their surroundings. “It’s that other woman. Isn’t it?”

Jonathan jerked to a stop. Miss Glace faced him, arching a delicate brow. Her eyes indicated denial would be futile. How could he explain his heart belonged to another? That she would never mean to him what Catherine did?

“She is irrelevant.”

Miss Glace offered him a sympathetic smile. “I can see she hurt you. Don’t think you are alone in your sorrow. I, too, have experienced the anguish dealt by someone I cared for. Rest assured, living gets easier.”

Smiling at her earnest expression, Jonathan felt a camaraderie he’d never expected with the young girl. He knew nothing of her past. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be part of her future.

“I believe I shall wear my emerald green waistcoat to the ball.”

The following day as Jonathan penned letters to his friends, he knew he’d made the right decision regarding Miss Glace. Both Richard and Greyson were happily married. Although
he
wouldn’t be marrying for love as they had, he didn’t imagine his happiness would overly suffer due to it.

Images of Catherine and Miss Glace invaded his mind. There was no comparison between the two women. Realizing soon Catherine would be completely unavailable to him had him rifling through the drawer for the last bottle of special reserve brandy from Ravenhurst.

Splashing some into a glass, he replaced the decanter. As the bottle made contact with the bottom of the drawer, the thud sounded odd. Intrigued, he leaned forward to inspect the drawer. After a few seconds,
click
, and the bottom slid back. A brown book resided within the confines of the drawer. Drawing it forward, Jonathan set it in the middle of his desk.

The book belonged to his father, for it didn’t appear to have aged enough to reach further back into his family. Reluctance flooded him, for he wasn’t sure he wanted to open the book. His father hadn’t been known for being the most honest person.

Finishing his brandy, Jonathan decided he needed to know what secrets laid within the pages. Lifting the cover, he peered inside at his father’s scrawl. Page after page displayed the damning contents. He could hardly believe what he read.

Linwood wasn’t in trouble, but it would have been if his father had still been alive. He’d slowly been draining the account for various pursuits—women, alcohol, gambling, and bad investments. His father had condemned Jonathan for living a dissolute life when he himself took it to the extreme.

Shoving the book aside, Jonathan decided he didn’t want to know any more, until one word caught his eye. Dudgery. He drew the book back to him. His father had invested in the fake shipping company. In addition, judging from the notes, he had only paid a portion of the promised investment. The total amount was exorbitant.

He could no longer act as if the shipping company would not affect him. The time had come for him to approach Dudgery.

“You need to speak with your intended today,” Uncle Toban said.

“I talk with him almost every day.” Catherine tilted her head questioningly at her uncle, as if she didn’t understand his meaning. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she wanted him to explain.

“He hasn’t announced your betrothal yet, and I believe the time has passed for him to make his intentions known.”

“But his cousin—”

“Will understand,” he finished.

A band had been wrapped about her chest, cutting off her ability to breathe. She wasn’t ready to marry the earl any longer. After all, his proposal hadn’t come about from any fond emotions on his part. Besides, her heart hadn’t accepted the fact she would no longer be able to have Jonathan.

She hadn’t seen him in much too long. The last time had been the day she’d practically attacked him outside the stable. Her body still hummed in discomfort when she thought about him. Those feelings had sent her to Linwood lands several times over the past fortnight, but they had yet to cross paths. If she married Dudgery, she feared she would always carry an ache for Jonathan with her.

“I don’t know if I should be the one to speak with him. Perhaps if you hold the discussion . . .”

Uncle Toban stretched a smile across his tight lips. “I disagree. Once he hears of your anxiety for the wedding, he will be more inclined to set a date.”

“What if I’m not anxious?” She swallowed down her nerves and stared directly into her uncle’s eyes. “I’m not sure I wish to marry him.”

His face turned bright red, and he seemed to grow before her very eyes. “You accepted his proposal. I’ll toss you out right now if you have no intention of honoring the promise you made. No family of mine shall act in such a manner.”

Tears sprung to her eyes. How could he care so little for her that he would not take her feelings into consideration? He would turn her out without a second thought. As the proof of her distress flowed down her cheeks, her uncle’s angry stare didn’t weaken. He simply stood and left the room.

She’d hardly had a chance to compose herself when Lord Dudgery arrived. She knew her despair showed on her face, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The earl himself caused most of her misery.

“Good morning, Catherine,” he greeted. “The day is lovely. Would you care to take a ride with me?”

“No, thank you,” she replied, keeping her shoulders back even as he narrowed his eyes. “I would much prefer to join your mother for tea.”

“Why would you desire that?” Suspicion laced his words.

Although she didn’t wish to push Dudgery for her uncle’s sake, she agreed with his reasoning. “I do believe it is time to announce our betrothal to her.”

His lips pinched tight as a flash of anger ran through his eyes. “I have already explained to you about my cousin.”

“Yes, and I admire your generosity toward him. However, what if he defies the odds and lives another year or two? Are we to live like this for that long?”

Immediately his face softened. He must have misinterpreted her reason to mean what her uncle had suggested. As he moved to sit beside her, she straightened her back and leaned away.

“Dearest, I’m sorry to make you wait, but I know your kind soul wouldn’t deny an old man one final pleasant thought before he passed.”

He reached out and patted her knee. Resisting the urge to jump up and run from him, she held herself still and kept the bile down. When he pressed his lips to hers, she suffered his kiss until his hand began to caress her leg. Jerking back, she swatted his hand from her and stood.

“My lord, this behavior is inappropriate. Especially in light of the fact that you have no plans to announce our engagement. Until that time, please cease coming here.”

Without waiting for his response, Catherine fled the room. Her body didn’t stop trembling until she and Daisy left her uncle’s estate behind them. Not wishing to run into Jonathan, and having no desire to be in the company of his delightful brothers, she turned in the opposite direction of Linwood.

Breathing became difficult as she tore across the land. She was stuck. Her uncle didn’t want her and probably would never agree to turn her funds over to her. Lord Dudgery only desired to marry her to further his own agenda with her uncle. That left Jonathan.

Jonathan wanted her. But she couldn’t have him. Life with him would only be possible as his mistress. She shook her head, knowing she couldn’t live a life in exile, existing for each moment when he would return to her. However, if the curse was broken . . .

She mentally shook herself. She couldn’t think like that. Those thoughts would drive her mad. Losing Luke and Solomon had been difficult, but losing Jonathan would be devastating. She’d never loved anyone the way she loved him.

As she and Daisy continued on, Catherine found herself in unfamiliar terrain. She had traversed every path on both Berwick and Linwood property but never saw this. Had she ventured onto the earl’s land?

Curious, she continued onward, taking note of the disrepair of each building. So absorbed in her surroundings, she almost crossed the bridge, or rather, what was left of it.

So much neglect greeted her. She reined Daisy in before she could get close. The boards were so rotted most of the planks were missing. How could Lord Dudgery allow his estate to suffer such lack of regard? Was this why he wanted her uncle to invest? Could the earldom be failing?

“It is still odd to see you sitting as lord of the manor,” Greyson observed as Jonathan poured his two friends a brandy.

“I believe it suits me. It’s gratifying to see everyone jump to my every whim.” Jonathan leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “I hardly have to lift a finger around here.”

“In this setting I imagine the women are plentiful.” Richard raised one eyebrow as if he didn’t completely believe Jonathan’s untroubled demeanor. “Break any hearts yet?”

Jonathan swallowed. His was the only heart that earned that designation. Well, his and Miss Glace’s. “You know me. I don’t go anywhere without my attractiveness and charm.”

“Your less-than-stellar performance doesn’t have me convinced.” Greyson pinned him with one of his direct gazes.

Jonathan groaned. Apparently he wouldn’t be able to get by with imparting anything but truth to his friends. However, he refused to bring Catherine up. Both had seen how her rejection affected him years ago, and he refused to confess he’d made the mistake of opening himself up to her again.

She could go on and marry Dudgery, although the thought troubled him. Thinking of the earl brought their earlier discussion to mind. Dudgery had professed repeatedly that the shipping company existed only as an investment, and that Jonathan’s father had seen the potential. For Catherine’s sake, Jonathan hoped the man spoke the truth.

“What is troubling you?” Richard sat forward and rested his elbows against his knees as his attention fixed upon him.

“I have decided to leave my rakish lifestyle behind me. The time has passed for me to settle down, so I have chosen a worthy wife.”

Jonathan laughed to see both men’s eyes widened.

“Your vow to remain a bachelor?” Greyson asked as his brows lifted.

“Has been abolished. My dear Aunt Mildred”—both his friends cringed at the name—“has informed me she refuses to leave my house until I wed.”

“So you have selected the more favorable choice.” Richard leaned back and crossed his arms. “Although I can’t argue with your logic, I can’t see you, of all people, making this decision.”

“From the second I told you of my betrothal to Abigail, you made it clear you held a disdain for marriage brought about by anything less than love,” Greyson pointed out.

Jonathan’s head began to throb. He wanted to switch the focus from himself, but he knew the men carefully watching him wouldn’t give up. Sighing, he closed his eyes and put his head back in his chair.

“You’re right. I detest men, such as myself, who enter into a marriage believing love is unnecessary. Love is a gift. As such, someone must bestow it upon you. You can’t simply take it.”

Silence echoed in the room. Not even breathing could be heard. Jonathan opened his eyes, half-expecting to see the room empty. Instead he saw pity. He didn’t want their sympathy, and he refused to take it.

“I hear your pain. I just think—”

“How is Brianna coming along with her painting?” Jonathan inserted before Richard could finish his thought.

Richard took a deep breath, as if reluctant to change the subject. “Quite well. She doesn’t know I have secured her a place to showcase her work.”

Greyson sat forward. “Has a date been scheduled? Abigail has inquired after Brianna’s talent and would enjoy a chance to see it.”

“I will leave it up to my wife, but I’m thinking the beginning of next Season would be an ideal time.”

Jonathan allowed their words to enter his mind without registering. Earning the disapproval of both Richard and Greyson made him pause. In all their years as friends, he’d come to respect their opinions, and he knew they’d never give him bad advice.

Later that night, as he sat at the dinner table with his friends, their wives, his aunt, and all three of his brothers, the thought still wouldn’t leave his mind. Stanwick had watched him with concern from the second he arrived from London, whereas Aunt Mildred ignored his mood. Jonathan suspected she knew the cause and had no desire for him to make a decision against marrying, so she kept her mouth shut.