Devoted to the Duke, page 15
“You had the next dance with Lady Catherine, I believe.”
Stanley nodded agreeable. “I do.”
“I plan to marry her,” he said bluntly. “She will dance the next number with me.”
The viscount eyed him interest. “I understand, Your Grace.” He nodded and left.
Jeremy rejoined Catherine, who frowned as Stanley walked away.
“Amanda arranged for me to dance with her husband. What did you say to him to make him turn away?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he responded. “Come.”
He took her hand, longing to strip the glove from it so he could kiss his way up the tender flesh of her bare arm. Instead, he guided her back to the dance floor. The music began again and he took her in his arms.
She glared at him. “You can’t run off all of my partners.”
“I agree.”
Already, he could see his actions had caught the eye of several people present. He remembered that his purpose tonight had been not only to begin searching for a new wife but to clean his tarnished reputation by behaving impeccably before the ton. Rachel and Jenny’s future depended upon him. He’d restored the St. Clairs’ financial position and now he must remedy the social aspects.
“I wish I could claim all of your dances,” he said. “I know that’s not possible. I merely wished for us to finish our conversation.”
She sniffed. “Nothing needs to be finished, Your Grace. I’ve told you that we no longer suit.”
He gazed at her steadily. “I don’t believe you.”
Catherine gasped. “You . . . you . . . no gentlemen would say that to a lady. You’re calling me a . . . liar?”
Jeremy grinned. “I am.”
She huffed. “Then why would you even be interested in being with me?”
“Because you’re different from every other woman on the Marriage Mart tonight. You have a grace and beauty that none of the others possess. The years have strengthen your confidence. You have a maturity about you that I find quite appealing.
“And because I’ve longed for you ever since the night we met. You are the woman I should have married, Catherine. It’s always been you.”
She stiffened in his arms. Tears welled in her eyes.
“Don’t cry,” he said softly. “Unless they are tears of happiness.”
“Make no mistake, Your Grace. I’m not happy,” she ground out, her blue eyes darkening. “I’m furious at you. I tried to politely tell you that I have no desire to be your duchess. You’ve accused me of lying. I would never want to be with a man who thought so little of me.” Catherine paused, her eyes growing wintry. “Besides, you already have a daughter. I’m not interested in being a mother to another woman’s child.”
His hold tightened on her. Nothing she could have said would have surprised him more—or cut him to the quick. He adored Jenny. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his sweet daughter.
“Thank you for making your opinion known to me,” he said curtly.
They finished their dance without further conversation. Jeremy returned her to where Charlotte stood and bowed.
“I wish you a good evening,” he said tersely and walked away.
Chapter Eighteen
Catherine’s throat grew thick with unshed tears as Jeremy strode away. A part of her went with him. This man would always hold her heart. He could never know how she truly felt about him. She’d needed to hurt him in order to push him away. Obviously, he cared for his daughter a great deal and her cruel words had done the trick.
“Excuse me,” she told Charlotte. “I must go to the retiring room.”
Catherine fled the ballroom, her eyes downcast. Hopefully, Charlotte would wait to tell her next partner where she was. She entered the room and was grateful no one was in it, which didn’t surprise her because it was so early in the evening. She went to a basin and splashed cool water on her face, drying it with a handkerchief she removed from her reticule.
She refused to cry. After the accident, she’d learned tears did no good. They didn’t make her leg ache less or help it heal more quickly. They didn’t bring Mama back. They certainly didn’t cure Papa’s paralysis. She’d learned to make the best of things, locking away her emotions. She greeted everyone with a smile and, above all, she never let her father see how difficult it was to care for him. Walking into his room each day with him lying immobile in his bed ripped at her heart.
Pushing Jeremy away now had hurt the most of all. Catherine told herself it was for the best. She’d seen the passion in his eyes. He’d revealed how he’d longed for her all of these years. He would have married her without question. Knowing what a blackguard Statham was, it wouldn’t have surprised her if her cousin had tried to blackmail her after the wedding so that he would keep her secrets. She wouldn’t put herself in that position and she certainly would never put the St. Clair family at risk.
As it was, she’d already gained the attention of Lord Aubrey. He would be an earl someday. That still might tempt Statham to extort money from her. He’d proven so mercenary that Catherine must not only find a husband soon but watch whom she wed. Her original plan of marrying the lowest ranking gentleman was sound. She only needed to find one that fit the bill.
Two giggling girls entered and she decided she better return and find her partner. She did, apologizing for missing part of their dance. The baron was in his mid-thirties, with a round, red face and thinning hairline. Before the music ended, she already knew he had three very active little boys and wanted a new wife to take charge of them. Physically, he didn’t appeal to her in the slightest but Catherine added his name as the first to the list she would keep of possible suitors.
She danced several more times, making sure to keep her eyes on her partner and not scouring the ballroom for a glimpse of the Duke of Everton. It was almost impossible to do for she felt drawn to him as a magnet. She must never seek him out and knew never to be alone with him, else her resolve would crumble.
Finally, the supper dance arrived and Lord Aubrey returned to her side.
As they danced, he asked, “How has your evening been so far? Is it a good start to the Season?”
“I have met some very nice people and renewed a few old acquaintances.”
“I saw you danced twice with Everton,” he remarked.
“We did.” She left it at that.
“We were friends as boys,” he finally said. “He and his brother, Timothy, came home often with me from Eton. I also visited Eversleigh.” Aubrey paused. “The brother died. It somehow killed the friendship between us. I suppose I reminded Jeremy of Timothy and all the times we’d spent together.”
“I see.”
“Did he ask to call upon you?” he asked casually.
“No. Why would he?”
Aubrey seemed to relax. The song ended and he led her into supper. They went straight to a table where Lord and Lady Rutherford already sat. Amanda and Stanley joined them.
“I’ll bring you a plate, Lady Catherine,” Aubrey said, as the other men at the table rose and followed him to the buffet line.
“How has tonight gone?” Amanda asked. “I saw Countess Lieven speaking with you.”
“Her influence must spread far and wide. My programme was filled minutes after she stopped by and greeted me.”
“She takes to certain people,” Amanda confided. “If she supports you, you will easily find a husband this Season.”
As the men returned with plates heaping with food, Catherine saw Jeremy cross the room. He seated himself next to a fair-haired young woman with eyes as wide as a doll’s. Catherine turned away and did her best to eat, though it was hard to swallow. Twice, she glanced their way and saw them speaking animatedly.
Lady Rutherford was kind and engaged her in conversation. Amanda mentioned she was holding a garden party the day after tomorrow and insisted that Catherine attend. Aubrey immediately asked to escort her. In front of his family, she didn’t have the heart to tell him no and quietly agreed.
Lord Rutherford excused himself and returned to the card room. Lady Rutherford told Amanda and Aubrey that they needed to come and meet one of her girlhood friends.
That left Catherine sitting with Lord Stanley.
“I want to apologize for missing our dance,” she began.
His mouth twitched in amusement. “Oh, that’s quite all right. It gave me a chance to have a drink.” He took a sip of his wine. “I was under the impression that you didn’t know many people in London.”
“I haven’t been here in years. I came to town recently and am staying at my cousin’s house, Lord Statham. I’m hoping to meet new people and renew former acquaintances during the Season.”
“At least you don’t have to worry about being paraded about the Marriage Mart. Not many women can say they managed to land a husband the day the Season begins.”
His words shocked her. “I beg your pardon?”
Stanley studied her a moment. “I see I’ve spoken out of turn. Forgive me, Lady Catherine.” He rose.
She did the same and placed a hand on his forearm. “Please, don’t leave. Tell me what you mean.”
He indicated for her to sit and she did. He took his seat and leaned close. “I’m sure he will say something to you soon. Do me a favor and act surprised if you can.” He hesitated. “Everton told me he planned to marry you. That’s how he chased me away earlier.”
Catherine gripped the table’s edge. Nausea swelled within her. She grew woozy.
And then she fainted.
*
Jeremy laughed at something his companion said. He couldn’t remember her name, only that it was her second Season, so she wasn’t as green as a few of the other women he’d danced with. He’d actually enjoyed dancing with her and she’d been quite pleasant over supper.
But she was no Catherine Crawford.
Fresh hurt oozed through him as he wondered why Catherine had pushed him away. She had a kind heart so her cutting remark had seemed totally out of character. He’d sensed the spark still between them and she’d admitted she’d thought about him as he had her.
What action drove her to push him away as she had?
He’d positioned himself at a table so he could see her and Aubrey, her supper companion, taming the jealousy he felt against his old friend. He watched them surreptitiously while still actively participating in conversation at this table. Some influential people of the ton sat here and he still wanted to win his way back into their good graces.
The blond touched his forearm gently. “If you will excuse me, Your Grace, I wish to visit the retiring room.”
“Of course.”
He rose and helped her from her seat. Two other young ladies at the table accompanied her.
After she left, he turned to his right, where Countess Lieven sat. He’d greeted her when he’d first sat but he’d been occupied by those across and seated to his left.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself, Everton.”
“Yes, I am.” He glanced over and saw Catherine smiling at something Aubrey said.
“I see you’re keeping your eye on Lady Catherine Crawford.”
He cut his eyes back to his companion. “Is it that obvious?”
Her tinkling laughter sounded. “Not to a casual observer. Most here are too busy with those around them to notice.”
“Except you.”
She nodded. “Except me. It’s a particular talent of mine. I know I helped you once before.”
“And I am most grateful for that, Countess.”
“I noticed you danced with her twice in a row. So did others.”
When he didn’t reply, she said, “I approve. Of you and Lady Catherine. She has an air about her. It would be well worth your time to pursue her.”
He frowned. “I can’t. The lady informed me earlier this evening that she has no interest in me.”
Countess Lieven clucked her tongue. “Then persuade her, Everton. You can be most charming when you choose to be.”
“I’m no longer interested in her either,” he lied.
“Then why do you keep staring at her?”
“I can’t help it,” he admitted. Jeremy sighed. “My family is what’s most important to me, Countess. First in my heart is my daughter, Jenny, who’s just over a year old. Lady Catherine told me she didn’t want to mother another woman’s child. I can’t seriously consider wedding a woman who’d treat my own flesh and blood like an outcast.”
She pursed her lips in displeasure. “And you believed that? A woman who selflessly nursed her father for years? Lady Catherine has strength of character. There is some other, hidden reason why she turned you away, Everton. You should discover it. Ask to call upon her tomorrow. Take her for a drive in the park.”
Bitterness filled him. “Aubrey already beat me to that. He’s taking her for a drive tomorrow.”
Jeremy glanced again at the Rutherford table and saw Lady Rutherford, Amanda, and Aubrey stepping away, leaving only Stanley and Catherine present. Lord Rutherford had already left some minutes earlier. Seeing the pair rise, he assumed they were returning to the ballroom.
He stood. “I will take your advice, Countess.”
She smiled. “Then I wish you the best of luck, Everton.”
As he crossed the room he saw the pair sit again. Catherine’s face lost all color. She began slumping and Jeremy raced the rest of the way to her, catching her before she hit the floor. Unfortunately, she clasped the tablecloth in her hands and as she slid from her chair, she took it with her. The moment he scooped her up, dishes crashed to the floor. Every head in the room turned in their direction and several began rushing over to her aid as others gasped.
Stanley stood and loudly said, “Lady Catherine grew overheated and told me she needed some fresh air.” He stepped in front of Jeremy, who held the unconscious Catherine in his arms. “Don’t worry. Her fiancé will care for her.” He nudged Jeremy’s shoulder and said, “Follow me.”
Stanley helped him push through the buzzing crowd and said, “Take her to the study.”
Only as they left the supper room did he realize what Stanley had said. Jeremy remembered telling him he was going to marry Catherine—and now everyone in the ton thought they were engaged.
He wondered what she would think when she awoke and found herself pledged to him.
Jeremy had been inside the study many times before when he used to visit the Rutherfords with Timothy. He followed Stanley there now and waited for him to throw open the door. Once he did, Jeremy entered and went to the settee. He sat, leaving Catherine’s head and shoulders in his lap. Some of her hairpins fell out, loosening her hair. He slipped a curl between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed it, marveling at the silky texture.
“Is she all right?” Charlotte cried as she rushed into the room, Morefield following closely behind her.
Before he could reply, Amanda appeared. “How is she?” Aubrey and Lady Rutherford were on her heels.
“She’s fine, as I stated,” Stanley said. “She grew warm and was merely going to seek some fresh air when she became weak. You can see she’s in good hands.”
“Are you engaged?” demanded Charlotte. Morefield, standing behind his wife, shrugged helplessly at him, a huge grin on his face.
“Everton said he was going to marry her,” Stanley volunteered.
“I did say that,” Jeremy admitted to the group. “However, I had not yet asked Lady Catherine for her hand.”
Amanda laughed. “So everyone in the ton knows—except for the bride-to-be. How delightful!”
He caught Aubrey frowning at him.
“Should we send for smelling salts?” a worried Lady Rutherford asked.
“No,” he said firmly. “It’s a nasty way to awaken. She’ll rouse shortly.”
“We don’t want to overwhelm her,” Amanda said. “Come, everyone. Let’s leave them.” She took Stanley’s arm and then her mother’s. “We should see to our guests.”
The three left. Aubrey glared at Jeremy before following them out.
“I think we should stay,” Charlotte said. “It might frighten Catherine to awaken alone with Everton.” She took a seat and motioned for her husband to sit next to her.
Moments later, he felt Catherine begin to stir. Her eyelids fluttered a few times and then opened. Those bright, blue eyes focused on him and, for a moment, her guard was down. Jeremy saw the longing in her eyes.
And knew he still had a chance.
Chapter Nineteen
Catherine closed her eyes again. The dream seemed all too real. She could smell Jeremy. Feel the heat from his palm as his hand cupped her face. She felt utterly content. And safe. She couldn’t remember the last time she wasn’t worried about something. In his arms, though, she knew nothing bad could ever happen to her.
“Is she awake?” Charlotte asked.
She frowned. How did Charlotte get in her dream?
Catherine mumbled, “Go away,” hoping to sink once more into the luxury of being held by a man who was everything she’d ever wanted.
“Catherine? Wake up,” Charlotte insisted.
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes—and found herself looking into Jeremy St. Clair’s emerald ones.
She tried to bolt up but he held her in place.
“Be still,” he said soothingly. “You fainted.”
She realized he held her in his lap and smoothed her hair in comfort. Butterflies exploded in her stomach, making her feel faint again.
Charlotte knelt next to her. “Everything is fine, Catherine. You were too hot. Did the dancing tire you too much? How is your leg? Does it pain you?”
Morefield appeared and eased his wife away. “She’s fine. Let’s give them time together.”
“At least tell her about Statham,” Charlotte said.
Morefield gazed down at her. “I spoke to Statham about the convenience of having you and Leah stay with us during the Season. He thought it a splendid idea. I’ll send our carriage over at noon tomorrow. Have your things packed up by the maids so you and your sister can return to us.”
