A Little Knowledge (42 page)

“Her Grace has returned home somewhat later than anticipated, your Grace,” he said. “I understand that she is to dress for the wedding immediately.” After the briefest pause, he added, “Her Grace conveys her apologies that she has not had the opportunity to greet you in person.”

Will smirked at Morgan’s attempt to cover Cathy’s flustered arrival. “Thank you, Morgan. Is the carriage ready?”

“Yes, your Grace. It’s been fully repaired and is waiting outside.”

Will chose a pair of cufflinks set with lapis lazuli with golden fleur-de-lis at their centre. He waited as his valet attached them for him and then helped him into his frock coat before giving it one final brush down. Inspecting himself in the mirror, Will was satisfied that his clothing and hair were perfect. His close shave followed by a hot towel had left his skin radiant and he’d slept better that night, thankfully, so there was no need to disguise any dark circles under his eyes. He nodded with satisfaction to his valet and dismissed him.

He went to the chest of drawers and opened the long velvet box that rested upon it. The choker that Tate had fashioned was exquisite. There were dozens of tiny diamonds strung on filigree strands that were barely visible, each with a delicate setting that hardly weighed them down. The sapphire at the centre was set into a band of silver made of dozens of the strands woven together, no wider than one of Sophia’s little fingers, framing the gem and running the length of the choker. It was backed with something as soft as moleskin, with an adjustable clasp, strong enough to support the weight of the gem and hold enough structure for the diamonds to remain light around it, giving the impression of tiny stars. Tate had shown him how the gem would be in contact with Cathy’s skin as she’d formed the threads around the back of it. It was a striking design, more modern than many ladies in the Nether would ever wear, but he had the feeling it would appeal to Cathy for that very reason.

He ran his fingers over it. It was the right thing to do. He’d shown it to Cathy’s lady’s maid, telling her to choose a dress to go well with it for the wedding. “Oh, her Grace is so lucky,” she’d sighed, but she wasn’t looking at the choker as she said it.

She’d been delighted to plot the happy scheme with him, thinking she was facilitating a romantic gesture between a couple in love. As promised, she sent another maid to tell him that the time was right.

He went to Cathy’s dressing room, pausing to listen to her talking to her maid about Elizabeth’s ridiculous demands and laughing about what her mother had said in response to one of them. She sounded happier than he expected, considering she wasn’t one for family gatherings—or marriages, for that matter.

He closed his eyes, remembering the way the men of the Court had looked at him as she’d spoke. He recalled the sour faces at Black’s, the reluctant bows, the way practically every man of the city had come to express his “private concerns” about the Duchess to him. The way Sir Iris had roasted him in his study, the threat of the Parisian Court. No more. He couldn’t let Cathy put them at risk again.

It was the right thing to do.

He knocked once and entered, making Cathy yelp and grab her dressing gown too late to cover her corset and the stocking tops he could glimpse through the fine silk of her chemise. Her hair was pinned up in the Regency style he liked on her—as he’d instructed her maid to suggest—her face framed by gentle curls and, more importantly, her neck bare. Her skin was still flushed from the bath and the fragrance of her bathing oil filled the air.

“Will!” she laughed, blushing. “I’m not dressed!”

He nodded to the maid who scurried away as Cathy frantically tried to put on the dressing gown when half of it was turned inside out. “I’ve seen you in greater states of undress, my love,” he said, watching the flush spread down her throat as she glanced at him.

“Shoo! I have to get ready; we’re leaving in ten minutes and I haven’t even got my dress on.”

“Stockings and suspenders? How very modern of you.”

He grinned at the deepening blush. “Those stupid bloomers and garters do my head in. These are for convenience, not for you!”

He went to stand behind her, seeing himself reflected in the glass she stood in front of. Holding the box behind his back, he kissed the nape of her neck and gently pulled the dressing gown from her hands, letting it drop on the floor beside them. Peeping over her shoulder to look at her eyes via the reflection in the mirror, he ran a fingertip over her shoulder, down over the swell of her breast to finger the edge of her chemise peeping out from under the top of the corset. “I’d like to unlace this,” he murmured, kissing her again.

He listened to her breath catch in her throat and saw how her eyes darkened in the mirror as her lips reddened. “I…Will, I have to dress.”

“I missed you, my love,” he said against her skin, tickling it with his breath, as his hand moved up from the lace, brushing the top of her breast again to skim the base of her throat.

“I’m sorry I had to go. Mother needed me, and I don’t know if I’ll see her again after today.”

He paused, looking at her reflection again. “Are your parents planning to travel once Elizabeth is married?”

She shook her head, biting her lip, twisting her head slightly to brush her cheek against his hair. “If I tell you, you mustn’t tell another soul, Will.”

“Of course, darling.” Another kiss, another swell of her chest. He was tempted to have her there, against the dressing table, and be late for the wedding.

“Mother is leaving my father. That’s why she wanted to marry Elizabeth off so quickly. She couldn’t wait any longer to be with her lover.”

Will pressed his lips against her shoulder, wondering who that could be. “You aren’t going to warn your father?”

She looked horrified. “No, Will! And you must swear to me that you won’t say a word to anyone at the wedding. I shouldn’t have told you.”

He smiled at her in the mirror, skimming over her skin with his lips, back to the nape of her neck. “I promise. You’re so soft.”

“Will,” she breathed, clasping her hands together after starting to reach back, as if she were trying to stop herself from touching him. “Stop it; I have to get ready, not…”

“I have a gift for you,” he said, sliding his hand away from her chest slowly, enjoying the way she responded to his touch.

“Can’t it wait until Elizabeth is married?”

“No,” he said, bringing the box round with his right hand, circling her with his left to open it in front of her from the centre of a loose embrace. “I hope you like it.”

He watched her eyes widen, her mouth open. “Oh! Will, it’s beautiful. Too fancy for me, surely.”

“Nonsense,” he said, easing it from the strips of velvet that held it in place. “I commissioned it especially for you. I thought you might like something more…modern than most.”

Cathy smiled at him. “It isn’t my birthday or anything.”

“I don’t need a reason or anything,” he mimicked her tone, tossing the box aside and holding it up in front of her so she could see it glitter beneath the sprite light. “You’re my wife. I love you. I wanted to give you something special to wear to your sister’s wedding. I’m just glad I commissioned it as soon as she came to stay!” He kissed the back of her neck again, ran his lips around to her other shoulder. “Will you let me put it on you? I confess I asked your maid to pick out a dress to go with it. I’d love to see you wear it today.”

“It isn’t more for a ball or dance or…?”

“No, it can be worn in the day.” He forced himself to be patient, running a line of kisses up to her neck again, peeping over her shoulder to lock eyes with hers in the reflection. “I’d much rather see you wearing this and nothing else. But if we must go to this wedding, I suppose I will have to live with you wearing the dress with it. Until we get back.”

She looked back at him, hungry, her hands pulled apart by her lust to reach back and hold his hips against her. “I’ll wear it—with the dress—but put it on before I make us late.”

With a smile that she reflected back to him in the glass, he pressed the sapphire against her throat, wrapped the band around her neck, and fastened it shut.

He felt her shudder, as if she were cold, and a slight frown replaced her smile. She looked distant for a moment, lost even, and he spun her around and kissed her deeply, coaxing her attention back to him. He held her close, feeling her respond more passionately. It seemed that breaking Poppy’s wish magic also meant that nothing else was acting against the Charm working on her now.

Will ran his hands down her back, his fingertips brushing the lacing of the corset until he felt the swell of her buttocks and the silk covering them. He had just got the slippery fabric pinched between finger and thumb to pull the chemise up when there was a knock at the door.

“Not now,” he growled.

“Your Grace,” came the voice of the lady’s maid. “You’ll be late if I don’t dress you now.”

Will loved the way Cathy was pushing him back towards one of the wardrobes in her passion. “Hang the wedding,” he said.

“The wedding!” she gasped. “No, Will, we can’t be late.” She moved away, putting her hands on his chest and holding him at arm’s length. “Wait downstairs, for God’s sake.”

“Do you like my gift?”

She reached up to trace it with her fingertips. “I love it. And I love you. And I want to tear those very fine clothes off you, so go downstairs before you end up being just as undressed as I am!”

He laughed. “Only if you promise to come home afterwards and spend the night with me.”

“Fine, fine, I promise, now shoo!”

He left her to dress and waited for her in the carriage, unable to stop smiling with relief. He would make sure he distracted her just enough through the day to keep her mind on him and nothing else, then they would come home and he would make love to her and…he sighed. It was all going to be fine. He’d tell her about his plans for the Agency afterwards, when it was all done and he could properly relax. Besides, he didn’t want to raise any topics that might remind her of anything other than him.

He smiled as she burst from the house, the sapphire of the choker matching the trim of her gown and her opera gloves perfectly. She paused at the bottom of the steps, spun around, and headed back up them, only to meet her maid rushing out of the house to press a reticule into her hand. Cathy dashed down the steps, allowed the footman to help into the carriage, and sat opposite him, panting.

“You nearly made us late,” she said.

“That was you,” he said, leaning across to take her hands. “How could I help but kiss you when you were standing there, all soft and sweet-scented in your underclothes.”

“Stop it,” she whispered, beaming at him.

“Carter’s on the back, he can’t hear us. Now,” he moved across the gap to sit next to her, “let’s see if I can find a way to keep us occupied until we reach the Oak…”

• • •

As weddings went, it was by far the most enjoyable Cathy had ever attended. Considering she’d only been to three in her entire life—one when she was a child and too young to really understand what was happening and the other her own—it wasn’t much of an achievement. She’d expected it to be far worse, especially when they arrived to a rather tearful Elizabeth, who was upset that Lord Poppy hadn’t turned up.

“He came for your wedding!” she pouted at Cathy as she went over. “Why not mine?”

Cathy shrugged. “He probably knows you’re willing. He doesn’t have to make sure it happens.”

She hadn’t meant it to be a comfort, but somehow it brightened her sister. “Yes, that must be it. I wish he was here to see me at my best, though.”

“Count yourself lucky,” Cathy said, and Elizabeth scowled at her.

“Oh stop that!”

“What?”

“That thing you do, that…dismissing everything I think is important and making me feel silly for wanting things.”

Cathy met Will’s eyes across the distance between them, her mind only partially on Elizabeth. He was waiting at a discreet distance with Tom, ready to accompany the party up the aisle at the appropriate time. “It’s not my fault you always want silly things.”

“You’re doing it again! On my wedding day, and I tried so hard to be nice to you on yours! You ended up being Duchess and you even ended up being our patron’s favourite, even after the despicable things you did! And you don’t even try! It’s so unfair!”

“What’s all this noise about?” their father said, coming over from greeting other guests. “Catherine, are you upsetting your sister on today of all days?”

“I hardly have to try,” Cathy said with a shrug. “I think she’s allergic to me.” But her sister’s words had penetrated, no matter how much she tried to hide the fact. She’d always dismissed Elizabeth for being the very epitome of what Society wanted from their young ladies, without even considering any effort her sister might have put into it. Seeing her life through Elizabeth’s eyes was a revelation. And all this time she’d been raging against so much, when really, she was blessed.

She was drawn back to Will again. He was saying something to Tom that made her brother laugh. Elizabeth was right. With no effort at all she was married to one of the most handsome men in Albion, a man who beyond all expectations loved her too. How he could find something lovable in her, plain and difficult as she was, was a miracle.

Cathy felt tired, yet happy. It had been such a wildly emotional time of late. She’d lost two of her friends and closest allies, was soon to lose her mother—though that was for a happier reason—and she was still desperately worried about Charlotte. But the tension beneath it all, the constant sense of not doing enough, of not changing anything, had eased. She was simply withdrawing and reconsidering, as Natasha had said, taking a moment to breathe in all the madness. Eventually Margritte and Natasha would return and they would resume their efforts. There was no need to rush. She would work something out, some way forward that would keep Will smiling at her that way. It was so blissful when they didn’t fight.

Will glanced over at her, gave the smile he reserved just for her, and she simply melted. Cathy smiled back, planning to have one drink at the reception, just to be seen, before racing back home with him in the carriage. She had to have him. Even though there was the tiniest hint of worry at the back of her mind that she shouldn’t, Cathy couldn’t for the life of her remember why she had worried about being intimate with him. Something about…