by Lora Thomas
“Aye,” John said. “She hisses and spits like a wee little kitten when angry.”
“I told you not to call me that,” Catrina seethed, without merit.
John laughed. “Ye see? Like a wee little kitten.”
“I see,” Thomas said, hiding his smirk. “Well, then, Lassie Cat.” He motioned to the carriage for her to enter.
“Do not call me that,” Catrina repeated.
Thomas could not contain his smile.
“And do not give me that winsome grin. It will have no effect on me. You both have now angered me.” She looked at John. “I hope it rains on you.” With that, she climbed into the carriage.
John hooted with laugher. “She’s a feisty one, that one is. Ye have yer hands full, Laird Huntsley.”
“You are telling me something that I already knew, John.” Thomas climbed inside the carriage.
John closed the door and leaned through the window. “I’ll be listening.”
“You will do no such thing,” Thomas protested.
“Aye, I will. I have tae make sure Lassie Cat’s reputation is nae tarnished. Tae make certain that ye behave like a gentleman before ye wed.”
“Remember your place, John.”
“I am. And ye remember yours.” John climbed into the driver’s seat.
“That man oversteps his bounds too often,” Thomas mumbled, readjusting his position upon the seat.
“He means well,” Catrina said.
“He does not mean well.”
“Come now, Thomas. He is making certain that I do not fall from grace before our marriage.”
A devilish twinkle came to Thomas’s eyes. “I believe he is a little too late.”
Heat crept back up Catrina’s face. “Shush.”
The coach suddenly swerved left. Thomas was thrust against the side of the carriage.
“Sorry,” John called down. “There are ruts in the road. Lots of them.”
“I am certain there are,” Thomas mumbled.
“Well, then. I suppose his statement about listening is correct.” Catrina smoothed down a wrinkle on the front of her dress.
“I need a new coachman,” Thomas grumbled. “One with fewer morals.”
“Why?”
Thomas looked at her, and she gave him a cheeky grin. He shook his head. “Then, since we have a set of ears listening to our conversation, what would you like to discuss?”
“Tell me about your father.”
A flash of something crossed Thomas’s green eyes. “He was a kind man. A good man. He died over seven years ago after a boating accident.”
“I am so sorry, Thomas.”
Thomas nodded. “The doctors said he took in too much water. Pneumonia set in, and he could not overcome it.” His mouth twitched as he fought the emotions coming over him. A deep breath left him. “What of your parents?”
“Mine?”
“Yes. Who were they? What were they like?”
“Well, let’s see. Their names were Patrick and Viola. Papa was a kind and caring man. He loved to hunt and play games with Branson and me. Momma was fun. She loved to dance and sing. She would make up songs and teach them to me.” Sadness flashed over her eyes, and an uneven breath left her. “I can hardly remember them now. She loved to garden, as well. Papa had a large solarium built for her. She would take me there to help her tend the roses during the spring.”
“If I recall, you said you still like to garden.”
Thomas’s memory surprised her.
“Yes. I do. I am surprised you remembered.”
“How could I forget? You told me while we were assisting Artie with his mirrors.”
“So, I did. I am surprised you remembered. I was babbling a tad bit.”
Thomas chuckled. “You were. Did he ever get the mirrors to work?”
“Yes and no. They illuminated a few feet into the cave but no farther. We were about to find the correct placement. However, a storm came in and destroyed some of the mirrors.” Disappointment filled her blue eyes. “That is too bad. It was a sound theory. Artie is a true optimist. He was trying to come up with another grand scheme when I left. Something about a tube to funnel the smoke from the lanterns or some such nonsense.”
Thomas readjusted in his seat. “Well, I hope it works. The artwork was too beautiful to see tarnished by smoke and soot. But never fear. If it does become tarnished, he can use my investment to restore them.”
“Your investment?”
Thomas nodded. “Yes. That was his sole reason for inviting Hawke and me there. He was trying to convince us to invest in his business in Eden.”
“And from the way you talk, you have done so.”
“I have.”
She smiled. “I think it is lovely for you to help your friend. He is such a kind man and cares about preserving the arts.”
Thomas laughed. “Well, only partly. He has other businesses near Eden.”
“Really? Where? I never heard him speak of any.”
A sheepish grin pulled Thomas’s features. “Well, they would not be for mixed company.”
Her eyes widened. “You mean brothels?!”
“No. Those are located a few miles from Eden in a place called Eros.”
“Eros? As in the Greek word for unadulterated love.”
“Yes. I am surprised you are familiar with the term.”
She shrugged. “Miss Eddy was very insistent upon a well-rounded education.”
“But learning the Greek word for sexual love? That would be a little brazen…even for one of Miss Eddy’s reputation.”
A twinkle came to Catrina’s blue eyes. “Well, she did not actually teach about that. I slipped into her study one night while she slept and helped myself to her private reading collection. I must say she had some rather risqué reading material in her library.”
Thomas laughed. “You little minx.”
“Thank you. I will take that as a compliment. Now, what were we discussing? Oh! Mr. Heath’s business?”
“Gaming hells and fighting rings.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Gambling?”
“More or less.”
“Did you partake in his business dealings?”
He shrugged. “Yes. I engaged in a few bouts of fisticuffs and lost a small sum at the card tables.”
“Small sum? Men lose thousands at those establishments.”
“That they do,” Thomas agreed. “I do not gamble as frequently as some of my peers. I prefer to have a good drink and socialize.”
“That is good to hear. I would hate to argue over gambling.”
“Many do. Men grow desperate to recoup their winnings.”
“They do and leave their poor wives and children destitute.”
Thomas slouched in his seat. “Gambling makes men do desperate things to get their fortunes back. Many claim that my business ventures are worse than gambling, but I disagree. I understand the risks and take insurance out to cover any losses that may come.”
“What businesses do you have?”
Thomas drew his brows together. “My father might have left me a large sum, but he taught me how to invest it wisely. I used that knowledge and purchased two sugar cane plantations in the Caribbean, a copper mine in Cornwall, and a large parcel of acreage in Virginia for tobacco. I owned a sizeable estate in Dover. I sold that to purchase the ones I presently own in Hampshire as well as additional lands in Oxford.”
“My, that is a lot of property.”
“It is. The mine foreman sends me weekly updates. The others send updates on any ship heading to England.”
“I see.”
Catrina looked out the window. Thomas was indeed a busy man. How would he have time for her when he had all his properties to oversee?
“Would you like a solarium?”
Catrina turned to face Thomas. “Pardon?”
“A greenhouse? Would you like one? I can have one built for you.”
A smile pulled her lips. “That would be
lovely.”
“Then consider it done. While I am at the office, you can attend to whatever you wish to grow.”
“Thank you. Branson refused to even consider repairing Mother’s solarium.”
“Your brother is an idiot,” Thomas said, closing his eyes.
“He is.”
“Tell me, after you injured your ankle, did he stop the butler from sending for the doctor?”
“No. But if you had not ordered Mr. Winston to do so, Branson never would have sent for the doctor.”
Thomas snorted in disgust. “It should have been your brother. He is just as stupid as Clayton.”
The instant the name came out of Thomas’s mouth, Catrina furrowed her brow and recalled the conversation from the pond. “Who is Clayton?”
“What?” Thomas asked, turning his gaze upon her.
“Clayton. You mentioned his name earlier today.”
Thomas furrowed his brow and shook his head.
“Yes, you did. By the pond. You said you saw me sitting on the ground after Clayton came after me.” A gasp left her. “You knew who tried to attack me?”
Thomas sat upright as he mentally chastised himself. Damn. How could he have been so stupid?
“Thomas? Do you know who tried to harm me?”
There was no point in denying it. She would eventually meet that bloody sod.
A deep breath left him as he nodded his head. “Yes.”
“Who is he? Did you report him?” Urgency was in her voice.
“No, I did not report him.”
“What? Why?! He tried to take me!”
“Because he is my cousin,” Thomas snapped.
Catrina’s eyes widened and anger punctuated her question, “So that gives him a free pass to try to hurt someone?”
Thomas shook his head. “It is not that simple, Catrina.”
“Not that simple? How could it not be? You are using your title to allow a dangerous man to roam Swindon, Thomas. How can you be so—”
“Dammit! It is my uncle, not I, who is protecting that bloody idiot.”
“Do not lie to me, Thomas.”
“I would never lie to you, Catrina! Clayton Charles is the man’s name. He is my Aunt Merritt’s son. My uncle Marcum protects him for his sister.”
A shocked gasp left Catrina. “So, he is a relation to your mother. Was it her idea? That he try to take me for revenge for her squabble against my brother. Was that her plan?”
“What? No!”
Catrina snorted in disbelief. “Your mother and my brother hate each other to the point that each would willingly kill the other. I would not put abduction past either of them.”
“Dammit, Catrina. It is more complicated than that. He is protected by my uncle, Marcum Winters, the Marquess of Devonshaw. You remember him, don’t you?” Disdain dripped from Thomas’s words. “Yes, you do. He was the man who claimed that you were nothing more than a good tumble.”
“Why would your uncle taint his name by protecting a criminal?”
“Why would I? Do you think that simply because my father had a sordid reputation that I have one as well, that I would tarnish my name in that regard? If you do, then you are not as intelligent as I thought you were.”
“What am I supposed to think, Thomas. He tried to take me, and you did nothing.”
“I did nothing? I believe I stopped him. I have tried to stop him from harming others on numerous occasions.” Thomas glowered at her. “But apparently you do not care.”
“How?”
“Now you believe me?”
“What am I supposed to believe, Thomas? If the situation was reversed, would you believe me? You said it was more complicated than that man trying to take me. How?”
“Josephine wanted me to mentor that idiot. But you cannot mentor a man hell-bent on self-destruction. There is something mentally wrong with Clayton. He is perverse in mind and body. On more than one occasion, I have found him peering through windows watching women dress. And I have reported his actions. But Uncle Marcum saw that nothing became of them.”
“Why would he protect such a horrid man?”
Thomas shook his head. “I have asked myself that same question many times. And I truly do not know and cannot locate an answer. All Mother and my aunts will say is that Clayton took his father’s death too hard. Hell, the sod was eighteen when his father died. He was old enough to behave like a man. Yet, he took obscene pleasures in the years before Truman’s death. The only explanation I can conclude is that he is evil and needs to go to prison before he takes his actions too far.”
“So why did he try to take me?” Catrina asked.
“Hawke and I were looking for him. We found him at a tavern, and he bolted. He was using you as a shield to protect himself from my wrath.”
“And what happened after you took me home? Did you find him?”
Thomas shook his head. “No. But Hawke did. He brought Clayton back to Josephine’s. Hawke did give him the thrashing he deserved before returning him to Montgomery House. My mother defended Clayton, naturally, as she always does.”
“Why would she defend such a man?”
Sadness came over Thomas. “I guess since she sees me as such a disappointment, she places her attention on another.”
“But you are her son?” Catrina said, trying to make sense of Thomas’s explanation.
“And she claims I was the product of force. She claims my father raped her, and I was the outcome.”
A shocked gasp left Catrina.
“My father was many things, but he was a gentleman foremost. He never disrespected my mother physically—although I would not have begrudged him if he had. My mother was and still is a coldhearted bitch. All she did was give me life. Miriam James is the woman I wished could have been my mother.”
Catrina placed her hand upon Thomas’s. No wonder this man before her was so callous towards others. Josephine caused him to be. How could a mother detest their own child so?
“I am sorry, Thomas.”
“I did not tell you about Clayton because I did not want tensions to increase further between our families. I did not want you to think less of me. If you knew I was related to that man, you would have placed me in the same caliber as him. I am not. I am many things, and I will admit to all of them. But I am no criminal.”
His vulnerability surprised her. He was a strong man who was indirectly admitting that he had sorrow in his life. That he had pain that would never go away. She wanted to help ease his pain.
“I believe you.”
Thomas smiled and squeezed her hand. “I would never harm you, Catrina. Never.”
“I know.”
A wolfish grin came to his lips. “Now, your reputation? That I cannot swear I will never tarnish.”
Catrina laughed. “I believe I have already handled that issue in London. And now Mr. McTavish will not allow you to have your wish until after we are wed.”
Thomas slouched back into his seat, closed his eyes, but kept hold of her hand. “I need to find a way to plug that man’s ears.”
“Now, now, Thomas. You might have a sordid past, but I will give you a new reputation.”
Thomas opened one eye and looked at her. “Which is?”
“I want the gossipmongers to see that you have more worth than what they have labeled you as having. I want them to see you as Thomas Summers, the Viscount of Huntsley, and an honorable man.”
Thomas laughed. “Good luck.”
“I will make it happen. Just see if I do not.”
“Your reputation will be as sordid as mine after this trip. We are traveling to Gretna Green without a chaperone.”
Catrina proudly raised her chin. “And we are to marry.”
“They will claim it is because I caused you to fall from grace.”
“Then, I will have to rectify that falsification.”
“How? You did so eloquently tell the ton we were intimate prior to this. Remember?”
She drew her brow togethe
r. “I do not know. I have not gotten that far. But when I do, you will be the first to know.”
“You truly are overly confident in yourself, aren’t you?”
“Not always. You have brought out my emboldened side.”
A smile came to Thomas that caused Catrina’s heart to increase with excitement. “I truly cannot wait to see how emboldened I can make you.”
The carriage abruptly swerved. “Rut in the road!” John called down.
Catrina squeezed Thomas’s hand and leaned over, whispering in his ear, “I cannot wait for that to happen.”
A deep growl left Branson as he kicked his horse to a run. That damned manservant of Huntsley’s lied to him! Huntsley did not own land in Manchester. Hell, the people there had never heard of Thomas Summers. He should have known that the butler would have protected his employer. He had been an idiot to think otherwise. Now, because of this delay, he would be lucky to even catch up with Catrina and Huntsley before they wed.
Branson’s eyes drifted skyward, and his scowl deepened. Damn! Rain was coming. If it was raining here, then it could possibly be raining on the Great North Road. That would be his only saving grace.
“Mr. Wilcox,” Wilkerson said, pulling the collar of his coat up as it began to sprinkle. “We need to find shelter. This rain is cold.”
“Shut up,” Branson hissed.
“Sir—”
Branson pivoted in his saddle. “I said, shut up. You think I do not know that the rain is cold? I can feel it as it hits my flesh. If you had manned up, we would not be in this predicament.”
“If I had not manned up? I have done all that you have asked!”
“Not yet. Not yet, you have not! I want what rightfully belongs to me. If you had bullocks, you would have dragged Catrina kicking and screaming out of the Paxsleys’ and married her.”
“The Paxsleys would have called the authorities on me. I would have been arrested. But I did not have to. She left willingly.”
“You should have physically restrained her in the carriage. If we do not find her, I will make certain that you will be arrested anyway if I do not get my hands on my inheritance.”
Mr. Wilkerson gave a wary look at Branson. “Sir, this ain’t right.”
“Shut up, Mr. Wilkerson. We made a bargain. You will uphold your end, or I will see you hung…either by the courts or by my own hand. Understand?”
