chapter Twenty
August 18
Saturday morning dawned bright, matching Sophie’s winsome birthday smile. Her daughter’s infectious exuberance swept through the household with a velocity that would rival the ton’s most determined gossip. By the time the festivities started, Catherine’s entire staff was giddy with anticipation and Sophie was near bouncing off the walls.
If Cochran’s threat hadn’t been hanging over her head and Sebastian’s peculiar statement ringing in her ears, Catherine would have enjoyed the day immensely. As it was, she glanced around the parkland like a nervous bird every five minutes, seeing strangers in their midst.
The gathering is a smashing success, Mrs. Ashcroft.” The vicar appeared next to her, juggling a heaping plate while following the children’s sack race. “Creating a life-sized version of Castle Dragonthorpe was no small feat.”
Catherine agreed. A drawbridge made of burlap, a moat outlined by timbers, and trellises for turrets took a great deal of ingenuity, but all the effort had been worth her daughter’s jubilation. “I’m glad you could come, Mr. Foster,” she said. “The day would not have been the same without you.”
Meghan McCarthy’s violent death has shaken Showbury’s residents,” he said. “Some have gone so far as to whisper names for the missing father.”
Catherine raised an eyebrow. “And, therefore, the murderer?”
Yes.” He wrestled a melon ball onto his fork. “This is a disturbing turn of events, but not surprising. In our grief, we believe the only way to set our loved one’s soul to rest is by punishing those responsible.”
Catherine caught sight of the earl strolling along the perimeter—er, moat—of Castle Dragonthorpe’s inner bailey. He projected calm and idleness. Few would recognize the occasional narrowing of his eyes or his preference for hovering near her daughter.
But justice,” the vicar continued, “is mankind’s tool, not God’s, for keeping peace and is society’s attempt at soothing the hollow ache of those left behind.”
Could the same philosophy be applied to Catherine? Was her effort to track down Jeffrey’s killer and bring the man to justice nothing more than an attempt to relieve the never-ending void of loneliness in her heart? Something she had lived with long before his death?
Forgive me, Mrs. Ashcroft.” His kind eyes roamed over her features. “This is not the place to discuss such a dreary topic. Today is about celebrating life and laughter.”
She smiled, thankful to be quit of the subject, even though a shadow lingered in her thoughts. “Indeed, Mr. Foster.” For what seemed like the hundredth time, her gaze sought out her daughter’s location and found her playing quoits with Teddy. “How is your courtship going?”
The vicar’s face reddened, then beamed with delight. “Miss Walker has consented to a drive and picnic tomorrow after services.”
Catherine placed her hand on his sleeve. “That is good news, Mr. Foster.”
Thank you. I appreciate your kind counsel on the matter.”
Good morning, Vicar. Mrs. Ashcroft,” a newcomer interrupted. “How do you fare today?”
Catherine started. Sebastian’s voice sounded inches from her ear. Lifting her gaze, she found him staring at her hand resting on Mr. Foster’s arm. She eased her fingers away and clasped her hands together.
I’m doing very well, my lord,” the vicar said. “How goes the search for a new steward?”
Slow, I’m afraid.” He scanned the gathering. “If you know of a dependable gentleman with legitimate references and experience, please send him my way.”
As it happens, I heard from an old university chum yesterday,” the vicar said. “His employer passed on and the heir is a bit of a scoundrel, or so my friend tells me. Timms is now considering his options. You’ll never meet a more honorable man. Such a shame, what’s happening, but fortuitous, don’t you think?”
Sounds just the thing, Mr. Foster,” Sebastian said. “Please have him come see me.”
Thank you, my lord,” the vicar said. “He’ll be delighted—”
My dear Vicar.” Catherine’s mother sailed into their midst. “I see you have cleared a spot on your plate. Come with me and I’ll introduce you to Cook’s famous lemon cheesecake.”
He hesitated, clearly not interested in giving up his tête-à-tête with the earl.
I promise you, sir,” her mother coaxed. “You shall not be disappointed.”
Pasting a vicar-like smile on his face, he said, “Pardon, Mrs. Ashcroft. My lord. I will return in a moment.”
Please do.” Catherine followed the duo until her mother began an animated conversation on—she squinted to make out the object of their attention—she knew not what.
Sebastian guided her away from her guests milling about. “You and the vicar were rather cozy.”
She sent him a sidelong glance. “I’ve told you before, he’s a dear friend.”
Dear enough to marry?” He must have regretted his query the moment it emerged, for he followed it with a rough command. “Forget it.”
That’s not possible.” Her daughter’s laughter caught her attention. She watched Sophie’s next throw and smiled when the shoe hit the iron hob. “Where is this line of questioning coming from, Sebastian?”
A full minute ticked by before he answered. “The vicar mentioned he was contemplating marriage during our ride the other day,” he said. “I thought perhaps you were his chosen bride.”
His jealousy should have irritated her, but instead, his gruff explanation charmed her. “No, Sebastian. The good vicar has his sights set on Miss Walker, and she on him. But neither have had the gumption to approach the other.”
I suppose you have been encouraging him to declare himself during your long drives?” he asked.
Fingers of heat spread into her cheeks. “Life’s too short to spend it alone and unhappy.”
She felt his searing gaze on her, but did not dare meet it. “How is that particular endeavor coming along?”
They’re going on a picnic tomorrow afternoon.”
What of you, Catherine?”
His low, intimate tone pierced her heart. “I don’t understand your question.”
What will you do once your mourning has ended? Will you seek a father for your daughter?”
Eventually,” she said. “I am wise enough to realize not all men are like my father and husband. Next time, I will choose more carefully.”
Indeed—” Something caught his eye over her shoulder. “Where is Sophie?”
She’s right over there.” Catherine swung around to where her daughter and Teddy were throwing quoits. Her eyes widened when she found nothing but two iron hobs sticking out of the ground and their discarded quoits. “Sebastian,” she whispered. “I saw them playing not but a minute ago.”
Calm yourself,” he warned. “There are many tempting items in your make-believe castle to draw their attention.” He peered over her shoulder and flicked his index finger in a sharp circle. “Let us make a circuit of the area.”
Yes, of course.” She accepted his arm. “Cochran would be a fool to attempt something while so many people are in attendance.”
And yet a crowd can provide the best cover.” He glanced down at her. “I mention this not to frighten you, but to keep you from becoming complacent. You must never, ever underestimate your enemy.”
Catherine’s heart hammered within her chest. She did not like this spying business. Before this was all finished, she was quite certain her heart would never pound again.
They made a full circle around the crowd without one glimpse of a golden-red mop of curls. Her trepidation grew. She had made Sophie promise to stay within sight today, an edict that engendered a great many moans. But Catherine had never considered her daughter would disobey her in this way.
When Sebastian finally drew them to a halt, the muscles in Catherine’s throat ached from her effort to hold back the compulsive scream of her daughter’s name. She peered up at him. “I will round up several of the adults to scour the area. I don’t want to scare the children.” The moment she made to pull away, he covered her hand.
A moment.” Rather than searching the area again with a thorough sweep of his gaze, Sebastian’s attention jumped from one point to the next.
Sebastian, please.” She pulled at her hand. “I cannot stand this inactivity.”
He nodded at someone in the distance, and the tension faded from his taut features. “Come, I believe we missed a hiding spot.”
Confused by his odd behavior, Catherine accompanied him across the lawn without a word, although she chafed at his unhurried pace. He stopped next to the dessert table and pointed to a two-inch gap between tablecloths. “Your damsel in distress, madam.”
Catherine crouched down and peered into the gap. Sure enough, Sophie and the stable lad, Teddy, sat beneath the table, alternately stuffing chocolate puffs into their mouth and staging battles with pieces from her daughter’s Dragonthorpe collection.
Sophia Adele, may I see you for a moment?”
Round blue eyes peered through the opening.
Catherine crooked her finger.
Do not kill my gargoyle while I’m gone, Teddy. I’ll be vexed.” Her daughter scampered out from beneath the table. She brushed an incriminating crumb from her lavender skirts. The half-mourning color was a small concession for her party. “Yes, Mama?”
Catherine grabbed her daughter’s hand and led her several feet away. “Did you not promise to stay within sight?”
Sophie glanced back at the table.
I shall have your full attention, young lady.” Catherine waited until her daughter’s gaze returned to hers. “Did I not tell you, if you can’t see me, I can’t see you?”
But, Mama,” Sophie said. “I could see you.” She indicated the space between the tablecloths, where Teddy now watched her daughter’s scolding with rapt attention. “I saw you chatting with the vicar and strolling with the earl.”
Catherine blinked, unable to think of a response to her daughter’s six-, or rather, seven-year-old logic. “Do you know the scare you gave me?”
I’m sorry, Mama.” Sophie turned her doleful blue eyes on her. “Please don’t be upset.”
Cupping the back of her daughter’s head, Catherine kissed the vixen’s forehead. “I’m not, but allow me to clarify my statement. We must both be able to see each other.”
Sophie nodded, her gaze going back to the table again.
None of that, dear,” Catherine said. “You have many guests to attend. All of your time cannot be spent with Teddy, no matter how tempting.”
Do you think the earl would mind if Teddy came along to see his horses?”
Catherine glanced back to find Sebastian encouraging the boy from beneath the table. “There’s only one way to find out, and that’s to ask.” She held out her hand when Sophie started to rush over to her two favorite men. “Make your request like a young lady, title and all.”
Her daughter smiled. “Thank you, Mama.”
She took off, but immediately slowed her breakneck pace to a more sedate stroll. Well, almost sedate. She looked the epitome of sweetness from the waist up. However, her feet were throwing up patches of grass in her wake.
Stopping before Sebastian, Sophie executed a perfect curtsy. “Good afternoon, Lord Somerton. Are you enjoying my birthday celebration?”
He bowed. “Indeed, I am.”
She waved her hand toward her friend. “I see you’ve met Teddy. Did he tell you about his mama?”
Sebastian glanced at Catherine, a glint in his eyes. “I’m afraid not.”
Sophie sent her friend a sympathetic look. “His mama is terribly ill.”
I’m sorry to hear that, Teddy.”
The stable lad’s face flamed. “Thank you, sir.”
He loves horses.” Her daughter bent at the waist until Sebastian’s attention shifted back to her. “The only horses he sees all day are Guinevere and Gypsy. Sweet creatures, but they cannot compare to a whole barn full of horses.” She rose up on her toes as if to punctuate her statement, an expectant look lighting her cherub face.
Hmm.” Sebastian rubbed his jaw. “As it happens, I have a whole barn full of horses.”
Sophie clapped her hands together, looking from Sebastian to Teddy. “I know.”
In a conspiratorial whisper, Sebastian asked, “Do you think your friend would like to join us later this afternoon?”
Her daughter let out an excited squeak. “Teddy, the earl has invited you to see his horses. Maybe he’ll let you ride Cira, too.”
Catherine raised an eyebrow, but Sebastian kept his gaze on the boy.
Teddy smiled, revealing the beginnings of a new tooth coming in. “Thank you, m’lord.”
Oh, dear me.” Sebastian laid an exaggerated hand to his chest, a look of consternation on his handsome face.
Sophie and Teddy shared a worried glance. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
I just recalled something very important. Something that might change your mind about visiting my stables.”
Catherine watched her daughter slip her hand into Sebastian’s. “Don’t worry, sir. Teddy and I will want to see your stables, no matter what.”
Truly?” He looked between two pairs of earnest eyes. “Even if I don’t have a red horse?”
Sophie frowned and Teddy looked bewildered. Catherine covered her mouth to hide her smile.
Then Sophie noticed Sebastian’s lips twitch. “Oh, Bastian. Horses are nothing to joke about.”
Sophie,” Catherine scolded. “You must not be so informal with his lordship.”
I gave her leave to do so.” Sebastian sent her daughter a gentle smile. “Didn’t I, sprite?”
She giggled. “Yes, Bastian. If I’m a sprite, does that make Teddy a brownie?”
Sebastian, bless him, tousled poor Teddy’s hair. “What do you say, lad? Would you like to be a brownie to Miss Sophie’s sprite?”
He gave them another gap-toothed grin. “Brownies like barns, don’t they, sir?”
Indeed, they do.”
Then I shall be a brownie.”
And I a sprite.”
And I Bastian.”
Three pairs of eyes turned toward Catherine. “What?”
What shall we call you?” Sophie asked, bouncing with excitement.
Um… Mama?”
Sophie groaned, Teddy ducked, and Sebastian smiled.
Let us give your mother’s nickname some thought, shall we?” Sebastian suggested. “In the meantime, I believe sprite has a few guests she needs to greet.” He glanced at Catherine for confirmation.
Off you go,” she said.
Come on, Teddy,” Sophie said. “Let’s see who we can get to bob for oranges.”
Oranges don’t float,” he protested.
Precisely, you silly brownie!”
Catherine shook her head, enjoying Sophie’s boundless good cheer.
She is a marvel,” Sebastian said.
Yes.” Catherine peered up at him. “You’re very patient with her, Bastian.”
A tinge of color darkened his cheeks, and Catherine’s unsteady wall crumbled to the ground.
Years ago, when my wards were young and grieving over the loss of their parents, I made many mistakes.” He met her gaze. “Not knowing if I would be alive or dead from one day to the next, I taught them skills that might one day save their lives, and I ensured they never had to be concerned about finances.”
Where is the fault in your actions, sir?”
I kept them at arm’s length, praising them rarely and hugging them never.” He released a shaky breath. “I told myself it was for their own good. So they would never feel the devastating loss of a guardian again.”
In your own way, you were trying to protect them,” Catherine said. “No matter how hard we try to do right by our children, we will inevitably get it wrong at times. Take my current circumstances, for instance.”
As if they read each other’s mind, their gazes sought out Sophie.
Yes, well,” he said. “I lied. To myself. You see, before joining the Alien Office, I wanted a wife and family. Desperately. But after my mentor’s and his wife’s brutal murders, I suppressed the need. Keeping the two young deBeaus at a distance was as much for my protection as theirs. In the end, I fell in love with the little terrors anyway. Too bad they will never know.”
Pardon, m’lord. Ma’am.” A maid with cropped sable hair and a scarred left cheek held out a tray of oysters nestled in scallop shells. “Care for one?”
Sebastian stiffened. “No, thank you.”
Are you sure, sir?” she asked. “I hear they’re a right treat.”
Catherine noticed Sebastian’s complexion turned a nasty shade of red. Thinking he was upset by the maid’s interruption, she said, “Thank you…”
Belle, ma’am,” she said with a curtsy.
Belle, I should like to try one.” She picked up a shell. “My mother is quite fond of these. Please see if she would like one.”
Yes, ma’am.” She curtsied again. “Sir.”
The moment the maid turned away, Catherine saw Sebastian’s eyes narrow on the young woman’s back. “My housekeeper must have hired additional staff for today.”
Why do you say that?”
Besides Belle, I see two other unfamiliar maids and a couple new footmen.”
He sent her a sidelong glance. “Care to point them out?”
Feeling ill at ease with his request, Catherine located the older maid weaving through the guests. “The buxom maid striding by my mother.”
Steel-gray eyes followed her direction, his lips thinned. “Who else?”
The distinguished footman with a queue helping Belle fill her tray with more delicacies.”
Go on.”
Near the bevy of young misses is a roguish footman with black-as-night hair eyeing Miranda Walker.” The gentleman glanced in their direction before turning back to his companion.
The earl nudged her in the opposite direction. “Any other foreign faces?”
Only the tall maid, with the black hair and spectacles.”
Sebastian stopped and performed a surreptitious scan. “I don’t see a black-haired maid.”
Catherine followed his lead. “She looked to be taking care of refreshments and cleaning away dirty dishes. I do not see her now.” A thought struck her. “You don’t think those people work for Cochran, do you?”
Doubtful, but I will look into it.” He resumed their stroll, halting a few feet behind the vicar and her mother. “You concentrate on making Sophie happy. I’ll look into the matter of the servants.”
But—”
Trust me,” he said. “I might be a failure in the area of finer feelings. But, when it comes to protecting those under my charge, I am unmatched.”
Emotion gripped her chest, and Catherine wanted nothing more than to kiss the man silly. She settled for a hand on his sleeve. “I have not found you lacking in either pursuit, my lord.” Something feral and very male entered his expression. Catherine swallowed and retreated with a pat to his arm. “Very well, my lord. See to the mysterious servants and I’ll take care of my daughter.”
His heavy-lidded gaze did not budge from her face for several heart-pounding seconds. Catherine began to fear he would do something embarrassing—and highly enjoyable—like kiss her.
Then he drew back a step and inclined his head. “Until later.”
Catherine forced her gaze to sweep over her guests, rather than follow Sebastian’s progress. Had she done otherwise, she would not have been able to mask the yearning burning in her soul.
***
Arm in arm, Catherine and Sophie strolled down the path leading from the barn to the house. Dusk was on the horizon, signaling the end to a memorable day. Catherine glanced down at her daughter’s bent head. “What’s the matter, dear?”
She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “I wish Teddy didn’t have to do chores.”
Me, too, sweetheart.” Catherine hugged her closer. “But that’s the deal he struck with Carson so he could spend time with you today. He made a choice, one he seemed more than content with.”
I suppose so.”
They entered the house and made their way to the nursery. “It was kind of you to include him on your tour of Lord Somerton’s stables.”
Bastian’s horses were grand, weren’t they, Mama?”
Very grand.”
Did you see me ride Cira?”
Indeed, I did. You were quite accomplished, young lady.”
Sophie beamed. “I thought about asking Eloisa Walker, but she would have complained about the smell the whole time.”
Then it is good you didn’t extend an invitation.”
She might be miffed at me.”
Catherine held back a smile. “I’m sure you will have no problem coaxing her out of her pout.” She pushed open the nursery door and found Mrs. Clarke pacing inside.
The governess swung around, her eyes red-rimmed and her hair askew.
Oblivious, Sophie ran to her faux governess. “Mrs. Clarke, you should have joined us. So many lovely horses.”
The governess rested her hand on Sophie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I missed your outing. Sounds like you had an exciting time.”
Sophie’s smile diminished. She reached up to trace a fingertip over Mrs. Clarke’s blotchy cheek. “Does your head still hurt?”
Fresh tears wobbled in the woman’s eyes. “Somewhat. Thank you for asking.” She grasped Sophie’s hand in both of hers, kissing her fingertip. “Now we must wash the barn from your body.”
Her daughter groaned.
Perhaps we can hold off until tomorrow morning, Mrs. Clarke,” Catherine suggested.
Sophie turned wide, hopeful eyes on her governess.
Mrs. Clarke nodded. “As you wish, ma’am.” To Sophie she said, “I have your nightclothes laid out in the other room. Let us get you ready for bed.”
Sophie,” Catherine said, “get started without Mrs. Clarke. I need to speak with her for a moment.”
Her daughter tore across the chamber and flung herself into Catherine’s arms. “Thank you for the best birthday ever.”
Tears stung the back of Catherine’s eyes. “You’re welcome, pumpkin.” She kissed her nose. “Now off with you.”
Sophie skipped from the room, leaving two teary-eyed women behind.
Why are you here?” Catherine asked in a quiet voice.
To watch over your daughter.”
Yes.” Catherine clasped her hands together. “That’s why Cochran brought you here. What I want to know is why you are here.”
A haunted expression froze the governess’s features. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Catherine shuffled closer. “Don’t you?”
The governess shook her head, her lips firming to stop their trembling.
Closer still. “I recognize a mother’s fear,” Catherine pressed.
Mrs. Clarke’s eyes closed briefly. When they opened again, bleakness penetrated their depths. “Please don’t.”
Why? There is no one to hear.”
A maniacal laugh burst from her lips. “There is always someone to hear, Mrs. Ashcroft. Never doubt it.” She threw off her grief as if it were a cumbersome mantle. “Now, if you will excuse me. I must attend your daughter.” With that pronouncement, the woman marched into the next chamber.
Catherine’s gaze cast about the nursery, recalling Sebastian’s warning never to underestimate her enemy. Feeling heartsick, she left her enemy behind to tend her daughter. Two doors from her bedchamber, she rounded the corner and came to an abrupt halt.
In the middle of the dimly lit corridor stood Silas, looking more tattered than normal, with his neckcloth missing and an unflattering amount of flesh showing. The area around his mouth glistened in a way that turned Catherine’s stomach, and she could see he was holding something behind his back.
Have you anything for my master?”
Why was he asking now rather than waiting until her return later this evening? Much about Silas tonight seemed stranger than normal. Thank goodness, she and Sebastian had been able to sneak away for a little while to discuss their next steps while Bellamere’s stablemaster fielded Sophie’s and Teddy’s many questions. Recalling Sebastian’s instructions, she said, “This afternoon, I found what looked like a catalog of names and locations, but everything appeared to be in some type of code.”
How many traitors are on the list?”
Her heart froze in her chest. They had not discussed numbers. “I didn’t count them.”
His head tilted to the side and he seemed to be playing with something in his teeth. “What is your best guess, madam?”
What would be a believable number? One that wouldn’t be laughable or too extraordinary, but large enough to give Cochran pause? She released a slow breath. “If I had to guess, I would say between twenty and twenty-five.”
He stared at her, unblinking, for several bone-racking seconds. “When can you make delivery?”
Within the next couple days, I suspect.”
Not sooner?”
I don’t see how,” she said. “The list is in his lordship’s bedchamber. It’s difficult to copy something so well hidden when I’m rarely left alone.”
Then do not copy it. Bring the original.”
The longer they spoke, the more agitated he became. In a level voice, she said, “Mr. Cochran’s instructions were quite clear, sir. I am not to arouse Lord Somerton’s suspicions. If I take the list and he’s still cataloging agents, he will warn every member of the Nexus.”
As if Silas weren’t peculiar-looking enough, his right eye twitched when angered.
Are we finished here, Mr. Silas?”
The twitching grew worse. He nodded but did not move out of her path. And his hand remained half hidden behind his back.
Catherine lifted her chin and strode forward. “Good night, Mr. Silas.”
His arm swung out, and Catherine saw something large and cudgel-like in his hand. She gasped, ducking beneath the cover of her arms, and waited.
Nothing happened.
Then came a disgusting sucking noise. Easing up from her crouched position, she saw the sound was coming from Silas’s mouth. He was ripping chunks of meat off a large bone with his jagged teeth. Juices from the succulent piece dripped down his chin and landed on his bare chest.
Bile shot into the back of her throat.
Your reflexes are much better than his lordship’s.” He cocked his head to the side. “And you did not wail like the Irish girl.”
She pressed her back against the wall. “You’re the one?”
It was then Silas did something even more terrifying. He smiled. An awful smile, filled with bits of meat and rotting teeth. Evil.
His lordship interrupted my search.”
What were you looking for?”
The same as you, madam.”
What of Meghan McCarthy?”
She had become burdensome to my master.” He jerked his head toward the empty corridor. “His lordship awaits.”
The conversation concluded, and Catherine was glad of it. Once she had scooted clear of her gaoler, she ran the short distance and slammed her door shut. She knew he would follow, knew he would eventually bed down outside her door. The hour she sought her bed might change from night to night, but Silas’s constant guard never faltered.
They had killed Meghan. Did that mean Cochran was the father? It must, but how? He had only arrived a few days ago. Had he been watching her for much longer? Or waiting for Jeffrey to make an appearance? Had he been the one to kill Jeffrey, too? Perhaps his letters were warning Sebastian of Cochran’s perfidy. Good Lord, could this situation get any more complicated and dangerous?
She reviewed her brief conversation with Silas. Had the seed she’d planted taken root? Had it burrowed deep into Silas’s fertile mind? Could he even now be making his way to Bellamere to steal the nonexistent list of agents? She fought to control her fear for Sebastian. Would he be ready for Cochran’s miscreant?
The thought of something happening to Sebastian scorched her soul. So many depended upon him, and England’s safety revolved around his continued leadership of a little-known group of spies. Moreover, she would miss him.
She drew in a deep breath and transformed her fear into faith. He was England’s greatest spymaster, a man sworn to protect his countrymen and one who’d promised to keep her and Sophie safe. A villainous official and a puny footpad would be no match for Sebastian’s lethal mind.
Squaring her shoulders, she clicked the fragile door lock in place, knowing it provided minimal protection. She strode to her dressing table and peered in the looking glass at her hair. The wind had not been kind.
She located the painted porcelain dish, which held her stash of pins. And that’s when she noticed the letter. Her name was not written on the front, nor did it contain an address. But the missive sat propped between a bottle of lotion and a tin of powder. She glanced around the chamber. The room was quiet, almost as if it held its breath, waiting for her to assuage her curiosity.
A heavy blanket of dread bore down on her as she reached for the scrap of paper. Unfolding the note, she read the neat but hastily written message. By the time she reached the end, the words were hidden behind a veil of tears and the pressure around her chest threatened to suffocate her.
Sebastian.”
***
Catherine peered down at the anonymous letter again, her tears making the feminine handwriting blurry and incomprehensible. She stared at the author’s name. Cora-belle.
Cora. Lord Somerton’s ward, or rather former ward. She was here. And sometime during the festivities, she had invaded Catherine’s private quarters and used her personal stock of paper to write a devastating letter.
My dear Mrs. Ashcroft,
I risk discovery to bring you the truth about Lord Somerton’s care of my brother Ethan and myself. Not only did the earl offer shelter to two grief-stricken orphans, who were no relation to him, he gave us a home, one complete with all the comforts a child could want and all the parental devotion a child might need.
Never once in all the years I lived beneath his guardianship did I doubt his love for me. There are many ways to love another, and all do not require a confession of emotion. Love is in the heart, and I see it shining in his for you.
If you feel the same, which I believe you do, seize this moment. He will never give you a day where you doubt his affection, for his is the truest of hearts.
Warmly, and your new admirer,
Cora-belle
PS—Lord Somerton can at times be rather mulish in his protection of those he loves. Sometimes that noble quality can lead to sacrificial decisions. If you need suggestions on how best to knock some sense into him, I am at your service.
With trembling fingers, Catherine set Cora’s note down and wondered how her life had become so complicated so fast. Her love for Sebastian grew with every encounter, and not even his alleged involvement in Jeffrey’s death had stopped her from plunging in over her head. How had she managed to attach her affections to a man even more obsessed with his cause than either her father or her husband?
A low knock sounded, and Catherine stiffened. She hastily wiped her eyes and tucked the missive away. At the door, she asked, “Yes?”
May I come in, daughter?”
Catherine patted her cheeks and hair and ran her hands down the front of her dress before unlocking the door. Brown eyes, not dissimilar from Catherine’s own, rounded at the sight of her daughter’s ravaged face. Her mother rushed forward, slamming the door closed behind her and enfolding Catherine in her arms.
Oh, daughter,” her mother whispered. “All will be set to rights.”
The warmth, the security, and the familiar scent of gardenias in her mother’s embrace propelled Catherine back to her adolescence. The traitorous tears came faster. “It’s too much.”
No, it’s not.” Her mother clasped her tighter. “You have a strong spirit, one that will see you through this and many more challenges in the years to come. Do not give in to the fear. Sup from it, draw strength from it. Then vanquish it.”
Catherine pulled away, swiping at her face. “Silas admitted to attacking Lord Somerton and killing Meghan McCarthy.”
Dear God.”
There’s so much at stake, Mother. One wrong word or one erroneous act, and I could lose my mother and daughter and the man I—” The damning words stuck to the back of her throat.
Keen-witted woman that she was, her mother offered, “The man you love?”
Closing her eyes, Catherine fought back a wave of shame. “Caught in my own tangled web.” She drew in a deep breath and stepped away as an unaccountable chill settled in her bones.
Do not be so harsh on yourself, daughter,” her mother admonished. “Given the circumstances, you were left with few choices. As for you falling in love with his lordship,” she propped her hands on her hips, “many a male neighbor and traveler has tried to seduce you into their beds over the last few years, with no success. So I suspect there’s something rather special about Lord Somerton, or you would have sent him to the devil with all the rest.”
Using her fingertips, Catherine placed pressure on each throbbing temple. “For years, I viewed Lord Somerton as a cold, reclusive man with little interest in his country estate.”
And now?” her mother asked.
Now, I see that he is everything I was certain he wasn’t.” She thought of his kindnesses toward Sophie, his sense of urgency with the tenants and the various repairs, and his unwavering determination to find Meghan McCarthy. And then there was the way he had ripped away her loneliness with a single, passionate kiss. “Even so,” she wrapped her arms around her middle, “I will never go back to my former half-life. For years, I wondered what horrible thing I had done or hadn’t done to cause Sophie to lose her father. All those worries and recriminations were for nothing. I suffered years of useless guilt. Never again.”
Catherine halted her monologue long enough to draw in a calming breath. “This might sound selfish, but I’m beyond caring. I want a gentleman who will put me—and my daughter—above all else. Someone who will love me and stay by my side, no matter how badly I vex him.”
Her mother’s smile was a mixture of pride and sorrow. “As you should, daughter.”
Catherine did not know how to ease her mother’s past regrets. “Mother, we must all begin anew.” Catherine squeezed her mother’s hand. “Let us put the past to rest.”
Her mother peered down at their joined hands, saying nothing. Then her free hand covered Catherine’s. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, I do believe you’re right.” With her normal fortitude, her mother collected herself. “The seed is planted?”
Nodding, Catherine asked, “Did you pass Silas outside my door?”
No,” her mother said. “Nor did I see him lingering outside the nursery.”
Silas’s unusual behavior and Mrs. Clarke’s tear-stained face made Catherine uneasy. “I’m so torn. I need to convey Silas’s confession to Lord Somerton, but I also wonder if I should forego visiting him tonight.”
Why is that, dear?”
Our unwanted guests appear out of sorts, don’t you think?”
Not anymore than normal, but I haven’t seen either one since before you left for Bellamere’s stables.” Her mother glanced at the closed door. “If you stay, you take the risk of agitating Silas. He doesn’t seem the type one should provoke.”
Catherine recalled the man’s twitching eye, awful smile, and vile confessions and decided her mother was correct. “I suppose, though my stomach is not happy about it.”
Checkmate, My Lord
Tracey Devlyn's books
- The Wife, the Maid, and the Mistress
- Love, Your Concierge
- Her Secret, His Duty
- Calmly, Carefully, Completely
- Stolen: Warriors of Hir, Book 3
- Tall, Tatted and Tempting
- Completely Consumed (Addicted To You, Book Eight)
- Desperately Devastated (Addicted To You, Book Nine)
- Evolve Series, Book 1
- Everything, Everything
- Hello, Goodbye, and Everything in Between