Wicked Proposition (44 page)

Lilly would not be happy to see him with
another. She would seek to embarrass or humiliate his wife. His
lips tightened at the prospect.

###

The coach stopped at the dressmaker’s shop. It
was recommended by a young woman and her chaperone when they
stopped briefly to ask directions. The young woman was only too
happy to recommend Madame Chevalier. The girl could not stop
stammering when she saw the handsome bruised features. She knew who
he was. It had to be the infamous Captain Van Ryker leaning down
from the coach to speak to her.

Miss Agnes Wentworth was fairly tittering with
delight to be able to report to her mother that she had met the
couple while out shopping. The Captain was as wickedly handsome as
they said. Mrs. Van Ryker was also strikingly beautiful. Agnes had
been stunned when she had seen her. Agnes’s mother would be
pleased. She would have the distinction of the first sighting of
the couple. It was all any could talk about.

###

Nicholas guided his wife into the shop and
Catherine wandered about to look at fabric. He seemed bemused with
what he should be doing.

Nicholas stood in the shop and drew a complete
blank at what went on here. He talked to the tiny Frenchwoman who
spoke to him animatedly in English. She suddenly looked at
Catherine and frowned slightly. Then she reverted back to French
for her benefit alone.

“You appear to be happier than you were the last
time you were here, ma petite,” Madame Chevalier said in French to
Catherine. “You have as fine a taste in men as you do fabric
choices, I see.”

Catherine appeared confused but said nothing.
Inwardly she was reeling. She had been here before. Questions flew
to her lips, but she decided to let the matter be.

“I can see we must have a design that disguises
your condition,” the dressmaker said warmly as she clapped her
hands and her assistants joined them and they took
measurements.

Catherine dressed when it was done and joined
Nicholas. He looked suspiciously like he was sleeping on the divan
in the corner of the shop. She smothered a laugh when she heard a
distinct snore coming from his direction.

Madame Chevalier showed her sketches and they
went over fabrics and colors. The dressmaker insisted on another
fabric and Catherine wanted to weep when she saw it. It was a deep
emerald gossamer silk so soft and luxurious she shook her head. It
was far too costly but the Madame insisted upon it. She said it
would be her honor to design a special gown for her first
event.

The dressmaker’s eyebrows shot up when Catherine
named the hostesses who had invited her and her husband to their
parties. The names meant nothing to Catherine, but clearly they
meant something to Madame Chevalier.

Marie suggested a higher waistline to disguise
her defined condition and nodded as ribbon and lace trim was added.
The sketches were completed and all matter of underclothing,
stockings, shoes, wrappers and hats were chosen.

Marie designed matching reticules for each
ensemble and by the time they finished, Catherine was decidedly
worried Nicholas could afford such costly items and sent him
another worried glance.

The dressmaker said she would contact her for
her fittings and Nicholas looked relieved as he rose and stepped to
the counter. Catherine looked uncomfortable. Nicholas looked down
at her and grinned as he paid the dressmaker. Madame Chevalier was
fairly drooling over her husband and the assistants giggled
incessantly. Catherine felt a stab of female pride her husband was
drawing such attention from other women.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” Nicholas said in a low
tone and his smile was a trifle mocking. “Do you think I cannot
afford to dress my wife?”

At Catherine’s sudden blush, he chuckled and she
sent him a quelling glance and thanked the Madame. They left the
shop and he helped her into the coach.

Once inside she wrung her hands and posed the
question she was unwilling to discuss in front of the dressmaker so
she didn’t embarrass her husband.

“It was so expensive, Nicholas,” she said
worriedly and gazed up at him with an apologetic look. “I got a bit
carried away. I hope the cost isn’t more than you can afford.”

She was further perplexed when he began to laugh
uproariously at her words, bending down to kiss the top of the
expensive bonnet he had bought her weeks before.

“Catherine, I can assure you we are hardly
paupers,” Nicholas said when he recovered himself and sent her
another amused glance. “I am quite wealthy. No, I would say I am
filthy with it. We are fairly reeking of money, wife, though I tell
you it is all made rather illegally. Smuggling in light of
Napoleon’s rise to power has only increased my wealth.”

“Whatever will you do if the English ever ask
you to choose sides one of these days, husband?” she said archly,
disapproval evident on her lovely face.

“I am a citizen of Norway, love. I have no
conflicted opinions.”

Catherine rolled her eyes at him, finding him a
complete and utterly, unrepentant scoundrel, but she adored him.
She insisted they stop at a men’s shop. Once there she took over
choosing clothing for her husband. Nicholas scowled darkly as a
foppish man approached him with a measuring tape to get his inseam.
She nearly exploded in laughter.

Catherine giggled as the little man shivered in
fear and handed her the tape. She got the measurements herself,
feeling a highly sensual impulse as her hands moved over him to get
the simple measurements.

Nicholas appeared to have enjoyed it as he
looked down the front of her gown during the whole process. She
insisted he have new shirts, vests, cravats and waistcoats, as well
as several new pairs of breeches.

Nicholas definitely looked horrified when she
held up a dandified shoe with a ridiculous buckle on it. She
chuckled as she spoke with the little man about her husband’s
simple style.

The black hessians and simple shoes were ordered
as well as a new cloak and gloves. She was content her husband
would look handsome when they stepped out together. She wanted no
one mocking him. Nicholas looked exhausted once his clothing was
ordered and paid for.

Miss Agnes Wentworth was surrounded by a throng
of people at the theatre during intermission. All of them demanded
she recount the tale of running into Captain Van Ryker and his wife
on the street corner while shopping. The debutante enjoyed being
the center of attention. She regaled them all with descriptions of
the couple who had captured the imagination of society.

Her mother was delighted and preening that her
Agnes had been so fortunate to be the first to spot the reclusive
couple. Agnes spoke of the Captain’s dark good looks. She gave the
rumors of the recent brawl credence once and for all as she
mentioned the fading bruises on his face.

The girl whispered the Captain’s wife was so
impossibly beautiful, she could see why the two men had nearly
fought to the death over her. The people sighed as she spoke of the
way the man looked at his lovely wife. It was obvious he clearly
adored her. The romantic depiction made every lady grow round-eyed
and sigh. The lobby was buzzing with the news.

The wagers at White’s began to grow and all were
eager for the Season to begin one month hence where they could
finally see the celebrated pair for themselves.

###

Nicholas was glad Catherine had another task to
keep her busy teaching him to dance. Tieghan sat in a chair and
watched their progress from the edge of the ballroom. He was
chuckling every time Nicholas stumbled over his feet.

Nicholas glowered at him as he listened to his
dainty wife’s instructions. He was grateful she had patience when
he treaded upon her toes more often than not.

Nicholas was looking injured himself when she
cried out in pain.

Soon they were spiraling around the floor with
such grace, Tieghan looked pleased and clapped when they finished.
Nicholas felt foolish and ducked under his wife’s praise. Tieghan
looked horrified when she recruited him for lessons. She would have
none of his arguments.

Nicholas watched his tiny wife teaching the
giant with two left feet to dance. He expressed such mirth
Catherine banished him from the ballroom on several occasions.

Tieghan mastered the waltz and was fairly
gloating as he met Nicholas’s surprised look when he saw them
perform the dance a week later. The giant bowed to Catherine and
she curtseyed to him before they both dissolved into peals of
laughter. Tieghan was horrified when she insisted he accompany
them.

It made sense. Tieghan could keep a close eye
upon Catherine if he was with them. Nicholas felt more secure
knowing the giant was at their backs. Catherine insisted upon
cutting the Norsemen’s hair. He defiantly refused until she
informed him his hair was nearly as long as hers and clearly was in
sore need of a trim.

Tieghan sat as the tiny woman worked with her
lethal scissors, cutting and hacking his pale locks under
Nicholas’s amused gaze. When she was finished she smiled with
satisfaction. His hair brushed his shoulders and he looked less
like a Viking and more respectable.

Catherine’s instruction with the cutlass had
progressed. She was able to ward off Tieghan’s attacks with
admirable skill, making Nicholas look at her quite differently.

His wife looked amazingly fit despite her
growing pregnancy. The exercise had clearly done her well. Her arms
and legs were supple and taut. His eyes lingered upon her trim
bottom as she spun upon the floor. She parried the guarded blade
against the giant and squealed victoriously when she flicked him
once in the chest finally. It was a disheartened Tieghan who vowed
he would teach no more women how to fight, but was pleased
Catherine had done so well.

###

Thomas sat in his office looking at the letter
grimly. He had received the note as he was coming into the office
from a small boy who scurried away before he could question him. He
trembled as he stared at the note. Someone knew.

Thomas crumpled up the note and vowed to burn it
as he shoved it into his pocket. He had a meeting with Iverleigh
the following week. He was counting upon getting Lord Iverleigh’s
draft posted and cashed in time to jump ship for America in the
next two weeks.

Thomas knew something was coming, had always
trusted that instinct when he knew he was close to getting caught.
He was sorry he couldn’t find some scheme to entangle the Countess.
He smelled his own blood at that moment.

###

She didn’t look like a maid. That was all that
Tieghan was thinking when the pretty blonde woman inquired after
the position as Catherine’s new maid. He found himself hovering as
Hennessey seated her in the salon. He was suspicious as always, and
yes, quite attracted to her.

Miss Elise Grey sat with her slender back ramrod
straight upon the settee with her hands folded primly in her lap.
She became aware of him, he could see. Elise spied him there in the
doorway out of the corner of her eye. She grew rigid and ignored
him. After several minutes, she turned her hazel eyes upon him.

“It’s considered rude to skulk,” she said to
Tieghan matter-of-factly. Her hazel eyes looked at him with
annoyance and obvious dislike. She swiveled in her seat and
continued to ignore him while she awaited the Captain’s wife in the
salon.

Minutes passed and the giant still stood there,
his pale eyes unnerving her.

“It’s also rude to stare at others,” she
informed him in a slightly irritated tone. “I do hope you like what
you see.”

He appeared unmoved at her waspish words. Color
tinged her cheeks at the giant’s continued presence.

“What, no tongue in your head? I bet someone cut
it out in punishment for your skulking and your rudeness!” she
snapped finally, her smirk irritating him.

He appeared annoyed at her words, but folded his
arms across his wide chest, undeterred.

“Go now, before I tell your master you have been
bad and he cuts off something else.”

His pale eyes flared then. He left the doorway.
He was grumbling under his breath when he passed Catherine on her
way in. Catherine entered the salon to interview the girl. It was
her fifth of such interviews that week. She breezed into the room
and the young woman in the faded dark blue wool dress rose to meet
her.

###

Elise used a hairpin to pry open the lock to the
cashbox in Van Ryker’s study. She pocketed a wad of bills that
would not be missed, pretending to dust and straighten in his study
while they dined.

Elise had not wanted to resort to thievery, but
in order to facilitate her plan she had to have money.

She learned the Van Ryker’s would be attending a
ball at week’s end. It was also bandied about that Lord Iverleigh
would be there as well. The servants whispered of it below. They
grew quiet when she approached. She managed to glean enough to know
it was an opportunity to pick Iverleigh’s brain in regard to his
eldest ward’s whereabouts.

Elise knew from experience from watching
Madeline blend into these affairs with James. All one had to do was
drop names and the gentry were oblivious, especially if the lady
was as pretty and vivacious as Madeline had been.

Elise was quiet and introverted. She was better
at listening than talking, a useful skill when you were seeking
information. She would sneak into the party posing as a noblewoman
and none would be the wiser. She hummed under her breath as she
wondered what her name should be for this new performance.

Madeline had taught her much. Her sister would
be pleased she paid attention.

The cook and other maids stopped talking when
she entered and made up a tray. They thought her uppity and snooty
and she laughed silently to herself when she overheard them talking
about her.