Mrs. Langley curtsied and exited the room. Alaric risked a glance at Catherine. The smile had disappeared from her face, and her brow was furrowed as she watched the governess leave.
“I take it you still have your reservations about the woman.” Alaric rubbed his neck.
“She is here to tend to Oliver; he has to come first.”
“She was trying to be helpful, Catherine. She is working in a great house with a duke and duchess; doubtless, she is eager to leave a good impression. She seems perfectly competent to me.”
“And this has nothing to do with her offering to make you a medicinal tea that does not taste like medicine, right?”
“If she can, that will only demonstrate her competence.” Alaric shrugged. “Besides, if it works, we know that the next time Oliver is unwell, we will have something to help him.”
“It was easier to convince him to drink the tincture than you.” Catherine gave him a sidelong look. “All I had to do was promise him cake.”
“Perhaps you would have me be a more malleable subject if you had offered me the same.” Alaric gave her an overly innocent look as he spread his hands wide. “Though I am rather more partial to biscuits or whiskey than I am to cake.”
“I am not going to bribe a grown man into looking after himself.” Though Catherine’s voice was stern, Alaric could see the smile she was trying to hide.
“It is not bribery, it is an incentive.” He chuckled. “When the cure is worse than the poison, one needs all the help one can get. If you were ill, I would not make you drink it.”
“You would not have to.” Catherine countered, taking a step toward him. “I would just do it.”
Alaric arched an eyebrow at her, answering her step with his own. “Easy enough to say when there is no way of putting it to the test.”
“Are you saying I am not a woman of my word?” Catherine tilted her head toward him. “I thought you trusted me.”
“I do.” Alaric closed the distance between them, her blue eyes drawing him to her like magnets. “But no man alive wouldchooseto drink that.”
“Then it is lucky for you I am no man.” Catherine’s eyes danced.
Alaric’s heart thumped, his muscles tense even as a low chuckle escaped his throat. “I am well aware of that, Duchess. I still do not think you would drink it.”
Catherine’s lips parted, and all the moisture vanished from Alaric’s mouth.
“I suppose we shall just have to wait and see.” Catherine’s voice was breathless as she stepped away from him, her hands smoothing her dress.
Alaric felt as if an unfamiliar hand had suddenly released the pressure on his chest. The scent of lavender filled the space between them, and he inhaled it deeply before he even realized what he was doing.
What is wrong with me?
A knock at the door pulled his attention back to the moment, and he turned to find himself facing Mr. Wilkins who had returned the week before and the familiar face of Frederick Hale.
“Hale!” Alaric closed the distance between them before the footman could announce Frederick and clasped his friend’shand in his own, pulling him into an embrace. “It is good to see you.”
For a moment, he felt Frederick stiffen, and then he returned the embrace. “And you, Deverell. Though I am not sure I have ever received such a cryptic summons from you before.”
“Unfortunately, it could not be helped, but now that you are here, we can explain everything.” Alaric gestured for Frederick to come into the room and then dismissed the footman. “Can I get you a drink?”
“I will not say no to some whiskey.” Frederick’s eyes moved from Alaric to Catherine. “A pleasure to see you, Your Grace.”
“And you, Lord Hale.” Catherine moved to stand beside Alaric, and for a moment, he thought she would rest her hand on his arm, but she did not. “Thank you for coming to see us so quickly.”
“It is no problem. I would have been here sooner if I had been at my country estate, but I had been in London enjoying the remainder of the Season.” Frederick fixed Alaric with a frank look, his eyes flashing in the light streaming in from the window. “Now, why not tell me just what is going on? The sorts of rumors flying around about you... For a while, people thought you were dead, that you had been murdered.”
Alaric felt his explanation die on his lips, his mind trained on Frederick’s last words as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. “They thought I had been murdered? By whom?”
Frederick’s cheeks reddened, his eyes flicking to Catherine. Alaric frowned, the memory of Catherine’s entry into the castle flooding into his mind. Understanding dawned on him, and he turned to face her, his voice soft. “Why did you not tell me that thetonthought you had killed me?”
“We had other things to deal with. Besides, you are not dead, and soon enough thetonwill see the proof of that.” Catherine flicked out her fingers as though brushing a piece of fluff from a dress. “It is a rumor; it cannot hurt me.”
