Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book (25 page)

“It certainly sounds like a daunting task,” Lady Kensington said.

Lord Wentworth returned his attention to Mother. “It will be a quite the showplace. I imagine it will take at least a year or two for the workmen to complete the improvements. They are tearing into things even as we speak.”

“Do you think that means Lord Huntley will still spend a great deal of time in London?” Catherine asked. Her mother shot her a warning look, and Catherine flushed as she quickly tried to recover. “His absence has been a frequent topic of conversation of late. I’m sure his return to London will put many hearts at ease.” Her explanation sounded thin, even to her own ears.

“
En garde
, Lady Catherine,” Huntley’s voice came from behind her.

Mortified, she snapped her head around and found Huntley standing at her shoulder. “Lord Huntley, you startled me.” The blush deepened on her face.

Wentworth stifled a smile and said, “You’ve embarrassed the young lady, Huntley. You’re a sneaky devil to slip up behind her that way.”

Huntley offered a graceful bow of apology. “My most abject apologies, Lady Catherine. I hope you’ll forgive me.” His teasing grin made her breath catch in her throat.

Catherine flipped open her fan to flutter it, trying to hide her lingering shock at the words “
en garde
.” He certainly didn’t act as though he had a guilty conscience. Perhaps he really hadn’t been the source of Stansbury’s information. She forced a small laugh and flipped her fan closed. “Someone should put a bell around your neck, Lord Huntley.”

He tilted his head to one side, as if considering the idea, but then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. It would make it much too difficult for me to overhear what others are saying.”

“Be careful what you wish for, m’lord. Eavesdroppers seldom hear anything good of themselves,” she quipped.

“Ouch! You scored a direct hit. Are you saying that I’m both an eavesdropper and a scoundrel?” His mood was playful, and she began to relax. “Point to Lady Catherine.”

Upon hearing another fencing reference, Catherine hesitated, but she recovered quickly. “A direct hit? I’m surprised to hear you admit your character flaws so readily. But if the shoe fits...”

He staggered slightly, as if hit in the chest. “Another point. I seem to be dropping further and further in your estimation, Lady Catherine. You must allow me to recover. Perhaps if we dance, I can regain some measure of your esteem. Would you care to join me?”

Catherine frowned, but quickly replaced it with a bland smile. “I regret I’m already engaged for this waltz. Lord Stansbury requested I save it for him, but he hasn’t yet come for me.”
And I hope the annoying man will stay away.
“Perhaps, unlike you, he hasn’t been able to locate me in this crush of people.”

“What a shame for him. I’m sure he’ll be most disappointed, but his loss is my gain since I can enjoy your company while you wait for him. You look quite lovely tonight. You make me think of mermaids and the sea.” He gazed down into Catherine’s eyes, confusing her with the intensity of his expression.

The crowd shifted, and when Catherine and Huntley allowed two gentlemen cutting through the crowd to pass by, she realized they were momentarily separated from the rest of their party. Bodies pressed around them, filling in the void left by the two passing men and providing her with a strange sense of intimacy in this public setting as they were physically pushed together.

Huntley leaned down, putting his mouth close to her ear. “I want to reassure you that your secret is safe with me,” he murmured so that only she could hear. “I owe you an enormous debt of honor. You may well have saved my life, at great personal risk, and if there’s ever anything I can do to help you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Jostled from behind, Catherine stumbled against Huntley. His hands shot out to grasp her waist, preventing her from falling, nearly spanning the circumference with his firm hands.

His touch sent a vibration along the stays of her corset as though he had plucked a harp string. The heat of his palms seared through the layers of fabric, scorching her.

Huntley’s eyes widened as he, too, reacted to their touch. She felt his fingertips catch against the corset strings running up her back and hidden by the thin fabric of her gown, and she shivered at the sensation. The heat of her body reacted with the rose-scented perfume she’d applied earlier, and the scent enveloped her. Huntley pulled her closer, and she wanted nothing more than to feel the length of her body pressed against his.

A passing stranger’s elbow to her ribs brought her abruptly back to her surroundings. What was she thinking? They were in public, in a crowded room, standing right in front of her mother.

The spell broke, and his hands dropped. She stepped back as the press of the crowd eased, and she looked away.

Catherine caught her mother’s keen gaze. Her sharp eyes had seen a part of what had passed between her and the marquess. Catherine shot her a sheepish look, and a slight smile flickered across her mother’s face before it was replaced by a more stern expression.

Catherine glanced up at Huntley, tilting her head back to look at him. She watched as he surveyed the room, and his eyes locked on something she couldn’t see. The corners of his mouth tipped down.

“It appears your escort has located you after all,” he pointed out, tipping his head toward Stansbury’s oncoming figure.

Catherine froze. She’d forgotten Stansbury for a moment, along with all of her problems. Her stomach fell at the sight of the man and his intense gaze. Whatever his plans for the evening, she was now firmly in his sights. She instinctively stepped back from his approach but bumped against another guest. She was trapped by the crowd.

Huntley shifted his weight and moved between Catherine and the oncoming earl, momentarily shielding her from his approach. She looked down at her hands, clutching one another, and was startled when he laid his larger one over them. She glanced up and caught his gaze.

“Is everything all right?” he asked.

No
. But she bit her lip and nodded. She could do this. She tamped down her welling emotions, forcing them to submit to her control. It would be better to get the dance over with and be done with the man.

“Everything’s fine. Lord Stansbury isn’t an accomplished dancer and I fear for my toes,” she said, which was true. “But since the waltz is nearly over, I’d prefer to keep this dance with him. That is much preferable to having him request another in its place.” Seeing the look of doubt in Huntley’s face, she smiled and reassured him again. “I’ll be fine.”

“Then may I have the next dance? I wanted to speak to you again.” He swallowed. “I want to be clear on this point. Tonight, I plan to announce...”

“Lady Catherine! Did you forget our dance?” Lord Stansbury pushed his way between Catherine and Lord Huntley, keeping his back to the marquess. He snatched her arm in a possessive fashion and then turned his head slightly to the side, addressing Huntley over his shoulder. In a disdainful tone, he said, “The lady is engaged for this waltz, sir.”

Without waiting for a response, he hustled Catherine toward the dance floor through a momentary break in the crowd.

31 - A Mouse!

Stansbury pulled Catherine into the swirl of dancers, and they fell in place in the circling throng.

“It’s most unbecoming for a lady to agree to dance with one gentleman and then jilt him for another. I’d expected better of you.” He sounded like a petulant child.

Before answering, she took a deep breath and counted to three. “Truly, Lord Stansbury?” she asked, using a frigid tone. “But this waltz is more than half-finished. Since you didn’t collect me at the start of this dance, I believe
you
owe
me
an apology. I was under no obligation to wait as long as I did for you to appear.”

He scowled. “Perhaps I was a bit tardy, Catherine, but still, you should not have been chatting with another man when you were supposed to be with me.” His lower lip jutted out.

“Lord Stansbury,” Catherine said, her back stiffening, “I do not recall giving you permission to address me in such an informal manner. I am ‘
Lady
Catherine.’ After the lecture you just gave me concerning proper etiquette, I’m surprised by your lapse.”

His hand tightened at her waist. “I was under the impression that my request for your hand in marriage had altered our relationship,” he said in a clipped tone. “Rest assured,
Lady
Catherine, I meant no impertinence. Perhaps you simply need more time to become acquainted with me.”

The man was brazen in his persistence.

“We should not be having this conversation in public, sir. The dance floor is hardly the place for it. I believe I made myself clear regarding your attentions both when you offered for me last year and again a few nights ago when you tried to blackmail me.” Catherine tried to compose her face so that their inappropriate dance floor conversation would not draw undue attention. “My opinion has not changed, and I would prefer not to discuss it any further.” She instilled a note of finality in her voice, hoping to put an end to the subject.

As they rounded the far end of the dance floor, a gap opened near the entrance to the ballroom. Stansbury used the momentum of their steps to swing them out into the surrounding group of people, nearly barreling over the few who stood there.

“We need to finish our discussion
now
, Lady Catherine,” he said as he pressed her through one of the arched, curtained doorways with one arm still wrapped firmly around her waist. They emerged in a long hallway.

“Perhaps through here.” He hustled her into a nearby room. Guests lingering in the hallway watched their passage with open mouths.

Catherine found herself in the Duke of Norfolk’s study. It was empty except for the two of them. A fire burned in the fireplace, and the gaslights gave off a soft glow.

Stansbury kicked the door shut behind him with his heel.

“Really, sir, I must insist that you release me.” Catherine struggled against his loathsome grip on her waist, pushing against his chest with the flat of her gloved hand. His grip loosened and she broke free.

“We need to talk.” He stepped closer to her.

His determined expression was at odds with his weak and self-serving character, and the realization startled her. A chill crept down her spine.

Was this the
real
Stansbury?

She took a cautious step back, but this only encouraged him. With a rapacious gleam in his eye, his hand darted out and grabbed her right wrist.

“I know about the games girls like you play.” He pressed forward, pushing her against the wall. He twisted her right hand painfully behind her back.

She tried to slap his face with her left hand, but the angle was awkward and her blow was weak. He snatched that hand as well and leaned the full weight of his body against hers, immobilizing her against the wall.

Seeing red, Catherine tried to raise her knee and ram it between his legs, but thick crinolines layered under her ball gown hampered her movements. She made partial contact, but her knee was so cushioned that the impact had little effect.

He grinned in delight. “You’re a tempestuous little minx. This will make our marriage that much more pleasurable. We’ll be engaged before you leave this room.” He slammed his body against hers, ramming her in the ribs and pressing her against the wall with the weight of his heavy body. He leaned in to claim her mouth with his. His lips were brutal as he tried to force a kiss.

She turned her head to the side and leaned away from his face. She tried to leverage her weight to pull away from him while simultaneously using her shoulder to push off from the wall.

“Stop!” she cried, squeezing her eyes shut as she struggled to escape. This couldn’t be happening! Desperate to get away, Catherine strained against the man’s odious touch as she tried to push him off her. He moaned in her ear as he pressed his lips against her taut neck, leaving a trail of wetness as he licked her.

She let out a scream of frustration as she shoved at him. This oaf was too heavy for her to move.

Suddenly, the press of Stansbury’s weight against her body disappeared, and Catherine opened her eyes to see Huntley spinning the man around to face him. Huntley’s fist smashed against Stansbury’s chin, causing the cur to spin back toward her from the impact.

As the earl fell forward, Catherine mounted her own furious attack. Dropping low, she darted forward and caught him in the stomach with her shoulder as she threw her full weight into him. He crashed backward and crumpled to the floor, retching from the blow to his belly.

“How
dare
you! You
vile
little man!” she cried, her voice shaking with fury. She stalked toward Stansbury, her fists clenched. The man curled into a ball on the floor, clutching at his stomach.

“You might want to stand back.” Huntley tried to move between her and Stansbury.

Catherine shot him a glare. “Are you trying to protect him from me?” Turning her attention back to the sniveling man on the floor, she saw him begin to climb to his feet, and something in her snapped. She lashed out with her slippered foot, intent on making contact with his ribs with a well-placed kick. But before she could strike the blow, Huntley grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him as Stansbury collapsed back onto the floor in fright.