Twice the Temptation (36 page)

“No, Missy wrote that they would return to the manor first. James may very well end up traveling to London ahead of them. Indeed, sometimes I believe my sister-in-law suffers through the Season for my sake alone.” 

“Oh fiddlesticks,” Meghan exclaimed, dismissing the remark. “Lady Windmere is more than happy to do it, after all, she must be in London in any case. She goes where Lord Windmere goes. Everyone knows they cannot be without each other. And what else is she to do in London while he spends his days and sometimes evenings in those tedious parliamentary meetings?” 

“With four children to tend to and a household to run, I’m quite sure she isn’t sitting about twiddling her thumbs,” Olivia remarked wryly. 

“Well that is neither here nor there. All you—” Meghan looked pointedly at Catherine “—need care about is that the family will not be arriving for the next sennight, which will give you the time you need with Mr. Beaumont unencumbered.” 

“That is should I be able to get Lucas alone,” Catherine said, careful to keep her voice low. Not that there was any danger of anyone overhearing their conversation. Their ladies maids and chaperones were intent on their respective conversations, paying she and her friends little mind. The other passengers waiting were widely dispersed along the platform in groups numbering two and three, not many it appeared, would be traveling in the first-class section. 

“But of course you’ll be able to get him alone. It has been four days. As we speak, the man is probably suffering from a hideous case of Catherine withdrawal.” Meghan’s smile was all affection and encouragement. 

Olivia’s eyes—currently violet not blue in the spectrum of colors—narrowed as she shifted her gaze to Meghan. “You know, I believe my brother is perfectly correct in his assessment of you.” 

Catherine had never seen a head snap back or eyes go wide as quickly as her friend’s did. Then as if Meghan realized the violence of her response, she did her best to temper it. “And just what does that mean?” she asked archly. 

“He remarked that your benevolence towards Mr. Beaumont does not appear to extend to
certain
males of your acquaintance. Listening to you a moment ago, I was also struck by the same thought. You are quite sympathetic to his cause, as one might say. From that, I can only imagine that you weren’t as kind to my brother.” 

Meghan inhaled an outraged breath. “Your brother did not—” 

Catherine held her breath waiting for her friend to continue and she imagined Olivia was dangling on tenterhooks as well. 

Meghan closed her mouth and angled her head away. The shrill whistle of the train grew closer and the platform vibrated gently beneath their feet. 

“My brother did not what?” Olivia probed. 

“Nothing. Nothing,” Meghan answered with the finality of jail doors closing behind a man set to hang. 

Olivia appeared to take her reply in stride. “Yes well, I guess it doesn’t really matter now. Rhys has set his mind to marrying Miss Bromwell and my father fully approves of the match.” 

Catherine had nothing against Miss Bromwell although she was a little young and came across as painfully naïve. 

Meghan jerked her gaze back to them, her green eyes flashing, her dark, manicured eyebrows drawn together. “Miss Bromwell? But she is just a child. Barely out of the schoolroom. That would be like leading a lamb to slaughter. A girl like that would be wholly incapable of handling a man like your brother.” 

“Young? She is twenty years last month, only four years younger than your or I. And while she may be a tad naïve, she is a lovely girl.” 

“She is malleable,” Meghan protested. 

“And what is wrong with that?” Olivia asked. 

Meghan looked at Catherine as if to elicit her opinion. Catherine wasn’t sure what Olivia was doing but Meghan’s reaction to the news solidified everything she had suspected concerning her friend’s true feelings toward Rhys. 

“I agree with Olivia. Miss Bromwell is a lovely young woman. As long as the principals are happy with it, who are we to say otherwise. Who are we to object? We will not be living with the woman,” Catherine said lightly. 

If one had blinked, they would have missed the glimmer of cunning in Olivia’s eyes, it was barely perceptible. She nodded at Catherine as if they were two allies in a battle where wits and artfulness were the preferred weapons of choice. 

For two heartbeats, Meghan stared at them before saying blithely, “You are quite right. It doesn’t really matter two figs to me. I was simply pointing out issues that may arise in regard to their compatibility.” 

Meghan then smiled and it appeared more strained than the footman at the onset of a house party where the guests’ baggage numbered two and three each. “Let us discuss more important matters. For instance, our plans on how you are going to convince that American of yours that he simply cannot live without you.” 

The butterflies took up flight in her belly. In the days since Lucas left, they’d gone over the various means she might employ to get him to forgive her and garner his favor once again. Olivia favored the direct approach, which entailed a fair amount of groveling. Meghan, on the other hand, was bent more on seduction. The debate had been lively with various scenarios tossed about. 

Catherine had finally settled on simplicity and honesty. She would send him a letter requesting a meeting. Should he agree to that, the rest would depend on his overall demeanor—in other words, she’d revert to the latter if the former failed. She must do what she must with her very happiness at stake. 

“And before I forget,” Olivia interrupted. “I received a note from Miss North. She has a young lady who requests our assistance. She wishes that I meet with her tomorrow and settle the matter at Lady Summerville’s after-Easter ball two days hence. I replied that I didn’t see that to be a problem.” 

Catherine got a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, the prospect of this test on the heels of what she’d just done to Lucas had her rethinking their methods. 

Meghan regarded her quizzically as if sensing her apprehension. “What is it, Katie?” 

“I don’t know. Now the whole thing just doesn’t feel right.” 

“You do see that this is different than what we did to your Mr. Beaumont, do you not?” 

Catherine chided Meghan with a look. Were their methods that far removed from how she’d attempted to deceive Lucas?  

“I believe what you must ask yourself is who is injured in this? Surely not the gentleman who would dally with a woman when he is courting another. You’ve always said that you believe it’s a woman’s right to know the true character of the man she plans to marry if she so desires.” 

Catherine had heard it all before. Indeed, the whole thing had started with her and a small request from Miss Claremont. But now…  

She sighed. 

“And unlike other services requiring payment with profit their only purpose, ours is purely philanthropic. While there are the women who take to the streets with billboards and rally Parliament to change the laws—God Bless the suffrage movement—there are also women like us whose efforts are far more subtle yet no less meaningful when it comes to a woman’s emotional well-being within the bounds of marriage.” 

Catherine shook her head, confused more than ever now for she truly believed the things of which she’d been reminded. “I simply do not know if I can continue flirting and playing the coquette with the purpose of getting men I don’t care for to proposition me.” 

“We certainly would not expect you to continue after you become betrothed to your Mr. Beaumont, don’t you agree, Olivia?” Meghan asked, with a glance at their friend. 

Olivia shook her head. “But of course not.” 

A single lady could cast a broad flirtatious net as long as the men were not married or formally engaged. That was not the case for women similarly committed. But Catherine hadn’t been referring to her now-uncertain betrothal to Lucas, she meant now. 

“But I truly believe we are providing the woman a valuable service. No, we are not curing the world of disease or building a school for the poor like you and your brother,” Meghan said smiling, admiration shining in her eyes. “God rest her soul, but when my mother married my father, women had little say when it came to choosing a husband. They were told whom they would marry, and things like affection and love didn’t very much enter into it. It is now 1865 and it is much more acceptable that people—
women
—marry for love. Our queen loved her husband so much that she refused to leave her residence for an entire decade. Do the rest of us not deserve to experience such a love? Let us face facts, a gentleman’s claims of love for one woman—his future wife—cannot be believed if he is bedding another. For whatever reason he chooses to marry her, love doesn’t factor into his decision.” 

“Catherine, how do you feel now? Now that Mr. Beaumont has turned you down thinking you were Charlotte?” Meghan asked. “Don’t tell me that you don’t feel a great sense of relief now that your fears have been laid to rest?” 

“Yes, but—” 

“I grant you, your situation with Mr. Beaumont required that he be deceived but that was a very particular circumstance that couldn’t be accomplished without the masquerade. Apart from that, we deceive no one. We smile, we flirt, we comport ourselves like many of the ladies do. How the gentlemen react to us is beyond our control.” Meghan glanced again at Olivia. “Do you not agree with me?” 

Olivia only hesitated for a moment before she nodded. “Miss Knight thanks me every time she sees me. She is very happy with Lord Crenshaw and doesn’t regret her decision to reject Lord Sutherland’s suit.” 

Suffice it to say, five months ago, Lord Sutherland had followed Olivia to the terrace and Lord Crenshaw had not. The decision hadn’t been a difficult one to make for the current Lady Crenshaw. 

Meghan gave an understanding smile. “Let us do this. You shan’t be party to this particular test. The situation with your Mr. Beaumont is clearly too fresh in your mind and has clearly had an unsettling effect on you. Olivia and I will take care of it.” 

Catherine nodded, grateful for the reprieve. She didn’t want to disappoint her friends, as she had been the one who had gotten them started on this. 

“Wonderful. Now that that has been resolved, you must tell us what you plan to say in your letter to Mr. Beaumont?” Olivia said. “I suggest you begin with the apology and request the meeting after. You might say you’d welcome the opportunity to give it to him in person.” 

Meghan’s opposition came with a decisive frown at her friend. Her tone was almost scolding when she rebutted, “Have you forgotten that she’s already begged for his forgiveness and his response was to quit the place before dawn the day after?” She addressed Catherine. “No, if you offer an apology then what incentive does he have to grant you an audience if his anger has yet to abate. I should tell him you need to speak with him on a matter that is of utmost importance. The more urgent the message sounds, the more inclined he will be to agree to come I should think. I firmly believe—” 

The approaching train drowned out whatever else Meghan would have said, effectively halting their discussion. 

Some twenty minutes later the three women sat in the first class section, Olivia and Meghan’s two chaperones occupied seats two rows behind. 

Catherine had come to a decision, which required a change of plans. She quietly laid out the new plan to her friends and this, they unanimously agreed, was absolutely the best one yet.  

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
F
IVE
 

“Y
ou’ve been lazing about the place for days now. What on earth is wrong with you?”

This was becoming an irritating habit. 

Lucas looked up from his desk and turned to observe his brother standing in the doorway of his study. As usual, his brother appeared to be on his way out, locks of dark-blond hair hung down on his forehead. He was attired in riding clothes, which meant he was off to Rotten Row in Hyde Park with his beloved. 

“I would hardly call this lazing about,” Lucas said, dropping his gaze to the papers he’d been staring sightlessly at the past ten minutes. “I am working. I thought that was obvious.” 

Patrick entered the room, his shadow falling over the desk, but Lucas did not look up. 

“From your appearance, I take it you have a riding engagement with Miss Shipley,” Lucas said. 

“You haven’t been out of this house—barely out of this study—since your little trip to the country. Are you finally going to tell me why you returned early from the house party? Has it anything to do with Miss Rutherford?” 

Lucas scowled at that. Why did his brother always tie his dark moods to Catherine? Was he so transparent? “You fail to remember, I still have a company to run,” he said, looking up into his brother’s accessing gaze. 

“Franks is managing it now. And quite proficiently I might add,” Patrick said dropping into the chair in front of the mahogany desk.