Catherine and the Marquis (Bluestocking Brides Book 4)

by Samantha Holt

  “I am pleased to see you, Miss Chadwick.”

  “I think you should call me Catherine.”

  His smile broadened. Did he understand what she was asking? Did he feel the same too?

  “Catherine then. And you should call me Thorne.”

  She wanted to ask for his first name but her usual boldness had vanished entirely. Blasted man. He had her tangled so completely that she did not feel one bit in control of herself. Her tongue would not work, and her limbs felt slightly jelly-like.

  “I intend to return tonight for Lilith and I was hoping that I might speak with your father about the possibility of—”

  “Of?”

  He chuckled. “Perhaps I should ask you first.” He tucked his hands behind his back. “Miss Chadwick—Catherine—I would very much like the opportunity to court you.”

  All the air left her body. She did not know whether to laugh or cry. The words, said so formally, made her heart race so fast that her head swam a little. But she just knew that behind those words—so stiff and carefully spoken—was something else. Behind the elegant posture and carefully guarded expressions lay a man who took her to see stars and held her hand and kissed her when his sister left the room.

  A wave of uncertainty washed over his face. “That is if—”

  She nodded quickly. “I would like that very much.”

  His grin returned, and she saw his body relax. “Excellent. I shall speak with your father upon my return. It is likely to be a little late so I hope that will not be a problem.”

  She shook her head vigorously. Thorne glanced around and took her hand to draw her into him. With one palm, he cupped her face gently and tilted her head up to him. Catherine could only surrender, losing herself to his intense gaze and the warmth of his hand, so soft and gentle on her cheek.

  He brushed the briefest, sweetest kiss across her lips, leaving her trembling and tingly. Releasing her hand, he stepped back and smiled. “Until tonight then.”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Tonight.”

  By the time she and Lilith departed for Emma and Guy’s house, the heat in Catherine’s cheeks had lessened but she could not, for the life of her, forget a single second. Thorne wanted to court her! Her! The girl who had kicked him and was considered to be the most scandalous Chadwick of them all.

  And she wanted that more than anything. How it was that a man so confined by rules and society made her feel like this she could not fathom but deep down, she understood one thing—there was no better man than him.

  After all, who else would treat her with such respect and almost reverence? Most other men thought her fun and silly. They would never take her seriously. Thorne, however…well, he treated her like no man ever had.

  “You are extremely quiet today, Kitty,” Lilith commented as they made their way across Farmer Higgins’ land.

  A gathering sheep clustered in one corner under a tree while a few lone ones lay lazily next to the stone wall, forcing Catherine and Lilith to skirt around them.

  “Forgive me.”

  “And you are not going to tell me why you are so quiet?”

  Catherine dare not say a thing. What if he changed his mind? What if he went to London and met other ladies and realized she was not an attractive prospect at all? She was not even sure how Lilith would feel about Catherine’s feelings for her brother. It was better to wait until Thorne had spoken with her father.

  She could not help but smile. Her father would be in for quite a shock—all the other prospective matches for her sisters had been forced to write to him to ask for her sisters’ hands and had gone through no formal courting.

  Catherine took Lilith’s arm in hers. “I’m a little tired I think. I stayed up late last night. I’m looking forward to seeing the baby, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, yes.” Lilith smiled. “Hopefully Thorney will marry before long and then there shall be more babies. I cannot wait to be an aunt.”

  Catherine pressed her lips together.

  “You said a lot of the family will be there today?” Lilith asked.

  “Yes. My aunt and uncle are coming, and even Lavinia, though I am not sure if she has arrived yet. She has quite a journey and the roads from Scotland can be unpredictable.”

  “It must be hard for her to be away from you all. I envy you so much having so many sisters. My only sister was too old to really be my friend and was married by the time I was twelve.”

  “I think Lavinia has adapted wonderfully to Scotland, and the scenery—and of course her doting husband—make it all worthwhile. Though, Lavinia could adapt to anywhere. That’s her nature. You could put her out in the desert and she would turn into some beautiful Arab princess or something while the rest of us would wither and become a red, freckled mess.”

  Lilith giggled. “I think I would do the same. Without the freckles though.”

  When they arrived at the house, evidence of several visitors in the form of coaches stood at the entranceway. Chatter and bustle greeted them when they entered, and Catherine took Lilith’s hand to guide her through the house to find Emma.

  Aunt Millicent forced her to stop by stepping out in front of her. “Catherine, my dear, it is not ladylike to rush.”

  “Good morning to you too, aunt. How was your journey from London?”

  “All the better for seeing the baby. Is he not a dear?”

  “Yes, he is a dear,” she agreed. “Now I must—”

  “To think the Chadwicks will be in part responsible for the next Earl of Radcliff.” Aunt Millicent tugged a fan out of her sleeve and waved it so vigorously that Catherine felt her curls bounce against her cheeks.

  “Hmmm,” said Catherine.

  “No one could have expected that from your side of the family.”

  “We were all surprised, I can assure you of that, aunt. Now if you will just—”

  “My own daughter was married recently, as you know, and quite well too. We must be grateful for all matches considering what that frightful Cousin Bess did.”

  Catherine nodded. How the frightful Cousin Bess affected Aunt Millicent’s side, she did not know. Cousin Bess was not even related by blood and was only vaguely connected to Aunt Millicent’s daughter.

  Her aunt gave a surreptitious look. “Of course—”

  “Oh, I see Uncle George. I must go and greet him!” Catherine peered over her aunt’s shoulder who did not even bother to look around before rushing off, declaring she needed some fresh air rather suddenly.

  “Who is Uncle George and why is your aunt running away?” asked Lilith.

  Catherine giggled. “I do not even think Uncle George is coming. He’s a strange character, stranger even than any of us Chadwicks.” He was related to them in a vague way that had Catherine suspecting he was not even an uncle but one of those men who had always been around the family and had somehow been granted the honorary title of uncle.

  “Just be grateful he is not really here. He is horribly awkward and prone to spitting when he speaks. I doubt he could be dragged to this sort of event, even if we wanted him here.”

  “There’s Emma.” Lilith pointed through the crowd of people in the hallway to where Emma was sat, surrounded by Catherine’s sisters like a bit of a shield wall. Julia held the baby who was still as bald as ever.

  Lavinia stood as soon as she saw Catherine and embraced her fiercely. Catherine stood back and admired her sister who seemed to only grow more beautiful with age.

  “I did not think you would already be here,” Catherine declared. “This is my friend Lilith.”

  “A pleasure to meet you. I have heard all about you.” Lavinia smiled at Lilith. “We left a day early. I could wait no longer to meet the baby.” Lavinia sat and patted the seat beside her. “It seems it shall never happen for Niall and I so I am glad my sisters are making up for that.”

  Catherine winced. Lavinia had been married longer than all of them but had not been successful in having a baby. It had not seemed to diminish her happine
ss with her husband thankfully.

  “I am sorry.” Catherine gave her sister’s hand a squeeze.

  “Thankfully Niall’s brothers and sisters have plenty of children.” Lavinia chuckled. “They keep me more than occupied.”

  “Does he have a name yet?” Lilith asked Emma as the baby was passed around between them.

  “It is horribly undignified not to have one according to Mama,” said Catherine with a grin. “What about Rollo?”

  “Rollo?” Julia declared. “That is a terrible name.”

  “He looks like a Rollo. Look he likes it.” The baby’s lips compressed, and a tiny rumble emanated from him.

  Julia laughed. “I do not think that was a smile.”

  Emma reached over to take the baby back in her arms. “We are going to call him Noah for Morgan’s father. It’s seems appropriate,” Emma told them. “And Stephen. It is the male version of Morgan’s mother’s name, Stephanie.”

  Morgan had lost his parents in a tragic carriage accident, so Catherine could well understand them wishing to honor them both.

  “You shall have to save Rollo for your children,” said Amelia.

  “Very well, I shall.” Catherine lifted her chin. “Rollo shall be the most handsome and well sort after boy in all of England, you wait and see. Speaking of Stephens, I thought I saw Guy’s brother a moment ago,” Catherine said.

  Julia nodded. Stephen was the younger brother of Guy and as frightfully handsome as him. He’d been on track to become quite the rake but since his time in Hampshire, he had become something of a gentleman.

  “He’s just over there,” Julia pointed to where Stephen stood with a young lady. “That is Miss Ambrose. Apparently, he has taken quite the liking to her and she is a vicar’s daughter. Guy is thrilled because he thinks she’s a good influence on him.”

  “Mama shall be disappointed,” laughed Catherine.

  At one point, Mama had muttered that Catherine should try to gain Stephen’s attention. But Catherine had not found him interesting one bit and he was a few years younger than her which had put her off immediately.

  “Not at all. Mama has you all set to marry the marquis, remember?” teased Amelia.

  After most of the various aunts and cousins and uncles had departed or retreated up to their guest rooms, Catherine bid her sisters farewell and gave Noah a kiss on his tiny forehead.

  “I hope you are surviving all alone with Mama.” Emma gave her arm a squeeze. “I’m glad you’ve got Lilith to keep you company. She is sweet.”

  “I’m keeping myself busy,” Catherine assured her, “and out of Mama’s way when I can.”

  “Good. Do not be a stranger. You always promised to be the eccentric spinster aunt remember?”

  Catherine merely smiled. She had always declared she was looking forward to taking such a role on and she genuinely had been. The thought of marriage had never appealed to her…until now.

  She and Lilith made quick time as dusk began to fall. Only one window shone with light and Catherine scowled. The servants would have returned home by now, but her father should have lit a few more lanterns at this time of night.

  “The house is dark,” Lilith whispered.

  Catherine understood Lilith’s trepidation. Why were nearly all the lights out? She eased open the front door and screamed, her heart jumping up into her throat when her mother leapt out at her and gripped her arms.

  “Oh, thank the Lord, I thought you would never return home.”

  Catherine gathered her senses and took in her mother’s pale face and harried expression. “Mama, if this is about bonnets or—”

  “No, no. It is your father. That blasted ugly cat tripped him over and he fell against the dining table. I fear he is done for and what shall I do? What shall we do? We shall have to rely on your sisters.” Her mother let up a dreadful wail.

  “Where is he?” Catherine demanded.

  “In the parlor. I had to practically carry him there myself. Oh, Catherine, I could not bear it if—”

  Lilith put an arm around her mother’s shoulder and moved her slightly out of the way so Catherine could press through into the parlor room. Her father lay on the chaise, a cloth pressed to his head. His skin looked ashen but he was alert.

  “Oh, Papa, what happened?” Catherine kneeled beside him and lifted the cloth away to see a sizeable cut on his head.

  “I am fine,” her father insisted, trying to sit. “Your mother is fussing about nothing. People do not die from tripping over cats.”

  She pressed him back down on the chaise. She imagined there was at least one person who had died from tripping over a cat. After all, they did like to get under people’s feet with frustrating regularity. However, she doubted her father would be part of that statistic.

  “This need stitches,” she murmured.

  “Oh dear.” The wail came from her mother who had propped herself up against the doorway as though she was about to faint.

  “I should get the doctor.” Catherine stood.

  “Oh goodness no. It is too dark. And I think it might rain.” Her mother shook her head vigorously. “There is no one to hook up the carriage. You shall die too and then I shall be left all alone.”

  “Stop fussing,” muttered Papa.

  Catherine huffed. “I am quite capable of—”

  Lilith held up a hand. “Why do I not go? I know my way to the village and I am an excellent rider. Then you can stay and look after your mother.”

  Catherine eyed her friend and mouthed, “Are you certain?”

  Lilith nodded. “I will not take long. I can saddle one of the horses easily enough. You look after your parents.”

  “Just be safe,” Catherine called to her as she left the room. “Your brother shall never forgive me if anything happens to you.”

  “I shall have that cat thrown out,” Mama declared, her voice wobbling. She put a hand to her head. “Blood always made me feel faint.”

  “You shall do nothing of the sort to the cat, and you have never fainted at the sight of blood before.” Papa shook his head then grimaced. “Kitty, see to your mother and get her sitting down before she has an accident and you have two injured parents on your hands.”

  Catherine did as she was told, helping her mother to a chair. “I shall get some tea. Will you be well, Papa?”

  “Yes, yes. A little peace would be nice, though, I have a frightful headache.”

  Catherine busied herself keeping her mother quiet and dabbing at her father’s head while keeping an eye out for Lilith. Anxiety burned in her stomach. She should have gone instead—she knew the area better, though Lilith was a much better rider than she. Catherine always opted to walk rather than ride. She would be fine, she had to be.

  A knock at the door made her breath catch. She hauled it open. “Oh.”

  “Oh?” Thorne removed his hat and his brows rose.

  She swallowed. “I thought you might be Lilith.”

  His eyes darkened instantly. “Why is she not with you?”

  Catherine motioned for him to come in and stepped back. “My father had an accident” —she held up a hand at his concerned expression— “it is nothing too serious. But he does need the doctor. Lilith offered to go for him.”

  Thorne glanced out of the window at the dark night. Catherine had not realized it but the weather had turned drizzly.

  “You let my sister walk to the village in the dark, in this weather?” he said, his voice low.

  Dread pulled at her stomach. Thorne’s stern expression had her wanting to shrink away into the floorboards. “She rode.”

  He shook his head. “Catherine, I trusted you to look after my sister. I cannot believe you would let her do something so damn reckless. If she ends up hurt, by God…” He shoved a hand through his hair and looked away.

  “I wanted to go but she insisted. She’s a grown woman, whether you like to believe that or not. I cannot control her any more than I can control you.”

  “Yes, well I am not sure
you know much about control. Not when you seem to have so little of it yourself.”

  She sucked in a breath, feeling as though she had just been slapped across the face by his words. “I think it far better to be like this than like…well, you. You want everyone to do things just as you think it should be done and heaven forbid if someone wish to do something differently. I do not see what is so wrong with wanting to live a little.”

  “If my sister runs into any danger, she will have little chance of ‘living a little.’” He mimicked her words.

  “So will you keep her locked away for the rest of her days just in case something happens? Will you watch her every step until she’s utterly miserable and alone?”

  “If I must, yes.”

  Catherine stared at the floor and took a calming breath. Tears burned hot behind her eyes. She lifted her head. “I had thought there was more to you than that. Clearly I was wrong. If that is the sort of future we would have looked at having together, I can say quite honestly, I want nothing to do with it.”

  The darkness in his gaze seemed to vanish before returning, harder than ever. “I think we were both laboring under misapprehensions about one another.”

  “Yes,” she said quietly, her throat tightening to the point of pain.

  “What a fine job we realized that before either of us did something we would regret.”

  He said it so coldly that a chill spread through her. It seemed she had been wrong about him. There were no hidden depths or wonderful sweetness to him that only she could see. If he could chide her like a child and declare any fondness he had for her a mistake, then it was a good thing she had seen this before he had declared any intentions to her father.

  The door burst open and a sodden-looking Lilith entered, accompanied by the doctor.

  “Oh, Thorney, you are here.” Lilith smiled at her brother, oblivious to the strained atmosphere in the small hallway. “If only you had been earlier, I’d be a darn sight warmer and dryer.”

  Catherine led the doctor through to her father and returned to Lilith’s side. “Shall I get you a drink or something to warm you up?”