His Perfect Lady (12 page)

When he opened his eyes, the tight rein on his control nearly snapped. Catherine had bent over, her face only inches from his member. The images flooding his mind forced him into action. Before she could issue further protests, he grasped her chemise and tore it from her body, forcing her to right herself.

“Wait a—”

He cut off her words with his mouth. Clutching her tight to him, pleasure flooded from the wondrous feeling of her smooth flesh against his. Her fingernails dug in his shoulders as if to secure him to her. Desire swam through his head and echoed in his ears.

Overcome with the need to take his time and make the night last forever, Jonathan dragged his mouth away from her swollen lips to trail kisses along her jaw line. Drawing her back at arm’s length, he surveyed her.

“Stunning,” he murmured, taken aback by her magnificence.

He removed the few pins from her hair, allowing the blond waves to cascade down her back. Although her tresses covered her breasts, he found the hint of nipples peeking out incredibly erotic. Never in his life had the mere sight of a woman brought him to completion, but he feared the occurrence right now.

Unable to wait any longer, he laid her down on the sofa, cursing the lack of a proper bed. She deserved more than this. Lowering himself onto her, he closed his mouth over one pert nipple. He suckled and caressed her breast until her cries became more desperate.

When he climbed off her, he would have found her outrage at his departure amusing had he not been under such strain. His body burned, but he forced himself to hold back. He intended to give her everything she deserved.

As he knelt beside her, he ran his tongue down her body until he reached her center. When he hovered over her most sensitive place, she raised her head and looked at him with concern in her eyes.

“Trust, remember.”

She moaned as his words washed over her. Dipping his head, he tasted her honeyed center. He took his time until she thrashed and tugged at his hair. As he lavished attention upon her, his body hardened to the point of pain. When he felt her spasm, he replaced his mouth with his hand so he could watch her face. The enjoyment and awe he saw made his masculine pride increase.

“That was . . . nice.” Hearing her breathless voice and gazing into her heavy lidded eyes, his heart swelled.

“Not exactly what I hoped for.”

Laughing, she reached out and drew him back to her. As he ravished her mouth, his raging hunger for her mounted. Unable to deny himself any longer, he filled her completely. Keeping still for a few moments, he basked in the heat of her. Slowly he moved within her, building her need to match his own.

When she crested the precipice and fell off the edge of bliss, he joined her. Together, they soared through the fiery chasm of pleasure. So adrift in the burning glory running through his veins, he lost awareness of his surroundings. His descent back to Earth was met with reluctance. He imagined he’d never get enough of this. Of Catherine.

Raising himself onto his elbows, he looked into her eyes, wet with trails of moisture running down her cheeks. He cursed under his breath, feeling like a cad. He’d been so absorbed is in his own pleasure, he hadn’t noticed her crying.

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” He tried to move off her, but her arms secured behind his back, holding him in place.

“No. I’m all right. I just . . . It’s time for me to leave.”

She released him and pushed at his chest. Although loath to withdraw, he didn’t want to upset her further, so he complied. As he sat on the end of the sofa, she stood and began collecting her clothes.

“I have never met a woman so anxious to leave this quickly. Perhaps I have lost my touch.”

Her searching stopped as she gazed upon him, amusement in her eyes. “You don’t need me to tell you how skilled a lover you are. There are scores of women around London who can testify on that account.”

“Would it surprise you to learn I won’t even spare a thought for them when compared to you? Your opinion is what matters to me.”

“I’m sure those women would be devastated to learn that.” Her voice sounded muffled as she slid her chemise and dress over her head.

Realizing she wouldn’t change her mind and decide to rejoin him on the sofa, Jonathan re-dressed in his trousers and shirt. He enjoyed seeing the glimpse of disappointment on her face after he covered his body. When she finished dressing and faced him, he read goodbye in her eyes.

“Before you rush off, would you care to indulge in a drink with me? I can’t offer tea, but you’ll find no better brandy.” He crossed the room to remove a bottle and two glasses from the desk.

“Thank you, but I must decline. I should be on my way.”

Slamming the glass back down, Jonathan closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. “So after spending one last night with your lover, you must rush back home to marry someone else?”

Jonathan poured himself a brandy, finished it in one gulp, then poured another. He hated the bitterness in his voice, but even more so, he hated the fury curling inside the pit of his stomach. Women used him all the time, just as he used them, so why did he care now?

Not hearing a response, he spun around to face her. She stood regarding him with a blank look on her face. Her lack of feeling only fed his anger. After the experience they’d shared, she owed him some bloody emotion.

“What do you want from me?” Her voice came out even, not hinting at her thoughts. “I can’t throw my life away to become your mistress.”

“I would never ask that of you. Damn it, I . . .”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, for he didn’t even know what he wanted from her. The only thing on his mind was ensuring she not marry Dudgery and leave him forever.

Thrusting a hand through his hair, he tried to hide how much he was breaking inside. “How are you getting home?”

“It’s too late to procure a hackney, so I will walk.”

“Nonsense. I’ll take you.”

They didn’t speak on the carriage ride to Berwick’s townhouse, nor did Jonathan look at her. Memories of their stolen moments clung to the surface of his thoughts, and he couldn’t bear the thought of her marrying another man. To make matters worse, it wasn’t just any man. It was Dudgery.

When they arrived, she whispered a goodbye before exiting the carriage and disappearing in the direction of the servant’s entrance. He couldn’t force himself to say a word, as simply looking at her hurt too much. Why did fate have to put her back in his life only to take her away again? The question ripped at his heart and followed him all the way to bed.

Morning brought its mocking brightness much too early. He hadn’t been able to sleep at all. His intention hadn’t been to remain at Ravenhurst all night, but after dropping Catherine off, he didn’t feel up to returning home and running into Stanwick.

Hearing movement beyond the door, Jonathan stood and rubbed his itchy eyes. He knew his unshaven face and rumpled clothing was not appropriate attire for a meeting, but he had no choice. Not to mention the fact he no longer cared.

Jonathan emerged from the office to face an open—mouthed Nathaniel. “Good God, Linwood, what happened to you?”

“I mistakenly thought spending my last night here would be a good idea,” Jonathan answered, attempting to put his usual amount of enthusiasm in his voice.

Nathaniel shook his head as they sat down at a table. “I told my wife about you giving me the club. She told me to thank you. Actually, she told me to kiss you for her, but I must respectfully decline.”

Jonathan laughed. He could just see Lottie making the request of her husband. Thinking of Nathaniel’s family made him happy to be able to provide for them. And also jealous. Nathaniel had Lottie waiting at home for him to share the good news with. Jonathan had no one.

He could imagine Catherine there, anxious for him to return from the club. Would she be proud of his decision to give Ravenhurst to Nathaniel? He hoped so. Somewhere during the past couple of weeks, he had come to value her opinion much more than he should.

“Is it difficult to have a wife?” Jonathan blurted out before he could stop himself. “I mean, she’s always there, day in and day out. Making demands and expecting so much. I always imagined marriage being distasteful, but so many men willingly enter the state.”

Now it was Nathaniel’s turn to laugh. “That is the most unusual question you’ve ever asked, and that’s saying a lot. In response, I must admit having a wife can be difficult at times, but the benefits far outweigh the hardships.”

Jonathan thought of those words while he signed Ravenhurst away to his friend. He expected to feel sad upon ending his connection to the club, but his mind filled with Catherine.

When the last paper had been signed and their dealings completed, Jonathan excused himself and climbed into his carriage. Terror and excitement warred within him, for he was on his way to do something he swore he’d never do. He was going to propose to Catherine. Again.

Chapter 10

Catherine sat staring out the dressing room window. The end of her time in London quickly approached and she couldn’t decide if the idea pleased her or not. The sinful town, as her mother described it, provided her with many memories to cherish and draw upon when she felt particularly lonely. Those reminiscences would be all she’d have left, as she didn’t expect to return.

Seeing Jonathan with other women while she attended parties with her husband would be too difficult to bear. The countryside remained the better choice for her. Recollections of Jonathan there had faded and wouldn’t assault her at the oddest times as they once had.

Thinking of him made her remember his anger the previous night. In all her life, she’d never seen his charming façade drop so swiftly. One moment he brought her to the heights of pleasure, then the next, he almost smashed a glass with his bare hand. She didn’t understand him at all.

“Catherine, can I talk to you?” Kenneth asked, entering the room and breaking into her confusing thoughts.

“Please. Come in and have a seat.”

It wasn’t often her cousin sought her out, so she’d give him her full attention. He appeared nervous. After he sat, he tugged at his shirt as if unsatisfied with the way it gathered at his arm. The usual confidence he wore had disappeared.

“You know Jonathan Alastair, Viscount Linwood, better than I, and I wanted to have your opinion of him.”

Her mouth dropped open. Considering how much her family hated Linwood, she couldn’t have been more surprised by his interest. Did he hope to obtain information from her in order to cause problems for Jonathan? If so, she refused to aid him.

“In regard to what exactly?”

“What type of man is he? Can he be trusted?”

“He’s one of the best men I’ve ever met, and I would trust him with my life,” she answered without hesitation.

“That’s good to hear.” Kenneth relaxed his shoulders. “Father doesn’t much care for him.”

“I know. This foolish feud created enemies where there didn’t need to be.”

“That isn’t the reason.” Her cousin stared at her in shock. “Growing up, I noticed he never paid much attention to Linwood or the feud. I remember him complaining about his brother’s imprudent decisions based solely on unfounded problems our ancestors experienced.”

Catherine couldn’t believe what she heard. Uncle Toban had made his feelings for Jonathan very clear. If not the feud, what could Jonathan have done to obtain that response? He’d resided in London most of his adult life. As far as she knew, his longest visit to the country had been those two years with her.

“Perhaps my relationship with Lord Linwood years ago brought this response. My father had strong feelings against an alliance between our families. Uncle Toban had treated me with such kindness, but he never offered his opinions on the matter.”

“I’ve never heard my father speak an ill word about Linwood until this visit to London. Whatever Linwood did, it was recent.”

“Do you—?” She broke off at Chavin’s entrance.

Before the butler could announce his purpose, Jonathan appeared behind him. As his wild eyes settled on her, her heart seized. He looked terrible. With hair askew, face unshaven, and rumpled clothing, she wondered if he’d gone home last night. Considering he wore the same evening attire from yesterday, she imagined not.

“Mrs. Gates,” Jonathan began, his eyes not straying from her face. “May I speak with you?”

Her gaze drifted to Kenneth before returning to Jonathan’s anxious face. Something had happened to him since she left.

Kenneth got to his feet. “Go out to the garden. Not only will the location award you with privacy, but Father will never think to look for you in that tangled mass of weeds. And I’m not inclined to inform him of anything.”

Jonathan’s eyes snapped to her cousin. “Not that I’m ungrateful, but what prompts you to be so accommodating?”

“Sometimes you need help from a friend.” Kenneth shrugged. “I’m beginning to realize that now, as well as how few people I know that have earned the designation.”

With a nod, Kenneth exited the drawing room. Catherine watched him, dumbfounded. Was this his way of saying he approved of her pursuing a relationship with Jonathan? Although the knowledge didn’t change anything, it made her feel good to know it.

“Shall we?” Jonathan offered his arm.

Thrilled with the opportunity to share a few stolen moments, she took his arm and led him to the aptly described tangled mass of weeds. When Uncle Toban had purchased the property, had he been aware of the current state of disrepair? Considering how proud he’d been by the purchase, she imagined he hadn’t cared.

Crossing over the threshold into the garden, Jonathan released her arm and cut through the brush, making way for them.

“A charming place you have here,” he observed, turning to face her.

“Yes, I do believe the garden is one of the better aspects of the house.”

“Then I’m honored to enjoy this with you,” he said, his voice thick.

Feeling uncomfortable with the intensity in his gaze, she cleared her throat and looked away. “So what was it you wanted to speak to me about?”

She felt his warm hands on her shoulders as he took a deep breath. “My Cat, I came today because you can’t marry Dudgery.”

Furious, she shrugged off his hands and whipped around to face him. “Then what will you have me do? Become a burden to my uncle until he turns me out?”

Apparently unmoved by her anger, Jonathan’s eyes softened, and he took her face between his hands. She slapped him away, not understanding him at all. He grabbed her hand and knelt down before her.

Her heart jumped into her throat as she stared into his face.

“No. You can marry me. I love you, Catherine. I always have and always will.” Jonathan’s smile took her breath away. “You are the most important thing in my life, and I promise I will dedicate what is left of it to making you happy.”

Warmth spread through her body upon hearing he still loved her. She never imagined he could ever love her again after she’d rejected him. Her body melted, and she wanted nothing more than to accept him and fall into his embrace, but she couldn’t. Too much remained at stake.

“I will give you everything you could ever hope for,” he continued. “Please just say yes. We can leave for Gretna Green immediately.”

“Stand up,” she said, pulling at his arm. She hated that she had to do this to him. Again.

“I can’t. Not until you put me out of my misery.”

His hope-filled eyes burned into her, leaving an imprint she’d remember forever. Her chest ached as her throat clogged. One way or another, she had to find the words to save him. Slipping her hands free of his grasp, she wrapped her arms around herself. After turning her back, she stumbled a few steps away from him. It took several attempts before words were able to come from her mouth.

“No. I’ve told you once before, I will never marry you.”

“Tell me why, and don’t say you don’t love me. I know you do.”

She felt him standing close behind her, but he didn’t touch her, nor did he make any move to put himself in her vision. Recalling her father, the curse, and how much she did indeed love Jonathan, she found the strength she needed. Twisting around, she faced him while attempting to portray amusement on her face.

“Love? Is that what you think this has been about?” She motioned her hand between the two of them. “I believe the proper term is
lust
. You gave me a taste of something I’ve been wanting and nothing more.”

“You can’t fool me with that. I know you too well.”

“As a child, yes, you knew me well. But you don’t know me any longer. I have changed.”

Although his eyes were skeptical, she saw a glimpse of pain touching his face. It hurt her more than she thought possible, but she knew the necessity of making him believe she no longer loved him.

The curse was real and until she had proof she’d broken it by making love to Jonathan, she wouldn’t risk his life. She knew if she told him her real reason for rejecting him, he’d laugh and claim he’d not be affected, but she’d seen it happen. Twice.

Jonathan closed his eyes. “Please just tell me the truth. Tell me why, and I’ll leave you alone forever if that’s your wish.”

She scoffed, although it broke her heart to do so. “Women don’t marry men like you. After a good tumble or two between the sheets, they move on to a better-suited man.”

When he opened his eyes, the pain she saw couldn’t be mistaken. Her heart broke and a tear escaped before she could stop it. “Jonathan, I—”

“No. You’re right.” He offered her a strained smile. “You deserve better than me, and I support you in your decision. But I implore you, don’t marry Dudgery. He’s not—”

“Catherine,” Uncle Toban’s voice called out. “Are you out here?”

“I’ll leave you now, but please reconsider about Dudgery.”

She wanted to reach out and stop Jonathan. To grab him to her. To tell him she would marry him. Instead, she remained immobile and watched him walk away. When he came upon Uncle Toban, Jonathan nodded but didn’t alter his stride. Then he was gone.

“What is the trouble, my dear?”

Swallowing down her sorrow, she met her uncle’s eyes. “No trouble.”

His smile stabbed at her, making her feel worse for what she’d done to Jonathan, who deserved better than her.

“I want you to know I’m proud of you. Without a doubt, you did the right—”

She couldn’t stand here and listen to Uncle Toban. “I’m sorry, but I must excuse myself.”

Stepping around her uncle, she made her way to her bedchamber. At her desk, she withdrew a piece of parchment. The time had arrived to give Lord Dudgery his answer.

“Another brandy,” Jonathan called out to Nathaniel.

“I’m not sure that is a wise idea, my lord.” Concern lit his friend’s face, but Jonathan didn’t care.

“It isn’t your place to question the patron’s decisions,” Stanwick scolded. “Lord Linwood requested another brandy. Go get him one.”

Nathaniel’s lips pinched tight, but he didn’t correct Stanwick. As the owner of Ravenhurst, Nathaniel held every right to deny service or bar whomever he wished from the club, but for some reason he didn’t exert his power over them. After giving Jonathan a loaded glance, he left them.

“Some people just don’t know their place,” Stanwick complained, shaking his head.

“On the contrary. I believe he’s right. Stopping now would be the wisest choice. I, however, am running low on wisdom as of late.”

To be more specific, he’d completely lost his good sense over a week ago when he’d proposed to Catherine. He still could not believe the sheer stupidity that encouraged him to once again put himself through her rejection. Now there was no denying the fact Catherine didn’t love him. She probably never had.

“Then let’s get out of here. I know a few ladies who would be more than happy to join us,” Stanwick suggested.

Jonathan sat back and studied his brother. Ever since he’d been in London, Stanwick had been attempting to warm the bed of every woman in town. Although the difference in his brother’s personality had plagued him all this time, he found Stanwick’s determination to see him do the same even more confusing.

“You know a lot of women,” Jonathan observed.

“Can you blame me? Besides, I don’t know nearly as many as you.”

“I understand your compulsion to know a varied number of ladies, but why drag me into it?”

His brother leaned back in his chair and gazed across the room. His lips tight as he crossed his arms. Apparently Stanwick had no desire to answer.

Irritated, Jonathan mirrored his brother’s position. “For quite a while I’ve been distancing myself from that lifestyle, but you would see me back in it. Why?”

After a telling sigh, Stanwick dropped his head. “When you left Linwood for London, both times, all I heard were stories from father about you. About your dissolute life. Although I never understood some of your decisions, I envied you.” Stanwick leaned forward. “You had the freedom to make those choices.”

“If you didn’t agree with my preferences, why are you making similar decisions?”

“It wasn’t the women I questioned.” Stanwick grinned before his face returned serious. “I suppose I expected to arrive here and realize how right Father had been. Then I could feel better than you and hate you as he had. Instead, I found an exemplary member of Society in you.”

“I’d hardly describe myself as such.”

“You are. With the exception of one night with an actress, you’ve done nothing questionable. The talk about you would make an angel jealous.”

“Then I don’t understand why you’d want to see my name sullied.” The brandy swam in his head, twisting his thoughts. Did his brother hate him so much he wished to see him ruined?

“I’m so sorry, Jonathan. I guess I just thought if I knock you down a bit in their opinions, it would raise me a little.”

“Wouldn’t changing yourself be easier?”

“I was enjoying myself too much.” Stanwick’s eyes fell to the table. “I know it was wrong of me.”

Jonathan stood. He needed time to think and get away from his brother. Although he would forgive Stanwick in the end, he wanted a chance to be angry first.

“Don’t go.” Stanwick stood as well. “If anyone should be forced to leave, it’s me. I’ll be in my bedchamber at the townhouse if you need me.”

Before Jonathan could respond, Stanwick hurried away. Left to himself, Jonathan fell back into his seat. All this time, he’d never suspected Stanwick struggled with his opinion of him. Their father’s poison ran deeper than Jonathan realized.