No Man's Bride (24 page)

He pulled her against him, and she burrowed her head in his neck, loving the way he smelled.

“I almost lost you to my obsession with work. I won’t ever do that again. I forgot what was truly important. I forgot the reason I got into politics. I wanted to help people. I wanted to do good, and I let my ambition get the better of me.” He stroked her hair, his breath warm on her cheek. “I don’t want the Cabinet position, not if it means losing you. I’ve missed precious minutes and seconds with you, Catie. I spent hours at a desk when I could have been with you. I don’t
want to lose any more time together. I don’t want to lose you.”

Her heart swelled, and she murmured, “You won’t. And you never will. I love you, Quint.”

He answered her with a kiss that didn’t end until morning.

C
atie thought she dreamed the sound. She tried to turn over, to ignore the ping, ping, ping, but finally she opened her eyes and listened.

Beside her, Quint breathed in and out deeply. He was asleep and his body was warm and heavy. She wanted to turn into his heat, feel his arms come around her, but she heard the ping again and forced herself to slip out of bed.

A quick survey of the room revealed clothes scattered over the floor, a tub with water that had long ago cooled, and a half-empty bottle of wine and two glasses. No shoes or a robe.

She heard the ping again, this one coming from her room, next door, and she pulled on Quint’s
tailcoat in an effort to cover herself. She hurried through the dressing room and looked out the window. Below, three women had their heads together. One was blond, one brunette, and the other auburn-haired.

Catherine pushed the window up and peered out. “What are you doing here?” she hissed.

The girls jumped and looked up at her. “We’ve come to help you,” Maddie said. “Come down.”

“I don’t need help,” Catherine whisper-shouted back. “Go home and go to bed.”

Maddie nodded and began to pull her cousins away, but Ashley looked up and hissed, “What about Valentine? Did he really give up the Cabinet position? That’s what people were saying when you left.”

Catherine shrugged and shook her head sadly. “He did.”

“Then come down. We want to help,” Josie called.

Catherine did not see how her cousins could help. They had not made a scene at the ball; they were not going to be the subject of a resignation article in the
Times
. They had not absconded with the prime minister’s coach.

She should close the window and go back to bed. Quint needed her now. He didn’t need her three cousins’ misguided attempts at patching up a hopeless situation. She dressed quickly, choosing the men’s clothing Maddie had sent
weeks ago because she did not need assistance to put it on. Then she tiptoed down the steps, past the sleeping footman in the foyer, and opened the door.

Her cousins were waiting for her on the front stoop.

Ashley took her hand. “Quick, let’s go.”

“Go where? I’m not going anywhere dressed like this.”

“We have a plan to help your husband,” Josie said. “We’re going to see that he gets the nod for the Cabinet post.”

Catherine looked at Josie and then Ashley and finally Maddie. All three girls were wearing trousers and men’s shirts. Their hair was tucked under their collars or, in Ashley’s case, she’d stuffed it under a farmer’s cap.

“But I don’t even know if he wants the position.”

“Of course he wants the position,” Ashley said. “He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

Catie bit her lip. “You’re right. I can’t let him give this up.”

“That’s the spirit,” Josie said.

“What did you have in mind?” Catie asked. “Are we going to scale the walls of Parliament? Break into Mr. Perceval’s office?”

“Don’t be silly,” Josie said. “We won’t have to break in. I have the key.” And she held up a shiny gold key.

“I don’t even want to know how you came into possession of that,” Catherine said, “but I fail to see how breaking—”

“I told you that I have the key.”

“Very well, I fail to see how entering the prime minister’s office without permission in the middle of the night will secure Valentine the Cabinet post.”

“That’s because you have no imagination,” Ashley said. “And it’s not the middle of the night. It’s almost dawn. By the time we reach Perceval’s office and let ourselves in, he will be on his way. When he arrives, he’ll have no choice but to see us. Then we can convince him that he’ll do the country a grievous wrong if he does not appoint Lord Valentine.”

Catherine looked at Maddie, usually her most sensible cousin. “And you agree with this plan?”

Maddie shrugged. “What other choice is there? If Valentine does not receive the post, then it’s as though Elizabeth and your father and everyone who wishes you ill has won.”

“It’s time we reversed fortunes,” Ashley said.

Catherine had no illusions that this plan would work. Why, they looked like a bunch of vagabonds. The night watchmen would probably arrest them before they made it two blocks. But she looked back at Valentine’s dark town house, thought of him sleeping inside, and knew she had to try. Besides, her cousins were right. It was time for a reversal of fortune.

“After we see the prime minister, we have to find the reporter from the
Times
who was at the ball,” she said, moving forward to take the lead. Her cousins followed as she started down the walk. “We may have to persuade him to change his story.”

“He’ll change it,” Josie said, patting her hip. “You leave that to me.”

Lord, Catherine hoped that was not a cutlass at Josie’s hip, though for once, she could use the help of a pirate.

Quint was dreaming about his wife. He was dreaming about pulling her warm body to his and sinking into her. Groggily, he reached for her. And felt empty space.

He opened his eyes. “Catie?”

No answer.

He rose and padded across the room, through the dressing room, and into her room. No sign of her, except—

He lifted his tailcoat from the top of her bed, then looked at the window. It was open. The sun was just rising above London, and somehow Quint knew his wife was out there. He swore. He didn’t have time to search for her this morning. She was probably at the assembly rooms, supervising the cleanup, but he could not stop by to check. He had an appointment with Perceval at eight, and he did not want to be late. After last night, he intended formally to withdraw
his application for the position and concede to Fairfax.

Quint fully expected a dressing-down from the prime minister for the events of the ball. He’d made the government look foolish, particularly the article that would surely make the day’s papers. Hell, he’d stolen Perceval’s coach. Quint deserved a stern lecture, and he was prepared to take his lumps.

He’d take them and ask for more. He didn’t care. He had Catherine, and that was all that mattered. One look from her, and everything became clear. He’d been such a fool. How had he not seen immediately that Catherine was the only thing that mattered? He dressed quickly, thoughts of Catherine never far from his mind. Why would she go to the assembly rooms so early? Would the servants have even arrived yet?

As he waited for his carriage to be brought around, he paced his foyer. What if she had not gone to the assembly rooms? He remembered the open window in her bedroom and swore again. Suddenly, he needed that carriage urgently. He had a very bad feeling that his Catie was trying to help.

“I really think this is a bad idea,” Catie whispered from the prime minister’s darkened office.

“Why?” Ashley said. She was sitting in the chair behind his desk, feet propped up before
her. “Isn’t it Mr. Perceval’s job to make decisions for our country? We’re helping him do that.”

“Maybe we should split up,” Catie said. “All four of us here might be too much. Perhaps Maddie and I could stay and you and Josie could go to the office of the
Times
.”

“Not a chance,” Josie said, letting the curtain she was holding aside fall back into place. “Once we leave, you’ll convince Maddie this was a bad idea, and you’ll be gone.”

“This
is
a bad idea,” Maddie muttered. She was sitting on the edge of a chair beside the desk. Her hands were clamped in her lap. “I don’t need to be convinced of that.”

“Shh. I hear something!” Josie ran to the door and pressed her ear against it.

Catherine pushed a hand against her stomach. It bubbled and churned with panic. One, two, three…

“He’s coming,” Josie said, and all four girls quickly arranged themselves in the chairs before his desk. Then the door opened, and Spencer Perceval strode inside. He was followed by two aides and Mr. Hudson, the reporter from the
Times
. At least that would be one less stop on this ill-advised expedition.

Perceval halted in midstride halfway across his office. Catherine figured it took him that long to spot them because the room was dim.

“What the hell is this?” he demanded. He
stopped abruptly, and one of the aides bumped into him.

“Ah—” Catherine tried to speak, but nothing more would come out.

Ashley jumped in. “We’re here on a diplomatic mission, Mr. Perceval.”

“A what?”

“Well, maybe that’s not exactly what it is,” Josie said, “but we need to talk to you.”

“Then make an appointment with my secretary.” He strode to the chair behind his desk and began straightening papers. “Now, get out.”

“Sir, if you could just give us one moment of your time. We’ve gone to a great deal of trouble to be here.” That was Maddie.

“I’ll say. How the hell did you get inside?”

“Sir, would you like me to fetch someone?” one of the aides asked.

“I—” Perceval was staring at Maddie. He narrowed his eyes. “Wait a moment. You’re Lord Castleigh’s daughter.” He looked at Ashley. “You’re Sir Gareth’s girl. And Miss Hale and”— he nodded at Catherine—“Lady Valentine. What are you ladies doing here? I thought you were a troop of gypsies.”

Catherine finally found her voice. “I know how we must look, but if you’ll just hear us out, we won’t ever bother you again. It’s a matter of great importance.”

“Let me guess. It has to do with your husband.”

Quint ran through the halls, sliding around the corner and into the prime minister’s office. Immediately, he noticed there was no secretary to stop him, no aide working at his desk. The door to the prime minister’s office was open, and he could hear a woman’s voice.

Catherine’s voice.

Quint rushed forward, then paused just inside the door. No one saw him. Hudson from the
Times,
the prime minister, Perceval’s aides, and Catherine’s three troublesome cousins were all looking at her.

“So you see,” she was saying, “Lord Valentine really does want the position. More than anything.”

Quint opened his mouth to protest, but no words came. There was something in Catherine’s voice that pierced him through to his soul. God, her actions here were rash and ill-advised, but she wanted to help. She cared enough about him to come here, dressed like a vagabond, and plead for him. He’d never known anyone to do something like this for him.

“He only pulled out because he was afraid this man”—she pointed at Hudson—“would write something bad about me. But I don’t care. I’d rather Quint took the post. He’s the best man for the job.”

Quint’s gut twisted. She really had faith in him, and she was wiling to sacrifice her own reputation to ensure he had his career. His bloody
career that meant so little to him compared to her. He didn’t deserve her.

The prime minister glanced at the reporter. “Is that true, Mr. Hudson? Did you threaten to print a negative article about Lady Valentine?”

“No! Well, not exactly, sir.”

Perceval held up an imperious hand. “We will talk later, Mr. Hudson.” He looked back at Catherine and sat back in his chair. “This doesn’t change the fact that Valentine stole my carriage.”

“It was a rash decision,” Catherine answered quickly. “And a rare one. Please don’t hold that against him. He has worked so hard for this position. He wants it more than anything else in the world.”

“That’s not true,” Quint said. He couldn’t allow her to continue. This was not her battle, and he wouldn’t let her fight it for him. All heads swiveled to stare at him.

“Quint,” Catherine gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“He has an appointment,” one of the aides remarked, consulting a paper.

Quint strode forward and took his wife’s hands. They were as warm as her honey hazel eyes. He wanted to take her in his arms and keep her there forever. “The true question, Catie, is why are you here? I came this morning to tell Mr. Perceval that I don’t want the position. It doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

“But you’ve worked so hard for it.”

He cupped her face. God, was anything as precious to him as she? He loved her so much now it almost hurt. “Meaningless work when it took me away from you. I belong with you, Catie. I love you.”

He heard a sob and saw Madeleine dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. She waved his attention back to Catherine. His wife’s eyes were filled with tears as well. “Do you mean that?” Catherine whispered. “Do you really love me?”

“With all my heart. I’ve never loved any woman until I met you.”

Catherine launched herself into his arms, holding him so tightly he lost his breath. “I love you, too. You know I love you.”

“Well,” the prime minister said, banging on his desk, “now that we have that established, can I get back to work?”

“Absolutely,” Quint said. “Just one more thing.” And then he bent to kiss the woman he loved.

Article from the
Times
by Mr. Hudson

PERCEVAL CHOOSES

NEW CABINET MINISTER

“That’s a lovely article,” Catherine said. “I have it memorized now, but there is still one question I need answered.”

Quint tossed the paper aside and leaned back in bed, beside his warm, naked wife. “And what is that, sweetling?”

“Will you take the position? You know I want you to.”

“I am thinking about it,” he answered, pulling her close and reaching under the covers, “but I think I may need one more dose of your excellent persuading.”

“Then you shall have it, Mr. Cabinet Minister.”