How to Beguile a Duke (Entangled Scandalous) (12 page)

Sighing, he pulled the horses to a halt. “Lady Farthingham, this is Miss Malboeuf, a friend of the family visiting from New Orleans. Miss Malboeuf, this is Lady Farthingham.”

“Pleased to meet you, my lady,” said Catherine sedately.

Lady Farthingham’s brow crinkled. “Malboeuf. Why does that name sound familiar? Do I know your father?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, my lady.” Catherine’s brows drew together as she carefully chose her words. “You may know my mother. She is a member of the Walsley family.”

“Walsley? As in Walsley Manor?” Her mouth hung open in surprise, a most unbecoming look for her.

“Yes, my lady. Now if you will excuse us, I have an appointment.” Clucking to the horses, he slapped the reins against their backsides and waved to Lady Farthingham as they sped away.

Catherine raised her brows at him. “Is there anyone you do like?”

He frowned. “My mother. My cousin, Justin. And his wife.”

“Anyone you aren’t related to?”

While pretending to consider her question, he instead tried to determine at what point he began to think of her as Catherine rather than Miss Malboeuf. He searched the stretch of Rotten Row ahead and found a relatively private place to stop the curricle.

“No one comes to mind.” He held his hand out. “May I please see the journal?”

Her cheeks reddened, but she handed it to him, her gloved fingers brushing against his palm. A jolt shot through him. He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly as he thumbed through the pages. If his memory served him, there were representatives of France, Sweden, Austria, and Russia present at the dinner party. He vividly recalled the Austrian because Catherine’s grandmother had recorded some of his Bavarian curses. He found the passage he had been searching for and handed the journal back to Catherine.

“I think you will find most of the names in this section.” He pulled a dried leaf from a nearby oak and handed it to her to use as a marker. “If I remember correctly, she rarely used full names.”

She studied his face. “I believe you are correct, Your Grace. It will be difficult to identify anyone.”

“Why is it so important to you to solve this mystery?” He loosened the reins and let the horses have their heads. “You wore what I believe is a valuable diamond necklace to the Cortland ball, and your father runs a successful shipping corporation, so I know you aren’t short of funds.”

She drew in a large breath and let it out slowly as she watched the activity in the park. “You are correct that it is not about the value of the tiara. For as long as I can remember, every night at bedtime my mother told me the story of my great-grandmother’s journal and the missing tiara. I grew up knowing that one day I would go to England and retrieve the journal so we could solve the mystery.”

Unlike the facade she held during society events, here in the park, her unguarded expression was softer. She was beautiful. He cleared his throat and she turned toward him, her green eyes filled with determination. “I’m not prepared to give up my quest.”

“Then we shall press forward. I will await your report regarding the names in the journal.”

She inclined her head. “I thank you for your assistance, Your Grace.”

One of the horses stomped his foot at a fly and jiggled the carriage traces, causing the other to raise his head. He lifted the reins to steady the pair. “If we’re going to be reading the journal together and attempting to solve the mystery of the missing jewels, perhaps we ought to behave as friends rather than rivals.”

She opened her mouth and he continued quickly before she could speak. “With regard to this matter, at least. We are still adversaries as far as our wager is concerned.” He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. His opinion of her had improved since their first meeting, but he would not capitulate when it came to Walsley Manor.

“Of course, Your Grace.” Her lips twitched.

“Therefore, to solidify our agreement to work together on the matter of the journal, I give you leave to call me Nick.”

She straightened. “Nick is your given name? And here it thought it was Nicky.”

He rolled his eyes at her. Clearly she had overheard Countess Lieven. “It’s Nicholas, to be precise.”

A giggle escaped. “It’s just that Nick doesn’t seem grand enough for someone of your…perceived—”

He held his palm up. “You may stop right there. Do not besmirch my conciliatory efforts by insulting me. Again.”

“My apologies, Your Grace.” She attempted to look contrite, but the laughter waltzing in her eyes gave her away.

He prayed for patience as he waited for her to say something else, but she instead watched the riders passing on Rotten Row. “Are you going to give me permission to call you Catherine?”

Without turning to him, she answered, “I thought it unnecessary, since you already have.”

She did have a point. “My apologies. It just sneaked out.”

She laughed, a rich, unbridled sound of happiness. “By all means, you are welcome to call me by my given name.”

“Now that we are friends, I should like to know how your quest to secure a marriage proposal is progressing. Do you have any viable prospects?”

She crossed her arms and leaned against the back of the seat. “Have you become friendly with me only to gain information about my progress in winning our wager?”

He shot her his most winning smile, the one that held felled lesser females. “Of course not. It is just an added bonus.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

He placed his hand over his heart. “Madam, I am not only insulted, but you have inflicted a fatal wound.”

“Balderdash.” She waved a hand in dismissal.

The suspicion in her eyes coupled with her disinterest in coddling him was a heady combination. His breathing quickened, and he pulled at his collar, suddenly suffused with heat despite the cool breeze rustling the trees around them.

“If you are expecting me to whine and look daggers at you and bemoan the difficulties of being accepted into the
ton
, then you have set yourself up to be disappointed.”

He smothered a grin. “So you do have prospects.”

“I didn’t say that, either.”

“Come now, with your beauty and wealth it shouldn’t be that difficult for you to snare a desperate, destitute nobleman. What about Tregony?”

Turning to the right as a rider passed the carriage, she said, “Lord Tregony is an excellent prospect, probably my best at this time.”

She did seem to have gotten on well with the man at the ball, but Nick was not impressed by him. Something in his manner and the way he only interacted with people who could be of use to him made Nick uneasy. No, he was not a good match for Catherine. “And yet,” he said, rubbing his chin, “one does wonder at the circumstances that resulted in his family’s current financial situation. You wouldn’t want to turn your fortune over to him only to have it squandered away within a year.”

Catherine frowned, and he was intrigued by the fact that she did not attempt to defend him. Maybe she had picked up on his deficiencies as well.

“What about Sherrington?” he asked.

“He is besotted with Jane, though I suppose there is some possibility that he will change his mind since she is not at all interested in him. But it may require more time than I have to spare for him to rid himself of his infatuation.”

Sherrington was a fool not to notice Catherine, but if Lady Jane was to refuse him more adamantly, he might change his mind. Though if Catherine married him she would have no need for Walsley and they could forget about the wager. “Dagenham?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You know as well as I that he is a rakehell with no respect for women and” —she glanced around before lowering her voice and continuing— “a despicable excuse for a man. It is rumored that he murdered his ailing father so he could gain control of his inheritance in a more timely fashion.”

She paused, her eyes flashing indignation and her soft, full lips slightly parted as if in anticipation of something. His groin tightened. Aphrodite herself could not have been more tantalizing. He had thrown Sherrington out there to make sure he hadn’t been wrong in his assessment of her. Though she had led a sheltered life, she appeared to be an excellent judge of character.

Lifting her chin, she added, “Jane has more candidates lined up for me. The season is still young, and I am confident I shall find more prospects.”

“I would caution you that too much confidence could lead to disappointment, but since you will not heed my advice there is no point.”

“You are correct that it is unproductive of you to waste your…” She leaned rather precariously over the edge of the curricle, her brows furrowed. “What is Captain Joubert doing here? He ought to have left London weeks ago.”

And with that, she leapt from the curricle, the blasted woman.

“Captain,” she called as she hurried after the man.

Nick lifted the reins and urged the horses into a brisk walk. He would not abandon the curricle to fetch her except as a last resort.

“Captain Joubert,” she yelled again as she dashed after the man, who finally turned and acknowledged her. What he had been doing slinking about in the trees was another matter altogether.

Halting the curricle, he scrutinized the man. His simple clothing gave no hint as to his identity, but since Catherine had referred to him as captain, it was likely he worked for her father. The man was tall and lanky and appeared to be around Nick’s age.

The captain closed his eyes briefly as Catherine drew up to him, then bowed and said, “Miss Malboeuf, how lovely to see you.”

She placed her hands on her hips. “What are you doing here? I thought the ship was to return to New Orleans immediately.”

“That was the plan, of course, but the cargo hasn’t been delivered yet, so we wait.” He shrugged.

Her eyes narrowed. “Papa will not be pleased with the delay. Do you have a departure date?”

“Any day now, Miss Malboeuf.”

“You will contact me if the delay lasts more than three days?”

Clenching his jaw, he spoke through his teeth. “Miss Malboeuf, I appreciate your concern, but I am authorized to act on behalf of the company. I’m certain your father does not want you meddling in the mundane details of his business.”

Catherine drew back, clearly not accustomed to being spoken to in that manner.

The captain’s expression softened. “Miss Malboeuf, please do not concern yourself. This sort of delay occurs frequently. Rest assured that once the cargo is loaded, we will be on our way.”

She nodded but did not respond.

“If you will excuse me, I have an appointment. Please send my regards to Diana.”

“Thank you, Captain.” She watched until he disappeared from sight, then turned and climbed into the curricle.

Nick frowned at her. “In the future, I would appreciate a warning before you leap from a moving vehicle.” She had been lucky that no one else had been around to witness her inappropriate behavior.

She waved her hand in dismissal. “Did he seem overly defensive to you?”

“Considering that you challenged his ability to carry out his duties properly, I have to say no.”

She turned her narrowed gaze on him. “My father runs his business efficiently, and he would never let a ship sit at port for this long.”

“Catherine, delays with this sort of thing are inevitable.”

She slumped against the cushions. “I suppose so, but I can’t help but think something is off with the situation.”

“What do you suspect the captain of?”

“I’m not certain. He is one of my father’s most trusted workers.”

“Then you must trust that he is carrying out his duties, and if he is not, surely your father will attend to the matter when the ship returns to New Orleans.”

“Yes, I suppose.” She chewed on her fingernail until she noticed him watching her, then sat up and smoothed her skirts.

He lifted the reins. “Now that we have that settled, it is high time I return you to Lady Hartley.”

Since the earlier congestion had dissipated, he urged the horses into a canter. She placed her hand on her bonnet and laughed, her concerns seemingly forgotten. She had a unique ability to find joy in places where it eluded him. But he would not be hoodwinked by her open personality. She was an acquaintance with whom he placed a wager. A wager he would win. And once he won the wager, their association would end. Due to his position in society, the Duke of Boulstridge could not associate with pirates or their daughters. Though the possibility of losing Walsley was daunting, even more disturbing was the tidal wave of dismay threatening to pull him under at the thought of Catherine marrying another man.

…

After Nick escorted Catherine to the door and took his leave, she glanced into the empty parlor, then headed to her chamber. She wasn’t sure what to think of Captain Joubert’s appearance at Hyde Park. Perhaps there had just been an issue with the cargo, but his continued presence in London was disconcerting. More than that, if there was a problem, he should have been at the docks, not skulking about in the park.

As she shut the door behind her, she noticed a letter propped against her pillow. She mustn’t get her hopes up, but could it be…
yes
! A letter from her mother. She broke the seal and began to read her mother’s elegant script. She had barely scanned the first paragraph when a knock sounded on the door and Diana entered.

“It’s a girl!” She threw her arms around Diana, and Cay jumped against her legs in an effort to catch her attention.

“Her name is Arabella. She was born two months to the day after we sailed from New Orleans.” Catherine continued to skim the letter, unable to keep from smiling. She finally had a sister. A wave of longing for her family and her new sister overwhelmed her and she dropped onto the bed. Cay leapt onto her lap and licked the tears spilling from her eyes.