Seduction of a Proper Gentleman (Last Man Standing)

by Victoria Alexander

  “I heard that!” Oliver huffed. “And I’m not as much of an idiot as I appear!”

  “No one possibly could be,” Kathleen said coolly.

  Lady Norcroft sighed and turned to Malcolm. “My lord.”

  He nodded and followed her out of the room.

  “Lord Dumleavy, might I ask how you feel about adventures?” Lady Norcroft’s voice drifted into the parlor.

  Malcolm laughed and Kathleen couldn’t hear his response.

  “Did you see that?” Indignation rang in Oliver’s voice. “That man is—”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Careful, Oliver, that man is my uncle.”

  “And as such is probably not to be trusted.”

  She raised a brow. “As is his niece?”

  Oliver hesitated.

  “I thought as much.” She swept past him and refilled her glass, noting the shake of her hand echoed the tremulous feeling deep in the pit of her stomach. She took a long sip and stared at the wall in front of her. “Did you mean any of it?”

  “Any of what?” he said cautiously.

  “Any of those lovely things you said to me. About a future together. About not imagining anything that would preclude a future.”

  “Well, I certainly didn’t expect this.”

  “This?” She whirled to face him. “What did you expect?”

  “Well, I expected, I don’t know, something more in the realm of ordinary.”

  “Ordinary?”

  “Yes, you know.” He gestured in an aimless manner. “An ordinary family, ordinary circumstances, ordinary answers.”

  “Adventure, Oliver.” She raised her glass to him. “Is never ordinary.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have adventures. Ask my mother, ask anyone.” He shook his head. “I am a rational, responsible person who does not have adventures.”

  “Neither do I.” She sighed. “At least I never have before and I too am rational and responsible.”

  He studied her skeptically. “But you believe in this curse.”

  She chose her words with care. “I have come to believe in it. It wasn’t something I accepted blindly. As my uncle said it took me a long time.”

  “But you were married so—”

  “My marriage lasted barely a year. I married Kenneth because I loved him. I’m not sure I would have done so if I had known about the curse. I can’t help but think he died because he married me and I was always supposed to marry you.”

  “Rubbish.” Oliver scoffed. “People die all the time. It doesn’t mean they’re cursed.”

  “How many people do you know who are killed when they walk behind a wagon filled with barrels of whisky, tied together quite securely I might add, that somehow managed to break loose and fall on him?”

  “Admittedly that’s unusual.” Reluctance sounded in his voice.

  “Unusual?”

  “Quite odd, in fact, but it doesn’t mean—”

  “That’s when my grandmother told me about the curse. Even then I didn’t believe in it. But the first gentlemen after Kenneth that I felt any sort of affection for fell off a roof.”

  “That isn’t—”

  “In truth, he was blown off the roof.”

  “Sheer stupidity.” Oliver shrugged. “He had no business being on a roof in the first place on a windy day.”

  “There was neither a cloud in the sky nor a breeze to be had.” She drew a deep swallow of the whisky. “The gentleman after that was struck by lightning.”

  “Certainly that has been known to happen.”

  “Again, there was not a cloud in the sky.” She shook her head. “The next gentleman—”

  “How many gentlemen have there been?” he said in a distinctly possessive manner, which was probably a good sign.

  “Oliver, I have been a widow for nine years. For nine very long years I have been quite alone.” She met his gaze. “Until last night.”

  He drew a deep breath. “Go on.”

  “As I was saying, the next gentleman drowned. Slipped on a stone and fell into a stream.” She sipped her whisky. “A very shallow stream. It was quite disturbing.”

  “For him.”

  “And for me. I am not heartless. At the point at which each gentleman met his untimely death, I had started to care for him and the idea of marriage had been mentioned which apparently sealed each particular suitor’s fate. I had begun to suspect forces beyond my control were involved. When William died—”

  “The one who drowned?”

  She nodded. “I was at last convinced that resistance to the curse would only claim more lives. That the only man I could safely marry was the last remaining member of the family tied to mine by the legend.” She aimed her glass at him. “You.”

  He stared at her. “Still, there’s a logical explanation—”

  “No, Oliver, there isn’t. Even if you can dismiss the deaths of four good men as coincidence there is still compelling evidence.” She set her glass down and ticked the points off on her fingers. “One, doesn’t it strike you as odd that after five hundred years our families have come down to just you and I? One would think, through the years, a family tree would grow more expansive, not smaller.”

  “Logically, I suppose—”

  “Secondly, my parents as well as your father died unusually young.”

  Oliver waved off her comment. “Such tragedies happen in life.”

  “But they have happened to us.” She continued. “Third, my aunt’s husband died young as well, and she never had children. Nor did I, nor did Malcolm. And I would think of any of us, Malcolm would sire children. As time grows closer to the end of five hundred years, the curse is coming true. Dreadful, terrible things have happened and our families are dying, trickling down to where there will be no one left.” She shook her head. “I do not intend to let it end this way.”

  “So you came to England to marry me.”

  She nodded.

  “And you pretended to have lost your memory—”

  “No,” she said sharply. “You may believe it or not, you may call it coincidence that my aunt concocted an insane plan that came to pass or you may call it magic—”

  He snorted in disdain.

  She gazed heavenward and prayed for patience. He was not going to take this well. “You should know, my family has always believed in magic particularly my aunt and my grandmother and her mother before her and so on. They have, well, dabbled for want of a better word, in the mystic arts. Casting spells, concocting charms, that sort of thing. Never, I might point out, with any success whatsoever until possibly now, so it always seemed quite harmless to me.”

  “Until possibly now,” he muttered.

  “But if you believe nothing else, believe this.” She met his gaze directly. “I never lied to you about not knowing who I was.”

  He stared at her for a moment then blew a long breath. “I believe you.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

  “I don’t know, maybe I am an idiot.” He ran his hand through his hair. “But there was something in your eyes, the look of someone lost. I daresay a look like that cannot be feigned.”

  “Thank you.” Relief washed through her. Perhaps there was hope after all.

  “I noticed that look had vanished a few days ago, no doubt that was when your memory returned, before…” His eyes widened with realization. “Before you seduced me!”

  “Before I seduced you? It seems to me the seduction was mutual.”

  “I am not the one who came to your room in the middle of the night. If you think I am going to marry you simply because you and I—”

  “I don’t, nor would I ever. Besides, I am no innocent virgin. I am an adult fully capable of making my own decisions.” She aimed an angry finger at him. “I came to your bed because that is where I wanted to be. I would never seduce a man into marriage. Even you!”

  “Until now!”

  “Although an honorable man would see his seduction of a woman who did not know her own
name as not the least bit honorable. As taking unfair advantage of her. An indiscretion that could only be remedied by marriage.”

  “But you did know your own name!

  “But you didn’t know that!”

  “Regardless, I did not seduce you.”

  “Very well, Oliver.” She clenched her teeth. “I suppose I did indeed seduce you. I certainly couldn’t count on you to do it.”

  He gasped. “I thought you might be married! I was being honorable.”

  She shrugged. “That didn’t stop you from wanting me. From saying you felt as though you had never been kissed before. From speaking of the possibility of a future together.”

  “A momentary moral transgression on my part,” he said in a lofty manner. “It could have happened to anyone.”

  “As I recall, it was more than momentary,” she said under her breath.

  “Kate, I—”

  “Kathleen,” she said without thinking. “I was called Kate as a child and by my husband, only because he knew it annoyed me. Yet another coincidence, I suppose, that your mother would pick that particular name but I prefer Kathleen.” She shrugged. “I simply grew out of Kate. It no longer suits.”

  “No,” he said slowly, “I suppose it doesn’t.”

  His gaze caught hers and they stared at one another for a long moment.

  “I’m returning to London tomorrow,” he said abruptly.

  Her heart sank. “Fleeing are we, Oliver? Rather cowardly of you.”

  “Not at all. I should say it was prudent.” His attitude was cool, his demeanor calm, the perfect earl. “You have given me a great deal to consider and I suspect I shall not be able to reach any sensible conclusions here. Between you and my mother and your uncle, and God knows what the girls will think when they learn about this—” he shuddered—“no, I think it’s best that I leave.”

  The last thing she wanted was for him to leave. “We don’t have forever. You should know that. We have to marry before the autumnal equinox, which is in three weeks.”

  “Or?”

  “Or dreadful, terrible things will happen,” she snapped.

  “I shall take the risk.”

  “What about Mr. Berkley?” she said quickly. “Should you leave while he is still here?”

  Oliver thought for a minute. “I shall bring him with me. If his intentions towards Gen are serious, he will no doubt appreciate the opportunity to show me what a fine fellow he is.”

  She shook her head. “You can’t go.”

  “Why? We are at an impasse. You intend to marry me to satisfy an absurd, ancient legend and I have no intention of marrying for such a ridiculous reason.”

  She lifted her chin. “And I have no intention of shirking my responsibilities.”

  “And your responsibility is to marry me? How romantic.”

  “Your mother is right,” she said coolly. “Sarcasm is not the least bit becoming.”

  “Then I shall take my unbecoming character and retire for the night.” He nodded and started toward the door.

  “Oliver.” She stepped toward him. “May I ask you a question?”

  He paused but didn’t turn toward her. “What is it?”

  “Have you ever been in love?”

  He shrugged in an off hand manner. “Once, a long time ago, I thought I was.”

  “It did not end well?”

  “She was in love with someone else.”

  “I see.” She chose her words with care. “Knowing about the curse now—”

  “A curse I don’t believe in.”

  “Regardless, simply knowing about it, and knowing of my experiences, four fine, honorable gentlemen now dead, would you take the risk that anyone you cared for would meet with the same fate?”

  “I don’t believe…” Oliver paused and she held her breath. “I don’t know. Good evening.” He nodded and took his leave.

  For a long moment Kathleen stared at the doorway. That went well. She sighed and sank down on the sofa. As well as could be expected.

  She couldn’t blame Oliver for his skepticism. She certainly would be hard pressed to believe a story as absurd as hers. Oliver was no doubt feeling betrayed as well. She would be. But at least he believed that she hadn’t lied to him which was probably more than she had any right to expect.

  Oliver had said he had no intention of marrying for a reason as ridiculous as a curse. Very well then, she’d give him a better reason. She hadn’t intended for any of this to happen. The more she considered the situation, the more she realized none of this would have happened if not for her amnesia. She would have to remember to thank Hannah before she strangled her.

  She heaved a heartfelt sigh. She was in love with him, which would indeed complicate matters as well as strengthen her resolve. She was fairly certain he was in love with her as well. Now all she had to do was make him realize it. It wasn’t going to be easy, but she had fate on her side, and love.

  Still, it might well be easier to make him believe in magic.

  This was not how he had thought this evening would end. After last night, Oliver had been more than confident Kate would again grace his bed. He never imagined he’d spend the night alone in his rooms, unable to sleep, pacing the floor, trying in vain to sort out a dozen conflicting emotions.

  Certainly he was happy that Kate had recovered her memory. And he did indeed believe she had not deceived him in that. He had meant what he had said about the look in her eye. No one could possibly be that good an actress to feign a look that lost. As for the rest of it…

  A curse on both their families? How very Shakespearean and how utterly absurd. Even if Kate and his mother and everyone else believed it, curses had no place in his well-ordered, practical existence. Kate was certainly convinced and admittedly, given all that had happened in her life, he could see why she might be. Her life had been marred by unexpected tragedy, and perhaps it was easier to blame it on something as ridiculous as a curse rather than accept that there was no rhyme or reason to the bad things in life.

  Would you take the risk that anyone you cared for would meet with the same fate?

  The question lingered in his mind and he still had no answer. Nor was it necessary to have an answer at the moment. After all, the only person he cared for right now was the one person it would be safe to love. If he believed such rubbish.

  It was all nonsense, complete and utter nonsense. And nothing was more preposterous than Kate’s claim that her loss of memory had been achieved by magical means. The fact that she seemed to believe it was in direct contrast with everything he had thought he knew about her. With the sort of person he had thought she was. Sensible and, well, sane. Still, he ran his hand through his hair, if one accepted a curse as fact it was no more than another step down the road to absurdity to believe in magic as well.

  Magic. He snorted in disdain. He certainly didn’t believe in either magic or the curse. Everything that had happened to Kate, up to and including her loss of memory, as well as the tragedies that had occurred in his own life could be explained as nothing more than the twists and turns of life. Coincidences, even as farfetched as a woman coming up with a silly plan that then plays out, happened in this world. It was as simple as that.

  He was not about to let superstitious nonsense dictate who and when he married. True, he wanted to marry, wanted to spend the rest of his days with the woman he loved. Still, he had never really come close to marrying anyone and when the question of marriage had surfaced tonight, coupled with the imperative nature of the curse, he had felt something akin to panic. As if he were caught in the claws of a trap, or had a noose tightening around his neck or fingers poised to strangle the breath out of him. As if his life, his very future was no longer in his hands. It was the height of irony that he alone among his friends had never thought of marriage as something to be feared but apparently, fear it he did.

  Admittedly, he had already thought about a future with Kate. And yes, he had feelings for her. And perhaps indeed what he felt was
love. But that was precisely why it was necessary that he leave all this behind and consider everything in a calm and reasonable manner. How he felt and what he wanted. He was, after all, a calm and rational man.

  Kate might be right, he might well be a coward. But he couldn’t determine anything here because every time he looked into her green eyes he was lost.

  Lost. He blew a long breath. Maybe he was under some sort of spell. Or maybe he was indeed in love. And maybe love was what he feared.

  Worst of all, he didn’t know exactly who he might be in love with.

  Chapter 18

  “You can’t possibly be considering returning to London today.” His mother swept into the library in a wave of indignation.

  “I am not considering it, Mother,” Oliver said calmly without looking up from the correspondence spread on the desk before him. Not that in the time he had sat here this morning he had actually seen any of it. Or accomplished anything. Or made any kind of decision. “I intend to leave as soon as the rain eases.”

  The day had dawned wet and dreary. A steady rain showed no signs of letting up.

  “You’re running away. Like a frightened rabbit.”

  “No, Mother, if I was a frightened rabbit I would be gone by now.” He glanced up at her and smiled politely. “I am retreating. Strategically. As any good general would upon finding himself outnumbered with nothing but sanity as his weapon.”

  “Nonsense, Oliver.” His mother seated herself in the chair in front of his desk. “The rest of us are quite sane.”

  “Sane?” He raised a brow. “My apologies, Mother, but which was the sane part? The curse or the magic?”

  “Most unbecoming,” she said under her breath. “I noticed you did not appear for breakfast.”

  “As I shall fail to appear for luncheon.”

  “And dinner?”

  He had avoided Kate thus far today but he could not do so forever. Not if he remained here. “I shall be gone by dinner.”

  “Even if it continues to rain?” She shook her head in a mournful manner. “It’s dangerous to travel in the rain, Oliver. The roads are treacherous and anything can happen. Why, I remember when poor Lord Carlton’s carriage slid right off the road in the rain and killed him.”