Love Me Always (22 page)

The older man nodded without smiling. “Good morning to you, Miss Catherine.”

“Is Grant awake? I would very much like to talk to him.”

“I’m about ready to bathe him. If you would like to come back in an hour, I’m sure he’ll be more presentable then.”

Although Catherine didn’t want to wait, she had no other choice. “Thank you, Hobbs. I will return later.”

Catherine took careful steps down the hall and into the breakfast room, fearful her head would split open if she walked too hard. If only she could sleep, this headache would leave, she was certain.

Through squinted eyes, she peered into the room. Her father sat by himself at the table, a piece of bread halfway up to his mouth as he stared wide-eyed at Catherine.

Inwardly, she groaned. Knowing her father, he’d see right into her heart and know what had happened with her and Nick, and more importantly, what she wanted to talk to Grant about today. It would be her own fault if lightning struck her from heaven right this minute, and knowing her father, he’d say she deserved it.

“Good morning, Catherine. How are you?”

Catherine didn’t smile, nor did she scowl. It would take too much effort and probably be too painful. She moved with slowness to the table and took a seat across from him. Resting her face in her hands, she said, “As you can probably tell, I have quite a headache this morning.” She peeked between her fingers. “How about you?”

Henry’s smile made Catherine’s stomach churn. Did she detect malice lurking in his eyes?

He linked his fingers together and rested them on the table. “I had a most pleasant evening, and today is beginning to look brighter, thank you.”

“When are you going to return home? Don’t you have a business to attend?”

“Not since I retired, my dear. Besides, even if I did, my daughter comes first.”

Catherine dropped her fisted hands to the table and scowled. “Why didn’t you think of your daughter first before now? Why didn’t you think of your daughter two years ago when she needed you the most?” Although each heated word created a painful throb in her head, she couldn’t stop the words from flowing from her tongue.

His eyebrow arched. “What are you prattling on about?”

Her heart clenched. He hadn’t even remembered. “I’m referring to those awful weeks after Mother’s death. I needed someone who would comfort me, but you refused.”

His cup of coffee was halfway to his mouth, but he stopped. His eyes darkened, and she was certain fire would shoot out any moment. A muscle in his cheek twitched and his jaw hardened.

He straightened and slowly sat his cup on the table, his gaze never wavering from hers.

“This is sudden. Why bring up this after all these years?”

“It’s been
two
years, Father. Don’t make it sound longer than that.”

He nodded. “Fine. So why discuss this now?”

“Because I want to know the
real
reason you’re here, Father. Why do you have concern for your daughter now when you haven’t had that emotion for quite some time?”

He leaned forward on the table. “I’d rather not talk about your mother’s death.” His tone of voice was lower, deeper. His gaze narrowed, his jaw tightened. “And you know the reason.”

Tears stung her eyes and a knot formed in her throat. “Yes, but I don’t understand. You’ve never told me why you think I killed her.”

Nostrils flaring, his chest heaved with deep breaths. “Your mind has hidden the truth from you.”

She shook her head. “Why would I want to kill my own mother? There’s no logical explanation,” she whispered.

“I beg to differ. Insanity runs on your mother’s side of the family. Because of your outrage when you discovered your betrothal, I think you went mad.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “Then why can’t I remember?”

“Because your mind has blocked it out, child.”

She took in a deep breath. “Why didn’t you turn me over to the police?”

He raked his fingers through his hair and rubbed his skull. “Because you’re my daughter and I’ll protect you.” His gaze softened. “And no matter what you think, I do love you and care about your well-being.”

Fresh tears joined the stream running down her face. “If you cared so much, why did you betroth me to an older man?”

“Oh, not this again.” He scowled and shook her head. “We have been over this countless times. Your mother and I wanted what was best for you. Why can’t you see what a fortunate girl you really are?”

Obviously, he would never understand. Catherine quickly stood and wiped her wet cheeks. “You’re right, Father. We have talked about this subject too much already. I grow weary of trying to make you feel my frustration.”

She turned and walked toward the door, then stopped. She called over her shoulder, “I would like you out of this house this afternoon. Your presence is putting too much stress on Grant, and I fear he’ll go into another attack. Maybe when he’s better you can come back for another visit, but I don’t want to see you again before that time.”

She angrily marched out of the room, almost knocking down a few servants on her way. When she turned the corner, she ran smack into Hodgson, who grasped her shoulders to keep her upright.

“My dear, Catherine. What’s wrong?”

The worried expression on the older servant’s face made her emotions crumble. She covered her face and leaned against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and cooed softly.

“Oh, Hodgson. Why can my father not understand this turmoil I’m in?”

He stroked her hair. “I wish I knew.” He lifted her chin with his fingers. “Have you gone to the Lord with this problem? The good Lord will always understand.”

Sniffing, she wiped her eyes. “Hodgson, when did you become so smart?”

“I’ve always been this way.” He chuckled. “Why else do you think your father keeps an old man like me around?”

“You’re not much older than my father.”

“No, we’re not.” He grinned. “Do you know we are related?”

“Indeed?” She gasped. “Father never told me that.”

“Well, we are second cousins. I was from the poorer side of the family. But we were close growing up, and that’s why he puts up with me.”

She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “You are a wonderful man, Hodgson. Why couldn’t you be my father?”

He shrugged. “Because your father got to Sophia first.”

She laughed and pulled away. “Thank you for making me smile.”

“Any time, my dear.” He patted her head and walked away.

Taking a deep breath, Catherine hurried up the stairs, straight to her room and didn’t stop to relax until her bedroom door closed. Although Hodgson took away her anger momentarily, too many confusing emotions stormed rapidly through her mind: those from the past, and especially those from the present. How could she deal with everything? Last night’s confession from Nick had only added to her list of problems. Staying locked in her room wouldn’t solve anything.

She wandered to her vanity and looked in the mirror. The long sleeved, yellow satin day dress made her face pale, even though she was certain her churning stomach had a lot to do with it. Running her hand over her warm cheeks, she swiped the last trace of tears. She smoothed her long hair, not having the ambition to wear it in a fashionable bun today.

A frown marred her face, and she pinched her cheeks to give her ghostly appearance a little color. She must find the courage to talk to Grant no matter the consequences. There must be a way to prove they shouldn’t marry – and actually have him agree.

She kneeled by her bed and said a prayer for strength and courage, and for the Lord to help her say the right things. She stood and smoothed out her dress. Taking a cleansing breath, she walked out of her room and to Grant’s. After she knocked, Hobbs opened the door.

“Is now a good time to see His Grace?”

“Yes, Miss Catherine.” He motioned her hand to enter, and once Catherine did, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Nick was here, too!

Standing at the end of the bed, leaning his shoulder against the post, his gaze met hers, his warm smile growing the longer he stared. Keeping cool indifference as her mask, she tried to appear as if his affecting scrutiny didn’t make her legs weak.

Something different hung in the air as she looked from Nick to his uncle. Both men looked a trite forlorn.

Inwardly she groaned. She definitely couldn’t discuss what she had planned now...not with Nick here and not in this atmosphere. Lifting her chin, she walked past him and to the bed where Grant sat with a breakfast tray on his lap.

“Hello, Grant. How are you feeling this morning?”

A frown marred the duke’s face. “I’m feeling well I suppose...considering the tragedy that happened late last night.”

She sucked in a breath. Did he already know about Nick’s confession to her? Was that why Nick was here now? Should she quickly explain? But then, Nick didn’t look as if guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders. Perhaps it wasn’t what she’d thought.

“Late last night? What happened?”

“You didn’t hear?” Nick asked.

“Hear what?”

“Mary, Uncle Grant’s nurse, was killed. Beaten to death, in fact.”

She gasped and covered her mouth. “Oh, dear Lord. How awful.”

“Yes, it is.” Grant grasped her hand. “Nobody seems to know anything. The constable is looking into the matter, though, and I have every confidence the culprit will be found.”

“I’m relieved to hear that,” she said. “I know I’ll sleep better once this crazed person is caught.”

Grant took hold of her hands, pulling her to sit next to him. He kissed her hands gently. “What can I do for my beautiful Catherine today?”

Since she couldn’t say what she’d originally planned, she had to do some quick thinking. “Um...I was going to ask if we could go to the opera, but because of the bad news about Mary...”

Grant waved his hand through the air. “The opera is a stupendous idea. It will give the constable time to question our servants and search for evidence, plus it will help us get our minds off Mary. Besides, it’s about time we appear in public, do you not agree?”

Hesitating, she held her breath. No, she didn’t really want to appear in public with him, not when she wanted to break off their engagement before it was even announced. But she couldn’t tell him that. Once again, she prayed the Lord would forgive her for lying. “Yes, I agree.”

Grant’s gaze switched to Nick. “Perhaps you and your brothers would like to join us? We can make this into a family affair.”

Inwardly, she cringed. Although she didn’t mind Gregg and Ian being there, Nick could
not
come with them. His nearness made her too breathless and she couldn’t have Grant noticing.

Nick’s gaze remained on her. “I can’t speak for my brothers, but I’d love to go. I haven’t been to the opera in quite a while.” His voice stayed solemn, and she couldn’t read his expression.

“Splendid,” Grant said. “Will you inform your brothers of our plans?” He picked up the mostly empty tray and handed it to Hobbs. “I’m going to get plenty of rest today. I don’t want anything to ruin this evening.”

“Neither do I,” Nick replied.

Even with the terrible news of the nurse, she couldn’t stop her heart from skipping with anticipation. Then she scolded her reaction. Her only purpose tonight was to help Grant see they should not wed, and she’d do it – or die trying.

Chapter Thirteen

Nick stood down the hall from Catherine’s room, his gaze focused on her door. Her maid had been in there for over an hour, and he’d exhausted his patience wearing out the carpet while waiting. He had to see her again. Alone. Had to hold her, and kiss her, and tell her that he loved her.

And he had to convince himself Catherine had nothing to do with Mary’s death.

He shook that thought out of his head. Of course Catherine didn’t. Just because she had been suspicious of Mary’s closeness with his uncle didn’t mean anything.

Or did it?

Growling, he pushed his fingers through his hair. No, Catherine wasn’t capable of such a thing. A crazed person was to blame for murdering a servant in such a violent way, not the woman he loved with all his heart. And he’d forget about the misleading comments Colonel Martin had put into his head earlier. No matter what her father said, Catherine did not kill Mary.

His uncle had taken Mary’s death harder than Nick figured he would. So perhaps Grant was in love with Mary and not Catherine…

Nick shook his head. The duke confused him greatly. Perhaps it was his illness making him seem like a different person. Sometimes the old man acted like he couldn’t wait to marry Catherine, and other times he would rather pawn her onto Nick or his brothers. He wondered if his uncle did this just so he could spend more time with Mary, which was how it really appeared.

He strode to the hall window and peered outside. Night had blanketed the land, only the full moon gave light to the creatures of the dark. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he sighed. If he could have changed the way things had ended with Catherine last night, he would. He didn’t mean for his confession of love to sound like a farewell. That was far from what he wanted. Deep emotions ran through him, telling him he could never say goodbye to her. No matter if she married his uncle, he would always love her.