The Danger in Tempting an Earl Page 11

  Katherine watched the display with an aching heart. She looked at Mr. Goodard, who looked just as depressed as she felt. It was no good. Lucien was clearly smitten and Lady Julie equally so, evident in the way her gaze never veered from Lucien’s.

  Picking up a pair of twigs, Katherine snapped them in half so three of the pieces were of equal length while one was half an inch longer. Her hands were trembling and her heart was beating somewhere closer to her belly than to her chest. Damn her for listening to all the stupid gossip. There was no merit to it, yet it had made her think of Lucien in a new light. Tragically, he clearly didn’t feel the same way about her, or he wouldn’t have been treating Lady Julie as if he’d already begun courting her.

  She felt a hand upon her arm and looked up to find Mr. Goodard staring down at her. “I know it isn’t easy to watch, but you must be strong, my lady.”

  “Perhaps it’s for the best,” she whispered. “I’m not sure I can give him what he wants anyway.”

  “Discussing strategy?” Lucien asked as he approached with Lady Julie on his arm. His eyes met Katherine’s and she instinctively took a step back. There was something fierce in his gaze that quickened her pulse. She didn’t understand it, but it made her wary.

  “Just preparing the straws, or, in this case, twigs,” she said, her voice a little weaker than she would have liked. Holding them in her fisted hand, she extended them so they could each pick a twig.

  “Oh!” Lady Julie squealed with excitement. “Looks like I’ll be hiding.”

  “Me too,” Mr. Goodard said.

  “And I’ll be seeking for the lot of you,” Lucien said as he drew the longest one. “I’ll stay here and count to fifty.”

  Determined not to lose a second of precious time, Katherine hurried through an archway toward the gaping doorway of the keep. All was still within, the air cooler between the confines of the large walls than it had been outside in the sun. Looking up, Katherine saw nothing but clear sky dotted by the occasional cloud. At the far end stood the remains of a staircase that would lead her up inside one of the towers. When Katherine reached it, she started upward, her feet a little unsteady on the steps, which sloped and sagged with age.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  Spinning around with such speed that she nearly lost her balance, Katherine scowled at Mr. Goodard. “What are you doing here?” she whispered.

  He shrugged. “You seemed to know where you were going, so I decided that you probably know of a good spot in which to hide.”

  “But you can’t possibly hide with me. You must find a place of your own,” she insisted as uneasiness claimed her. If Lucien was prepared to turn Mr. Goodard’s steadying hand in the parlor into an amorous embrace, there was no telling what he would think if he found her hiding with Mr. Goodard. Having always valued Lucien’s high regard for her, Katherine hated the thought of disappointing him.

  Mr. Goodard frowned. “I don’t think I’ve enough time for that now, and besides, the rules say nothing about not being allowed to hide in the same location as someone else.”

  “We ought not be alone together,” she said. “It isn’t appropriate.”

  “It’s just a game, Lady Crossby, and since you already know that my intentions lie elsewhere, I daresay you’ve little to worry about. Besides, you’re a widow now and entitled to a little fun. No?”

  Katherine hesitated. She looked toward the doorway of the keep through which Lucien would probably be arriving any minute, and then at Mr. Goodard, who was looking mildly impatient. Taking a deep breath, Katherine made her decision and continued up a few more steps until she knew she was hidden from view. She then seated herself on the chilly stone. Mr. Goodard immediately plopped down next to her. “You ought to have followed Lady Julie instead,” Katherine muttered.

  “I doubt she would be swayed by amorous advances in a ruin,” he said. “She is a debutante after all, and—­”

  “Oh no! I should have stayed with her,” Katherine said, feeling suddenly remarkably guilty about her own determination to get away. She hadn’t spared Lady Julie a thought.

  “So much more reason for you to be thankful that I am here with you and not with her.”

  “But what about Roxberry? If he is hoping to—­”

  “Calm yourself, my lady. Roxberry is a gentleman. He would never do anything untoward.”

  Katherine knew he was right, yet she couldn’t stop her treacherous mind from imagining Lucien and Lady Julie in a lover’s embrace while she sat on these cold steps with Mr. Goodard at her side. It was not the least bit heartwarming.

  As soon as Lucien finished counting to fifty, he set out with the express purpose of finding Katherine as quickly as possible. Seeing her in private discussion with Mr. Goodard had swiftly stirred his ire once more, and he was convinced more than ever that Mr. Goodard was determined to make Katherine his, even if she was unsuspecting of his intentions. Lucien’s pace quickened. He couldn’t lose her to that man.

  Fists clenched, Lucien strode through the archway, where he knew one, possibly two, ­people had gone—­he’d heard their fading footsteps. It didn’t surprise him. The keep had always fascinated Katherine, so he’d suspected from the very beginning that she would choose to hide somewhere in there.

  Entering it, he paused to listen, the flutter of wings catching his ears as a bird darted back and forth. Continuing his progress, he strode to one of the towers and looked up, but found nothing. Perhaps he should climb the stairs? He decided against wasting time on that, for he knew that Katherine would not have forgotten the warning he’d issued when he’d first taken her and Patricia here all those years ago. The building was in decay and had to be treated with respect unless one planned on getting hurt.

  Again he paused to listen, and he became aware of the quiet falling of pebbles, as if part of the structure had just been disturbed. It had come from the opposite tower, and Lucien now hastened toward it, his strides long and determined. As he came closer, however, he heard voices and immediately softened his footfalls.

  “Who knew that we would one day be more than mere acquaintances?”

  Lucien froze as he recognized Mr. Goodard’s voice.

  “Not I, though I daresay Roxberry must have thought we’d get along splendidly.”

  “And why is that?”

  There was a slight pause before Katherine said, “The other night at the ball, he suggested I set my cap for you.” Lucien gritted his teeth as he was once again reminded of his own idiocy. What the hell had he been thinking?

  “Did he really?” Mr. Goodard asked. “But surely he must know that you don’t intend to remarry.”

  Lucien breathed a sigh of relief. If Mr. Goodard was aware of this, then surely he’d stop pursuing her. He reminded himself of the man’s reputation and muttered an oath.

  “Yes, of course he does, but he seems quite determined to see me properly settled again regardless, perhaps because he’s contemplating the matter himself.” She sighed, and Lucien took a quiet step closer. “He’s only just returned, yet I feel as though I’m already losing him again. Once he marries, I’ll see less of him, of this I’m certain.”

  A smile tugged at Lucien’s lips. Katherine cared about him and she wasn’t planning to marry Mr. Goodard. Perhaps there was hope yet.

  “Not to worry,” Mr. Goodard said. “You have me now, and I have every intention of seeing to your happiness.”

  Whatever elation Lucien had just felt plummeted at those words. So there was something between them! They might not be contemplating marriage, but they sure as hell weren’t planning an innocent evening at the theater either—­not when they were hurrying off to hide together like this. Hot anger rushed through his veins. What a fool Katherine must think him that she would imagine he’d believe that ridiculous story of how she’d ended up in Mr. Goodard’s arms. And to think that he’d actually told her Mr. Gooda
rd was amicable! Why, the man was no better than Crossby!

  Placing one booted foot on the bottom step, Lucien dipped his head through the opening of the stairwell and looked up. There, seated right next to each other on the narrow step, were Katherine and Mr. Goodard. Lucien’s hands clenched at his sides. “It appears you’ve been found,” he grumbled. Stepping back, he turned on his heel and walked away.

  Disappointment flared through him, both at himself and at Katherine. She’d denied any wish of becoming a mistress when he’d discussed that possibility with her, yet she seemed quite prepared to do so now. Why? Clearly his little tableau with Lady Julie had been a wasted effort. Katherine still viewed him as a brother figure—­either that, or she simply didn’t find him the least bit attractive, which was not a very flattering notion in the least.

  A pitter-patter of footsteps sounded behind him, then he felt her hand tugging at his arm. “Are you all right?” she asked. “You seem to be in a rotten mood all of a sudden.”

  Pulling his arm free of Katherine’s fingers, Lucien continued on his way. She fell into step beside him. “I don’t understand you,” he said. “When you last spoke of your future, you told me clearly that you have no intention to marry again or that you would ever wish to become a man’s mistress. I cannot believe you would change your mind so quickly on a matter of such great importance.”

  “Lucien, you’re completely mistaken in the assumption that you’re making.” Her voice was thin but sharp.

  Halting, he turned to look at her, his longing for her an acute pain that hugged his soul. Mr. Goodard stood a few paces further away, and as Lucien held his gaze, a potent surge of envy fanned through him. It was raw and it was basic. Lucien closed his eyes, willing it away for fear that he might intentionally harm a man who wasn’t standing across from him on a battlefield. Except this was a battlefield of course, and there was a very real war being waged over Katherine. “So you say, yet I continue to find the two of you together like this. If you were a debutante, I would have to insist the two of you marry. But you don’t want that, do you?” Expelling a deep breath, he said, “You’ll invite scandal if you associate with him in any other capacity than as his wife.”

  A cry for help drifted toward them, preventing Katherine from responding. Lucien raced outside, followed swiftly by Mr. Goodard. They rounded the corner together and peered over a low wall, immediately spotting Lady Julie, who was lying on the ground a little way off, her legs twisted beneath her. “Please see to Lady Crossby’s comfort,” Mr. Goodard said, his voice tight as he clambered over the wall. “I’ll tend to Lady Julie.”

  Lucien hesitated. How remarkably odd of Mr. Goodard to be more concerned with Lady Julie all of a sudden than with Katherine. Knowing that he was supposed to be courting Lady Julie, if only in pretense, Lucien started to protest, then stopped himself. This was what Lady Julie would want—­for Mr. Goodard to run to her rescue. And besides, Lucien had no issue at all with seeing to Katherine in the meantime, in spite of their argument.

  Turning around, he started back toward the keep and found her hurrying toward him. “Is Lady Julie all right?” she asked, her eyes wide with alarm.

  “I believe she’ll be fine.”

  Katherine made as if to move past him, but he stayed her with his hand. “I ought to go to her,” she said. “Lady Julie is an innocent, and as you say, Mr. Goodard is a renowned rake. Her parents would be very displeased with me if I failed in my duty as chaperone.”

  He didn’t unhand her, but he moved a little closer until they were standing side by side, with Katherine facing one way and him the other. His hand held her arm, and from beneath the snug wool of her jacket, he could feel her tremble—­a restless urge to get away from him, perhaps? Or something else? “And here I was, hoping for a moment to be alone with you,” he murmured in reply.

  “And why is that?” Her voice hitched ever so slightly, her breath escaping her lungs in a shudder.

  He tightened his hold on her, met her gaze and turned around so he could lead her back toward the others. She was right—­they could not leave Lady Julie completely alone with Mr. Goodard. “Because I cannot help but be concerned for you.”

  “You needn’t be,” she said, her hair catching in the breeze while her eyes scanned the landscape—­grassy hills blanketed by patches of heather beyond the castle walls.

  “How can you say that when you are entertaining the notion of becoming Mr. Goodard’s mistress?”

  “I don’t believe I ever told you that I was. On the contrary, I think I was very clear with you when I said I have no intention of doing anything of the sort,” she said as they rounded the corner, bringing Lady Julie back into view. She was standing up now, supported by Mr. Goodard. Katherine gave Lucien a firm look. “You are the one who insists on dismissing what I am telling you in favor of drawing your own conclusions.”

  “Can you blame me? I just found you alone with the man for the second time today, so either fate is having a very good laugh at your expense, or you’re not being completely honest with me.”

  Katherine sighed. She sounded weary, and the pain in her eyes made Lucien wonder if he was indeed wrong to doubt her. “Time will tell, I suppose.” She shook her head. “But what difference does any of it make, when you have planned to marry Lady Julie?”

  The words were so quiet that he scarcely heard them—­as if she’d been talking to herself and hadn’t intended for him to hear. But he had, and her words cut straight through him. “I haven’t planned to do anything of the sort,” he told her roughly.

  “Is Lady Julie aware of that?” Katherine asked, her voice tight as she stared back at him with defiance. “I can’t imagine what life has been like for you these past few years, but I never considered you the sort of man who’d toy with a lady’s emotions.” Yanking her arm away, she went to join Lady Julie and Mr. Goodard, leaving Lucien with much to consider. Had she been speaking of Lady Julie or of herself just now? he wondered. Following her at a respectable distance, he pondered their heated exchange until the edge of his mouth slowly curved upward. He was beginning to suspect it might be the latter.

  The ride back to Cresthaven was a tedious one, not so much because of the pace they were keeping due to Lady Julie’s sprained ankle, but because Katherine suddenly wanted to be completely alone. She’d never been the sort of woman who feigned disinterest in order to win a gentleman’s attention or pretended her preferences lay elsewhere so he would redouble his efforts at winning her. Those were the sorts of games played by sophisticated Society misses, which she’d never considered herself to be.

  No, she’d grown up in the country, the daughter of a baronet, and while she’d been to London on more than one occasion, she’d always been relieved to find herself returned to the fields and meadows that surrounded her home. She liked simplicity. Getting embroiled in lies and deception did not sit well with her, especially when it involved Lucien, with whom she’d always been blatantly honest.

  At present, however, honesty was proving extremely difficult. How was she to tell him of all the conflicting emotions tumbling through her, when she barely understood them herself? She was confused, and as a result, she was desperately unhappy, so it was a relief when they finally arrived back at Cresthaven and Lady Julie announced her desire for immediate departure. “I’m sorry, Lady Crossby, I’ve had a lovely time visiting you this afternoon, but I’d like to get back to Kingsborough Hall so I can have a rest.”

  “Would you like me to escort you?” Lucien asked.

  “There’s no need for you to trouble yourself, Roxberry,” Mr. Goodard said, “considering it’s on the way to my own home. I’ll be happy to escort Lady Julie.”

  Lucien hesitated, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Eventually he nodded, stepped toward Lady Julie and bowed over her hand. “I’ll call on you soon, my lady,” he told her as he helped her up into her carriage.

 
She smiled down at him and said, “I’ll look forward to it with great anticipation.”

  And then the carriage rolled away with Mr. Goodard riding alongside it. Katherine watched it move down the graveled driveway until it turned a corner and disappeared from sight. “I want to apologize to you for earlier,” she said without looking at Lucien, who stood silently at her side. “I never meant to imply that your feelings toward Lady Julie are disingenuous. It’s none of my affair whom you choose to marry, and truthfully, she is very likeable, if perhaps a bit young. I’m sure she and I will get along very well if you do decide to make her your wife.”

  “It is I who should apologize to you, Kate. It wasn’t my intention to return here only to chastise you—­especially not after everything you’ve been through.”

  She winced. “I daresay it can’t compare with everything you’ve been through, Lucien.” She turned toward him then. “I’ve never lied to you, you know, and everything I told you today is true. I’ve no intention of forming an attachment of any sort with Mr. Goodard. That you would even suspect such a thing . . .” She fought for composure.

  “Once again, I apologize, but it was difficult for me to think anything else, given the man’s reputation and your recent state of widowhood.” He moved as if to take her hand in his, but instead he just stuck his own hand in his pocket.

  “I know,” she said, “but whatever choice I make, I want it to be my choice. You just have to trust in my ability to do what is right for myself and for Sophia.” She smiled at how sheepish he suddenly looked. “That aside, Mr. Goodard did flatter me with his attention today, but contrary to what you might think, he remained quite courteous and made no attempt to press his advances.” She paused to consider that for a second. Curious, that; not once had he given the impression of being a libertine. “Is it so terribly wrong of me to appreciate the regard of a handsome gentleman?” she asked, continuing her line of thought. “I am a woman, after all, and while I might choose celibacy, I still want to know that I can catch a man’s interest, even at the ripe age of four and twenty.”