Love Me Always (9 page)

She peeked over his shoulder again. “I’m worried about your uncle. He’s so tired, and I fear he will collapse if we don’t get him up to bed to rest. Can these people not understand his health is poor and they need to leave?”

Inwardly, he groaned.
I’m such a dolt!
Why hadn’t he thought of his uncle’s welfare first? He glanced over his shoulder at Grant. Weariness drew lines on the older man’s face, making him appear much older than his years. “You’re correct. We need to get him up to his room. I shall help you take him up then come back down and give the excuses to our guests.”

The music ended and he moved away, but she remained standing in place. He furrowed his brow. “Is there something amiss?”

“I...uh, I do not think it’s proper for me to get him ready for bed. After all, I’m not married to him.”

Nick laughed. “Kitty, my sweet, he has a servant who does that for him. All you have to do is help me take him to the stairs and tell him goodnight.”

Her worried expression eased. “Indeed? That’s all?”

“Yes.” He laughed, took her hand, and hooked it around his elbow. “Come, let’s rescue the duke.”

* * * *

Catherine fidgeted at the foot of Grant’s bed as his servant tucked the blankets around his waist. Witnessing such a personal thing seemed improper, yet Grant had assured her since they were practically engaged it was suitable to come with him to his room.

Unsure, she glanced over her shoulder toward the door, waiting for Mrs. Berkley to come rescue her. Catherine did
not
feel she should be in the man’s bedchamber. This was not right, and her churning stomach wouldn’t calm for all the convincing Grant tried to do.

And why had Nick left to return to the party? Didn’t he know she shouldn’t be alone with Grant?

When she looked back at Grant, she frowned. Fatigue had carved a permanent shadow on his still handsome features, and her heart clenched. The servant turned and walked away. It was all Catherine could do not to reach out, grab his arm, and beg him to stay.

Grant’s gaze searched the room until it stopped on her, and a weary smile claimed his face. “My dear, sweet, Catherine. You’re so very caring to leave your guests and see to my welfare.”

“You are more important. I want you to regain your strength and be the healthy man I remember from my youth.”

“Come closer, my dear, so that I can see you clearly.”

On unsure legs, she did as asked, moving around the bed to his side. Her heart hammered against her ribs, reminding her once again that this was not right. She patted his hand, not really wanting to touch him so personal, but he clasped her fingers with his.

“Catherine? Are you happy here?”

She hesitated in answering.
Was she?
Yes, she was happy – until she remembered she’d soon be his wife. But right now, somber would best describe her feelings.

“Of course, Grant. Your family is very kind to me. Your friends have given me a warm welcome tonight. How could I not be happy?”

“How is Nick treating you?”

Her mouth turned dry, yet her hands became moist. Memories from their brief kiss flowed through her mind. “Nick is slowly realizing I’ll be part of the family. When he first came to my house to get me, he was a little reserved, but he’s now coming to terms with our arrangement. A little while ago when we danced, he was very charming.”

Grant nodded. “Nick can put on a good appearance in public, but not to worry, he will soon understand why I have chosen you.”

She smiled, but during the next pause of silence, his gaze moved off her face, down her neck…and further. Her heart thumped in a fierce rhythm. The heated expression on his face changed him so drastically, almost as if she stood next to an entirely different person. Chills of dread crawled up her spine, making her stomach lurch.
Why does he look at me like that?

“You’re so very beautiful,” he whispered, his voice sounded almost foreign to her.

She sucked in her breath. Would he do something improper?
Oh, where are you Mrs. Berkley? And Nicholas, come back!

His eyes fluttered closed. Relief poured through her and she sighed.

“Go now and enjoy the rest of the party,” he spoke with great effort. “I’m so thrilled that you are finally here. I have waited so long...so long to see you again...Sophia.” Deep breaths consumed his weary body.

All air escaped her lungs – or had she forgotten to breathe? Catherine stared blankly at him, not certain if she’d heard him wrong. Had he really called her mother’s name, Sophia? Why would he mistake her for her mother, unless...

Catherine gasped, covered her mouth and rushed out of the room. Slowly her mind pieced everything together and things began to make sense. He must want her because she looked so much like her mother. She’d resembled her mother at age fourteen, and that was when Grant offered for her. Since he couldn’t have Sophia, he was going to have her.

What am I going to do now?
Was it too late to call everything off? Unfortunately, she doubted she could accomplish such a task even if she wanted.

She took slow steps down the long staircase, her mind spinning in a million different directions, keeping her from thinking straight. Really, there was nothing she could do. She was stuck in this relationship.

Catherine rubbed her forehead as a slight pound began. Why was life so complicated? Why did her parents have to promise her to a man who looked at her as if she were somebody else? How could she become married to a man when he’d think of her mother the whole time? This wasn’t fair!

“Blast it all,” she cursed fate aloud in vile anger, hitting her fist into the railing on the stairs.

* * * *

Nick walked through the hallway, heading toward the staircase when the sweet voice of a woman cursing floated through the air. He bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing. Obviously the woman thought she was the only one in the house. After he turned the corner and noticed the person in question was Catherine, he did laugh – and hard.

She jumped from his sudden outburst and stopped on the stairs. Her face flamed at least three shades of red, which made his laughter grow.

“The perfect Catherine has a flaw after all.” Nick leaned his hip against the banister and stared up at her. She looked extremely lovely right now; so pure and sweet, but mostly intoxicating even with a scarlet-colored face.

“I’m not perfect,” she snapped and straightened her back as she continued to descend.

He chuckled. “Yes, I know, but there for a while, I thought you were.”

She stopped on the step in front of him. “You…you…you were not supposed to hear that.”

“Obviously, but I’m very grateful you rewarded me the privilege.”

She huffed. “If you were a real gentleman, you would pretend not to hear, and you would certainly not tease me about it.”

She was so adorable right now, making him want to laugh and to be by her side for the rest of the evening. But it was more than that. He wanted her in his arms. Now.

No
, he argued with himself. Being so personal would only cause him pain. He must make her mad at him. That was the only way.

Laughter quickly left him as he moved in front of her. Since she stood on the bottom step, it made her exactly his height.

“What makes you presume I’m a gentleman?”

Confusion creased her brow. “Nicholas? What are you saying? Of course you are a gentleman.”

In one quick motion, he clamped his hands around her waist and roughly pulled her against him. She gasped. Was it in fear or excitement? He couldn’t be certain, but the sweet sound of her voice turned his insides to honey.

“I’m not going to lie to you and tell you I’m a gentleman. In fact, my sweet Catherine, I will warn you. Most women consider me a scoundrel, so beware. You don’t want to play your feminine games with me because if you do, you shall not escape unscathed.”

His original intent was to frighten her so she’d leave him alone, slap him, or say something hateful to make him stop. Instead, the heavy breaths fanning his face and the way she quivered told him she wasn’t frightened at all.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and suddenly the urge to kiss her overpowered him. As hard as he tried to fight it, he knew he couldn’t resist this time.

He roughly pressed his mouth to hers. It was a kiss meant to punish her. Instead, it tortured him. Her lips were so very soft. Pulling back, he hesitated.
What am I doing?
She leaned forward, her eyes closed.
I’m done for! She wants this too!

He placed his mouth over hers, once more. She released a sigh and melted into his arms. He tightened his hold to keep her from falling. When she wrapped her arms around his neck, he softened the kiss. Fireworks exploded in his head and a strange dizziness took over.

Warning bells rang through his head, telling him this was something he shouldn’t be doing. She wasn’t some other man’s property, but his uncle’s fiancée.

He forced himself to break the passionate kiss. He held her until she was able to stand on her own, then he yanked his hands away as if she were on fire.

Catherine’s wide-eyed gaze stayed on his for the longest time as her ragged breaths continued. He tried to unscramble the turbulent thoughts, but no explanation came. Before he followed through with his yearnings and took her back into his arms, he cursed fate and moved past her, bolting up the stairs to his Grant’s room.

Chapter Five

Dark.

Cold.

Silence deafened the night. Misty darkness swarmed through the room like an eerie fog of the unknown. Catherine crawled out of bed. Everything seemed to spin around her and she grabbed her head. Her skull throbbed as though she’d consumed an entire bottle of spirits, yet she knew she hadn’t.

“Mother?” she whispered as she fought for control.

Taking careful steps, she made her way to the bedroom door and opened it. “Mother?” she called out again. Silence washed over the house.

She blinked, adjusting her vision to the darkness as she moved down the hall. The door to her parent’s room stood ajar. Had Father returned? She peeked inside. Empty.

“Mother?” She raised her voice, worry creeping inside her chest as she padded down the stairs. Still no answer.

When she reached the bottom of the steps and turned toward the living room, she stopped. A gasp flew from her throat and she covered her mouth.

Remnants of what used to be her sofa lay ripped and scattered over the floor. Dishes from the cabinet were in pieces. Chairs had been turned over, legs broken.

Her heartbeat increased. Her body shook.

“Mother?”

She swung toward the kitchen. Curtains had been ripped from the window, allowing the moonlight to shine through. Tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision, but not enough to keep her from seeing stains of blood splattered on the wall, on the table, on the floor, covering a still body...

“Mother!”

She ran to her mother and fell to her knees beside the body. With the moon’s help, the color of death became apparent on her mother’s face. Her nightgown had been ripped in many places, stained crimson. The poker from the fireplace, bloody as it lay beside her mother’s head.

Catherine reached out to touch her mother’s cheek, but withdrew her shaky hand. It didn’t matter. Her mother was dead.

Murdered.

Once again, the mist of darkness flooded her head, made her mind spin out of control. As if seeing the next few months fly before her eyes. The funeral. Her father’s accusations. Returning to school lonelier than she’d been before.

She squeezed her eyes tighter to fight the bad memories washing through. Suddenly, another image came to her. A handsome man with dark hair and green eyes. Spellbinding eyes.

Nicholas.

She was with him on the stairs again, wrapped in his comforting arms while she kissed him. Memories of her mother’s death left and she drifted into a blissful state where only Nick could take her. Catherine smiled.

She kissed him longer this time, but when she withdrew to look into his heavenly eyes, it was Grant’s sightless eyes that stared back, a scowl creased on his forehead and tight mouth in accusing silent.

Crying out, Catherine sprang to a sitting position in bed, clutching the covers at her neck. Her breaths were quick, harsh. Her heart pounded a fierce rhythm while a heavy pain gathered in her chest. Although a dream, it seemed real. Guilt for kissing Nick last night had condemned her for certain. Yet why had she dreamed about the time she found her mother?

A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it. How long had she been crying? Apparently, the dream caused more heartache than she’d been prepared for.

Lying back, she clutched a pillow to her chest and rocked. It’d been quite a while since the confused memories from long ago when her mother died crushed her so painfully she couldn’t breathe. Her Father had told her that memory loss – which Catherine obviously had – was a sign of her mother’s illness. A shiver ran through her and she pushed the depressing thoughts aside.