Authors: Marie Higgins
“Your eyes tell me different. They suggest a great sadness in your life.”
“Does everyone not have something sad in their lives?” He shook his head. “Kitty, I feel helpless at times and don’t know who to talk with since I know for a certainty I cannot talk with you about it.”
“And why not?”
“It’s a delicate subject, my sweet.” He tried to smile under the circumstances.
“It works both way, Nicholas. If you want me to open up to you, then I expect the same from you.”
How he would like nothing more than to take her in his arms this very second and let her comfort him. He wanted to be close to her, to share his love with her. “Do you know how adorable you are right now?”
He bent until his lips hovered above hers, but he didn’t kiss her. He couldn’t...it wouldn’t be right. But when she sighed and leaned closer, closing her eyes, he couldn’t stop himself any longer. Just as her lips touched his, there was a shout in the distance.
They jumped apart. Under his breath, Nick grumbled, not believing fate’s ill timing. He took a deep breath and walked into the clearing to discover what the commotion was about.
A lone rider atop of a horse galloped Nick’s way. He growled.
“Nick.” Gregg’s voice rang out. “Is Catherine with you?”
“Yes,” he answered. “What is it? Is something wrong with Uncle Grant?”
“No, he’s fine. I came to get Catherine.” Gregg stopped the horse. “She has a visitor.”
Catherine stepped out of the little grove of trees, looking more composed than Nick felt.
“I do? Who is it?” she asked.
Gregg’s smile wavered as he switched his attention between her and Nick. “It’s your father.”
She sucked in her breath and the color left her face. She pursed her lips. With a stiff nod, she straightened her shoulders. “I’ll be there momentarily.”
Gregg shot Nick a fierce glare before turning his horse and riding away.
Gregg suspects. Nick cold read his brother well. If
roles were reversed, Nick would have thought the same.
He walked to Catherine and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “Are you all right? You look as if you are quite upset by your unexpected visitor.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll send him away if you wish.”
She smiled. “That’s not necessary. I shall speak with him, and hopefully discover why he’s
really
here.”
Chapter Eleven
Catherine entered the drawing room with a straight back and her chin
erect. Nick followed, only a few steps behind. When her father rose from the sofa and stared her way, pain twisted in her chest. He still held the same accusing glare he had since her mother’s death.
He lifted his chin a little higher and switched his focus between her and Nick.
“Hello, Father,” she greeted without emotion.
The straight line of his mouth relaxed. “I’m relieved to hear you are finally speaking to me.”
Keeping her stance prim and proper, Catherine strolled to a chair and sat on the edge, just as she was schooled to do.
Nick walked to her father and gave him a hearty handshake. “Good to see you again, Colonel Martin.”
“And you, Nicholas. How is your uncle faring?”
“He’s doing better, thank you.”
Her father nodded and took his seat on the sofa. “Catherine, my dear, I’ve been worried sick about you since you left home, and I needed to assure myself that you were all right. I hope you forgive my unannounced visit.”
“Well, you are here now, and as you can see, I’m well.” She paused only briefly then asked, “Now why don’t you tell me the real reason for your visit?”
A nerve in his cheek jumped – the only sign of his inward annoyance. Perhaps he held back his temper because of Nick’s presence. She didn’t think she’d misjudged her father. There had to be a reason he came to see her. Perhaps he thought the engagement wasn’t going quick enough for his greedy tastes.
“Well, I...” His gaze flew from Catherine to Grant’s nephew.
Nick strode to Catherine and gently touched her shoulder. “I will leave you two alone to visit in private.”
As Catherine smiled into his warm and caring eyes, her heart fluttered. “Thank you.” He left and she wished she could go with him...wished they hadn’t been interrupted by the stream in the first place.
Catherine took a deep breath and wiped the smile off her face, replacing it with a scowl. She narrowed her eyes toward her father. “So, what’s the real purpose for this visit?”
His expression hardened, his jaw clenched and his lips curled. Chest heaving, he switched his gaze between Catherine to the now empty doorway. “Catherine, where were you when I first arrived over thirty minutes ago?”
“I was out riding. Did Gregg not explain that to you?”
“You were riding with Nick? Alone?”
She swallowed the lump of fear that gathered in her throat whenever his voice turned harsh like it was now. “Yes.”
“Where was Mrs. Berkley?”
“I’m certain I don’t know, Father. I have yet to see her this morning.”
He lifted off the sofa and paced the floor in front of her. “Good grief, girl, have you no decorum? Do you wish to make a laughingstock out of Grant Fielding’s family?”
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to shed them. She would not let her father humiliate her this way. “I have done nothing wrong.” Her stomach twisted from the lie.
“Being alone in a man’s presence while you’re almost married to another is
very
wrong.” He scrubbed his jaw, his eyes darkening with
invisible daggers her threw her way.
“But I’m not legally engaged. Although in Nicholas’ mind, he thinks I am. Besides, Nick will be part of my family when I wed. We did
nothing
wrong.”
He growled and marched up to her, stopping mere inches in front. “That’s not the impression I received a few minutes ago. I noticed the way
that man
looked upon my daughter. I can guarantee he didn’t have pure thoughts.”
Her body shook, but she still tried to remain strong. “You couldn’t be more wrong, Father.”
“I’m rarely ever wrong about these things.”
“I...I beg to differ. You have said and done a few things that have led me astray in the past few years. As it is, I cannot trust your word any longer.”
His eyes darkened even more, turning almost black. She hitched in a breath, but she would not cower. Never again.
“What would Grant think of his soon-to-be-bride spending so much time with his nephew?”
“Actually, Father, Grant is the one who insisted.”
He stepped back, his eyes wide. “Why would he do something so ludicrous?”
Annoyed, Catherine sighed heavily. “If you must know, Grant is quite ill. His weak heart caused him to have an attack a few weeks ago. Grant has been up in his room since that time.”
A small amount of color left his face. “Is he all right?”
She nodded. “With the constant care given by me, his sister, Miss Gertrude, and his nurse, he’s getting better. He won’t be able to get out of his bed for a few more days yet, but he’s gradually gaining strength.”
“I’m relieved to hear that.” Henry paused, a look of arrogance quickly replacing his sorrowful expression. “At least he’s not aware you’re in love with his nephew, but I’m quite certain the news will certainly cause his death.”
Catherine sucked in some air and held her anger. “Father, I really have no idea what you are referring to. Whatever you may have thought you saw between Nicholas and myself, it was certainly not love. I admire and respect him, as I’m sure he does me, but we are just friends. He and his two brothers are the brothers I never had. All three of them keep me occupied and they look out for my welfare.”
“You’re only fooling yourself, Cat.”
“Oh, you will never listen to me so why do I even try?” Letting out an unladylike growl, she lifted from the chair and walked toward the door, but before leaving, she glanced over her shoulder. “How long do you plan on staying?”
“I thought I would stay a week or so. That should give Grant and myself the time to get the betrothal arrangements out of the way.”
She nodded. “I shall instruct the maids to prepare a room for you.” She turned and left, her hands balled into fists.
Panic rose in her throat. If her father suspected her true feelings...could others also?
* * * *
The invisible chain around Catherine’s neck tightened minute by minute. Entertaining her father and keeping him from suspecting her true feelings for Nick remained top on her list. Gregg and Ian also helped keep him busy. Once in a while, Nick tried, but Catherine was exhausted from the effort it took. She wanted her father to leave. She didn’t want him in the first place. He kept reminding her it was to sign the betrothal agreement, yet nothing further had been mentioned.
Thankfully Hodgson had accompanied her father for this trip, and it was delightful to visit with him for a spell. She also convinced him to keep her father out of her hair, and Hodgson said he’d try. So far it hadn’t happened as she’d liked.
It didn’t matter if she was falling in love with Nick. She would marry Grant, although under duress. Until that time, she must not look dove-eyed when Nick was around. It was hard. She enjoyed the emotions rushing through her, not only from his gentle touch, but from his kindness. She wanted to feel like a woman in love because once she married Grant, she’d lose that.
Though her father was here, she didn’t take any time away from Grant. She spent many hours with him and Gertrude up in his room, either talking or playing chess. Grant’s health slowly improved, although his eyesight didn’t seem to have the same fortune.
She hesitated to tell Grant about her father staying here. It worried her that the news might excite him. He might even call her father up to sign the betrothal papers. Before that happened, there were things she needed to know about her soon-to-be-husband. Things she’d wondered about lately, especially since he started calling her Sophia and thinking she was her mother.
Later that day, Catherine sat on Grant’s bed playing draughts with him. Most of the time his sister slumped in the chair, asleep with a book lying open in her lap, her mouth open while soft snores breezed from her throat. Mary, his nurse, hovered quite a bit, which irritated Catherine. Wouldn’t the woman just leave them alone for a few minutes? What Catherine wanted to tell Grant wasn’t something Mary needed to hear. Sometimes Catherine wondered if Mary thought she was Grant’s servant instead of Hobbs.
Grant set his cards on the table and breathed a heavy sigh. “My dear, Catherine. Why are you off in another world? Would you rather be somewhere else right now?”
Her attention snapped back to Grant. “Oh, no. I want to be here, really I do, it’s just that I have a lot on my mind.”
He grinned. “Planning a dinner party, are you?”
“Heavens no! I wouldn’t do that with you still laid up in bed.”
His knuckles breezed across her cheek. “You’re such a sweet woman.” He paused as his hand fell to the bed. “So, what has been on your mind?”
Her heart hammered and her hands moistened. Fear of hearing the wrong thing made her hesitate, but she must know. “Grant? Could I ask you something although it might be somewhat awkward and maybe a little painful to answer?”
“Yes, my dear. Go ahead. I’ll tell you anything.”
For courage, she took a deep breath and continued. “Lately I have been wondering about you and...my mother.”
One of his eyebrows lifted. “Your mother? What about her?”
“I want to know what sort of feelings you had for her. Were you in love with her a long time ago? Before she married my father?”
Sitting back against his pillows, he folded his arms across his stomach, keeping his gaze on her. “What gave you the impression there was anything between us?”
Catherine looked down at her fingers entwined in her lap. “A few times you have called me by my mother’s name. Then, there’s the fact that my mother couldn’t wait to get me married off to you, and it made me wonder if it was because she couldn’t have you.” She finally looked up at him. “Did you want to marry me because I resembled my mother?”
Grant’s smile faded, but his eyes never left hers. “What a bright girl you are, Catherine.”
“Does that mean I’m correct?”
“Would you hate me if I told you yes?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m so confused about all of this. Will you please tell me about you and my mother?”
He nodded. “As I’ve told you before, your father and I were friends. I was being trained to follow in my father’s footsteps before my father died and didn’t have time for a lot of friends. So, your father’s friendship meant the world to me.”
Mary hurried to Grant’s side to fill his cup with more tea. He thanked her by giving her a wink, then sipped his tea. Suspicion took root inside Catherine, and she had a feeling Mary was a better friend to Grant than anyone realized.
“Anyway,” Grant continued, “we were inseparable as boys. When I was in my fifteenth year, your father met a lovely young girl who lived in the nearby village. We all became good friends and we secretly did things together. Slowly I began to fall in love with this girl, as did your father. I didn’t know about your father’s love for her, nor did he realize my feelings. On my eighteenth birthday I was sent on a trip to Europe with my father for a couple of years. It was hard to get letters to my friends during that time.”