Imitation of Love

by Sally Quilford

  If she’d dreamed about killing Celine, whilst in the fever, what else had she imagined? Had it been her mind that conjured up Xander holding her in his arms and talking to her so tenderly, begging her to live because he had so much to say to her? Had she merely imagined the things she wished he would say to her if he loved her as she loved him?

  Kitty said that he’d put her in the primrose room to watch over her, but that might have been so that she didn’t run away before the authorities could speak to her. She wouldn’t run away again. She would face up to whatever happened, even if the idea made her feel weak at the knees again.

  After she’d eaten breakfast in her room, she found she couldn’t bear the thought of getting back into bed again. She dressed and went downstairs. Griffiths was in the hallway.

  “Miss Willoughby, it is good to see you up and about again,” he said. “Miss Alyssa is in the morning room with Mr. Oakley’s aunt.”

  “I think I’d like to go out for a walk,” said Catherine, half-expecting him to block her exit. Instead he opened the front door.

  “Are you sure you’re well enough, Miss Willoughby? I could ask one of the maids to walk behind you, in case you feel poorly again.” Griffith’s kindness made Catherine want to cry. She sensed the offer was genuine and not an excuse to keep an eye on her movements. “Mr. Oakley won’t be very pleased if he returns and finds we haven’t looked after you properly.”

  “I’ll be fine, thank you, Griffiths. I won’t go very far. I just need some fresh air after being in the sick room for so long.”

  “Very well, Miss Willoughby. But do take care. We’ve all been very worried about you, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  “You are kind.”

  Catherine walked to the oak tree, under which she had sat to do her painting of Oakley Castle. The weather had changed for the better, and it was a bright, mild spring day. She breathed in the fresh air and wished she’d brought her sketchpad with her, and then remembered that she’d left it in London.

  Even though she hadn’t walked far, she felt suddenly tired, so she sat down in the grass and leaned with her back against the tree. She closed her eyes, and thought back over everything that had happened. She did shoot Celine, she was sure of it. Or perhaps she wanted to believe it because if she hadn’t imagined that, then she couldn’t have imagined Xander caring for her the way he did whilst she was ill.

  “Catherine!” She opened her eyes to see Xander crouched down beside her. His hand felt heavy, but comforting on her shoulder. “Thank God,” he said. “I was afraid you’d fainted. Why on earth have they let you come out here alone? I told them to take care of you.”

  “I wasn’t going to run away,” she said, sitting up.

  “I should hope not.” He smiled, and it seemed to Catherine that the sun shone a little brighter. “And if you had, I’d have found you and brought you back.”

  “I’m willing to face up to what I’ve done,” she said in a sombre voice. “I suppose the authorities wish to speak to me.”

  “What about?”

  “Killing Celine for a start. They’re probably more interested in me taking part in a plot to kill the king.”

  “And when exactly did you do all this?”

  “You know when. Even if you’ve managed to convince Alyssa I didn’t kill Celine, I know what happened. And you can’t possibly put the first lot of forged letters down to my fevered imagination.”

  “No, probably not.”

  “And I’m sure Mrs. Somerson will tell them about it.”

  “Mrs. Somerson told the authorities that she’d approached your brother, and then she had some ridiculous notion that you were a master forger and not Jimmy. She said her sister told her she’d overheard you admitting to it. But I pointed out, quite reasonably I think, that not only was that hearsay, so inadmissible in court, but the very idea of a nineteen year old girl of impeccable character, who’d been brought up quietly in the country, having the talent and the criminal inclination to do such a thing was ridiculous. And they agree with me. The king himself says it’s ludicrous, and he has the final word on it. In fact, having known of Mr. Willoughby’s valiant work with the Captain, His Majesty even refuses to believe he was involved. He is somehow convinced that Jimmy suspected the plot and was investigating it.”

  Catherine didn’t have to wonder who put that idea into the king’s head. “Didn’t they wonder why I was abducted and please don’t try to convince me I imagined it because of my fever. I’m getting bored with that excuse already. Mrs. Somerson will have told them.”

  “As I said, Mrs. Somerson and her sister had this notion you were a forger, hence the abduction.”

  “They might think that’s evidence.”

  “Catherine, Phoebe Somerson is a woman who will say anything to talk herself out of trouble. It’s all her sister’s fault, which is handy because her sister is dead and can’t speak for herself.”

  “Actually I think that might be true. The sister was definitely the brains behind the plot.”

  “Accepted. But then she said you were involved, which, as we’ve established is ludicrous. Added to which, she tried to impugn the character of a brave and noble young man who not only lost his life recently but who was known to have helped hundreds of people escape from France. All whilst she’s plotting to kill the king. Who on Earth is going to listen to her?”

  “How did you do manage to do that?” asked Catherine, as relief flooded through her, not only that she wouldn’t be charged, but that Jimmy’s memory would not be tainted. “Why would you convince them? It was for Jimmy, I suppose.”

  “Of course. It does mean you will have to behave yourself in future. No more forgery. Otherwise the Captain is going to spend all his time breaking you out of jail and I’m going to spend all my time lying to the king.”

  Catherine missed the significance of his words. “I’m never going to do anything like that again. I promise. I don’t think Jimmy and I ever thought of what it might lead to.” She hugged her arms around herself. “It was fun, helping the Captain, because we knew it was for a wonderful cause. But we were stupid. We didn’t ask enough questions when the new work came in.”

  “Jimmy didn’t ask enough questions. You weren’t wrong to trust him, as you’d trusted him before. He just should have made more checks.”

  “Are really you angry with him? About Mrs. Somerson I mean? Because she was your …” Catherine hunted around for the proper word and failed, “lady … and he and she ...”

  Xander, who had been crouching for some time, turned around and sat on the grass, with his back against the tree, next to Catherine. He stretched out his long legs, and crossed them at the ankles. “I might have been, if I’d known at the time. My pride would have certainly been hurt if not my heart. If he’d come to me, and told me, man to man, that he loved her, then as I considered him to be my brother, I’d have stood back. Jimmy paid for his mistake in a way I would never have wanted. She was never worth that price. Not to me.”

  “I thought you loved her.”

  “No. I’ve only ever been in love once in my life.”

  “Oh.” Catherine didn’t even want to ask him who the lucky lady was. So she changed the subject. “I am sorry I deceived you, with the guardianship letter. I misjudged you, and I was hurt and angry about Jimmy’s death. I can understand if you’re still angry with me about it.”

  “Did I ever tell you about the time Jimmy and I helped some nobles escape from France?”

  “No.” Catherine frowned, wondering where the discussion was going.

  “It was the hardest job we ever had to do. We had to travel one hundred miles on foot, and didn’t eat for days. A few times we thought the game was up and we’d be sure to die. One night, we were trapped in a barn, surrounded by Frenchies who were slowly moving in on us, and Jimmy said to me, ‘Xander, I want you to promise me that if I die, you’ll take care of Catherine and Alyssa and be their Guardian’. So whether he’d written the note or not, it on
ly confirmed what he’d already asked me.”

  “You are such a liar.” Catherine smiled, but at the same time felt tears sting her eyes.

  “You doubt the poignant story I’ve just told you? You don’t believe the word of a gentleman and man of honour?” Xander spoke with mock incredulity.

  “No! You’re only saying it because you are a gentleman and man of honour, and for that I bless you.”

  “I’m not lying, and I resent the implication that my sensitive tale of male bonding in a stressful situation is made up,” said Xander. He paused for a beat. “He also said ‘And make sure Catherine has some pretty dresses, because that black one with the darned sleeve looks terrible on her’.”

  “And you say women chatter! It’s a wonder, with a conversation lasting that long, that the French didn’t find you in that barn.” Catherine hardly believed that after so much anguish and fear she would be able to laugh so easily. “Did he read passages from the Bible too? Lead you all in a rousing chorus of battle hymns?”

  “Jimmy was my brother at arms, Catherine,” Xander said more seriously. “He might not have asked me to care for you and Alyssa, but that was probably because he knew without having to ask that I would.”

  “You’re really not angry with me anymore?”

  “I never was.”

  “But you said…”

  “I know what I said. It was my clumsy way of trying to protect you. I thought that if I made you feel ashamed, you’d never do anything like it again, and then you’d be safe. I should never have said the things I did. Will you forgive me?”

  “Forgive you? There’s nothing to forgive. I was the one who…”

  “Took care of your sister when no one else would,” Xander said emphatically. “I can’t pretend I don’t wish you’d have trusted me to help you both when Jimmy died, but given the impression you had of me, from the opinion I have allowed society to hold, I can hardly blame you for that.”

  As he spoke, Alyssa and Harrington came out of Oakley Castle and were walking along the terrace, arm in arm, closely monitored by Aunt Harriet, who walked behind with a beatific smile on her face. They waved to Xander and Catherine, who waved back.

  “I hope it’s acceptable to you,” said Xander, “but I’ve told them they don’t have to wait out the Season to marry. Andrew has been Alyssa’s rock these past few days, and I know she loves him more than ever.”

  “I’m very happy for them,” said Catherine. “And it will be nice to attend a wedding, after all the pain of the past months.”

  “A double wedding in fact.”

  “A double wedding?” Catherine felt a cold hand grip her heart.

  “Oh yes, I haven’t told you, have I? Of course I’ve had to assure His Majesty that your name won’t be mentioned in any other scandals, and the best way to do that was to find you a husband. Which I have. If you think he’s good enough for you.”

  Catherine jumped up from the ground, feeling her head spin as she did so. But she was better than before, and relieved to know she wasn’t going to faint. “No!” she cried, starting to walk away.

  Xander jumped up and followed her, catching her arm and spinning her around. “No?”

  “I don’t want to marry anyone, because there isn’t anyone who could be good enough for me. At least not the one I want. I love you, and whilst I know you might never love me because of the things I’ve done … even though you’ve been wonderfully kind and understanding about it all … I can’t bear the thought of being another man’s wife when I love you so dearly. I’d rather go away, and live alone than…” Before Catherine could say anymore, Xander had pulled her into his arms and was kissing her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, and then her lips again.

  “Do you really think I’d trust anyone but the Captain to keep you out of trouble?” he said, when he’d reluctantly stopped kissing her. She clung onto him, afraid that she really might faint then, even though the spinning in her head was a much more pleasurable sensation than before. “Darling Catherine, when I found out they’d taken you, and then when you were ill, I thought I’d lost you before I could beg for your forgiveness for how badly I treated you. I prayed to God every night you were ill that he’d give me the chance to tell you how much I love you.”

  “You do?”

  “More than life itself. Why do you think I wanted to stop doing the forgeries?”

  “Because it’s illegal and immoral?”

  “Well, yes, there’s that. Though looking at you it’s hard to believe you’re capable of being either. But also because Jimmy learned the hard way that not everyone can be trusted to be doing the right thing. The thought of you being hurt … as you so nearly were…” He held her tighter still.

  “But when you kissed me in the garden at Oakley Mansion, I thought you despised me because I let you.”

  “No, I was disgusted with myself for taking advantage of you. You’re so young Catherine, and Phoebe kept calling me your father, which made me worry about the age difference between us. I wanted you to have a chance to find someone of your own age.”

  “I don’t care about the age difference. I don’t want anyone else, Xander. Only you.”

  “And I only want you, my love. I realized that when I saw you walking away from Oakley Mansion. I told you I’d only ever been in love once. I was talking about you, my darling.”

  “Do you really mean that?”

  “Every word. And because of that, I’m not going to do anything to put you at risk again. The Captain has hung up his mask. The war will be over soon anyway, so he isn’t going to be needed for much longer.”

  “I’m afraid the Captain might get bored with me.” Catherine lay her head on his shoulder, feeling as if she’d finally come home.

  He kissed her forehead and chuckled. “I have a feeling you’ll be one of his most challenging missions.”

  “I fully intend to be,” she said, smiling up at him mischievously. “To make sure you aren’t tempted again by the Pheobe Sandersons of this world.”

  “Never.” He stroked her cheek tenderly, and then kissed her for a long time. Finally he raised his head slightly, and murmured against her lips, “Why would I seek an imitation of love, when I can hold the original in my arms?”

  The End