Imitation of Love (10 page)

When the heat in the room became too
much, she used it as an excuse to escape to the garden and get her breath back.
Whilst there was still some frost in the mornings, the weather had become
milder as Spring began.

Oakley Mansion, whilst not having grounds
as extensive as Oakley Castle, had a pretty garden, where daffodils and
snowdrops covered the flowerbeds. Fairy lights in the trees gave the grounds an
ethereal glow. Catherine walked the paths, taking deep breaths and trying to
calm her fevered brow.

“Are you tired of your admirers
already?”

Catherine turned to see Oakley following
her. Now she was alone with him, she wished he would go away. She was afraid he
might be unkind to her again, and she did not have the strength to argue back.

“I’m not used to so much dancing. And I
rather think they were Alyssa’s admirers, who were only dancing with me until
she was available.”

“You’re too modest. I’ve already had two
young men approach me declaring undying love for you, and asking for your
hand.”

“That’s ludicrous. I’ve hardly said two
words to the majority of the men who asked me to dance. I hope you told them I
wasn’t in the market for a husband.”

“I’d never be foolish enough to make
such a blanket statement, even if you are.”

“Yes, I forget. Your plan is to unload
me and my nefarious behaviour as soon as possible.”

“Now you’re being childish. The two
young men who asked are from good families, and would be able to offer you a
good life.”

“I don’t want this sort of life,” said
Catherine. “Where husbands and wives are frowned upon for spending time
together, and each find a lover as soon as a respectable amount of time has
passed. I may have done something that you believe is reprehensible, but I have
not yet had to sell myself in order to eat.”

“You were quite content to sell your
sister.”

Catherine raised her hand to slap him,
but he caught it before she reached his face. “Don’t ever try to strike me
again, Catherine. I don’t believe in hitting women, but I also believe it cuts
both ways. A lady should never strike a man either.”

“I hate you!”

“Really?” At that he pulled her into his
arms and kissed her. She wanted to pull away. She should have stopped him, but
being in his arms and feeling his mouth on hers was everything she’d ever
wanted. She let herself fall into the kiss, forgetting propriety and that she
was supposed to hate him. Just as quickly as he’d grabbed her, he set her away
from him. “I apologise,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Xander…” she whispered softly.

“I’ll speak to the young men who
approached me, and let you know their names. I trust you’ll take at least one
of the offers seriously.”

“You want me to marry someone else? After
that kiss?”

“I think the sooner you’re married the
better.”

“Yes,” said Catherine, struggling to
restrain her temper. “You’re right. I’m a danger to myself if I allow one to kiss
convince me a man cares for me. Since you’re obviously so wise and all-knowing,
why don’t you choose my husband from the likely contenders? I’ll abide by your
decision. Just tell me where to be on my wedding day.” She was gratified to see
that he looked as shocked as if she had slapped him.

***

Catherine had never felt so homesick.
She’d just about convinced herself that Willoughby Manor wasn’t her home
anymore. But the morning after the ball, after a sleepless and distressful
night, she wished she was there, in her old room overlooking the park.  They’d
had nothing, but it made life much less complicated.

She had some money left over from the
funds Mr. Oakley had given her for the dressmaker, having only bought what was
necessary, despite his insistence she bought an entire wardrobe. She guessed
that like most men he wouldn’t really notice what she wore, or whether she was
seen in the same dress twice. It was the sort of thing only other women
noticed. He could probably get his money back for most of them. She’d have no
need for such gowns in the country.

The question was whether Cousin George
would be willing to take her in. She would have to throw herself at his mercy
and make him see that he couldn’t abandon her. Anything would be better than Mr.
Oakley choosing a husband for her, and having to spend her life with a man she
could never love as she loved him.

She thought of writing to Cousin George
first, but decided it might have more impact if she just turned up on the
doorstep. As it was early, and the ball had finished extremely late, everyone
else in the house had slept in. If Catherine were to escape Aunt Harriet, she
would have to be quick. She dressed in a dark blue travelling coat, and put on
a matching bonnet. She wrote a quick note to Alyssa, and with just a few things
in a bag, she left the house long before Kitty was meant to wake her.

London in the morning was fascinating to
see, before all the hustle and bustle began. Apart from some young urchins out
and about, there were few people around. She began to wish she could spend more
time in the Capital. She and Alyssa had meant to be going sightseeing with Aunt
Harriet. She felt a pang as she thought of how she’d left Alyssa. But her
sister’s happiness was assured. Catherine had no doubt that the love Alyssa and
Harrington shared was going to last beyond the Season. Whilst Alyssa had been
surrounded by doting young men the night before, her eyes had scoured the room
for Harrington. She looked apprehensive until she found him in the crowd and
her frown quickly turned into a smile.

As far as Catherine was concerned, she
had done her best for her sister. She could do no more. If she did feel a pang of
guilt at leaving Alyssa, the memory of Xander’s kiss and his cruel words afterwards
spurred her on through the early morning streets.  Had her mind not been in
such turmoil, she would have considered that there would be no welcome for her
from Cousin George, and she might even have to retrace her steps, having no-one
else to protect her. But she was committed to the course upon which she’d set,
and nothing would change her mind.

She headed towards a coaching company,
hoping she would be able to find one going north towards Willoughby Manor. As
she walked, she became aware of a black closed in carriage moving slowly behind
her.

“Miss Willoughby…” a familiar voice
said. “It is Miss Willoughby, isn’t it?”

She turned around to see Mrs. Somerson
leaning out of the window. “Good morning,” said Catherine, in polite but icy
tones. The carriage stopped alongside her, and she saw that it had two rather burly
looking men sitting at the front.

“Where are you headed on this fine
morning? May I offer you a lift?”

Something made the back of Catherine’s
neck tingle. A feeling that all was not right. Mrs. Somerson was being polite
to her for a start. That the lady was awake at such an early hour was another
concern. “Thank you,” said Catherine. “But I’d rather walk. I need the
exercise.”

“Oh but it’s much nicer to see London in
a carriage, I always think. Please, come and join me. I feel I owe you an
apology for my behaviour at Oakley Castle.”

“I think Kitty is the one in need of an
apology,” said Catherine.

“Yes, that is why I wish to speak to
you. Mr. Oakley is furious with me. And justifiably so. I behaved badly. I was
heartbroken you see, because … well, there are things I am sure he would rather
I did not discuss with his ward. I’d hoped that you might convince him that I
see the error of my ways and wish to seek his forgiveness.”

“I do not think I wish to become
involved,” said Catherine. “Besides, I’m going away. I shan’t be seeing him for
some time.” As soon as the words were out, Catherine knew she’d made a grave
mistake. The two men, as if by some silent design, jumped down from the
carriage and grabbed her. Before she could scream, one clamped his dirty hand
over her mouth, whilst the other put a sack over her head. She struggled
violently, but they were too strong for her.

“Quickly, quickly!” a woman’s voice
said. It wasn’t Mrs. Somerson, and in her panic, Catherine could not place the
speaker. “Get her in the carriage.”

She was thrown roughly into the carriage,
and pinned in place, struggling to break free all the time. “Be quiet, you
stupid girl!” Someone clouted her hard around the head, and she fell into
blackness.

Catherine didn’t know how long she was
unconscious, only that when she came to, the sounds outside seemed to have
changed. The city of London, even in the morning, had its own particular rhythm.
But Catherine was a country girl, and it didn’t take her long to realize they’d
travelled into the countryside. She put her hand to her aching head and
realized that somewhere along the way she’d lost her blue bonnet.

“Are you going to be sensible?” the
woman asked. “If not we will have to kill you.”

“Yes.”

She felt the sacking being pulled from
her, and struggled for a moment to focus. She found that she was sitting
between Phoebe Somerson, and the French maid, Celine.

 It was Celine’s voice she heard, but
with a lower class English accent. She seemed to be very much in control of the
situation.

“So Mr. Oakley believes you are going
away?” said Celine. “It is no good trying to lie. We’ve already heard you say
it.”

“Yes. I left a note saying that I was
travelling North to my old home. But they’re sure to find out I haven’t reached
my destination.”

“Willoughby Manor is a full day’s travel
from London,” said Celine, who was clearly very well informed. “It will take
you a day to get there, and even if they write to you, it won’t be soon, I
shouldn’t think.  Not when you’ve only just left. So that’s at least another
day for the letter to reach Willoughby, and another day for your cousin –
George isn’t it? – to write back and say you didn’t arrive. By then it will all
be over.”

Catherine didn’t want to admit that no
one might write to her at all, apart from Alyssa, and even she might wait a
week or so. Mr. Oakley would be glad to see the back of her, and she felt sure
no one else who would miss her absence. “What will be over?”

“Our task. The one you are going to help
us with. Since you made it impossible for us to continue.”

“What do you mean?”

“You told Mr. Oakley the names on the
forged letters of introduction. Now they’re unusable, so you have to create
more.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Catherine’s mind was working overtime. Celine had clearly been listening at the
study door. Had she also picked up on Xander being the Captain? She prayed that
was not the case. Neither of them had said he was. Though there had been hints.

“Don’t play innocent with me. We know it
was you who forged the documents.”

“It was my brother, Jimmy and he’s dead.
I suppose it was your men who killed him.”

“They’ll kill you if you don’t
cooperate.”

“So be it. Even if I were able to do it,
I’d rather die than help you.”

“Then when you’re dead, we’ll travel
back to London and kill your sister.”

“Don’t you dare hurt Alyssa!”

Celine gripped Catherine’s arm. “Then
you’d better do as we say.”

Catherine struggled for a moment,
thinking she might jump out, but the carriage was going too fast. She didn’t
fear death, if that was what awaited her, but she did fear it happening
painfully over a long period of time as she lay with broken limbs in a ditch
somewhere in the countryside. She knew they were going to kill her anyway. That
much was certain. They couldn’t afford to let her live once they’d forced her
to complete the task they set her. Just as they’d killed Jimmy to silence him. 
But she couldn’t let them hurt Alyssa. Her sister was an innocent in all of
this. Although she knew about Catherine being involved in the forgery, she knew
nothing of the details. What Xander said about Alyssa suffering for her
behaviour was coming true, but she hadn’t thought for a moment that such a
thing would happen.