A Rogue's Courtship: Clean Regency Romance Collection

by Madeline St. James

  “Thank you.”

  Sarah curtseyed and left the room, and Catherine finally felt a sense of calm. Hiding from an entire household was definitely more exhausting than just hiding from her father. With Sarah and Thomas keeping her secret, she felt perhaps that her plan might just work.

  Catherine decided that it was time to solidify friendships and allies. She went to the door. Her father hadn’t expressly banned her from the rest of the house, so Catherine searched for Thomas to demand an explanation of last night’s encounter. Secretly, though, she hoped for a reenactment of the swift kiss he had given her. She wanted to test the theory that it could be something more. She found him alone, sitting in the same parlor they had been in the day before. Catherine shut the door behind her when she entered the parlor, and turned the lock on the door so it sounded with a click, forcing Thomas to put down the paper he was reading and look up to see her standing there.

  Chapter 5

  Catherine made her way slowly across the room in silence. The rustle of papers was loud to her ears as Thomas carefully folded them up and leaned forward, putting the neat stack on the table in front of him.

  “Lady Catherine,” he murmured when she stood in front of him.

  “Lord Desmond.” She waited to see if he would say anything further, but he simply smiled up at her. She saw the same look of mischievousness in his face that had always been apparent when she knew him as a boy. When he didn’t say anything further, she nodded to the papers.

  “Anything interesting in the news?” she inquired.

  “Verily, no. What seems to be the talk of the ton lately is the mysterious disappearance of one of the gossip mongers’ favorite subjects of conversation.”

  “Oh, is that so? And who might that be?” She considered sitting on the sofa opposite him, but she found she rather enjoyed the fleeting power of standing over him.

  “Why, none other than the scandalous Lady Haddington. You wouldn’t know what she might be up to lately, would you?”

  “I daresay I don’t have any inkling of what you are talking about, Lord Desmond.”

  “I see. Won’t that be a disappointment for the masses,” he replied with a smile.

  “Yes, indeed. Perhaps you could assuage their trampled spirits with a new scandal?” she suggested mysteriously.

  “Truly? And what scandal might that be, my Lady?”

  “They might be interested to know why one Lord Desmond has been found out to be frequenting a house of ill-repute. Madame Kingston’s, if I presume to understand it correctly.”

  Thomas stiffened and sat up a little straighter, but Catherine did not falter. He seemed to consider her words, and she had only let on that she knew he had frequented the house. It was in her best interest to leverage this information to keep his tongue from wagging if he would ever presume to use the knowledge that she was sneaking out. A bit of gossip that could soil his own reputation should keep him quiet.

  “It is a dangerous game you play, Catherine,” he whispered. Her name coming from his lips gave her a delightful chill.

  “No more dangerous than the one you cast the die for last night, Lord Desmond. What would Lord Chancellor say if his future son-in-law was known to be kissing the intended, his own daughter?”

  “I would think he might ask why she was outside at such an hour, sneaking back into her room, and how she might possibly have known that the person in question was at such an establishment.”

  “Then you see our predicament, Lord Desmond,” she asserted. With that, Catherine turned, giving her back to Lord Desmond. She made her way around the room and admired the various objets d’art. She heard Thomas stand and then the soft padding of his boots across the carpet as he approached her.

  Catherine kept her back to him and reached up to touch the fingertips of a sculpture that was brought in from Greece. The white marble was smooth and cool, the stance of the person whom was sculpted looked provocative. She always enjoyed reading the tales of the antics of the Greek Pantheon. They were always up to some nefarious deeds.

  “It’s not what you think, my Lady.”

  “Is it not? I’m fairly certain the house of Madame Kingston is a set establishment with some clear parameters of the business that is conducted there.”

  “So, it would seem. But the business I conduct there is merely to check on an old acquaintance. Madame Kingston paid me a kindness when I was a boy, and my intentions were to repay that kindness with a visit and a few bits and baubles as gifts. I have not seen her in all of these years, and it was refreshing to call upon her and finally be able to repay her.”

  “Do tell, Lord Desmond,” Lady Haddington urged. “I find your solicitation of Madame Kingston to be frightfully fascinating. As you well know, I have naught but the company of myself to keep these last few days and nights. It’s rather boring when one has to entertain themselves so.” Catherine’s eyes sparkled as she looked up at Lord Desmond. His lips twitched, as he knew full well the last few evenings were anything but boring for her.

  “The winter before I was called away to Clearwater Manor, I was set upon by the lads I was acquainted with and they chased me all the way down to the White Chapel District. I was trying to hide from them, they didn’t understand how I could have befriended a girl and shunned their own comradery. They meant to question the why fors of it, in probably the most egregious of manners. I ducked into an alley and crouched, only to feel the weight of a palm that I thought surely was that of a man. I tried to fight the assailant off, but alas, I was hauled in backwards into the establishment behind me. It was there I found myself staring up at the robust form of Madame Kingston. She pressed a dirty finger to her lips and silenced me as we listened to the race of boots outside the door.

  Once all was quiet, it took me a moment to realize the kind of establishment I had fallen into, but Madame Kingston marched me up to a room with a cozy fire and settled me down for a hot bowl of stew. She allowed me to rest a while until I thought perhaps my companions might have given up on their pursuit of me. After that night, I never returned to the park outside your window, my Lady. But I’ve also never forgotten the actions of a woman who has known nothing but hardship her entire life and forced to work in the basest conditions. A woman who can show such care and kindness, although hardened and seasoned, is surely a woman worth knowing; no matter what social standing she is set upon.”

  Catherine swallowed hard at that last declaration. She, too, knew the kindness of Madame Kingston. She rescued her a few nights ago when the men had intentions of setting upon her. It seemed as if Madame Kingston was a bleeding heart, intent to rescue those in need of salvation. It was interesting that salvation could come in such varying forms. Catherine thought of her friend Claire. To anyone else, she would look exactly as the world saw her, but she was a kindred spirit to Catherine.

  “I’m sorry, Thomas,” Catherine said quietly. “Madame Kinston’s character far exceeds her reputation.”

  “That it does. How is it that you have come to know the Madame?”

  “It’s not what you might think,”Catherine answered quickly..

  “No? And what might I think?”

  “I’m not a courtesan, Lord Desmond. I told you that when you caught me last night. There have been no liaisons.”

  “I never thought that. I believe you. If there is but one fault I find in your character, Lady Haddington, it is that you speak the truth no matter how harsh it might befall on delicate ears. I find it rather refreshing. Especially as it is a characteristic near to my own father, however his words often fall with malicious cruelty, whereas yours are spoken with naught but genuine intention.”

  “I thank you for that Lord Desmond. Although I do worry that the comparison to the Baron Desmond might be an alarming comparison.”

  “Don’t fret on it o’er much. Your characters are such that it is only the slightest of comparisons.”

  Catherine nodded and continued circling the room. She was grasping for what to say, how to
explain herself, and she was grateful Thomas didn’t press her for further details.

  “I work for Madame Kingston. That is to say, I clean. Linens and dishes and such, but that is all.” She figured telling him the truth, at least as close to the truth whilst omitting her intentions for doing the work, was better than lying to her old friend.

  “Might I be so bold as to ask if Lord Chancellor has relinquished your allowance? If it is monies you are in need of-“

  “No,” she cut him off. “No thank you. I am quite capable of earning my purse. Besides, he has not relinquished my allowance.”

  “Then why-“

  “Please do not ask after the motivations. Just satisfy your curiosity with an explanation as to how I have come to know Madame Kingston. And before you endeavor to speak with her on my behalf, understand that I wish that you wouldn’t. Madame Kingston’s rules are very clear. She wishes no drama to befall her establishment.”

  “My Lady-”

  “Please! Promise me,” Catherine pleaded. “You promised me last night that you would hold my secret. I have divulged all that I can to you. Thomas, if our friendship meant anything to you at all, please speak no more of this.” Catherine grasped his forearm. She knew the familiar use of his name was a risk, as was inviting such intimacy by grasping his arm. But she needed to know her plan was still intact, and that she could count on him to keep his word.

  He looked down at her hand and she let go immediately, but when he took a step towards her, she backed up and found herself pressed against the wall.

  “My Lady, I am a man of my word. I’ll not stop you if you wish to continue this, this-” He searched the room, looking for the proper word to describe what she had been up to, but his vocabulary fell short. “I won’t stop this, but you must know, I will stop you when the time comes.”

  Catherine gasped. “Lord Desmond, what do you-” He pressed his lips to hers again, and Lady Catherine forgot her muffled protests. His body was large and warm, and she shook with desire as one of his hands found her waist, and the other cupped her cheek. He deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth, making her tremble. Never had she anticipated a kiss to be so bold. To further it, his tongue intertwined with her own as his lips continued to caress hers. When he broke off the kiss, they were both breathing hard. He pressed his forehead to hers.

  “Lady Catherine, when I first heard the plan of Baron Desmond to accept your hand, I begged him. I pleaded with him to let it be my own instead. I knew who you were. Even in Clearwater Manor, we heard the rumors that abounded your reputation. Where he scorned the behavior, I internally rejoiced knowing that you were the same, untamed, independent girl who climbed down trees and ran wild with me through the streets of London. Catherine, I tried,” he said, his voice rife with emotion. “I tried to persuade him, but he was fixed to be married upon his deathbed, and so I hatched a new plan. I convinced him that it wouldn’t be proper not to have representation here in London on your behalf. I told him that I should come for the season until the Easter holidays, so that everyone might know that Clearwater Manor laid claim to you.”

  “Lord Desmond!”

  “Please, let me finish.” Thomas stroked the small of her back and her cheek with his knuckles. “I convinced myself that even if my purpose was to come and bring you to the Baron, I would be doing myself a service because then you would be there, held prisoner with me until the Baron draws his last breath. Even if I had to sit and wait whilst you played the part of doting wife and Lady of the Manor, I wouldn’t have to wait long. The Baron’s health fades; the doctor’s give him but the span of a year. I know the stubbornness of the Baron, having lived with him for so long. He might last, at most, another five. But I told myself that he would never give you an heir. He’s incapable. And all I would have to do is wait but a little longer. Clearwater Manor is mine by default as his only heir, but Lady Haddington, please know it would be ours. Yours and mine.”

  Catherine’s breath was coming in short pants, and she felt exhilarated with all of the excitement. How could he dare whisper such things? Such secrets the Lord Desmond had!

  “But I won’t let you leave, my Lady,” he told her. “When the time comes and you try, I’m afraid my strength of character is too weak to let you slip away again.” Catherine tried to wiggle away from him, but he held her tight and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I know you’ll never forgive me. The one thing you’ve always craved is freedom. But when you try to run, I will stop you,” he whispered.

  With those words, he pushed away from the wall and strode to the door, leaving Catherine standing there, panting and glassy eyed. It was a long moment before she was composed enough to push away from the wall and make her way to her bedroom. Despite how much Sarah pressed her as she readied her bath, Catherine didn’t have the heart to tell her what had transpired in the parlor. As much as she wanted her freedom, Thomas’s heat and passion was scorched into her body and soul. How was it that life could cast her such misfortune that the one man she deemed acceptable to marry and ensnare her in the bonds of matrimony, was the one man that fate wasn’t permitting her to have?

  Catherine considered his words. Could she do it? Could she let herself be forced into wedlock until such a time as the Baron Desmond passed from this plain? There would be nothing stopping her after that. Her father held no right over her once she was widowed. In fact, the man responsible for her welfare would be Lord Desmond himself, as the rightful heir to Clearwater Manor. She often heard tales of the mistreatment of the widows of men at the hands of their sons once the husband had passed. Would Lord Desmond despise her those years she was enslaved to Baron Desmond out of necessity? He could cast her out if he wished. Could she take that risk? Catherine shook her head. She decided that the feeble promise of love was not a risk worth taking.

  Catherine rose from the tub, more determined than ever to take control over her own destiny. She would go abroad, only to return in the likely event of Baron Desmond passing, and if she somehow received word of Lord Desmond’s unencumbered status as a single bachelor. If fate granted them these circumstances, then she would return from France and inquire as to his continued affections. It seemed she needed to step even more carefully where Lord Desmond was concerned. The last thing she needed was to be caught on the day she made her escape.

  Catherine was feeling comforted by her own resolution and solid belief in herself when she accompanied Lord Desmond and her father to the play that evening. That was, until she was ushered into one of the finest top boxes of the theater, and she found herself face to face with none other than her old friend, Lady Sophia of Bradford.

  Chapter 6

  Catherine paused in the doorway as Lady Bradford and the Viscount of Bradford looked up. The Viscount of Bradford looked genuinely pleased to see Lord Chancellor Haddington, as well as mildly interested in Lord Desmond, and then his and the Lady Bradford’s eyes fell on Lady Catherine.

  “Lady Haddington.” The Viscount of Bradford’s words were stiff, and his eyes were cold. Catherine had no doubt he was recalling their last encounter when she danced with him at his masquerade ball. She, of course, was sent an invitation to their wedding, but declined to go, figuring there was no use causing further disruption to their nuptials. When Lady Bradford refused to return her missives, she assumed she would be most unwelcome anyway.

  Catherine curtseyed politely and mumbled, “Viscount of Bradford. A blessing on you and your new bride.” She curtseyed to Lady Bradford, who also exchanged an awkward greeting.

  Catherine gritted her teeth as she was forced to sit next to Lady Bradford and the Viscount Bradford. The Lord Chancellor Haddington sat in the second row behind them, and as the lights fell, Catherine could feel the puzzled looks on Lady Bradford’s sweet face as she continued to sneak glances at her. Catherine clenched her fists in her lap and continued to look straight ahead, although her mind was anywhere but on the play. It took an eternity to get to intermission, and Catherine thought her cheeks wer
e scorched permanently by the time she was able to stand and allow Lord Desmond to escort her to the powder room. What only added insult to injury was that etiquette dictated Lady Bradford and herself be permitted to walk a few paces ahead of Lord Desmond and the Viscount of Bradford, so that they might discuss the play and other goings on in the ton.

  “Lady Catherine, I-”

  “Are we so familiar still, Lady Bradford?” Catherine asked quietly. Lady Bradford sucked in a breath and Catherine closed her eyes. Although the last thing she wished was to hurt her further, Catherine wasn’t sure she could endure making apologies for her own feelings of hurt and betrayal. She apologized for her behavior at the ball, again and again, and nothing was acknowledged. She wasn’t sure her body had one ounce of sincere regret left that could be uttered. What angered her was that no one would acknowledge her own feelings, because the way she expressed them was not appropriate or ladylike.

  “Lady Haddington. I must confess I was hoping to see you here tonight.” Lady Bradford’s voice was soft, and Catherine heard the sincerity in her guileless tone. She found comfort in it, and from the Lady’s mother Mrs. Balfour, when she was welcomed to their home those months ago.

  “I daresay I cannot fathom as to why, Lady Bradford,” Catherine commented. They waited as the concierge pushed open the door to the powder room. As one of the finest boxes at the theater, they were given their own private powder room. Lady Catherine looked in the mirror, checking her appearance and avoiding eye contact with Lady Bradford in the reflection.

  “I was hoping to see you here so that we might have a chance to speak to one another. I...well, I miss our kindred friendship, Lady Catherine.”

  Catherine paused and turned around. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes. “Do you? I wrote to you daily. And you never responded to my letters. Not a single one.”

  “There are some things that should be said in person, wouldn’t you agree?” Lady Sophia’s lips trembled, and Catherine was grateful the men were not permitted in their powder room. For once, she felt like she could speak the truth and not be reprimanded or chastised for having an opinion.