by Lora Thomas
“Branson is here,” she whispered in horror.
“What?” Thomas asked, turning Catrina to view for himself.
Iris stood against the wall. Branson was whispering in her ear. Iris laughed and placed a hand upon his forearm and allowed it to travel up. Her hand lingered inappropriately long upon Branson’s chest. She then leaned in and spoke into Branson’s ear. Branson’s eyes scanned the ballroom, and he scowled as they landed on Catrina and Thomas.
“He was not supposed to be here for another two weeks,” Catrina whispered in mortification.
“Why is he here now?”
Catrina’s eyes stayed fixed on Branson until Thomas turned her. She woodenly replied, “I do not know. This cannot be good.” She turned her gaze to Thomas. “Please take me from here.”
Thomas nodded. “Just keep dancing for now.”
He waltzed her around the room, weaving through the couples until they made it to the far side of the room. And before Catrina knew what was happening, he had whisked her outside. When the cool air touched her flesh, Catrina released Thomas and swiftly walked away from the house. Thomas was close behind. He could hear her voice, yet the words were muffled.
“Miss Wilcox,” Thomas said, increasing his stride to reach her.
She did not stop. She had to get away. Get away from Iris. Get away from Branson.
“Catrina,” Thomas said, gently touching her arm.
She stopped and looked up at him. “Why is Branson here? I was to have three weeks here. Three weeks of parties and fetes. Three weeks of plays and operas and horse rides through the park. Three weeks without having to think about him or that stupid marriage he has arranged. Three weeks to plan a way to not have to marry. Now he is here. What am I to do?” she wailed, covering her face with her hands.
Thomas wrapped his arms around her. Catrina did not fight his embrace. This was not the first time he had comforted her, and she would not refuse him again. In his arms, she felt protected. Felt she belonged. How could this be? He was a thorn in her family’s side. This man had been insulting and derogatory to her on most of their encounters. This man had used her for his own personal gratification only hours after asking for another woman’s hand. Yet this was the man she had fallen in love with.
His hand stroked her hair. “I told you, if you ever need anything, let me know. I will do what I can.”
She sniffed and raised her head. “What can you do? I am my brother’s ward. There is nothing that can be done. Other than this.” She stood on her toes and brushed her lips across his. What had gotten into her? Thomas had gotten into her. Ever since that first kiss at Eden, she craved another. Ever since he had made love to her, she desired more. She was behaving like a wanton, but she did not care. When he was with her, she felt alive. She felt as if she was where she was meant to be.
Thomas did not fight her affections. He had longed to feel her lips upon his again. He had tried to erase her feel, her taste, by visiting his mistress. But not even Ivory’s attention could remove Catrina from his mind. She had invaded his soul, and he could not fathom why.
He pulled Catrina more securely in his arms and deepened the kiss causing Catrina to moan against his mouth. His breathing increased as he felt her tongue explore his mouth. His mouth feasted hungrily upon hers, and he felt his desires grow. Her hands intertwined around his neck, holding him to her. Caressing her cheek, he fought the impulse to sweep her into his arms. A laugh from behind broke the passionate encounter. Catrina placed her hands upon his chest and leaned back.
“Thomas,” she said breathlessly.
Thomas stroked her cheek once more and placed another tender kiss upon her lips. Lifting his head, he looked around. Several couples had made their way to the seclusion of the Hamiltons’ gardens. They could not be found together, for it would not end well for Catrina. He took her hand and led her farther down the path.
“Where are we going?” Catrina asked.
“To the back of the property. We will circle around and enter through the side entrance.”
“Do you think someone saw us?” Catrina was surprised by her question. She had left the ballroom with him. Of course, the guests would know what occurred. And even if they had not kissed, Lady Iris would spin a web of lies about what truly happened.
Thomas shook his head. “No. It was dark. All that could be made out were shadows.”
The couple weaved through the hedges and flowering shrubs to the side entrance. Before they entered, Catrina stopped Thomas.
“Thomas.” She swallowed nervously. “I do not know what came over me—”
He turned to face her and gently cupped her cheek. “Shhh. Do not chastise yourself. You are a smart, capable woman who knows what she wants. Do not fight those desires. Nurture them. Allow them to grow. Do not ever feel ashamed of what happened between us. Never be ashamed of your actions around me. I find your actions refreshing from the mundane ways of life. You are a breath of fresh air, Catrina. Never let anyone change you. Never.”
Before she could reply, he opened the side door and ushered her inside. No one was around the small private music room. Voices could be heard from the hallway.
Thomas smoothed down the front of his waistcoat and readjusted his cravat. He turned to Catrina and plucked a leaf from her hair. He then offered her his arm. She took his arm and allowed him to escort her out into the hallway.
Once in the passage, several guests stopped them to offer Thomas their congratulations and to gawk at the now notorious Catrina Wilcox. Catrina held her chin high. She would not allow these people to intimidate her.
A couple approached from behind.
“Lord Huntsley,” the man said.
Thomas turned. “Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton.”
Catrina pivoted. Elena was known for her candor, but in this instance, Catrina would be too. Before she could stop her words, she blurted out, “You do look like camels.”
“I beg your pardon,” Mrs. Hamilton rebuffed.
Thomas coughed to cover his laugh.
Catrina cringed. What was wrong with her?! Elena’s words echoed in her mind, “When you get around men, you do not know how to behave, and you babble like an idiot.”
“I…um…I.” Catrina looked like a mouse caught in a trap.
“Your dress, Mrs. Hamilton. Miss Wilcox and I were debating on which gown you would wear. I said you would wear a conservative camel color, and Miss Wilcox seemed to believe you would wear a more vibrant color.”
“You were discussing my gown choice?”
Catrina plastered a smile on her face. “Yes.”
Mrs. Hamilton looked down at her dress. It was a stylish tan-colored gown. Her gaze drifted back to Catrina.
“I see,” Mrs. Hamilton replied, yet there was doubt in her tone. She scrutinized Catrina. “Who might you be?”
“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Hamilton,” Thomas interjected. “It was rude of me to not introduce you. Mrs. Hamilton, may I introduce you to Miss Catrina Wilcox.”
“So you are her,” Mrs. Hamilton said, a tightness to her voice.
Catrina gnashed her back teeth together. “I am who?”
“The girl from Swindon who is staying with the Paxsleys.”
“I. Am.”
Mrs. Hamilton impolitely turned her attention away, blatantly ignoring Catrina to address Thomas. “I hear you are engaged to wed Lady Iris.”
Thomas’s eyes belied his smile. “You would be correct.”
“And how does Lady Iris feel about you escorting this woman about my home?”
Catrina opened her mouth to respond to the insult, but Thomas spoke.
“I genuinely do not care what Lady Iris thinks. To be honest, her opinion matters very little to me. Yet everyone seems to strive for her approval. I cannot fathom why. She has a tendency to spin tales on others she sees as inferior to her. Take Miss Wilcox, for example. Did you know she is a scholar who excels in history?”
“Well, no, I—”
“It is true. She
aided Mr. Arthur Heath—you remember him, do you not? His grandfather was the Duke of Rockwell. Anyway, she assisted Arthur in the physics and intricacy of placing mirrors to properly catch the sunlight to illuminate caves in Eden. This way, the elaborate artwork inside will not be tainted by soot and smoke from lanterns. It was her idea, if you must know. And during her time at Eden, Miss Wilcox also discovered several ancient Roman mosaics whose value far surpasses those in your collection.”
“I did not know,” Mrs. Hamilton said.
“It just goes to show you,” Catrina needled. “Do not jump to conclusions about a person’s character based on the rumors that circulate around their name. Especially those started by Lady Iris.”
Thomas bowed and bid his goodbye. “Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton.”
He escorted Catrina down the hallway.
“I cannot believe you insulted Lady Iris that way,” Catrina said.
Thomas gave an indifferent shrug. “It is true. But what I cannot believe is that you spoke out loud what everyone thinks.”
Catrina proudly raised her chin. “I did. I will not allow Lady Iris to bully me.”
“Not that. About the Hamiltons looking like camels.”
Heat crept up Catrina’s cheeks. “I did not mean to. Elena always said that when I get around men, I babble like an idiot.”
“I have not found that to be the case, Miss Wilcox. You seem to have your wits about you when we speak.” He tilted his head towards her. “Now, when you attack me, that is another matter.”
Catrina giggled. “I am genuinely sorry about all those instances.”
“I know. But I find they add to your character. What other woman can wield a parasol sword as skillfully as you?”
“Elena.”
“She was a close second.”
Catrina laughed. Her laughter faded when she spotted Branson looking around the ballroom. No doubt searching for her. Let him!
“You know, I had no desire to partake in Lord Hawke’s scheme. However, with Branson present, I have reconsidered.”
Confusion pulled Thomas’s brow. “What of your reputation?”
She proudly raised her chin. “I no longer care about that. Perhaps it will reach Swindon and ruin my chances of marriage to whatever ogre my brother has chosen. So let us dance and drink until we can dance and drink no more.”
“Then, I will get us a drink.” Thomas kissed her hand and walked into an adjacent room.
Catrina meandered around the hallway, looking at the paintings upon the wall. She neared the door Thomas had entered and heard him speak.
“Catrina is a good tumble. But nothing more.”
The breath caught in Catrina’s throat as her hand came to her chest, tears stinging her eyes. Why would Thomas say such things? Laughter drifted around her, and she looked about. It appeared like everyone was looking at her and laughing. Her head began spinning like an eddy in a tide. Stepping away from the door, she realized that he had duped her again. She was a fool! She had to get out of there!
Thomas could not contain the smile upon his face. He found Catrina to be a most suitable companion. She was nothing like Iris. He adored her wit and charm and the uncharacteristic way she spoke.
Entering Mr. Hamilton’s study, he noted several other gentlemen present. All of whom he knew in some fashion or form. Some personally, others by reputation.
He stopped at the buffet and grabbed two glasses of wine.
“Are those for you and your future bride?”
Thomas inwardly cringed. Turning, he spoke, “Hello, Uncle Marcum. I did not expect to see you here.”
Marcum Winters, the Marquess of Devonshaw, was a formidable man, and to Thomas’s utmost dismay, his only uncle. Like others in the Winters family, Marcum possessed auburn hair and emerald green eyes. And like Josephine, he despised Thomas.
Marcum looked around the room with boredom. “It was only fitting. I mean, this would be the only way to speak to you to offer my congratulations about your upcoming nuptials.”
“Thank you,” Thomas replied without sincerity.
Marcum took one of the cups from Thomas’s hands. “You were not going to drink this, were you?”
“No. I just like to carry goblets of wine around for no apparent reason.”
“You are just like Elizabeth with that discourteous mouth.”
“And I am like my father with my temper. Care to find out?”
“I see you have the Summers’ temperament.” Marcum took a drink of the wine. “Tell me. Why would you ask Lady Iris for her hand if you do not want it?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Is it not obvious? You escort Lady Iris here only to ignore her for your latest mistress. That is truly in poor taste.”
“I have done no such thing.”
“Really? I mean, who is that chit you have been fawning over all evening?”
“Whom I associate with is none of your concern.”
“True. But flaunting your mistress in a room full of your peers is brazen…even for you.”
“Catrina Wilcox is not my mistress.”
“Wilcox?” Marcus repeated, quirking a brow with interest. “Any relation to that Wilcox who is harassing Josephine.”
“She would be his sister.”
Marcus sipped his wine. “Ah. I see. You are doing this to aid your mother. Nothing like have a good tumble with an enemy’s sibling. Nothing can be more damaging.”
“How dare you,” Thomas seethed.
“Come now, Thomas. Think about your family. She is a comely enough wench. Just make certain that this Wilcox chit is just a good tumble and nothing more.”
Thomas ground his back teeth together. In anger, he repeated his uncle’s comment, “Catrina is a good tumble and nothing more?”
“Yes. What other reason would you have to associate yourself with someone of her caliber?”
“Allow me to be the first to inform you, Uncle, that Catrina Wilcox is worth ten of you. She is smart and witty. She has more grace and charm than any woman here. She is kind and caring. And if I hear of you or anyone tarnishing her name, I will personally see to it that not another word passes over their lips again. Understand?”
“My, my. You are quick to jump to defend her. One would think she is your intended.”
Thomas placed his cup of wine upon the buffet. “Excuse me, Uncle. I find the company in this place suddenly unpleasant.” He turned to leave.
“Leaving so soon? I thought you had more merit to you, Thomas.”
Thomas did not turn to face his uncle. Over his shoulder, he threw, “If I stay, I will break your jaw.”
“You sound just like that ill-bred passel of children Elizabeth brought into this world.”
“If you are saying I am like a St. John, I will gladly wear that as a badge of honor. I willingly take claim to being related to a St. John. But to a Winters? I find that that claim leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.”
Thomas spotted Hawke standing near the door.
Exiting the room, he scanned the hallway for Catrina.
“Have you seen Catrina?” Thomas asked his friend.
Hawke nodded. “Yes. She entered the ballroom.”
“Thank you,” Thomas left.
Joshua watched his friend leave and furrowed his brow. Something was bothering Thomas. He appeared vexed. Looking around the study, he spotted the reason—Thomas’s uncle. This could not be good.
Thomas continued his search for Catrina. He spotted her speaking to Mrs. Paxsley. He started her way but was stopped by none other than Branson Wilcox.
“Lord Huntsley. I hear congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you,” Thomas bit out.
Lady Iris suddenly appeared by Thomas’s side. A frustrated breath left Thomas. What were the odds?
“There you are, Thomas. I have been looking everywhere for you.”
“Truly, Iris? Everywhere? I thought you were otherwise preoccupied.” Thomas gave a knowing look in Branson’s dire
ction.
“I have. You, on the other hand, have been preoccupied with Miss Wilcox.”
“What I do and who I do it with is none of your concern, Iris.”
“Now, Huntsley,” Branson intervened. “There is no call for hostility.”
Thomas’s eyes lowered. “No call, you say?”
“Thomas, please,” Iris said, pulling Thomas’s arm. “You are making a scene.”
The decorum of the aristocratic elite dictated Thomas’s action. A public scene was to be avoided…unless it was needed. And now was not the time. Thomas wanted to wait until the final waltz when everyone would be in the ballroom.
“Thomas, please,” Iris said. “Do not create a scene. It will incite your temper further, and that is not needed presently for Father wishes to speak with you.”
“Hear me, Wilcox. Leave my sight before I break all formal conduct of etiquette and give you the thrashing you so rightly deserve.”
Branson opened his mouth to speak but noticed Iris shaking her head no. Snapping his mouth shut, Branson gave a heated look to Thomas. He spotted his darling little sister and left, heading straight to Catrina.
“I need to speak with you in private, Catrina. Now,” Branson ordered.
Catrina’s eyes were still glistening from unshed tears. “Hello to you, too, Branson. What are you doing here?”
“Come, Catrina.”
“No.”
Branson stepped forward and took her by her arm. “I am your guardian, and I say you are coming with me. Now.”
“I did not come with you. You were not even supposed to be here for another two weeks.”
“I had a change of plans.”
Mr. Paxsley stepped up. “Is something wrong?”
Branson shook his head. “No. I simply feel that my sister has taken advantage of your hospitality for far too long.”
“You are leaving?”
“No. I just need to have a private word with her.”
Catrina begrudgingly nodded her head. She had to get Thomas out of her line of sight, and if Branson’s sudden brotherly interest was the reason, so be it. She allowed Branson to escort her across the ballroom. Her eyes grew wide when she realized that he was purposely taking her directly in front of Thomas and Iris.
