A Stranger at Castonbury

chapterr Ten

The lane leading to the Buxton Assembly Rooms was crowded with carriages, moving so slowly, inching forward, so that surely everyone for miles around was just waiting there on the road. And Catalina was sure that at least half the equipages belonged to Castonbury.

She drew her shawl closer around her shoulders and peered out of the window at the buildings creeping past. Ahead of her was the great landau bearing Lily and Giles, along with the duke and Mrs Landes-Fraser. And behind was Jamie in a dashing little new curricle. Not that she had paid any attention—except to be all too acutely aware of where he was at every minute.

A soft giggle made her turn away from the window. Lydia sat with two of the other young lady guests, whispering and laughing with them. She looked as if she was having a wonderful time, and Catalina smiled to see it. That was surely what weddings were for—to bring people together and make them happy.

Not upend their lives, as knowledge of a certain secret wedding years ago would surely do in this little world.

At last their carriage shuddered to a halt, and a footman rushed around to open the door. As Catalina stepped down to follow the girls up the front steps, she heard a soft tapping sound on the pavement behind her. She turned to see Jamie just as the light from one of the high windows fell over him.

He wore fashionable, if stark, black and white evening clothes, the only spark of colour a ruby pin at his cravat. His hair was brushed smoothly back from his face, revealing the arc of the scar on his cheek. And he was using the walking stick again.

As he moved beside her, Catalina couldn’t help but wonder again what had happened to him. She ached to think he had been in pain, and she wanted more than she had ever wanted anything to reach out to him. To hold him close and take away anything he had suffered. To somehow make it right again.

Yet she seemed to be a cause of some of that pain to him, and it made her wonder again what had happened to him after they had parted in Spain. He gave her a grim smile as they moved up the shallow stone steps together, and he didn’t quite meet her eyes. They were so near to each other, so close she could just reach out and brush his sleeve with her hand, but he was as far from her as he had ever been.

Still silent, they moved into the building behind the others. They left their wraps with the servants in the corridor and climbed the steps to the grand second-floor ballroom. It was a lovely space, a long room surmounted by crystal chandeliers and lined with marble columns.

But the ballroom was so crowded there didn’t seem even an inch to move about, and Catalina wondered how anyone could possibly dance. Conversation rose in a roar all around her, words indistinct as friends greeted one another and jests were made and enjoyed. The musicians on a dais at one end of the room were tuning up. The smells of various perfumes, baked meats and sweet punch hung in the air, and the room was warm with all the people packed inside it. Catalina could see Lydia’s white gown a few feet ahead of her, but several people had slipped in between them and they were all caught in the crush. She was against the wall on one side, and Jamie was on the other.

She could feel his heat brush against her bare arm.

‘It is not much like the dances in Spain, is it?’ he said quietly near her ear.

Catalina laughed and shook her head. ‘No, indeed. There is no canvas tent, and from what I can hear the music is a bit more...accomplished.’

Jamie smiled down at her, and for an instant he looked like the old Jamie, her Jamie. The man who had danced with her at those impromptu parties in Colonel Chambers’s spacious tent. He had been such a grand dancer; he had always made her feel as if she was floating over the dance floor. As if for one moment things were not so dark and complicated.

‘The fashions are perhaps a bit more à la mode as well,’ he said. ‘Yet I must say I think I prefer that tent in Spain.’

Catalina glanced past his shoulder to see that most of the crowd around them had turned to stare at him, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the long-lost Castonbury heir, found alive and returned amongst them. Most of the ladies were smoothing their hair or straightening their gowns as they watched him.

‘Too much attention here?’ she said. Jamie had never been one to seek to draw attention to himself. He had always quietly observed the world around him. He did not have to seek attention; it naturally came to him, as if all the light in every room collected only on him. And it had nothing to do with his rank, or even his handsome looks, but from that quiet strength at the core of him.

So much had changed since Spain, but that quality about him had not.

Jamie shrugged. He didn’t even turn to look at the room, he just watched her. ‘They are merely staring at my father. My siblings tell me he has seldom left the house these past few years. Everyone has forgot what he looks like.’

Catalina shook her head. ‘You know that’s not true. It’s you they want to see again.’

‘I am nothing to see. Just this blasted stick. They will tire of gossiping about me soon enough.’

She was sure that was not true, not when he had given them so much to gossip about. Coming back from the dead, an imposter wife and son, financial twists and turns, a passel of shocking marriages amongst his siblings—the scandal broth seemed bottomless. She didn’t want to add to it.

But there was still so much she longed to know. What had he done in Spain? ‘Jamie...’ she whispered. Someone jostled her from behind and she remembered that this vast crowd was no place for confidences. She spun away from him and slipped past the knots of people to Lydia’s side. Phaedra and her aunt Wilhemina were walking ahead of them, and Catalina could hear snatches of their conversation.

‘It is too bad Jamie can’t dance now,’ Phaedra was saying. ‘He used to enjoy it so much. And all the local ladies sought him out for their partners all the time.’

‘Hmph,’ Mrs Landes-Fraser said. ‘They should count themselves lucky he does not dance with them now. He has become far too dour and silent. Not to mention not as handsome as he once was.’

Catalina’s gloved hand curled into a fist as anger swept through her at those words. She had to bite her lip to keep from shouting in Jamie’s defence. But could she really defend him? She didn’t even know any longer.

Phaedra did it for her. ‘You can hardly blame him for being silent! He nearly died in Spain, and I am sure he saw some horrible things we cannot even imagine. He is not the person he was when he left. None of us are.’

Phaedra glanced over her shoulder, past Catalina to where Jamie still stood near the wall. Catalina looked back to see that a portly, red-faced gentleman and two young ladies had him cornered, talking at him as he stared at them with a frozen expression.

‘I only wish he could find someone to confide in,’ Phaedra added softly. ‘If I did not have my Bram, I would have gone insane sometimes.’

‘Hmph,’ Mrs Landes-Fraser said again. ‘You would have done much better to marry higher in the world, girl. I do not understand any of you children...’

Lydia drew Catalina’s attention then, pointing out a gown she liked across the room. They became separated from the others in the crowd, pressed in on all sides until Catalina managed to find them a spot near the windows where there were not quite so many people. There was a small breeze flowing from outside as well, and Catalina could watch the passing of the crowd as they flowed by.

‘Oh, Mrs Moreno,’ Lydia cried, her eyes shining with excitement as she looked out at the room. Catalina hadn’t seen her so happy in any London ballroom. ‘Isn’t it pretty? And everyone so welcoming. I could stay at Castonbury for ever.’

‘Miss Westman! Mrs Moreno,’ a voice called out. Catalina turned to see Mr Hale pushing his way past a laughing group to find them. His smile was just as enthusiastic as Lydia’s—especially when he looked at Lydia herself. ‘How wonderful to see you here. Are you enjoying our local entertainments?’

‘Oh, very much indeed, Mr Hale,’ Lydia answered. She didn’t look away from him.

‘It must seem very pale in comparison to London Assembly Rooms,’ he said.

‘Not at all. I much prefer smaller gatherings, where one can really talk to people,’ Lydia said as someone almost trod on her hem in the crowd.

‘Then perhaps you would honour me with the first dance?’ Mr Hale asked eagerly. ‘With Mrs Moreno’s permission, of course.’

‘Oh, yes, please, Mrs Moreno?’ Lydia begged. ‘I do so long for a dance.’

‘Then of course you may,’ Catalina said with a smile. ‘Go and enjoy yourselves.’

She watched as Lydia took Mr Hale’s arm and he led her to a place in the set now forming on the dance floor. She leaned back against the windowsill to let the cool breeze brush over her shoulders and examined the rest of the room.

As the dancers found their places on the floors, some of the crowd went on to the refreshment room and the crush was not quite so great. The duke sat in a large armchair at one end of the long room, watching the gathering as if he was its king. Some of the cousins were clustered around him with shawls and plates of delicacies, but he waved them away impatiently. Phaedra was dancing with her husband, and the portly man who had cornered Jamie was strutting about the room. But she could not see Jamie.

The musicians launched into a lively tune, not quite as smooth and skilled as a fine London orchestra but very enthusiastic. Catalina found herself tapping her foot in time to the music, and remembered again those dances in Spain with Jamie. His hand on hers, his arm around her waist as they spun in circles until she was laughing and giddy...

‘A glass of punch?’ she heard Lily say. A gloved hand held out a glass of pale pink liquid.

Catalina laughed. ‘Thank you. It is rather warm in here.’ She took a sip. ‘It’s...’

‘Sweet enough to make your jaw ache?’ Lily said. ‘Quite. The Buxton Assembly Rooms aren’t famous for their refreshments, I fear.’

‘They were much worse when I had to go with Lydia to Almack’s,’ Catalina said.

‘Were they? I must remember never to go there, then.’

‘But the music here is most enjoyable.’

‘So it is. And everyone seems happy to see the duke out and about again.’ Lily gestured with her glass at the line that had formed to greet the duke. ‘Do you not care to dance, Mrs Moreno?’

Catalina shook her head. Her dancing days were done, since she could no longer dance with Jamie. He was the only one she had ever wanted to dance with, no matter what else happened between them. ‘I have to look after Lydia.’

‘I am not dancing tonight either. Giles has gone off to the card room, the wretch,’ Lily said with a laugh. ‘But Miss Westman does appear to be having a fine time.’

Catalina watched as Lydia skipped and turned along the line with Mr Hale. A bright smile was on her face, and Catalina realised she had never seen the girl having such fun before. ‘So she is.’

‘She seems very sweet.’ Lily examined Catalina over the edge of her glass. ‘But you seem too young to already be resigned to playing duenna, Mrs Moreno. You should enjoy yourself as well.’

‘I am enjoying myself—in my way,’ Catalina answered. How could she tell this kind woman, this new bride, how it felt when romance and passion were behind her? How it felt when she could see them again, shimmering and enticing just for ever out of reach?

Lily looked doubtful, but she just nodded and went on to make polite conversation about the people who passed by. She told Catalina who they all were and how they all fit into the life of the neighbourhood.

‘And who is that?’ Catalina asked as the portly man passed by again.

Lily wrinkled her nose. ‘Sir Nathan Samuelson. A near neighbour to Castonbury. And a rather unpleasant individual, I fear. Don’t converse with him if you can help it, Mrs Moreno. He would never let you free again.’

‘I shall endeavour not to,’ Catalina said with a laugh. ‘He doesn’t look like someone I should care to meet.’

‘You heard of what happened lately at Castonbury?’ Lily said quietly. ‘With Miss Walters?’

Alicia—Jamie’s false wife. ‘Oh, yes.’

‘Sir Nathan seemed rather friendly with her for a time, after Lady Kate turned down his offer flat. He appeared to court her, or something like that.’

‘Something like that?’ Catalina said, confused.

‘I don’t know. I am not sure of the whole tale there. But I would never trust Sir Nathan.’

Catalina watched the man as he continued on his circuit around the room, and noticed that few people actually spoke to him. Everyone said Alicia had disappeared. Did he know where she was?

A group of people swept up to offer Lily best wishes on the wedding and were soon followed by even more well-wishers. Lydia never stopped dancing after the first set, and before Catalina knew it the evening had grown late. The breeze had gone still from beyond the window and the room was close-packed and warm.

As Lydia went off to dance with another young man, Catalina’s head suddenly throbbed. It had been a long day; it felt like a lifetime since she had come to Castonbury and found Jamie. Now the crowd and the noise seemed to press in around her. She couldn’t be such a ninny as to faint again!

‘I think I should find the ladies’ withdrawing room for a moment,’ she whispered to Lily.

‘Of course,’ Lily said quickly. ‘You do look rather pale, Mrs Moreno. There are so many people here on too warm a night. I will watch Miss Westman.’

Catalina looked to where Lydia was still dancing. She didn’t seem to look tired in the least. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, and made her way slowly around to the ballroom doors.

In the corridor outside, she glanced around for something resembling a ladies’ room but there was only more people, talking, laughing, sipping the sweet punch. She didn’t see Jamie there. It seemed he had made his escape from the assembly long ago.

Then a door opened and closed behind a loud group at the end of the corridor, and Catalina had a glimpse of a garden beyond. She hurried towards the beckoning cool darkness and slipped outside.

It was not a large garden, but it was quiet as it backed onto a narrow lane and a field beyond. There were large old trees and a few neatly kept flower beds lined with pathways and benches where weary dancers could catch a breath of fresh air. Catalina breathed deeply of the cool breeze, and let the dark silence wrap around her. She could still hear the strains of music, but it was faint and almost ghostly.

There were a few couples walking and whispering together, yet Catalina felt almost alone as she made her way along one of the winding paths. The solitude revived her, and she felt her headache easing as she came to the low fence at the back of the garden.

She leaned on the gate and stared up into the night sky. It was black and soft as a length of velvet, dotted with a few sparkling, diamond-like stars. The moon was creeping higher above the horizon, a few wisps of cloud lying over its glow like dark blue lace. The smell of flowers and fresh, green growing things hung in the air, banishing the scent of too many perfumes and too much sweet punch. And Catalina saw that it was a truly lovely night.

Even lovelier, knowing Jamie was alive and under this same sky. No matter what had happened between them, she couldn’t help caring about him.

There was a sudden sharp rustle from the field beyond the fence, and her heart leapt, startled. She held on to the top of the gate and peered out into the night. She had thought she was alone back here. Who would be creeping about there so late? A couple sneaking out of the dance? Someone from the town stumbling home drunk?

Or perhaps a thief?

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she thought she saw someone further down the narrow lane. It was a tall, thin man hovering near a wall, too far away for her to see him well. Yet somehow she sensed he was watching her. Watching—and waiting for something.

Catalina took a deep breath and stiffened her shoulders. ‘Who is there?’ she called out. ‘Do I know you?’

The man suddenly spun around and ran away. For an instant, Catalina saw the moonlight catch on some kind of bright-coloured hair and then he was gone.

She knew she should go back inside, but her heart was still pounding. She didn’t like the feeling seeing that figure left behind.

‘Talking to someone, Catalina?’ a man said, and she whirled around with her fists raised—only to see that it was Jamie who stood behind her.

‘You startled me,’ she gasped. ‘You move far too quietly.’

He gave her a wry smile. ‘My apologies. I will be sure to beat my stick against the trees next time. Are you alone out here?’

Catalina glanced back down the lane. The spot where the man had been was quite empty.

Feeling foolish, she hurried around the nearest tree and leaned back to let its solid trunk hold her up. It had been such a strange, dizzying time, she hardly knew what to say or think, how to behave. Her confusion only grew when Jamie followed her and stood close to her in the night.

She reached up, compelled to touch his face, to ease the tense lines on his brow with her fingertips. How well she remembered the feel of him under her touch! The skin smooth as taut satin over his sharp cheekbones, the roughness of the evening whiskers over his hard jaw. The new scar that arced along his cheek. He was close to her now, so close she could drown in the grey sky of his eyes.

She curled her fingers around his face and just looked and looked at him. Jamie, Jamie.

He, too, seemed enchanted by this moment out of time, woven out of the past and the magical attraction that still bound them together. Jamie caught her hand in his and turned his face to press a kiss in the cup of her palm. His lips were so soft and firm at the same time, so gentle where they touched her skin.

‘Catalina,’ he said hoarsely. His voice echoed against her hand and seemed to move through her whole body, right to her very heart. ‘I’ve missed you.’

His other hand slid around the nape of her neck, just under the loose knot of her hair, and he drew her even closer. So very close.

Catalina knew she should pull away from him, that this should not be happening. But she could no more leave him than she could cease to breathe. She craved Jamie’s kiss—she needed it. She had been so long without him.

Jamie’s movements were slow and gentle, giving her time to draw back from him—or to learn him again. As her eyes closed and she leaned into him, she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheeks, the heat of his body against hers, the clean, wondrously familiar scent of him. She twined her arms around his neck to bring him even closer to her. She felt the short, soft strands of his hair cling to her gloves and she went up on tiptoe as she held on to him.

Their lips met softly once, twice, as if they were slowly finding their way back to each other. Then temptation and heat rose between them as memories burst free, and Catalina couldn’t resist another second. Their mouths melded in a blurry, hot rush, and she felt his tongue seeking hers, tracing the soft seam of her lips before sliding inside.

‘Mmm.’ Catalina sighed at the taste of him. So dark and rich and just as perfect as she remembered. The smoothness of sweet brandy overlaying something more enticing and dangerous, something that was only him. She held on to him tightly and traced her tongue over his.

Jamie groaned and his arms closed hard around her. He drew her up against him until their bodies were as close as layers of silk and wool allowed them to be. But Catalina wanted to be even closer.

She slid one hand along the side of his throat and traced her fingertips over his chest. She could feel his strength through the crisp linen of his cravat and the smooth brocade of his waistcoat. She felt the small bump of her ring on its chain, and his heart leapt under her palm. A rush of joy went through her at the feel of its rhythm—it meant he was alive, that his heart at least still responded to hers even though their lives were separate now.

Then everything around her went soft and dark, and she was utterly lost in the kiss. Jamie’s kiss, his touch, had become the beginning and the end of the whole world, all she knew and wanted.

His lips slid away from hers and trailed over her cheek to press the tender spot just behind her ear. His breath brushed over her skin and she shivered. ‘Jamie,’ she whispered, clinging to him as the ground seemed to rock beneath them.

‘Say that again,’ he whispered as his fingertips softly brushed the underside of her breast through her grey silk gown. ‘Damn, your voice, Catalina—I’ve never heard anything like it.’

‘Jamie, I...’ she began, but her whispers and the harsh sound of his breath were cut off by a burst of laughter from further in the garden. Real life intruding on them yet again.

Catalina’s eyes flew open and she stumbled back from Jamie. His arms fell away from her and he stared at her with burning bright eyes. For an instant his cold, distant mask had dropped and she saw her own desire reflected in the raw agony on his handsome face.

But then he stepped back as well, and that smooth facade dropped back over him. It was as if he vanished from her all over again. Bitter disappointment flooded coldly through her veins, drowning out all the burning delight of rediscovering something that had once been so magical.

He ran his hand roughly through his hair and he stared at her as if he had never seen her before. ‘Catalina,’ he said, his voice low and harsh. ‘I am sorry—I don’t know what came over me. Old memories, perhaps.’

Old memories. Catalina nodded sadly. That was all that was left for them now, surely that was what Jamie was saying. ‘No. There is nothing to be sorry about, Jamie. Tonight was only an old dream of Spain, yes? It will vanish in the light. We will be as we are now. You don’t—you needn’t worry about me. I understand how things are for you. And I will never tell anyone what happened. As far as I am concerned, you are free.’

Jamie gave his head a fierce shake and opened his mouth as if he would say something more. As if he would argue or, even worse, apologise again. She couldn’t bear it if he regretted that perfect kiss along with everything else.

‘Just a dream,’ she repeated quickly. She gave him one more smile and whirled around to hurry from the garden as fast as her shaking legs could carry her. The laughing group that had emerged from the Assembly Rooms didn’t even notice her and she slipped past them into the corridor. She didn’t stop, and she didn’t—couldn’t—look back.

It wasn’t until later that she realised she had lost her shawl.

* * *

Jamie stood in the garden for long moments after Catalina left, letting the cool evening breeze wash over him. He was still not fit for polite society, for assemblies and dinners, polite conversation and manners. He should hide away in a quiet room, like a wounded bear, or he would only do such things as grab women and kiss them in public gardens.

No—not just any woman. Catalina.

He had only meant to speak to her, to find out what she was watching so intently out on the street, but as soon as he touched her it had had to be more. He’d had to do more.

Despite everything that had happened, all the complications of their past, the fact that she seemed to want nothing more than to forget him, he wanted her. The sparks that had ignited between them the first time they’d met were still there, binding them together. She drove him mad, as no other woman had ever done. And the taste of her kiss...

‘Blast it all,’ Jamie cursed, and turned away from the garden. As he looked back to the building, he glimpsed a length of pale fabric on the ground. Catalina’s shawl.

He bent to pick it up, and a hint of her sweet perfume rose from the soft folds. She would surely be missing it later, in the chilly rooms of Castonbury.

He had to return it to her—and to find out what she had been looking at out here that had startled her so....