A Lady of Hidden Intent

by Tracie Peterson

  Pounding on Selma and Dugan’s door, Catherine practically fell into Selma’s arms when the woman opened it to see what was wrong. Tears poured down Catherine’s face, dampening Selma’s robe.

  “What is it, child? What’s wrong?”

  Catherine pulled away. “Everything. Everything is wrong. I cannot bear this charade any longer. Mrs. Clarkson trusts me. She trusts me so much she is ready to leave me all of her worldly goods in a will. She trusts me so much she drew up papers to have me made a partner in this establishment. It is a trust I do not deserve, as we both know.”

  “Calm yourself, Catherine.” Selma drew her to the fire and motioned her to sit. “There is no problem too big for God to handle. If trust is to be mentioned, let us think of Him. There our trust is secure.”

  “I cannot go on deceiving this good woman. I must find a way to explain.”

  “Perhaps,” Dugan said, coming from the bedroom, “it is time to come clean on our circumstances.”

  “You mean tell Mrs. Clarkson everything?” Catherine asked. Selma exchanged a look with her husband as he nodded. “Perhaps it is time to do just that.”

  CHAPTER 14

  So what do you think?” Leander asked, showing Carter a delicate bracelet of gold and coral.

  “It’s lovely,” Carter replied, only half interested. But then he realized Leander had purchased this for his sister. “You’re going to give this to Winifred?”

  “I thought I would. Look, my time in New York and your declaration of feelings for Catherine have caused me to realize I care very deeply for Winifred. I can honestly say that I love her and want to spend the rest of my life with her. I’m just sorry it took me so long to see.”

  Carter grinned. “Hurrah! Then soon you shall be my brother.” He clasped Leander’s shoulder and smiled. “I couldn’t be happier.”

  “Well, we might find your father of a different mind.” Leander closed the box containing the bracelet.

  “I think Father can be managed well enough. Come to dinner. I will praise you and even mention that you’ve recently inherited a fortune from your grandfather.”

  “It is but a small inheritance,” Leander countered.

  “An inheritance nevertheless,” Carter said, grinning. “We needn’t tell him the amount. That would hardly be expected, and my father, although ill-mannered, would never ask.”

  Leander shook his head. “Would that he might be more considerate of his daughter’s happiness.”

  “Or my mother’s,” Carter countered. “My father only concerns himself with his own happiness. My brother has embraced that teaching in full.”

  “Then it is up to you to break the mold, and I believe you’ve already shown yourself worthy of respect.”

  “Not my father’s respect, I’m afraid. But I shall endeavor to put that aside. I know I am doing what I feel is right. Come to supper and we shall see this matter put in order.”

  Carter watched his father assess Leander from across the table. He seemed preoccupied, but Carter thought that to his friend’s advantage. After his father downed his third glass of wine, he leaned back in his chair.

  “With the women busy elsewhere, we might as well discuss your proposal to court my daughter. I know your father’s repu- tation and have heard you are doing quite well,” Elger Danby began.

  “My practice has tripled in less than a year,” Leander said, holding Danby’s gaze. “I believe it will continue to build.”

  “Your family has a long history in this town.”

  “Yes, sir,” Leander agreed. “My mother’s people settled here in the early 1700s.”

  “And I’m told you recently received an inheritance from your mother’s late father.”

  Carter shook his head and tossed his napkin on the table, hoping to avert more specific inquiries. “Father, it hardly seems appropriate to discuss such matters.”

  “This man wishes to court and possibly marry your sister. I have to be certain that he will be able to properly care for her.”

  Leander continued to fix his gaze on Elger Danby. “I don’t mind the questioning. I have received an inheritance from my grandfather.”

  Danby’s questioning was interrupted when Carter’s brother made a surprise appearance. “There are problems we need to discuss,” Robin said, completely unmindful of the company his father shared.

  “Good evening to you too, Robin,” Carter said rather sarcastically.

  Robin looked at him for a moment, then noted Leander. “I apologize, but this matter is of the utmost concern.”

  Their father got to his feet. “Mr. Arlington, you have my permission to pursue Winifred. It would serve this family well to have a knowledgeable lawyer in our numbers.”

  Robin frowned and looked at Leander. Carter thought for a moment he might protest, but he said nothing. Carter breathed a sigh of relief.

  “If you’ll excuse me now, I’ll attend to this matter in my private quarters.” Elger Danby left Carter and Lee and immediately began conversing with Robin as they made their way upstairs.

  “What a relief,” Carter said, pushing back from the table.

  “Perhaps it’s the only time I’ve been truly happy to see Robin impose himself in such a manner.”

  Lee nodded and pulled a watch from his pocket. “I should be going. After all, I got what I came for.” He smiled and Carter clapped him on the back.

  “You’ll need to let Winifred know. She had no idea that you meant to talk to Father about this tonight, did she?”

  “No. I didn’t wish to get her hopes up.”

  “Probably a wise decision. But now that you’ve accomplished the matter, she’ll be delighted.”

  Lee allowed Wilson to help him with his coat. “Why don’t we have dinner at my house on Sunday. We can invite both Winifred and Catherine. If your sister asks Catherine to come, then we are certain to see her in attendance. I know it would help your cause, as well as mine.”

  Carter grinned. “I believe I would like that arrangement.” He reached out and touched Leander’s shoulder. “I pray this works to the benefit of us all. I can think of nothing I would like more than having my sister happily settled with you.”

  “And Catherine happily settled with you?” Leander said with a smile.

  “I don’t suppose that would cause me any distress,” he laughed, giving Lee a firm pat on the back. “We’ll see you Sunday.”

  Catherine found herself in the Arlington parlor, surrounded by people she didn’t really know. The room was small but charming. Done up in hues of red and brown, it gave a warm feeling of comfort and family.

  Mrs. Arlington was kind and welcoming, not caring in the least that Catherine was a seamstress. She had commented about hearing Carter and Catherine’s names so often mentioned among her friends that she was certain there must be some sort of conspiracy to see them linked. She also mentioned in a hushed tone her pleasure in seeing her son take an intimate interest in Winifred.

  Catherine turned and watched Leander take Winifred’s hand in his own and smile. The way he watched her and attended to her every need left Catherine little doubt as to his intentions.

  “I see you watching my sister and Lee,” Carter whispered against her ear.

  Catherine startled. Glancing around to see who else might have overheard, she realized that Mr. and Mrs. Arlington had disappeared, leaving only the couples.

  “I hope he is acting honorably,” she said, trying to steady her voice.

  “You will be happy to know, he is in fact asking to properly court her. My father has given his approval.”

  Catherine smiled at this news and Carter gasped, causing her to clutch her hand to her throat. “What?” She knew she sounded frightened but couldn’t help it. Her nerves were raw.

  Carter took hold of her hand and gave it a gentle pat. “I apologize. You simply surprised me with that smile. It’s the first I’ve seen from you here in Philadelphia.”

  She tried to compose herself, but Carter’s touch was o
verwhelming. Her mind could only think of the way his thumb stroked the back of her hand. She felt her breath quicken and tried to pull away.

  “Stay,” he whispered. “Please. I want to know you better.”

  Catherine refused to meet his eyes. She knew she’d be lost if she gazed into those dark pools. She’d never felt like this before.

  What kind of power did this man have over her?

  “You must know that I care about you. I would very much like to show you the same attention that Leander is showing Winifred. Catherine, I’d like to court you.”

  She couldn’t help her reaction. Her head snapped up to meet his gaze. “I beg your pardon?”

  He laughed. “Don’t act so surprised. I’ve told you before that I intended to know you better—to make you smile.”

  “Supper is ready to be served,” an older blond-haired woman announced.

  “Thank you, Marta,” Leander said, getting to his feet. He assisted Winifred, and Catherine couldn’t help but notice how she was happy to take his arm.

  Before she could react, Carter had tucked her arm in his.

  “Shall we?”

  Catherine allowed him to lead her from the room. Much like a lamb going to slaughter, she thought. Yet there was a part of her that felt a great sense of pleasure in his touch and attention. No man had spoken of love to her in over five years. She had resigned herself to be a spinster, yet here was Carter Danby suggesting otherwise.

  But, of course, if he knew my father was a convicted criminal, he wouldn’t be so quick to offer courtship.

  Dinner was a festive affair. Catherine was surprised at the lack of formality against the elegant setting. Mrs. Arlington seemed a jolly woman who adored her husband and son. She spoke fondly of two other sons and a daughter.

  “Mother believes we can do no wrong,” Leander said, laughing.

  Catherine had busied herself by cutting a piece of roast on her plate, suddenly yearning to return home to the safety of her room.

  “You attack that beef as if you were a surgeon excising a growth,” Carter teased in a barely audible voice.

  Catherine had been less than comfortable ever since Mrs. Arlington had positioned them side by side at the very small table. She thought to comment but instead put her silver aside and reached for her glass.

  “My dear, I am quite impressed with all that you told me about your gown designs. They are quite impressive,” Mrs. Arlington declared.

  Catherine looked to her left, where the woman was seated. “You are very kind to say so. I like to believe the talent is something God has given to me.”

  “Did your mother teach you to sew?”

  Catherine completely forgot herself. “No. My governess did.”

  “And is she working with you now?”

  “No. She died in an influenza epidemic.”

  “Oh, my dear. I am sorry. Did you lose any family members?”

  Catherine looked at Carter, and he offered her a look that suggested assurance, but for what purpose Catherine could not figure.

  She turned quickly back to Mrs. Arlington and in doing so, knocked over her glass. “I am so sorry,” Catherine said, jumping to her feet. “Please forgive me.”

  “Nonsense. Take your seat, my dear,” Mr. Arlington said, waving her down. A servant quickly appeared at her side and dabbed at the wet tablecloth.

  “No harm done, my dear,” Leander’s mother added. “We have spills all of the time.”

  “I wish my mother would be so calm amid accidents,” Winifred said with a sympathetic glance at Catherine. “She worries overly much about every little thing.” She put her hand to her mouth and shook her head. “I suppose I should not speak out in such a way, for I love her dearly.”

  “Of course you do,” Mrs. Arlington said, giving Winifred’s arm a squeeze. “Goodness, but we all have our peculiarities. Now, where were we?”

  “I believe I know,” Carter said.

  His comment put a sense of dread and fear in Catherine’s heart. She wondered how difficult it would be to get up and run from the room. Instead she found herself rather stunned when Carter continued.

  “Leander, I believe, was about to share some important news.”

  Catherine looked at Carter. He smiled at her and then looked to Leander. “Tell us all about it, Lee.”

  “I am quite happy to announce that I have asked Miss Danby to allow me to court her. And Miss Danby has agreed.”

  “Oh my!” Mrs. Arlington gave a squeal of delight. “I can scarce believe it. Oh, this is a happy day.”

  The conversation went on and on with congratulations and discussions of anticipated outings and gatherings. Catherine knew that Carter had purposefully redirected the conversation on her behalf. The look on his face concerned her deeply, however. He looked as if he knew—as if he remembered where they had met and who she was.

  After dinner Catherine allowed Carter to help her with her coat and escort her to the carriage. “Have you given thought about what I said?” Carter asked as he assisted her.

  “I . . . I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Catherine replied. She shivered against the cold, immediately drawing Carter’s attention.

  Without warning, Carter crossed from his side of the carriage to hers and pulled a blanket over their laps. It was completely inappropriate, but Catherine found herself unable to speak.

  “I was talking about us. About your allowing me to court you.”

  In that moment, Catherine could honestly say that, save rescuing her father from prison, she had never desired anything more. Carter Danby took her breath away. He was intelligent, kind, and very dashing. Any woman would be blessed to have him for a husband. But the reality of the moment was that she could not confide her secrets to him. Even if he remembered who she was, he didn’t know the full story, and she could not go into such a serious relationship without being free to tell the truth.

  “I cannot,” she finally said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why can’t you?” He refused to give up.

  “I have my work. I have people who are counting on me,” she said, knowing it to be true in part. “I have no time for frivolities. I wouldn’t even have accompanied your sister had you not paid Mrs. Clarkson.”

  “So you know about that,” he said, sounding rather chagrined.

  “I do. It was rather underhanded of you, I must say.”

  He grinned and leaned very close, his warm breath touching her cheek. “I wonder how much I’d have to pay Mrs. Clarkson to get her to let you court me.”

  Just then Leander and Winifred arrived at the carriage. Catherine said nothing about Carter’s comment, but she couldn’t deny she was intrigued. A part of her wished he’d forget she ever existed. Another part hoped he’d go talk to Mrs. Clarkson.

  CHAPTER 15

  Catherine, I need to be talkin’ to ya,” Beatrix said in a grave voice. She had come to Catherine’s private quarters and looked quite upset.

  “What’s wrong? Is your family all right?”

  “They’re fine. ’Tis yourself I’m worried about.”

  Catherine pulled the girl into the room and closed the door.

  “Come sit by the fire and tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I overheard Lydia tell Felicia something. She said ya were hidin’ the truth, and Felicia said it wouldn’t be matterin’ much longer. She said ya would soon be gone and she’d be seein’ to it.”

  Catherine frowned. She had no idea what Felicia might or might not know. Right now, however, she knew she needed to appear calm and unmoved in order to put Beatrix at ease.

  “Don’t worry about it. Felicia has long held me a grudge. She won’t be able to harm me. You mustn’t worry.”

  “Are ya sure? I’d hate to be seein’ ya hurt.”

  Catherine nodded. “God is taking care of us, and I know He will watch over me. If you hear anything more, you can tell me, but otherwise, don’t be afraid.”

  “I hope yar right. I don’t want to be havin�
�� Felicia for a boss.”

  “Go on to bed. Everything will work out. You’ll see.”

  Beatrix got up and Catherine followed her to the door. “I love workin’ with ya, Catherine. I’ve learned so much.”

  “You’re a good student and a quick study. It’s easy to teach you, and I like working with you as well.”

  Beatrix looked at her as if wrestling with whether or not to say something else, then decided against it. “Good night to ya, then.”

  “Good night, Beatrix.”

  Catherine closed the door and leaned against it. With Dugan and Selma’s support, it was clear that now was the right time to entrust Mrs. Clarkson with her secret.

  Whispering a prayer for strength, Catherine went downstairs in search of her employer. She knocked lightly on the door to Mrs. Clarkson’s private quarters and was relieved when she immediately opened the door.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but I feel we must talk.”

  Mrs. Clarkson looked worried. “But of course. Please come and sit with me. What’s wrong?”

  Waiting until they were seated, Catherine struggled with her words. “I’m afraid I’ve practiced a great deception with you.”

  “Surely not,” the older woman said with a laugh. “I cannot believe that.”

  “But you must,” Catherine said in earnest. “I hope you will hear me out. I pray we might still be able to work together after you know the truth.”

  “Very well,” Mrs. Clarkson said, sobering. “Tell me.”

  Catherine launched into the full story, explaining in detail the nightmare that had become her life. She was surprised at one point when Mrs. Clarkson dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. The fear Catherine had harbored—fear of being dismissed because of her father’s supposed guilt involving slave trading—vanished.

  “I cannot say what might happen in the future, but I assure you that my only reason for this deception was to protect the people I love.”

  “My dear, I can well understand your choices. My, but how hard it must have been for you to lose your father in such a manner. What can I do to help?”