Summers' Embrace

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Summers' Embrace Page 22

by Lora Thomas


  “Because it will be unexpected of me. If I make a public scene, then the ton will know that Lady Iris has done something atrocious. Even in the eyes of the nefarious Lord Huntsley.”

  Hawke grinned like the cat who swallowed the canary. “Then, her name will be so tainted that gentle society will never accept her.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Brilliant.” Hawke downed his drink. “Now that that little debacle is handled, I must be off.”

  “I assume you are on your way to pick up Miss Paxsley this evening.”

  Joshua nodded. “Yes.”

  “Are you certain you want to marry the chit? I mean the reprehensible Lord Hawke, a married man. It just does not sound right.”

  Hawke patted Thomas’s shoulder. “I have never been surer of anything in my life, Huntsley.”

  “Then you have my best wishes. When is the date?”

  “The end of August. I hope you can fit it into your schedule.”

  “I would not miss it for the world.”

  Hawke headed towards the door. “How much money did you lose on me?”

  “Ten pounds. But you have not walked down the aisle yet, so there is still time for you to change your mind.”

  Hawke laughed. “Not a chance, old boy. I will see you this evening.”

  Once Hawke left, Thomas’s scowl deepened. That conniving bitch! How dare Iris try to pass off that sod Wilcox’s bastard as his. The babe in her womb would have had claims to the Summers lands, and if a boy, the title! A Wilcox, no less.

  Thomas approached the mirror and adjusted his cravat. Soothing down a stray lock of hair, his gaze drifted to his desk. Approaching, he picked up the ring box and opened it. The large sapphire sparkled in the candlelight and the diamonds encircling the sapphire twinkled.

  “Henry, is the coach out front?”

  “Yes, my lord. John,” Henry said, referring to the coachman, “is punctual as always.”

  Closing the box's lid, he placed the ring in the top desk drawer and left his study. He entered the coach.

  “To Lady Iris’s,” Thomas said to the coachman.

  “Very good, my laird.”

  The coachman flipped the reins over the back of the pair of black horses. Thomas settled into his seat. He was to pick up Lady Iris at her home this evening. Could he tolerate having her so near knowing what she had planned? Could he control his temper? Could he quell the desire to wrap his hands around her throat? He had to. If he gave in to the desires coursing through his veins, he would find himself in a hangman’s noose. Despite his nobility, he would still hang for murder.

  The coach stopped before Iris’s home. Exiting the coach, he approached the house. The door opened as his foot hit the top step.

  “Lord Huntsley,” the butler acknowledged.

  “Is Lady Iris ready?” Thomas asked, already knowing the answer. Lady Iris was never on time.

  “She will be down momentarily, my lord. Can I escort you to the—”

  “I am a tad warm and will wait for her outside.”

  “Very good, my lord.”

  Thomas stepped outside and cast his eyes skyward. It was a dark, depressing night. No stars were visible. No moon to be seen. Dampness clung in the air. Fitting for his mood.

  The door opened. “Thomas,” Lady Iris called.

  Thomas turned to her.

  She draped her wrap over her shoulders. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Waiting for you,” he snapped. “I was warm.”

  “Oh,” Iris replied, descending the steps. “Are you ready?”

  Thomas opened the door to his coach and assisted Iris inside. On their ride to the Hamiltons, the pair rode in silence. Thomas fought the desire to lash out at his companion.

  It seemed like a lifetime had passed before they made it to the Hamiltons. It was a grand three-story brownstone home and was known for its extravagant gardens.

  Entering the home, the pair handed their cloaks to the attendant. Numerous people were milling about. Many nobility. Some well-off entrepreneurs. Shipping merchants. Mine owners. The couple mingled among their peers and graciously accepted the congratulations of those present. Thomas could hear the whispers behind the fans questioning why Lady Iris had agreed to wed the womanizing Huntsley, and it angered him. If they only knew…

  They entered the ballroom to the pomp and show of an overzealous introduction. Thomas felt like a prized thoroughbred being pranced around. And Iris did her part to draw attention. She was laughing overly loud and flipped open her fan so much Thomas thought it might break. And her gown only drew that much more attention. It was a gaudy orange shade with a neckline plunging so low that she might as well not have worn a gown at all. It was not a gown for a maiden or for any woman in polite society. It reminded Thomas of what the dockside whores wore.

  The second their feet hit the wooden ballroom floor, the butler announced, “Miss Catrina Wilcox, Miss Elena Paxsley, and Lord Joshua Manning, Baron Hawke.”

  Gasps and a gaggle of whispers drifted around the room. The trio caused a scene. Thomas was not certain if it was Hawke and Elena’s engagement or Catrina’s presence that caused the most whispers.

  “What is she doing here?” Iris hissed.

  “Who is that?” a person to their right asked.

  “The ubiquitous Catrina Wilcox. She is everywhere that she should not be.”

  Thomas could not tear his eyes from Catrina. She was exquisite in her attire. The gown was a simple silk crepe mauve gown, featuring a high neckline with elegant gold detailing that drew attention to her bell sleeves. A darker mauve ribbon cinched her narrow waist. She had her hair in the latest fashion—an updo with a crisp white feather woven through her dark locks.

  The spell Catrina cast over Thomas was broken when a woman by Iris said, “So that is her. She is stunning. I thought you said she was a hideous creature and covered in warts, Lady Iris?”

  It was time. Thomas pulled Iris from his arm. “Please excuse me, Iris.”

  Thomas made a direct line for Catrina.

  Catrina smiled as she entered the ballroom. It felt like butterflies were fluttering in her stomach. She should not have come, but Elena had insisted. Catrina knew the truth. Elena wanted to arrive in Lord Hawke’s carriage. The only way Victoria would allow that to happen was if Elena had a proper chaperone. Catrina got “volunteered” for that duty. She descended the stairs with all the grace she could muster. Once the group was announced, they proceeded the rest of the way down the steps. Her eyes drifted around the room. All of the same patrons of the tea were here, along with many more. A movement to her left caught her attention, and her breath caught in her chest. Thomas was approaching. She knew he was going to speak to Lord Hawke. He would never talk to her, especially with Lady Iris present. Yet his eyes were fixed on her, causing her heart to pound.

  Catrina’s mouth went dry as she watched Thomas approach. He was so handsome in his black formal attire. The matching black jacket and breeches both were formfitting, allowing others to see his well-honed physique. His emerald tapestry waistcoat was the same color as his eyes. The black satin cravat he wore only made him seem more refined.

  “Here he comes,” Elena said.

  Before Catrina could ask why, Thomas stopped before them.

  He bowed to Catrina. “Miss Wilcox.”

  Catrina curtsied. “Lord Huntsley.”

  Thomas gave a polite greeting to Hawke and Elena before returning his attention to Catrina.

  “Miss Wilcox, would you do me the honor of the first dance?”

  Confusion pulled her brow. “Of course.”

  Huntsley extended his hand.

  Catrina kept her composure. Why had Thomas asked her for the first dance instead of Lady Iris? Placing her hand on top of his, she allowed him to escort her to the ballroom floor.

  Hawke leaned in and whispered to Elena, “I told you he would take the bait.”

  “Hush, Joshua. The night is still young. When Catrina learns of what
we did, she will be livid.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? She has no idea why Huntsley will be doting over her all evening.”

  “You did not tell her?”

  Elena shook her head. “No. Not yet. She—”

  Hawke guffawed. “This is rich.”

  “She would refuse,” Elena finished, shooting a heated look at her fiancé. “She is adamant that she is to live her life out in misery.”

  “I cannot see her giving in to that notion.”

  Elena shrugged. “That is not like her. But when she learned of Lord Huntsley’s engagement to Lady Iris, the desire to defy her brother just left her. I have never seen her like this. During our time at Miss Eddy’s, she was carefree and adventurous. She took every opportunity to do something to spite her brother. Do you know she convinced me to slip out one night?”

  A wicked twinkle came to Hawke’s eyes. “Do you think she can convince you to do the same with me one evening?”

  Elena’s cheeks suddenly bloomed with color.

  Hawke laughed. “Egad, I do love your blush.”

  “Hush,” she hissed without merit. “You will be the ruination of me.”

  Hawke took her hand and lead Elena to the ballroom floor, a wolfish grin pulling his handsome features. “I believe I already have been…several times.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  A nervous smile pulled Catrina’s lips as Thomas placed his hand upon the small of her back. The music began, and he took the lead, waltzing her around the floor. She could feel the eyes of the guests upon her, and she knew what they were thinking. Why had Thomas danced the first dance with Catrina Wilcox instead of his fiancée? The vicious rumors Iris spread came to Catrina. Iris had called her an avaricious seductress, a harlot, a temptress trying to steal Thomas away. And now, the wagging tongues of the ton were feasting upon Catrina, for that was exactly what she appeared. And no doubt Lady Iris was adding fuel to their fire.

  “Are you all right, Miss Wilcox?” Thomas asked.

  Nervousness danced in her eyes. In a breathy whisper, she replied, “Yes.”

  “You do not seem all right.”

  “I am. Just surprised is all.”

  “About what?”

  “That you asked me to dance.”

  Confusion pulled down Thomas’s brow. “Why would I not?”

  “Well, with Lady Iris here and all, I assumed she would have all your attention this evening.”

  Thomas quirked his brow. “Am I missing something? I thought you agreed to this?”

  “Agreed to what?” Catrina asked.

  The tone in her voice was an affirmation to Thomas that she had no idea what was going on.

  “I am going to kill him,” Thomas mumbled.

  “Did I do something wrong? If you are concerned that dancing with me will dampen the future you have with Lady Iris, you can stop.”

  A tight-lipped smile came to Thomas. “No. It is not you, but Hawke. Are you aware of his scheme?”

  Catrina shook her head.

  “Let me ask you this. What do you know of Lady Iris?”

  Catrina’s lips worked up and down. “I would rather not say.”

  “Catrina, I need to know. Are you aware of what your meddlesome friend is saying?”

  Catrina could not hide her guilt as she nodded yes.

  “Which would be?” he asked.

  Catrina turned her gaze away from Thomas.

  “Look at me, Catrina.” When she did, he asked, “What did she say?”

  “Promise me you will not be upset. Promise me you will not make a scene.”

  “Catrina, one thing you should know about me is that I do not like public scenes.”

  Catrina licked her lips nervously. Thomas watched her tongue dance around her lips. The desire to taste her was almost irresistible.

  “That she is with child. But it is not yours.”

  Thomas’s steps did not falter. The ease with which he continued to waltz was noticed by Catrina.

  “You knew?” Catrina asked.

  “Hawke informed me this evening.” His gaze was unyielding. “I assume Miss Paxsley was the source of his information.”

  “Not entirely. It was her sister. Beatrice.” Catrina could not stop. “Beatrice’s housemaid is the mother of Lady Iris’s chambermaid. They were having a bit of breakfast before their duties…at Beatrice’s home. Apparently, Lady Iris was far from kind to her chambermaid, and the girl told Beatrice everything.”

  “Miss Paxsley’s sister takes meals with her servants?”

  Catrina shook her head. “I do not know. She just says it's useful to be kind to your help, for they have valuable information.”

  “I see.”

  The music stopped.

  “Thank you for the dance, Lord Huntsley. That was very kind of you.” Catrina turned to leave.

  “Where are you going?” Thomas asked.

  Catrina turned to him. “To find Elena. I assume you want to return to Lady Iris.”

  “I take it you know nothing of Hawke’s plan?”

  Catrina shook her head. “As I said earlier, I do not know what you are talking about.”

  Thomas offered her his arm. Curiosity crossed her face as she placed her hand upon his forearm.

  “Allow me to enlighten you. You see, Hawke does not care for Iris. And now that I know the truth of her transgressions, neither do I. Hawke has this grand plan. Since Iris duped me, I will humiliate her by spending the entire evening with her nemesis…you.”

  Catrina held her composure as anger entered her. “Never mind how poorly this will reflect upon me. I have heard the names Lady Iris has called me. Did he not take into consideration how this will reflect upon me? I know I will return to boring little Swindon in a few weeks, but rumors travel fast. I will be labeled an adulteress in my home. Does he not realize this? Do you not realize this?”

  “What?”

  “You do not know?”

  Thomas shook his head. “Know what?”

  “Lady Iris has taken great delight in shredding my reputation. She has told all that I am an avaricious seductress, a harlot, and a temptress trying to steal you away from her. She claims that I have purposely assaulted you and that we have had relations…numerous times during our stay at Eden.”

  “Catrina, I had no idea,” Thomas whispered with remorse. “Although part of her accusations are true.”

  “That is not the point, Thomas,” Catrina snapped. “How could you not?” Her eyes widened. In a reprimanding tone, she continued, “Oh, that is right, you have not socialized since returning to London. You have either been at your office or your mistress’s home.”

  Thomas became angry. His words were short as he replied, “Where I spend my time is none of your concern, Miss Wilcox.”

  “I truly do not care where you stay.” Catrina knew that was a lie. It crushed her knowing Thomas had sought affections from another after their intimacy. Knowing he still visited his mistress left a bitter taste in her mouth. She should not care. It was not like she and Thomas were engaged to marry. “But when my reputation is at stake, then I do care.”

  “Cat—”

  “I appreciate you thinking about how I would like to see Lady Iris publicly humiliated, but I want no part of it.”

  “Even if it means slighting your brother?” Thomas was not sure why he asked that question.

  Catrina’s lashes fluttered as she fought her anger and nodded. “Yes. My brother and I despise each other. I also know that Branson has visited Lady Iris and that the child she is carrying is possibly his, but I am not that type of person.”

  Thomas kept his focus on Catrina and was amazed at her decorum. “Not many women would be as humble as you.”

  “I am not like other women.”

  Thomas’s mouth twitched. “No, you are not.”

  “Now, thank you for the dance, Lord Huntsley, but I must leave you now. Lady Iris is coming.” Catrina turned and stepped away.

  “No,” Thomas sa
id, stopping her again by taking her arm.

  “Lord Huntsley,” Catrina protested.

  “I said, no, Miss Wilcox.”

  Catrina looked down at his hand and then back into his eyes. The determination in them surprised her. The cackle of whispers by nearby guests reached her ears.

  “You are creating a scene, Lord Huntsley.”

  “Then, let us create one together.”

  Before she could ask how he whisked her across the ballroom floor once again.

  “Lord Huntsley, why do you insist upon tormenting me?”

  “I do no such thing.”

  Fire flashed from her blue eyes. “You must certainly do.”

  “I beg to differ.”

  “You can think otherwise all you wish, but you do torment me. You show me kindness yet bark at me in the next breath. You show me you have a fun, carefree side and turn cold and harsh the next time I see you. You kiss me one night and ask Iris for her hand the next morning. You keep my emotions in turmoil, Lord Huntsley.”

  “I am sorry, Miss Wilcox. I did not mean to leave you in such an emotional state.”

  “Well, you have. And I do not care for it. These London women may enjoy men toying with their emotions. They may enjoy this chaos of ‘will he won’t he’. But where I am from, we do not.”

  Thomas whirled her around the room. She was correct. It was not fair of him to treat her as though she had no part in his plan to seek vengeance against Iris. “You are wise beyond your years, Miss Wilcox. I apologize if I thought otherwise. However, I know you are not like the women of London. You enjoy the outdoors. You enjoy adventure and history. You are smart and funny. You find happiness in the small things in life. The ladies in London would be better off if they included you in their circles. You would bring a brightness to their dull, mundane lives.”

  “Thank you. But do not think to sway me into your vengeance by your kind words.”

  Thomas stared deeply into her blue eyes. The depth of their color held him. “You are too smart for that, Catrina.”

  Catrina looked over Thomas’s shoulder, and her steps faltered as the color drained from her face.

  “What is the matter?” Thomas asked her.

 

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