A Hint of Seduction (28 page)

L
ATER THAT NIGHT
,
John left Lord Baxley’s party and drove his phaeton over to White’s. He wanted to sit in a dark corner and have a drink. Mrs. Goosetree had been her usual authoritarian self and had not let him have more than a few moments alone with Catherine before she whisked her away to another party with the parting statement that John had spent the entire afternoon with Catherine and if he wasn’t ready to state his intentions concerning her sister, she had other young men to consider.

The lady was a tyrant. He had managed to tell Catherine that he’d spoken with his uncle and would be in touch with her later about his findings. Bentley had given him a valuable piece of information. John intended to study the diary and the possibilities that either Mr. Beechman or his son might be Catherine’s real father.

Perhaps he would hire a Runner to find out more about
the son’s death. A Runner would be able to look at old documents, newspapers, and ask questions without involving John, his uncle, or Catherine. He wanted to get this settled for Catherine as soon as possible.

And all of that was important, but mostly tonight John just wanted to spend some time thinking about Catherine and the breathtaking way she made him feel inside, the way she stayed constantly on his mind, his agitation when he saw her dance with other men, and the way he felt as if she belonged to him.

John walked into White’s and handed his hat, gloves, and cape to a servant and headed for the taproom. He expected to find the place almost deserted at this time of the evening, as most men would still be at one of the multitude of parties scheduled for the night.

Lamps were lit but turned low in the room John knew as well as he knew the back of his hand. Tinkling of glass and rumbled chatter came from the few men who were scattered about the taproom. From a doorway he heard laughter and the sound of billiard balls smacking together. The smells of liquor and beeswax lay heavy on the air.

John signaled for the waiter to bring him the usual and was about to take a seat at an empty table when he noticed Andrew sitting by himself on the opposite side of the room staring into his glass.

Something was wrong. Andrew wasn’t one to drink alone and never one to look forlorn.

John walked over to him and without bothering to ask for permission, he pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.

Andrew looked up and squinted at him with sleepy, bloodshot eyes. “Why don’t you join me?” he said, even though John was already seated.

He immediately knew that his friend had had too much to drink for so early in the evening.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted any company. It appears you’re having a rather good time by yourself.”

He held up his glass in salute to John. “I am. It must have been my laughter that brought you over here.”

And cynical, too? What was going on with him?

“Want to tell an old friend why you would be having such a jolly good time by yourself?”

“Are we?” His skeptical eyes belied his simple question.

John made allowances for Andrew’s mood and tried not to read anything into his friend’s words. “What do you mean by ‘are we’?”

“We’re old friends to be sure, but are we still good friends?”

It was unlike Andrew to be this way. He overindulged in the bottle once in a while. They all did from time to time, but Andrew was never maudlin.

“What kind of question is that to ask? Of course we are.”

“Well, I haven’t seen you since our
discussion
about Miss Reynolds in your uncle’s library.”

John should have known this had something to do with Catherine. And now that Andrew mentioned it, he hadn’t seen him since their squabble in Bentley’s office. They each had their say, and as far as John was concerned it was over. He hadn’t given their brash encounter another thought, but apparently it was eating at Andrew.

Had Andrew taken an instant dislike to her or did he in some way feel threatened by her? John didn’t like either possibility.

Andrew would just have to get used to Catherine being around because John had no intentions of giving her up.

“That would be your fault as much as mine, ole chap.”

Andrew drank from his glass again. “I’ve been at White’s the past two nights and haven’t seen you.”

I’m more interested in Catherine than White’s attractions. She is the draw for me now. Not drink, cards, and friends.

“Really? I’ve been at several parties and haven’t seen you at any of them.”

“Touché,” he said and again he saluted John with his glass. “Perhaps we’ve been hiding from each other.”

Were they? No. They’d been friends too long to let a lady come between them. John’s stomach tightened. He didn’t like the thought that there might be some kind of tension between Andrew and Catherine, or Andrew and himself.

The servant placed a glass of port in front of John, but suddenly he didn’t feel like drinking. He sat back in his chair when he realized the turn his thoughts had taken. Catherine had become a part of his life. And he wanted it that way. She was the first lady he had ever pursued that he wasn’t willing to give up.

Andrew knew that. He’d seen it coming.

“I have no reason to hide from you and you have no reason to avoid me. We settled our discussion about Catherine, remember?”

Andrew half laughed and poured more wine into his glass. “And she’s now
Catherine
is she? What a charming name.”

He didn’t miss a thing.

“We know each other well enough to be on first names with each other.”

Andrew hooded his eyes with his lashes as he looked at John and asked, “Did Miss Reynolds tell you I had a conversation with her a couple of nights ago?”

“Yes, she mentioned that she’d met you. Why do you ask?”

Andrew sat up straighter in his chair and coughed. “No reason really. I just wondered if she told you we’d actually spoken.”

“I assume Catherine considered you an acceptable gentleman. She has no fear of speaking her mind, and if you had behaved badly I’m sure she would have told me.”

“I’m sure you’re right about both those things,” he said. “She’s no wilting daisy. In fact, she’s quite admirable.”

Her self-confidence was one of the things that impressed him. She played by Society’s rules and allowed Mrs. Goosetree a certain amount of authority over her, but she was not afraid to bend the rules when she considered it necessary.

“Well, Dunraven left the two of us last year, and it appears that you will be leaving me this year.”

“No,” John said and picked up his glass of port and took a drink. It was strong but almost sweet. Suddenly he was reminded of when he’d tasted the flavor on Catherine’s lips. There weren’t too many things recently that didn’t remind him in some way of Catherine.

Andrew’s cloudy eyes zeroed in on John’s. “I’m right and I’m glad for you.”

“That’s your wine talking, Andrew, and it is nonsense. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” John said, but knew he had no real conviction in his voice.

Andrew knew it, too.

“I saw a possessive look in Dunraven’s eyes whenever he talked about Millicent, and now I see it in your eyes when you talk about Catherine.”

It shows?

“I’m attracted to her. I’m not planning to marry her,” John said and felt damned uncomfortable after the words
left his mouth. He really didn’t know what the hell he was feeling for Catherine.

“Oh, yes, you are. You’re caught. You might as well admit it.”

What was Andrew saying? Chandler Dunraven had actually fallen in love with Millicent and married her. John didn’t love Catherine. He had no plans to marry her.

Did he?

No. He wanted her. She intrigued him. She enchanted him. Yes, he’d wanted to lay her in the carriage and make love to her, but love her? Wed her?

Whatever there was that made her special and different from all the other women he’d wanted over the years would pass soon. He was sure of it. It had to. John loved all women. He couldn’t love just one. He couldn’t.

“You’re sloshed deeper than a frog in the Thames,” John finally said. He reached over and took the bottle of wine that sat in front of Andrew and dragged it over by his own glass. “I can’t make sense of anything a drunken man says.”

“I might be well into my cups, dear friend, but you are lying to me and quite possibly yourself, too.” He pointed a finger at John. “It’s all right with me that you aren’t ready to admit that; however, it doesn’t change the fact I saw it in your eyes the first time you talked about her. It was different from the way you’ve talked about any other young lady.”

A rumbling laugh passed John’s lips. Andrew was right about one thing. Catherine had his attention like no other lady ever had. John couldn’t hide anything from his old friend, but he didn’t want to talk to him about Catherine. It was time to change the subject.

“Why are you in here drinking, Andrew? And don’t try to make me think it has anything to do with me or Catherine. I’m not falling for that.”

Andrew chuckled affectionately as he stared into his glass again. “You’re right. It doesn’t. You know me as well as I know you. What a hell of a pair we are.”

“That’s not going to change,” he said, wanting to reassure his friend.

“I know.”

“So tell me what’s going on.”

“I’ve just come to a very big decision in my life today, and I decided to celebrate the occasion.”

“A celebration without me? That’s a damned bloody thing to do. What’s happened?”

“I’m going to be leaving London soon.”

It was easy to see Andrew was serious about this.

John tensed. “What? Leaving? Where are you going and why?”

Andrew took another drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before looking at John. “I’m not sure exactly how many places I will go or how long I’ll be away. My main purpose is to visit all my estates first and then have a little chat with my manager.”

“I don’t think you’ve done either of those things since I’ve known you.”

“I know and unfortunately it has not been a good thing for my finances. I’ve always had too much going on here in London to worry about the stability of my lands and holdings. As long as I had all the money I needed, I never worried about financial matters. But the time has come that I must take my responsibilities seriously and give them attention.”

“That’s a good thing.”

Andrew’s expression turned serious. “I’m in debt, John, and I barely have enough money coming in to cover my wagers.”

It was no surprise to hear this, but it was to have Andrew finally admit it. There had been talk for over two years now that Andrew’s finances were in peril.

“If you need a loan to cover—”

“John, no—I just need to find out why my income has steadily gone down the past few years. I should have taken the time to look into this the first year it happened, but the draw of London and my life here has always been too great. I didn’t want any responsibilities. But now it’s time.”

“I can understand that.”

“My manager kept promising me it would be better the next year and my solicitor was agreeing with him, but my finances have come to the point where I can no longer trust either of them. I have to go and see for myself what is going on.”

“You know I’ll help you if you need me.”

His eyes brightened. “You could come with me. We could make it an adventure. We’ll stop at every tavern we pass and bed the wenches.”

The image of a big-bosomed tavern wench flashed across his mind and John cringed. Just as quickly Catherine’s beautiful breasts came to his mind and a satisfying feeling of contentment washed over him.

Leave Catherine?

“No, I can’t. It’s not a good time for me.”

Andrew shrugged. “So I thought. If you are going to marry Miss Reynolds, it better be soon if you want me to be at the nuptials.”

“There will be no marriage,” John quickly denied and
immediately wondered why he did. And was that guilt he felt for saying it?

“Damnation, Andrew, I’m attracted to her and I don’t understand it. I think about her all the time. I enjoy being with her. I’m eager to be with her. I don’t want her to dance with anyone but me, but marriage?” John shook his head.

“Yes, John, marriage. I think those are the things men usually feel when they find the lady they want to marry.”

“That thought scares the hell out of me. I don’t think that’s something I want—”

“Mind if we join you?”

John looked up to see Wilkins and Phillips standing beside them.

“Not at all,” he said.

In fact he was happy to have someone interrupt this intimate talk with Andrew about Catherine, but he wasn’t happy to see Wilkins throw the latest column from Lord Truefitt on the table in front of him.

“Have you seen this?” Wilkins asked, pulling up a chair on one end of the table while Phillips took the chair on the opposite side.

“Probably all of London has seen it by now,” John mumbled under his breath.