by Sue Barr
In fact, their nervousness began when she recognized Lady Harriet. Deep in her gut, she knew something beyond her reasoning capabilities was going on between these two supposed friends, and it was not a lover’s tiff. Lord George had gone as still as a cat, waiting for its prey to make a wrong move, and the Countess had been quite flustered at her calling out to Lady Harriet although she’d carried on the rest of her visit with aplomb.
Not for one minute did Kitty buy her explanation the young girl was her companion, Miss Bledsoe. The scar which marred Lady Harriet’s top lip was distinctive in shape. She should know. She was there when Lady Harriet received it at the hand of her father, Viscount Stanhope.
“Kitty?”
A soft knock at the door accompanied Mary’s call.
“Come in, Mary.” She hurried to straighten her dress and with shaky hands, patted her hair in place.
Her elder sister opened the door, took one look at her red-rimmed eyes, sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped her in a hug. After a few minutes they parted and Mary tilted her head and gave her a warm, if quizzical look.
“I wondered what happened at the park today. Has Lord George told you he is withdrawing his attention?”
Fresh tears threatened to spurt and flow again. Kitty fought to keep them at bay as she answered.
“No, quite the opposite in fact.”
“Then why are you crying your eyes out?”
“I refused him.”
“You what?” Mary stood and stared at her, an incredulous look replacing the earlier affectionate one. “He is absolutely besotted with you and willing to overlook our low society.”
“I know, but I cannot marry him.” She fumbled for the linen handkerchief Lord George provided earlier in the day and dabbed at her eyes.
Mary sat back on the bed. “Does it have something to do with this burden you refuse to let go?”
Kitty longed to share that burden but couldn’t stand the thought of her sister thinking ill of her. Not after she’d tried so hard this year to behave in a more ladylike manner. Everyone had been disgusted by Lydia’s behavior with Wickham, what would they do if they knew her truth?
She rose to her feet and paced to the window. Her room overlooked the park across the street. Lizzy and Darcy had a lovely home in Mayfair and she once again felt such a surge of gratitude for her new brother. He loved her sister to distraction and in turn, showed favor to Lizzy’s silly family. All that would cease for her if she told her secret.
“Yes, in some way it does,” she finally answered Mary’s question. “But, he also has the reputation of being a dangerous libertine. I liked his friendship but cannot trust that his affection would remain true to me and me alone. My heart would break if we married and he broke our vows.”
She felt a pinch of regret at throwing most of the blame at Lord George’s feet. Yes, she’d heard rumors but, in all truthfulness, she didn’t give them much credit. His behavior had been of a true gentleman and there was an inherent honesty about him, something intangible. She couldn’t break his heart in order to pacify hers.
Mary sat in silence and Kitty rejoined her on the bed. After a few minutes, Mary clasped their hands together. When she bowed her head, Kitty followed suit.
“Heavenly Father, You alone know the obstacles Catherine faces. I pray You provide her with peace. The peace You promised that passes all understanding. Make straight her crooked path and continue to hold her in the palm of Your hand. Amen.”
Kitty murmured ‘amen’ with Mary and they sat in this attitude for a few more minutes.
“Thank you, Mary. Your prayer means so much to me.”
Mary cupped her face and held her gaze for what seemed like eternity.
“Catherine. Do not forget you can enter His court anytime in prayer. You do not need me to hold your hand anymore.”
With that she rose to her feet and with a reminder that dinner would be soon, exited.
Kitty twisted the handkerchief with her fingers and thought of his final words before they returned to Mary. I would present you with the sun and moon, if possible. Giving you a moment of peace is the least I could do. She’d known he liked her but never once thought he’d wish to court her so soon after their meeting again. However, he also said she’d been his silent companion since Lizzy’s wedding, which meant he’d held some sort of tendré for her these past six months.
She let out a soft whoosh of air as his words began to permeate her heart. Did he truly love her and this was not a passing fancy? Hope gave way to anguish. She couldn’t lead him on. Far better to break his heart now than later. She was reminded of Hill’s remedy whenever they’d had a bad cut and the dressing needed to be changed. Better to rip the binding off in one quick move than fold it back one painful inch at a time. She needed to rip the binding off his heart and let him dress it with something new and clean, which she was not.
With that she proceeded to wash her face and fix her hair before attending dinner. Her demeanor was calm and her lips held a smile, even though her heart continued to break. She would survive. She would continue on. She’d done this before, she could do it again.
***
She’d refused him. She’d refused him. Like a never-ending loop the thought continued to taunt him. He knew she cared for him. He’d been around enough women to know when a lady was receptive to his advances, and if the soft blushes and the dilation of her pupils whenever he came near were not enough of an indicator, the involuntary parting of her lips spoke of her attraction in ways words couldn’t. Then why had she refused him? Nothing made sense other than she had to have heard of his reputation. What else would keep her from accepting a courtship?
In a perverse way he was proud of the fact she’d stand strong on these principals. When he finally won her heart, he knew she’d be a faithful companion. All his life he’d looked for someone who would complement him the way his mother complemented his father. They had a marriage based on love, which was a rarity amongst the ton, and he wanted nothing less for himself.
Many nights, when their parents thought the boys were safe in their beds, he’d sneak down and watch them. It was not unusual to find their mother curled up against their father as they cuddled before a toasty fire speaking in low tones, or for them to dance to unheard music in the enormous ballroom.
He desired the same with Catherine and nothing would stand in his way. Unfortunately, he didn’t take into account the stubbornness of one Miss Catherine Bennet of Longbourn. For three weeks he’d left his card with no response. He visited Darcy, as per usual, but the ladies were always out doing their own social calls and when he accepted an invite to dinner at Darcy house, only Darcy and his wife greeted him at the door as Catherine and Miss Bennet had accepted their own invitation to dine at the Bingley’s.
This pattern repeated itself for another three weeks until Darcy and his family removed to Pemberley for Elizabeth’s confinement. Never before had he been so frustrated with no place to vent. His brother Maxwell finally cornered him in the library, nursing his third, fourth, maybe even fifth snifter of brandy. Mayhap it was his eighth.
“George, you must stop this destructive behavior. What has come over you?”
“Why?”
Max, framed in the door of the library, openly gaped at his belligerent response. He then proceeded into the room, plucked the snifter out of George’s hand and placed it on a table far from George’s reach.
“Never before have I seen you behave in such a deplorable manner, and as you have crafted a fine reputation these past few years, this is saying something. You prowl around the house growling at the servants, you were short with Mother the other night, and you attend White’s looking to start a fight with anyone who happens to glance your way.” Max placed his hands on his hips and glared down at him. “What do you have to say for yourself.”
The words of his elder brother rained down on him and he acknowledged everything Max said was true. The sad fact was, he wasn’t sorry for his behavior. For years the ton and h
is family labeled him as a rogue and because of that deplorable nomenclature, he’d lost the woman he loved. Why not embrace the persona he’d created and drown his sorrows? She’d refused him. She’d cut him out of her life in a most decisive manner.
“I say don’t glance my way if you think I am edging for a fight.”
“George,” Maxwell sighed out. “This is not you. I know everyone thinks you wild, but I am firm in my belief that you are not. I may have leaned that way until you told me, in no uncertain terms, you would stand before the Lord with a clean heart. You meant those words and I realized that for some reason known only to you, you were putting on a façade. Please tell me what has brought you so low.”
For the first time in years, George felt tears welling in his eyes. He hadn’t cried since he was a school boy, but Max’s words poked at his heart and brought his suffering to the top.
“She refused me.”
As soon as he said the words, which had been his constant companion for months, the floodgates burst and he wept openly. He didn’t even notice when Max sat beside him and placed strong arms around his shoulders, patiently waiting until the tears abated.
More than a little ashamed at his outburst, he removed himself from the couch and stood in front of the fireplace.
“Forgive my outburst,” he muttered, dragging the back of his hand across his eyes before turning to stare into the flames.
“No.”
Astonished, he looked back at Max.
“No?”
“No.” Max had the temerity to smile. “This is the first real emotion you have shown in a long, long time. Forgiveness from me is not required.”
“Thank you.”
“Do not thank me, little brother.” Max stood as well and came to stand across from him. “Am I to understand Miss Catherine Bennet refused you?”
Pain sliced through his heart once more.
“Yes. I asked for permission to court her and she denied me. Every attempt made to see her again and talk further was cut off. She is quite determined that I not press my suit further.”
“I had no idea your emotions were so engaged. I have been busy with estate business and a problematic tenant. Do you wish to fill me in on what’s been going on? My limited understanding was you only met Miss Bennet−”
“Miss Catherine.” George corrected automatically, savoring the flavor of her name on his tongue, painful though it was.
“You only met Miss Catherine,” Max said with an elegant arch of his eyebrow at George’s hasty correction, “last November at Darcy’s wedding, and for some reason you have yet to share, escorted her to London and saw her here at Kerr House when they came to dinner.”
“True, I first met her at Pemberley and was enamored with her from the very beginning. She was a breath of fresh air in a world of stale sameness. Although nervous at being in the company of elevated society, she did not fawn over who I was.”
“It also did not hurt that she is quite beautiful.”
“True, but that is not the only reason I sought her out. Whenever we conversed, she delighted me with her point of view. In some ways she is quite naïve and in others she sees the world for what it is. There are times when I am surprised with her assessment of a person’s character. She is almost always uncannily accurate.”
“All of this from so few encounters?”
George gave his brother a telling look. “Noooo….” He drew out with a longsuffering sigh. “I also escorted Miss Catherine and her sister several times shopping and enjoyed many pleasant walks in the park near their uncle’s home in Cheapside. There is no other explanation other than to say she fits me. When she is by my side, all is well.”
“I had no idea you were becoming so involved in this friendship. Are you sure there is no hope?”
“None. She has quit town and at this very moment is at Pemberley with her sister, Elizabeth.”
“Where you shall see her at Nathan’s wedding. You will have at least a week of activities in which to engage her in conversation.” Max’s tone became pensive. “Did Miss Catherine give you reason for her refusal?”
“Not in so many words. She thanked me for the honor and said she could not accept a courtship knowing she would refuse any offer of marriage. Naturally I assumed rumors of my reputation reached her ears and she sought to remove herself from my company.”
“Think hard on her words, George. She did not refuse you, per se. She said she would refuse any offer of marriage. This leads me to believe she would have refused even Prinny if he asked.”
George mulled over Max’s words which resonated in his heart. Why would Catherine refuse any offer of marriage? If he discovered the reason, there was hope she might reconsider. He slapped his brother on the shoulder and turned to leave the room.
“Where are you going,” a bewildered Max called out after him.
“I only have a month to prepare,” he called back.
“Prepare for what?” Max mused, but George didn’t hear him. He’d already taken the stairs, two at a time and called for Pratt to prepare his bath.
For the first time since her rejection, his heart soared. In a little over four weeks he’d be at Pemberley, and so would Catherine. With the precision of Wellington, he began to plot his campaign.
Chapter Fourteen
George paced the library, the only quiet room now that Pemberley was almost stuffed to the rafters with guests. Soon it would be impossible to find any peace. The sound of a carriage approaching drew him to the window. It wasn’t to see if Catherine had returned from visiting her sister Jane, he assured himself and experienced a pinch of disappointment when the door to the carriage opened and Lady Miranda Blake disembarked.
About to turn away and continue his pacing, he paused. Behind Lady Miranda was Evangeline. She accepted the hand of the footman and gave him a saucy wink, making the poor lad blush furiously, although, to give credit to the type of service Darcy expected, he never flinched or faltered in his duties.
What the deuce was she doing here? He exited the library and strode toward the front entrance. Sounds of laughter floated down the hall and when he turned the corner, Evangeline spotted him immediately.
“Lord George,” she said. “What a surprise. I had hoped to see you here.”
Lady Miranda laughed aloud. “My dear Countess. It is his brother who is marrying our dear friend, Caroline.”
Evangeline waved her hand in the air. “La, I know that, Miranda. I expected to see him at dinner. I am pleasantly surprised at his greeting us.”
George watched the exchange between Lady Miranda and Evangeline. How in the world had Evangeline finagled an invitation to Nathan’s wedding? Through the still open door he spotted Miss Bledsoe, or rather, Lady Harriet directing the footmen to Evangeline’s trunks. His perusal was interrupted by Evangeline gliding into his line of vision. He still hadn’t shared with her that he was very aware of who Miss Bledsoe truly was, and she hadn’t shared any details from her end, either.
They were, as his chess master would say, at a bit of a stalemate.
“Lady Miranda and I wish to wash off the dust from our travels. Would you join us for an aperitif in about fifteen minutes Lord George? I demand to know what you have been up to these past few months, and of course, I will gladly share any news worth gossiping about.”
Although her tone was light and teasing, George did not miss the pointed look she flashed in his direction.
“Count me out, Evangeline,” Lady Miranda said with a smile. “I have been looking forward to a non-moving rest before we dine. You will have to make do without me.”
“I will see you in the drawing room, Lady Cavendish.” George gave her a polite bow and walked back to the library. He passed Mr. Darcy, followed by Mrs. Reynolds who was hurrying to greet the guests and show them to their rooms.
Something was terribly wrong and he’d play along with whatever scheme Evangeline had in mind. However, knowing that she’d hid from him the true identity of Lady Harrie
t, he’d proceed with caution. The implicit trust he’d held for her, forged by their mutual experiences in France as they’d evaded Napoleon’s men in their bid for freedom back to England, had been damaged. He knew she had a duplicitous nature, but then so did he. It was a prerequisite in order to be a successful spy.
He glanced at the clock and made his way to the drawing room, desirous of being there before she arrived. He’d watch every move she made. Listen to every nuance in her voice, perceive the shifting of her eyes. In his observations of many people, he’d noted that when they recalled something which was a true memory, they’d look to their right. If the memory or story was a lie, they’d look to their left. He wasn’t sure why, but this small foible saved him more than once when dealing with a deceitful enemy. He prayed she didn’t fall into the latter category.
His wait was not long and Evangeline breezed into the room, looking as though she’d just stepped out of a garden party rather than an arduous carriage ride of four hours.
“Lord George!” She moved toward him, her hands outstretched in greeting. It was only when the parlor doors closed behind her that she dropped her hands and sat on the couch. With a graceful incline of her head, she said, “Will you not join me?”
He lowered his tension filled body onto the chair across from the couch and waited. Silence reigned for only a few minutes before she shook her head slowly.
“We are at an impasse. I know you do not trust me, now that you know who Miss Bledsoe truly is.” She lifted her hand to stop him from speaking. “No, say nothing. I knew the minute Miss Catherine recognized her you would begin to dig like an impatient terrier.”
“You knew all the time who Reggie was, didn’t you?”
“Not at first. I knew his recognizing Miss Bledsoe somehow posed a threat to her safety. If you remember, Reggie said, ‘you made him very angry by running away’, and Stanhope’s the only one who has been actively searching for her. I could not take the chance of him discovering her whereabouts. I do not regret my actions.”
“How do you know Stanhope wasn’t using her as a conduit, as a double agent?”
