Beguiling the Earl (9 page)

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Authors: Suzanna Medeiros

Tags: #romance, historical romance, regency romance

BOOK: Beguiling the Earl
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It took her a few seconds to realize what had happened. He’d pulled out to prevent her from conceiving a child. Her mind knew it was the right thing to do—the only way he could protect her. Her emotions, however, could latch on to only one thought.

No promises, he’d said. She and Kerrick might never marry, never have a life together. Never have children.

A wave of sadness passed over her, and not wanting him to see it, she turned her head when he lifted himself from her and drew her back into his arms. They lay like that for several minutes, her head pillowed on his chest, his arms wrapped around her as their breathing slowed and the sweat from their bodies cooled. Her head rested over his heart, her hand at his waist. Neither spoke, knowing that to do so would put an end to their brief interlude together.

Despair threatened to consume her when she realized she’d made a terrible mistake. Not in coming there—she could never regret what they had shared. She’d expected that this one night of stolen passion would bring only happiness. A memory for her to hoard away and look back upon with something akin to fondness. At the very least, she’d thought it would give her joy to know she’d reached out and grasped a chance to share the ultimate intimacy with the man she loved.

She’d been very naive in her certainty of how she’d feel afterward. She realized that it would now be so much worse, knowing what she and Kerrick might have had together.

She was certain that if he was free to do so, he’d choose her over Rose Hardwick. But there was something linking him to that family, and she had no way of knowing if he would ever be free.

In the silence that surrounded them, she became aware that his heartbeat had begun to speed up again. She lifted her head to look at him, expecting to see desire in his eyes. What she saw, instead, drove away the saucy comment she’d been about to make.

“Kerrick?”

“You were correct to suspect I was hiding something from you.”

 

Chapter Seven

His decision made, Kerrick didn’t want to waste any more time pushing Catherine away. Brantford would have his hide if he even suspected he was about to confide in her, but Kerrick knew that the woman in his arms could be trusted to keep his secrets. He wouldn’t make the same mistake Nicholas had made with Louisa the previous fall when he’d done everything in his power to push her away. It meant he was a selfish bastard, but Kerrick wanted to give her a reason to wait for him. The question, though, was whether she would be able to stand back and watch him continue to pay court to another woman.

She sat up and his eyes moved straight to her breasts. Desire began to stir again, and he cursed softly. He stood and retrieved his dressing gown.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my thoughts on the subject at hand with you sitting there looking ripe for the plucking.”

The corners of her mouth lifted in that special smile she used when she thought he was being amusing and a little ridiculous, but she did take the dressing gown and rose to stand. He watched while she swung the garment around her shoulders, his hands itching to reach out for her again. Only when she was covered did he tear his eyes away and reach for his trousers.

When he looked at her again, she was sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, her fair hair tumbling down her back. She looked at once very young and very desirable. He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed beside her and ran a hand over his face.

He glanced up when she shifted closer and placed a hand on his knee.

“I know about your work.”

He’d been wrestling with just how much to confide in her, and her statement caught him off guard. He kept his voice neutral when he asked, “My work?”

She nodded. “Yes. I know you’re a spy.”

He gaped at her for a moment before collecting himself. “Why would you say that?”

“Louisa told me.”

He winced. “Your sister told you I was a spy? Why would she think that?”

She waved her hand in dismissal, as if she were stating something as obvious as the color of the sun. “Overlea suspects you have dealings with the Home Office, and you’re always disappearing. And tonight at the Worthingtons’ musicale you disappeared for some time and didn’t want anyone to know.”

He’d been so certain no one had seen him slip out of the room that her revelation shook him. He gripped her hand. “Did anyone else see me?”

She shook her head and he released his breath, relief flooding through him.

“I wanted you to think I was enjoying the music, but in truth I was too busy watching you.”

Light color stained her cheeks at the admission. He followed the blush down her throat and was distracted, wondering just how far down her skin the color traveled. It was with great difficulty that he brought himself back to the subject at hand.

“I’m not a spy.” At her expression of disbelief, he continued, “I’ve helped out here and there gathering information, but that is all.”

She tilted her head to the side, a slight crease marking her forehead. “Is that not what a spy does?”

Perhaps she did have a point. “I suppose you’re right. I’ve been comparing my actions to some of the more dangerous endeavors of others in the government’s employ…” He covered her mouth with his fingers, his tone one of exaggerated patience when he said, “And no, I will not tell you about whom I speak.”

She drew his hand away and crossed her arms. “I could guess—in fact I think I already know who else is involved—but I’ll leave that for another time.”

He’d have to worry about that later. “At any rate, I can’t reveal the nature of my mission, but I want you to know that I am doing all within my power to find the answers to the matter I’ve been asked to look into. Once that is done, my spying, as you call it, will be over.”

She was quiet for several long moments. “I can help you,” she said when she finally spoke again.

Dread curled in his belly at the innocent excitement in her voice. “No, Catherine. This isn’t a game.”

“It’s Lord Worthington, is it not? You’re trying to gather information about him. Is that why you’re courting Rose?”

He shook his head, but she pressed on.

“I can befriend Rose. We’re of an age and I know she doesn’t dislike me.”

“Absolutely not—” He came to an abrupt halt when he realized his vehement response had just confirmed her guess.

“Of course I can,” she said, her smile one he would expect to see an adult use with a small child. “I’m not foolish enough to come right out and ask her about whether her father is engaged in any suspicious activity. What could be more normal than one young woman calling on another and forming a friendship? No one would think anything of it, and it will allow me, from time to time, to call upon her. I might even see if Lord Worthington is receiving any suspicious guests.”

His frustration—and fear—mounted in the face of her insistence on injecting herself into his investigation. He closed his eyes and counted to ten before opening them again and replying. “It is highly unlikely that anyone engaged in any type of illegal activity would receive calls from their accomplices during official calling hours. And no, this is not an admission that I am investigating Worthington.”

“In that case, you have no cause at all to worry if I call on Rose tomorrow afternoon.”

He wanted to say something more, but Catherine, clever girl that she was proving herself to be, distracted him by undoing the belt of the dressing gown and shrugging out of the garment. He conceded defeat for the moment and pushed her onto her back. He would argue with her later, when he could think again.

ooOoo

Catherine arrived home shortly before dawn and was able to sneak up to her room without being seen. She’d gotten very little sleep while with Kerrick and, not wanting to arouse her family’s suspicions, didn’t sleep past her usual time that morning. But her lack of sleep didn’t affect her mood. Energy seemed to surge within her, and she was finding it difficult to keep a perpetual smile from her face. She didn’t even bother when she was alone, but she made the effort to school her expression when others were present.

Now, standing before the Worthingtons’ town house that afternoon, her maid Lily by her side, she lifted the heavy knocker and let it fall with a determined thump. The door was opened moments later by a stately butler who accepted her card and showed her into the drawing room. There she found Rose Hardwick seated on a low chaise longue. She wasn’t surprised to find her surrounded by her usual court of admirers.

Her dark hair styled no less elaborately than she normally wore it for evening entertainments, the voluptuous brunette looked radiant in a demure dress of white with pale blue ribbons that accented the neckline and hem. Catherine was glad she’d made sure to look her best. She still felt like a pale shadow beside the more vivacious beauty of the other woman, but the night she’d spent with Kerrick had gone a long way toward making her realize that he felt no real animosity for the woman before her now.

If Rose was surprised to see her, she didn’t to show it when she looked away from a young man who was in the process of trying to cajole her to go for a drive in the park. In fact, she was the one surprised when Rose stood and crossed the room to clasp Catherine’s hands between her own.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here,” she said.

Catherine was confused by the enthusiastic greeting, but that confusion cleared when Rose turned back to face the six men who’d all risen when she stood.

“I’m afraid I’ve made other plans with Miss Evans for the rest of the afternoon,” she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as her gaze met Catherine’s. “I’ll have to say my good-byes now, but I’m sure to see some of you later this evening.”

Catherine almost laughed aloud at the identical expressions of disappointment on the men’s faces.

“Where will you be?” one of them called out after them, but Rose had already linked her arm through Catherine’s and turned her around.

“Don’t slow down or look back,” Rose murmured under her breath as she led them toward the back of the house. She didn’t stop until they’d escaped into the back garden. After closing the door behind them, she dropped Catherine’s arm and sank into one of several chairs that had been set out on the small terrace. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”

Catherine took a seat next to her. She considered the best approach to take and settled finally on honesty. “I’ll admit I’m surprised you felt the need to escape.”

Rose aimed a direct look at her. “You think I’m frivolous and that I like being surrounded by those prancing fools.”

It wasn’t a question, and Catherine found herself apologizing. “Yes, I’m afraid so. You do present that appearance.”

Rose sighed. “I know, and I don’t blame you for believing that. It is, after all, what I want others to see.”

Since they were being honest, Catherine didn’t demur. “I do find it difficult to believe you don’t enjoy the attention.”

Rose smiled. “I admit it’s not all an act. I do enjoy seeing just how far some of them will go to capture my interest. You would not credit some of the gifts I’ve received.”

“But your interest lies elsewhere.”

“Yes,” Rose said, looking away.

Catherine didn’t want to ask the next question, especially not after what had happened the night before, but she had to know.

“Lord Kerrick?”

Rose didn’t reply right away, and Catherine felt her spirits sink. It was true then. Rose really had missed Kerrick when he’d been away from town, and she really did want to marry him. It must be killing her that he spent so much time with Catherine’s family. She wondered if the other woman suspected Kerrick’s interest lay not only in interacting with his friend of many years, but with that friend’s new sister-in-law. With her.

Rose’s reply was so low Catherine almost didn’t hear it. “No.”

“No?” Her mind reeled and she almost cried out with relief. Instead, she took a few moments to compose herself before asking, “But your parents expect there to be a match between you. And you’ve just admitted you don’t care for the young men who were here today.”

“Oh, the man in question has no clue I’m even alive.”

The laugh she gave was a bitter one, and Catherine realized then why Rose acted the way she did.

“You’re trying to capture his attention, this man who doesn’t seem to see you.”

Rose’s mouth turned up at the corners in a ghost of a smile. “I’m so very glad you came here today. I suspected I’d like you but didn’t know if you’d welcome my overtures of friendship.” She hesitated a moment before adding, “Especially not since you’re in love with Lord Kerrick and all of society has the two of us practically married.”

Catherine was alarmed at the other woman’s insight. “Good lord, am I that obvious?” She closed her eyes as horror swept through her. She wondered how she could possibly face Rose’s parents if they were home.

Rose reached forward and laid a hand over hers, squeezing it lightly before letting go. “Not to everyone. I daresay my parents and others think it’s just a casual acquaintance. It’s well known that Kerrick is good friends with Lord Overlea, and you are his wife’s sister.”

“But you saw right through that.”

Rose shrugged. “I am going through the same thing myself. It wasn’t difficult to see that same emotion reflected in you. I’ve seen the way you look at him, especially when he dances with me. It wasn’t difficult to figure out why that would be.”

Catherine licked her lips, hesitating briefly before asking the question that lay unspoken between them. “I’m afraid I haven’t been as astute as you. Who is it you care for?”

Rose leaned back in her chair, making no attempt to hide her pain. “That’s because he doesn’t attend the usual evening entertainments, and when he does, he doesn’t dance. Not with me and rarely with anyone else.” She laughed, clearly seeing that Catherine was trying to sift through all the men she’d met during her time in London.

“I’m sorry for prying,” Catherine said.

Rose considered her closely. “We don’t know one another, but I have a very good feeling about you. If there were even the slightest chance… Well, there’s no point in discussing something that will never happen.”

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