His Perfect Lady (22 page)

“What are you doing here?”

“I want to speak to you.” Berwick entered the room fully and closed the door behind him.

The man’s presumptuous attitude brought out Jonathan’s rage. “Now is not a good time. Come back tomorrow at a proper calling hour.”

“No. Now works better for me.”

Although incensed at the baron’s attitude, Jonathan knew he had to concentrate and get Berwick out of there so Catherine could dress. Crossing his arms, he moved away from the desk and headed toward the door.

“All right. The drawing room is more comfortable as a fire still burns in the fireplace.”

“I don’t care about comfort. I came to tell you that you’ve had her long enough, and it’s time to return her.”

Jonathan spun back around to face the man. What was he talking about? Berwick’s face held every bit of seriousness. Had the baron gone mad?

“I don’t know what you’re referring to. I have nothing of yours.”

“Don’t play games with me. You have had Catherine much longer than the others. Because I’m generous, I will give you two options.”

“I’m listening.” Jonathan decided humoring Berwick remained his best option. If the baron thought he would ever give Catherine up, Berwick would find himself greatly disappointed.

“You can return my niece to me with a sum equal to a year’s worth of income from Linwood, or I can kill you and forge the document, entitling her to much more. Regardless, the funds will sustain my estate until Catherine must marry again.” Berwick pulled out a gun and leveled the barrel at Jonathan’s heart.

Hearing a gasp, Jonathan coughed in an attempt to cover the sound. He rapidly contemplated scenarios as his body tensed to fight. He had to get Catherine out safely.

“My staff allowed you in and would tell the magistrate you were the last to see me alive. You would never escape.”

“Actually, they know nothing of my presence. They believe I left after visiting my niece earlier, but I slipped into an unused bedchamber. I’ve been waiting for this moment all day.”

Fear laced around Jonathan’s chest at the coldness of Berwick’s plan. Berwick clearly had done this before. Jonathan prayed Catherine would remain silent. He had to keep her uncle talking. Time would bring him the answer he needed in order to subdue the baron and save Catherine.

“You killed Catherine’s past husbands,” Jonathan stated flatly, knowing he spoke the truth. “
You
are the curse.”

Berwick lowered the gun to his side. “They chose option two. I’ll never forget their arrogance as they drank the poison-laced brandy. Those men had been weak, and staging their suicides had been easy. You, on the other hand, will be messier, but I’ll manage. After Catherine and Dudgery, I thought it best to forgo my weapon of choice.”

“
You
poisoned Catherine?” Shock echoed in his words. “Why? Your attack on Dudgery and Sideon makes sense, but why her?”

“I didn’t give her much poison,” Berwick said, ignoring his question. “I hadn’t accounted for her weakened state, but she still survived. Now she knows she’s not safe with you. Her place is with me. Even you will have trouble convincing her otherwise.” Berwick held his empty hand out as if he expected Jonathan to agree. “So, what will it be? One or two?”

Jonathan could hardly believe he’d found the person who’d poisoned Catherine and killed four people, yet he could do nothing about it. He needed more time.

“What about Catherine’s mother? Why did you kill her?”

The baron’s face darkened with rage. “How dare you! I loved Hannah. My brother killed her. He did it on purpose because she loved me more. I got my revenge, though. He suffered the same fate, but I made sure to provide him with plenty of pain first.”

Jonathan’s heart broke to think of Catherine hearing this. He’d never imagined Berwick capable of such horrific behavior.

Suddenly Catherine stood, her dressing gown fastened securely around her waist. No. She needed to hide.

“I think you’re wrong,” Jonathan quickly said, desperate to keep Berwick’s focus on him. “The more likely scenario is Hannah loved her husband and you couldn’t stand it. You killed her out of jealousy.”

His face turned purple, but he had not noticed Catherine yet. Then the baron’s expression cleared, leaving no emotion. “I suppose you choose option two.”

Berwick raised the gun.

Enraged, Catherine lifted the bottle of brandy above her and smashed the bottom down on her uncle’s head as hard as she could. The bottle shattered, sending liquid and glass cascading over them. Uncle Toban immediately crashed to the floor.

Seconds later, she found herself in Jonathan’s arms. She felt numb as her body went limp. It was over. Her uncle, her own flesh and blood, had murdered so many people and had intended to continue to do so as he used her to obtain funds for his estate. Her body swayed as Jonathan led her to the sofa.

“Stay here. I have to tie him up. He won’t be out for long.”

She watched with emotionless, wide eyes while Jonathan retrieved the gun and tucked it into his pocket. As he found a piece of twine and bound her uncle’s wrists in front of his body, she wrapped her arms around her midsection. Then Jonathan rang for the butler and stood guard over Uncle Toban’s moaning form.

“My lord,” the butler bowed. “Wh—?” He stopped speaking as his eyes fell to the unconscious man on the floor.

After Jonathan explained the situation, he left the dealings with her uncle to the butler, and lifted her in his arms and carried her out of the room. His nearness comforted her. Over her life, he’d been the only person she could depend on. The only one who wouldn’t abandon her. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of him. Everything would be all right.

She held on to that thought as he tucked her into bed, where she promptly fell asleep.

The next morning she awoke to see Jonathan watching her. She smiled as joy welled inside of her. He gently stroked her cheek, making her body shiver. She would never tire of his touch. Then the truths she learned last night resurfaced, shattering the happy moment.

Closing her eyes, she forced herself to ask, “Has the magistrate arrived? Did he take Uncle Toban away?”

Jonathan’s pleasure dissolved from his face as pity replaced it. “I’m sorry, Catherine. Your uncle is dead.”

She shot up as shock prickled her skin. “What? How can that be?”

“Before we could stop him, he retrieved something from his waistcoat and consumed it. He poisoned himself.”

Too many emotions cycled through her. Uncle Toban had killed her father. And although he’d remained by her side through the years following her father’s death, he had tortured her. Not only had he forced her to marry repeatedly, but he’d led her to believe her husbands had died because of her.

“It’s over then. The curse has been lifted,” she said, allowing the words to return her joy. No one else would die. She could keep Jonathan forever.

“Yes. It’s over.”

His answering smile sent overwhelming relief spiraling through her. Tears poured down her cheeks. She launched herself into his arms. They could finally begin a new life together. With the past forgotten, new memories could emerge. For once in her life, she looked forward to her future with no fear.

Epilogue

Gazing at the dark and threatening picture, Jonathan shook off terrible memories as his wife clutched his arm tighter. Brianna had such a talent to bring the pictures to life and elicit strong emotions.

Richard and his wife had invited their closest friends to survey Brianna’s work the day before the gallery opened to the public. As Jonathan admired the paintings, he couldn’t help but feel honored.

“I don’t like this one,” Catherine whispered. “The sinister man reminds me of my uncle.”

“It’s Kirkwood,” Jonathan answered with certainty, although the man’s face wasn’t visible.

Kirkwood had kidnapped Brianna, but luckily Richard had come in time to save her. The terror Brianna must have felt at the man’s hand surely inspired this work.

As they moved through the gallery, Jonathan could see how everyone present had aided the marchioness and provided her inspiration. He especially enjoyed the
spark of life
acknowledgment to him.

“My wife is talented, isn’t she?” Richard came up beside them. “I doubt there’s a more skilled painter in all of England.”

Brianna swatted her husband’s arm. “Stop it.”

“He’s right,” the new Baron Berwick said as he joined them. “I’ve never seen such talent.”

“I like your cousin, Catherine.” Brianna shot Kenneth a wide grin.

Although Kenneth seemed uncomfortable to be around them, Jonathan was pleased he had agreed to join them. Catherine had insisted her cousin travel to London with them for the Season. Since Kenneth sold his townhouse, he was to stay at Alastair house for the duration of his stay. Jonathan imagined Catherine intended to see her cousin married before the close of the Season.

“Oh, Brianna,” Abigail said, tears in her eyes, “they are so beautiful.” She nuzzled Joseph’s cheek while he squirmed in her arms.

“Give him here.” Richard scooped up his two-year-old son. The love on his face made Jonathan smile.

“My favorite is the one of Joseph as a baby.” Abigail’s face grew red. “As a matter of fact, it makes me think of the child I am carrying.”

A collective gasp went around the room.

“What?” Greyson spun around to face his wife. “You’re with child? You never told me.”

“I wasn’t certain until this morning. I recalled Brianna mentioning Madam Hershal, so I visited her. Do you mind?”

A slow smile broke out across Greyson’s face. He drew his wife in his arms. “Of course I don’t mind. I’m thrilled.”

“I hope to have a little boy just like you.” Abigail gazed into Greyson’s eyes.

“Well, not
exactly
like him,” Jonathan interjected, earning everyone’s attention. “What? I just thought, why not aim a little higher and give the boy a chance?”

Catherine elbowed him. “He means to say congratulations.”

While the three women went off to talk about the baby, the men stood back. The ladies dealt well together, and Jonathan couldn’t have been more pleased to see how much they liked one another.

“Who would have thought we’d end up like this?” Richard observed.

“What? Happy?” Greyson raised an eyebrow.

“No, leg-shackled,” Jonathan clarified. “We’ve given these dangerous females complete control of our lives. And to make matters worse, we’re happy about it.”

His friends laughed while Kenneth shook his head.

Joy surrounded Jonathan as he surveyed the smiling faces. Life had a strange way of forcing one to endure trial after trial, but in the end, it’d left him with perfection.

I hope you enjoyed reading the final book in the Perfect Series. Read below for a quick description of Books One and Two of the Perfect Series as well as a sneak peek at
Catching the Baron
, a companion novel.

HIS PERFECT BRIDE

Richard Carrack received the title of Marquis of Stonemede upon his father’s death six months ago. Knowing of the duties associated with the title, he decides to marry and spend the remainder of his days tending to the estate. His requirements for his bride are simple; he wishes her to be obedient and calm-spirited. When circumstances place him in the path of Lady Brianna Denton, whose wild ways make her an unsuitable candidate, he lies about his identity to discourage her from pursuing him for his title.

Brianna Denton knows what she wants out of life. She wishes to marry an untitled lord and live the remainder of her days in the country with no obligations. Only then can she spend her free time painting. When she meets Mr. Richard, she decides he would make the perfect husband. Little does she know, her boldness puts her in a position where she must decide between what she always thought she wanted and what her heart is telling her.

Available now on Amazon:
http://tinyurl.com/q94bx5b

HIS PERFECT GAME

Greyson Thorpe, Viscount Merrick, wants respectability above all else. Knowing the fastest way to achieve that state comes through marriage, he challenges Hammond Everett, the Duke of Donetic, to a card game. After winning the match, the duke agrees to exchange his daughter’s hand in marriage for the forgiveness of his debts.

Willimena Abigail Everett had no desire to marry after experiencing the violent nature of men at her father’s hand. When Viscount Merrick arrives, she has no choice other than to obey her father and marry him. Will she be able to set aside her previous beliefs about men and judge her husband by his own merits?

After obtaining good social standing, Greyson sends his bride to the country; however, he finds himself missing her. Following her to the estate, he discovers she had been living a double life. Will he discover her secrets and control his burning desire for her at the same time?

Available now on Amazon:
http://tinyurl.com/oqeam9p

CATCHING THE BARON

Chapter 1

Samantha Jenkins scraped her thumb across the blade of the knife, testing its sharpness. Satisfied with the narrow trickle of blood oozing out of her finger, she gripped the handle in her cold hand as she stared at the frightened girl looking back at her in the mirror.

Just do it, she urged herself as her heartbeat accelerated. One slice. One swipe would be all she needed. Knowing it would only last a second didn’t dull her fear or assuage her trepidation. As she watched, all the color drained from her face, and her head swayed from side-to-side. Was she making a mistake? Could there be another option?

Setting the knife down, she dropped her head between her knees to combat the rolling nerves in her stomach. She ran her trembling fingers across her thighs to dry her sweaty palms. When her legs began to shake, she knew she couldn’t put this off any longer.

No matter what she did at this moment, nothing would ever be the same. Tears poured down her cheeks as she pictured her mother and father’s smiling faces. They were gone now and could no longer help her.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the knife and stared at her now-determined face. Without wasting another second, she positioned the blade and slashed.

Kenneth Rawson, Baron Berwick, watched as his cousin flitted around the dance floor in the arms of her husband. Every day, he noticed how the love between Catherine and Jonathan grew. Although happy for his cousin, he couldn’t help but be slightly envious. He would never find that level of love for himself.

Irritated at his line of thinking, Kenneth turned to focus back on the décor. Lady Laramie had a reputation for throwing the event of the Season, and tonight she didn’t disappoint. The tropical theme had such success he could almost smell the ocean.

As he made his way around the room, the sand crunched underneath his boots. The staff would be cleaning for months before eradicating the floor of every grain scattered about the room. Approaching the panels of fabric done in white and various shades of blue, he shook his head at the elaborate lengths Lady Laramie took for her parties.

“Kenneth, there you are,” Catherine called from behind him.

Spinning around, he winced to see her flanked by her two friends, Brianna Denton, Marchioness of Stonemede, and Abigail Thorpe, Viscountess Merrick. The three were inseparable. And determined to see him wed. To an heiress. He shuddered.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Lady Stonemede asked, her lips thin with disappointment. “Miss Greeves had an availability for the last set. You should have partnered her.”

“I apologize, my lady. I merely wished to take a break.”

“How can you expect to wed if—?”

“Brianna,” Lady Merrick interrupted, “perhaps we should give him a little break tonight. I don’t believe Lord Berwick has sat out one set for over a fortnight.”

Lady Stonemede nodded, but Kenneth could see calculations in her narrowed eyes. The lady appeared as determined as Catherine to see him wed. Although he agreed aligning himself in marriage would fill his coffers with a much-needed boost, he didn’t like the callous search. He wanted fire. He wanted passion. He wanted something other than the cold, metallic feeling of a shilling in his bed.

At that moment, Jonathan joined them. After exchanging a look with her husband, Catherine peered at him, a chilling sparkle lighting her face. Kenneth tugged at his cravat as it suddenly felt too tight.

“I just received confirmation on a new bit of juicy gossip,” Catherine declared, leaning toward her friends. “And as it happens, I also found the perfect lady for Kenneth.”

Glancing at Jonathan, Kenneth caught his sympathetic smile. Although he clearly didn’t feel the same as his wife regarding seeing Kenneth wed, he also chose not to step in to Kenneth’s aid.

“Do tell.” The light in Lady Stonemede’s eyes mirrored both Catherine’s and Lady Merrick’s.

“Lady Laramie has an estranged granddaughter. She is nearing spinsterhood, but her grandmother intends to launch her regardless.”

“Her dowry should be substantial.” Lady Merrick nodded slowly. “She sounds ideal.”

Kenneth resisted the urge to groan. A well-dowered unmarried lady meant trouble. For a fortune, men could overlook nearly anything in a wife. So, why wasn’t she already wed? What about the lady made a man unwilling to settle for her? Glancing over at Miss Greeves, Kenneth realized she held more appeal than he originally thought.

Seeing Richard and Greyson approaching them, Kenneth silently rejoiced at the upcoming change in conversation. On the other hand, being with the three couples made him feel uncomfortable. When the first notes of a waltz sounded, he teetered between relief and disappointment.

As if guided by an unspoken cue, his friends collected their wives and excused themselves. Kenneth stood back and watched as all three men held their wives slightly closer than appropriate. The women didn’t seem to mind in the least.

He wasn’t against marriage, just the idea of entering the state for money. If having a title meant he had to choose a wife, he preferred to find someone he could at least stand to be around. Rubbing a hand behind his neck, Kenneth went in search of the card room.

His fingers itched as he walked between the tables and heard the exhilarating sounds of cards slapping against one another. The familiar feeling of excitement and hope made his pulse race. Just one hand, he told himself. One hand would fix everything. One hand would make an heiress unnecessary. With a smile tickling his lips, he reached for his money.

As soon as his fingertips brushed the few coins, his shoulders sagged. This was the reason why he found himself in this position. Gambling had never been one of his talents. Keeping his gaze fixed upon his feet, he forced himself from the room.

Knowing his willpower wavered on the verge of snapping, he didn’t stop when the cool mist of rain dusted his face. The walk back to Jonathan’s townhouse would do him good. London held too many temptations to be beneficial for him.

Coming soon from Soul Mate Publishing!