by Lora Thomas
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Wait. I am confused. You were going to marry Lady Iris because she was carrying your child.”
A deep sigh left Thomas. “I have to marry. I did not know this until days before leaving Swindon. Josephine told me. I wrote my lawyer, and he sent a reply while I was at Eden and verified my mother’s claims. I do not want my mother to have my father’s lands or wealth.”
Concern caused her blue eyes to darken. “But how? I mean, Branson will not allow it.”
“Scotland does not hold the same laws of marriage as England. We will slip away to Gretna Green.”
“Why would you want to marry me, Thomas?” She shook her head. “No. That is not the question I want to ask. What I want to know is why you said all those outrageous things about me at the ball last evening?”
“I have never spoken poorly about you.”
Despite the somberness of the prior conversation, his denial caused her temper to come to a head. “I heard you, Thomas. You said I was ‘a good tumble and nothing more.’ I heard you.” The pain of heartache caused her voice to crack.
Thomas caressed her cheek. “I never spoke of you in such a fashion. I was speaking to my uncle last evening. He said those words.”
She pulled away from his touch as if it burned her. “No, it was you, Thomas. I heard you say it! Not anyone else.”
“I was repeating what my uncle said.”
“You expect me to believe that rubbish? I am not stupid, Thomas. I have been warned about men like you. You are only after a ‘good tumble’ and nothing more.”
“Dammit, Catrina! I did not call you a good tumble. If you had stayed around, you would have heard me defend you. Uncle Marcum is not the most agreeable person. Everyone he meets, he degrades or finds some minor reason to belittle them.”
“Really, Thomas. Do you think I am so easily fooled?”
Thomas shook his head and took a deep calming breath. This conversation was getting out of hand. “No. You are the most intelligent woman I have ever met. I could no more hope to fool you than I could hope to stop the wind from blowing.”
“Thomas—”
“I would never lie to you, Catrina. I never have. Uncle Marcum is a mean, ill-tempered bastard. He does not care who he hurts. He was the one belittling you. Speaking badly of you. I repeated his words but defended you, Catrina.”
Thomas appeared genuine in his words. Despite Catrina’s head telling her he was lying, her heart said otherwise.
“What a disagreeable person,” she said.
Thomas shrugged. “Most of my mother’s family is the same way. The only one who is not so disagreeable lives four thousand miles away.”
“Who might that be?”
“Elizabeth St. John. She had enough sense to leave this degrading family.”
“If it is so bad, why do you stay?”
“My father was the main reason. Now I stay because I have nowhere else to go. All my friends are here. My work is here.”
“I am sorry your family is so wretched. It seems we have a great deal in common in that aspect.”
“We do. So, have you considered my proposal?”
“It was not much of a proposal. It sounded more like a business arrangement.”
The corner of Thomas’s mouth twitched. “I can rectify that.” He approached his desk and picked up the ring box. Turning, he walked back to Catrina and knelt down on one knee. Opening the box, he asked, “Catrina Wilcox, will you marry me?”
Catrina could not contain the startled expression that crossed her face. Thomas was actually asking her to marry him. Her gaze drifted to the sapphire. It was stunning. No wonder Lady Iris demanded it. And now, he was offering it to her. Catrina chewed her lower lip in thought. This would solve all her issues, except for one…she wanted a loving husband. She looked in Thomas’s eyes. Perhaps, he would come to love her.
She nervously licked her lips. “Yes, I will marry you.”
Thomas removed the ring from the case and slipped it over her finger. It fit perfectly. Standing, Thomas placed a hand to her cheek.
“I promise you, I will not be cruel or try to dictate your life, Catrina. You will not want for anything.”
All she could do was smile.
“Henry!” Thomas called.
The butler appeared. “Yes, my lord.”
“Have the water that was heated for my bath taken to the guest bathing room for Catrina. Then tell John,” he said, referring to his driver, “to have the coach at the front of the house before dawn.”
“My lord?”
“Catrina and I will be traveling to Gretna Green in the morning.”
“Gretna Green?!” Henry repeated, his voice rising in shock, his eyes widening as a stunned expression crossed his face.
“Yes.”
Henry looked between his employer and the strange, beautiful woman. Confusion was upon his face. Henry would have bet his entire fortune that Thomas would never visit Gretna Green with a woman. It was a good thing he hadn’t.
“Henry,” Thomas said again.
Henry nodded. “Very good, my lord.”
“Wait. I have only the clothing I am wearing.” Catrina looked down at her soiled, wet dress.
“Henry, have a servant go to Miriam’s and acquire a few dresses for Miss Wilcox.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“I cannot take Miriam’s dresses.”
“She will not mind. Miriam is taller than you, so they might be a tad long on you.”
“That is fine. My clothing is on its way to Branson’s hotel, and I will not be going there to collect them.”
Thomas smiled. “No. I imagine not. Allow me to escort you to your room.”
For the first time since arriving, Catrina took in the decor. She suddenly felt out of place. Everything seemed so refined and elegant. Hand-carved woodwork and thick imported rugs. Paintings by Michelangelo and Raphael. Small brass and marble sculptures were scattered about on mahogany tables. Gilded doorknobs and crystal chandeliers were in each room they passed.
“I will give you the grand tour when we return. But I figure presently you would like to get out of that wet gown.” Thomas reached the steps.
“That would be most desirable. I feel like I am ruining your rugs.”
“Mrs. Welling—that is the housekeeper—will not be happy but will get over the issue.”
Catrina’s eyes went upward. Another servant with a name beginning with the letter W. What were the odds? The notion left her as she saw the grand staircase. Never had she seen such craftsmanship. It appeared almost as if it were one solid piece of oak as it wound around to each floor. The ceiling above the stairs was a glass dome.
Thomas stopped on the second level and turned right. Catrina’s eyes darted from side to side. She would never find her way around this large home.
They stopped beside a door.
“This will be your room for tonight.” Thomas motioned across the hall. “Across the hall is the bathing room. You might want to go there first.”
“You have a room just for bathing?”
“Yes. Follow me.”
Catrina followed Thomas across the hall. The floor was marbled with a yellow and blue floral pattern. Steam was rising from the metal tub that was nestled in a large wooden covering. Upon the wooden ledge sat a glass dish of bath salts and several clean towels. At the foot of the tub was an indoor commode. On the opposite wall was the fireplace with a mirror mounted over the hearth. A window was on one wall with a layering of sheer curtains. In front of the window was a wooden stand with a mirror and a small marble shelf.
“Oh, pardon me,” a voice came from the doorway.
Catrina turned and saw a young man holding two buckets.
“That is quite all right, Jasper. We will step into the hallway so you can finish.”
“This is the last of it, my lord.”
The boy poured the water and left. As Jasper went down the stairs, Mrs. Welling reached the top.
/> “What is this I hear, Lord Huntsley? That you are to marry?” Mrs. Welling asked.
“That would be correct, Mrs. Welling.”
The maid stood before them. Catrina was surprised by the servant's demeanor. She was rather outspoken, yet she had a kind expression. She was older than Catrina by several years. The gray in her hair stood out against her brown locks. Several wrinkles were around Mrs. Welling’s gray eyes, indicating she liked to smile.
“Is this her?” Mrs. Welling asked.
“It is. Catrina, this is Mrs. Welling, the housekeeper. Mrs. Welling, this is Catrina Wilcox.”
“Wilcox?” Mrs. Welling quirked a brow as she turned to look at Thomas.
“Yes, she is related to that sod.”
“I will not ask, my lord. Henry tells me you are leaving in the morning.”
“I need servants who do not like gossip as much as Henry and you.”
“We do not gossip, my lord. We share pertinent information to aid in the running of this household. Now,” Mrs. Welling held up her arm. “I have a shift for Miss Wilcox to put on after her bath.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Welling,” Thomas said. “And I would appreciate your discretion on this matter. No one is to know where I have gone and who is with me. Understand?”
“No.”
Catrina was surprised by the response.
Mrs. Welling cocked her head to the right and addressed Catrina. “Come now, my dear. Have you never had anyone question your actions?”
“Not servants.”
A smile pulled Mrs. Welling’s lips. “Well, my dear, this is a unique household. Or did you not know about Lady Miriam?”
“I know of her…by reputation.”
“Mrs. Welling,” Thomas interjected. “Do not run her off just yet. She does not know how to take you.” Thomas spoke to Catrina. “Mrs. Welling likes to test people. Get the feel of them to see if they are worthy of my friendship. You should have seen what she put Hawke through.”
“That scamp,” Mrs. Welling said, a twinkle in her eyes. “I hear he is to marry.”
“He is. To Catrina’s friend, I might add,” Thomas informed her.
“Good. He needs a strong woman. I hear the Paxsleys are just that. Now, Miss Wilcox, let us get you into the bath and off to bed. What time should John have the carriage brought around? You know he likes specifics.”
“Five should do.”
“Very good, my lord.” Mrs. Welling addressed Catrina. “Now, come along, my dear. Tomorrow will be a busy day. And do not worry about your brother finding out where you have gone. I will not say a word.”
Catrina’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”
A wry smile came to Mrs. Welling. “You will find that there is nothing that happens in this house that I am not aware of.”
Catrina stared at the older woman. This was going to be an interesting marriage.
Chapter Twenty
Thomas patted the pocket of his overcoat one last time. He had enough money to get them to Scotland and back as well as enough to stay for a week. After Catrina retired for the evening, he had Henry travel to Miriam’s and acquire a few dresses and underthings with a note promising to stop by and explain everything upon his return.
The clock chimed five. The morning matched the night wet and damp. Stepping outside, he could see his coach awaiting near the rear lamppost. Mornings like this were why Thomas was glad he’d had lampposts installed near his home, down the drive, and at the coach house. His neighbors called him insane at first, but now many of them had mimicked his idea. The lamppost illuminated the driver. He hated to do this to John. It was a miserable morning to be out so early.
Approaching the coach, Thomas pulled his collar close against the cold and dampness. “Are you ready?”
John nodded. Thomas had no doubt that the man in the driver's seat was not fazed by the weather. The Scotsman was a tough bastard with dark red hair and green eyes that twinkled with mischief. John McTavish had moved to England not long after Thomas’s tenth year. He was a burly Scot with a fierce temper, a skilled pugilist, and had a strong work ethic. Nonetheless, he liked John. Timothy discovered John by accident when John was working on the docks. A crate broke free from the rigging. The container would have struck Timothy if John had not intervened. He pushed Timothy to safety but not before the box crashed into John’s leg, breaking it. Unable to work, he lost his job. Timothy felt responsible and offered John employment in the stables. John accepted. He befriended Timothy and soon advanced his position from mucking stalls to coachman and bodyguard. Many times, Timothy sought counsel from the man. John was not one to shy away from giving his opinion when asked. And when the conversation turned heated enough, John’s Scottish brogue became more pronounced.
“Aye, Laird Huntsley. The rains are near gone.”
“Good.”
“Sa, are ye really going ta Gretna Green?”
“I am.”
“With who again?”
“Catrina Wilcox.”
John shook his head. “Never heard of the lass. But if she has caught yer eye, then she must be a remarkable woman.”
“Thank you.”
“I hope she is more agreeable than that last one. Lady Iris was an icy one.”
“Lady Iris was for entertainment.”
“If ye say so, my laird.”
Thomas scowled. “Do not give an ambiguous statement. If you have something to say, say it.”
“I never cared for Iris. She was a cold-hearted bitch. Now, it sounds like I can add whore ta her list o’ names as well.”
“Lady Iris was no whore, John. Her father is the Earl of Mortimer. A respected man.”
“I dinna kin if he was. He squandered his family’s wealth. But having a title ta his name no more makes her a lady than having short ears makes a mule a thoroughbred. It is what it is. She was loose wi’ her morals and look what good it did. Ye nearly married that hateful shrew.”
“That will be all, John.” Thomas did not like being reprimanded by his help. But then again, he had asked for John’s opinion. He should have known better for the coachman would gladly give it.
“Is that Miss Wilcox?” John asked, motioning his head to the house.
Thomas turned and spotted Catrina upon the top step. Henry was beside her, holding an umbrella over her head. The lamp in her hand cast shadows upon her face, causing her to appear almost angelic.
“Yes. That would be Miss Wilcox.”
“She’s a bonnie lass. I kin see why ye want tae marry her.”
“She is more than beautiful, John.”
John quirked a brow in a knowing matter.
“Not like that, John,” Thomas reprimanded.
“Ye hae made a name fer yesel’ as a scoundrel. What am I supposed tae believe?”
“Catrina is a lady, John.”
“I dinna kin none about her reputation. Is she nice?”
“Overly. And too forgiving.”
Catrina approached the coach, and a nervous breath left her.
John tipped his hat. “Good morning tae ye, miss.”
“Hello.”
John cleared his throat.
“Catrina, this is John McTavish. He is my coachman and an excellent shot. We should be safe on our journey. John, may I introduce you to Catrina Wilcox, soon to be Viscountess of Huntsley.”
“Nice tae make yer acquaintance, Miss Wilcox.”
“Shot?” Catrina said, alarm in her voice. “Will that be necessary?”
“It is wise to have an excellent marksman on the country roads, especially this early.”
Worry filled Catrina’s eyes. “If you think there will be trouble, then can we not wait to depart? No, that is not feasible, is it? Branson will be expecting me to leave.”
“But he will not expect you to be with me. And rest easy, the sun will be up in a few hours.” Thomas opened the carriage door. “Now, allow me to assist you in. That is unless you like standing in the mist.”
Catrina sho
ok her head and placed her hand in Thomas’s. Sitting down, she adjusted her spencer jacket and smoothed down the front of the green dress Miriam allowed her to borrow. Thomas sat in the seat opposite. Once the door was closed, Thomas tapped on the roof with his walking stick, and the coach moved forward.
Catrina kept her gaze fixed out the window. Her heart was aching. She loved Thomas and wanted to be with him but not in a loveless marriage. She had stayed awake all night, worrying about what was to come. Would he keep his word and allow her the inheritance her parents left her? Would he be good to her? Would he continue to keep his mistress? What would Branson do when he discovered they had married?
“Your mind is far from here,” Thomas spoke, breaking her thoughts.
“There is a lot on my mind.”
“Mine as well.”
She turned to face him. “Such as?”
“I do not trust your brother. I have taken precautions to ensure our safety, but I still would not put anything past him. Especially if he is desperate to get your inheritance.”
“I agree. My brother allows greed to control his actions. But why would he think I am with you? I mean, the incident at the ball? I made a complete spectacle of myself and pointed out our indiscretions along with the ones you had with Lady Iris and basically told all of London that I hated you.”
Thomas’s mouth twitched. She was not sure if it was from humor or anger. She was guessing the latter.
“You did create quite a spectacle of yourself. More so than any person I have seen. I did not appreciate you revealing that we had been intimate or that Lady Iris and I had been as well. That information will create hardship between her father and me at meetings and gatherings. As for your brother suspecting you will be with me? I think there will be no worry about that…for now. He will scour the city in search of you. Even badger the Paxsleys about your location. Because of your involvement with Miss Paxsley, Hawke will also involve himself. And I am here to tell you that Hawke has resources to find us even if I did not tell him. But even I am not so cruel as to let the Paxsleys worry about your whereabouts. I have instructed Henry to have a message delivered to them tomorrow afternoon, indicating your location. I have no doubt that will be in vain for Hawke’s associates will already know who you are with by then.”
