The Romany Heiress (12 page)

Cate fought back a smile. He was getting worked up
now. “I didn’t mean for you to find out” She said in defense of her actions.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Do you think it was only a
bad idea because I found out? That it would have been
a good idea if I hadn’t known? That’s rather poor
ethics. It shouldn’t have been done at all. Any type of
harm could have befallen you.”

He had been concerned for her. The thought sent a
warm sensation through her. In spite of the circumstances, he’d been concerned for her well-being. It was
the second time he’d shown such concern that day, the
first being his thoughtfulness over her need for clothing.

Cate tried to reciprocate. “I didn’t do it to provoke
you,” she uttered softly. “I did it to provoke her. She was
entirely out of line and needed to be put in her place.”

Giles leaned on the balustrade and harrumphed.
“Normally, I’d agree but I’d rather not have her as an
enemy when the winter season starts and parliament’s
in session.”

“Perhaps you should have persuaded her to stay then.
She could be a powerful ally to help you obliterate my
claim.” Cate saw with the astute clarity she reserved for
fortunetelling what it had cost Giles to give the woman
up, distasteful as she was.

“Oh, yes. She’s an ambitious woman. Her political
aspirations were stifled after the death of her first husband. It seemed she thought I’d be perfect for molding
into the next prime minister. I suppose that avenue’s
closed to me now” He gave a self-deprecating snort to indicate how little he cared for that loss. “Still, I feel
compelled to warn you, if she gets scent of your claim to
legitimacy, or discovers I don’t have any fourth cousins
on my mother’s side, she’ll annihilate you”

“Why would you warn me? Wouldn’t you want that?”
Cate asked, turning to look at Giles’s profile, strong and
leonine in the spill of light coming from the drawing
room.

“It’s not honorable to feed the unsuspecting to the
wolves,” he replied without equivocation.

“Even if the unsuspecting person in question lays
claim to your domain?” Cate whispered, hardly daring
to breath.

“Even if,” Giles said solemnly. “Ethics and honor
don’t mean much if they are applied haphazardly simply to gain one’s benefit”

Cate thought there might be a message hidden in the
statement just for her. But she could not quite decipher
it any more than she could decipher the darkening
depths of his eyes. There was a sadness mirrored in
them that she did not comprehend.

He lifted a hand and gently stroked her cheek, a
half-smile playing at his mouth. “You’re an interesting woman, Cate. I would have liked to have known
you,” Giles paused for a moment and then added softly,
“without.”

Without.

The word quivered in the air between them, burgeoning with untold meaning. She knew what he meantwithout the complexities of the situation surrounding them. But what did it mean? Did it mean that he liked
her? That she could have had Spelthome and him without attacking his heritage? She searched his eyes for
confirmation of his thoughts but the vulnerable moment
had passed. He was all business again.

“You will attend the ball tomorrow night. I am certain Isabella will have something suitable for you to
borrow. It is, after all, only a country ball and gowns
don’t have to be as elaborate as in town. Sleep well.”
He bowed briskly and took himself back into the drawing room where the tea was finished and the guests
were preparing to retire to their rooms.

Cate stayed on the verandah, enjoying the opportunity to watch him from a distance. She had never met a
man of his ilk before, so committed to his sense of right
and wrong that he would not be tempted to stray from
his code, even when his very identity was on the line.
She had glimpsed a part of who he was beyond the
handsome facade and found the core of him as attractive as the outer layers he showed to the world.

She replayed the conversation in her mind, savoring
the insights, the kind words, the touch of his hand on
her cheek. She could hear the sound of his voice just as
surely as if he stood there saying the words she treasured, “I wish I could have known you. Without.”

“Rubbish!” Magda declared firmly, helping Cate out
of her dinner gown while Cate relayed the events of the
evening. “That’s what he wants you to think. He’s trying to soften you up, talk you into dropping your claims.”
She shook her head. “Men will promise a woman anything and when they have what they want, they’ll take
back their word”

Cate turned from the long mirror to face Magda.
“Other men, maybe. Not Giles. He’s different.” The intensity of her defense startled even her.

Magda threw up her hands. “It’s been one day and
already he’s charmed you. He’s no different than his father, I tell you. Celeste was swept off her feet during the
courtship and then dumped here in the country, forgotten entirely. You should know better. You’ve read the diary. Like father like son,” she warned.

“But he’s not his father’s son, literally.” Cate
shrugged into a satin wrapper and belted it at the waist.
Magda’s warning left her deflated. She crossed the
room to the window seat where she’d spent the previous
night. She knew herself to be a shrewd woman who understood human nature. She’d seen enough of the good
and the bad through her years of telling fortunes. She
could indeed read people like books, usually without error. Had she been so wrong about Giles?

“There, there, my sweetling,” Magda perched on the
edge of the bed, her tone not as condemning. “I know
you don’t want to believe me. Don’t take my word for
it. Test your thoughts. Tell me everything that happened
when you left for the fair this morning.”

Cate brightened at the prospect and shifted around in
the window seat to get comfortable. “Giles took me up in the curricle next to him so we could talk about our strategy, about our mutual need for discretion. I took it as a
good sign. He was not going to dismiss me out of hand.
We would explore the possibilities of my claim together.

“He made sure I could avoid the company of that odious FoxHaughton woman by seeing me attached to
Lady Isabella and Lady Cecile. After lunch we all went
shopping together, and he bought me a cake of French
milled soap. He squired me about all afternoon” She
paused, leaving out the bit about the races. “I am certain
we would have driven back in the curricle together if
Lady FoxHaughton hadn’t come down with a headache.
He treated me as if I were one of them, as if I belonged
in their circles. Not once did he imply I was less than
worthy of their company. We mustn’t forget all his kindnesses this morning with the gowns” Cate finished her
recitation of Giles’s good deeds, feeling confident that
Magda would have to secede some of her harsh position.

Magda fiddled with the pale-blue counterpane, tracing its patterns with a finger. “Have you thought why a
gentleman would go to such lengths for a stranger? For
a woman he does not know and who is not of his class?
More to the point, why would a gentleman do such
things for a woman who has the means to depose him
from his life of luxury?”

Cate looked squarely at Magda. “Because he is a good
man.”

Magda snorted. “You’re half right. He’s a man. Can
you not think of another reason? One that has more
logic?”

“No, I cannot, but I am sure you can. What do you
think?” Cate said testily from the window seat. Magda’s
pragmatism was becoming difficult to stomach, but she’d
been right about much in Cate’s life and she was the only
mother figure Cate had known. Difficult or not, it was
hard to turn away from Magda’s counsel.

“He wanted to show you a slice of his life and how
ill-equipped you are to assume a place in such circles.”
Magda held up her fingers. “First, the gowns. He sent
enough of them to impress you with their fine tailoring
and to swamp you with choices he knew you couldn’t
make between a carriage gown or a walking dress. The
clothes were meant to intimidate you. Second, he imposed on you a new name and a false identity because
he is embarrassed by your presence, not because he
wants to assimilate you into the house party. Third, he
kept you to himself because he doesn’t want you out his
sight. You’re too dangerous left on the loose. Fourth, he
bought you an effortless gewgaw-your precious soap
and ribbons-to show you how much you lacked. You
could not even afford one of those items on a whim.
Are you charmed now with your handsome prince?
Should I go on to examine the motives behind his facile
words on the verandah this evening?”

Cate swallowed hard. Magda’s logic seemed far
more reasonable than her own quickly paling assumptions. She had no proof to counter Magda’s claims beyond her intuition. Deep down in her heart, she knew
Giles was not as manipulative as Magda suspected.
Protective of his domain? Yes. Willing to fight her for it? Most definitely. But he would not fight unfairly.
There was nothing to tell Magda. So she drew her knees
up and wrapped her arms about them and enjoyed the
pastoral night view from her window.

After a length of silence, she heard Magda rise from
the bed and putter about the room, picking up clothes
and tidying. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings,” she
muttered.

Cate sighed, balancing her chin on her knees. “I know”

“Where do we go from here?” Magda asked, after
another long pause.

Cate was surprised by the question. Up until now,
Magda had planned everything, from when they
launched their campaign to how they would gain a
foothold in the house. Of course Cate herself had had to
execute the plans.

Now, Cate realized, Magda didn’t have the information she had. Magda wasn’t privy to the details about
the curate.

“We stay. He’s sent for the curate. It will take a bit,
maybe a month, for the curate to travel down. His parish
is up in the north, outside of York. Then we shall see
what is necessary to secure our claim.”

That news seemed to please Magda. “A month of
soft living. Good beds, hot food. It’s a start”

Cate seized the moment. She was going to be in
charge here. She needed to assert herself, something she
didn’t hesitate to do except with Magda. It was time to
change that. “Yes, we have a month of good living
ahead of us. I intend to use it to full advantage and enjoy the opportunities available, starting tomorrow. I’m going to the ball as Lady Cate Winthrop, and I’m going
to have a good time,” she said firmly. “Moreover, I am
going to extend to Giles the courtesy he has extended to
me and behave civilly in his company. I hope that by doing so he’ll see my claim to Spelthorne as something
other than an act of revenge or anger at being cheated
out of a birthright.”

Magda paused in the doorway to the dressing room.
“Very well, have your fantasy of playing lady of the
manor but don’t forget who you are and what you’re
about when the time comes for the fantasy to be over.
Spelthorne has bought himself some time by deciding to
send for the curate. This gives him a month to gather his
resources and to plot. You must remember that always.”

“He’s not the only one who’s been bought time. We
have too. We need that time just as desperately”

Alone in his study, Giles idly flipped through a calendar. He had one month to uncover additional support
regarding his heritage. The curate-cum-vicar would be
a source of evidence when he arrived but Giles wanted
more.

Tristan and Alain had offered to stay up with him
and talk but he’d declined, preferring solitude to assess
his thoughts-thoughts which were filled with intriguing images of the day just spent. To be sure, the day had
been fraught with a certain tension. He’d had to make
Cate’s masquerade believable while mitigating Candice’s inquiries and sharp tongue.

Surprisingly, there had also been pleasure in the day.
There had been the moment when he’d spied Cate on
the landing coming down to join the throng that morning. He’d been captivated by the sight of her for long moments before he recalled who she was and reminded
himself why she was there. She’d looked elegant and
composed in the borrowed muslin and her hair twisted up
underneath her hat. She’d looked as if she belonged
among them.

There had been the gaiety of shopping through the
booths and a glimpse of Cate’s steely backbone. Remembering how she’d claimed a place at his side,
undaunted by Candice’s possessiveness still brought a
smile to his face. He could feel it spreading across his
mouth, and he chuckled to himself. It had been an easy
thing to spend money on her at the fair. The unfettered
delight and surprise at receiving the soap and ribbons
had thrilled him.

He’d bought Candice a ruby bracelet once, and she’d
politely thanked him with no more genuine warmth
than if he’d brought her a posy of violets. He would wager Cate would have been just as thrilled with violets as
she had been with soap.

Wagering conjured up the last image of the fair. He
had scolded her on the terrace for her rash actions but if
the situation between them had been more amicable, he
doubted he would have cared beyond concern for her
safety. In truth, he had little concern there. She’d shown
herself to be nearly nonpareil as a rider. She’d easily
keep up with him and his horse-mad friends.

He’d almost thought he was mistaken about the race
when he saw her again at dinner. It was hard to reconcile the serene, neatly coiffed woman seated at supper
in a pale-blue gown of eau de nil silk with the reckless
hoyden from the track.

He had to remind himself that looks didn’t make a
lady. There was more to it than looking pretty in fancy
gowns, but he had to admit she had the bearing for it.
So far she’d pulled off her part of the masquerade quite
successfully, as long as one didn’t talk to her too long
and realize her conversation was not all it should be.
He’d noticed today, she was a quick study. By midafternoon, she’d picked up on one of Isabella’s favorite
expressions, “La” He’d been neatly surprised to hear
her use it when dealing with Candice.