She wasn’t certain whether he was striving to compliment or insult her, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he appeared to recall as many details about that night as she did. “You remember what I was wearing?”
“I remember everything about you that night. You wore pink ribbons in your hair and pearls against your throat.”
“The pearls were my mother’s.”
“You were standing amongst a gaggle of girls, and you stood out not because of your beauty—which far exceeded theirs—but because of your refusal to be cowed. No one has ever challenged me as you do, Catherine.”
“No one has ever intrigued me as you do, my lord.”
She feared they were skirting the edges of flirtation gone too far.
The final strains of the music wafted into silence. Catherine took a deep breath. “I’ve grown rather warm. Would you be so kind as to escort me onto the terrace where the air is cooler?”
“If that is your pleasure.”
She wound her arm around his and strolled through the room, holding her head high, meeting gazes that were quickly averted, watching as her reputation was irrevocably destroyed. Her father would never know, but if—when—her brother returned, he’d be furious. She would deal with the repercussion when it happened.
Once they were outside, she led Claybourne to the corner of the terrace, where they could find a measure of privacy, but were still visible. Her reputation was in tatters but still she held on to what fraying threads she could.
“I have decided not to have you dispense with someone of my choosing. But I am determined to redouble me efforts in convincing Frannie that by your side is where she belongs, and where she’ll be comfortable. I’m convinced that it’s not so much that she needs to be taught, but rather that she simply needs to be accepted, so I intend to change strategy and bring her into this world, slowly but with more success.”
“You’re going to keep your part of the bargain without me keeping mine?”
“As strange as it seems, I feel that in the past few weeks we’ve become…friends of a sort, and I’d like to assist you in your quest for a wife—out of friendship.” Regardless of the cost to herself, which would be high. She thought she’d never come to care for another man as she’d come to care for Claybourne, that she’d never respect another as she respected him, that she’d never be as fascinated by, as impressed with, any other man as she was him.
But his heart had been given elsewhere, while hers, she feared had been given to him.
“That’s extremely generous of you. I hardly know how to thank you.”
“It’s barely anything at all. As you so aptly pointed out the night we struck our bargain, I’m doing little more than instructing her on the proper way to host an afternoon tea.”
“On the contrary, she’s acquiring a confidence under your tutelage that she was lacking before. I almost fear she’ll become as headstrong as you.”
“Do you really want a trifle of a wife? You’d become bored in no time.”
“You think you know what I desire in a woman?”
“I credit myself for knowing what you deserve from a woman. As tonight proved, obstacles remain to be overcome, but I have no doubt you will overcome them.”
“You remind me of the old gent. He never doubted. I never quite understood what he saw in me.”
“He saw his grandson.”
Chapter 16
He saw his grandson.
Luke considered those words as his coach rattled over the cobblestone streets. He’d been wandering aimlessly through London for more than two hours trying to settle his thoughts.
He’d left the affair shortly after Catherine and he had returned to the ballroom. He saw no reason to stay. He suspected no other lady would dance with him, but more than that he had no desire to dance with anyone other than Catherine. And he’d not further risk her reputation by having a second waltz. He’d already placed her reputation at risk with one dance and a turn about the garden. Why was she willing to risk so much simply to see that he was accepted?
Friendship? God knew he’d risked everything—including his life—for his friends.
They’d risked no less than that for him. But Catherine—what did she gain? If he spent any more time in her company, no decent man would take her to wife.
Tonight she’d done away with the purpose for their association. For some reason, she’d decided the bloke wasn’t worth killing. Luke supposed he should be grateful he’d not taken her at her word that first night and done the gent in.
Still, he was bothered by her change of heart. She wasn’t a mindless chit, and she was certainly no one’s fool. If she thought someone needed killing, he most likely did. And there was still the matter of the man who was following her. He needed to have a word with Jim, but first he wanted to see Frannie.
