An Unsuitable Duchess (28 page)

How could he not have realised she was in such dire straits? ‘But the gambling... I have sat in card rooms with you,’ he muttered out loud.

‘I was there to attract men like
you
!
You
have reduced me to spreading my legs in search of the money and prestige that already should be mine. Every time I had one of you inside me I earned that title! Every time I waited for you and turned down other invitations I earned it! And every time someone asked if a proposal was imminent, and I had to smile and say nothing, I earned it! That chatterbox Lizzy Skeffington should not be a duchess!
I
should!’

All her screaming had made her voice hoarse.

‘Surely you could find a husband with a lesser title? There are many wealthy men who would beg to marry you.’

Her body began trembling with rage. ‘You expect me to marry a viscount or a baron?’ she shrieked.

He put his palms back up. It was like trying to settle a skittish horse. His brief moment of sympathy at her situation had clouded his knowledge of her pride and her sense of entitlement. Knowing he had once felt affection for her was making him physically ill.

‘How will taking Miss Vandenberg help? I still do not understand?’

She let out a mean laugh. ‘You stupid man—this isn’t about taking her. It’s about
killing
her. If she is dead you can’t marry her, and my reputation as a desirable woman will be secure.’

Every bone in Julian’s body seemed to disintegrate, and it was taking great effort for him to remain standing tall and firm. Katrina wasn’t going to die tonight. Somehow he would make certain of it.

‘You have it wrong about Miss Vandenberg and myself. We barely speak.’

Helena’s eyes darted between the two of them and for the first time he could see her confidence waver. ‘You’re lying. I saw her enter the maze at the Finchleys’ shortly before you did.’

This was all for nothing. Katrina wasn’t even his. And if Julian hadn’t witnessed her being kidnapped he would have been asking Morley for his daughter’s hand about now.

He shook his head sadly. ‘It was simply a coincidence. I never saw her.’

He looked over at Katrina, bound in the chair. He could tell she was frightened. So was he. But she was remaining quietly composed, allowing him to try to defuse the situation. He prayed he knew how.

‘His Grace is telling the truth,’ Katrina called out, keeping her eyes on Helena. ‘We barely know one another.’

Helena licked her lips and shifted her feet slightly, staring at Julian. ‘I’ve seen the way you look at her. There is something between you.’

He shook his head. ‘I find her to be attractive.’
Beyond compare.
‘She is American, so her mannerisms are different.’
And charming.
‘But, as I said, we barely speak.’
But she will have my heart forever.

Helena’s eyes darted between them again. Her bravado was weakening. But if he grabbed for the pistol it could go off, and the shot might hit Katrina.

Slowly he held out his hand. ‘Give me the pistol, Helena. No one needs to die tonight.’

She steadied her hand. ‘I know I will swing for what I’ve done.’

‘It does not have to come to that,’ he said reassuringly. ‘Now, hand it to me.’

Her knuckles whitened around the gun and her face set with determination.

He motioned for the weapon. ‘As angry as you are with me, you will not shoot me. You are not that evil.’

Dear God, he hoped it was true!

Her breathing had become erratic, and in the glow of the lantern he saw tears rim her eyes.

‘If I hand you my pistol, what will happen then?’

He took a step closer. ‘I will untie Miss Vandenberg and the two of us will leave. That is all.’

From the corner of his eye he saw Katrina look his way.
Keep silent, Katrina. Do not say a word.

He knew he needed to take her back to the ball. If the
ton
found out she had been kidnapped, her reputation would be beyond repair. He would find a way to deal with Helena later. Debtors’ prison would be enough of a punishment. If he involved Bow Street in this, the kidnapping would be all over the newspapers by morning.

‘Give me the pistol.’

She took two deep, uneven breaths and uncocked the gun.

He stepped closer and motioned again with his fingers. This time she handed him the pistol.

Relief flooded through Julian, and it was a wonder he had the strength to hold the gun in his hand.

He rushed to Katrina’s side and began untying her hands. She rubbed her wrists as he worked on the bloody knot near her ankles. He needed to get her outside before Helena did something else irrational. When the knot was finally free and he had unbound her legs, he stood, ready to take her in his arms. But she lunged for Helena instead.

Julian grabbed her by the waist before she was able to get close to Helena and pulled her back. ‘We need to leave.
Now
.’

She tore herself free from his grip, her eyes drilling holes into Helena. His former lover was sitting on the floor, staring sightlessly at the ground. It appeared the realisation of what had transpired had hit her.

He needed to get Katrina out of there quickly. Helena was too unstable. He would deal with her tomorrow. They needed to return to the ball.

Julian tugged Katrina’s arm and together they escaped out into the passageway and to freedom.

‘There is a carriage waiting for us above ground,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘I will return you to the masquerade. All will be well.’

* * *

In the darkness of the rocking carriage Katrina wrapped her arms around herself, attempting to alleviate the chills that had begun racking her body the moment they left the crypt. All she wanted was to crawl into bed and tuck herself into mountains of blankets. With any luck she could remain there for days, and avoid telling her father about any of this for as long as possible.

‘You’re shivering,’ Julian said from his seat across from her. His body jerked in hesitation before he crossed the carriage. ‘Forgive me—in this costume I have no coat to give you. I can only offer you my warmth.’ He shifted closer to her on the bench and drew her to his side.

Her body should have melted into his. Instead it stiffened into stone. Although she would be forever grateful to him for coming for her, he was still the man who didn’t want her. She was afraid that if she let herself find comfort in his embrace she wouldn’t be able to let go of him when they arrived at Finchley House.

‘She told me she had hired someone who would dispose of me later tonight. We were fortunate he did not return.’ She rubbed her forehead. ‘What do you think will happen to her?’ she asked into the darkness.

Julian shrugged. ‘She will not say anything about tonight. She would be sealing her fate at the gallows. I will make certain her debts are called in tomorrow. If she cannot pay them, as I suspect she can’t, she will be taken to debtors’ prison.’

She turned to him and met his gaze for the first time in the dim light of the carriage lantern. ‘Won’t her family help her?’

‘I do not believe so. I do not know the particulars, but I am aware that she does not speak to her brother.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Are you in need of a physician? Were you harmed?’

The sound of his true concern was evident. It was breaking her heart all over again.

Katrina shook her head. ‘There is no need. I have come to no harm.’

It occurred to her that the last time they had spoken it had been in a carriage such as this. As far as she knew, this might even be the same carriage they had travelled in.

She hugged herself tighter as the shards of her heart crashed around her chest. ‘How did you find me?’

‘I saw you taken from the terrace. I followed you out to the mews and was lucky to find Hart’s driver parked nearby. We tracked you to the crypt.’

Silence stretched between them. After some time Julian cleared his throat. ‘We will be arriving at the Finchleys’ soon. As much as it unnerves me to leave you alone, I will enter the ball and send Miss Forrester out to bring you back in through the garden. Although it’s a masquerade, and everyone is in disguise, it would be best to have her with you to ensure your reputation.’ He appeared to realise his commanding nature. ‘With your permission, of course.’

Katrina nodded. This night could not end soon enough for her liking.

They travelled the remainder of the way to the house in silence. It didn’t take long before the carriage slowed, made a number of sharp turns, and eventually came to a stop. They were back at Finchley House.

She felt the hesitation when Julian withdrew his arm from around her shoulder. ‘Thank you, Julian, for coming after me.’

He gave her a solemn nod. ‘I am truly sorry,’ he replied before he opened the door. Looking at her one last time, he turned and left her.

Katrina didn’t have the physical or emotional energy to try to determine what he was sorry for, and she rested her head back on the squab while she waited for Sarah. It wasn’t long before the door opened and Sarah jumped inside.

‘Oh, thank God you are back,’ Sarah said, throwing her arms around Katrina and hugging her.

Katrina knew she would have to walk through the ballroom as if nothing harrowing had happened. In order to do that, she could not allow herself to sob in Sarah’s arms. It was taking all her effort to remain composed.

‘I was so very worried,’ Sarah continued. ‘Hartwick told me you had been taken. I made an excuse to my mother about you being sick. I told her you must have eaten something disagreeable and that when your stomach was better it probably would be wise for us to leave.’ She hugged her again. ‘Dear God, you’re shaking.’

Sarah took off her highwayman’s black cape and draped it around Katrina’s shoulders.

‘How long have I been gone?’

‘A little over two hours.’ She ran her hands up and down Katrina’s arms. ‘Are you well? Did they harm you? Who was it that took you?’

Although Katrina was relieved to see her friend, Sarah’s chattering was making her head pound. She quietly relayed all the details of what had happened as she donned the mask Sarah had handed her and they re-entered the garden to find Sarah’s mother.

Hopefully, it would be easy to get her to agree to leave the ball. Katrina just wanted to be safe—in her home. She should have learned that standing alone on a terrace during a ball was never a good idea.

* * *

Katrina entered her home an hour later. The familiar smell of lemon oil in the entrance hall made her muscles soften. She was home. She was safe. If only she could sleep for days.

She was well on her way to bed when her foot landed on the fifth tread of the staircase and it creaked.

‘Katrina, is that you?’ Her father’s voice called to her from the direction of his study.

She was about to call out her answer when he entered the hall in his dressing gown. It took all her effort not to run into his arms. ‘You are up rather late,’ she said.

‘I could not sleep. Did you enjoy yourself at the ball?’

She had never been able to lie to him. So she simply pasted on a smile.

‘Come with me to my study and you can tell me all about it while I put my papers in order.’

Reluctantly, Katrina walked down the stairs and followed him. He moved behind his massive desk, closed his inkwell, and shuffled through his papers.

‘Was the music to your liking?’

She nodded.

‘And the costumes? I imagine some were rather elaborate?’

Again, she nodded.

This time he looked at her over the rim of his glasses and tilted his head. When he narrowed his gaze on her, she shifted on her feet. He grabbed at her right hand from across his desk.

‘What has happened? Why do your wrists look as if you have been bleeding?’

She tugged her hand out of his. ‘It is nothing.’

‘Nothing!’ He stepped out from behind his desk to stand in front of her. ‘You have been injured. Was there an accident? Why was I not informed?’

His concern was too much. She could no longer continue the pretence that she was unaffected by what had happened. She threw her arms around her stunned father and held him tight.

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything when she began to cry. He just hugged her and patted her back as he had done when she was a little girl.

He waited patiently until she had finished crying before he spoke. ‘Tell me what happened.’

She took a deep breath and stepped back from him. ‘I am fine. Know that. The only harm that has come to me are these bruises on my wrists.’

He nodded, but there was wariness in his eyes. He guided her to a chair and she curled up on it. She told him what had happened and he listened without interrupting.

It wasn’t until she had finished that he finally spoke. ‘I knew any association you had with Lyonsdale would not end well.’

‘It is not his fault. You cannot blame him for what that woman did.’

Her father stood and paced the room. ‘That woman would not have done what she did if it weren’t for his interest in you.’

‘It is not as if he intended for this to happen.’

‘Why are you defending him?’ he demanded.

‘I’m not. However, I do find it grossly unfair to blame the man when the fault lies elsewhere.’

He stopped pacing and came to her. ‘We will agree to disagree on this subject.’

Chapter Twenty-Five

‘Y
ou need to move it more to the left.’

The footmen rehanging the massive painting shifted it according to Julian’s direction. He leaned against the wall opposite where they were hanging the portrait of the Fifth Duke and sipped his coffee. He had been having breakfast in his bedchamber when Reynolds had arrived to inform him the portrait had been located. Eager to see his mysterious ancestor, Julian had left his untouched plate and met him in the gallery.

This painting stood out from the others. It showed a man standing tall in a country setting, with a hooded falcon perched on his gloved hand. He looked out at the viewer with the expression of a man who enjoyed life. Julian almost smiled at the notion that Katrina probably wouldn’t have minded having him at her dinner table.