His Perfect Lady

by Jenn Langston

  Chapter 15

  Catherine could hardly remain still as her maid prepared her hair for Jonathan’s ball. The last time she saw him, he appeared so sad and dejected. She had tried, to no avail, to erase the pain from his eyes. She’d hoped to ascertain if his love for her remained before making hers known, but she couldn’t wait any longer.

  Uncle Toban had yet to remove her from his house, but the fact that he’d been ignoring her entirely had been a bad sign. Even so, she refused to marry Lord Dudgery. If Jonathan no longer wanted her, she would find a way to survive, and she would be free.

  Gliding down the stairs and into the drawing room, she felt better than she had in months. Tonight she would see Jonathan. Tonight she would obtain the answers to her questions. Tonight she would face her fate.

  “You look stunning this evening.” Kenneth took her hand and spun her in a little circle. “May I ask what or whom put the extra glow in your eyes?”

  Catherine smiled as warmth rose to her cheeks. “I’m simply excited to attend a ball at Linwood. From what I heard, this will be the first in many years.”

  “I understand the viscount is receiving pressure to marry.” Kenneth eyed her closely.

  With a glance down at her gown, she smoothed the creases from her skirts. “That appears to be going around lately.”

  “Do you love him?” her cousin blurted, earning her full attention.

  She stopped breathing as he studied her. How could she respond? Would Kenneth understand, or would he side with his father?

  “Come along,” Uncle Toban demanded from the door, making her jump. “Let’s get this farce over with.”

  He didn’t make eye contact with her as she passed by him, nor did he speak as they traveled the short distance to Linwood. She tried to ignore him. No matter the outcome from tonight, she wouldn’t have to suffer her uncle’s presence long. One way or another, she would leave his house.

  As Kenneth assisted her from the carriage, he squeezed her hand while shooting her a worried glance. Was his concern about Jonathan or about his father? Either way, she appreciated his outward sign of caring. Something had changed him these past months. Not only had she not heard of his debts climbing, but he also appeared more attentive to her.

  “Good evening, Lord Berwick,” Jonathan greeted her uncle in a cheery voice. “I can’t say how pleased I am that you and your family could attend.”

  “How could we refuse now that the relationship between our families has healed?” Uncle Toban replied, his tone stiff.

  Jonathan’s sparkling green eyes turned to her. “Mrs. Gates, truly a pleasure.”

  At that moment, Miss Glace appeared and wrapped her hands around Jonathan’s arm in a possessive manner. Her extravagant low—cut dress matched Jonathan’s attire perfectly. Catherine forced a smile. It was no coincidence.

  “Yes, Catherine. We are pleased to see you,” Miss Glace purred.

  “You as well, Lord Linwood and Miss Glace.” Catherine emphasized her name to remind the girl greeting the guests didn’t fall to her.

  “If you are agreeable, I would be pleased to share the first waltz with you,” Jonathan said, inclining his head at her.

  Seeing Miss Glace stiffen, Catherine smiled triumphantly, then moved on from the host. She felt lighter. If Jonathan felt nothing for her, he wouldn’t have risked angering Miss Glace, who’d clearly received deference from him.

  Catherine moved further into the ballroom, taking note of the familiar faces. She wished Jonathan had neglected to invite Lord Dudgery and Evelyn. At that moment, they were sharing a dance, and from the sight, Catherine imagined the two of them were unaware of anyone else in the room. Why would Lord Dudgery agree to marry her if he clearly held interest in another woman? Watching them made her head throb.

  “Catherine,” Brianna called. “Come join us.”

  Glancing to the side, Catherine noticed Brianna and Abigail standing with their husbands. Although happy to have someone to converse with, she didn’t feel comfortable being the only one without a partner. Forcing a smile, she made her way over and greeted them.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” Lord Stonemede inquired.

  “I’ve only just arrived, but everything appears pleasant.”

  “More pleasant if you’re dancing.” Abigail eyes trailed to her husband as the first notes of a waltz struck up. “I do enjoy waltzing.”

  Lord Merrick laughed as if due to a private jest. “Would you do me the honor?”

  “Please excuse us.” Love shone from Abigail’s face as she left with her husband.

  “Do you enjoy the waltz?” Brianna asked.

  “Yes. I have found it agreeable.” Catherine surveyed the crowd searching for Jonathan. Had he forgotten so quickly?

  Turning back to her friends, she saw Brianna elbow her husband and shoot him an exasperated look.

  “Oh, um, Mrs. Gates, would you honor me with a dance?” he asked.

  Brianna smiled encouragingly.

  Catherine was torn. She wanted to dance but still hoped Jonathan would arrive. If Miss Glace detained him intentionally, she hated to refuse Lord Stonemede and miss out on a dance.

  “I—” Catherine felt someone touch her shoulder.

  “Have promised the dance to me,” Jonathan finished, anger touching his voice.

  Without another word, he took her arm and led her to the dance floor. As he drew her into his embrace, she felt whole again. What about him reached her core and affected her so fully? She wished she knew.

  “Were you about to give my dance away?”

  “Of course. Lord Stonemede has quite a reputation on the dance floor.”

  “He also has a wife who isn’t keen on sharing.”

  “Actually, she brought about his offer. And I wouldn’t mind trying her husband out in the least. Then I can see for myself if he’s as skilled as they say.”

  Jonathan’s grip tightened as his jaw clenched. Was he jealous? The idea couldn’t be more absurd. The irrational part of her hoped so. Especially for something as little as a dance.

  “Brianna might allow a dance, but don’t even jest about testing her husband’s skill. Not only would she not appreciate it, but I don’t either.”

  “What do you . . .? Oh.” Catherine laughed, realizing how he misinterpreted her words. He was jealous. “You are right. That is one skill I shall not test . . . on him, at least.”

  His eyes darkened and a sound similar to a growl escaped through his lips. She enjoyed his reaction. He may be pursuing Miss Glace, but deep down, he still cared for her. She wanted to exalt as pleasure filled her chest almost to bursting. A better night had never existed.

  When the dance ended, he returned her to her uncle but appeared reluctant to leave. However, he didn’t ask for another dance or promise to see her later before he walked away.

  “Do I need to remind you that you are betrothed?” Uncle Toban asked without making eye contact.

  “I’m fully aware of my current situation, Uncle.” The anger in her voice must have surprised him, for he whipped his head around to face her. She met his eyes with a glare.

  “You are the most ungrateful little—”

  “Excuse me,” she interrupted, grateful her voice remained even although her hands shook. “I believe I will seek out my betrothed.”

  Catherine left him, red—faced and spitting. She didn’t know this man. He no longer resembled the uncle who had taken her in and helped her nurse her pain. What had changed him?

  She paused and fell into a chair. Dizziness overtook her as she realized her life with her uncle had been a lie. Why had he pretended to care for her? Had he ever loved her?

  Shaking off the unpleasant thoughts, she stood and made her way over to Lord Dudgery. She was ready to get this over with. Ignoring the look of disgust on his mother’s face, she drew her shoulders back.

  “Lord Dudgery,” Catherine began. “May I have a word with you?”

  He stared down at her as if she were beneath him,
then reluctantly offered his arm. She hadn’t seen him since the day she told him to stop visiting her, so she hadn’t been sure he would agree. Regardless, they needed to talk. Too many things had to be said.

  “Where would you like to go?”

  “Somewhere secluded. Perhaps a vacant garden path,” Catherine suggested.

  Although the garden couldn’t offer much privacy, she didn’t want to be locked in a room with him. She didn’t trust him. As he took her deep into the garden, her heart traveled further up in her chest until it lodged in her throat. Her palms began to sweat, and she began to question whether she could do this.

  When they stopped, he turned to her. “Now, what did you want to talk about?” His lecherous eyes traveled down the length of her body.

  She took a step back. “I wanted to speak of our betrothal.”

  “Not this again.” His shoulders sagged as he rolled his eyes. “I have told you over and over, we can’t marry yet.”

  “That is not what I wanted to speak of.”

  “What then?” He watched her, confusion written on his face.

  She could hardly believe he was so clueless as to her purpose. Taking a breath, she willed her voice to remain calm. “I don’t want to marry you.”

  Lord Dudgery’s head reeled back as anger darkened his face. “What?”

  Forcing her trembling muscles to still, she kept her gaze locked on him. “I’m sorry, my lord, but I must call off the betrothal.”

  His anger slowly melted away, relaxing his face, until he stared at her blankly. She couldn’t slow her breathing as she waited to hear of her fate. Would he cause a scandal and ruin her reputation? Did he even care? As his lips curved upward, she realized she would be safe from him.

  He bobbed his head while shaking his finger. “This works. I have secured my dealings with your uncle. So, we’re free.”

  Catherine couldn’t move. “What do you mean?”

  “We are no longer betrothed, and I don’t see any reason to speak of our temporary arrangement again.”

  “We are in agreement?”

  “Yes. I can’t thank you enough. You have been invaluable, and I wish you the best.”

  Lord Dudgery grabbed her hand and kissed it before practically dancing away from her. She remained there, too stunned to move. Clearly he never wanted to marry her. Although relieved, she couldn’t help the twinge of hurt. Was she that undesirable of a match?

  Then reality settled in. She was no longer obligated to marry Lord Dudgery. No scandal had arisen. Freedom belonged to her. She now could take her aunt’s advice and marry Jonathan. Then she would stay with him every second to make sure the curse didn’t take him from her.

  Without thought, her feet took her back toward the ballroom. She couldn’t wait another second to talk to Jonathan. Surely he would forgive her rejections of him if she only explained.

  “Yes, Lord Linwood.” Miss Glace’s happy squeal sounded through the garden. “Nothing would please me more.”

  Catherine followed the path toward the voice, knowing Jonathan was out here. Jealousy overwhelmed her. He’d brought Miss Glace out here. No more sound came from the path. Had they moved on? Or . . . Other possibilities suddenly flooded her mind. Angered by the thoughts, she propelled forward, desperate to learn why Jonathan had that woman out here alone.

  Rounding the corner, Catherine froze as her heart ripped out of her chest. Jonathan stood with his hands on Miss Glace’s shoulders and his lips pressed against hers. Catherine’s vision tinted red to see the woman slide her arms around him to hold him closer.

  She was too late.

  Tears stung her eyes as she turned and fled the scene. How could the evening turn from wonderful to horrific in such a short time? Dropping herself down to a stone bench, Catherine bit down on her fist in an effort to contain her suffering. Her life had ended. Nothing would be the same anymore.

  Hot tears spilled out of her eyes, leaving scalding trails down her cheeks. Her breathing increased until she couldn’t hold in the pain any longer. Curling up into a ball, she allowed her anguish to escape.

  She didn’t know how long she remained there until the numbness settled in. Rolling over, she lay down and gazed at the stars. The sight brought her no comfort. No happiness. No . . . nothing.

  Jonathan reined in his stallion, surveying his land with pride. Although growing up he’d resented the responsibilities placed upon him as the heir, now he couldn’t be more grateful. At Linwood, as the head of the Alastair family, he finally found his place.

  “It’s a good-looking estate,” Greyson acknowledged.

  “I agree.” Richard pulled up beside him. “It’s a shame your father never took the time to enjoy it with you.”

  “The loss belonged entirely to him.” Jonathan inhaled a deep breath, enjoying the fresh scent of the grass and sunshine. “I have decided I don’t need his approval. He always acted as if he were infallible, above reproach, but as he fell from the pedestal, I have no desire to pick him back up.”

  “I’m glad you realize that,” Richard praised.

  Greyson nodded. “That man never deserved the deference you showed him. I never understood why you gave him so many chances to change his mind.”

  “It no longer matters.” Jonathan shrugged. “Perhaps we should make our way back. I have no doubt your wives are desolate without you. Besides, soon I should be leaving to join Miss Glace and her mother for tea.”

  Richard cringed and Greyson averted his eyes. Jonathan frowned. Clearly something had occurred which he wasn’t privy to. Last night when his friends had left the ball with their wives, the women had worn similar expressions of love. What had happened between then and now?

  “Is everything all right? Are you trying to avoid your wives?”

  “No.” Greyson sounded shocked at the thought. “Although you may want to.”

  Jonathan jerked his head back. “Me? Why?”

  “Apparently, you have done something to anger the ladies,” Richard explained, shooting Greyson a look. “Brianna refuses to speak to me about it.”

  “Abigail, too, doesn’t wish to confide in me. She believes I will give you warning prior to her and Brianna speaking to you.”

  Unable to fathom what he could have done to upset both women, Jonathan remained still, surveying his friends’ pained expressions. Regardless, he refused to exile himself from his own home in order to avoid his guests. On the other hand, going straight to Miss Glace’s house sounded appealing. He shook his head. He wasn’t afraid.

  “Then let’s go find out what I did wrong.”

  “You go on ahead,” Richard offered. “Greyson and I will be along shortly.”

  “Cowards,” Jonathan muttered as he set his stallion toward the manor. He would have preferred to remain with his friends, but he suspected they were only following orders.

  After he entered his house, he was immediately directed to the study where the two women waited. His study. He sighed. Knowing Brianna and Abigail as he did, he imagined nothing they did should surprise him any longer.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” he greeted. “To what do I owe the pleasure of having such beauties seeking me out today?”

  “Aren’t you going to offer us a brandy first?” Brianna clicked her tongue. “Is this how you are with Richard? Ready to jump into business without considering his parched throat?”

  “No. He always offers refreshments to them,” Abigail answered. “I know Greyson has enjoyed more than one brandy when visiting with his friends.”

  Both females’ eyes turned to him expectantly. How did they manage to make him feel so inadequate with an expression? Normally he could manage women well, but something about these two always brought him trouble.

  Placing a hand over his chest, Jonathan adopted his most apologetic face. “Where are my manners? From the bottom of my heart, I beg your forgiveness. I would be honored to offer you both a brandy.”

  “No, thank you,” Brianna replied sweetly.

&nbs
p; Abigail brightened, sitting up straighter in her chair. “I’d love one.”

  Unsure if Greyson would appreciate him providing alcohol for his wife, Jonathan poured a fourth of a glass. At her glare, he continued dispensing liquid until she smiled. The glass practically overflowed.

  “Thank you.” Abigail took the glass and sipped, closing her eyes as if savoring the flavor.

  Shaking his head, Jonathan made his way back to sit behind his desk. “Am I allowed to inquire after your purpose now?”

  Brianna tapped her finger against her chin before responding. “We have come to lodge a complaint against your skills as host at the ball.”

  Surprised, Jonathan raked a hand through his hair as he thought over the evening. He’d never expected them to take exception to the event. Everyone he’d seen or spoken with had indicated their pleasure with the night. What had he done wrong?

  “As host, you must ensure your guests’ happiness,” Abigail lectured. “All your guests.”

  “I don’t recall seeing anyone dissatisfied, so I believe I achieved that.”

  Brianna rotated her head toward Abigail. “Add observant to the list.” Brianna’s tone was dry as she turned back to him. “Perhaps we are addressing this wrong. Do you love Miss Glace?”

  His mouth fell open. What was going on? None of this made any sense. Did they believe Miss Glace to have been dissatisfied with the evening? And how did his feelings for her, or lack thereof, make a difference?

  “I don’t see how that is relevant.” Jonathan leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Do you know why I married Richard?” Brianna asked.

  “Because you were with ch—” Jonathan dropped off, seeing the fury in Brianna’s gaze “. . . charm. Yes, I recall you were quite charming.”