Beguiling the Earl (3 page)

The flare of annoyance on Nicholas’s face told him they were both thinking of what they’d gone through the previous fall when Nicholas had enlisted Kerrick’s help. At the time, Nicholas had thought he was suffering from the same illness that had already taken his brother and father, and he had asked Kerrick to father a child with Louisa to keep the marquisate from falling into his unscrupulous cousin’s grasp. Kerrick had been reluctant to agree to the plan from the beginning and had decided he wouldn’t go through with it when he realized, not long after meeting her, that Louisa was very much in love with her new husband.

It also hadn’t taken him long to discover that Nicholas, even though he tried to deny it, very much wanted his wife only for himself. A lesser man would have taken advantage of the opportunity provided by Nicholas’s scheme. Louisa was a beautiful woman, after all, and at the time she’d been trapped in a marriage with a man who went to great lengths to distance himself from her. But despite her seeming fragility, Nicholas’s wife had a core of steel, and he’d known right away that she wouldn’t be swayed by any efforts on his part to seduce her. And he’d respected his friend’s feelings too much to even attempt it. He was only glad that everything had worked out in the end.

“What am I missing?” Clarington asked, breaking into the heavy silence.

Nicholas was the first to look away. “Nothing,” he said, his jaw tight. “Ancient history.”

Kerrick didn’t elaborate. One of the reasons Nicholas had chosen to approach him about fathering his heir was the knowledge that Kerrick would take the secret of his insane plan to the grave. Clarington had been away on his honeymoon at the time and hadn’t even learned of Nicholas’s marriage until the whole situation had been resolved.

“We should go, then. An afternoon of investigating greenery awaits us,” Clarington said in an obvious attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

The four who made up their party for the outing exited the house amidst a chorus of good-byes and general chatter. Clarington helped first his wife, then Catherine, into the waiting carriage before following, leaving Kerrick to enter last. When he did, he found himself seated opposite Catherine.

He kept his tone casual as he revealed that the head gardener would lead them through their tour. The look on Catherine’s face—a mix of happiness, excitement, anticipation—more than made up for the extra effort he’d already gone through that morning.

ooOoo

Catherine could barely contain her excitement at the prospect of seeing in person many of the plants she’d only seen pictures of in books. She’d found it tedious when, shortly after arriving in London for the start of the season, she’d discovered that every member of the
ton
seemed content to limit their enjoyment of nature to afternoon rides in Hyde Park during the fashionable hour, or to visiting the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens for its famed evening entertainments. Much to her disappointment, she’d learned that when it came to plant life, there was nothing truly of note in either place.

She only half listened as Clarington informed Kerrick of what he’d missed during his absence from town. She wasn’t surprised to discover that men were only too happy to take part in gossiping, though she suspected they would take umbrage at her using that term. They probably considered it
keeping abreast of current events
.

She tried not to stare, but Kerrick was seated directly opposite her and it was only natural for her to look at him. If it were possible, he was even more handsome than when she’d last seen him the previous fall. His dark hair was shorter than she remembered, but she liked the stark haircut on him. The sharp planes of his face were more noticeable now. And how had she forgotten the way his deep blue eyes crinkled when he smiled? Her eyes were drawn again and again to his mouth, and she found herself wondering just what it would feel like to kiss him.

She remembered, again, how he had held her in his strong arms as he’d waltzed with her the night before, and indulged in a daydream wherein he’d stopped and, his eyes never leaving hers, pulled her to his chest and kissed her. She couldn’t hold back her sigh at the fantasy. Kerrick’s gaze swung to her face, and for a moment she had the mortifying notion that he knew what she’d been thinking.

Their eyes met and held. There was something in his she didn’t recognize, but it had every nerve in her body tingling with anticipation. Her breath hitched and she found she had to remind herself to continue to breathe. She noticed the way his jaw tightened just before he tore his gaze from hers and turned to face Clarington. The air between them seemed to crackle with a new sense of awareness. At first she thought that increased awareness was only on her part, but the way he seemed to hesitate slightly before turning to look at her whenever she spoke told her that he, too, felt it.

That knowledge was almost enough to make her forget the reason for their trip, but all too soon they arrived at Kew. Kerrick almost leapt from the carriage when it came to a stop outside the main gates. She wasn’t sure if she should be insulted by his seeming haste to be out of her presence, but she felt marginally better when he handed her out of the carriage, holding on to her hand a beat too long as he looked down at her. When the duchess gave a delicate little cough, he re-collected himself and released her to assist the other woman.

Clarington appeared to be amused when he stepped down, but Catherine couldn’t say why. She didn’t miss the frown Kerrick aimed at his friend, though.

“Where should we go first?” the duchess asked.

Kerrick pointed south. “Clifton said we’d find him near the temple of Bellona.”

“The Roman goddess of war,” Catherine said.

Kerrick didn’t hide his surprise. “You know your mythology.”

“It probably comes as a great shock to you, but I do know a few things aside from the names of plants.”

In response to the mock censure in her voice, Kerrick sketched a formal bow. “I’ll have to remember not to underestimate you in future.”

The duchess moved to stand next to Catherine and looked at the two men. “It doesn’t appear that Mr. Clifton heard our carriage arrive. Why don’t the two of you check to see if he’s at the temple while Catherine and I wait here to make sure we don’t miss him?”

Clarington gave his wife a little salute, which earned him a light slap on the arm, before the two men headed toward the small building.

Catherine turned to the duchess, who was only a few years older than herself. “I wanted to thank you again, Your Grace, for agreeing to come today. I know most people would find such an outing very dull.”

The duchess waved a hand in dismissal. “I’m very glad for the opportunity to get to know you better. Speaking of which, I think we can drop the formalities here. I insist you call me Charlotte when we are away from the inflexibility of society.”

“I would like that very much,” Catherine said.

“Good. Now that we’ve settled that matter, tell me about Kerrick and yourself. I can see that you like him.”

Catherine wondered if the entire world could tell how much she cared for Kerrick. Nevertheless, she tried to act nonchalant. “He’s a friend of Nicholas’s and spent some time with us last fall. We became friendly during that time.”

Charlotte made a soft tsking sound. “Don’t be coy. You know that’s not what I meant.”

Catherine sighed. “You are correct. However, I don’t think he feels the same way about me.” She hesitated before sharing a further confidence. “He seemed quite close to Louisa when he visited. I thought he might have feelings for her.”

“I’m not sure I believe that,” Charlotte said after giving her statement consideration. “From what I’ve seen, his behavior with her is every bit as friendly but circumspect as his behavior toward me. He’s different when he looks at you, though.”

Her pulse leaped. “Do you think so? I find it impossible to tell sometimes if a gentleman is just being kind or if there’s something more behind that kindness.”

“I was in the same predicament just last year.”

“You and His Grace?”

Charlotte nodded. “I’ve known him for years, but I feared he always considered me his sister’s annoying friend.”

“Surely not.” Seeing the way the duke doted on his wife, it was hard to believe he’d ever considered her annoying.

Charlotte nodded with gravity. “I’m afraid so. I made quite a nuisance of myself when I was younger.”

“What changed?” Catherine asked, eager to learn how the other woman had finally managed to capture the interest of the man she loved.

“Well, first there were a few years when we didn’t see one another, and during that time I grew up. Both in maturity and in physical appearance. You, however,” she said, turning a critical eye to Catherine, “are already very beautiful.”

“Was that all?” If that was the duchess’s secret, her case was truly hopeless. Kerrick was hardly falling all over himself nor writing sonnets composed to her beauty.

Charlotte shook her head. “I followed the conventional wisdom that says men want most that which they cannot have.”

At Catherine’s obvious confusion, Charlotte smiled. “I made him believe that I was not the least bit interested in him, and then I proceeded to flirt with any man who would give me more than a few moments’ notice.”

Catherine mulled that advice over in her head. Did she have it in her to fake an attraction where none existed? Her thoughts went to Rose Hardwick. Was that what the other woman was doing? Pretending to be aloof to Kerrick? Rose did surround herself with other admirers. Was she attempting to draw Kerrick’s interest by pretending indifference? The thought made her feel slightly ill, because that would mean that Catherine had a direct rival for Kerrick’s attention. One who already seemed to hold the advantage if her parents’ expectations were any indication.

“I’m not sure I can do that.”

“You might not have to,” Charlotte said. She must have seen Catherine’s confusion, for she added, “Kerrick already likes you very much.”

Catherine hesitated a moment before saying, “I’ve heard there are expectations about his future.”

Charlotte looked at her levelly. “Clarington tells me that there is no formal betrothal, and I suppose he would know. I might only be three and twenty, but over the years I’ve seen that expectations do not always turn into reality. Until Kerrick declares himself and is accepted, he is free to pursue others. Or to be pursued.”

The duchess was correct, of course. If there was no formal understanding between the two, and since neither of the parties involved showed any sign of having a romantic attachment for the other, what would it hurt to follow where her heart led? She would never forgive herself if she didn’t at least try to capture Kerrick’s interest.

“What do I do? I cannot be coy with other men. Not when…” She was unsure of how to continue, but Charlotte knew what she was going to say.

“Not when the rival for his affections is using the same tactic? And doing so splendidly, I might add.”

The note of admiration in Charlotte’s voice was enough to make Catherine despair.

“You’ll have to use the opposite strategy. Since Rose Hardwick is putting a lot of effort into pushing Kerrick away, we’ll have to make sure he’s pushed in your direction.”

Catherine liked the sound of that. “How?”

Charlotte considered that for several moments. “To begin,” she said, “I’ll do what I can to keep my husband occupied over the next few weeks. If Kerrick wishes to spend some quality time bonding with a male friend, he’ll be forced to do so with Overlea. That should put him into your path more often.”

Catherine was so caught up in their conversation that she hadn’t noticed that Kerrick and the duke were already returning until the duchess silenced what she was about to say by reaching out to tap her arm and inclining her head to the right. Catherine turned to find them with a middle-aged man of average height whose skin bore witness to the fact that he spent a great deal of time outdoors.

After Kerrick made the introductions, Mr. Clifton smiled at her and said, “I hear you are very fond of plants. What would you like me to show you first?”

“I want to see everything,” Catherine said with a self-deprecating laugh. “But I fear my companions wouldn’t be too happy to spend the next several hours wandering over every acre of land.”

Mr. Clifton’s eyes warmed at her obvious enthusiasm. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t be possible, even if they were willing, but I can show you an assortment of what we’ve collected here.”

“Can we start with the plants that have been collected from voyages abroad?”

“You are a woman after my own heart,” he said, holding out his arm for her to take.

Over the next three hours, Catherine saw many plants that she’d only seen in black-and-white sketches, and some that she’d never even heard of. Her favorites were the tropical flowers. It was still early spring and many of them weren’t yet in bloom, but the assortment of vibrant colors and shapes was enough to make her mind whirl.

More than once she’d exclaimed over something and turned to find Kerrick watching her. At first it was with patient amusement, but then something changed. She couldn’t tell what, exactly, and she didn’t want to make too much of it lest she build up her hopes only to have them dashed, but there was definitely a new connection between them.

The duchess seemed to be taking her promise to help bring her and Kerrick together seriously and went out of her way to drag her husband off to secluded corners of the various gardens they saw. She didn’t think Kerrick or Clarington knew what she was doing, the latter probably thought that the romantic atmosphere of the gardens was behind his wife’s desire to spend time with him separate from the rest of the group, but Catherine knew exactly what was afoot and appreciated the duchess’s effort.

When they reached the orangery, the last stop on their impromptu tour, even she was starting to flag.

“I would love to return later in the year and see the trees with their oranges,” Catherine said with a wistful sigh.

“Unfortunately, the site won’t be as impressive as we’d hoped for,” Mr. Clifton said. “The trees are starting to show signs of stress because they are not receiving enough light in here. We’re going to have to move them somewhere that has more windows. Perhaps even a glass roof. Hopefully they won’t decline too much before that can happen.”