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Authors: Amanda McCabe

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Somewhere with him? Did he truly care about Alicia? She had seen how they greeted each other at that house....

No.
She shook her head. She had no right to be jealous any longer, no matter who he cared about or what he did. She had to put all that aside, to forget everything that had happened. At least for now. One day he would have to tell her what happened in Spain.

‘I want to help you,’ she said quietly. ‘I know we can find Webster if we work together.’

‘Catalina, no,’ Jamie protested. ‘The man is clearly mad. I won’t put you in danger.’

‘I would be in no danger, not with you,’ Catalina argued. ‘Webster did terrible things, both in Spain and here. I want to see him stopped, just as you do. I know I can help.’

‘We can talk about all this later,’ Jamie said, and Catalina recognised the stubborn set of his jaw. He would not argue with her, yet he would stand very firm.

But she was as stubborn as him. ‘Yes, we will assuredly talk about it later,’ she insisted.

A rueful smile touched his lips. ‘It’s late now, Catalina. You should rest a little longer. The rain will surely stop soon.’

Catalina nodded, suddenly realising that she was indeed very weary. So much had happened, her mind was spinning with it. ‘Only for a little while. We must be back at Castonbury before it grows too late.’

‘I will keep watch,’ he said, and she knew he would keep his word. She lay back down on her side facing the fire and let its warmth and heat wrap around her.

As sleep closed in on her mind, she felt Jamie tuck the blankets over her and she smiled. For the first time in a very, very long while, she felt safe....

* * *

Catalina’s slender body was relaxed and warm in the circle of his arms, her hair falling like a skein of dark satin across his chest. He ran his palm gently over her hair, along the curve of her back. She shivered against him in her sleep and he drew her closer.

They were as close as a man and woman could possibly be, their bodies wrapped around each other after the heated rush of sex, yet it seemed like she was still a thousand miles away from him. His Catalina—more elusive than ever. He had almost thought he was drawing her close to him again, that they were almost as they had been in Spain—able to read each other without even speaking. Then she had pulled away from him again.

Ever since he had first glimpsed Catalina across that camp in Spain, she had intrigued him, drawn him in with just one glance from her dark eyes. Talking with her had only made him want to know more and more, craved her presence, within the spell she wove with her smile and her touch.

And his memories of their lovemaking, memories he had treasured on so many lonely nights, were as nothing compared to the reality of tonight. The reality of being with her, touching her, feeling her against him. Never had he felt as he had this afternoon, when his body had joined with Catalina’s, and he had opened his eyes to see that she really was there beneath him, her head arched back, her lips parted. That reality was beyond pleasure, beyond merely satisfying his body’s cravings. Beyond just the two of them, Jamie and Catalina, at that moment.

He had thought his heart would burst with the joy, the triumph of holding her again.

Now, with the cold night closing around them and her sleeping next to him, he could see that she was still not his. She said she could not truly be his wife. She pushed him away and he didn’t know why. His family wanted him to marry but his Catalina had come back to him. No matter what she said, he couldn’t be free of her nor she of him. They were married. The only thing that made any practical sense was to acknowledge that and learn to make a new life together.

Catalina murmured in her sleep and he closed his arms around her. He had to make her see sense, that was all. Yet he could tell she had lost none of her Spanish stubborn spirit, that in fact it had grown over the years. She was determined to do what was right as she saw it, but then so was he.

He owed Catalina for all she had suffered in the years since they parted. He had to make it up to her somehow, to make sure she was cared for. He only needed a plan to make her see that, to make her let him help her. His proud Spanish lady.

Jamie tightened his arms around her and he breathed in the sweet scent of her hair. For just a moment he let himself feel the exultation of being here with Catalina again, his beautiful, lost Catalina, and forget everything else. Holding her there in his arms, he let himself find the first restful sleep he had known in years.

* * *

Catalina slowly drifted up from the haze of dreams. She couldn’t remember what her visions were while she slept, but she somehow knew they were sweet because she felt peaceful and content as she hadn’t in so very long. Smiling, she stretched out beneath the rough wool blanket—and then she felt a large, warm hand at her waist.

And she remembered
everything
. Jamie and their lovemaking. How strong and sweet and perfect it had been, just like in her memories. She rolled onto her side and studied his face in the dying light of the fire.

His dark hair was rumpled over his forehead, and asleep he looked so much younger. The sharpness of his features was relaxed, his wariness and watchfulness gone for the moment. Catalina felt as if she was seeing him as he must have been long ago, before the horrors of Spain and the burdens of his family had descended on him.

Before he married her.

Filled with the longing to give him back that lost peace, that idyll, Catalina leaned towards him and softly pressed her lips to his. Jamie moaned as he woke up to her kiss, and she felt his hand gently caress her cheek, the loose fall of her hair. She drew back to look deeply into his eyes, those beautiful grey eyes, and let herself have this too-short, eternal moment with him.

‘Catalina,’ he whispered, and claimed her lips again in a fierce, desperate kiss.

She needed him so much, and in that kiss she could tell he needed her too. Through the blurry haze of desire, she felt his hands close around her hips and he shifted their bodies so that she lay on top of him. His tongue traced the curve of her lower lip, softly, teasingly, before he slid inside.

Catalina moaned at the taste of him, so familiar and yet so strange at the same time. His kiss trailed away from her lips, over her cheek and along the curve of her throat. Jamie touched the tip of his tongue to her bare shoulder and then blew on it lightly until she shivered. That wild, yearning feeling inside of her expanded until she thought she might burst with it all.
He
did that, only Jamie.

He traced the edge of his teeth gently along her shoulder, making her shiver again, before he pressed an open-mouthed kiss on the soft spot where her shoulder met her neck. He drew the blanket away from her body and his hand traced the edge of her waist and her abdomen, lower and lower, sliding aside the cloth until she was bare to him.

Catalina tilted back her head and stared up at his face, chiselled and half shadowed in the firelight. His grey eyes glittered in the darkness, and his lips curved in a smile that made her smile too.
This
was her Jamie, the man she had married. The man she had missed.

She traced a light touch slowly up his chest and felt the strong, hard heat of him. He was so very alive under her caress, so wondrous. And he made her feel as if she was coming back to life too, after she had felt so cold and numb for so long. And she was intoxicated with that feeling, with being with him again at last.

She felt his stomach muscles tighten as her hand slid lower and lower. The tips of her fingers brushed his erection and she felt him harden even more.

‘Catalina...’ he said tightly, but he didn’t move under her touch. He just watched her closely with those jewel-like eyes.

Catalina smiled, and slid her palms up over his chest and touched every inch of him. Full of wonder, she traced a soft caress over his strong shoulders, down his corded arms, her fingertips fluttering over his chest. He seemed thinner than he had been in Spain, leaner, harder, but she was still fascinated by every inch of him, by being close to him.

Yet even as she let herself fall deep into that swirling pool of desire for him, she knew how dangerous it could all be. She couldn’t afford to forget how much lay between them now, a gulf of years and memories. But for this one moment, surrounded by the rain and the firelight, she could forget—with Jamie.

She closed her eyes and arched closer to him. Every breath she took, full of the scent of him, seemed to draw him to her even more. She pressed her parted lips to his bare chest, and tasted the warm, damp salt of his skin. She could feel his heartbeat against her, fast and frantic, echoing her own. She let the tip of her tongue swirl around his flat nipple.

Jamie let her explore, let her feel her freedom. She curled her arms around him and traced her touch down his spine to pull him closer to her. Her hands moved down, down, slowly, teasingly, until her fingers curled over his hard buttocks.

And then his control shattered. ‘Catalina,’ he groaned, and his hands closed around her waist. Catalina laughed and wrapped her legs around his hips. He kissed her, so hard and hot, so full of raw, burning need. She arched her hips up tight into his and the blurry haze of sexual need closed around them, and she held on to him as she fell down into it.

What was it about
this
man that made her feel that way? She didn’t know, and at the moment she didn’t care.

‘Catalina.’ His mouth slid from hers to kiss her jaw, her shoulder, to linger on that sensitive spot on her neck. When she sighed and let her head fall back to the blankets, he reached up to touch her soft, aching nipple.

‘Catalina, you are so beautiful,’ he whispered. He traced the tip of his tongue along the soft underside of her breast, teasing her.

Catalina reached up to tangle her fingers in the rough silk of his hair and held him against her. Finally, as she murmured wordless entreaties, he gave her what she longed for and took her nipple deep into his mouth. As his tongue swirled around it, his fingers caressed her other breast, gently, expertly. He rolled and stroked the nipple until she cried out his name.

His mouth traced a ribbon of kisses on the soft skin between her breasts, and Catalina reached out blindly between their bodies to unfasten the front of his trousers. He sprang into her hand, hard, hot, the veins throbbing under her touch, and she felt a surge of triumph that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. In this, as always, they were together.

She ran a slow, caressing touch up the full length of him, then pressed closer as he moaned. His finger lightly traced her womanhood before sliding deep inside of her. The rough friction of his touch against the soft wetness made her cry out. Her back arched up from the blankets and her eyes closed as the feelings washed over her.

His thumb rubbed hard against that tiny, hidden spot up high inside her, and it felt as if white-hot sparks raced through her.

‘Catalina,’ he whispered against her neck as he kissed her there again and again. ‘Tell me you want me. Tell me you missed me as I missed you.’

For an instant she thought there was a strange, yearning note in his deep voice, but when she opened her eyes to look up at him his face was drawn taut into inscrutable, unreadable lines.

‘I want you,’ she said simply.

Jamie nodded, and his hand slid down to press her legs open to him. And with a twist of his hips, he thrust deeply into her.

Catalina gasped at the sensation of being joined with him again. Her legs closed tighter around him and she fell down and down into the pleasure. She held on to him as he drew back and lunged forward again and again, deeper, harder. The scent and burning heat of him surrounded her and she moved with him, seeking her own pleasure. Their bodies and their breath were like one in that single perfect moment.

The sparkling, tingling pressure built and built deep inside of her, growing and expanding like the night sky until it exploded.

‘Jamie,
mi corazón
!’ she cried, holding on to him as if he was the only thing left in a drowning world.

He threw his head back, his whole body taut above her as he came. ‘Catalina,’ he shouted, and then slowly collapsed beside her on the blankets, his shoulders shaking. His breath seemed harsh in the sudden silence, and Catalina feared she couldn’t catch her own. She closed her eyes to try to hold on to that moment as long as she could.

‘Catalina,’ he whispered, and she felt him move to rest his head on her midriff, just below her bare breasts. His hair brushed softly against her skin, and she reached down to thread her fingers through it.

A strange kind of peace flowed through Catalina as she lay there wrapped in Jamie’s arms, and at first she didn’t know what that feeling was. She hadn’t known such an instant of warmth and perfect contentment in a long time, as if that was exactly where she was meant to be. She felt Jamie press a soft kiss against her skin and she smiled.

Soon, much too soon, this rainy afternoon would be over and she would have to face the truth of the past and of their situation now. But right now she was with him as she had never thought to be again, and it was precious.

Chapter Fourteen

‘D
o stand still for a moment, Lydia, or your hem will be uneven,’ Catalina said, but she couldn’t help but laugh. Lydia’s enthusiasm was infectious, and she made even the greyish day outside seem brighter.

As did memories of two nights ago, when she had slept for a time in Jamie’s arms. She knew it had been a mistake, that she should forget about it now, but still she smiled at the wondrous feelings that lingered. The magic between her and Jamie was still there, no matter what. That gave her something to secretly remember and cherish.

‘I am trying to be still, Mrs Moreno, truly,’ Lydia said as Catalina put the final stitches in the hem of her costume. ‘I am just very excited about the play tonight! What if I forget my lines?’

‘You won’t. Haven’t you been practising all day?’

‘I just want it all to be perfect.’ Lydia bit her lip. ‘Do you think Mr Hale will be there?’

Catalina heard the note of hope and fear in Lydia’s voice, the note that said
this
was really what she had been fidgeting about. Seeing the handsome curate again. She sat back on her heels and looked up at Lydia. The girl’s cheeks turned pink and she looked away to fuss with her costume skirt.

Oh, dear
,
Catalina thought. Her charge was infatuated with Mr Hale. He seemed a very respectable young man, and she had seen at the Assembly Rooms that he admired Lydia as well. But Lydia’s guardian seemed to have his own hopes that she would marry the duke. It had always been an unlikely prospect with Jamie, but the step down from a duke to a curate didn’t seem like one her family would likely countenance.

And Catalina couldn’t bear to see the sweet girl hurt.

‘There will be many people there, I’m sure,’ Catalina said carefully. ‘They are all sure to admire your performance. But don’t forget the wedding will be over in a few days and we’ll be going back to London.’

And she would not see Jamie again. A spasm of pain rippled over Catalina at the thought, but she pushed it away to keep her smile cool and unwavering. She stood up and busied herself gathering up the thread and pins.

‘Oh, yes,’ Lydia said quietly. ‘I had almost forgot we will have to leave.’

‘You are enjoying yourself here at Castonbury?’

‘So very much! I was silly to be so nervous about coming here. I love the country so much more than Town. Everyone is so kind, no one stares or laughs....’

Catalina glanced over to see that Lydia was staring out of the window. A stage was being erected in the gardens for that evening’s theatricals and garden party, and Mr Hale had just joined the men who were working on its construction. The handsome young man was laughing, and Lydia looked so full of wistful longing as she watched him.

‘Lydia, my dear,’ Catalina said. She gently took the girl’s arm and turned her away from the window. ‘Life in London is not so grey as all that, you know. You have much to look forward to there.’

‘Do I?’

‘Of course. There will be dances and concerts, the theatre—and you are sure to find a suitor to your liking there. One your guardian will also like.’

Lydia nodded, but Catalina could see that she was not convinced. And why should she be? Mr Hale was a very respectable choice, especially for a young lady of Lydia’s disposition. Young lovers shouldn’t be parted because of ambition or duty. Catalina knew the pain that caused all too well. She had to help Lydia be cautious, but not to lose hope too soon.

‘Let’s go over your lines again,’ Catalina said, taking up the script from the table.

An hour later, there was a knock at the door. Catalina opened it to find a footman standing there with a note in his hand. His blond hair contrasted with the red and gold of his livery, and his eyes were strangely insolent as he looked at her. ‘Excuse me, Mrs Moreno, but I was asked to deliver this to you,’ he said.

‘Thank you.’ Catalina took the note, and saw that it was Jamie’s handwriting that spelled her name across the folded paper. Breathless, she hastily closed the door and broke the wax seal to open it.

Catalina
.
I have not been able to see you alone for the past few days, and I fear we may not have the chance to speak privately again for a while. But I must tell you so many things—beginning with what happened to me in Spain after I thought you died...

I cared for nothing at all when you were gone. I felt cold, removed, and it didn’t matter what happened or what I did. I infiltrated a group opposed to the king in order to send their plans to the British government. I came to believe what I did was painful but necessary for the security of Europe after Napoleon, and as I did not care if I lived or died it seemed best I was the one to do this rather than a man with a wife. When I was discovered, there was a fight and I was wounded, as you can see now.

It was soon after that my brother Harry found me and I heard what had really happened at Castonbury while I was gone—the financial troubles, the scandal, father’s health. I had abandoned them when they needed me the most, and only then did I feel the full weight of my mistakes. I can only try and make it right now, for all of us.

And that is why I truly cannot bring myself to hate Alicia Walters. I have done things as terrible as she has, and yet here I have another chance with my family.

If you can, please meet me tomorrow. I will send you word on where and when. I must see you and talk to you more. J.

Catalina closed her eyes and clutched the note tightly in her hand. How Jamie must have hurt, so ill, so far from home! And she had not been there to comfort him. She still could not, not really. She feared he wouldn’t accept any comfort she could give anyway. So much had happened while they were parted, so much that she didn’t know. If they were to be together again, they would have to find a way past that, and she wasn’t sure that was even possible any longer.

Yet still there was that temptation to meet him, to run to him. She urged prudence on Lydia, but it seemed she had none herself. She never had, not when it came to Jamie.

Catalina went to the window and looked down at the small garden below. It was much quieter there than in the grand front gardens. No one rushed around getting ready for the party tonight. But the peaceful scene brought no quiet to her own heart.

‘Oh, Jamie,’ she whispered. ‘Why do you do this to me?’

Why did he make it so very hard to do what she knew she had to do?

* * *

‘...though you have ever had my heart, yet now I find I love you more because I bring you less!’

As Lydia swooned back in the leading man’s arms for the final time, everyone applauded and cheered enthusiastically.

Catalina couldn’t help but smile at Lydia’s glowing face as the girl took her bow. The Chinese lanterns strung around the stage added an otherworldly glow to the late evening. The grey skies had miraculously lifted before the play began and now the sunset was bright pink with gold streaks along the edge of the horizon. More lights were strung in the trees, and the guests were seated in rows of white and gold chairs on the grass. Everyone from the family and local gentry to the estate tenants and villagers were dressed in their finest and everyone was laughing and having a fine time.

It made Catalina’s heart feel lighter to see it. Castonbury was its own small world, and a happier one now that Jamie was home and there was a wedding to look forward to. It was a perfect warm summer evening, a moment of brightness after the gloom of years.

Catalina glanced over her shoulder to where Jamie sat with his father on the back row of chairs. The duke’s armchair had been brought out for him, and after much complaining and threatening to leave early, he had been wrapped in shawls and persuaded to stay. Even he looked happy as he clapped for the play, and leaned over to say something to Jamie.

Jamie shook his head and gave that crooked half-smile of his. As he said something in reply to his father, he caught her looking at him and actually gave her a wink.

Catalina spun back around to face the stage and tried not to laugh. It was a strange night indeed.

The actors took their last bows and yielded the stage to the musicians who were to play for the evening’s dancing. As they tuned up, footmen hurried out to take up the chairs and everyone lined up along the refreshment tables. Lily and Giles themselves were handing out glasses of punch and accepting best wishes.

Catalina had been told such a gathering was a tradition at Castonbury, a time for everyone around the estate to gather and celebrate a marriage. But it had not been held in many years, not since the duke had married his late duchess.

‘It will be a joyous day indeed when Lord Hatherton and his bride have their own party,’ Mrs Stratton had said. ‘Castonbury will be truly back to itself then.’

Lord Hatherton.
It had been so easy to forget who Jamie was when he held her in his arms in that rough little cottage as the rain fell around them. But here, with all the weight and tradition of Castonbury around them, with all the people who expected so much of their heir, she was reminded.

She found a quiet place to stand under a tree at the edge of the gathering where she could watch everyone. Couples were finding their way to the dance; Lydia was sipping punch with Mr Hale, giggling and blushing at something he said to her. Catalina hated to take her away from him just yet, not on such a night. The girl couldn’t get into much trouble with the crowds around her.

Catalina drifted around the party, letting the lively music wash over her. The dancers were spinning and twirling, laughing with the sheer joy of the exercise, of dancing under the rising moon of a fine summer’s night.

The garden folly, so silent and solitary as it watched over the gathering, glowed a pure white in the night. Catalina leaned her head against the trunk of a tree and looked at it, letting the memory of her kiss there with Jamie wash over her. That was what she was doing here—building up a store of memories to carry forward with her. She could take them out like beautiful tiny jewels on cold nights to come and they would sustain her.

Suddenly the serene scene was broken by a figure running across the meadow. It was a tall man clad in dark clothes, and surely could be anyone at the party. But something about the way he moved, so quick and furtive, made her frown as she watched him. Who would flee from the festivities like that?

Just before he reached the folly, his hat tumbled from his head. He paused for a moment to retrieve it, and as he bent down the moonlight caught on his bright-coloured hair. Then he was gone.

Catalina started to run after him, but one step reminded her she only wore thin evening slippers. She could never catch him, and even if she did what would she say? Lecture him about leaving parties early?

She shook her head. It was only Jamie telling her that it was Hugh Webster behind Alicia’s scheme, and the bad memories that awoke, making her think she saw him. Hugh Webster.

Yet there had been that man she saw at the Assembly Rooms as well...

‘Mrs Moreno?’ she heard Lydia say. She turned to see the girl walking towards her, the Chinese lanterns bright on her filmy white costume. ‘Are you all right?’

Catalina smiled. ‘Very well. I was just getting a breath of air. You were splendid in the play, Lydia.’

‘Oh, Mrs Moreno, I had so much fun!’ Lydia cried happily. ‘I wish there could be a party like this every night.’

‘You would soon tire of it if there was.’

‘I never could.’ Lydia’s smile suddenly faded and she bit her lip uncertainly. ‘But did you see that strange man?’

A bolt of alarm shot through Catalina. ‘Strange man?’

‘Yes, it was the oddest thing. He wasn’t dressed up for the party or anything. He was just standing there alone, just beyond the stage.’ Lydia gestured towards the corner of the stage where the musicians now played. It was half hidden by a drapery. ‘He seemed to be watching Lord Hatherton, and he looked almost...angry.’

‘You didn’t speak to him, did you?’ Catalina said urgently.

‘Certainly not. He looked too fearsome, so glowering. I pointed him out to Mr Hale, but by then he was gone.’

‘Could you tell what he looked like?’

‘Not really. It was too dark there. But he was rather tall, and had an unusual red beard.’ Lydia’s eyes widened. ‘Who do you think he is, Mrs Moreno? A criminal escaped from gaol or something like that?’

Catalina tried to laugh to reassure Lydia. It would never do to frighten the girl, yet it did sound rather like Hugh Webster. He surely wasn’t as safely far away as Jamie seemed to think. ‘No, of course not. Probably just an uninvited guest. But if you do see someone like that again, be sure and let me know at once.’

‘Of course, Mrs Moreno.’

Catalina led Lydia back to the bright lights of the party, and soon the girl was dancing with Phaedra’s handsome husband, Bram. Once she was sure Lydia was safely occupied, she went in search of Jamie.

Fortunately she found him alone, watching the dancers. He gave her a smile as she joined him. ‘Having a good time?’ he said.

‘Yes, quite,’ Catalina answered in a soft voice. ‘Your family does know how to give a good party. Yet I fear there was an interloper here earlier.’

Jamie’s expression didn’t change, but she saw his jaw tighten. ‘An interloper?’

‘Yes. I saw him run off through the gardens, and Lydia glimpsed him over by the stage. She said he had a red beard. Could it be Webster?’

‘Neither of you approached him, did you?’ Jamie asked sharply.

‘No, not at all. I didn’t even see him very clearly.’

‘Good. Stay right here for a moment, Catalina.’

He turned away and she caught his arm. ‘You can’t go chasing after him! He is probably long gone by now. And...’ And she couldn’t bear to see him hurt again.

‘I won’t be gone long.’

Then he left her there. Catalina waited anxiously, watching the party, wondering what Jamie was doing, where he had gone. She scanned each face, making sure none of them were Webster. After what felt like hours, but was probably only about fifteen minutes, he reappeared at her side.

BOOK: A Stranger at Castonbury
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