His Perfect Lady (21 page)

The baron’s weak voice gave Jonathan the ability to slightly soften his opinion of the man. After all, his niece faced death.

Swallowing down the thick emotion, Jonathan whispered, “I don’t know.”

In an instant, the baron jumped to his feet. “Then get a new doctor. You have the funds to do so. Fix this. Fix her.”

Closing his eyes against the torture, Jonathan tried to keep himself under control. He refused to suffer a breakdown with an audience. He welcomed any advice, but he couldn’t abide the accusatory tone.

“Dr. Ramon is consulting with other doctors today.” Jonathan opened his eyes and focused on Berwick’s face. “I will do whatever is in my power to save her. Of that, you can be assured.”

The man slumped his shoulders. “I believe you. I just . . . This isn’t easy. Can I see her?”

Although Jonathan wanted to deny his request, he knew his wife’s uncle had every right to see her. Standing, Jonathan took him up to Catherine’s bedchamber.

The smell of fresh flowers and clean linens greeted him as he opened the door. His staff thankfully understood his reluctance to leave Catherine in a stifling sickroom. His wife deserved better.

“Jonathan,” Aunt Mildred greeted him as she stood up. “What is
he
doing here?”

“Catherine’s uncle wishes to look in upon his niece.”

His aunt remained by Catherine with narrowed eyes. Clearly she didn’t intend to move from the bedside. Somehow his beloved wife had worked herself into Aunt Mildred’s affections. He hoped Catherine would live long enough to realize the feat she accomplished. The bleak thought made him clench his teeth. Catherine would survive. She had to.

Berwick gasped as he approached the bed. “She’s so green. How could this happen? Who did this?”

“We don’t know yet, but I will find out.” Jonathan’s vow rang out in the quiet room. Helplessness engulfed him, clogging his throat. Under the covers of the king-size bed, Catherine appeared so weak and defenseless.
How could anyone do this to her?

Hours later, Jonathan realized no one could answer the simple question. As he watched the magistrate leave his office, he tried to block out the image of the man’s pessimistic face. If he didn’t believe he could find the culprit, hope didn’t exist for them.

“How are you holding up?” Aunt Mildred asked as she entered the room and dropped herself into a chair.

“The authorities don’t appear as though they will be able to catch the person responsible.” Jonathan placed his elbows on the desk and lowered his head into them. “What can we do?”

“Dr. Ramon just left, but he feels encouraged by Catherine’s state this morning. I get the feeling he didn’t expect her to last the night.”

Although the words were meant to soothe, a stab of agony pierced his heart. If the doctor had already given up, what hope did they have? An unwelcome tear slid down his face, but he brushed it away before it would be noticed.

The doctor’s fear wasn’t farfetched. He would never forget the feeling of Catherine’s motionless body in his arms as her life slipped away. Her face appeared so peaceful. Jonathan repressed a shudder as he shook his head, unable to bear the memories any longer.

“Has he learned anything more from others in his profession?”

“They say the same. We must give her fluid and allow her body to dispel the poison. Only then will she mend.”

Raising his face, he looked at his aunt with emotionless eyes. She appeared composed, but he could see his misery reflected in her expression.

“If the doctor is done, I’ll take the next shift.” Jonathan stood and moved around the desk.

His aunt drew herself to her feet and lightly touched his shoulder.

“Don’t give up. She is a fighter and as long as she perseveres, everything will turn out all right.”

He patted her hand and exited the room. Her empty assurance did little to comfort him. She couldn’t see the future, and therefore couldn’t promise him anything.

Opening the door, his wife’s low moan had him sprinting to her side. Her ashen face flopped around on the pillow, making the icy hand of fear squeeze his heart. He gently slid his arm behind her to lift her head. Placing the cup to her lips, she drank instead of fighting him. That minute difference brought him such joy.

As Catherine settled against his chest, Jonathan felt the faintest glimmer of hope building inside of him. Even after being summoned back downstairs, the feeling remained. Perhaps Aunt Mildred was right. Maybe Catherine would live.

“Jonathan,” Lawrence called. “You should’ve seen it! We caught the biggest fish ever.”

“Hush.” Darin clamped a hand over the young boy’s mouth. “He doesn’t want to hear.”

Jonathan bent down to peer into Lawrence’s now-deflated face. “Of course I want to hear. I wouldn’t have asked Mr. Rawson to take you fishing if I didn’t want to hear about all the fun.”

“They had a great time until Lawrence decided to use himself as bait,” Rawson informed him, shaking his head.

Lawrence thrust his hand out, holding up his middle finger. “See. I didn’t even cry.”

Jonathan eyed the angry red welt. “I’m proud of you. I doubt I would have been able to manage that. Why don’t you go see if Mrs. Balton has some cream she can place on it?”

Darin rolled his eyes as Lawrence ran down the hall. “He may not have cried, but he screamed like a girl.”

Then the boy left before Jonathan could take him to task for his comment. Seeing his younger brothers enjoying normal life brought comfort. He’d not explained the extent of Catherine’s condition to them, but they would be all right. Being young awarded them with a resiliency allowing them to survive past the loss of their sister-in-law, and him, if the situation called for it.

“I’m in need of a brandy. Can I impose upon your hospitality?” Rawson asked.

Jonathan straightened. “Certainly. Come this way.”

Once in the study, he poured them both a glass and then settled back in his chair, bringing the bottle with him. He knew Catherine would need him sober, but the urge to over imbibe and dull the pain overwhelmed him.

“Those boys certainly are full of energy,” Rawson observed.

“Yes. Since Stanwick returned to London, I really appreciate you taking them. Over these past months, they’ve grown attached to you. Besides, it’s nice to not have them constantly underfoot.”

“What did the doctor say?” Rawson threw back his brandy and helped himself to another.

“He seems optimistic, but the magistrate is useless. We have to finish this ourselves. Dudgery and Sideon’s deaths must have been brought about by their own dealings, but Catherine . . .” His voice broke. “That was a direct attack on us or your father.”

“I know. That’s why I snuck into Dudgery’s house last night. Everyone was in an uproar due to the earl’s passing, so it wasn’t difficult.”

Hope forced Jonathan to sit forward. “What did you find?”

“The damning documents we needed months ago to incriminate him. Other than that, nothing.”

Jonathan fell back against the chair and rubbed his temples. They needed more. They had missed something. Something important.

“I just can’t believe it’s happening like this again.”

“What do you mean?”

Rawson squirmed uncomfortably as if he hadn’t meant to speak. “I think this attack might be directed more toward my father than us.”

“How can you believe that?” Jonathan practically spat the question. “That man sold her to husband after husband. He never felt an ounce of what I feel for her.”

“Calm down. That’s not what I meant. Not many people know this, but my father fell in love with his brother’s wife, Catherine’s mother. At the time I was too young to understand, but I caught him alone with her several times. I don’t know for sure, but I believe she loved him, too.”

“What does this have to do with Catherine?” Rage boiled away the ice that had been his constant companion since finding Catherine harmed. “If that bastard thought to substitute Catherine for—”

Rawson held up his hand. “No. Nothing like that. Catherine’s mother was poisoned. She died in my father’s arms. I believe he mourns her still. Then, four years later, his brother suffered the same fate.”

“I left before the old baron died, but I heard of his death in the newssheets. There was no mention of this or a possible link to his wife’s death.”

“His death, like that of his wife’s, was ruled as an accident. I suspect the magistrate was paid off.”

“So you believe whoever murdered the other two has struck against Catherine to get back at your father?”

“It’s possible.”

Although not understanding why the culprit would wait so many years between murders, Jonathan refused to rule it out as a possibility. The only thing he held with certainty was his own innocence.

Regardless of this new information, Catherine still needed him. First, he had to see her on the mend, then he would immerse himself in the details of each death until he found enough to lead him to the culprit. However if she died, it would not be the last poison-induced death, as he didn’t intend to continue on without her.

Chapter 19

A scream stuck in Catherine’s throat as she looked up into the six terrifying eyes of a monster. Its teeth were bared as growling sounds came from somewhere deep within. Fear froze her as the thing brought its claws forward and tapped against her face.

Why didn’t it just end her torment and kill her? Her heart throbbed as each touch to her cheek only compounded the pain. Sleep beckoned, but she refused to face her death unconscious.

“Catherine,” a distant voice called her slowly, as if emphasizing each syllable. Something about the sound tugged at her memory. She wanted to respond and ask the person to save her, but she couldn’t with the monster gazing at her.

“Answer me. It’s Jonathan. Your husband.”

Relief swept over her like a warm blanket sliding up her body. Jonathan would find her and save her. She only needed to survive until then. Reaching up, she removed the monster’s clawed hand, pushing it away from her face.

As her eyes focused on the arm, she realized it appeared human. Slicing her gaze back to its face, she saw Jonathan hovering over her. She smiled as her body sagged in relief. He’d saved her.

“Jonathan.” Her voice came out weak. The exertion of saying his name took too much strength.

“Thank God you’re back.” He bent his head down, touching his forehead to her arm as his fingers curled around hers.

Her body felt drained and her stomach uncomfortable, but she couldn’t remember what happened to her. The last memory she had was Jonathan announcing he’d be absent all day.

“Wh—What happened?”

His head shot up, and he gazed upon her with confusion. “Do you remember anything?”

She coughed, sending Jonathan to his feet. She searched his face as he put a glass up to her lips. The soothing water slid down her throat as she drank with abandon. Never had she tasted anything more divine.

“No. I just remember breakfast.”

“You’ve been in this bed for almost three days now.”

Shock forced her head further back into the pillow. Three days? Staring into her husband’s haggard face, she saw proof in the exhausted lines. She even brought him unhappiness when she wasn’t aware of it. Tears formed in her eyes, but she refused to allow them to fall. Jonathan had suffered enough at her expense.

“How did I lose so much time?” she asked. Embarrassment assaulted her as her stomach growled.

“We can speak about it later. Right now you need to eat, and I need to tell everyone you’ve awakened.”

He didn’t make any move to go. She wondered if he ever left her side during the days she’d missed. If he had, she knew he hadn’t been gone for long.

When he straightened to leave, her chest constricted. If she’d lost three days with him, she refused to lose any more. She opened her arms up to him, and melted when he gathered her up in his embrace. His lips caressed her face and neck as he kissed every part of her he could reach.

He lowered himself to sit upon the bed and shifted her into his lap. Her weak muscles protested the movement, but her body needed this. Needed him. When his lips finally found hers, she met his eagerly, trying to get as close to him as her weary body would allow.

“Good gracious, Jonathan!” Aunt Mildred exclaimed from the doorway. “Quit mauling her.”

Jonathan’s unrepentant grin met his aunt’s outrage, but he didn’t make any move to dislodge her from his lap.

“She’s alive.” His thick voice resounded through her body.

“I knew she would survive.”

Although the woman’s words held no surprise, Aunt Mildred gazed upon her with relief as her hand covered her chest. The amount of love Catherine felt from them overwhelmed her.

After another tight squeeze, Jonathan laid her back in bed. “Aunt, could you summon her cousin and uncle, and have Mrs. Balton bring Catherine something to eat.”

“Of course. Catherine, we have missed you greatly.” With one last happy smile, Jonathan’s aunt turned and left.

“We have been so worried about you. I’ve never been so afraid in my life.” Jonathan smoothed the hair back from her face.

“What happened to me?”

Jonathan returned to the bed and sat on the edge. His intense eyes studied her. “You were poisoned.”

She gasped as her hand flew to her mouth. Someone had tried to kill her? Why hadn’t they been successful? Was it the same person who murdered both her parents? Surely her suffering in the same manner as their death held some significance. She shook her head, not wanting to think of them, to think of the torture they’d suffered.

“We don’t believe the incident occurred until after luncheon since you shared your meal with the boys, who were unaffected. Do you remember consuming anything after that?”

She racked her brain trying to recall more from that day. The only thing that came to mind was her disappointment to learn Jonathan planned to leave. Flashes of people and places flitted through her mind, but they also made her head hurt.

“No. Do you suppose it’s the curse? Come to claim me this time?”

Jonathan’s jaw hardened, making her regret bringing it up. She turned her head on the pillow and squeezed her eyes shut.

As he turned her face back to him, her eyes popped open.

“Hear this. The threat against you is flesh and blood. The curse is nonsense. The fact I survived the wedding night should be proof enough for you.” He tucked the sheet around her. “Why don’t you rest now?”

Mrs. Balton chose that moment to arrive with some bread and cheese. After consuming a few bites, Catherine realized her stomach couldn’t handle anything more at present. How could they continue normal life knowing a threat still existed out there? Had she been the target or were they after Jonathan? Oh how she wished she could remember that day.

A knock at the door brought her uncle, much to her surprise. She tried to contain her wide-eyed stare as he entered like it was an everyday occurrence. Then his warm greeting to Jonathan had her gawking at the two of them.

“I heard my dear niece had come awake, and I had to see for myself. It’s a miracle.” His caring eyes landed upon her, and his apparent sincerity struck her. She marveled at how quickly an illness could change a man.

“She’s only been up for around an hour, but Dr. Ramon had assured me that if she awakened, the danger had passed.”

“Such a relief. Linwood, do you mind if I have a few private words with my niece?”

Jonathan hesitated as his smile froze on his face. Although the men’s relationship appeared to have healed, Jonathan clearly didn’t trust Uncle Toban.

“Of course,” her husband replied at last. “Catherine, if you need me, I will be standing on the other side of the door.”

Before he left, he collected her plate and glass. His last look was a warning to her. She imagined he wouldn’t allow her to take any form of nourishment from anyone but him in the foreseeable future. She would happily defer to him in that matter.

“How are you feeling?” Uncle Toban slowly edged closer to her as if afraid of how she would react.

“I suppose I’m as best as can be expected, considering the circumstances.” She offered him a weak smile. Although she hadn’t forgiven him for his attempt to force her to marry Lord Dudgery, his appearance here meant he did care for her. He easily could have remained at home, unconcerned with her health.

He closed his eyes tightly and placed a hand across his chest. “You scared me so much. But I knew you were strong enough to handle it.”

“Your faith in me is comforting.”

“I can take you back to Berwick now. You’ll be safe with me. As I said before, we never should’ve gone to London. I just thought, well, I thought wrong. But that is past us now.”

Catherine’s head reeled. What was he talking about? She didn’t want to leave Jonathan. Why would her uncle believe otherwise? Did he think Jonathan poisoned her? Her mind had not recovered enough to be able to understand.

“Uncle, I don’t want to go back to Berwick. I’m safe here with my husband. Jonathan isn’t to blame for this, and he will keep me safe.”

“You don’t have to pretend with me. I can clearly see how miserable you are with him. I can make everything like it was before.”

His hopeful eyes assessed her. She couldn’t fathom how he could honestly believe she’d be happier living on his charity than with her husband.

“No. I will not return to Berwick.”

He nodded slowly, a knowing smile on his lips. “You might feel that way now. But you will change your mind.”

A week had passed since Catherine had awakened, and Jonathan had never been happier to see the doctor leave his house with no plans to return. The man declared Catherine to be fully recovered and could resume her normal routine. Although she kept close to the house, Jonathan still felt uneasy allowing her out of his sight.

He hadn’t joined her in bed for fear of overexerting her body. Instead, he threw himself into determining who poisoned her. He’d collected every file and every ounce of information he could find regarding the death of Catherine’s parents and husbands. These pages held the answer.

Leaning back in his chair, he stretched his arms out, placing them behind his head. The hour grew late and his body screamed for a reprieve, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Not only out of guilt, but also the thought of his cold, empty bed brought him no satisfaction.

A knock at the door elicited a sigh from him. He’d been clear with his staff that he didn’t want to be disturbed. Blowing out a breath, he gathered all his papers and covered them with a book. Then he adopted his most irritated expression.

“Enter,” he called, allowing his displeasure to echo in his voice.

The door cracked open, and Catherine poked her head in. “May I interrupt?”

He relaxed his severe expression as a smile touched his lips. She came to him. “Of course.”

Catherine closed the door and then sauntered across the floor to lean on the edge of his desk. Seeing her garbed in a dressing gown with her loose hair flowing down her chest made his body come to attention. “You’ve been working late this past week,” she pointed out.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I hope you haven’t waited up for me.”

With a shrug, she tossed her hair behind her shoulder. “I wish to speak with you. I also plan to make you take a break this evening.”

“How do you intend to do that?” He put a hand on her hip and slid her along the desk to rest directly in front of him.

“By seducing you.”

A spike of pleasure shot through his body. The idea she wanted him so much she sought him out nearly had him ripping her clothes off. Forcing his hands to still, he gritted his teeth. She wouldn’t have to do much seducing. He’d go willingly.

As if to add credence to her words, she untied her dressing gown and allowed the silky fabric to slip from her shoulders. His mouth dried as he found himself transported back to Ravenhurst when he made her undress for him.

“Please tell me the seduction comes first.”

She clicked her tongue in disappointment as her hands hovered over the buttons at the top of her nightgown. “You don’t wish to hear what I have to say?”

Her eyebrows rose as the first button came undone, then the next. Breathing heavily, he watched her movements until her hands stilled. He wanted to demand she continue or at the very least part the fabric to expose her creamy flesh, but he couldn’t speak.

“Well?” The amusement in her tone snapped him back to himself.

“I want nothing more than to hear every word you may utter.”

“Nothing more? Such a pity.” She reached out to collect her wrapper, but he grabbed her wrist. She’d not escape him so easily.

“Maybe a little more.”

“Good. I decided something important today.” She dropped her eyes to his chest as if unable to face him. “The curse isn’t real.”

Closing his eyes at the onslaught of emotion, he worked on regulating his breathing. Over the months of their marriage, he longed for nothing more. Did her confession mean she would return to the Catherine he fell in love with? He opened his eyes. From the smile on her lips to her seduction plan, he knew the answer.

“What makes you say that?” He forced the joy out of his voice. He didn’t want her to know exactly how bad her anxiety over the state of their marriage had affected him.

She bit her lip and slowly brought her gaze back to his eyes. “I’m happy. I have found so many reasons to remain content that I never imagined existed. And I believe you feel the same way.”

“I do. Catherine, you have no idea how much enjoyment our marriage has brought me.”

“I hoped you would agree.” She dazzled him with her smile. “And now to the seduction.”

He gripped the arms of the chair as she continued unfastening her nightdress. Blood wildly rushed through his veins, but he motionlessly watched her. She wanted to be in control, and he remained content to let her, for now at least.

When the last stitch of clothing fell from her body, he allowed his hands to circle her waist and bring her on top of him. Her legs straddled him as her luscious breasts bounced in his face.

Wanting to savor the experience, he rubbed his face over the soft mounds while he liberally spread kisses across her smooth skin. Desire heated his blood and filled his ears with the distant sound of ringing.

As he sucked one sensitive peak in his mouth, a knock sounded at the door. Jonathan groaned at the interruption, but decided to ignore it. Catherine, however, scrambled off of him. Glancing at the door, he saw the knob turn.

Motioning Catherine under his desk, he faced the door.

“Linwood?” Berwick asked as he stuck his head inside.

Jonathan’s mouth almost fell open. Why had his butler allowed Catherine’s uncle in without announcing him? Especially so late?