“You mustn’t believe everything you hear,” Lord Benjamin retorted cheekily.
Cat spoke without thinking. “Oh? And so have the stories of your pursuits been so exaggerated?”
Lord Benjamin turned in his seat to stare at her. His eyes were a deep brown, and the dimple on his cheek peeked out. Her gaff forced her to look up and turn toward him. She found that this close up, his eyes weren’t just a deep chocolate but held a ring of gold near the dark pupil, which enthralled her. “I cannot comment on the veracity of any stories as I do not know what has been said.”
“Silly rumors,” her mother replied faintly from her chair, trying to change the subject.
“But you do admit that your activities included more than studying?” Cat snapped, captured by his eyes, unable to look anywhere else or respect her mother’s prodding to change the subject.
From the corner of her eye, Cat saw her mother grow pale. “Catherine, please.” She couldn’t remember a time when she’d given her mother cause to censure her.
“Of course, I admit that. I had to eat and sleep as well as study.” Those brown eyes of his twinkled as he enjoyed the verbal sparring. It had been an incredible treat to sit next to her, to brush arms as they laid down their utensils or reached for a napkin to dab at their mouths politely. He had longed to see her eyes up close, and now he finally was. They were as pure and as blue as the most perfect sapphire.
“You’re making fun of me,” she murmured. Her lips were full, with a cupid’s bow he couldn’t help but imagine kissing, no matter how inappropriate the thought was at dinner. Could she see that his eyes constantly drifted between her mouth and her eyes? Was his affection, this deep admiration that even he could not fully explain, as obvious to her as it felt to him?
“No,” he said earnestly. “I believe you were making fun of me.”
Eyes downcast, she bit her lip, which would only serve to have him meditating on their plumpness long after he left her.
Cat instantly felt horribly guilty. She had never gone out of her way to make anyone feel badly before in her life. In fact, she had always done the exact opposite. Jane sat across from her with a stunned look on her face. No one in her family knew what to say, because they had never seen Cat act like this before. “I apologize,” she told him regretfully. She could not explain why she wasn’t acting like herself nor how she continued to get into these verbal battles with him. “I didn’t mean to… I should not have spoken on such matters.”
“There’s no need for an apology,” he said lowly. “I only hope I can improve your opinion of me, as I think very highly of you. And besides,” he paused, wishing they were alone so he could take her hand, wondering if she would even let him. “I like it much better when you speak up, no matter the topic.”
“I do not know why it matters if I speak or why you would take my opinion of you into consideration,” she told him dryly. “It’s not as if we know one another.”
“Well, you are a worthy conversation partner,” he replied with a grin, and the whole table seemed to sigh in relief and laugh with him. “And,” he added with a great deal of sincerity and earnestness that had her eyes flying back to meet his again. “I have discovered that your opinion of me matters a great deal.”
“Cat never argues with anyone,” Jane informed Benjamin from across the table before Cat could reply, though she had no idea what she would have said. “It can even be annoying sometimes because she is so nice all of the time. She is truly the good sister between the two of us.”
Cat’s cheeks colored, the blush deepening down her neck and her chest. “Jane,” she murmured softly.
“I wouldn’t call it an argument,” Lord Benjamin mused. “Let’s call it a spirited debate. One I quite enjoyed, in fact.” He smiled and looked directly at Cat again, and she couldn’t help but return the smile, even if it was a bit hesitantly. Despite the fact that he had stared at her scars, his grin was contagious. Confusion turned in her belly. He was very hard not to like.
Just as soon as she realized this, she thought of all the girls he’d charmed in the same way, and the smile was snatched off her face. She had no right to take pleasure in his gentle teasing or easy flirtation, which had nothing to do with her. It was probably the same as breathing for him, his way of interacting with the fairer sex.
Later, as the cook cleared the table, which in and of itself was a bit embarrassing since they lacked servants, Lord Benjamin asked to speak to her father privately. Cat watched him curiously, wondering what in the world he could possibly have to say to her father. In the end, though, she recognized that it wasn’t any of her business, and she pushed aside her natural curiosity—the trait that helped garner her the nickname of Cat as a little girl.
After they left the room, Jane bounced on her toes. “Cat! I think he is going to ask about you.”
“What about me?” Cat replied without thinking. “Do you think I caused him such offense? Oh, I should have kept quiet. I set a very poor example for you, Jane.”
“Oh no, silly! I think he is going to ask Papa for your hand!” Jane insisted. When Cat vehemently shook her head, Jane continued, “Yes! And at the very least, I think he would like to court you! You did not see the way he looked at you. He looked like a man besotted, a man in love.”
A nervous laugh trickled out of Cat’s throat. “And what do you know of love, little sister?” Her sister opened her mouth to continue to make her case, but Cat only smiled gently. Jane had always overlooked her scars and saw only the good in her. Her little sister still believed there would be a prince at the end of Cat’s happily ever after. “I doubt it very much.”
But before she could consider it further, their mother began one of her long coughing jags. It appeared routine, if not painful, an aftereffect from the fire, until her mother let out a loud gasp of air and fell, losing consciousness.
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“It seems she doesn’t care for me much.”
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CHAPTER THREE
A Help in Times of Trouble
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The next few days were awful. Cat’s mother’s fever was not letting up, and she continued to cough up blood. It was a horrible sound whenever she did cough, and it would go on and on. Every time a fit wracked her body, it physically hurt Cat to hear it, though she would rub her mother’s back and murmur soothing words. They worried it might be consumption, which was contagious, but deep down, everyone knew that Mrs. Watson was just another victim of the fire some ten years ago. It had taken their house and Cat’s beauty, and all those things could be borne. But not this. Her father worried that Cat was overextending herself because she refused to sleep, but he had always seen her as more delicate ever since the fire. In truth, she was the strongest of any of them and took up the mantle of her mother’s care with grace and enthusiasm.
“Papa,” she said when he objected. “She took care of me. She has always taken care of me.” Cat pointed to her own neck. “She never made me feel less than. Now, I will take care of her.”
Sometimes Mama slept, but the coughing made it difficult, and she seemed to fall into some quiet kind of delirium. As the days went on, hope seemed to dwindle, even though Lord Benjamin had sent the doctor from Ripon to them. It was an incredibly kind thought, and it would have endeared him to Cat if she was less focused on her mother. Mrs. Watson had never been a woman of robust health, her lungs the worst of it.
Once, over her mother’s sleeping form, Cat whispered, “I have to believe that God has a plan.” They were the same words her mother once used to comfort her.
Now, Papa was sitting with Mama, and Jane had begged Cat to change her dress and come downstairs to have some peace and normalcy, at least for a little while.
“Miss Watson, Lord Benjamin is here to see you,” their lady’s maid informed her. Once, they’d had
a butler who would have been scandalized to have a lady’s maid open the door. Now, it was only Rose Green, who took care of most things in the house.
“Thank you, Green,” Cat told the girl as she tried to bear up under her own exhaustion. She must look a fright. She could not imagine how deep the purple circles beneath her eyes had become.
Lord Benjamin entered the sitting room, bowing as Cat and Jane curtsied.
“May I play the pianoforte?” Jane asked after they said their hellos.
Cat agreed. If things weren’t so dire, a chaperone other than her almost fifteen-year-old sister would be necessary, but she didn’t want to interrupt her father’s time with her mother, especially as Mama’s time on earth dwindled. And besides, it wasn’t as if Lord Benjamin had any sort of designs on her. How could he? She had no prospects, no title, little money. She couldn’t even claim to be beautiful with all her scars. So, Jane as a chaperone would have to do.
He sat in the chair across from her as she sat on the divan. She wore the same dress he originally met her in, and she knew her hair, though pinned back as etiquette demanded, was still a mess after laboring over her mother’s illness. It only served to embarrass her more.
“How is your mother?” he asked urgently, leaning forward to be nearer to her.
Loathe as he was to admit it, even to himself, Benjamin was not used to caring about the welfare of people who were not family. This attachment he felt toward Catherine Watson, this pull toward her, made him uncomfortable even as he recognized there was nothing he could do but follow it. He wanted to be near her, and he wanted her and the people she loved to be well. Was this what the poets wrote of? Never before had a woman consumed both his thoughts and his heart.
Cat glanced at Jane, who seemed focused on the keys of the instrument. “Not well. The doctor… the doctor you sent…” Her thoughts were scattered. “Thank you so much for that. Truly. But you must have heard that it is most likely damage done by the fire. Her delicate constitution exacerbated the condition. Still,” she added as she bit her lip in worry. “Perhaps you should not be here on the very small chance it is something contagious.”
“Never mind me.” His eyes, tender and gentle, remained on her. They made her remember the dream she’d had some weeks ago when he had cradled her in his arms, offering her much comfort. “Did the doctor offer any hope?”
She bowed her head and swallowed back tears. “He told us to prepare ourselves.” It should have been shocking, the way Lord Benjamin absconded protocol and crossed the small distance between them to sit on the divan beside her, but she had too much on her mind, too much sorrow. He took her hand in his own, caressing the back of it with his thumb.
“Miss Watson,” he murmured with great feeling. “I am so very sorry. I wish there was something I could do.”
“You have already done it by providing the doctor.” She gave him a wan smile before she glanced down at her own scarred arm and the hand he held. “Even with the best doctors, though, sometimes there is nothing to be done.” Slowly, she pulled her hand from his, as if she had only just realized where it had been. But she missed his touch as soon as she did so.
He lifted his hand as if he might touch her face and then thought better of it, because he knew he did not have leave to touch her at all. But he wanted to desperately, if only to comfort her. She cocked her head in surprise at the movement. “But…if there is anything to be done, anything at all, will you promise that you will come to me or send word?” His eyes reminded her of the chocolate treats she enjoyed at Michaelmas. There was so much liquid emotion there. She almost believed he really and truly cared. Actually, it was difficult not to believe it.
“My Lord,” she stuttered. “Thank you.”
“Benjamin,” he entreated before blurting out, “I so wish there was something more I could do. You look as if you haven’t slept in days.”
Jane fumbled on the keys at the sound of the affection in his voice and the depth of his feeling. Cat sat up straighter, a bit defensively. She looked a little dazed to find him sitting so closely to her, as if she could not remember a time when he was not beside her.
“That’s because she has not slept,” her father said as he entered the room. Benjamin moved an inch away from her so their legs were no longer pressed together. “She’s devoted every waking hour to her mother. Catherine always takes care of others above herself.” He ran a hand over his haggard face but then gave a rueful smile. “Despite the way she has treated you at times, you must believe me when I tell you she is tenacious in her caring for others.”
“Papa,” Catherine murmured, blushing a little. “Is Mother alone?”
When he told her the doctor was with her, Catherine asked to be excused to go to her as well. She was nothing if not dutiful, Benjamin noted. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be one of those she cared for, to feel that intense amount of love and devotion directed at him.
Lord Benjamin stood as soon as Catherine did. “I hope to see you again, Miss Watson, and under better circumstances. Please tell your mother she is in my prayers.”
Catherine nodded. “Thank you, my Lord.” She did not know what else to say and exited the room as quickly as possible. Had she really allowed him to take her hand? Had his thumb caressed her skin? Had they been sitting so closely that their legs touched? She shook her head as she climbed the stairs. She had her mother to think of.
“Why don’t we go to the library?” Mr. Watson asked Benjamin. He passed a hand over Jane’s head. “You play wonderfully, my dear.” Benjamin followed Mr. Watson, who proceeded to pour himself a drink. “I apologize for the smallness of the room. Our books were destroyed in the fire, but Catherine loves to read, so I have tried to procure as many as my income allows. I know it is early in the day to partake in drink, but I hope you will forgive me…under the circumstances. Would you like some?”
Benjamin shook his head. “How is your wife?” He had sensed true affection between Mr. and Mrs. Watson at dinner, and Ben himself couldn’t imagine possibly losing someone he loved.
“To be frank, I am worried. The doctor says… Well, it isn’t good. I think she had been uncomfortable long before that fateful dinner, but she is like Catherine and would never want to worry anyone. But that’s not why I wanted to speak to you.” He paused to take a sip and then immediately put his drink aside. He seemed restless, and his energy had Benjamin’s palms sweating. “Before Anne… Before she lost consciousness, you asked to speak to me. I wonder what you wanted to speak to me about.”
Benjamin swallowed. “I think it would be inappropriate to bring the subject up now.”
Though Mr. Watson’s smile was tired, it was still a smile. “If you wish to ask me what I think you may be asking me, it would bring me a bit of joy in the midst of great despair.”
Though he outranked Mr. Watson, he bowed his head slightly in respect. “If you must know, I was going to ask you for your permission to court your daughter.”
“I thought as much.”
“How could you tell?” Benjamin asked.
“I remember you as a boy on the night of the fire. I thought… And when I saw the two of you together again and the attention you paid her, I had to wonder. I had to hope that maybe, as my wife would say, that there was a purpose in all of this, that God has a plan.”
“I don’t know that Miss Watson would agree to a courtship between us,” Benjamin admitted. “It seems she doesn’t care for me much.”
“Cat has always thought that no one but us would ever care for her, could ever care for her, because of her scars. I think she believes you to be teasing her. Though now isn’t the time, I hope you won’t give up in convincing her that she is worthy of someone being interested in her,” Mr. Watson encouraged.
“I esteem her very much,” Benjamin told him earnestly.
Mr. Watson nodded, tears in his eyes. “Then I do not have to ask you if your intentions are honorable.”
Benjamin knew what he was sp
eaking of. It was common knowledge that courtship was only a precursor to a betrothal. The thought of marriage made Benjamin want to loosen his collar. For him, the idea of marriage was tied to the responsibility of the title he would someday inherit. Still, his intentions were honorable. He had gone over and over it in his head, and he could not deny the connection he felt to Catherine. If this was the first step in a long line of steps to the heavy weight of his future, he could not turn away from it, because he could not turn away from her.
Then Catherine was at the door, breathless, tears in her eyes, the loveliest woman he had ever known impossibly sad and worried. “Papa. Please come quickly. Mama… she’s going.”
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4
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“Then I’ll take my leave.”
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CHAPTER FOUR
The Question
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Pritchford, Yorkshire
One Month Later
Benjamin took a deep breath as he dismounted from his phaeton, the sporty two-seater open carriage, patting one of his grays on the neck as he passed. He was notorious for spoiling his horses, and one of them tried to nose his palm for an apple or a carrot. Offhandedly, he wondered if, after the mourning period, Mr. Watson would allow Catherine to ride with him on the fashionable phaeton. Once they officially entered a courtship, of course. It was open, unlike a closed carriage, and they would not be able to do anything untoward without anyone noticing. Besides, he found he cared very much about Catherine’s reputation, which was also a first.
Regency Romance: The Earl’s Unforgettable Flame (CLEAN Historical Romance) (Fire and Smoke) Page 4
