Regency Romance: The Earl’s Unforgettable Flame (CLEAN Historical Romance) (Fire and Smoke)
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Another voice added, “She is sure to yield him some favors for the attention he showed her tonight. You know it does not take much for an ugly girl to….”
Catherine shut her eyes, wishing she could stop time, before she heard a third voice. It was low and smooth and confident and interrupted the ugliness that was about to spill from one of their mouths. “Hello, girls. Lovely to have you here. I see your hobby of discussing others in such disparaging matter has not changed since the last time we met. I knew there was a reason I did not associate with you. I could not recall it. Thank you for reminding me.”
“Lady Julia, it’s a pleasure to see you,” one of the voices responded with some enthusiasm. Though she had been thoroughly insulted, it was clear she still wanted to be on decent terms with the sister of the future Earl of Wembley. Although Cat could not observe the scene directly, she knew it was Ben’s twin sister, Lady Julia, who had interrupted the ugly gossip.
“I wish I could say the same,” Julia replied in what at first seemed like an overly pleasant voice but also held some threat. “But when you talk about my brother that way, we have a problem between us, and I do so hate to have problems with others. Furthermore, when you talk about another guest who we invited into our home, calling her a deformed thing, I am brought to the opinion that you either completely lack manners or you are entirely stupid. Or maybe… Maybe you are jealous because you see what is clear to us all… That my brother has eyes only for her. Would you care to enlighten me on which of these choices is the reason you have decided to be so vile?”
“Lady Julia, I noticed you didn’t bring an escort here. Is there no one willing to take on someone as prickly as you?” It was the first voice, just as mean and just as cutting as before. Catherine shifted slightly so she could take in Lady Julia’s countenance. She was beautiful, dark hair and eyes like Benjamin, appearing perfectly relaxed in a white gown. Though Cat was grateful that Lady Julia had stuck up for her and most especially Ben, she would not want her to be attacked for it.
“I readily admit that I am prickly,” Julia retorted as she smiled, though it wasn’t the smile she would bestow on a friend. “And unlike some, I also happen to be quite picky. That’s not an insult but a compliment, so I shall thank you while also warning you. A man would have to be mad to marry a viper like you. Goodbye, ladies.” She looked over her shoulder to throw out one more comment. “And that deformed thing you mentioned has a name. It’s Miss Watson. You should learn it, since as far as I am concerned, I would love to have her as a sister-in-law. You called her ugly, which is obviously a wrong opinion. But more importantly, by calling another woman, a perfectly nice woman, a gentleman’s daughter, ugly, you make yourself ugly. How utterly horrible your life must be for you to speak so. I shall pray for you.” She paused and arched an eyebrow. “Goodbye.”
As Lady Julia meandered past that awful group of women, cutting across Catherine’s line of vision, a woman she had never even been properly introduced to but properly defended her nonetheless, Julia offered her a wink before gliding off.
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12
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“It isn’t a matter of love.”
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CHAPTER TWELVE
The End of it All
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Cat was desperate for air. She wandered through the throngs of people until she found a pair of open doors to the terrace. She was suffocating. In coming here, she’d opened her heart to the possibility of love for the first time. She had believed that despite her concerns, her admiration and love for Benjamin would be more than enough. Instead, her worst fears had come true. She took deep breaths as her hands gripped the stone wall.
She did not care about herself. It was not the first time people had been cruel to her, but she had to think of Benjamin. She had to think of his reputation and the life he should live, especially when he had subtly mentioned marriage after their dance.
“Catherine.”
Benjamin’s voice surprised her so fully she turned toward him quickly, almost falling over. She didn’t even think to correct his faux pas of calling her by her given name. The moment reminded her of when he had startled her that day in the garden a month after her mother died. She had rejected him then, poorly. Perhaps, if she was being romantic, she had broken his heart. She would have to be more careful tonight. She would kind. She would be sure he knew that she was doing this all for him.
“Are you all right?” he asked as she tried to get a full breath out as her chest heaved in its bodice. What was happening to her? She couldn’t breathe. She shook her head and a little wheeze came out. She had not realized how badly her nerves were affecting her nor how much the idea of living a life without Benjamin hurt her.
Benjamin was worried about her breathing, as her chest rose and fell in her gown at a rapid pace. She could not catch her breath, and he would have gone for help, but he could never leave her. He took both of her hands in his, clutching them to his own chest where his own heart beat. “Try and breathe if you can. Nice and slow. In and out. There you go. You’re all right,” he promised himself as much as he promised her. What would he do if something happened to her? “Darling, just keep breathing. There. You’ll be all right, Cat.”
Her heart fluttered in her chest at the use of both the endearment and the nickname. Slowly, the dots in front of her eyes faded, and her vision cleared. She realized she was nearly in Benjamin’s arms. “Lord Benjamin,” she whispered.
“Ben,” he insisted softly, keeping her in his embrace, clutching her hands tighter to his chest, relishing the feel of her skin on his. “You should sit down. What has happened?” He brought her to a bench, but if she wished for distance to make what she was about to say a little easier, she didn’t have it because he sat closely to her, her hand in his. “I was looking for you for a second dance. I was impatient. And then I saw you leaving the ballroom. You looked distressed. What happened?”
“I was distressed,” she admitted, removing her hand from his, though she could not bear to move away from him. “But my distress was only for you, not for myself. You see, I allowed myself to dream of what life could be like, and in doing so I hoped and therefore gave you a reason to hope,” she whispered brokenly. “And I was quickly brought back down to earth.”
“What happened?” he repeated. “Let me help you. Please tell me how I can help.”
She stood, rushing away from him to place her hands on the stone wall. “You cannot help me. And I’m afraid I have to let you down. Neither of us can go back in time to when someone decided to set our house on fire, a fact I recently learned, and changed my life forever.”
He took a step forward and took her shoulders in his hands from behind. His heartbeat was loud in his ears. He wanted to defend and protect her. He wanted to know who had done such a thing. And though she was right, he could not go back in time; he wanted to and the uselessness he felt nearly unmanned him. “It was arson?” His voice was shocked and furious. “Someone did that to you—to your family on purpose?”
“I only just found out of that possibility myself. I don’t know why I mentioned it,” she babbled. “I suppose I am trying to put off saying the thing I do not want to say while trying to explain why I must say these things to you.” She took a deep breath, still feeling a tightening in her chest. “It’s strange, though. If not for that fire, we probably would not have met in the first place. And if not for that fire, I wouldn’t be so deformed that any connection between us would be wrong.”
“Deformed?” He touched her cheek. “Cat. That isn’t true.” He turned her toward him, lifting her scarred hand to his lips, though he did not notice which he kissed. “And there is nothing wrong with a connection between us.”
“How can you say that?” she cried. “I am only repeating what others called me tonight. And I do not care except they spoke badly of you because of m
y deformities. My scars, my lack of beauty, would reflect poorly on you. It is not befitting someone of your rank.”
He took her face in his hands. He felt very desperate, as if his happiness was being ripped from his hands, and he was doing everything to keep it. “Do you think that matters to me?” he asked passionately. He added quickly, “Who was this? I’ll throw them out. Their words reflect poorly on them, not on us!”
“There is no us!” she cried and broke away from him. “Can’t you see how impossible this is?”
He turned her back toward him, grasping her waist in his hands. She claimed it was impossible, but even now she gripped his forearms, not wanting to let him go. “Tell me who said this.”
“It’s of little consequence who said it. And it may not matter to you, but it matters to your peers.” He was so handsome. There was an ache opening up inside her as she realized it was the last time she would touch him. She tried to memorize every single detail of his countenance. “I wish it were different. Oh, how I wish it. I wish you could court me as if I were normal.”
He took her shoulders into his hands, bringing her closer. “I don’t want to court you anymore. And you aren’t normal. You are the most wonderful, beautiful creature I have ever known.” She shook her head as he brought her closer. His lips were against her throat, near her ear as he admitted, “I’m falling in love with you. I want to marry you.”
She closed her eyes, both against the intensity of his feelings and the touch of his lips to her skin. “Don’t you see? It can never happen. It isn’t just your peers. What would your family say? What would your parents say?”
“It doesn’t matter to me!” he continued passionately, bringing his lips to hers. His thumbs brushed her cheeks as her eyes fluttered shut. She leaned into him, twining her arms around his neck as they kissed, breathing one another in. He took his mouth from hers with a desperation he had never felt before. “Catherine. Will you marry me?”
“It should matter to you,” she insisted. “Everything I have said just now should matter to you.” But her hands betrayed her as they sunk into his hair, which curled over his collar.
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care!” His chest heaved against hers as he went on. “I only need to know if you love me… if you will marry me.” His lips touched her cheek, her forehead, her closed eyelid, the side of her nose. “Please.” His hand caressed her throat as his eyes beseeched hers.
She shook her head, one lone tear streaking down her cheek. He caught it with the pad of his fingertip. “I can’t,” she choked out. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for coming here and giving you hope. For letting myself hope. It was cruel to us both. But I know… I believe with time; you’ll find someone else.” Then she attempted a joke to keep from weeping. “And in the meantime, I’m sure there are plenty of women who would enjoy your attentions.”
He let go of her slowly, his arms sliding away from her as he took a step back in shock. “So, we shall talk about the rumors of me now? It is true that I have not conducted my life as I would have if I had known that someday we would be together. I did not know…” He choked over his next words. “Forgive me. I thought that was in the past.”
“I was only trying to make a joke…” Catherine told him feebly.
“I don’t think it is a joke to you,” he insisted as he ran a hand through his thick hair. “I think my past matters to you just as much as your scars do. You deny both. You say they do not matter to you, that you are protecting me, but I think the only person you are protecting is yourself. You are the only one who thinks your scars matter. Apparently, my past falls into that category as well.”
“Well, of course it matters to me that you could have any woman and that you probably have. If we were to marry, which we can’t, how disappointed you would be on our wedding night!” She had turned away from him in embarrassment to speak of things, but now he spun her back toward him. She was blushing uncontrollably at the mention of any wedding night at all. After a moment of tense silence, his hand traced its way down her scarred arm so slowly it made them both ache.
“You underestimate me. You underestimate yourself.” He paused. “Perhaps it is ungentlemanly to say, but if you must know, I have thought of our wedding night before. And never once have your scars crossed my mind.”
She closed her eyes at his touch. “I cannot believe that.”
“So, there is nothing I can say to convince you?” he asked as he brought her nearer. “I can no longer believe you do not have feelings for me. I can feel it in your touch… in the way you look at me. Is it that you have decided it is wrong to have these feelings or you won’t allow yourself to have them?”
Her gaze drifted to his lips. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it does,” he whispered, holding her as close as possible as he looked down at her.
Her eyes fluttered shut. “It would only hurt us both for me to speak of my feelings to you.”
His heart was breaking apart in his chest as he leaned his forehead against hers. His hand on the back of her neck forced her to look up at him. When they kissed, it felt like the most exquisite torture. But he pressed onward, though he had no right to, backing her up against the wall, not allowing her breath as his lips moved relentlessly against hers. If she had not responded, he would have let go, but she did, most ardently. She let out a moan, which would have embarrassed her if her mind was not so captured by his lips, if she had not been so intent on matching his passion. Her arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer so that if the sun would have been out, they would have been one shadow, wrapped around one another like vines.
“Benjamin,” a voice called out, shocking them both to pull away, the both of them out of breath. “I don’t think it would be best for someone else to come along and find you and Miss Watson alone together.”
“Jules,” Benjamin ground out between his teeth. Though he knew they needed to stop, he hated that they were interrupted. It also meant this conversation was at an end.
“I’m sorry,” Julia replied contritely, and it was clear she meant it. “But I would be glad to see a happy ending for the both of you. And it would be harder for that to happen if there was even an appearance of a scandal. You must know that, Ben.”
“Miss Watson’s reputation is impeccable,” Ben replied defensively.
“I do not doubt it,” Lady Julia snapped. “But perhaps you should try to keep it that way so you may have a future together.”
“Pardon me,” Catherine interrupted. She turned toward Ben. “Your sister is right. Our actions are not correct. And besides, our conversation is at an end. I’ve given you my answer. There is nothing left to say. There is nothing left to be done.”
“So, that’s it?” he asked her, staring into her eyes. “After everything… You will not…”
“I cannot,” she corrected. She could see his pain. Its twin echoed in her own chest. “It has to be the end.”
“I cannot keep trying. I cannot keep asking you to be rejected, only to then be offered some type of hope from you that has me renewing my advances. We cannot go on thusly.”
“I know that,” she whispered brokenly. “We are in agreement.”
For a moment, it appeared as if he would argue, but then he closed his eyes before opening them again, nodding, his eyes colder than she had ever seen them, and turned crispy on his heel to walk away. His back was proud and straight, and it made her want to weep.
His sister, Lady Julia, who had made herself inconspicuous during the end of their conversation, walked closer to her. “I don’t know you very well, Miss Watson. But I do know my brother. And he loves you. You must see this. If you don’t share his feelings—”
“That isn’t it at all!” Cat cried. “It isn’t a matter of love.”
“Then what’s the problem? You love a man who loves you, who wants to marry you.” She smiled at her own expense. “Believe me, something like that doesn’t just come around every day.”
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13
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… this pain came from a much deeper place…
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Intervention of Siblings
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Ben stayed at the ball to appease his parents. His father didn’t look well, but he had insisted on attending, and Ben had been glad earlier in the night because he hoped that if Catherine attended, he could introduce her to both of his parents. Obviously, that wasn’t to be. Obviously, many things he hoped for would never come to pass now. He scowled, which prevented any mother or father from carting their daughter over to him to be introduced.
He ran a shaky hand through his hair. He was sweating. A part of him wanted to punch something. He had not planned on proposing. He did not wish to completely give up his freedom. But his heart had overwhelmed him, just as his feelings for Cat had overwhelmed him. His sister had encouraged him to speak of love, and look where that got him. The thought of being without her, the thought of being with another woman, left him feeling completely empty.
He didn’t think he was necessarily husband material, but he knew he could be a good husband to her. He wanted nothing more than to be given the opportunity to try. But she would not give him that opportunity. Over what? Something she overheard? Her scars? Which did not mean a thing to him? Although clearly, they mattered a great deal to her. He knew that for a woman like Catherine to speak aloud of what a wedding night would be like meant that there was a great deal at stake. It also meant she had thought of what marriage to him might be like. And still, her scars stopped her.