SoundsofLove (10 page)

Percival ate his entire meal in silence and never glanced at
her or her food. When he’d cleaned his plate, he moved it closer to the meat
platter. “Give me an end piece.”

His bitter tone ended her reverie about Julian, and reminded
her of the cruel twist of fate she’d just been delivered. Coming back to the
sparse room with a deep sigh, she complied woodenly with the rudely spoken
command.

He glanced at her plate. “I’m paying for this meal, and I
want you to eat.” He applied himself to his beef.

“That reminds me,” she said as she picked up her fork. “I’ve
had no word from the Sibley steward for several months.”

“I let him go.” The baron took a long drink of wine and
continued, “I have my own man there now.”

Mr. Smithers had been the highly capable Sibley steward for
thirty years, but Percival knew that and there was no sense stating the
obvious.

“I’ll see you keep getting your checks. We had a bad crop
and Robbie’s been overwhelmed.”

“Robbie?”

“Robert Juslow, the new Hedges’ steward. He’s a former
student of mine.”

“I see.” Doubtless Robbie’s fair hair had been tousled by
Hedges at some point.

“He’s still learning the ropes, but he’ll be fine.”

He finished his beef and moved his plate towards the pie. “I
gave Smithers a fine reference; he’s found a new position in Scotland.”

“Thank you.” It was very odd that Mr. Smithers had not
communicated with her or the Lewins about this arrangement.

She spooned more vegetables onto his plate and sought for
some neutral ground. “How are your studies progressing?”

He warmed immediately. “Exceptionally well. I have some fine
new students, and the translation has moved forward more in a term than in the
last two years.”

“You’re working on the
Acritic Songs
, aren’t you?”
She poured him more wine, and then refilled her own glass.

“
Digenis Acritis
, yes. I’m surprised you remember.”

“It’s a heroic tale, and was a favorite of Geoffrey’s.”

“Of course. He introduced me to it when I was just beginning
at Eton.”

Eton, Julian had been there at the same time as Percival.
Inspiration struck. “I believe Lord Ahlquist mentioned he was also working on
it.”

Percival leapt to his feet and bellowed, “Ahlquist is
working on the
Digenis Acritis
?” His face went red with fury.

She wasn’t sure why she’d lied so boldly, but it felt good
to speak Julian’s name. His alliance gave her strength in the face of Hedges’
sudden rage. “I believe so, but you know how unreliable women are.”

Hedges strode to the far wall and grabbed his hat and coat,
his voice rough. “When did he begin?”

“He didn’t say precisely, some time ago, or perhaps
recently. I don’t recall, he only mentioned it in passing.”

He stuffed his arms into his sleeves, and then seemed to
have a change of heart as he walked back towards her. “When will you see
Ahlquist again?”

“I’m not certain, we have nothing planned.” Lying was coming
easier to her now. She hoped to see the earl this very night.

“I want you to find out everything you can about his
translation, particularly how far along he is, and who is helping him.”

“I barely know the man.”

Percival strode over to her and yanked her out of her seat
by both arms, wrenching her shoulders painfully. Anger seethed out of his
pores. “Tumble him if you have to, but get me the damned information soon.” He
shook her as if to register his message and then shoved her back into her seat,
knocking the air from her lungs.

Three long steps took him to the door, where he turned and
hissed, “We marry at Christmas in Christ Church.”

She shook her head violently, but he was gone, slamming the
door behind him as she regained her breath. She spoke to the empty room. “How
did Geoffrey ever think we were suited?” Her hands shook as she poured herself
the rest of the wine and gulped down half a glass. “I may be barren, but I can
do better than the likes of you.” Staring into the fire, seething with hatred
for the man she was contracted to wed, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Laughter won. “Tumble Julian for you?” She chuckled at the
irony. “That’s one order I will gladly obey.” She finished her drink and rose. “The
only one.”

The innkeeper knocked gently before entering, “Is everything
well, baroness?”

She laughed again, but it felt false this time. “I’m not
certain.” Tears threatened to follow, so she busied herself straightening her
cloak. “The meal was delicious, thank you. Did the baron pay you?”

“No, milady, but he has a credit.” He lifted her bonnet from
its peg and handed it to her. “Will you be staying the night, milady?”

She put on her bonnet and tied the ribbons, anxious to get
to the truth. “No, we will return to London immediately.”

I need to speak with my housekeeper.

* * * * *

Violet was in the parlor when Cathryn arrived home, and the
details of the Oxford disaster were quickly relayed. Before Violet could even
defend her brother, the slender, gray-haired Edna entered and gave a slight
curtsy. “You sent for me, milady?”

Cathryn pushed aside the panic and dread she’d wrestled with
for five hours. “Yes, Mrs. Lewin.” Her throat thickened and she paused to clear
it. “I’m afraid there is no good way to ask this question, and I dearly wish it
did not need to be asked, but it must.” She took a deep breath and blurted, “Is
Molly Sir Geoffrey’s daughter?”

Edna’s face crumpled and her lean shoulders sank. “I’m so
sorry, milady.”

“It’s true, then?” Cathryn’s hands dropped to her belly. She
was barren. Julian was lost to her. The air seemed to shudder with her
disappointment.

“It might be.” Edna’s hands began shaking, and her voice was
a whisper.

The uncertainty took a moment to register through Cathryn’s
fog of despair, and it was Violet who asked, “What do you mean?”

Cathryn stood rooted to the floorboards, glad for her
friend’s intervention.

Edna looked ready to cry, and Violet took her arm. “Come sit
down and tell us what you can.”

“Oh, don’t be kind to me, either of you.” Edna shook Violet
away. “I was weak.” She backed towards the door. “I married Nathan, and I lay
with another man. I will burn for my sins.” She faced the door and sobbed into
her hands.

So. There was no way to know for certain about Molly. Hope
flickered and the fog dispersed. A bitter mix of anger, disappointment, and pity
took hold, and Cathryn barely recognized her voice when she spoke. “Edna, I
need to ask you another question.”

Edna’s sobs stilled as she turned to face her mistress. All
three women trembled as they struggled to maintain their composure.

Cathryn simply had to know. “Did you and Geoffrey…continue…after
he and I married?”

Edna’s sobs started anew. “Mondays.”

The word hung in the air, and Cathryn turned away to stare
out the window.

Geoffrey had come to her bed every Friday evening for four
years, unless it was her women’s time. The prospect that he had spent every
Monday in Edna’s slim arms was a devastating blow to her pride.

“I’ll pack my things, milady.”

“No.” Somehow, she wasn’t angry with Edna. She was furious
with Geoffrey, but Edna seemed more a victim than a temptress. And there were
pieces to this puzzle that only Edna could provide. “You had no more children
after Molly.”

“She was a hard birth. My monthly cycle ended after…”

Cathryn wanted to ask more personal items—where did you and
Geoffrey meet on Mondays? How could Geoffrey betray his vows?

Instead, she stayed with practical matters. “Does Nathan
know?”

“We don’t speak of it.”

“Then there’s no need to mention it now.” Cathryn walked
over to the window seat and sank down onto the cushion. “I need to consider all
of this. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“I’m dreadfully sorry, my lady. I never meant for you to
know.”

Cathryn shot her a wry look, not certain how to take the
well-intended perfidy. “Sir Percival told me.”

“I hope you don’t marry him, milady.”

“I would move to the colonies before I became his wife.”

There was an awkward silence before Violet spoke
confidently. “Lord Ahlquist won’t let that happen.”

As if he’d heard her, three loud knocks echoed up the
stairwell.

Julian had arrived.

Cathryn filled with panic. “I need a minute, but don’t send
him away.”

Violet nodded and ushered a defeated Edna out the door. Both
women appeared as devastated as she, their heads hung low, their gaits
sluggish. There was some comfort in sharing her misery.

Julian’s booming voice rose up from the foyer as he greeted
Lewin, and it stirred Cathryn from her seat. She straightened her skirt as she
headed for the looking glass.

She looked positively wretched. She must have been dragging
her fingers through her hair, because half her pins were loose. Her eyes were
rimmed red from the silent weeping she had done on the ride from Oxford, and
the tears that still hovered. She retrieved a handkerchief from her pocket and
wiped her eyes, and then blew her nose. Her hair would have to be redone, she
decided, and hastily extracted her pins. After shaking free her heavy mane of
brown hair, she looked wild, her troubled eyes haunted by the distressing
events of the past six hours. She wished she had an hour to gather herself and
consider the ramifications of Edna’s disclosures, but Julian was here, now.

There was a hairbrush in the drawer of the small table
beneath the mirror, and her hands shook as she retrieved it. She heard Violet
and Julian talking below as she dragged the brush through her unruly locks.
What was she going to say? She wanted to be honest, but that might ruin her
chances for any attachment between them.

This might be the last time she ever saw him.

Her eyes welled anew at that thought. No, she would rather
be his mistress than not be with him at all.

Tumble him if you have to…

Rude words that taunted her. If she was barren, she could tumble
without consequence, and Julian was the right man for the task. Her barely
contained rage at Percival, and Geoffrey, easily trumped her anxiety over her “condition”.

Her fury transformed into another primal emotion. She wanted
to lash out at mankind and seek revenge for herself, and for all women misused
by men. Her body burned to avenge the wrongs heaped on her this day.

She set down the brush and grasped the edge of the table,
starring at her fierce image. She looked more huntress than prey, and the
thought appealed to her.

Julian’s voice on the stairs spurred her, and she bit at her
lips and pinched her cheeks to redden them. There was no time to dress her hair.
He would have to take her as she was.

He must have run up the stairs because his knock on the
parlor door came more quickly than she expected.

“Come in.” Her voice sounded wounded and she stiffened her
resolve. She wanted him, but she was seething with unwelcome rage.

He hovered in the doorway for a moment, his handsome
features clouded by concern. “Are you all right, love?”

He was magnificence itself in his black formal wear, but he
was not strutting at the moment. An intense rush of desire coursed through her,
but she could not move a muscle to respond. She wanted this man, at all costs.

He seemed transfixed by her appearance as he asked, “Did he
hurt you, love?”

She lifted her hand to her left shoulder, which did ache
from Percival’s rough treatment. The man had also wounded her with his
accusations and remarks, so she couldn’t say he had done her no harm. Her voice
came out a breathy murmur. “A bit.”

The full range of negative emotions crossed Julian’s face.
Rage to match her own, frustration, regret and sadness. His hands clenched at
his sides. He suffered the same deep needs as she did—to rip something to
shreds, to avenge wrongs, to make matters right.

He took a deep breath and stepped towards her, wrapping her
in his arms. “I’m going to kill him, but it will have to wait.”

Once she was safely enfolded in his warm embrace, her fury
lessened. Julian would help her make things right. She couldn’t change the
past, but she could face the future with courage. “He’s a dreadful man.” Julian
started to release her, but she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him,
anxious to have the truth between them. “There’s something else. Please, let me
tell you without looking at you.”

He went still, and his heart pounded wildly beneath her
cheek as she collected her thoughts. “Geoffrey was unfaithful to me…throughout
our marriage…and he may have a daughter.” Her distress boiled over and she
began to sob softly into his chest. “I might be barren.”

His arms tightened. “Oh, love, you’ve had a bad accounting
of men today.” He swept her up and carried her across the room to the fire.
Being carried by him was a pleasant distraction from her misery, and she was
feeling distinctly better when he sat on the settee and settled her on his lap.
“Let me make amends for our deficiencies.”

He brushed the hair away from her face, and scanned her, as
if looking for signs of abuse. With a small smile, he kissed her lips gently. “Tell
me about Hedges. How did he hurt you?”

Cradled in Julian’s arms, she felt safe. “He grabbed me by
the shoulders and shook me, then he shoved me back into my seat.” She rubbed
her left shoulder. “I’m a bit tender, but nothing to be concerned over.”

“I’ll send the Ahlquist physician over in the morning.”

“Thank you.” She leaned her head on his chest and stared into
the fire.

“What was Hedges angry about?”

She couldn’t help a chuckle at the memory of Percival’s
reaction to her falsehood. “I told him you were working on the same translation
he is—the
Digenis Acritis.
”

Julian didn’t respond for a moment, and it occurred to her
that he might be upset with her, but he soon chuckled himself and said, “Good
girl.”

His chest seemed to be swelling beneath her, and she sensed
he was truly proud of her. She shifted so she could see his eyes. “Do you know
of it?”

He smiled down at her. “I know it slightly, but I know
someone who knows it well.”

“Someone you trust?”

“My brother-in-law. He’s a don at Cambridge.”

Her spirit brightened. “Then it’s not so preposterous that
you could be involved.”

“No, love, you’ve done very well. Now Hedges will come to
me.”

“Yes, I thought we could take him on together this way.” She
brushed his hair back from his face. “He plans to wed me at Christmas.”

Julian caught her hand and kissed her palm and then pressed
it against his face. “That will not happen.”

The heat within her began to rise at his touch and she
smiled. “He told me to tumble you if need be, so I can find out your progress
and report back to him.”

Shock flickered across his face. “He spoke to you such?”

“Yes, as he was grabbing me. He hates you. When he chastised
me for making a scene at the Philological meeting, he mentioned you
specifically, saying you were toying with me—” She stared at him and realized
the truth of Hedges’ words. Julian had been toying with her. His first visit
had been outrageous, bringing her
Fanny Hill
. A tantalizing temptation
to see if she was willing to play his game.

“Wait, please. Start at the beginning and tell me
everything.”

Was he still taking her lightly? She searched his face for
the answer.

“What is it, darling?”

“Why did you bring me
Fanny Hill
?”

His eyes narrowed, and he took a moment to consider his
response. “I found you attractive and available.” He stroked her cheek. “If you
had not been receptive, I would have taken the book home with me.”

“You thought to scare me away from the society meetings,
didn’t you?”

He shrugged lightly. “I was unhappy that you had challenged
me publicly, but once I tasted you…my thoughts became…predatory.” His glowing
eyes reflected her deepest desires, and she wished he would claim her. “I
believe you are the woman for me, Cathryn. The last woman I will ever share
intimacies with.”

There was nothing light about such a declaration. “But, I
could be barren.”

“We have until Christmas to prove Hedges wrong.” His hand
strayed to her breasts and brushed across them, causing all thoughts to flee. “I
will enjoy finishing inside you.”

She flushed at the brazen comment. “I want that, too.”

He bent over her and his hand wandered under her skirts. She
wanted nothing more than to make love with him now, to affirm the good in life.

His lips had just found hers when a knock on the door
interrupted them. She slid from his lap with a regretful sigh. “Come in.”

Violet’s timid voice called out. “So sorry to disturb you,
but—”

“What is it, Vi?”

“The Lewins have all left the house, Cat.” She walked over
towards them slowly, and Cathryn straightened her skirts.

“Edna went to her sister’s, and she took Molly. Nathan left
soon after, and Victor was worried, so he’s gone to look for him.”

Julian looked confused, so Cathryn explained. “Edna Lewin
was Geoffrey’s lover, and Molly may be his daughter.”

“Oh, hell,” he muttered.

“Come sit with us. I was just telling Lord Ahlquist about
Percival.”

Violet headed for the sideboard instead. “Sherry?”

Cathryn and Julian both nodded.

“Your coachmen are in the kitchen.” She poured three glasses
and put them on a small tray, then added the decanter and brought it to the
table in front of the fire.

They each reached for a glass and drained it. Violet
refilled their glasses and then stepped back.

“Cat, I’m so sorry.” She looked down at her with tear-filled
eyes. “I didn’t know, I swear.”

“No, it seems they were very discreet.” Cathryn shifted and
patted the cushion beside her. “Come, join us. This has been a shock for you,
as well.”

Julian moved to the end of the couch and Cathryn held out
her hand. “Please, Violet. I know you thought your brother a saint.”

Violet finished her drink and sat down on the edge of the
cushion. “I never heard a cross word from him, and he seemed so devoted to you.”

Melancholy crept over Cathryn. “And to you. Percival said
Geoffrey and Edna were lovers before Molly was born. I don’t think you or I
share any blame in this affair.”

Violet rose and walked over to the window. “I just feel
awful.”

Cathryn looked at Julian mournfully, uncertain how to
proceed. “Perhaps we should make it an early evening and we can talk on the
morrow.”

He poured her more sherry and handed it to her. “No, ladies,
I cannot concur. If ever there was a time to get socked and go prowling for
trouble, this is it.”

“What on earth do you mean?” Cathryn watched him fill his
own glass.

“I planned to take you to a private party at Vauxhall
tonight, love, and stroll with you down a dimly lit Lover’s Lane.” He raised
his glass with a wicked grin that warmed Cathryn’s heart. “There’s a warm
breeze tonight, and the
ton
have left London.” He drank it all. “And
it’s Sunday, so the pious are at home. I could stop by my club and find a
suitable escort for Mrs. Pickering.”

Violet joined them on the couch, clearly interested in
Julian’s offer. “The new gowns arrived today. Thank you so much, Lord Ahlquist.
Cat, you’re going to love yours.”

Madame Vichy’s stock had included several gowns in Cathryn’s
size nearly finished.

Julian held out his hand, and Cathryn took it as he said, “Living
well is the best revenge.”

His good humor was infectious, and she did want to forget
what she had learned today, if only for a few hours. She began to nod but
stopped when she considered the consequences of being seen with him.

Without giving her an opportunity to change her mind, he
kissed her hand and let it go. “If I stop by the club now, I can be back in an
hour with a friend. Do you have a preference, Mrs. Pickering?”

Violet giggled. “Tall, dark, handsome and rich. A title’s of
little import.”

He chuckled. “I know just the man. He’s American, will that
suit you?”

“Tonight, that would be perfect.”

“Excellent.” He reached the door. “Mrs. Pickering, did you
say the staff are gone?”

“Yes, and it’s Violet, please.”

“And you must call me Julian. Will you ladies need
assistance? Hot water?”

Violet giggled like a schoolgirl. “No, thank you, Julian.
That’s very kind of you to think of our needs.”

“I’ll leave a man here, just in case. He can tend to your
fires, at the least.” He straightened. “Tonight, I will try to anticipate all
your needs, both of you. I’ll be representing the best of the male species, to
try to counteract the balance of your day.” He looked longingly at Cathryn. “I
wish you would leave your hair down.”

She and Violet both laughed. After all he had done for them,
she wished she could, but leaving her hair down would make her look like a lady
of the night.

“It seems the rest of the world has been carrying on without
us, perhaps it is time we had a taste of wickedness,” Violet whispered.

A taste of wickedness was undeniably appealing.

* * * * *

Violet pulled Cathryn’s hair back and fashioned a loose
chignon, then she teased loose several long brown tendrils that fell gracefully
around Cathryn’s bare shoulders, and placed three pins strategically. “There.
It will fall out at the slightest provocation but it’s easy to repair.”

Cathryn laughed as she considered how wicked she had been
the past few days. “You’ve made me look very like this cameo.” The round image
of a Greek woman set against a deep-brown background hung between her breasts.

“It’s the finest sardonyx cameo I’ve ever seen. Ahlquist has
exquisite taste.”

Cathryn stared at her reflection and could scarcely believe
the transformation from an hour before. A touch of rouge on her cheeks and
lips, a hint of kohl on her eyelids and lashes, and the most elegant gown she
had ever owned made her feel like an exotic princess swathed in copper silk.
Tonight she would follow Julian wherever he wanted to take her, and she was
eager to begin the journey.