Devoted to the Duke, page 14
“It’s Lady Catherine Crawford, am I correct?” the woman asked sharply.
“Yes, ma’am.” Catherine curtseyed, dismayed the woman didn’t bother to introduce herself.
“I’m quite surprised to find you here tonight. Statham has only recently taken his title. That means you should be in mourning.”
She’d known some would disapprove of her actions but Catherine hadn’t expected to be confronted so boldly only moments after entering the ballroom. She wasn’t letting Statham bully her and she would stand strong against this woman, as well.
“I have been in mourning for many years, my lady. Five to be precise. I lost both parents that night in the carriage accident. It merely took Papa longer to pass.”
“I say!” The woman looked appalled and quickly turned away.
The countess remained behind and said, “Do not listen to her, Lady Catherine. She’s old and spiteful. I, for one, am happy to see you here. How are you?”
“I am well, thank you.”
“May I see your programme?”
Catherine handed it over and the ambassador’s wife studied it. “I see you already have a few partners. Let’s see if we can find you some more.”
With a flick of her wrist, a dark-haired man with brown eyes appeared. She spoke quietly to him, so low that Catherine couldn’t hear what was said. Then the man nodded abruptly and left.
“It’s taken care of. You should not lack for partners tonight.”
“You are optimistic, Countess Lieven. I realize I have several years on me, especially when compared to most of the young women present.”
“I wouldn’t worry, my dear. You’re a beautiful woman among pretty girls. I know you gave years of your life to your father’s care. Nursing a loved one can take its toll. My advice is for you to relax and enjoy yourself tonight as you reenter society.” The countess leaned close and touched her cheek to Catherine’s. She whispered, “If you need anything while in London, let me know.”
Astounded, she said, “Thank you.”
After that, a stream of gentlemen came her way, quickly filling her dance card. As each gentleman left, Charlotte told her exactly who he was and his position in society. Dumbfounded by the list of prominent gentlemen who’d agreed to partner with her, Catherine was at a loss for words.
Clasping her elbow, Charlotte said, “You’re already a success, Catherine, and the first song hasn’t even played yet. You will have your choice of husbands. I’m sure of it.”
She glanced about the crowded room and heard the orchestra tuning up and then saw Lord Aubrey making his way toward her.
He bowed and offered his hand. Leading her to the center of the ballroom, he said, “Thank you for helping me open the ball.”
“What?” she asked, noticing that no other couples joined them.
“Ah, I see you’ve never been to a Rutherford ball. My parents and siblings always start off the proceedings and dance the first measures before others step in.”
Catherine stopped in her tracks. “I . . . I didn’t know. I . . . I haven’t danced in several years.” She thought of her slight limp and how that would translate to dancing—especially with so many eyes on her.
Aubrey smiled. “I’m considered an excellent dancer, Lady Catherine. Follow my lead and all will be well.”
He encouraged her to keep moving and they came to the center of the room. By now, Lord and Lady Rutherford were there and Amanda and Stanley joined them. Aubrey took her right hand in his and placed an arm snuggly about her. The musicians awaited their cue. Catherine saw Lord Rutherford nod to them and the music began.
*
Jeremy tapped his cane on the roof of the carriage and his driver stopped. He hopped out.
“We’re still three blocks away, Your Grace.”
“And the road all the way there is clogged. I’ll walk from here. Stay nearby.”
He headed toward the Rutherford townhouse. By the time he reached it, the receiving line was so long, he decided to avoid it. He moved toward the ballroom, anxiety filling him as his eyes passed over so many women embarking upon their come-out. They’d looked young to him five years ago when he’d chosen Mary as his bride. At twenty-eight now, he felt ancient because they looked barely out of the schoolroom.
The dancing wouldn’t begin until the receiving line died down, so he decided to get a drink. He weaved through bunches of women and their protective mamas who eyed him with speculation. By the time he returned from the card room to ask a few partners to dance, he was sure the news of the Duke of Everton’s presence would have spread like wildfire.
He entered the card room and accepted a drink from a servant. As he sipped it, he made his way around the room, visiting with a few old friends and other acquaintances from his business ventures. When he thought enough time had passed, he set down his empty tumbler in order to return to the ballroom. As he ventured there, he spied Morefield and raised a hand in greeting.
His friend rushed up, clearly out of breath. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Everton. I was gone all day. Looking at new horseflesh. I only received your note after I dressed for this evening.”
“That’s quite all right. I wasn’t expecting a reply. I merely wanted you to know I would be in attendance tonight. It’s Cor’s idea. She thinks it high time I took a new wife so that Jenny will have a mother. With Rachel’s come-out in the near future, I thought it best to begin attending Season events again and try to get into the good graces of society.”
“Will you stop talking?” Morefield demanded.
Jeremy frowned, noticing his friend’s agitation. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I merely need to tell you something.” He paused. “Lady Catherine is here.”
His heart lurched in his chest and then began pounding wildly. “Catherine—is here?”
“Yes.” Morefield pulled him aside, next to a large potted plant in a corner. “She came in the carriage with us. Statham passed and she is reentering society.”
A warm rush ran through Jeremy. If he put a name to it, he might have called it joy.
“Charlotte’s tasked me to help fill Catherine’s dance card.”
He smiled broadly. “I will take every available dance.”
Morefield shook his head. “You don’t understand. Countess Lieven spoke to Lady Catherine a few moments ago. Suddenly, men flocked to her. I’m sure her card is filled by now. You’re too late.”
“What!” He eyed his friend. “Then give me your spot. I’m sure you are one of her partners.”
“I’ll be happy to, Everton. It’s the second of the evening.”
He placed a hand on Morefield’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Good luck, Jeremy. I know . . . what she meant to you.”
The orchestra began tuning their instruments and Morefield flashed him a smile and departed. Exhilaration filled him. He was free. Free to dance with Catherine. Free to ask for her hand. He paused. It wouldn’t do to get ahead of himself. While she’d crept into his thoughts daily over the years, he had no idea if she still possessed any interest or feelings toward him.
How could she not? He still remembered that wonderful supper conversation. Their time together on the terrace. The feel of her in his arms as he held her, her perfume wafting in the air.
Their kiss.
She had to remember him. She had to.
Jeremy stepped into the ballroom, his eyes sweeping across the floor. Only three couples stood in the center and he recalled the Rutherford custom of family opening the ball before others joined in. He spied Amanda and her husband, Stanley. She still retained her figure despite having given birth to a son. Lord and Lady Rutherford stood in the center and the earl nodded brusquely, causing the music to strike up. Aubrey faced Jeremy’s direction and he regretted their friendship had gone by the wayside.
Then his jaw dropped as Aubrey twirled with his partner. He was dancing with a beautiful redhead. Her deep, auburn hair gleamed and her rich, sapphire dress hugged every curve.
It was Catherine Crawford.
Jeremy took three steps toward the dance floor and forced himself to stop. He couldn’t charge across a ballroom full of guests and claim Catherine in the middle of a dance. He was trying to avoid scandal and repair his reputation, not add fuel to the fire. Stepping back, he watched the couple with envy as they conversed while they danced. The years had only added to Catherine’s poise. She was more beautiful now than she’d been as that young woman he’d met the day he’d returned from his Grand Tour.
He waited patiently for the music to end. Minutes from now, he would hold the woman he’d loved for years in his arms.
Finally.
Chapter Seventeen
Lord Aubrey smiled down at her. “You have told me an untruth, Lady Catherine.” His blue eyes twinkled at her. “You are a marvelous dancer.”
Her cheeks heated at the compliment. “I used to love to dance. I broke my leg, though, several years ago. I haven’t danced since then. Though it mended, when I am tired it causes me to limp.”
“I’m sorry that happened. Amanda told me of the accident. My condolences to you. I can’t imagine losing both of my parents.”
“It was . . . difficult.”
“Would you like to take a walk in the park with me tomorrow afternoon?” he asked as he swept her into a turn. “Or if your leg tires easily, we can drive.”
He was being far too kind to her. She knew Amanda had instructed him to spend time with her but asking her to the park tomorrow was unnecessary. “Lord Aubrey, you have more than done your duty tonight. I know your sister asked you to dance with me.”
“She did,” he admitted. “But I am the one asking you to accompany me to the park tomorrow.”
“Why?” she asked, bewildered that he would want to be in her company.
“Why?” He laughed. “Because I am interested in you, Lady Catherine.”
She felt her blush deepening. “My lord, look around your ballroom. There are dozens of young ladies here for you to choose from. Why would you ask me and not one of them? You know how the ton is. Once you’re seen paying attention to a woman outside a scheduled event, tongues will wag. You don’t need your name coupled with mine when there are so many eligible women for you to pursue this Season.”
His intent gaze almost caused her to stop dancing. Catherine swallowed, her mouth dry.
“I see I’m not making myself clear. I am interested in you. I want to see you tomorrow.” He tightened his hand around hers. “The question is, are you interested in being seen with me?”
“That . . . would be nice,” she said primly.
Aubrey laughed. “I want to get to know you better, Lady Catherine. None of these young misses have anything on you. Already, we’ve had more conversation between us than I’ll have the rest of the evening.”
She laughed. “You mean you might tire of talking of the weather or contemplating if the lemonade is too tart or too sweet?”
“Exactly.”
The music ended and he escorted her from the dance floor. As he did, he asked, “Do you have any more dances available tonight?”
“I’m afraid not,” she said with regret.
“Who is your partner for the supper dance?”
Catherine consulted her programme. “Lord Burleigh.”
“Burleigh? He’ll bore you to death over supper. Leave it to me. I’ll tell him you’re an old friend of the family and Mother wishes you to sit with the family. In fact, I’ll make sure to claim you for the supper dance and lead you to our table.”
“You can’t do that,” she insisted.
“My parents are hosting this ball. Tonight, I can do as I please.” He took her hand and kissed her fingers and bowed. “Till later.”
As he retreated, Morefield brought Charlotte to Catherine’s side.
“Aubrey certainly seemed interested in you,” her friend remarked. “You talked almost the entire dance.”
“He asked me to drive with him in the park tomorrow.”
Charlotte’s eyes lit with glee. “I’m so happy for you.”
Catherine frowned. “I have no lady’s maid, though. No one to chaperone us. If I ask a maid to accompany me, it would anger Statham.”
“An even better reason for you to move in with us during the Season.” Charlotte looked to her husband. “Morefield, you must speak to Statham tonight. Man to man. He would probably turn Catherine’s request down out of spite. Coming from you, though, he will see the advantage to having his cousins under someone else’s roof.” She smiled at her husband. “Morefield can be quite persuasive.”
He raised his wife’s hand and kissed it. “Then I am a man on a mission. If you’ll excuse me.”
As he walked off, Charlotte said, “That won’t do. He’s to dance the second dance with you. Morefield!” she called out.
“Good evening, ladies,” a deep voice said.
As Catherine turned, Charlotte said, “Oh, hello, Everton. Would you go and fetch Morefield? The music’s about to start and he was to partner with Catherine.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs as Jeremy St. Clair’s eyes met hers. “I arranged with Morefield to claim this particular dance.” He offered his arm. “Lady Catherine?”
He was here. After all this time. Not a day had gone by that she hadn’t thought of this man. She remembered between worrying about her own injuries and her father’s how Lord Sather was supposed to call on her that day after the ball. Catherine never learned if he had. Their servants had presented no note from him. No flowers. With everything that had occurred and her insisting they return immediately to Statham Manor, none of the servants had mentioned the marquess at all. She’d been swallowed up in caring for her father and by the time she’d thought to ask, it was too late.
She assumed he knew what had happened to her family. After all, he was friends with Morefield. Charlotte had mentioned Sather a few times in her letters. How he’d become the Duke of Everton. That he’d wed. But Catherine knew nothing beyond that. She didn’t want to.
Yet here he stood in front of her, looking even more handsome and distinguished than he had when she’d first met him. She realized he was one of those men who would only grow better looking with age.
When she hesitated, he took her hand and placed it on his forearm and led her to the dance floor.
As they moved to its center, he said, “You may not remember me.” His arm went about her as he took her hand in his. “But I remember everything about that night.”
“I do, too,” she said softly and the music began.
They danced the first measures without speaking. She inhaled the clean, masculine scent that she’d never forgotten as she drank him in. She could see motion and color swirling about them but she focused solely on him. The solid feel of his shoulder as her fingers rested upon it. His hand splayed across the small of her back. Yet what good could come of this? He was married. Catherine almost wished Jeremy St. Clair hadn’t come back into her life for already her heart ached more than it had since losing Papa.
“I’m sorry about the accident,” he said. “I would have called to see how you were but my own father passed away that same night. By the time I returned from Eversleigh and the funeral, you were gone.” A shadow crossed his face. “I’ve regretted that ever since.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” She paused, deciding to address what stood between them. “Charlotte and I correspond every month. She told me you’ve wed. Is your duchess here? I would enjoy meeting her.”
An odd look crossed his face. “Mary is gone,” he informed her, his voice void of emotion. “She gave birth to our daughter over a year ago and was lost in childbirth.”
Catherine thought she might faint and clutched his shoulder. “My deepest sympathies, Your Grace. As hard as it was for me to lose Mama and Papa, I cannot imagine losing a beloved spouse.”
His gaze locked on her. “I’m not here to talk about Mary, Catherine. I’m here to talk about us.”
“Us?”
“I have never felt a stronger connection with anyone than I did with you that night at the Wethersby ball. I tried to put you out of my mind but it was impossible. Tell me you’ve thought of me, Catherine. Tell me I’m not alone in my feelings for you.”
The dance ended. Reluctantly, he released her.
“I have thought of you often,” she admitted as they left the dance floor. “But years have passed, Your Grace. We are two very different people now.”
Everything he’d said thrilled her. It was as if all her dreams were coming true. Yet Catherine was aware of something that she hadn’t know all those years ago when he’d kissed her in the moonlight.
The circumstances of her birth.
It was the reason she wanted to marry a low-ranking gentleman. If Jeremy St. Clair pursued her, she was certain it would end in an offer of marriage. One she could never accept. How could she marry into one of England’s oldest, most noble families? She was illegitimate. A bastard of her father’s by some unknown actress. It didn’t matter that her parents had passed her off to society as their own offspring. She knew the truth. And if it came out after she wed Jeremy, it would destroy him. Catherine couldn’t risk the scandal. She had Leah’s future to think of, even more than her own.
They reached the edge of the dance floor and he said, “I agree that our experiences have changed us. What has not changed are my feelings for you, Catherine. Nothing could ever change them.”
She refused to destroy him and his family’s good name. She would have to put an end to this.
“I was a very young woman when we met, Your Grace. I’m afraid we no longer suit one another.”
He grabbed her programme and struck through the name written beside the next dance.
She gasped. “You can’t do that.”
He gave her a wicked grin. “I’m a duke. I make my own rules.”
*
Jeremy didn’t believe Catherine. She’d told him they wouldn’t suit.
She was lying. The question was, why?
Lord Stanley, the partner whose name he’d crossed out, approached them. Jeremy excused himself and stepped away from Catherine in order to meet Amanda’s husband in private.
