Twice the Temptation (12 page)

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Authors: Beverley Kendall

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical romance, #Victorian

BOOK: Twice the Temptation
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“You didn’t love her yet you asked for her hand?”

“I told you, as far as I knew, she was widowed and expecting a child. I was a man of means and nearing his thirtieth year. I had never been in love and perhaps I feared I would never be. For a brief time, I thought your sister would fit the role of my wife.” He gave a helpless shrug.

 

A
s much as Catherine wanted to believe him, she knew better. Everyone preferred Charlotte to her. It had been that way their entire lives. Too be fair, the truth of it was her twin was simply easier to love.

Charlotte
was
sweet and generous, where she herself could at times be blunt and intractable. Where her sister didn’t possess a devious bone in her body, she herself had done things that could no doubt define the meaning of the word. Yes, they may be identical in appearance but that is where their similarities ended. Any gentleman seeking a wife would be a fool to choose her over her sister and Lucas Beaumont was not a fool in any shape or form.

“I can’t accept your suit knowing that—well knowing what I do. I simply cannot.” How could he not understand that this revelation changed everything? And how would she ever know for certain that his feelings for her sister hadn’t been redirected to her once it’d become apparent Charlotte was in love with someone else?

“Catherine.” His voice was coaxing.

Shaking her head, Catherine inhaled a deep breath, retreating several steps to create some space between them. “Lucas, I can’t. Please don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

When he made a move toward her, his mouth set in a determined line, she held her hand up to forestall him. “I would appreciate it if you would leave. I don’t believe we have anything left to say to one another.”

He pulled back, almost mid-stride and narrowed his gaze at her, accessing. “So that is it? There can be nothing between us because I met your sister first?”

“Not because you met her first but because you felt enough for her to ask for her hand in marriage.” Catherine fairly snapped out her reply, her fragile composure disintegrating to ash.

His mouth opened as if to speak but he abruptly closed it. A myriad of emotions flickered across his face: agitation, aggravation, hurt and anger. A look in his eyes and she could see he was all of those.

For nearly a half minute, he did nothing but stare at her as if he felt he could change her mind by the sheer will of his own.

Catherine traced the hard lines of his too-handsome features and the year-old yearning that had recently found relief since his reappearance in her life, started anew. Knowing they wouldn’t be together, that she would never again kiss those lips, be enfolded in his strong arms cut through her like a jagged blade. The pain, first a pinprick, bloomed and expanded until it encompassed all of her. She blinked back tears and endeavored to maintain her composure. God let her hold herself together at least until he was gone.

“Then I shall go.” His voice, hoarse and low, broke the cloying silence.

Catherine struggled to stifle the sob that was welling in her throat and the pain spearing her chest.

His gaze lingered on her one last time before he turned and walked to the door. He paused there, drew in an audible breath, straightened to his full height, his shoulders squared, and chin up. Seconds later, he was gone, the door left ajar.

Gone.

It took several seconds for the reality of what had just taken place to sink in. Catherine’s vision blurred as she walked backward until her mulberry plaid skirt brushed the sofa and the back of her knees made solid contact. Slowly, she sank down onto the sofa, her hands blindly seeking comfort in the plump cushions.

A sob caught in her throat. She heard the faint creak of the door opening. Charlotte. It could only be her. Catherine couldn’t bear to look at her, as she wanted nothing more than to be alone.

She didn’t lift her head when Charlotte sat down next to her and silently took both her cold, clammy hands in hers.

“Dearest, if you never believe another word I ever say, I know Lucas loves you.”

“No he loved you,” she sniffed.

Charlotte let out a heavy sigh. “This is precisely the reason I did not tell you about the proposal. I knew all it would do was hurt you and muddy the waters.”

“No, what it has done is made me aware of his true motives and you knew
that
would be hurtful.” Her sister’s first instinct was always to protect those she loved. Here was yet another case of that.

“Do you truly think if I actually believed that, I would tell you otherwise?” Charlotte asked, gently weaving their fingers together. “More than anything in the world, I want you to be happy. I would not welcome Lucas into my home if I thought he had those sorts of feelings for me—if I thought he didn’t truly love you.”

Catherine raised her head and regarded her sister. “But how can you possibly know? You haven’t seen him since he left.”

“Because I know Lucas. It’s not any woman that could get him to leave his country and the running of his company to someone else.”

Catherine had no doubt her sister believed that just as she believed Lucas did. She sincerely wished she believed it. That she should find the man of her dreams, a husband she’d long despaired she’d never find. Would it not have been lovely to find marital bliss just as her sister and brother had? But that wasn’t to be.

“Lottie, you don’t understand. You have Alex. For you it has always been Alex and for Alex it has long been you—probably since before you entered society. You’ve not really ever had to doubt his feelings for you. How can I ever be assured that Lucas’s feelings for me are not borne of not being able to have you?” She stared at her twin and swallowed. “I would always wonder for I could never be sure. Would he feel differently about me if there were no Alex, no man who held your heart in the palm of his hand. Would he feel differently about you if you’d accepted his proposal and you were man and wife when he first met me?”

“But he never loved me like that,” Charlotte cried.

Catherine shook her head. “I just couldn’t. And I wouldn’t subject Lucas to such a marriage.”

“But Katie, you love him.
You love him.
And he loves you.”

The former she could not deny so she did not, offering nothing in response. But the veracity of the latter could truly never be known. Certainly not as long as her sister remained unavailable to him, which equated to the rest of her sister’s life.

“You are twenty-five years and have been in love only once. Another love like this may never come along. Believe me I know this to be true.” Charlotte’s eyes beseeched as she held tight to Catherine’s clenched hands.

Catherine swallowed around the lump that had formed in her throat. As if she needed any reminders of that fact. And deep inside, she’d always known that when she did love, the fall would be from a prodigious height and the landing, one she may not survive fully intact. That had certainly come to fruition.

Sadly, the man she’d fallen so hard for had wanted her sister first. And men who’d reached for a crown jewel would never be content with a defective imitation cobbled together with paste.

 

 

 

 

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

 

H
is most excellent physician had once told him that sleep had a restorative effect not just on the body but on the mind as well. Lucas supposed it may have done had he actually been able to sleep and not fought and lost the fight as he’d wrestled with his bedding the majority of the night.

Sleep may have proved elusive, but the morning did not. The weak sunlight trying to peek through the tasseled curtains covering his bedroom windows didn’t help matters much. His disposition hadn’t improved one iota since he’d returned from seeing Catherine the day before.

In actuality, he hadn’t returned directly to the house. Unwilling to inflict his dark mood on his sisters and their chaperone, he’d found a tavern in town and planted himself at a small table for the duration of the night. He’d eaten a little around dinnertime and had drunk a fair amount throughout. But he hadn’t drunk enough that by the time he returned to the house late that evening, he’d been quickly able to find sleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

He remained abed until his valet knocked on his door at quarter to ten, only then did he force himself to rise and face the day. The prospect was ominous. His head throbbed dully behind his eyes.

At half past ten, he descended the stairs attired in shirtsleeves and dark wool trousers. Informality was the call of the day as he hadn’t any intentions of receiving callers nor would he be calling on anyone.

Upon entering the breakfast room, his sisters, who were both seated at the white-linen table eating, directed their attention to him.

The room’s dimensions fit the rest of the leased house; compact, efficient, not one inch of wasted space. He’d chosen the house because it was the nearest, fully furnished accommodations he could get to Rutherford Manor and had four decent-sized bedrooms and was fully staffed. The house seemed superfluous now. They could have gotten by just fine with his mother’s townhouse in London and the bachelor’s flat he kept there. There was nothing to keep them in Reading now.

His greeting to them was little more than a grunt as he headed straight to the sideboard, which held silver-covered dishes of that morning’s offerings.

“Good morning, Luke.” Lydia was all smiles, her disposition as sunny as the yellow frock she wore, which immediately evoked a swell of guilt for his own despondency.

He forced a smile on lips that never felt less like smiling and glanced at her over his shoulder. “I take it the bed was to your liking?”

Brown curls bounced against her shoulders as she nodded. Her unabashed enthusiasm Lucas attributed to this being her first visit to England and not the accommodations that weren’t as grand as their residence in New York.

“Very good.” He turned and began to put together a plate. After he finished, he took his place at the head of the table.

“I didn’t hear you come in last night,” Caroline remarked, her mouth poised over the lip of the teacup she held in her hand. She took a healthy sip and then picked the half-eaten scone slathered with strawberry preserves up from her plate.

“It’s obvious you didn’t remain up long enough,” he shot back smartly. Where their mother had largely exempted herself from her duties to her children, his sister believed it was a role she should assume, never mind he was fourteen years her senior.

“But where did you go? What kept you out so late?” she asked before taking a bite. She spoke as if she had every right to know.

“Where I went is none of your business,” he answered mildly.

Blessed silence reigned while she finished chewing. Lucas took that opportunity to start on his own food.

“But you always say that,” Caroline groused. At times, his sister sounded more like a petulant child than a twenty-year-old woman.

“Then it’s a wonder you continue to question me on the subject of my comings and goings.”

“Did you see Charlotte—oh dear what did you say her new name is now that she’s married?” Lydia asked.

“Lady Avondale,” he supplied.

“Yes, Lady Avondale. Did you say she is now a countess?” Lydia persisted.

“A marchioness,” he corrected, keeping his answers short for the sake of expediency. His food would be cold and his coffee undrinkable if he entertained his sisters’ questions.

“When will you take us to see Charlotte? You promised we would see her, Nicholas, and the new babe when we came.”

Lucas suppressed a sigh. He’d planned on taking them to visit today. But with Catherine actually staying with Charlotte and the marquess’ presence, he wouldn’t be able to fulfill his promise—at least not at the moment.

“Another time. My plan is that we go back to London. It’s the best time to go to the opera and theater. Once the Season starts in earnest, you’re schedules won’t permit it.”

“Why are we going back to London so soon?” Caroline asked, a distinct whine to her voice. “I’d prefer it if we didn’t have to stay with mother.”

Lucas couldn’t fault her for that. “No doubt, our mother won’t be at the townhouse for long.” Mrs. Agnes Fairchild couldn’t survive a week much less an entire three months without a man at her beck and call—and in her bed. That she was still a beautiful woman made it so that that wasn’t usually something likely to occur. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised to find she’s vacated the premises already.”

Lucas preferred that their chaperone, Mrs. White, be responsible for his sisters’ care when he wasn’t present. Left to their mother, Caroline and Lydia might very well turn out just like her. He’d made pains to make sure that didn’t happen.

“And Charlotte’s twin? What of her?” The naked curiosity burning in Caroline’s eyes belied the nonchalance at which she issued the question.

Save the twins themselves, Lucas had spoken to no one else regarding his feelings and intentions toward her. Though given his behavior upon finding her on the terrace alone with Billings, no doubt Caroline had rightly concluded that she was more than a passing acquaintance. Much more.

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