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Authors: Suzanna Medeiros

Tags: #romance, historical romance, regency romance

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BOOK: Beguiling the Earl
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Louisa broke the silence again. “Well, my favorite was the Mozart.” She sighed. “I never imagined that playing with such proficiency could take such an emotional toll on someone. The poor girl looks quite wrung out.”

Catherine followed her gaze and saw that the Earl of Brantford was speaking to the Worthingtons now. Rose did, indeed, look slightly ill. It was all the more startling because she was normally so vivacious. Perhaps she had been suffering with nerves before the performance after all, and the strain of keeping them under control was only now beginning to show. She felt another stab of guilt as she remembered how she’d rebuffed the other woman’s offer of friendship.

Her eyes narrowed as they settled on Brantford. Louisa had told her that he was a spy, but it hardly seemed possible. The man looked to be about Kerrick’s age, perhaps a few years older. His hair was fair and cut very short. His demeanor, however, was that of someone who was extremely bored with his surroundings. Whereas Kerrick always seemed to be aware of everything and everyone around him, Brantford acted as though they were all beneath his notice.

Her gaze moved from Brantford to Kerrick and back again as she tried to imagine the two men working together to uncover secrets others wished to keep hidden. As she did so, the pieces of a puzzled seemed to click together in her mind. Brantford and Kerrick were both spies. The former had provided a distraction while the latter slipped away when no one else was paying attention to him. That could only mean Kerrick had been looking for something that evening. Did it have to do with the Worthingtons or was the evening’s location merely incidental? Had Kerrick left the room to meet with someone while everyone else was occupied?

When she turned again to look at Lord Kerrick, his eyes were on her. He hadn’t missed her examination of Lord Brantford, and at that moment she would give almost anything to know what he was thinking. Did he realize she knew about the service he and Brantford performed for their country? Did he even know that Nicholas and Louisa had guessed he was a spy? Or perhaps he thought she found Brantford attractive. If the latter thought caused him any concern, she hoped it was the reason for his close scrutiny. She smiled brightly at Kerrick before turning back to make small talk with Louisa, but in the back of her mind she was formulating a plan.

ooOoo

His search that evening had proved fruitless. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find in Worthington’s study, but he’d hoped to stumble upon something—anything—that would bring him closer to ending this inconvenient investigation. Correspondence, perhaps, or even a name scribbled on a piece of paper. It had been risky slipping away from the performance to do a quick sweep of Worthington’s papers, but he’d had to chance it. He hadn’t had enough time to do a thorough search, however, and frustration had weighed heavily on him when he realized he’d already been away too long.

Seeing Catherine again had renewed his determination to put this whole matter behind him. He’d been successful in avoiding her for the past few days, but that had also meant avoiding the various evening entertainments Rose Hardwick had attended. He’d sought out other opportunities to engage Worthington during that time. They were both members of White’s, but despite the fact he’d all but haunted the gentleman’s club on St. James Street, he hadn’t run into the man once.

He’d hoped to accomplish much that night when he accepted the invitation to the musicale. As Nicholas had suggested, he had little doubt that it had been held for his benefit. An effort on her parents’ part to showcase Rose’s many talents. The way Worthington and his wife had fallen on him when he’d arrived, as though he were the answer to every last one of their prayers, had almost been more than he could bear. He’d accepted their fawning as a necessary evil, hoping to find an opportunity to investigate. Brantford had supplied the distraction that had allowed him to leave the room, and it had been an easy task to slip back in and join the group of men standing near the back of the room. But in the end, the only thing he’d accomplished that evening was to make Worthington believe that a union between Kerrick and his daughter was all but certain.

How he’d ferret out Worthington’s guilt was anyone’s guess. He was beginning to think the man was innocent and his efforts an exercise in futility.

Something in Catherine’s expression after the performance had concerned him when he’d seen her watching Brantford. He couldn’t help thinking that she’d somehow seen through the other man’s pretense. Of course, Kerrick had involved Brantford in that matter concerning Overlea the previous fall, but he’d been sure to tell her Brantford was merely a friend. It wasn’t possible that she’d discovered that the perpetually bored earl had a set of skills that made him very dangerous to his enemies.

He forced his thoughts away from Catherine and back to the task at hand. His investigation had so far had turned up nothing, and he was no closer to ending it than when Brantford had approached him. And so, desperate to find something concrete either way about Worthington’s guilt or innocence, he left the man’s home as soon as politeness allowed and made a quick trip home. When he went out again, he was dressed appropriately for a visit to the more seedy parts of London. It was time for him to call in a favor and arrange to have Worthington followed.

 

Chapter Six

Catherine waited for Kerrick a few houses down the street from his town house, the shadow of a tree obscuring her cloaked figure. It hadn’t taken her long to find the address in Nicholas’s study after he and Louisa had gone to bed. She’d been relieved to discover that Kerrick’s house was but a few minutes’ walk away.

She knew that what she was doing was foolish and more than a little dangerous, but she was no longer content to sit back and wonder where she stood with Kerrick. After he had kissed her, she’d been so certain he felt something for her, something that went beyond mere fondness. But when she’d seen him tonight, it wasn’t difficult to believe that the rumors about him and Rose Hardwick were true. Only… he’d slipped out during Rose’s performance and lied about it.

She couldn’t play the coquette, pretending an indifference she didn’t feel as Charlotte had advised. Or rather, she didn’t want to. And so she’d decided she must approach him directly. She was weary of waiting to catch a few glimpses of him every evening only to be disappointed when he didn’t show. And when he did, he was still careful to avoid her.

Just that morning she never would have imagined herself brave enough to confront him in this way, but she could no longer bear the uncertainty. Her mind swam with questions that demanded answers. She risked outright rejection, but she had to know how he felt. And to learn the truth, she needed to speak to him alone when no one would interrupt them.

She’d overheard Kerrick telling Nicholas that he planned to go to his club after the musicale, and so she’d sent her maid—after giving her a very hefty bonus so she wouldn’t reveal what Catherine was doing—to keep watch over Kerrick’s house. She hadn’t been certain if the young woman would do as she’d asked or report her actions to the housekeeper. But Catherine had taken the risk, knowing Lily was sending most of her regular pay back to her family to help support them. Fortunately, her gamble had paid off.

When she arrived to take over the watch, Lily told her that Lord Kerrick had been at home when she’d arrived but had left again shortly afterward and had not yet returned. Lily was reluctant to leave her side, but Catherine had promised her another bonus. The fact that she agreed was testament to how much Kerrick was liked. If Catherine had been visiting any other man, she doubted any amount of money would have sufficed to pry her maid from her side.

An hour passed and she started to regret the impulsive decision that had led her out of the house on that warm spring night. The night was still and dark, the only sounds those of the occasional horse and carriage on a not-too-distant street.

She heard footsteps before she saw the figure of a man making his way down the street. It was too dark to tell if it was Kerrick, so she waited, pressed up against the sturdy trunk of the tree, her heartbeat an echo in her ears.

The precariousness of her situation hadn’t occurred to her until that moment. Despite the shadow of the tree and the dark cloak that obscured her, she would be seen if he continued past Kerrick’s house and glanced in her direction. She should have taken greater care in choosing a hiding spot, but it was now too late.

Her heartbeat quickened, then leapt when the man turned and started up the steps of Kerrick’s town house.

“Kerrick,” she called, stepping out from the shadow of the tree.

Her voice hadn’t been more than an exhalation, but he heard it. His head snapped around and his gaze fell on her. He shook his head in disbelief.

“Tell me I’m losing my mind and that you’re not actually standing there.”

Something in his expression told her that she hadn’t made a mistake.

She pushed back the hood of her cloak. “You’re not losing your mind.”

He looked up and down the street, then jerked his head toward the side of the house. She met him there by a side door, concealed in the shadows between his house and his neighbor’s. He didn’t speak again as he unlocked the door and led her inside. The room they entered was unlit, and it took her a few moments to realize they were in the kitchen.

He took hold of her hand and awareness swept through her when she realized that, like her, he wasn’t wearing gloves. She remained silent as she followed him up a small staircase and down a short corridor. He led her into another dark room and closed the door firmly behind them before releasing her and stepping away. She heard the sound of a match, followed by the sudden flicker of flame as he bent to light a lamp. She saw then that they were in his study.

The tension in the room, already heavy with what lay unspoken between them, only increased when he straightened and turned to face her. She’d hoped he would admit that he was pleased to see her, but the expression on his face told her he wouldn’t make such an admission easily. A muscle flexed along his jaw as he held her with his gaze for several seconds.

“What were you thinking coming here, on your own, at”—his gaze swept to the clock on his desk before returning to hers—“at two in the morning. What if someone had seen you? Your reputation would be in tatters.” He shook his head and gave a dry, humorless laugh. “Beyond that, being alone on the streets in the middle of the night is not a safe place for any woman. But one as beautiful as you…”

She went to him then, wanting only to ease his worry. She reached to take hold of his hands but froze when he stepped back to avoid her touch. Her arms dropped to her sides.

“It wasn’t far and I took great care not to be seen.”

His mouth firmed in a solid line and he seemed to struggle for words. It occurred to her that he didn’t want to ask her why she’d come. Well, if he hoped to avoid the subject of what was between them, she was not going to allow that to happen.

“You haven’t asked me why I was waiting for you.”

“I have no notion what could have happened that couldn’t have waited for the morrow.”

She sighed, exasperated with his stubborn refusal to acknowledge the obvious. “I believe you know precisely why I am here.” When he said nothing, she asked, “Are you courting Rose Hardwick?”

He looked pointedly at the clock again before answering, but she recognized the action for the delaying tactic that it was.

“Surely you’re not here at this hour to satisfy your curiosity about the latest on-dit.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

His eyes narrowed. “Lady Worthington is a close personal friend to my mother. It is not an acquaintance I can avoid.”

She wanted to shake him. “What does that mean? That you’re merely being friendly? That there’s an understanding between your two families about you and Rose?”

He shook his head. “No, there is no such understanding. Regardless of what the Worthingtons choose to believe.”

“Do you want there to be one?” She forced the question out, not sure she wanted to know the answer anymore.

He was silent a moment before he answered. “No. I do not.”

Hope threatened to steal her breath. “Because you care for me.” She ignored him when he shook his head again. “You kissed me that night at Almack’s. Why would you do that if you didn’t care for me even a little?”

He couldn’t meet her eyes. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll arrange for a carriage to take you home.”

She believed him when he said that he didn’t wish to be with Rose Hardwick, but it was clear he was still resisting their own connection. She’d felt the evidence of his desire for her that evening at Almack’s when he’d kissed her. Beyond that, he wasn’t the type of man to lead her astray. If he didn’t care for her, he would have no difficulty telling her so.

Something was holding him back, but she suffered from no such qualms. What remained was to show him how she felt.

She untied the ribbon holding her cloak closed and turned to drape the garment over a chair. When she faced him again, she didn’t miss the fact that his eyes had been trained on her figure. The pale green gown she wore was modest, and for a moment she wished she’d changed into one of her evening dresses with a lower décolletage. Kerrick didn’t seem to mind, and the appreciation in his gaze gave her the courage to speak.

“I’m not returning home. Not yet. Perhaps later, after we’ve…” She let her voice trail off, not quite brave enough to say the words, but from his expression it was clear she didn’t need to.

When he replied, his voice was filled with regret. “This isn’t going to happen, Catherine. It can’t.”

She took another step forward, her spirits rising when he didn’t back away from her. “I think we both know that isn’t true.”

His eyes searched her face and she could see that he was very close, finally, to accepting what had always been inevitable.

“I’m supposed to keep you safe, not ruin you.”

She shook her head and took the final step that removed the distance between them. They were so close now she could feel the heat of his body reaching out to her. Beckoning to her. “I don’t care about that. I only care about being with you.”

BOOK: Beguiling the Earl
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