Only Scandal Will Do (9 page)

“Did the young woman say how she came to be wearing the cloak?” How much had Lady Katarina actually confessed to her relation?

“I have not approached her with that question yet. I hoped you could shed some light on the subject first.”

“I suppose if she was fleeing the house she could have picked the cloak up anywhere along the corridor. Or chanced upon it in an empty room. I am still unsure if the garment is mine, but there is the possibility. I can’t remember where I took it off.” He raised an eyebrow and affected a salacious smile. “I had other things on my mind, as you may imagine. In any case, I wish you godspeed with your endeavor.” An earnest sentiment, though his actual wishes were somewhat less so. “I will address myself to Madame Vestry at the earliest opportunity, for I certainly want no more scandal attached to my family.”

“Thank you, my lord. I will return the garment once I have questioned the lady.”

Duncan waved as though the cloak were a trifle. “As I said, I’m not convinced it is mine, but I hope it will aid you in your search. If that is all, my butler will show you out.”

From his bedroom window he watched Matthews ride away from Grosvenor Square, but he saw nothing except a beautiful young woman with fiery hair, one possessed of more courage than many men he had known. And he now knew he must meet her without delay.

Surely Lady Katarina and the earl would attend the Braeton’s ball tonight. Lord and Lady Braeton were prominent horse enthusiasts, so if Aunt Phoebe was correct and the earl had a keen eye for horseflesh, he would certainly want to put in an appearance at Linden House.

Calling for Anson, Duncan began to divest himself of the ice blue outfit. He recalled Matthew’s words about Amorina’s confession and the knot in the pit of his stomach tightened. His underestimation of his ex-mistress’s desire for revenge might be the worst miscalculation of his life.

Speculation that Amorina had masterminded Lady Katarina’s kidnapping in order to complete his ruin reared its ugly head again. Why else would the girl have been brought to the House of Pleasure? And Amorina would have known the sight of the lady’s luscious copper hair would ensure he bid on that tableau.

Anson entered and hurried to remove the diamond studs and satin jacket.

At least the trap had missed its mark and scandal, even if brewing, had not yet reached the ears of the
ton
. A reprieve, though a slight one.

Duncan forced himself to focus on the hoped-for meeting with Lady Katarina. Instead of lifting his spirits, as thought of her so often did, the images coalesced into one of her brother or now Matthews calling him out.

“Anson.”

“My lord?”

“The fencing outfit, please. I believe a trip to Angelo’s is warranted this afternoon.”

“Very good, my lord.” Anson gathered the scattered pieces of Duncan’s wardrobe and headed into the dressing room.

Now clad only in linen drawers and stockings, he groaned at the memory of Lady Katarina’s seductive hips pressing against him during their struggle. His arousal returned, insistent as always when the vision of that luscious body rose before him. He cursed. If he didn’t find the woman soon, scandal would be the least of his worries.

Chapter 7

“Kat, you cannot possibly cram another thing into that trunk.” Jack was being difficult, but dear.

Katarina considered where her best riding boots might squeeze into the already tightly packed space. When moments of sanity surfaced, she couldn’t see how she could leave him. They had always put up a united front to their father, their governesses, the world. Being alone would be one of the biggest challenges she had ever faced, but she was determined. She’d hounded Jack almost night and day since he’d recovered from the blow to his temple, wheedling him to agree to her return to Virginia to seek out Captain Dawson.

She’d related her tale of adventure on that horrible night almost three weeks ago–the contrived version of course–and managed to instill in Jack the intense fear and shame of those hours. So when she’d begged him to allow her to sail back to the colonies, he’d reluctantly agreed. He even booked the passage for her on the
Constanza
, the family-owned flyut they had traveled on to England two months before.

Now she would be accompanying a Major Jameson, on his way to take a post with her father’s old regiment. He, his wife and daughter would make sure she arrived safely and provide chaperonage until she either married Captain Dawson or contacted their mother’s relatives living in Pennsylvania.

“Well, if I can’t get all these clothes in here I am going to be sorely pressed to cover myself next winter, Jack, unless you intend on sending me substantial sums of money every quarter. That would not hurt my feelings, you know.” She laughed at his outraged expression. “I suspect I will be able to get along rather well on a captain’s pay until the children come along. Then, Uncle Jack, you will be made to pay through the nose.” God, she would miss him.

“Kat, are you sure this is what you want?” His beloved face wore that woebegone expression again, the earnest blue eyes, so often merry, now a bleak gray.

She steeled her heart. “For the four hundredth time, yes! I don’t belong here in this London jungle. My home is the much safer wilderness of Virginia. You cannot know how terrified I am every time I leave the house. What if those blackguards are still out there? What if they try to take me back to that...that place? I barely escaped once. Do you think I’d be so lucky again?” This was not an idle argument; the man in the mask could indeed be looking for her.

Jack shook his head. “I do understand. But I got bashed on the head and I’m not running back home.”

She stopped trying to shove the brown leather boots into the overstuffed trunk and took his hands. “I know you’re not. Though maybe you should! You could have been killed, Jack. And then where would I be? But no, I for once have a luxury you cannot afford. It is your duty to stay here, take your place in society, marry and produce an heir. So you must face your responsibilities.” She crinkled her eyes at him. “While I manage to avoid mine.”

“What will I do without you, Kat?”

To her horror, tears threatened at his forlorn tone. She must do this.

“You will be fine without me. You’ve already made friends, you have the house and servants. You will quite possibly one day receive a letter from me and say, ‘Katarina, Katarina, where have I heard that name before?’” More soberly, she embraced her brother’s tall frame, all teasing aside. “Besides, it is not forever. I will come back now and again. For your wedding certainly, whenever that is. And who knows but that Captain Dawson may be stationed here in London at some point. I would not be so afraid here with a husband in tow.”

“Then let us simply find you a husband here.” Jack’s face lit up at the possibility. “Why is that impossible? The whole of London could be at your feet if you would only go out at night.”

“You should bow down and give thanks I have agreed to accompany you tonight. I feel positively terrified when I go out after dark.” A shiver touched her at the thought.

“I am cut to the bone. You don’t feel I can protect you.”

“Oh, I have no doubt you can.” She chuckled. “But you will have to beat me to it now.” On the rare occasions she went about at night, she carried a concealed knife and muff pistol hidden in a pocket.

“If you take to wearing your sword I’ll refuse to be seen with you,” Jack warned.

Simons discreetly cleared his throat from the hallway. “Beg pardon, milord, but Mr. Matthews would like a word with Lady Katarina.”

Kat stared at Simons, suddenly on guard. “Did he say what he wanted, Simons?”

“No, my lady.”

“Most likely a social call to ask after my welfare. Come, Jack. Do you remember Mr. Matthews? I find him quite charming.” As she led Jack from the room, she stilled her fears. She truly liked Matthews, but had the disturbing feeling he knew more about that night than she had actually told him.

She and Jack entered the reception room to find Matthews, parcel in hand, rising from a deep pink-figured Chippendale double chair. Kat made the introductions and sat in the near side seat, motioning a reluctant Matthews to reclaim his place beside her. Jack took a companion chair opposite them. “So, Mr. Matthews,” Kat began with a smile. “You are well, I trust?”

“I am, my lady.” The blue of his eyes deepened as he seemed to study her face. “And I see you and the earl have made a complete recovery from your ordeal. But I am afraid my visit is not of a social nature. A development last night regarding your abduction brings me here. Do you recognize this?” He pulled a wad of black material from its parcel. The cloak evoked such horror and shame that the room disappeared, her vision riveted on the garment in his hands. A faint smell of citrus wafted from its folds, making her stomach roll. The man in the golden mask. Her face heated.

Jack looked at her, eyebrows raised. She must say something. Deliberately softening her expression, she frowned, aiming for a touch perplexed. “I seem to recall...” She paused, gathering her courage. “I believe I stole that cloak out of a cloakroom or some such place as I fled the house, Mr. Matthews. I was concerned if I ran about the streets of London in only that scandalous Greek costume I might be accosted again. So I grabbed this and put it around me before I ran. It was terribly long. So long it dragged the ground.”

Slowly her breathing returned to normal, though a glance at Matthews confirmed he still watched her every move. Smiling so as to dimple her cheeks, she sighed to herself. Reginald Matthews, a charming and perhaps genuinely caring man, was also very, very sharp.

An awkward silence ensued. Matthews looked at her expectantly.

“I beg pardon, Mr. Matthews. I was woolgathering. You were saying?”

“I merely said you had great presence of mind to think of such a thing at such a time.” He nodded approvingly, though his voice held a hint of skepticism.

“Jack will attest I am a practical person. I tend to face life head on, more like a man than a conventional woman.”

“I quite see that about you, my lady. You were most courageous the night I met you, if you recall.”

“And I have been less so ever since, Mr. Matthews. I am now so cowardly that I scarce go out after dark.” Katarina shook her head ruefully.

“I have persuaded her to make an exception this evening,” Jack piped up. “She is to accompany me to Lady Harcourt’s rout tonight, despite her protests. It will be my last opportunity to show her off, for some time to come.”

She caught Matthews’s eye. His interest was piqued. Blast Jack’s gossiping tongue!

“You are leaving us, my lady? A sojourn on the continent to restore your spirits?”

“A voyage to America, where I am to be married.”

“Married?” Matthews’s voice rose in surprise, but he recovered quickly. “My best wishes for you and your betrothed, Lady Katarina. You did not mention that to me before.” His eyes met hers, eyebrows arched.

“I did not see how that information would have aided you in your investigation, sir.”

“One never knows how information or lack thereof may affect inquiries,” he admonished her gently. “Your betrothal was known before you left the colonies?”

Kat hesitated then went on boldly. “No, it was a private agreement between the gentleman and myself as I did not know how swiftly I would return to Virginia. Now, considering the circumstances, I find I regard Virginia as a virtual haven. I have already written to inform him of my intent. My ship leaves on tomorrow’s evening tide.”

Again that shocked expression in Matthews’s eyes. What on earth did that mean?

“Then this will be goodbye, Lady Katarina.” He rose and took her offered hand, bending over it. “I will always be grateful to have met you, even under the unfortunate circumstances.”

“You have been most kind, Mr. Matthews.” She allowed her voice to warm a trifle. “I too wish it had been solely through our connection.”

He turned to leave and she caught his hand. He had been a good adversary, and oddly, a friend. She regretted lying to him. “You will send word if the kidnappers are found?”

He looked down at her hand on his and quietly withdrew it. “I will contact Lord Manning if there are further developments.” He sent her one more piercing look that made her gasp then he was gone.

“What the hell was that all about?” Jack now stood, his mouth puckered into a strained knot. “Damned insolent fellow, if you ask me. What was he playing at, do you suppose? I don’t know if I liked the way he looked at you just now.”

Kat turned on him, vexed. “There was nothing wrong with the way he looked at me, Jack. Mr. Matthews is a respectable man, a man any woman would be glad to...” She stopped, quite unable to continue.

“Oh, hell!” Exasperation and disdain conflicted in Jack’s expression. “Are you in love with a Bow Street Runner? Katarina! The man’s a commoner!”

“So were we less than a year ago, Jack!” she shot back, annoyed at his snobbery. “And no, I’m not in love with him, but...I like him. Mr. Matthews was kind to me when everything was so horrible. He is an honorable man and a relation and I won’t have you sneer at him.”

Jack glanced at the floor and shifted his weight from foot to foot. He ran a hand through his dark hair and raised thoughtful eyes to her. “If you like him, Kat, why don’t you stay? I suppose I could get used to the idea. He does seem a decent sort. And good at his job, I understand. If he became magistrate, he’d at least have an honorary title.”