His Perfect Lady (4 page)

“We should return,” he whispered, unable to raise his voice. “The performance will begin soon.”

“Yes.” She made no move to leave, and he didn’t release her hand.

“Go now. I’ll follow in a little while to avoid being seen together.”

She remained still for a minute more before she withdrew her hand and dropped her head. Jonathan cursed the low lighting. Was she regretful? Did she want him to take this further? Although he believed he knew women well, he had little to no experience with women who didn’t want him.

When she left and the door clicked shut, he slumped back against the shelves. Seducing Catherine would be more difficult than anything he’d attempted before. She wrecked him emotionally, and he feared he wouldn’t survive the endeavor.

Chapter 3

Catherine tossed her pillow across the room with as much force as she could muster at such an early hour. Sleep betrayed her. For days now, ever since Jonathan’s almost—kiss, her dreams had brought her nothing but frustration. She didn’t know how much more of this she could handle.

In that dark room, surrounded by desire and raw masculine strength, she’d been scared. As much as she hated to admit it, the fright hadn’t come from the potent man in front of her, but from somewhere deep within her. Her fear wasn’t of him, but for him. Losing herself in him again would be all too easy, and she couldn’t allow that to happen.

Now, in her bedchamber, she could only muster anger toward him. She had been overwhelmed with desire, whereas he intended to tease her. Apparently, he wanted her to suffer when she thought back to that moment. She felt like a fool for allowing him to affect her so thoroughly.

His torment of her didn’t end in the closet, however. After the performance ended, the lead actress had clung to him as if she owned him. The sight infuriated Catherine. How could he whisk her away to a deserted room, then in the next moment offer his attentions to another woman? What could he possibly want with two women?

Casting the troubling thoughts aside, she prepared herself for the day, all the while firming her decision to avoid him for the duration of her stay in London. The memory of his lips hovering over hers invaded her mind. Her heart raced, and her resolve faded. Then her traitorous mind conjured ways to “accidentally” run into him again.

Catherine ignored the thought as she made her way to the drawing room for her At Home. Hearing loud voices, she paused. Immediately, she recognized her uncle’s voice, but the fact she’d never heard him raise it before piqued her interest. Sliding along the wall, she stood not far from the entrance to Uncle Toban’s study.

“How many times must we have this discussion before you stop?” Uncle Toban’s exasperated voice demanded.

“I don’t lose on purpose,” Kenneth said, his voice slurred. “One day I’ll win it all back. Then you’ll come to me for funds.”

“Damn it, Kenneth.” The sound of a fist against a desktop resonated in the hallway. “You can never win enough to pay me back the amounts I’ve settled for you.”

“But—”

“Enough. Who is it to this time? I’ll have to make assurances.”

“Just Dudgery, but I will win the funds back. He’s not very skilled.”

The pleading in her cousin’s voice almost made her feel sorry for him. From Uncle Toban’s reaction, this wasn’t the first time they shared this conversation. Why did her cousin continually put himself in this position? By experience, surely he knew he wouldn’t earn his losses back.

“If he plays poorly, and you lost to him, what does that say about your skills? Don’t answer. There may be hope this time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dudgery has developed an interest in your cousin. With the idea of a possible match with Catherine, he may be willing to forgive your debt.” Uncle Toban sounded pleased with the thought.

Catherine’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t believe her uncle would use her to attempt to forgive Kenneth’s debt. He’d never learn to quit gambling if he suffered no consequences. She closed her mouth and bit down on her lip in an effort to not barge in and make her opinion known.

The conversation continued about how they would approach Lord Dudgery. Her stomach hurt simply hearing the plan. Pushing from the wall, she made her way to the drawing room. Her mother’s cousin, Vanessa, planned to visit today, and Catherine found herself anxious to see her. She had lacked the counsel of a woman for too much of her life.

Sitting and staring out the window, she didn’t know her uncle entered until he cleared his throat. Considering what she overheard, she wasn’t sure she wanted to see him at this moment. But she had no choice. He smiled. She bristled. As if he hadn’t just concocted a scheme to use her.

“Are you excited to host your first At Home? I understand we will have several guests.”

“I understand my cousin, Vanessa, plans to join us, but I’m not aware of any others. May I ask who else you are expecting?”

“We shall see,” he answered cryptically before settling down in the chair across from her. “I don’t think you will be disappointed.”

Her first thought flew to Jonathan, but she immediately dismissed it. Uncle Toban would never agree to host him in their home. Besides, the thought of having Jonathan here making polite conversation with them seemed too farfetched. He was too much man to engage in frivolous behavior. In addition, she could not imagine Linwood being pleasant to Berwick, or the other way around, under any circumstances.

“My lord,” Chavin called from the doorway. “Lady Vanessa Matrick has arrived.”

“Lady Vanessa, it’s so wonderful you could come,” her uncle greeted as her cousin shuffled forward.

“Thank you, Lord Berwick.” Vanessa inclined her head then turned to Catherine. “And Catherine, I have longed to see you again, especially after exchanging all those letters.”

“Me, too.” Catherine lightly squeezed her cousin’s hand as they sat down. “I appreciate you making the visit, considering you just returned to London.”

“Certainly. The trip to Bath allowed my tired soul to rest. I feel young again.”

“Bath, you say?” Uncle Toban chimed in. “I haven’t had the pleasure of visiting. Is it as beautiful as I’ve heard?”

Vanessa shot Catherine an annoyed look before facing Uncle Toban. “Yes. I do recommend making the trip. You’d benefit from Bath.”

From her stiff tone to her tolerant smile, Vanessa clearly didn’t care for Uncle Toban. But why? To date, she’d never met anyone who could resist Uncle Toban’s sweet and charming demeanor.

His answering smile indicated he didn’t notice anything amiss in Vanessa’s behavior.

Chavin’s arrival halted any further conversation. “Lord William Nighale, Earl of Dudgery.”

“Dudgery, please come on in. We’ve been looking forward to your visit.” Uncle Toban’s wide smile indicated he’d been anticipating Lord Dudgery’s arrival.

Although Catherine accepted his greeting and compliments with a smile, she didn’t feel moved by his presence. As her uncle made his endorsement clear, she had little doubt the earl would become her third husband. She’d allow Uncle Toban to handle the matter without any objection from her, for she didn’t care whom she married, as it wouldn’t last long.

After a few minutes of exchanging pleasantries, Uncle Toban invited Lord Dudgery to his study. Catherine couldn’t contain a wince, knowing exactly what they would discuss. Part of her wanted to warn the unsuspecting lord, but she resisted. The outcome of the conversation wouldn’t alter her future.

“Well, I see he doesn’t make a secret of his preference,” Vanessa said, drawing her attention.

“What are you referring to?”

“Your uncle clearly intends to endorse Lord Dudgery’s pursuit of you. Why?, I can’t even fathom. The man is almost twice your age and highly unattractive.”

Catherine shrugged. “He seems nice enough.”

“So you are content to allow your uncle to decide on your future husband?” Vanessa asked, her voice incredulous.

Biting her lip, Catherine debated telling her cousin about the particulars of both her past husband’s’ deaths. Very few people knew, which is how she preferred it. Dropping her gaze, she wondered if she should tell Vanessa.

Thankfully, Chavin’s deep voice from the doorway saved her from making a decision. “Lord Jonathan Alastair, Viscount Linwood.”

Jonathan sat across from Catherine and her cousin, Lady Vanessa, cursing the rash decision to come here today. He’d not seen Catherine since their experience in the closet at the theater, and he’d wondered what she thought of him. Judging by her stunned and uncomfortable glances, it wasn’t much.

“What brings you here, my lord?” Lady Vanessa asked, her eyes alight.

The older woman appeared pleased to see him, and he intended to press his advantage. Focusing his attention on her, he smiled, earning a giggle. Why couldn’t Catherine react in the same manner?

“I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to spend my time with beautiful women.”

“Then you should have chosen a different location,” Catherine chimed in, her voice full of anger. “My uncle will have something to say about your visit when he returns to the drawing room.”

“Life is more interesting when it’s full of danger.” He winked at Vanessa, catching a glare from Catherine in the process.

“How do you intend to explain yourself when he arrives?” Catherine demanded.

“Yes. Do tell,” Berwick called from the doorway. His fists were balled, and his face held a hint of a purplish shade, but he appeared to be holding his temper. Spotting Dudgery standing further back, Jonathan understood the baron’s restraint.

“I have come to offer a white flag of surrender. Let’s not allow our family’s past to affect our future any longer.” Although having no fond feelings for Berwick, his hatred belonged to the late baron, Catherine’s father. Unlike the viscounts’ before him, he saw no reason to allow his anger to pass on to the next titleholder.

Berwick’s mouth fell open, but he didn’t respond.

“Good man.” Dudgery pushed himself around Berwick to enter the room. “Says a lot about the young man’s character, don’t you agree, Berwick?”

Jonathan worked hard to conceal his grin. Dudgery had a skill for manipulation, and he knew the baron wouldn’t dare defy the earl. Although uncomfortable with the earl’s obvious interest in Catherine, Jonathan couldn’t help but feel gratitude for his presence. Little did Dudgery know, but his aid only served to assist
him
in his pursuit of Catherine.

“It certainly does. If you ask me, I’d say the time to end this feud has long passed.” To Berwick’s credit, his words sounded sincere.

Dudgery clapped both men on the back. “This is a historic day. In honor of forging new relationships, we should have a celebration. Care to join me at Ravenhurst this evening? No better brandy can be found in London.”

“I’d be delighted.” Jonathan smiled, pleased with the location choice.

Although not widely known, Jonathan owned Ravenhurst. The club had begun with three, but he remained the last man standing. A touch of sadness soured his memories of the place. Since his two friends sold their portions to him, Ravenhurst hadn’t felt the same.

However, he couldn’t blame them for their decision. Something about the state of marriage made Richard and Greyson change their preference regarding ownership. Of course, the threat against their wives brought about by the club had played a part in their decision.

“I will join you as well.” Berwick’s tolerant smile slipped slightly.

Glancing back at Catherine, Jonathan nearly broke out in laughter. Her wide eyes regarded him with a hint of suspicion. What did she think of his desire to end the feud?

He wished he could remain and talk to Catherine as he’d hoped for upon coming here, but with Berwick and Dudgery in the room, he’d lost his opportunity.

As his eyes touched the faces in the room, he caught approval and a glimmer of something else in Lady Vanessa’s face. When taking his leave, his mind recalled that look. Lady Vanessa had a reputation of being meddlesome. He hoped her newest plan didn’t involve him. One matchmaking woman in his life was enough. Aunt Mildred had already sent him two letters spelling out her expectations.

When he entered his house, Kamins told him Stanwick awaited him in the study. Confused by the summons, Jonathan handed his butler his gloves and made his way to the study. As expected, Stanwick sat tapping his foot. Judging by his constant movement, he felt ill at ease.

“Stanwick, I didn’t expect you to return from Rosetta’s so soon.”

His brother drew himself to his feet. “Yes, well, I had business to attend to. Mr. Spinner indicated a desire to see me this morning.”

“Oh.” Jonathan slid the brandy from the shelf and raised the decanter toward Stanwick in a silent question. After his brother shook his head, Jonathan poured himself a glass. If the purpose of this conversation was for Stanwick to complain about the funds left by their father, Jonathan would need the brandy to provide the patience to endure the talk.

“I’ve hired him to oversee the management of my funds.”

“Wise decision,” Jonathan said, settling back in his seat. “You’ll find him to be intelligent and shrewd.”

“I’m sorry you had to find out that way. I meant to tell you about the arrangement in Father’s will regarding the funds for myself and our brothers, but . . . I couldn’t find the right time.”

“That’s all right. I’m sure you found out in a similar manner.”

Stanwick’s head dropped. “Actually, Father told me of his intention years ago. At the time, I harbored anger for you and his claims seemed logical. Then considering you . . . Regardless, I didn’t think he’d actually follow through with it.”

Jonathan’s hand gripped the glass much too tightly for its delicate construction. Loosening each finger, one at a time, he relaxed, then downed the remainder of the liquid. After placing the glass on the desk where it would be safe, he surveyed his brother.

In all these years, he never realized Stanwick’s opinion of him had dropped so low. Their father’s ability to poison someone’s mind came without question. At least his brother had moved past their father’s beliefs. He also appeared to be remorseful, so Jonathan couldn’t fault him.

“That doesn’t matter. Leave the past back where it belongs.”

Stanwick let out a long breath. “Father had no idea how wrong he’d pegged you.”

“Well, perfection is hard to peg.” Jonathan shot him his teasing grin, ignoring the sadness creeping up from within.

Stanwick obviously felt appeased. As he excused himself, leaving Jonathan to his loneliness, his brother’s step appeared lighter. Not for the first time, Jonathan envied his brother. As the favored son, he had no obligations or duties weighing him down. Despite spending years fighting said responsibilities, Jonathan knew he had to face them now.