Love Me Always (5 page)

* * * *

Shouts and laughter boomed from the coach, and Nick cringed. His brothers made an obscene amount of noise, which meant they found their soon-to-be aunt very amusing. Regret stabbed at him whenever he heard the musical sounds of merriment, and at times he wished he could join them. He couldn’t. Because he was the eldest, he must take charge. Somebody needed to keep this caravan going. It fell upon his shoulders, as it always would, especially once his uncle died.

Since Grant hadn’t fathered any children, Nick was next in line to inherit the dukedom. He wasn’t worried about stepping into his new position, but he doubted he could handle it with as much skill as Grant had. Nick hoped he could contain his out-of-control brothers and keep them from gambling away their allowances.

Nick paused in thought and chuckled to himself. What was he thinking? His uncle was a great businessman and had tripled the family fortune since Nick was a small lad. Grant had taught Nick well, and he was confident he could continue to build his inheritance.

But where would Catherine live after his uncle died? Nick certainly didn’t want her living in the same house with him and his brothers. What a scandal that would make. It wouldn’t matter to society if she were their step-aunt. Catherine’s young age and beauty overrode that. Yet, he couldn’t toss her out and send her elsewhere to live.

For Nick’s own well-being he couldn’t have her that close knowing she would always be out of his grasp.

A commotion behind him pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned. The coach stopped and his brothers climbed out. This would be a good time to have a talk with Catherine to tell her of Uncle Grant’s condition.

He pulled his horse around and to the coach before dismounting. He ignored the drawn brows from his brothers, and tossed one of the servants the reins. Nick walked to the vehicle and peered inside. Once Catherine saw him, her cheeks darkened. His presence must still rattle her. They were evenly matched then.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted nicely. “Is it permissible to ride with you for a spell? It’s most important we discuss some things before we reach home.”

She nodded.

He climbed in and sat on the seat across from her. Mrs. Berkley gave him a curt nod, then turned and looked out the window.

For the first few moments, silence crackled through the air as he searched for the words to say. Catherine squirmed in her seat, then straightened her back and lifted her chin.

She cleared her throat. “Are we almost there?”

He tried to ignore the heavenly lift of her voice. “We’ll arrive at the estate first thing in the morning.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “Do you plan on traveling through the night?”

“No, Miss Martin.
There are too many highwaymen ready to nab wealthy people once the sun
sets,
and I don’t plan on giving them that opportunity. We shall stop at an inn.”

“Oh.”

“Miss Martin, the reason I need to talk with you is—”

“Please, call me Catherine like you did when we were younger.”

He really didn’t want to think about those days, but nodded.
“As you wish.”
He swallowed hard. “Anyway, the reason I need to talk with you is because I feel it’s my responsibility to inform you about my uncle.” He paused briefly to collect his thoughts. “Has anyone told you he’s ill?”

She nodded. “Gregg and Ian mentioned he’s been under the weather lately, which is the reason he couldn’t come for me himself.”

“Unfortunately, it’s more serious than that. I don’t think Gregg or Ian know exactly how ill our uncle is.”

“How serious is he?”

Nick pushed his fingers through the thickness of his hair and relaxed against the seat, meeting her big, questioning violet eyes. “Uncle Grant is dying.”

She sucked in her breath. Even Mrs. Berkley snapped her head his way.

He continued in a softer tone. “He has been sick for the past year, and his health is slowly declining. Lately, he’s been so gravely ill he’s needed the constant care of his personal nurse.”

“Why?” Catherine’s voice broke.

“For some reason, the disease is slowly taking away his sight.”

Her hands trembled so she clutched them together and held them against her stomach. “How…how…long....”

“I don’t know and neither do the physicians.”

She shook her head. “If he’s dying, then why...why does he still want to marry me?”

He shrugged. “I cannot answer that. My uncle realizes he’s dying, but he will not listen to me. I have tried to get him to see the situation he’s placing you in, but he refuses to listen. He says he wants his last days to be shared with a beautiful woman who will make him happy.”

An ashen color crept over her cheeks and her eyes grew wide.

His heart clenched. She did care about his uncle. What an idiot Nick had been to assume otherwise. Grant had spoiled her as a young girl, even sent her to the best finishing school England had to offer.

“Catherine, might I ask you a personal question?”

“Yes.”

“I have already mentioned I could hear your voice
raised
in anger when I first arrived at your cottage.”

The color moved to cover the rest of her face, going a shade darker.

“Although I couldn’t hear every word, I received the impression you were not pleased with something.”

Mrs. Berkley straightened and cleared her throat. He really wished she’d leave, but he didn’t want his ears verbally boxed again. Catherine glanced at her companion before meeting his eyes.

“Indeed, I was displeased.” Her voice softened.

“What are your feelings in regards to marrying the duke?”

She lowered her gaze as she grasped her hands so tight her knuckles turned white. “I’m extremely disappointed to think my parents arranged my intended marriage without my consent.”

He nodded.
“As I’m certain you have surmised, I also disapprove of my uncles forthcoming nuptials.
But I need to know if you will put your fears and anger aside and make Uncle Grant happy in his final days.”

He snapped his mouth closed. What had he just asked? Did he really mean that? Yet as much as he disliked seeing the girl of his childhood dreams marry someone else, Grant Fielding’s happiness was most important.

She blinked her wide eyes. “I—I—I was led to believe that my visit would be to see if the duke and I suited.”

“Yes, I know, but if the marriage takes place, will you then try to make him happy? I remember several years back when we had come to visit and he brought you gifts. Just seeing your smile brightened his day.”

Tears formed in her eyes and her jaw tightened. “Yes. I shall try my best to please him.” Her voice shook.

Nick released a heavy sigh and squeezed her clasped hands. “Thank you, Catherine.”

“May I now ask you something of a personal nature?”

Wary about her request, he slowly nodded. “Proceed.”

“I know I have done something to upset you, but for your uncle’s sake can you at least try and be civil toward me? Can you not look at me without scowling?”

He snatched his hand away. He couldn’t promise that. Hiding his broken heart behind the wall of anger was the only way to mask his feelings. “It’s irrelevant how I look at you. My uncle will probably not even see.”

“True, but he will notice a change in the way I act around you, and he will most certainly wonder why.”

Nick huffed and glanced out the window, hoping she’d end the subject.
If she only knew...

“Please?” she continued. “Your brothers don’t seem to have a problem with being my friend, so why not you?
If only for appearance sake?”

After a few awkward moments, Nick turned and met her stare. Her blue eyes were wide and pleading. Why was he going to give in? And why was his heart softening the longer he looked at her? “Very well, I will. But mind you, it will only happen in front of my uncle.”

She smiled – genuinely smiled – and the wall of ice he’d constructed around his heart cracked. Even though she made a lovely picture, which he could lose himself in, discomfort settled deep in his gut. Suddenly the coach became extremely small and cramped.

“Yes...well...um, now that we have that settled, I shall leave.”

He tapped twice on the roof and the coach jerked to a stop. Without another word, he climbed outside and mounted his horse. Kicking the animal into action, he tried to rid himself of the confusing feeling he’d just experienced, and somehow recover his anger.

That’d be the only way he could survive.

Chapter Three

The sun disappeared beyond the horizon and darkness blanketed the earth. Nick led his caravan to an inn where he’d previously arranged for them to stay. At this establishment, the food tasted better, the people were dressed a little nicer, and the floors were swept clean.

Catherine sat across the table, keeping his brothers’ attention. Nick twirled his spoon around the stew in his bowl, listening to the conversation at the table as he watched Catherine’s reactions. Every time she smiled and laughed, a beautiful sparkle lit her blue eyes. Caught unawares, his stomach flip-flopped.

Tearing his focus away from Catherine, he looked upon the serving woman who brought another plate of bread to the table. He smiled at her, but nothing like the way he’d acted with the serving girl in the first inn they’d visited. Quickly, he checked to see if Catherine had noticed.

From across the table, he found her gaze on him. A slight blush stained her cheeks. Once their eyes connected, a deeper color spread across her face and neck. She looked down at the plate of meats and cheeses and picked up a slice of beef.

He grinned and brought his drink to his mouth to hide it.

“Nick?” Gregg asked. Nick dragged his attention to his brother. “We are going to escort Catherine and Mrs. Berkley to their rooms so they can retire. Would you care to join us?”

“No, I shall here.” He shifted his attention to Catherine who still had a pink tint on her cheeks. “Good evening, Catherine. I hope your bedchamber will be suitable tonight.”

She nodded. “I’m certain it will be most accommodating, thank you.”

* * * *

Catherine moved away from the table and toward the stairs with Gregg and Ian by her side. She took her time, mainly so she could watch Nick a little longer. The serving woman rushed to Nick’s side, and he gave the servant one of his earth-shattering grins.

Once again, the beat of Catherine’s heart knocked out of control. Why did she act in such a way? And how, pray, could she stop it from happening again?