She was smiling up at Lord Thornton, and the fact that he seemed to be amusing her soured his already dark mood.
“Your sister is no doubt wondering if you’ve gotten lost on the way to your seat.”
“I’d be more than happy to escort you to Overlea’s box,” Thornton said, not bothering to hide his enthusiasm.
Kerrick was grinding his teeth together to stop from telling the man what he thought of his suggestion when Catherine turned to Thornton and smiled in apology. “They have already entrusted Lord Kerrick with the task,” she said, taking the arm Kerrick offered.
Kerrick merely nodded to Rose and the men as he led Catherine away. They hadn’t gone far when he said, “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.” His words came out sharper than he’d intended. If Catherine noticed his annoyance, she didn’t show it.
“It was a little uncomfortable at first. I’m not used to being the center of attention. Back home there were very few young men my age, and what few there were certainly weren’t interested in associating with a family that lived next to poverty. I’m just glad Rose was with me.”
Normally he would have made some lighthearted, but nonetheless true, statement about what fools those boys had been. The fact that he didn’t do so now went a long way toward showing just how annoyed Kerrick was by the way Catherine had seemed to revel in all the attention bestowed on her.
“You’ll excuse me if I fail to thank her.”
She looked up at him then, startled by his tone. “Is something the matter?”
He shook his head, annoyed at himself for what could only be seen as a gross overreaction on his part.
“You’re angry.”
Leave it to Catherine not to let the matter drop. “It is nothing.”
A look of amazement lit her face. “It works,” she breathed in wonder.
Her expression threw him completely off balance. It reminded him so much of how she looked just before she came. He had to clear his throat before he could ask, “What works?”
“Her Grace… the Duchess of Clarington said that the best way to capture a man’s attention was to show interest in another man. Or several other men.”
He glared down at her. “Is that what you were doing? Trying to rouse my jealousy?” Never mind that it had worked.
She shook her head in denial. “Of course not. I have no reason to, do I? Not after last night.”
“Catherine…,” he said, voice low and sharp as he glanced around furtively to make sure no one had overheard.
She waved her hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry. No one is near enough to hear.”
She was going to be the death of him. Thankfully she said nothing further on the subject. They had reached the top of the stairs and started down the hallway outside the private boxes and there were people milling about.
He stopped short and had to pull Catherine to the side when someone almost ran into them. It took him a moment to realize it was Worthington. The older man seemed agitated and barely acknowledged them as he continued past. A prickle of unease settled at the base of his skull and he turned in time to see another figure moving away quickly at the far end of the hall. He was too far away and Kerrick couldn’t make out who it was. He could only see that it was a man with short brown hair and who seemed to be about his height. It could have been anyone. He considered following, but the man had melded into a group of theatergoers. Following him would only draw unwanted attention, and Kerrick couldn’t be certain he’d be able to pinpoint him in the crowd.
“That was unusual,” Catherine said, drawing Kerrick’s thoughts back to her. “Lord Worthington never misses an opportunity to speak to you. I wonder what could have had him so preoccupied.”
What, indeed. Damn. Perhaps Brantford’s information was correct after all and Worthington had involved himself in something for which he was quite ill suited.
“He was probably anxious about not missing the beginning of the play.” As if to underscore his words, the bells signaling that all guests should now be seated began to chime. “Come,” he said, hoping to distract Catherine from the other man’s curious behavior. “We should hurry before another search party is dispatched to find you.”
ooOoo
Kerrick had too many things on his mind to pay attention to the play. Something or someone—the man he’d seen disappearing down the hallway?—had set Worthington on edge. He had only his instincts on which to base that suspicion, but he’d long since learned to ignore them at his own peril.
And then there was Catherine. She sat next to him and he longed to reach out to her. At the very least, he felt an almost overwhelming need to take one of her hands, which were clasped demurely on her lap, into his and just hold on to her. Assure himself that what had happened the night before had actually taken place and that the connection between them was real. But Louisa sat on the other side of Catherine, and there was no way she wouldn’t see if he acted on his impulse. And so he sat there, trying to ignore both the urge to touch her and the scent of her that seemed to weave its way down to his very soul.
His frustration only mounted when Lord Thornton visited their box during the intermission. The frank appraisal on the other man’s face when he noticed Catherine’s low décolletage made him want to knock the boy’s teeth into the back of his throat. Instead, he excused himself and made his way to Worthington’s box.
As he’d expected, it was so filled with men vying for Rose’s attention that he barely had room to get inside. Upon seeing him, though, especially in the foul mood that had overtaken him, they stepped to the side to allow him passage.
He placed a light kiss on the back of Rose’s gloved hand when she offered it to him, wondering briefly at the amusement in her eyes, and asked her if she was enjoying the performance.
“I always enjoy a good comedy, Lord Kerrick,” she said, her manner telling him that she was referring to more than just the one taking place onstage.
“Touché, Miss Hardwick,” he said, allowing his own amusement to show.
She inclined her head in acknowledgment of the compliment.
Damn, but Catherine was right. If he weren’t forced to act the role of a man intent on making her his wife, he would actually like Rose Hardwick. Well, he didn’t precisely dislike her now, but he wasn’t altogether comfortable in her presence given the part he was playing.
Rose’s attention was immediately captured by another young man when Kerrick turned to greet her parents.
“Lady Worthington, Lord Worthington,” he said, taking a seat next to them. He couldn’t help but notice how pale Lady Worthington looked, and he recalled Rose saying her mother was feeling unwell. The woman seated beside him now looked like she was suffering from more than just a headache. “I heard you weren’t feeling quite yourself, Lady Worthington.”
The smile she offered him was a pale imitation of her normally effusive one. “It is nothing that a good night’s rest won’t cure.”
“And a few hours away from the constant crush, no doubt.” There was no point in denying the crowds that surrounded the Worthingtons’ daughter everywhere she went.
Lady Worthington shrugged, the small movement saying more effectively than words that she was used to it. No doubt she’d gone through the same when she was younger. Kerrick guessed she was only in her forties now, and she was still a striking woman. He wasn’t sure how Worthington had managed to capture her as his wife, not if she’d been even half as popular as her daughter.
“I was thinking,” he said, turning his attention now to her husband, “that we haven’t yet had the opportunity to get to know one another very well. We should remedy that.”
The carrot dangled, Worthington reached for it like a starving man. “That’s a capital idea,” he said, his chest puffing out as he contemplated the significance behind Kerrick’s offer. He didn’t come out and say it, but it was clear Worthington already thought of him as his all-but-in-name son-in-law. “I like to go riding early in the morning. A habit I picked
up during my youth that I still enjoy today. I don’t suppose you’d care to join me? I know you young men nowadays like to stay up all night gambling and whatnot and only return home as I’m heading out.”
It was an obvious test of his character, and Kerrick smiled smoothly as he assumed the role of the perfect man for Rose Hardwick. “I’m not one for gambling,” he said. “Not unless I know I can win. And I admit I haven’t had as much opportunity to go riding as I’d like since I arrived in town.”
“Splendid,” Worthington said. If his wife hadn’t been seated between them, Kerrick knew the man would have clapped him on the back. “Shall we say seven a.m. at Rotten Row? It should be quiet at that hour.”
“I look forward to it,” Kerrick said before rising and taking his leave.
When he returned to the Overlea box, Thornton was gone. The expression in Catherine’s eyes when she met his was one of amusement, and in their depths he could all but see her assurance that he was the only one she saw as a romantic partner. He was glad she didn’t view Thornton in that way, but that didn’t make him dislike the man any less.
His mind more at ease now that he’d make plans to get closer to Worthington, Kerrick was able to enjoy the rest of the play. He’d read The Taming of the Shrew while at school but had never seen it performed. The thought had originally occurred to him that it would be nice to tame Catherine’s impetuousness, but as he watched he found himself disturbed by the way Petruchio went about taming his shrewish wife. He couldn’t help thinking that she hadn’t been tamed—she’d been broken. Catherine might try his patience, but the very last thing he’d want was to see her spirit destroyed in the same way.
When the curtain lowered at the end of the fifth act, they remained in their box to avoid the crush of bodies moving to leave the theater at once. A few men came to their box to chat with Nicholas. Kerrick didn’t miss the way his friend dragged his wife closer to his side as speculation entered the eyes of one man, well-known for his dalliances with married women of the ton, who was meeting the new Marchioness of Overlea for the first time.
Nicholas and Louisa’s preoccupation gave him the opportunity to have a few moments alone with Catherine as they moved to the other side of the box.
“Should I come by later tonight?” Her voice was pitched low so no one would overhear them.
Kerrick had to close his eyes for a moment as he struggled against the tide of lust that surged through him at the suggestion. When he opened them again, the eagerness in Catherine’s eyes told him that she was in earnest. She’d actually risk her reputation and her safety to visit him again if he allowed it.
“Do that and I’ll have to turn you over my knee,” he said. That thought did nothing to help curb his desire as an image of Catherine, bared from the waist down and spread over his thighs, came to mind. The reproof, however, had Catherine pouting in disappointment.
“When?” she asked, clearly not content to let the matter drop.
“When this is all over.”
Catherine’s eyes moved to look over his shoulder, and he turned to find Nicholas had come up behind them. He had a moment of panic, afraid his friend had overhead the entire conversation, but his next words put that concern to rest.
“When what is all over?” he asked.
“The season,” Kerrick said since he clearly couldn’t have been talking about the play that had already ended. “Catherine was just asking me if I planned to visit Overlea Manor again. Of course, that would also depend on whether I’d still be welcome there.”
Nicholas’s gaze shifted to Catherine, then back to him.
“I suppose that would depend on how the rest of the spring goes. And on whether hearts are still intact.”
Nicholas didn’t have to say the words, but Kerrick heard the warning as clearly as if his friend had spoken. Stop toying with Catherine’s obvious affection for you. He would like nothing better than to assure his friend that he wasn’t toying with Catherine, and once again cursed the fact he wasn’t in a position to do so.
Chapter Nine
Kerrick had high hopes for his meeting with Worthington, but it wouldn’t do to appear overeager, so he made sure to arrive exactly at the appointed hour the next morning. He noted with satisfaction that the other man was already waiting when he turned his mount on to the fashionable path in Hyde Park. At this early hour, though, the park was frequented mainly by grooms exercising the mounts of the aristocracy.
Worthington visibly puffed up when he caught sight of Kerrick. “It is an excellent morning to ride,” he said by way of greeting when Kerrick’s mount drew abreast.
And it was. The sun had chosen to make one of its rare appearances, setting the tone for what promised to be a pleasant day.
The horses trotted side by side for several minutes, the men saying very little, before Worthington turned the conversation to the subject that Kerrick knew was uppermost in his thoughts.
“I appreciate you doing me this courtesy.” Worthington leaned toward him and lowered his voice before continuing. “Between the two of us, you must know that asking my permission to propose to Rose is only a formality. You will be so much better for her than those other boys who seek out her attention.” The relief that accompanied those words was almost palpable.
Kerrick couldn’t prevent the cynical thought that it was likely his own fortune that Worthington had his eye on. He inclined his head in acknowledgment of the compliment before going about his task of throwing the other man off guard. “I am not here to ask for permission to propose to your daughter.”
Worthington tensed at his statement. He started to speak twice and had to stop before finally managing, “But you do intend to marry her? Everyone expects it, and to slight her would cause gossip. And we both know it is the dearest wish of your mother and Lady Worthington.”
Kerrick gritted his teeth against the rejoinder that everyone expected such a union only because Worthington was dropping hints in every ballroom and at every social event in London.
“I have no intention of causing your daughter any distress.” His words were true because he was beginning to suspect that Rose Hardwick did not desire a union between them any more than he did. “You can rest assured that no negative gossip will arise from my actions toward Miss Hardwick. Watching her, however, it is very clear to me that she is enjoying her season very much. I wouldn’t wish to take away from that enjoyment by declaring my intentions prematurely.”
“A formal betrothal wouldn’t end her enjoyment.”
“Perhaps not, but I do have a confession to make.”
The expression on the other man’s face was a comical mixture of fear and hope, and Kerrick had to work to keep the corners of his mouth from lifting in amusement.
“I’ve never been fond of the social whirl.”
He could hear the breath of relief that Worthington released at his statement.
“No man your age really is,” Worthington rushed to say. “You’re not yet thirty years of age, and I’m sure there are many more enjoyable ways you’d prefer to spend your evenings. I was a fan of gaming myself. But alas, once you have been married a few years…” He shrugged. “It’s worse when you have a daughter. No way to stay away from all the events. But now and again you’ll be able to drag yourself away and pursue your own interests. And fortunately no one expects a married man to dance attendance on his wife during all those balls.”
Worthington must have realized he was babbling, for his mouth closed with an almost audible snap after his last pronouncement.
Kerrick couldn’t help thinking about Nicholas and Clarington, who both seemed to enjoy staying at their wives’ sides. Granted, they’d both been married less than a year, but Kerrick didn’t see their behavior changing anytime soon. His thoughts went to Catherine and he knew he would never be content to sit in a card room while his wife danced with men whom he knew preyed upon the women who were feeling neglected by their spouses.
Ruthlessly he dragged his thoughts back t
o the present. He couldn’t afford to allow himself to get distracted. If he didn’t wind up this inquiry soon, he could end up finding himself a guest at Catherine’s wedding to Viscount Thornton.
“I bow to your superior knowledge on the subject,” Kerrick said, watching as the other man preened visibly at the compliment. With a speed meant to throw the other man off balance, he changed the subject. “I didn’t have the chance last night to ask who you were speaking to outside your box before the play began. You seemed overset by the meeting.”
The color drained from Worthington’s face and Kerrick felt a measure of satisfaction come to life within his chest. Brantford had been correct—Worthington was involved in something deep. But the question still remained as to whether it was also treasonous.
Worthington turned away and Kerrick could see he was struggling to regain his composure. His voice was tight when he replied.
“We always have so many visitors at these things when Rose is present… I can’t recall one man in particular.”
“Miss Hardwick wasn’t yet upstairs at the time.”
Worthington struggled for a few seconds before saying, “I do recall now what you mean. My wife had the headache. Before the play started I sought out a footman and asked him to bring a glass of water to the box.”
Worthington was lying. The man he and Catherine had seen leaving the previous evening was no footman. He longed to press the issue, but experience told him that nothing would be gained by pushing for information when a lighter hand would gain more results in the end. He had the confirmation he needed that Worthington was involved in something he didn’t want anyone else discovering.
He wondered if the man’s wife knew about it and his mind started churning with how he could pursue that line of inquiry. At the back of his mind, the thought surfaced that Catherine’s new friendship with Rose placed her in the perfect position to make discreet inquiries of Rose’s mother, but he refused to give that possibility any serious consideration. The very last thing he wanted was Catherine involved further in this mess. She’d placed herself there, but he would do whatever he could to make sure she didn’t take any risks. Lord and Lady Worthington were not the dangerous sort, but he knew from other missions that desperate people would often act out of character to protect themselves. And if the safety of their family was involved… No, he definitely wouldn’t ask Catherine to involve herself in this.
Beguiling the Earl Page 9
