Simpson left the room for a moment, and Catherine took the opportunity to strap her knife to her leg. As she looked at the malachite handle against her smooth skin, she pictured Daniel’s hands strapping it to her thigh that day on the train. At least there was passion between them.
Catherine tried to push down the niggling anxiety that continued to torment her, reassuring herself that all would be well. Perhaps Daniel would come to love her, but if he did, it would have to be for her true self, not for the mask she presented to the world. He had a mask of his own, one that he’d been wearing for years. He’d let it slip a couple of nights ago and had given her a glimpse of the boy he’d been. No wonder he craved acceptance after being rejected by his own father for so many years.
No more disguises. No more lies— at least, not within their marriage. She took a tremulous breath. He had known her secret when he’d asked for her hand, and he promised she could continue to fence. She planned to hold him to that promise.
Could she trust him? Wasn’t that doubt the real source of her anxiety? She’d been hiding for so long, from her mother and so many others, that trusting someone to accept her for herself took a tremendous act of faith.
She needed to trust Daniel, with both her heart and her future.
46 - In the Choir Loft
Stansbury didn’t need to follow them. He knew exactly where to find Huntley and Lady Catherine at half past ten that morning.
The day was crisp and clear, with the smell of spring in the air, and he arrived at the chapel early, as planned. He climbed up the narrow stairs to the choir loft. Of course, he’d received no formal invitation, despite the fact that the wedding would never have been planned at all if not for him.
He sat silently at the rear of the choir loft, remaining hidden from the guests seated below. As he watched them stream into the large, open chapel, he rocked slowly back and forth, humming to himself. A handful of the guests were joyful supporters of the union, but most were sanctimonious sots, eager to sniff out a scandal and curious about the wedding’s haste.
If anyone deserved to be an invited guest, he did. After all, he was the catalyst. Lady Catherine’s catalyst, he thought, continuing to sway side to side. Lady Cat’s catalyst. Her cat. Lady Cat’s cat. He smiled, playing with the words.
But he didn’t want the role of catalyst, he remembered, frowning. Still, it was all he had left. He shifted his weight forward on the pew, searching for a more comfortable position for his backside.
Everything had gone from bad to worse when the ship from India had docked. He had expressly told each of his four partners that he would manage the unloading of the cargo, but two of them had shown up at the dock. It hadn’t taken them long to figure out that they had each invested in the same venture with Stansbury as his “sole” partner.
They were furious.
He’d barely escaped his warehouse before the authorities arrived. His two other investors had learned about the ruse more quickly than he’d hoped. Now he couldn’t even return home for fear of being arrested. He’d slept in that warehouse last night. That empty warehouse.
Huntley must have played a part in his downfall. Perhaps he’d tipped off the four investors. Yes, that must be it.
Stansbury had tried, but he hadn’t been able to spring his trap before the wedding. Huntley had become wilier. He seemed to have realized he was being followed, and Stansbury kept losing him.
He should be the one down there marrying Lady Catherine, not that undeserving bastard with the Midas touch. Stansbury’s mouth twitched at the injustice of it. Huntley didn’t deserve his Cat.
He leaned forward as Huntley approached the altar. The marquess stood toward the right side of the raised area, watching the main aisle as guests continued to file in. His friend, Lord Wentworth, stood with him, and the two men chatted.
Contemptible bastards, both of them.
Lady Kensington was escorted in by an usher and was seated at the front, on the left side of the aisle. The front row on Huntley’s side was empty. Ha. Stansbury felt a seething satisfaction at discovering his rival was so alone in the world.
Alone. The man deserved to be alone.
But from now on, he’d no longer be alone. He’d have Catherine.
My Catherine.
A minister approached the altar. That must have been the cue for the music to begin, because the organist began to play. As the music swelled, all of the guests stood and turned to look back toward the entrance, and from his seat at the back of the balcony, Stansbury had to wait until Catherine had nearly reached the altar before he had a clear view of her.
Charles escorted her down the aisle. Lord Kensington must not have returned in time for the wedding. Pity, he thought distractedly. A girl’s father really should give her away.
Sunlight streamed in through the stained-glass window above the altar, and the bits of colored glass broke it into a million pieces, scattering the floor with a kaleidoscope of colors. Cat moved to join Huntley, and when she stepped onto the carpet of light, the colors fell upon her pristine white dress as she turned to look at him, bathing her in the riotous display. At that moment, Stansbury had his first glimpse of her face. The tender expression he saw hit him in the stomach like a fist, nearly doubling him over in pain.
She loves him? How could she love him? She was supposed to love me!
The multicolored shards of light that fell upon the couple made it appear that Catherine was clothed with pieces of a shimmering rainbow. Something within Stansbury broke into similar fragments as he listened to her speak the words that bound her to the man with the Midas touch.
Fissures of hatred ripped through him, their heat searing away tender feelings he might have still harbored for the girl. An eruption of anger burst forth from him, and he was barely able to stop himself from howling his fury.
She didn’t deserve to be happy, and neither did Huntley. They’d already taken too much from him, and he burned to take everything away from them as well. This was wrong. They were wrong.
Stansbury caught the scent of burning candles.
This marriage wasn’t blessed. The flames of light licking at her dress must be the devil’s work as Satan marked her as his own.
Who were they to look so satisfied with themselves? Didn’t they realize all of this could be gone in an instant?
How dare she push him away and chose Huntley after leading him on for two years? She was an aberration, with her twisted combination of mannish interests and seductive glances. She wore clothing designed to entice and ensnare, and then feigned embarrassment when a man dared show his interest.
He knew just how to bring her down— how to bring them both down. A slow grin slid across his face. He’d been following them long enough now to know all their routines and many of their plans.
He’d destroy them using their own secrets.
47 - Wedding Gifts
Catherine was barely aware of the ceremony. At one instant, she was nervously awaiting the moment when she would walk down the aisle, and the next, she was standing next to her husband, signing the church register. Her vows were a blur. All she could recall were her cold hands, the contentment she felt as she stared into Daniel’s eyes, and the warmth of his touch when he slid the gold ring onto her finger.
When they arrived at Kensington House for their wedding breakfast, it was full of guests and conversation. She and Daniel greeted each guest individually as they passed through the receiving line. Most people simply offered their best wishes and moved on, but a few friends lingered a moment to chat.
Lord Wentworth was one such friend. She’d been smiling and making small talk with acquaintances all morning, so it was good to see a more familiar face, even if it was Wentworth’s. She knew she should do her best to warm to the man since he was Daniel’s oldest and dearest friend, but it wasn't easy. Today, she was determined to put forth a stronger effort.
She watched as he shook hands with Daniel. When he turned to her, she was surprised b
y the warmth of his greeting.
“Lady Huntley. I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am to address you as such. I feel as though you’re my sister now.” He raised her gloved hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. “Huntley has been like a brother to me for years. If there’s ever anything I can do to be of service to you, please don’t hesitate to call upon me.”
“Why, Lord Wentworth, that’s quite gallant of you. Thank you.”
He moved in slightly closer and spoke so that only she could hear him. “I watched you during the wedding ceremony, and I must say, I’m quite pleased with Huntley’s decision to marry you. You are not at all what I expected.” With those cryptic words, he turned back to Huntley with a broad smile. “And you, Huntley. I’m glad you decided to stay in town long enough for the tournament. I signed you up to take part in it, and I won’t take no for an answer. I’ll meet you at your house next Saturday, and we’ll make a day of it.”
Daniel shot her an enigmatic glance and then nodded to his friend.
She didn’t know if she should be pleased to have garnered Wentworth’s approval or annoyed that he felt it was his to grant.
Once Wentworth moved on, Catherine leaned into Daniel and murmured, “I thought you were escorting me to the tournament. I was looking forward to it.”
He shrugged, which annoyed her immensely. “I’ll speak to Charles. I’m sure he’ll be more than pleased to escort you. Actually, it makes more sense for you to go with him since we’ve never attended Bernini’s together. You’ve always gone there with Charles. Plus, the last time we were there, we nearly gave ourselves away. It’s probably for the best.”
He turned to greet the next guest who approached, abruptly ending their discussion.
Something cooled within her, and the sense of euphoria that had carried her through the day popped like a soap bubble. Did her preferences truly count for so little? Based on their earlier conversations, she hadn’t expected such a unilateral decision from him.
After the wedding breakfast, it was time to go to her new home. She remembered nibbling on some oysters, cold game, and, of course, Troussant’s delicious wedding cake with the sinfully delicious butter-cream frosting, but she didn’t remember much else about the meal. She’d been too distracted by her growing trepidation.
As they climbed into the coach, Catherine finally felt as though the world had slowed down enough for her to see what was happening. She was married. For better or for worse. Once she sat down, she tugged off her glove and gazed at the ring on her hand. She was surprised when Daniel’s fingers slid over hers.
She raised her hand and rested it against his chest, fingering the ornate cravat pin she had given him as a wedding gift. Daniel’s hand followed hers, and their intertwined fingers curved around each other, just like the gold wire that swirled around the malachite ball at the end of his long cravat pin, suspending the stone in place.
“Thank you for the gift,” he murmured.
“I chose malachite to remind you of your gifts to me. The knife, the necklace, and the letter opener on Lord Norfolk’s desk all were made of malachite.”
“It’s perfect.”
She sighed as she leaned her head back against the seat cushions. “This has been quite a day, Lord Huntley,” she said quietly. “I’m glad my new home is close and the ride will be short.”
“Yes, it’s been quite a day, Lady Huntley,” he replied in kind, with a smile of satisfaction. He rested his head back against the carriage cushion as well and wrapped his arm around her. Catherine shifted over to lean her head against his shoulder. She liked the way her head fit so nicely in the crook of his shoulder.
She let out a small sigh of contentment, and Daniel pulled her more firmly against him as the carriage bounced toward their town house. This was the first time she’d ever been in an enclosed carriage with him.
“Hmm.” His chest rumbled against her ear. “About that short ride. In order to show you your wedding gift, I need to take you to our new estate outside London,” he said as his lips grazed her forehead in a gentle kiss.
She lifted her head from his shoulder in surprise.
“It will take us a little while to travel there. Perhaps you should rest during the drive.” He raised his hand and pressed her head back against his shoulder again in an obvious suggestion that she take a nap.
She pulled her head back to look him in the eye. “But you already gave me a gift.”
He smiled. “That was your engagement gift. This is your wedding gift.”
“Isn’t the house empty? I thought it needed a year’s worth of repairs.” What was he planning?
Daniel shrugged and looked out the window, avoiding her gaze.
Another unilateral decision. She frowned, not liking the trend. Should she say something? Should she take a stand? But this was her wedding day. The last thing she wanted was to argue on her wedding day. And perhaps she was being overly sensitive.
Tomorrow. She’d discuss this with him tomorrow.
She didn’t speak during the ride out to the new estate. After a short time, her sleepless night and the stress of the day began to catch up with her, and she began to nod off despite herself.
§
Catherine awoke with a start, feeling lips nuzzling her temple. She gave a lazy smile before she remembered she was annoyed with Daniel, but she couldn’t quite remember why.
“We’re here,” he murmured.
She straightened, lifting her head from his shoulder.
“I have a present for you, but you need to come inside to see it.”
Her new husband had the distinct aura of someone with a great secret, and a smile twitched at the corner of her mouth as she saw how eager he was.
“I do enjoy presents,” she admitted. “Will I love this one?”
“Absolutely.”
Daniel escorted her inside the enormous front hall of the main house, and his barely restrained excitement had her grinning.
What is he planning?
He led her toward the rear of the house, and she barely had time to register the enormous empty salons, tall ceilings, and ornately carved woodwork as he tugged at her hand.
Daniel approached a pair of closed double doors and stopped. He dropped her hand and stood in front of the doors with his back to them, blocking the entrance. Then he placed his hands behind his back, grasped the doorknobs and watched her with a smile of boyish anticipation as he flung them open.
She stepped into the room and gazed around in delight.
Daniel had given her a fencing salon.
“How do you like it, Catherine?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but she sensed the tension in his body as he waited to hear her answer.
“It’s marvelous,” she said, smiling broadly.
“This is the main salon, but it has a hidden surprise. Come through here.”
He led her back out to the hallway and took her to a second door, set to the right of the main entrance of the salon. The entrance was less grand. When he threw the door open, she caught a glimpse of a feminine sitting room with comfortable sofas and chairs arranged around a small fireplace. Everything was new, and the room still smelled of fresh paint.
He walked into the room and faced her, taking another couple of steps backward.
She stood at the doorway and looked around curiously. “It’s a lovely room, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this at a fencing salon.”
Daniel’s mouth twitched. “That’s because this isn’t your normal fencing salon. This room is specifically designed for you, along with the wives and mothers of my fencing students.”
“Your students?”
“In a manner of speaking. I’ve decided to open an academy here. I plan to hire a fencing expert soon who can take over much of the instruction.”
Catherine reached out and wrapped her fingers around the door frame as she heard a ringing in her ears.
This had been her dream. Not his. She’d never voiced it, but it had been
hers, nonetheless. She tried to comprehend what was happening. First he showed her his perfect fencing salon, and then the feminine drawing room to which she’d now be relegated? Was she supposed to be happy about this? She couldn’t even put the question into words, dreading his response.
She cleared her throat, trying to find her voice. She tried to speak, but nothing came out, so she tried again. “I had no idea you wanted to pursue this sort of thing.”
“Well, it’s not my dream, but I know it’s yours.”
She gripped the door frame more tightly as the world seemed to shift under her feet. “I’m sorry, Daniel, but I don’t understand. If you know this is my dream, why are you...?”
He held up his hand. “There’s more. You haven’t seen the best part yet.”
He moved toward another door Catherine hadn’t noticed. It was partially masked by a folding screen. He gestured her toward it with a wave of his hand. “Go on. The best part's right through there.”
The best part? She faltered, not knowing if she could stomach any more surprises. How could her life’s dream have been turned upside down this way? She hesitated, afraid of what she might learn. But then she lifted her chin and stepped forward through the concealed door.
And found a second fencing salon.
She stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him, her face blank. “I still don’t understand. What is this?”
“This is Lady Huntley’s Fencing Salon, an establishment for all ladies who wish to learn fencing and other forms of self-defense.”
Catherine’s jaw sagged. “What? What are you saying? You’re suggesting that I teach fencing? Openly?” Her entire body suddenly began to tingle, and she realized she’d stopped breathing.
“Whether or not you do it openly will be your decision, but if that’s what you want, then yes, you could fence openly as a woman. I have an alternate suggestion, if you’ll consider it.”
Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book Page 29
