Catherine raised her head and regarded her sister. “But how can you possibly know? You haven’t seen him since he left.”
“Because I know Lucas. It’s not any woman that could get him to leave his country and the running of his company to someone else.”
Catherine had no doubt her sister believed that just as she believed Lucas did. She sincerely wished she believed it. That she should find the man of her dreams, a husband she’d long despaired she’d never find. Would it not have been lovely to find marital bliss just as her sister and brother had? But that wasn’t to be.
“Lottie, you don’t understand. You have Alex. For you it has always been Alex and for Alex it has long been you—probably since before you entered society. You’ve not really ever had to doubt his feelings for you. How can I ever be assured that Lucas’s feelings for me are not borne of not being able to have you?” She stared at her twin and swallowed. “I would always wonder for I could never be sure. Would he feel differently about me if there were no Alex, no man who held your heart in the palm of his hand. Would he feel differently about you if you’d accepted his proposal and you were man and wife when he first met me?”
“But he never loved me like that,” Charlotte cried.
Catherine shook her head. “I just couldn’t. And I wouldn’t subject Lucas to such a marriage.”
“But Katie, you love him. You love him. And he loves you.”
The former she could not deny so she did not, offering nothing in response. But the veracity of the latter could truly never be known. Certainly not as long as her sister remained unavailable to him, which equated to the rest of her sister’s life.
“You are twenty-five years and have been in love only once. Another love like this may never come along. Believe me I know this to be true.” Charlotte’s eyes beseeched as she held tight to Catherine’s clenched hands.
Catherine swallowed around the lump that had formed in her throat. As if she needed any reminders of that fact. And deep inside, she’d always known that when she did love, the fall would be from a prodigious height and the landing, one she may not survive fully intact. That had certainly come to fruition.
Sadly, the man she’d fallen so hard for had wanted her sister first. And men who’d reached for a crown jewel would never be content with a defective imitation cobbled together with paste.
CHAPTER EIGHT
His most excellent physician had once told him that sleep had a restorative effect not just on the body but on the mind as well. Lucas supposed it may have done had he actually been able to sleep and not fought and lost the fight as he’d wrestled with his bedding the majority of the night.
Sleep may have proved elusive, but the morning did not. The weak sunlight trying to peek through the tasseled curtains covering his bedroom windows didn’t help matters much. His disposition hadn’t improved one iota since he’d returned from seeing Catherine the day before.
In actuality, he hadn’t returned directly to the house. Unwilling to inflict his dark mood on his sisters and their chaperone, he’d found a tavern in town and planted himself at a small table for the duration of the night. He’d eaten a little around dinnertime and had drunk a fair amount throughout. But he hadn’t drunk enough that by the time he returned to the house late that evening, he’d been quickly able to find sleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
He remained abed until his valet knocked on his door at quarter to ten, only then did he force himself to rise and face the day. The prospect was ominous. His head throbbed dully behind his eyes.
At half past ten, he descended the stairs attired in shirtsleeves and dark wool trousers. Informality was the call of the day as he hadn’t any intentions of receiving callers nor would he be calling on anyone.
Upon entering the breakfast room, his sisters, who were both seated at the white-linen table eating, directed their attention to him.
The room’s dimensions fit the rest of the leased house; compact, efficient, not one inch of wasted space. He’d chosen the house because it was the nearest, fully furnished accommodations he could get to Rutherford Manor and had four decent-sized bedrooms and was fully staffed. The house seemed superfluous now. They could have gotten by just fine with his mother’s townhouse in London and the bachelor’s flat he kept there. There was nothing to keep them in Reading now.
His greeting to them was little more than a grunt as he headed straight to the sideboard, which held silver-covered dishes of that morning’s offerings.
“Good morning, Luke.” Lydia was all smiles, her disposition as sunny as the yellow frock she wore, which immediately evoked a swell of guilt for his own despondency.
He forced a smile on lips that never felt less like smiling and glanced at her over his shoulder. “I take it the bed was to your liking?”
Brown curls bounced against her shoulders as she nodded. Her unabashed enthusiasm Lucas attributed to this being her first visit to England and not the accommodations that weren’t as grand as their residence in New York.
“Very good.” He turned and began to put together a plate. After he finished, he took his place at the head of the table.
“I didn’t hear you come in last night,” Caroline remarked, her mouth poised over the lip of the teacup she held in her hand. She took a healthy sip and then picked the half-eaten scone slathered with strawberry preserves up from her plate.
“It’s obvious you didn’t remain up long enough,” he shot back smartly. Where their mother had largely exempted herself from her duties to her children, his sister believed it was a role she should assume, never mind he was fourteen years her senior.
“But where did you go? What kept you out so late?” she asked before taking a bite. She spoke as if she had every right to know.
“Where I went is none of your business,” he answered mildly.
Blessed silence reigned while she finished chewing. Lucas took that opportunity to start on his own food.
“But you always say that,” Caroline groused. At times, his sister sounded more like a petulant child than a twenty-year-old woman.
“Then it’s a wonder you continue to question me on the subject of my comings and goings.”
“Did you see Charlotte—oh dear what did you say her new name is now that she’s married?” Lydia asked.
“Lady Avondale,” he supplied.
“Yes, Lady Avondale. Did you say she is now a countess?” Lydia persisted.
“A marchioness,” he corrected, keeping his answers short for the sake of expediency. His food would be cold and his coffee undrinkable if he entertained his sisters’ questions.
“When will you take us to see Charlotte? You promised we would see her, Nicholas, and the new babe when we came.”
Lucas suppressed a sigh. He’d planned on taking them to visit today. But with Catherine actually staying with Charlotte and the marquess’ presence, he wouldn’t be able to fulfill his promise—at least not at the moment.
“Another time. My plan is that we go back to London. It’s the best time to go to the opera and theater. Once the Season starts in earnest, you’re schedules won’t permit it.”
“Why are we going back to London so soon?” Caroline asked, a distinct whine to her voice. “I’d prefer it if we didn’t have to stay with mother.”
Lucas couldn’t fault her for that. “No doubt, our mother won’t be at the townhouse for long.” Mrs. Agnes Fairchild couldn’t survive a week much less an entire three months without a man at her beck and call—and in her bed. That she was still a beautiful woman made it so that that wasn’t usually something likely to occur. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised to find she’s vacated the premises already.”
Lucas preferred that their chaperone, Mrs. White, be responsible for his sisters’ care when he wasn’t present. Left to their mother, Caroline and Lydia might very well turn out just like her. He’d made pains to make sure that didn’t happen.
“And Charlotte’s twin? What of her?” The naked curiosity burning
in Caroline’s eyes belied the nonchalance at which she issued the question.
Save the twins themselves, Lucas had spoken to no one else regarding his feelings and intentions toward her. Though given his behavior upon finding her on the terrace alone with Billings, no doubt Caroline had rightly concluded that she was more than a passing acquaintance. Much more.
“What of Miss Rutherford?” God, he himself didn’t even know. It had been those thoughts that had kept him up all damn night. What the hell was he to do now? How was he going to repair this? More importantly was this something that could in fact be repaired? If he had the answers, he’d take up fortune telling or some other such occupation that calls for being able to predict the future with a great level of accuracy.
“Will she also be coming to London?” Caroline asked, plucking her serviette from her lap and placing it beside her crumb-filled plate. Lydia’s avid gaze watched the exchange.
Lucas drained the remainder of his coffee and set his cup down on the table harder than he intended. “I have no knowledge of Miss Rutherford’s schedule.” Which was the truth.
Caroline’s brow furrowed. “But I thought –I mean I was certain you meant to court her. Isn’t that why we’re here?”
“It would appear you know my intentions toward Miss Rutherford better than I.” Both his sisters stared at him wide-eyed. He gave a weary sigh and shook his head. He owed them the truth. They weren’t children anymore. “Yes, I hoped to marry Miss Rutherford. But first, I planned to introduce her to you both properly. Unfortunately, at this time, Miss Rutherford isn’t inclined to accept my suit.”
“Whyever not?” Caroline demanded as if a woman would have to be addlepated to refuse him.
“Her reasons aren’t important.”
“But of course they are. You must make her change her mind.” The sharpness of Caroline’s tone made it an edict.
“Doesn’t she share your feelings?” Lydia, the consummate diplomat, asked quietly. While her older sister could be overly combative at times, she was the soul of temperance.
“The situation is complicated.” He had no doubt that Catherine wanted him, would’ve consented to marry him had she not learned the whole business of his proposal to Charlotte. His problem was she just didn’t trust him. A marriage could survive without trust, many esteemed marriages had. They just weren’t particularly happy marriages. And he’d witnessed enough unhappy ones in his life that he knew he would never want to be trapped in one.
“I don’t see how complicated it could be if you love her and she loves you.”
Lucas couldn’t dispute Caroline’s argument. It should be that simple. In books and fairytales that was probably the case. Unfortunately, this was real life, and with that came a myriad of emotions and complications.
Lydia pushed back her chair, stood and came around the table to his side. Leaning down, she hugged him as tightly as their positions allowed, patting him soothingly on the shoulder before releasing him. “I will always remember what you said to me when I asked you why you had to go off to war,” she said looking down at him, her brown eyes too sage for her years. She’d been forced to grow up too quickly and she’d seen too much. “You told me that if something was important enough, it was worth fighting for, sometimes worth dying for. How much does Miss Rutherford mean to you?”
If he’d been uncertain on how or if he should proceed with Catherine, with that question, his youngest sister had set him firmly back on his path.
Although his battalion hadn’t seen as much of the frontline as many others, he’d seen more than enough the year he’d been enlisted. War was dirty, deadly business and he’d been thankful to be able to walk away from it alive and in possession of all his appendages and faculties. He’d been one of the truly fortunate ones.
Lucas gave Lydia’s hand a loving squeeze. “When is the last time I told you that you are too wise for your years?”
Lydia giggled, immediately sounding as innocent as the eighteen years the calendar declared she was. “All the time.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Caroline begin to rise. His gaze snapped to her. Motioning with his hand for her to remain seated, he addressed Lydia. “I need to have a word with your sister.”
“Shall I have the maid pack our things?”
“Yes, we shall go to London. You’ll both need new dresses.” He’d give Catherine a couple days to cool down. It is alleged that absence makes the heart fonder, and he was proof of it. His feelings for Catherine were stronger now than they’d been when he’d left last year.
After Lydia quit the room, he turned his attention to Caroline, who looked slightly uneasy.
“I am having second thoughts about Lord Billings. I don’t believe you and he would make a good match,” he said tentatively. With Caroline, it was sometimes difficult to read her. When the baron had come to him to ask permission to court her, she’d appeared happy at the prospect. But to say that she felt deeply for him wasn’t something he’d go as far to say.
“Is this because you found him alone with Miss Rutherford?”
Yes. And the fact that he knew damn well the man had once courted her and still appeared to be completely taken with her. “Not entirely. I simply don’t want you to settle on the first man who expresses an interest in marrying you.”
“Do you not mean the first English lord because he isn’t the first man to express an interest,” she replied lightly, but there was something in her tone.
God yes, the year she’d come out, he’d been besieged with offers. Fortune hunters, the whole lot of them because the moment he’d told them he intended to place her dowry in trust until she reached twenty-five years, they’d awkwardly withdrawn said offer. Lord Billings had been the first to say his feelings were such that he’d take her without her dowry. In addition, the man had also come with a title—which is what their English-born mother wished for her daughters.
“I want a gentleman worthy of you. I don’t believe Lord Billings is that man.”
“Are you saying you’ve withdrawn your approval?”
Lucas knew he had to be careful in his reply. “What I’m saying is that Lord Billings may not love you as you deserve to be loved. Wholly and completely. My greatest wish is to see all of you happily married.”
“Does this mean you plan to send us home?” she asked, her tone almost hopeful.
Lucas frowned. “Of course not. Billings isn’t the only eligible gentleman in the country. I hoped you’d want to at least remain for the Season.”
His sister’s only reticence in accepting Billings’ suit was that she would have to leave New York for England. A compromise had been reached where they would live four months of the year in New York until the children came.
The truth of it was he didn’t trust their mother to guide and protect his sisters’ interests. Lord only knew what kind of men she’d permit them to associate with. If he was going to be living on this side of the Atlantic, he selfishly wanted them close. Which meant they would need to marry English gentlemen.
“I doubt I’ll fare any better here than in America,” she stated dryly. “You had such high hopes for Lord Billings and look how that has turned out.”
“At least the mistake was caught before you married the man. Look, I know you miss home but I’d like you to give England a little longer. At least promise to stay for the Season. Come May, there will be all sorts of balls and parties. Grander than anything we have in America.”
Caroline regarded him in silence. For so long a time, he began to grow uneasy. Reading her expression grew harder than ever.
Eventually, she let out an audible breath and rose from the table. “You are probably right. You’re usually right about these things. And in matter of Lord Billings, I shouldn’t like to be in a marriage where my husband is secretly in love with my sister-in-law. I mean you are my brother and it is not as if we could avoid seeing the two of you. The situation is simply not to be borne,” she exclaimed in a breathy voice, sweeping the back
of her hand across her brow in a gesture of melodramatic theater.
She smiled then and gave him a look that said, Surely you didn’t think me so blind that I could not see what was right in front of me? With a facetious curtsey, she gracefully quit the room, leaving Lucas deep in thought.
The next three days passed tortuously slow. Catherine missed her weekly visit to see Meghan and Olivia. She took the evening meals in her bedchamber, ate breakfast when she was certain Charlotte and Alex had vacated the breakfast room. The midday meal, she tended to skip entirely. She was as close to a hermit as she’d ever been.
But she couldn’t help it. Her heart was broken. The dreams she’d only just begun to build had already collapsed around her, its foundation as solid as the shifting sands at high tide. She hadn’t even known how much she’d counted on Lucas being the “one” for her. Her own knight come to carry her off and give her the things that had thus far evaded her in her life. Someone to love, someone who evoked within her a passion she’d never felt before. And as his wife, they would start a family. Those two things had been everything to her. A family of her own. A family like she’d never known. Hers.
On the fourth day, she dragged herself out of bed right after the maid came in her room to draw the curtains and refresh the coal in the fireplace. Esther came in five minutes later and looked surprised to see her out of bed.
“’Morning, miss. I didn’t ‘spect you to be up ’an about so soon.”
“I thought it was about time I returned to the living. I’m too young to waste away in this bedroom. Today, I think I’ll even go outdoors. Maybe I shall go and see how construction on the school is coming along.”
“The missus ’as been asking ’bout you. I’m to tell ’er if you aint eating.”
Catherine smiled faintly. Charlotte had been checking in on her at least two times a day since her self-imposed exile. “My sister worries needlessly. I’ve merely been suffering the normal monthly issues. A couple days of rest was all I needed. I’m hardly ailing in the real sense of the word.” The onset of her monthly courses could not have come at a better time. It had given her a valid excuse to remain in bed for she did suffer from stomach cramps during that period.
Twice the Temptation Page 9
