His Perfect Lady (8 page)

“Uncle Toban just told me some rather unpleasant things about you, then implored me to never see you again.”

“Oh that.” Jonathan shot her a half smile, hoping to put her at ease. “Do you believe the things he told you about me?”

“Most of it. The rest is irrelevant or remains to be seen.”

He nodded and concentrated on the road for a while. His mouth burned with the need to ask her what Berwick had said, but he really didn’t want to know. Obviously she believed some unpleasant things about him. He only hoped he’d be able to change her opinion of him.

“Your uncle doesn’t approve of me.”

“Neither did my father, if you recall,” she answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

His hands gripped tighter on the reins, causing the horse to bob his head, swaying the phaeton slightly. Chester Rawson, the late Baron Berwick, had been a very unpleasant man. Jonathan suspected he never approved of anything after his wife’s unexpected death, or before for that matter.

“I just can’t imagine how anyone could find fault with me,” he teased, earning amused laughter from Catherine.

“So after you told Uncle Toban how perfect you were, he set out to tell me all your faults?”

“In part. Mostly he wanted you to make an educated decision before choosing to spend the afternoon with me.”

“He wasn’t pleased I still wanted to see you, but after our last meeting, I have too many unanswered questions.”

“Then I give you leave to question me to your heart’s content.” He attempted to keep the emotion off his face. If he’d answered all her questions upon their last meeting, would she have refused to see him?

Her eyes widened as a blush crept up her face. “These aren’t questions I can ask. They are the kind you have to answer through the natural flow of conversation.”

Cocking his head to the side, he viewed her out of the corner of his eye. How was he supposed to answer an unasked question? This was one of the things he enjoyed yet hated about Catherine. She never followed the typical path most women of his acquaintance did.

“How am I to do that?”

Her smile was mischief in its purest form. “I thought you could do anything.”

“Do you think flattery will stop me from insisting you explain yourself?”

Jonathan nearly ran them off the street when her hand touched his thigh. Thankfully the phaeton sat high and not many people were about Hyde Park in this weather.

“I can always use distraction.”

Her husky voice sent tremors through his body. The one time with her hadn’t been enough. He shifted in his seat, trying to ease the discomfort in his trousers. Never before had it taken so little to send his body to such a desperate state. Glancing around, he cursed the few gathered patrons, wishing them to disappear.

“Although it’s effective, teasing me will not serve you well.”

After pulling the horses to a stop, he grasped her hand and drew it to his lips. With his eyes fixed upon her, he gently touched his mouth to her gloved palm before returning it to her lap. If he overstepped the line, one witness would be one too many to squelch rumors.

“Perhaps I wish to do more than tease.” Her lips parted as her gaze fixed on his mouth.

Letting out a strained laugh, he hoped to lighten the mood. “I fear I have created a monster in you. However with so many witnesses, it would be wise to take care.”

“Why? I’m a widow. No one will take any heed of me.” Her pouty lip made him smile.

Her words were true. However, she sought a husband. Considering her age, she would have to watch herself if she wished to secure a decent man. And he’d be damned if he sat back and allowed her to marry Dudgery.

“Come, let’s go for a walk.”

He exited the phaeton and assisted her down before he gave into his urge to take her pouty lip into his mouth. The spell she’d put him under had apparently only increased since they’d made love. He would be a fool to think a second time would break his fascination, but he couldn’t help but wonder.

As they traversed the path, cool mist fell over them, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t allow the weather to cut their visit short, especially after the confrontation with Berwick. Peering down at Catherine, she appeared to share his feelings. He had no idea where their relationship would go, but he would see it through to the end.

“What have you been up to these past years?” Jonathan asked, wanting to know more about her.

Although he felt as though he knew her well, the truth was he never delved into finding out about her life since he left the country. When he learned about her marriage, it’d been too painful to hear more.

“Not much beyond running Uncle Toban’s house. Since Aunt Pearl has been ill, he has relied heavily on me.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your aunt.”

“Don’t be.” Catherine smiled slightly. “It’s self-imposed.”

He nodded in response as he didn’t know what else to say. Catherine’s mother had done the same thing. Apparently something about marriage to the Berwick men made a woman make herself ill. Although Catherine didn’t appear to be affected by the similar circumstances to that of her mother, Jonathan felt sorry for her. Bearing the situation couldn’t be as easy as she made it out to be.

“You know everything about me, including secrets from my past. Now it’s your turn. Tell me something about yourself that no one else knows.”

Stopping their walk, he turned and faced her. She looked so earnest he didn’t want to disappoint her, but the majority of what he could say, he knew she didn’t want to hear.

“I own a club. The name is Ravenhurst,” he blurted out, realizing how much trust he placed in her to impart the information.

She pinched her lips in disapproval as she surveyed him. “I share with you the circumstances behind my husbands’ deaths, some of which I’ve never shared with another soul, and you tell me of one of your investments?”

“It isn’t just an investment. It’s mine. The Marquis of Stonemede, the Viscount Merrick, and I began Ravenhurst many years ago. The ownership split between us until they moved on. Although I try to keep myself out of the day—to—day running, I still oversee management.”

“Oh.” She ducked her head as red crept up her neck. “I will keep your secret.”

“Thank you,” he whispered as his eyes fell to her lips. His breathing increased as his body stiffened in anticipation. She stood so near, yet they were far enough away from the casual observers. He couldn’t see the harm in stealing a quick kiss.

Leaning closer to her, a cold, wet raindrop hit him in the face. She must have felt one, too, as her eyes widened. The rain began to flow more steadily, so he grabbed Catherine’s hand and ran toward the phaeton. Although the cold droplets saturated his clothing, they did nothing to cool his ardor for her.

Weaving through the trails, he realized they were the only patrons who had overstayed their welcome at the park. Mother Nature had given them a warning, but they’d neglected to listen. Then he stopped. Was it a warning or an opportunity?

As he glanced back at Catherine, his heart swelled. The rain had dragged her hair out of her coiffure, sticking various strands to her face. Her dress hung heavy from her shoulders, but her bright smile cleared the Heavens with a ray of sunlight. His Catherine never acted the fragile miss who couldn’t handle a new situation. The girl he remembered embraced life as fully as he did. Seeing the proof she’d not changed undid him.

He captured her in his embrace and ravished her mouth. She opened to him with no protest. Heat bubbled within him to the point he imagined the rain turned to steam as it touched his body. Her hands tugged at his clothing as he attempted to mold her closer and still her anxious hands.

At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to strip Catherine and make love to her in the rain, but one shred of his sanity remained intact. He couldn’t have her. If she wanted to share his bed, she’d have to give up her quest for a husband. Or she could marry him.

The thought ripped him from her and left him standing several feet away, staring at her as if he didn’t know her. He didn’t want to marry, and the idea he’d offer for her again was absurd. If he wanted a woman to share his bed, he could easily find another who didn’t come with so many strings to attach to him.

“What is wrong?” Her wobbly voice brought him back to reality.

Her body shivered violently. From the cold or his withdrawal, he didn’t know. Regardless, she needed to return home, and he needed an escape. Pulling her along, he wasted no time in heading back to the phaeton. As he drove her to Berwick’s townhouse, he thought about his miserable predicament. After he ensured Catherine made it inside safely, he thankfully turned the horses home.

The rain had let up, but the darkness remained. The gloomy state only intensified his unhappy mood. He had yet to make a decision regarding his future, and Catherine’s presence only complicated everything. The metaphorical fork in the road had too many offshoots and none of them suited him.

Finally facing the truth, he realized he’d achieved what he set out to do. Not only had he made love to Catherine, but he enjoyed the distinction of being her first lover. With that completed, she had no other place in his life. He needed to move on and find another woman, and he needed to do it soon.

Chapter 7

“What troubles you tonight?” Rosetta purred in Jonathan’s ear.

She sat in his lap in naught but her dressing gown, but he remained unmoved. He thought coming here and having a willing woman with only the promise of one night would cure him, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. Even with Rosetta’s body inches away and her desire evident, he couldn’t stop thinking about Catherine.

“I’m sorry, Rosetta. I shouldn’t have come.”

While sighing heavily, she climbed off him and secured her dressing gown more tightly around her waist. Judging by her lowered eyes, he knew he’d hurt her feelings. He silently cursed himself as he stood to leave.

“You don’t have to go yet. You’ve obviously come for a reason.”

Feeling selfish, Jonathan sat back down. He didn’t want to return to his cold house, nor did he wish to witness more of Stanwick’s debauchery. “Thank you.”

“I’ve never seen you like this. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were experiencing woman trouble.”

“Considering I’ve robbed you of a pleasurable evening, why don’t we discuss you? I’d be more than happy to hear of your performances.”

Rosetta’s eyes widened as her hand flew to her mouth. “Could the great Jonathan Alastair actually be having difficulties with a woman?”

Jonathan simply looked at her, realizing he’d been mistaken about the joys of a lonely house. “I’m not sure I wish to discuss this.”

“Why not? We’ve been friends for quite some time and considering I’m a woman, I may be able to provide a different view than you’ve considered.” She leaned forward, eyes alight with excitement. “So, you found a woman who can’t be seduced into your bed.”

“No, it isn’t that . . . It’s complicated.”

“Oh my God. You’re in love with her.”

As Rosetta’s laughter filled the room, Jonathan shot to his feet. “You’re allowing fanciful woman notions to cloud your thinking. Although I have ‘loved’ many women, I haven’t loved any of them.”
Except one
, a small voice said from deep within him.

Having been pushed beyond his limit, Jonathan strode to the door. Rosetta didn’t follow him, but her amusement continued to chase him down the short hallway and into the street. He took a deep breath of the rain-filled night and then jumped into his carriage.

As he set off, he couldn’t stop thinking about Catherine. Many years ago he loved her, but not any longer. His feelings for her died along with his childish ideas about life. Living was hard and allowing one to believe any differently caused a disservice. The only way to survive was to seek out any meager amount of happiness the world offered. He only needed to decide what brought him the most pleasure and pursue it.

The next morning, Jonathan sat at the breakfast table nursing the worst headache he’d experienced to date. He couldn’t even remember how many glasses or bottles of brandy he consumed last night. By the time his head hit the pillow, the only progress he’d made was the realization that women were too much trouble.

He imagined his friends would laugh at him if they could see him now. After all the teasing he’d done to them through the years, he deserved any retribution. However, his friends would never know, as he had no intention of admitting his whole life was meaningless.

“Good morning, Jonathan,” Stanwick’s cheery voiced stabbed into Jonathan’s mind, forcing a groan out of his mouth.

“No, it’s not a good morning,” Jonathan whispered, holding his throbbing head.

His brother chuckled. “Rough night? You should have joined me. I spent the night with—”

Jonathan held up his hand as he reluctantly drew his eyes up to his brother. “Stop. I have no desire to hear of your escapades.”

“Fine, I’ll leave that part out, but I have something I need to discuss with you.” Stanwick’s eyes were wide with excitement.

Pushing his pain to the back of his mind, Joanathan gave his brother his full attention. Lately the only thing Stanwick became excited about was women, so Jonathan brightened at the idea of his interest in other pursuits.

“You have my ear.”

“Last night I went to Ravenhurst to have a drink. As I passed the tables, Dudgery called me over to join him. Kenneth Rawson was there, too, but he left before I sat. Apparently he doesn’t share your preference of ending the feud.”

Jonathan didn’t like the sound of that. After Dudgery planned to seduce Catherine at Vauxhall, his consorting with her cousin couldn’t be a coincidence. As far as Jonathan knew, the two men had nothing in common except Catherine.

“What were they doing there together?”

“I don’t know.” Stanwick looked irritated. “That isn’t the point. Dudgery asked me if you’d made a decision regarding his proposal, which I knew nothing about.”

“Please tell me you didn’t invest anything.”

“Certainly not.” Stanwick’s incredulous tone brought Jonathan comfort. “First I have to relieve my funds from Mr. Spinner’s care.”

Concern returned in full force. “You can’t do that. It’s a risky investment and if the company survives you’re guaranteed years before it begins to repay itself. How will you survive until then?”

“I’m not here for your opinions or approval.” Stanwick’s voice took on a petulant quality. “Do you think you’re the only brother with any skill for investing? I only brought this up to urge you to take your part before you miss out.”

“Let’s compromise by making a deal. First, you hold off on your investment until I’ve had a chance to . . . rearrange my funds. Then we can approach Dudgery together. Perhaps if we pool our money, we can obtain a higher percentage of the profits.”

Stanwick’s face relaxed. “Sounds perfect to me. I told him you’d come around.”

Jonathan sat back and surveyed his brother, wondering what had happened to him. Throughout their life, Stanwick had been the tame, obedient one. Each dictate from their father, his brother had complied with pleasure, not questioning or hesitating no matter how ridiculous it sounded to Jonathan. He proved to be trustworthy and earned their father’s love as Jonathan never could. Surely this naïve man before him could not be the same boy he’d grown up with.

After breakfast, Jonathan headed out to Ravenhurst. Since Catherine had arrived in London, he’d neglected his duties to the club. At one time he’d enjoyed the challenge of ownership, but now it only seemed to be a burden.

“Lord Linwood,” Nathaniel greeted. “Your guest isn’t here yet. Come on back, and I’ll alert you when he arrives.”

As Jonathan walked through the room, enjoying the familiar smell of brandy, cigars, and leather, sadness came over him. He added another item to discuss with Mr. Spinner when he arrived.

“Have you experienced any trouble?” Jonathan asked Nathaniel after settling in the office.

“No. With everything running so smoothly, I have
removed the position of night guard.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. You have been handling everything with ease.” Jonathan smiled, feeling confident with his decision. “I’ve heard Dudgery and Rawson have been spending quite a bit of time here.”

“They have, but I’ve encountered no problems from them. Do you expect some?”

“No. I only have a simple curiosity over the nature of their dealings.”

“I can’t say exactly what they are.” Nathaniel rubbed his chin. “They do meet here frequently. But after a few whispered words, they part ways and do not appear to speak again while they’re here.”

Jonathan leaned back in his chair while running a hand through his hair. Why would they be meeting here if not to play cards? He wondered if Rawson could answer some questions about the shipping investment. Clearly Dudgery had an overwhelming need for funds to invest, or he wouldn’t be reaching out to so many people.

“Keep an ear open for me.” Jonathan knew Nathaniel to be capable of the task, as he’d requested information from him many times.

“Of course. If I hear anything, I’ll send word.”

With that Nathaniel went off to attend to his duties. As Jonathan surveyed the office, he remembered the last time he’d been in this room. The faint coloring of blood still tinted the carpet. Turning his head, he averted his eyes from the sight. Although intertwined with happy memories, he knew the bad ones would remain.

“Good afternoon, Lord Linwood,” Mr. Spinner said as he entered the room. “You mentioned some business we need to attend to.”

“Yes. Please take a seat.” Jonathan indicated the chair before him and waited for his solicitor to settle himself.

“I apologize for my tardiness, but as you suspected, your brother came to visit me this morning.”

“Did he request his funds?” Jonathan shook his head at his brother’s predictability.

Stanwick never wanted to wait for anything. Jonathan, however, took comfort in the fact that his brother sought him out first. Had he not, Jonathan had no doubt his brother’s funds would be forfeit.

“Not directly, but I could tell he hoped I would offer him an opportunity to ask. When I didn’t, he asked me to speak to you about an investment.”

“It’s in a shipping company. From what I’ve heard, and with the players involved, I have no intention of endorsing. Nor will I allow my brother to lose his funds. However, I would like you to look into it.”

Mr. Spinner shuffled through his papers and slid out a blank page. “Tell me what you know.”

“The shipping company is to be started by a man named Paul Sideon.”

“Any relation to Jackson Sideon?” Concern shone in Mr. Spinner’s eyes.

“I have no knowledge of either man. What do you know about them?”

Pushing his glasses up, Mr. Spinner rubbed his eyes before replying. “Many years ago there was a smuggler who went by the name of Jackson Sideon. They say the goods he smuggled from France were not stolen, but the man was reputed to be a nasty fellow. No one crossed him and escaped unscathed.”

“Then for the sake of all involved, I hope Paul bears no relation to him. Regardless, find out what you can.”

“Done. Now what was the other matter you wanted to discuss?”

“I think the time has come to sell Ravenhurst.”

Sitting at the window, Catherine watched the raindrops blanketing the London street. The sight was difficult to watch, but she couldn’t force herself to look away. Images of her last visit to Hyde Park filled her mind, bringing both longing and confusion.

Jonathan had kissed her with such passion, she could hardly breathe. Then he snapped out of it as if nothing passed between them. She knew he’d been affected, since she’d felt the proof of his desire, but something had held him back. Had she done something wrong?

Whatever the problem, she’d seek out a solution. After spending so much of her life as a widow and having never discovered the pleasures gained with a man, she refused to never experience it again. Jonathan had proved to be quite skilled and with his discretion, she couldn’t think of a better lover.

When a knock sounded at her door, she was no closer to determining how to run into Jonathan again. She could send him a note, but she didn’t know where to suggest they meet, nor did she know how it would be received considering how they last parted. Sighing, she crossed the room and answered the door.

“Mrs. Gates, your uncle and a gentleman would like to see you in the drawing room,” the downstairs maid said.

Catherine’s heartbeat increased. Had Jonathan come? “Do you know who the gentleman is?”

“No, my lady.”

Nodding, Catherine dismissed the girl and then headed back into her bedchamber. She checked her hair in the mirror as she wanted to look perfect for Jonathan. After rushing downstairs, she paused a moment outside the door to reclaim her breath.

“There you are, my dear.” Uncle Toban stood to greet her as she entered the room.

Her expectant eyes quickly rushed to the other occupant. Disappointment deflated her when she discovered Lord Dudgery smiling at her. She silently berated herself as the letdown was of her own doing.

“Mrs. Gates, I’m so pleased to see you,” the earl said.

“Thank you, my lord,” Catherine dutifully responded before settling herself into a nearby chair.

To her dismay, Lord Dudgery chose the seat next to her. She wondered why his selection bothered her as his proximity never troubled her before. In addition, she fully expected to marry him, so his nearness should not concern her.

“Lord Dudgery has something he’d like to ask you,” her uncle explained, giving her an encouraging smile.

Her forehead broke out in a cold sweat as her heart began to pound. Turning to the earl, she watched as a nerve twitched on his face. Surely he didn’t intend to propose to her with Uncle Toban in the room. Although unfamiliar with the ways of London, being proposed to was not new to her. As she waited for the earl to speak, she decided his question had to do with another matter altogether.

“Yes, my lord?” she encouraged when he didn’t speak.

He cleared his throat and wiped a handkerchief across his face. Clearly he was not as comfortable as her uncle appeared.

“Mrs. Gates,” Lord Dudgery began. “You’re very beautiful. Every time I have you on my arm, I’m the envy of the room. Will you marry me and make me the envy of all of London?”

Catherine stared at him in shock. Not only was his proposal the worst she’d received, but nothing felt right about this. Panic constricted her chest, making her worry she’d die from lack of breathing. Although she’d expected, and even counted on his commitment, she no longer knew how to answer.