Devoted to the Duke, page 16
Catherine’s eyes followed the couple as they left the room. She looked around it, having no idea where she might be.
Suddenly, she remembered why she’d fainted. Stanley told her that Everton was going to marry her. She struggled to sit upright but he held her firmly in place.
“Be still a few more minutes,” he urged. “You don’t want to sit up too quickly or you’ll grow lightheaded again.”
Catherine moistened her lips. “We are alone,” she said. “It’s most improper. How am I to find a husband if I’m compromised?”
He chuckled. “I believe you’ve already found one. After you fainted, I carried you from the buffet room. Stanley told everyone not to worry because your fiancé had everything in hand.”
“What?”
Catherine shot straight up, hitting his jaw. She pushed away from him, eyeing him warily as he held it.
“I’m sorry,” she offered, seeing that he looked in pain. “Did I hurt you?”
“I bit my tongue. It may bleed a little.”
He took her hand and she froze. A delicious warmth spread through her with the contact. No, she couldn’t give in, despite what Stanley had said.
“You’ll have to explain that Stanley misspoke,” she said.
“I’m afraid it’s impossible to un-ring a bell,” Jeremy remarked. “The only way we won’t be engaged is if you break our engagement.”
“But there is no engagement,” Catherine insisted. “You never asked me to marry you.”
“Then I will remedy that now.”
He slipped from the settee to one knee and took both her hands in his. Sincerity shone in his eyes as he said, “Catherine Crawford, meeting you changed my life. If fate hadn’t intervened, I believe we would have wed years ago.” His grip tightened. “We are both free now. I have never forgotten you, nor you, me. There’s something between us, which is more than most couples have before they wed. I want to make you my wife. Say you’ll be mine, Catherine. Mine alone. No others between us.”
She wanted this man more than anyone else. She could wed a thousand men over the years and none would stir the feelings within her that Jeremy St. Clair did. Remembering her birth mother, though, she knew she couldn’t wed him. Complete honesty was important to her. If they couldn’t share everything, it wouldn’t be fair.
And if she told him her ugly secret, he would never want her.
When she didn’t reply, his eyes darkened. Suddenly, he stood and yanked her to her feet, his mouth crushed to hers. He released her hands and wrapped his arms about her, imprisoning her. Catherine struggled to free herself and failed miserably, realizing she didn’t want to be free.
Instead, she gave in to the kiss—and what a kiss it was.
Unlike their kiss long ago when his lips softly brushed hers and then teased her mouth open, this kiss had no gentleness in it. It was harsh. Demanding. Possessive. Thrilling. His tongue swept inside her mouth and assaulted it like an invading army. His aim was to conquer—and he did. Her knees buckled but he held her upright, pressing her tightly against him, her breasts crushed against his broad chest.
Her blood stirred and began to sing in her veins. She answered his kiss, her tongue waging war with his, fighting for him. For her.
For them.
She moaned. He growled. She fought to breathe. He stole it from her. Her body molded to his until she didn’t know where she ended and he began.
And still he kissed her.
She had no sense of time. Rational thought became impossible. Only Jeremy St. Clair’s demanding kisses existed, one ending as another began.
Gradually, his hold on her lessened but he did not release her. Instead, he broke the kiss, his lips hovering just above hers.
“You’ve given me your answer, Catherine. Your kiss can’t hide the way you feel about me.” Those green eyes glowed. “You’re mine.”
He kissed her again, deeply. Lovingly. Longingly. His mouth parted from hers once again.
“I’ll purchase a special license tomorrow. We’ll wed by next week.”
His words left no room for opposition. His kisses had broken her resolve. She would marry this magnificent man.
Even if her secret ate away until nothing was left of her.
“I have one request,” she managed to say, her breath ragged.
He nuzzled her throat, causing her pulse to jump. “Anything. I can deny you nothing.”
“My sister. Leah. She must come with me. I cannot leave her with Statham.”
Jeremy smiled at her. “I always wanted your sister to meet mine. Now, Rachel will have the sister she always wanted.” He kissed her again, softly, reverently.
Catherine thought this must be what heaven was like.
*
“No, please fold the garment this way,” Catherine demonstrated to the maid who was helping her pack. She hid her frustration, knowing a downstairs maid had none of the skills that a lady’s maid possessed and that she was lucky she had any help at all.
A knock sounded and she turned to see Jervis standing in the open doorway.
“Yes, Jervis?”
“Lord Statham wishes to see you at once, Lady Catherine. He is in the study.”
She turned to the maid. “Remember when you finish to go assist Lady Leah.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Catherine stepped into the corridor with Jervis. “Did he say what he wanted?” she asked anxiously. She hadn’t seen him this morning and had hoped to leave the house before he even rose.
“No.”
“Thank you for sending the maid to help. I want to be ready to leave the minute Morefield’s coach arrives.” She placed a hand on the butler’s arm. “I know you have been with the Crawfords for years, Jervis, but if you wish, I’ll see if Everton has a place for you.”
“I would be most grateful, Lady Catherine.”
She was already planning to take Strong with her and Leah and hoped Jeremy would find a place for him. Now, she added Jervis to the growing list.
The door to the study was closed so she knocked and heard her cousin bid her to enter. Catherine went inside, pushing aside memories of her father sitting at that very desk.
“Have a seat.” It was more a command than invitation.
“Thank you,” she said graciously.
He pushed aside the page in front of him. “How did you manage it? Becoming engaged on the first day of the Season?”
She clasped her hands in her lap. “I renewed my acquaintance with Everton. We had been friendly during my come-out. If the accident hadn’t taken me away from London, there’s a strong possibility he would have asked Papa for my hand.”
Statham snorted. “Why didn’t he ask me?”
“It wasn’t necessary. I am of age, Statham. There was no need to inconvenience you. You aren’t my guardian.” She thought of Jeremy on bended knee, asking to marry her.
And of those endless kisses that set her afire.
“I will provide him with the name of the family solicitor and they can discuss the dowry,” she continued. “I hoped you would be pleased that I will soon be off your hands. As it is, I’m moving to Charlotte’s house today with Leah. The London townhome will be available for you to entertain as you see fit.”
“Does Everton have any sisters?” he asked abruptly.
Catherine wondered why he would ask that. “One. She is Leah’s age.”
“I see.”
She waited for him to speak further but silence hung over the room. Finally, she stood. “I will see to the rest of the packing. If you’ll excuse me.”
“When is the wedding? Is it here?” he demanded, a sour look on his face.
“I’m not certain of the exact date. Everton’s purchasing the special license today. He wants us to be wed by next week. Of course, I will let you know the time and place.” To placate him, she said, “I was hoping you would give me away. As for the breakfast, Charlotte begged to host it and I could not turn down her request.”
Her friend hadn’t—but Statham didn’t need to know that. Catherine knew he wouldn’t want the expense of hosting the wedding breakfast himself.
He lifted a sheet from his desk and began reading it so she supposed she’d been dismissed. She returned upstairs and found that her things were now packed away so she went to Leah’s room. The maid fastened the lock on the trunk.
“I’ll have a footman come and bring the trunks downstairs, my lady,” the maid said.
After the servant left, Leah threw her arms around Catherine. “I’m so relieved we’ll be leaving Statham.”
“Have a seat,” Catherine advised. “There’s much more to tell you.” She led Leah to the bed and the sisters sat.
“We’ll only be at Charlotte’s a short while.” Before Leah could protest, she added, “I’m getting married. You will come to live with me and Everton.”
“Who’s Everton?” her sister asked, a puzzled look on her face. “Oh, Catherine, don’t tell me you accepted the first man you danced with merely to get away from Statham.”
“No, I didn’t.” She decided to let her happiness show.
“Then why . . .” Leah’s voice trailed off. “You’re blushing. And you’re smiling. Good heavens, you’re radiant! Who is this Everton?”
“He’s the Duke of Everton. Jeremy St. Clair.”
“A duke?” squealed Leah. “Catherine!” She hugged Catherine hard. “Tell me.”
“I knew him many years ago. During my come-out. Lord Sather was to call on me the next day after a ball. He insisted upon bringing his sister, Rachel, who is your same age. He thought you might become good friends. And his grandmamma was also coming to tea.” Catherine paused. “But his father died that night after he reached home. And our carriage crashed.”
Leah took Catherine’s hands. “Oh, my goodness.”
“Everton became the duke and married. He has a daughter. She’s a little over a year old. Her mama died giving birth to her. So, I am to be both a new wife and mother.”
“You look so happy.”
“I am, Leah. Having Jeremy ask to marry me is what I always wanted.”
“Do you love him?”
“I think so.”
Leah’s eyes lit with mischief. “Have you kissed him?”
Catherine felt her face flame. “I have.”
Her sister hugged her again. “This is the best of news. You sacrificed so many years caring for Papa and me. It’s time you claim some happiness of your own.”
A footman knocked at the door. “I’m to bring the trunks down.” He stepped into the room and handed Catherine a letter. “This came for you, my lady.”
“Thank you. These two trunks go as well as the three in my room.”
“Very well.”
Catherine saw her name boldly scrawled on the front and knew it had to be Jeremy’s hand. She turned it over and studied the seal, which would soon be her family seal. A twinge of guilt ran through her. Deceiving Jeremy was the last thing she wanted to do. A part of her itched to reveal her past but seeing Leah’s happiness and feeling her own made her push it aside.
She read the note quickly and turned to her sister. “You and I, as well as Charlotte and Morefield, have been invited to tea at Everton’s this afternoon. He wants you and Rachel to become acquainted and for us to meet Cor, his grandmamma.”
“What an odd name.”
“I know. I’m sure there’s some significance behind it. I’m going to send a reply before we leave for Morefield’s.”
Catherine returned to her room and read the message once more. Her eyes lingered over the last line.
I’m counting the hours until I see you, my love.
Jeremy had called her my love.
Chapter Twenty
Jeremy paced across the room, stopping occasionally to look out the window.
“Will you sit?” Cor asked, clearly irritated.
Rachel merely looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.
After he’d returned from buying the special license, he’d informed both women that he’d asked for Catherine Crawford’s hand in marriage and that she was coming with her sister and the Morefields to tea today. Rachel plied him with a thousand questions. Cor merely nodded her approval.
He took a seat, his heel tapping rhythmically, causing his knee to bounce up and down.
“You must really care for Lady Catherine if you’re so nervous,” Rachel pointed out.
“I do,” he snapped, wishing she and the others would arrive.
“Of course, he does, Rachel,” Cor said soothingly. “Your brother has always made careful decisions where his family is concerned. I’ve already met her and approve of the match.”
“You’ve met her, Cor?” Rachel asked. “Tell me everything about her,” she enthused.
“She’s beautiful. Charming. Intelligent. She will make for a wonderful duchess. Do you have anything to add, Grandson?”
Only that he might die if he didn’t see her—didn’t kiss her—in the next few minutes.
“No. You’ve described her well,” he said. “She lost her mother several years ago and has been caring for her invalid father. He recently passed.”
Hearing a noise, he hurried to the window. “They’re here,” he said, his voice steady but his heart racing with anticipation.
Without a word, he bounded out of the drawing room to go meet her, hearing Rachel ask, “Where on earth is he going, Cor?”
He raced down the stairs and threw open the front door. One footman opened the coach door as another set down the steps for the party to descend from the carriage. Jeremy took a deep breath, hoping to calm himself.
Morefield climbed out first and nodded to him before assisting his wife. A petite blond followed. Her green eyes immediately found him and she grinned unabashedly. She had to be Leah Crawford. Jeremy nodded politely and stepped forward, easing the footman out of the way so he could accept the hand Catherine held out. When his fingers closed around hers, serenity filled him. Their eyes met and she gave him a radiant smile.
He handed her down, refusing to release her hand. They drank in one another.
“I quite like him, Catherine.”
Jeremy turned. “I like you, too, Lady Leah.” He tucked Catherine’s hand into the crook of his arm and offered the other to her sister. “May I escort you inside?”
Leah took it. “Thank you, Your Grace.” She glanced at Morefield. “Were you as batty over Charlotte as Everton is over Catherine?”
Morefield laughed as he took his wife’s arm. “Probably so.”
Leah sighed. “I hope when I have my come-out that I will find a gentleman who adores me in exactly the same way.”
Jeremy said, “You and Rachel will make your come-out together. The two of you will take London by storm in a couple of years.”
“Then by all means, let me meet your sister so we can begin strategizing how to conquer the ton.”
He looked up and saw that Rachel had come out from the house, as well. She now tugged Leah away from him.
“I’m Rachel St. Clair. Jeremy has told me we’ll be fast friends. I rather like the idea of plotting how to navigate the ton. Come meet Cor.”
The two girls hurried inside and the couples followed them. Cor awaited them in the drawing room.
“I’ve rung for tea,” she said. “Come see me, Lady Catherine.”
Catherine went and greeted Cor. Jeremy watched as Cor kissed his fiancée’s cheek. He’d never seen her show any type of affection toward Mary.
“And you must be Lady Leah.”
Leah went to the dowager duchess and curtseyed. “I am. Why are you called Cor? I find that name most unusual.”
The old woman laughed. “My, you are as inquisitive as Rachel. Sit, everyone.”
Once they all had settled in, the tea cart arrived. After everyone had a cup of tea and plates filled with sandwiches and sweets, Cor said, “It’s a very simple story, Lady Leah.”
“I’ve never heard any grandmammas called that,” Leah said.
“My given name is Cordelia,” she explained. “My brother, who was older by three years, couldn’t get out that mouthful. He only managed to say Cor. As I grew up, everyone in my family called me by that name. Why, I believe I was six—no, seven—before I actually learned my Christian name was Cordelia. I decided that sounded much too pretentious. All of my friends also called me Cor. Though my children called me “Mama”, Jeremy here is the one who started calling me Cor.”
He took up the story. “I don’t remember how old I was. I think at some point Cor tried to teach me to say Grandmamma.”
“Jeremy ran before he walked,” Cor said. “He was always in motion. It took him forever to speak. I think calling me Grandmamma was too much for him to bother with since he was always in a hurry. He toddled in once when I was entertaining friends, having escaped his nanny. One of them called me Cor and told me how delightful he was. His little face lit up and he ran toward me, his arms spread wide, shouting Cor.”
“Luke and Rachel followed suit,” he said. “She will always be Cor to us all.”
They spent a pleasant hour conversing. He’d deliberately led Catherine to a small settee and seated himself beside her, his thigh and hip wedged against her. He liked how easily she laughed and how well she and Leah fit in. Soon, Rachel and Leah left to tour the house. They already seemed as thick as thieves.
As Morefield entertained Cor with some outrageous story, Jeremy turned to Catherine. “Would you care to go up to the nursery?”
His heart beat fast, wondering what her answer would be. Last night, she’d offended him with her remarks about not wishing to mother another woman’s child. That was before their kiss. He knew he’d won her over with it, but she still might have reservations about Jenny. If they were truly to have a marriage, she must be accepting of his daughter.
He need not have worried. Her face lit up. “I would very much enjoy meeting your daughter.”
“If you’ll excuse us, we’re going to the nursery,” he informed the others.
For a moment, it looked as if Charlotte would ask to join them. He frowned at her and she sat back.
