To Love A Lord of London (Wardington Park; Raptures of Royalty) (10 page)

S
ix Months Later

“
W
e are in company
,” Amy hissed in her husband’s ear while she moved his hand away from her waist, hoping no one could see their tussling from behind the table. The wedding had just finished, and they were now at the wedding breakfast. “Act civilized.”

“How can one be civil with such...” And then his eyes had to audacity to roam over her as though they hadn’t just married in a church. “Such—”

“Shh.” She couldn’t handle this man. She loved him so. “You’ll embarrass me. Now, have patience my husband.”

His green glittering eyes were playful as ever. Shameless, irresistible man. “Usually those words are finished with a promise of reward.”

Amy turned away and focused—tried to focus on the other people at their table. His brothers, Andrew and Mark were there and so were her bridesmaids, Jane and Catherine. She’d asked her cousin, but Christa had made plans to leave the country, deciding to go somewhere outside of London ballrooms. Away from her parents. Amy couldn’t blame her.

Andrew and Catherine, who happened to be sitting next to one another, were fighting… again.

Amy asked Andrew, as she once again removed his arm. “All right, now you must tell me what is going on with your brother and Catherine?”

“
T
hey are to be married
.”

News to her. Her eyes wide. She couldn’t see them getting along at all. “When?”

“He’s to propose by her twenty-fifth birthday.”

“Why?” She swatted at him.

He looked up at her, “He promised he would.”

Amy’s face softened, “He did?”

Nathaniel nodded slowly, “They are… were in love once.”

She looked at them again, seeing the marquess and the woman in new light. They fought horribly. “Do you think it will actually happen?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he whispered. “A marquess always keeps his word.”

A
nd then he was there
. Lord Andrew Dawnton. His hands hovering over her shoulders. Not touching her yet, she could still feel them. She closed eyes as his fingers made contact.

H
is head came
near hers as he whispered in her ear, “What are you doing, Cat?”

“What do you mean?” Catherine whispered.

“With William. What are you doing?”

She sighed. “He wishes to court me.”

“No.” Andrew turned her around, forcing her eyes to meet his. “He doesn’t plan to court you. Not the real you.”

She had to ask. “The real me?”

His fingers trailed up her neck, stopping on the edge of her hair. “How long do you think you can keep this up? Your little meek and mild charade. This isn’t you.”

“Maybe you don’t know me.” Then her eyes went wide. The retort had come so quickly.

Andrew grinned. “I think I know you better than anyone else.” He leaned forward, as though planning to kiss her.

And Catherine wanted the kiss. Her very being whispered throughout her every limb that she needed this kiss. But, right before his lips touched hers, she ducked away and moved to the other side of the room.

He shall take no more liberties, the dowager had told her. Every liberty only gives him strength and you weakness.

           
A
nd Catherine Croftman
was done with being weak...

B
edfordshire
, England

C
atherine Croftman pulled
her cloak tighter around her arms, shivering—not because of the cool weather of early winter, but for the emotions that played in her heart. The forest was dark, with only slight glimpses of the moon for guiding light. Catherine, though, didn’t need light. So engraved in her mind and spirit was the place she searched for, she could have found her destination blindfolded. A place she’d visited often under the secrecy of night. For almost twenty-three years, she’d walked the trees that lined the back of her family’s property, but tonight would be the first time she’d done so in almost five years. Five years, yet it felt just like yesterday.

Up ahead, she watched as the lantern she’d lit just hours ago swung in the wind. Walking toward it, she looked around. Not seeing anyone else, her heart dropped. Approaching the lantern, she watched for a moment. A bright light shone against the black. A symbol of hope. A dream she hoped would come true. She reached up to the light and was stunned when a gloved hand covered hers. The hand was large, completely engulfing her own, making her feel small, though with her height, she was far from that.

The heat of the male body behind her began to seep into her cloak, past the dress she wore, and into her very bones. His hand closed around hers and pulled it away from the light, forcing her to keep it on and then spinning her around until their eyes met.

T
he Marquess of Clariant
.

A dark set of green eyes stared down at her, his mouth set in a grimace. He was upset. Apparently, he didn’t want to be here. Surely, he’d rather be anywhere else. All that mattered to Catherine was that he had come. He was here. He’d showed. It had to mean something.

“Why have you lit that light?”

That light? This light? Their light?

Catherine took a shaky breath to calm herself. “I wanted to see you.”

He released her hand, and she felt the loss. His gaze held hers tightly, steadily. “Why?”

Her heart raced so quickly, she feared it would burst. “I turn twenty-three in two months.”

He opened his mouth and then shut it. He frowned but then relaxed his face. “I know.”

S
he took another breath
.

They both remained silent, staring at one another. His eyes looked patiently down at her, and Catherine took advantage of it. “How’s your brother?” She didn’t have to specify which brother she spoke of. Out of the three Dawnton brothers, only one had married. The middle one. Nathaniel. He’d also been the worst rake in London. However, love had changed him.

A glimmer of something warm flashed in Andrew’s eyes before it vanished, swept away with the wind. Still, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. He had curly dark blonde hair underneath his hat, yet she knew of the waves that lay there, hidden from the rest of the world. She remembered running her gloveless hands through it when they kissed. She remembered how he would smile at her, the edges of his eyes would tipping up on the sides, making him look equally beautiful and masculine. A slight grin touched his perfect lips when he said, “He’s quite happy.”

“I hear marriage can do that to a man.” She spoke before she’d thought better of it.

He frowned, and Catherine stilled herself for the impact of his words. “Yes, when one is in love. Things can change.”

He didn’t love her. Was that what he was implying?

C
atherine bit her lip
.

His eyes drifted to the action. He may not love her, but he remembered.

Perhaps she could use that to her advantage. She placed a hand on his arm and was shocked when he reeled back as though she’d burned him.

“Why did you burn the light? Why’d you light the lantern?” Their lantern. The one they’d been lighting for one another ever since they were children. She at twelve, he fifteen. It was their light. Could he really not know why she’d lit it after all these years? Perhaps he did and simply wished to forget it all. To forget her.

“Andrew.”

His jaw hardened, and he looked away briefly before turning back to her. Then he waited.

She gave him what he wished for. “Are you going to marry me or not?”

“Not.”

Catherine’s eyes went wide, “Andrew.”

He stared unmoved, only hurting her more. “We were children, Catherine. They were only words.”

T
he words stung
. “And when you kissed me at one and twenty and I was eighteen? And when you told me that you loved me? Were we simply children then as well?”

Andrew looked away.

She closed her eyes, remembering those words, remembering that they’d always been more than just that. “You’re a marquess. You must keep your word.”

He stepped close to her then, almost touching his chest with her own. His face hovered inches from hers. “And is that what you wish to do? Force yourself into a loveless marriage?”

Loveless marriage.

She shook her head, not understanding his anger at her. “Drew.”

“Stop calling me that.” A warning in the form of a whisper.

She frowned, “I’ve always called you that. Ever since we were children.”

A darkness sat in his eyes. “Well, we’re not children anymore, are we?”

S
he took a step back
. He still hated her. After all this time, he was still upset, and there was nothing she could do to undo it. She had believed that time would make things better, but as she stared at the man she wanted more than air, she knew it was not true. He would always hate her, and she would have to move on. “No, we’re not children.”

“Don’t light that lantern again. I will not return.” Then his back was to her, and he was moving back toward his home, away from the spot that separated their family properties. Separating their hearts with every step he took. Leaving hers broken.