“Yes… I-I understand.” Catherine began shaking again, and Crispin pulled her close and rubbed her back until she calmed.
“Are you better?” She nodded. “Do you feel like you can go downstairs with me?” She nodded again and took a deep breath.
“Smile, love. We will get through the se’nnight, and then I’ll see you safely home.”
“Thank you, Crispin. You’re a good friend.” She truly believed what she said, but her heart broke a little more when she realized he only cared for her as a friend.
Crispin, though, was having a problem with just being her friend. For the first time, he was recognizing that not only was she a lovely young lady, she was also a very lush, desirable woman, and they were at a house party that promoted lust. And he was having difficulty keeping his at a manageable level.
***
For two and a half days Crispin fended off the worst of the rakes and left the impression with them he was sleeping with her and she had no interest in any other man. That worked for a while until one of the libertines, Lord Baskin, offered him £500 pounds to change places with him in the night. Crispin just laughed and sneered at him, “You can’t give her what she wants” and walked away from him. The second night Crispin had hidden in the alcove and watched her room to keep her safe. The whole situation was turning into a nightmare.
The evening of the third day, Catherine began to feel ill after supper and asked Crispin to escort her to her bedchamber.
"How do you feel, Cat?" inquired Crispin with a frown on his face as he held her elbow and led her up the stairs.
"I don't feel well at all. I…don't know what is happening to me. I…feel disoriented."
Crispin opened her door, led her through it, and shut the door behind him. Then, he slipped his arm around her waist and drew her closer to him.
"Wh-what are you doing, Crisp?" Catherine put her hand on his chest and started to push him away, but she had no strength to do it.
"Cat…you are so beautiful. I…" his voice trailed off and lust took its place. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her ear, her cheek, her chin and then nibbled on her lower lip.
Cat gasped, closed her eyes, and responded to his kiss. His tongue pressed her lips in an invitation to open, and she did. His passion continued to build as she put her arms around his neck and leaned into his kiss. He couldn't believe it as she matched his passion with hers. Cat is an innocent? All thought stopped as he picked her up and took her to her bed and began unclothing her, touching her everywhere as she continued to respond. Then he forgot everything except having her beneath him, and he did the unthinkable.
Chapter II
When Crispin awoke with a headache after taking a woman two more times, he checked the clock on the mantel. It was nearing dawn, and he needed to leave the bedchamber and sneak back to his own. He knew he had had intimate relations with a woman more than once but couldn’t remember who the woman was. So, he leaned closer with the lit candle and was horrified to discover the woman was his friend Catherine Benton. "No, not Cat, sweet Cat." He shook his head. What happened to me? Everything was clear that he had had been with her as evidenced by the bloody towel he had laid her upon. Cat had been a virgin but was no longer. He had ruined her for any other man. He pulled the sheet up to cover her nakedness forgetting about his own.
As he leaned over her, Cat opened her eyes, saw him and started to scream, but he covered her mouth quickly before she woke the whole household. "Cat, it's me, Crispin. If I uncover your mouth, will you not scream, please?"
She slowly nodded her acquiescence, and he removed his hand. "C-Crispin, why are you in m-my bedchamber?"
"Cat, I'm so sorry, so sorry."
Looking down, Catherine saw she was naked under the sheet, and she cried out against one hand while she tried to cover herself with the other hand. Then her tears started when she understood what had happened. She was no longer a virgin. Had she been raped or a willing participant? She couldn't remember.
"Crispin?" a tiny voice tearily inquired. "Did you…did I…" Catherine mewled like a kitten in pain, and Crispin cringed and nodded in acknowledgement. "Why, Crispin, why?" And Catherine turned and sobbed into her pillow as the Duke of Weirlane rubbed her back and watched in misery as the young friend he had debauched died a little in front of him. He had never felt worse in his life. He put his face in his hands and felt his heart constrict as Cat's tears poured down her face. He was in total ignorance of the fact that she had loved him since they were children, and what he had done may have killed any feeling she had for him.
***
After telling Catherine he would make things right, Crispin dressed and then carefully returned to his bedchamber with the bloody towel, which he burned after rebuilding the fire. Then he sat on his bed and contemplated his miserable existence wondering how he could set matters straight with Cat. She was his friend, and he had ravaged her. They had been best friends since childhood, and he had deflowered her, deliberately. He remembered some of the night he spent with her, and the passion she'd displayed. Oh, God, it was wonderful...but she didn't understand. It was without her permission. He closed his eyes and felt like his heart had been cut out of his chest with a dull knife. He'd hurt his friend, and he had ignored the other lords who had warned him about the men here at the house party. They told me to stay away from them, and I didn't listen. This is the consequence of my perfidy. Cat will hate me, and I deserve it.
Crispin tried to sleep but couldn’t. He kept thinking of the night he had just spent with Cat and realized he wouldn't mind waking up to her beautiful face every morning. He flushed as his body responded to his thoughts of lust, not love for he didn't love Cat as he would a wife. A friend, but not as a wife. Reasoning with himself that many arranged marriages didn't even have friendship as a basis, he concluded the only way he could begin to correct matters was to offer for her, and he determined to speak with her father as soon as the house party ended.
With that decision, he slept for a couple of hours before arising when someone scratched softly on his door.
Damien came into the bedchamber with a big smile and asked how Crispin was feeling.
“Terrible. I’ve only gotten a couple of hours of sleep.”
“It was that spectacular a night? Surely sleep was not the main attraction,” replied his friend with a leer and waggling his eyebrows.
“What do you mean, Damien?” The hairs on the Duke of Weirlane’s neck rose, and an empty feeling that wasn’t hunger was felt in his belly.
With a wink, Lord Underwood slyly spoke, “I gave you and the pretty lady a boost to help your romance along a little faster than it was moving.”
Crispin didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Damien by the throat and slammed him into the door and hissed at him. “What did you do?”
His friend squeaked out that he had done nothing wrong.
More forcefully, Crispin demanded, “What…did…you…do?” and tightened his grip on Damien’s throat.
Damien began gurgling and turning red in the face before Crispin loosened his hold somewhat. After all, he wanted to find out what happened, and then he would kill him.
“You know my friend, the apothecary.” Crispin nodded. “He’s a very smart fellow. Because Spanish fly is rather dangerous to use as an aphrodisiac, he developed a formula using herbs that would be similar in results without killing the user like Fly might.
Crispin closed his eyes and tightened his grip on the smaller man’s throat, terrified of what he would say next. To his horror, Lord Underwood confirmed what Crispin suspected. He had been drugged.
“You were so protective of that pretty little Lady Catherine, following her around like a lovesick puppy. You didn’t let any of us fellas have a chance at bedding her, and I, well I…”
“Well, what?” Crispin snarled at him.
“So, I thought I would see just how good my friend’s formula worked by giving it to you and to her and finding out what would happen.”
&nb
sp; With that, Crispin nearly choked him to death, then he gave him a facer resulting in blood spurting and Damien’s nose being broken. As Crispin stood over him to hit him again, Damien cringed and raised his arm to protect himself. The duke grabbed him by his cravat and pulled him close. With rage in his eyes and murder in his heart, Crispin informed him that what he did caused an innocent to be ruined, and he had half a mind to call him out and show no mercy.
“But Crisp, why was an innocent at a house party such as this?”
“Because her father is the lowest bastard on the planet. Why do you think I’ve hovered over her and protected her from you rakehells for the past two days?” Then, he threw him to the floor, turned his back to him and growled, “Get out, and if you ever even dare to speak to me again, mention to anyone about what you did or say anything about Lady Catherine, I will call you out, and I will kill you no matter the consequences. Do…you…understand?”
“Yes…yes, I understand, and I will not say a word. I promise.” On that note, Damien fled his bedchamber.
Crispin sat on his bed and buried his face in his hands for about a half hour. He had ruined his childhood friend and there was no turning back. What should he do now?
***
Upon breaking his fast, however, he discovered Catherine Benton had left the house party. His hostess informed him she had become ill and returned home. He couldn't follow her—or leave also without someone thinking he followed her—but he could visit her home the coming weekend when the house party reached its finish. Will her father accept my offer? I am a duke, and he is greedy. He should...But will Catherine accept my hand? How will I ever make this tragedy up to her?
Chapter III
As Crispin finished telling of the incident at the house party, all four men were silent. He was totally immersed in misery, and his three friends were at a loss as to what to say to him. Finally, Matt spoke up. “For Catherine’s sake, you must offer for her. After what’s been done, she will need someone who truly cares for her.” He paused, “And that seems to be you,” he said as he tilted his head and looked sideways at the duke.
“Of course, I care about her,” Crispin blustered, “but I don’t love her. It won’t be a love match. I like her very much, but only as a friend.” The most interesting aspect of his statement was that he even wondered if it was accurate.
“You keep telling yourself that, and maybe one day it’ll be true.” Matt chuckled softly. He suspected Crisp might have loved the girl since they were children because of the way he had always protected her—and especially at the house party—and his friend had been very foolish to live the way he had for the past few years. Windmere also wondered if the duke had ever seriously thought about offering for her before now. He was unaware the man had thought to sow his wild oats and then offer for Catherine when ready to start his nursery. The duke was a fool.
“Well, if you don’t love her, you lose the bet if you marry her,” piped up Jules with a grin.
“Shut your mouth, Jil.” Fox slammed down his chair from the two legs he had been balancing on. “Circumstances are such that the bet doesn’t even enter into this. And, if it does, the terms of the bet need to be modified. I’m willing to give any one of us, who has to marry— such as Crisp—the opportunity to eventually make it into a love match. In other words, if a marriage of convenience is to protect the wife, time should be allowed to see if it will turn into a love match before the husband is declared the loser of the bet. Fair’s fair, I say.”
“I fear the wager is not the problem, Fox. Catherine will probably refuse to marry me. She won’t under the circumstances no matter what her father says. But she must marry me. Her father will throw her out of the house with no place to go if I know that scoundrel…I can’t let that happen to her.”
Matt was puzzled and wanted to know why she wouldn’t consider marrying him. “You are a duke, wealthy as sin, young, healthy, and handsome. Any woman in her right mind would marry you without question.”
Embarrassment caused the duke to flush as he said, “None of that will matter to Catherine. She’s always been able to trust me, but now our trust has been broken. And I’ve given her every reason in the world not to renew it.”
“Make her see reason, Crisp. She must marry you as it’s the only way she’ll have any type of protection. And if you got her with child…you need to wed her…and soon.”
When Fox intimated he might have impregnated Catherine, Crispin went white. He’d taken her three times, and the odds she wasn’t with child were rather low as he had taken no steps to prevent it. Crispin bowed his head and looked as if he had been blue-deviled all his life.
Crispin received another emotional blow when Jules asked, “Have you spoken to the duchess about this?”
“No…I haven’t gotten up enough nerve to see my mother as yet. She loves Catherine and, down through the years, she has mentioned several times she wished Cat was one of the family. She’s never been subtle with her hints. And she’ll never forgive me for doing this to Catherine, no matter why.”
Again, Matt was the voice of reason. Very quietly he said, “Your Grace, if your mother loves Catherine as you say she does, she will be more than willing to help you convince her of what is best. Your mother, as I recall, is a very intelligent woman and should be a great help to you. Don’t ignore her assistance.”
With his eyes closed and a look of resignation on his face, the Duke of Weirlane simply nodded. A few minutes later, he stood and thanked his friends and walked out of White’s. A short time later he braced himself to see his mother and confess what he had done.
***
The Duke of Weirlane inquired of his mother’s butler as to her whereabouts upon reaching her townhouse. The intimidating servant informed the duke that the duchess was in her private parlor, whereupon, he was thanked and told they were not to be disturbed.
Crispin’s mother looked up as her son entered the room, and she frowned and wondered what was wrong. Usually, he came into her presence with a smile and enthusiasm for life. Today…he just looked sad.
“Crispin, are you well?”
“No, Mother, things are not well.”
Patting the sofa, she said softly, “Sit beside me and tell me what’s wrong.”
Crispin sat and wondered what he should tell her. He would have to apprise her about offering for Cat. But could he tell her why? She would want to know, and as the Duchess of Weirlane, she had a right to be informed as well.
“I’m going to see the earl and ask for Lady Catherine’s hand in marriage.”
His mother smiled and started to say it was an occasion to celebrate as she had always loved Catherine Benton, but she noted that he didn’t smile. He just looked at the floor and wouldn’t meet her eyes. Something was very wrong.
“Crispin, do you have something to say to me?”
He met her eyes then, and the bleak look of sadness broke his mother’s heart. Whatever the problem, it was dreadful.
The duchess—being a patient woman— sat quietly as her son got up and paced the floor clenching his fists at his side. She remembered that as a child he would always tell her in his good time. Ten minutes came and went without a word. Then he sat at her side again and took her hand.
“Mama, I’ve done something terrible.”
And she knew things were bad because he always called her Mother as an adult, but Mama as a child. She couldn’t help closing her eyes, but she opened her heart to help her son.
“I’m listening.”
Crispin then told her everything that had happened at the house party and what he had done to Cat. And they both wept for Catherine Benton’s loss.
The duke had finally gotten on his knees and laid his head on his mother’s lap as he had as a little boy, and she stroked his hair. Then with a sigh she said, “You will marry Catherine. No one else will have her as she is ruined. If her father marries her off, her husband will bring a scandal to both our families since she is no longer a virgin.”
>
If Crispin was a little shocked at his mother’s language, he gave no sign of it. With his eyes closed, he just nodded.
She continued on, “Catherine’s mother trained her well. She will make you an excellent duchess. And she has turned into a lovely young woman. I daresay you don’t mind that.”
Crispin stood and took his place in the chair across from the duchess—elbows on his thighs, and his chin resting on his hands—unnerved somewhat by the perspicacity of his mother’s mind. The glare she gave him caused him to squirm in response. Then to his embarrassment he began to blush when his mother asked him how passionate was his wife-to-be.
“Mother, I’m shocked you would ask such a question.”
In a stern voice, with her hands fisted in her lap, his mother said, “Don’t be, Crispin. With your reputation I can just guess at what you would be willing to put up with in a wife. I don’t want Catherine abandoned by a husband who doesn’t want her, and I figure that being very passionate would be first on your list.”
For once in his life, the duke found himself shocked speechless. However, he couldn’t control the flush that spread from his neck to his forehead as his mother nodded in understanding.
“I see she meets your criteria in that area, and if I’m not mistaken, she fits it more than adequately. I am pleased she will be your wife and the new duchess.” She paused, then proceeded more quietly, “Her mother and I were closer than sisters, and it gives me great pleasure her daughter will be one of the family. When do you approach her father?”
“Tomorrow, if he is at home. I wanted to speak with you first.”
“Will you offer for Catherine before you speak with him?”
“No…I surmise Catherine will refuse me if I do.” His head hung low, and he clasped both hands together. “Her father will not and will insist we wed. The earl will not deny having a duke in the family.”
Lord Weirlane Page 2
