Beguiling the Earl (11 page)

After they’d exchanged a few pleasantries about the weather, Rose asked for permission to whisk Catherine away. He became alarmed when the girl started to lead Catherine to the group of young men waiting for her return.

“Miss Hardwick,” he called out after them.

Rose turned to face him. “Yes, my lord?”

He wanted to tell her to leave Catherine alone. To keep her away from the wolves who would descend upon her if given even the slightest encouragement, which so far this season she hadn’t seemed to offer. What he said, instead, was, “Are you here with your parents tonight?”

He ignored the frown both Louisa and Nicholas aimed at him. The only thing that mattered was that Catherine knew he was putting on a show of courting the Worthingtons’ favor.

Rose glanced at Catherine before replying. “They’ve gone ahead to our box. Mother has a touch of the headache and wasn’t up for the noise of the crowds.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Louisa said, smiling up at her husband. “I feel a little tired this evening as well.”

If Nicholas could have carried her the rest of the way, Kerrick had a very strong suspicion he would have done so. His wife wouldn’t have been pleased at the extra attention such an action would have earned them, though. After extracting his promise to show Catherine up to their box, Nicholas and Louisa left him.

It was still twenty-five minutes before the performance was due to begin. Kerrick made the rounds, greeting acquaintances along the way and stopping not far from where he’d started only a few minutes later. He’d been trying to appear unconcerned that his would-be fiancée and the woman he really wanted were both surrounded by young bucks eager to impress. The first was easy to accomplish, but the second was decidedly more difficult. He heard Catherine laugh at something one of the men said, and he knew the scowl that momentarily appeared before he could smooth it over would be seen as yet another indication of his intentions toward Miss Hardwick.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Lord Standish had come to a stop beside him and was staring with almost eager interest at Catherine and Rose.

He hoped Standish was referring to Rose, but his next words told him otherwise.

“It’s a pity you’re promised to the other one. But your loss is my gain.”

Kerrick’s blood turned to ice and he turned to face Standish. Despite the fact that he managed to keep from baring his teeth, no one would miss the threat implicit in his words. “You would do well to set your sights elsewhere.”

Standish made a soft tsking sound. “Don’t you think you’re being greedy?” His gaze turned again to Catherine and there was no mistaking the lasciviousness in his expression. “Rest assured, Miss Evans will be mine.”

When he turned to leave, Kerrick let him go without another word. Standish was known to thrive on conflict, and he’d be damned before he gave him the satisfaction of seeing that his words had struck terror in his heart.

He knew Nicholas would never allow Standish anywhere near Catherine. Still, he had to wrestle back the urge to march over to the group of young people—all of whom made him feel much older than this twenty-nine years—and drag Catherine away. Instead, he forced himself to make another circuit, even allowed himself to be dragged into conversation, before returning to collect Catherine.

She was smiling up at Lord Thornton, and the fact that he seemed to be amusing her soured his already dark mood.

“Your sister is no doubt wondering if you’ve gotten lost on the way to your seat.”

“I’d be more than happy to escort you to Overlea’s box,” Thornton said, not bothering to hide his enthusiasm.

Kerrick was grinding his teeth together to stop from telling the man what he thought of his suggestion when Catherine turned to Thornton and smiled in apology. “They have already entrusted Lord Kerrick with the task,” she said, taking the arm Kerrick offered.

Kerrick merely nodded to Rose and the men as he led Catherine away. They hadn’t gone far when he said, “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.” His words came out sharper than he’d intended. If Catherine noticed his annoyance, she didn’t show it.

“It was a little uncomfortable at first. I’m not used to being the center of attention. Back home there were very few young men my age, and what few there were certainly weren’t interested in associating with a family that lived next to poverty. I’m just glad Rose was with me.”

Normally he would have made some lighthearted, but nonetheless true, statement about what fools those boys had been. The fact that he didn’t do so now went a long way toward showing just how annoyed Kerrick was by the way Catherine had seemed to revel in all the attention bestowed on her.

“You’ll excuse me if I fail to thank her.”

She looked up at him then, startled by his tone. “Is something the matter?”

He shook his head, annoyed at himself for what could only be seen as a gross overreaction on his part.

“You’re angry.”

Leave it to Catherine not to let the matter drop. “It is nothing.”

A look of amazement lit her face. “It works,” she breathed in wonder.

Her expression threw him completely off balance. It reminded him so much of how she looked just before she came. He had to clear his throat before he could ask, “What works?”

“Her Grace… the Duchess of Clarington said that the best way to capture a man’s attention was to show interest in another man. Or several other men.”

He glared down at her. “Is that what you were doing? Trying to rouse my jealousy?” Never mind that it had worked.

She shook her head in denial. “Of course not. I have no reason to, do I? Not after last night.”

“Catherine…,” he said, voice low and sharp as he glanced around furtively to make sure no one had overheard.

She waved her hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry. No one is near enough to hear.”

She was going to be the death of him. Thankfully she said nothing further on the subject. They had reached the top of the stairs and started down the hallway outside the private boxes and there were people milling about.

He stopped short and had to pull Catherine to the side when someone almost ran into them. It took him a moment to realize it was Worthington. The older man seemed agitated and barely acknowledged them as he continued past. A prickle of unease settled at the base of his skull and he turned in time to see another figure moving away quickly at the far end of the hall. He was too far away and Kerrick couldn’t make out who it was. He could only see that it was a man with short brown hair and who seemed to be about his height. It could have been anyone. He considered following, but the man had melded into a group of theatergoers. Following him would only draw unwanted attention, and Kerrick couldn’t be certain he’d be able to pinpoint him in the crowd.

“That was unusual,” Catherine said, drawing Kerrick’s thoughts back to her. “Lord Worthington never misses an opportunity to speak to you. I wonder what could have had him so preoccupied.”

What, indeed. Damn. Perhaps Brantford’s information was correct after all and Worthington had involved himself in something for which he was quite ill suited.

“He was probably anxious about not missing the beginning of the play.” As if to underscore his words, the bells signaling that all guests should now be seated began to chime. “Come,” he said, hoping to distract Catherine from the other man’s curious behavior. “We should hurry before another search party is dispatched to find you.”

ooOoo

Kerrick had too many things on his mind to pay attention to the play. Something or someone—the man he’d seen disappearing down the hallway?—had set Worthington on edge. He had only his instincts on which to base that suspicion, but he’d long since learned to ignore them at his own peril.

And then there was Catherine. She sat next to him and he longed to reach out to her. At the very least, he felt an almost overwhelming need to take one of her hands, which were clasped demurely on her lap, into his and just hold on to her. Assure himself that what had happened the night before had actually taken place and that the connection between them was real. But Louisa sat on the other side of Catherine, and there was no way she wouldn’t see if he acted on his impulse. And so he sat there, trying to ignore both the urge to touch her and the scent of her that seemed to weave its way down to his very soul.

His frustration only mounted when Lord Thornton visited their box during the intermission. The frank appraisal on the other man’s face when he noticed Catherine’s low décolletage made him want to knock the boy’s teeth into the back of his throat. Instead, he excused himself and made his way to Worthington’s box.

As he’d expected, it was so filled with men vying for Rose’s attention that he barely had room to get inside. Upon seeing him, though, especially in the foul mood that had overtaken him, they stepped to the side to allow him passage.

He placed a light kiss on the back of Rose’s gloved hand when she offered it to him, wondering briefly at the amusement in her eyes, and asked her if she was enjoying the performance.

“I always enjoy a good comedy, Lord Kerrick,” she said, her manner telling him that she was referring to more than just the one taking place onstage.

“
Touché
, Miss Hardwick,” he said, allowing his own amusement to show.

She inclined her head in acknowledgment of the compliment.

Damn, but Catherine was right. If he weren’t forced to act the role of a man intent on making her his wife, he would actually like Rose Hardwick. Well, he didn’t precisely dislike her now, but he wasn’t altogether comfortable in her presence given the part he was playing.

Rose’s attention was immediately captured by another young man when Kerrick turned to greet her parents.

“Lady Worthington, Lord Worthington,” he said, taking a seat next to them. He couldn’t help but notice how pale Lady Worthington looked, and he recalled Rose saying her mother was feeling unwell. The woman seated beside him now looked like she was suffering from more than just a headache. “I heard you weren’t feeling quite yourself, Lady Worthington.”

The smile she offered him was a pale imitation of her normally effusive one. “It is nothing that a good night’s rest won’t cure.”

“And a few hours away from the constant crush, no doubt.” There was no point in denying the crowds that surrounded the Worthingtons’ daughter everywhere she went.

Lady Worthington shrugged, the small movement saying more effectively than words that she was used to it. No doubt she’d gone through the same when she was younger. Kerrick guessed she was only in her forties now, and she was still a striking woman. He wasn’t sure how Worthington had managed to capture her as his wife, not if she’d been even half as popular as her daughter.

“I was thinking,” he said, turning his attention now to her husband, “that we haven’t yet had the opportunity to get to know one another very well. We should remedy that.”

The carrot dangled, Worthington reached for it like a starving man. “That’s a capital idea,” he said, his chest puffing out as he contemplated the significance behind Kerrick’s offer. He didn’t come out and say it, but it was clear Worthington already thought of him as his all-but-in-name son-in-law. “I like to go riding early in the morning. A habit I picked up during my youth that I still enjoy today. I don’t suppose you’d care to join me? I know you young men nowadays like to stay up all night gambling and whatnot and only return home as I’m heading out.”

It was an obvious test of his character, and Kerrick smiled smoothly as he assumed the role of the perfect man for Rose Hardwick. “I’m not one for gambling,” he said. “Not unless I know I can win. And I admit I haven’t had as much opportunity to go riding as I’d like since I arrived in town.”

“Splendid,” Worthington said. If his wife hadn’t been seated between them, Kerrick knew the man would have clapped him on the back. “Shall we say seven a.m. at Rotten Row? It should be quiet at that hour.”

“I look forward to it,” Kerrick said before rising and taking his leave.

When he returned to the Overlea box, Thornton was gone. The expression in Catherine’s eyes when she met his was one of amusement, and in their depths he could all but see her assurance that he was the only one she saw as a romantic partner. He was glad she didn’t view Thornton in that way, but that didn’t make him dislike the man any less.

His mind more at ease now that he’d make plans to get closer to Worthington, Kerrick was able to enjoy the rest of the play. He’d read
The Taming of the Shrew
while at school but had never seen it performed. The thought had originally occurred to him that it would be nice to tame Catherine’s impetuousness, but as he watched he found himself disturbed by the way Petruchio went about taming his shrewish wife. He couldn’t help thinking that she hadn’t been tamed—she’d been broken. Catherine might try his patience, but the very last thing he’d want was to see her spirit destroyed in the same way.

When the curtain lowered at the end of the fifth act, they remained in their box to avoid the crush of bodies moving to leave the theater at once. A few men came to their box to chat with Nicholas. Kerrick didn’t miss the way his friend dragged his wife closer to his side as speculation entered the eyes of one man, well-known for his dalliances with married women of the
ton
, who was meeting the new Marchioness of Overlea for the first time.

Nicholas and Louisa’s preoccupation gave him the opportunity to have a few moments alone with Catherine as they moved to the other side of the box.

“Should I come by later tonight?” Her voice was pitched low so no one would overhear them.

Kerrick had to close his eyes for a moment as he struggled against the tide of lust that surged through him at the suggestion. When he opened them again, the eagerness in Catherine’s eyes told him that she was in earnest. She’d actually risk her reputation and her safety to visit him again if he allowed it.

“Do that and I’ll have to turn you over my knee,” he said. That thought did nothing to help curb his desire as an image of Catherine, bared from the waist down and spread over his thighs, came to mind. The reproof, however, had Catherine pouting in disappointment.