Beauty in Disguise (8 page)

Unable to bear her reticence any longer, and worried about the injury to her neck, he spoke to her in a voice filled with awe, against the top of her head. “You are the bravest woman I have ever seen. You were magnificent, my fairy, you were smart and wonderful in a terrible moment.”

Dalton was wholly unprepared for the response his words wrought. It was as if actually speaking out loud broke her out of some protective shell she had placed around herself, and the floodgates opened. Her fists unclenched only long enough to grasp his lapels in a lifeline grip, and she turned her face into his chest and sobbed, a heart-wrenching pain...all in complete silence. He had never been so scared in all his life, fighting Bonaparte included.

He could feel the unrelenting rise and fall of her chest as she pulled in and released great breaths of air. But it was her tears, the silent sobs already dampening his shirtfront, that grabbed his heart with an emotion he had never felt before.

He only held her tighter, rocking gently as his cheek rested against her hair. Could he give her what she needed to get through this? He had never tried before. Many times he had had the unpleasant duty of informing a family at the loss of one of their men, but he had thought himself to be detached. He was detached. Yet this young woman made him wish he had learned to comfort in a way that would heal her physical as well as her emotional pain.

Slowly, and in the slightest of degrees, her sobbing eased and he realized that maybe time and a feeling of safety were all that he could give her. Maybe she had to let those inner demons painfully emerge, or she would have stayed in that shell as she had been on the bridge—shut out of the world and quickly building a wall to keep it out. This lovely woman had the presence of mind to release herself from a most dangerous situation before he had been able to do so. Now she was dealing with the emotional aspect of that action in a way more touching than he could have imagined.

Her sobs finally stopped, and he thankfully felt the small stages of release as she relaxed her tightly wound body ever more as the moments passed. Her breathing finally evened for such a long time that had her grip not remained strong and tight on his lapels, he might have believed her to have fallen into an exhausted slumber.

At this moment, however, he knew only aggravation, a futility that he could not carry her home in safety without breaking the peaceful and calming silence she had instigated.

“I must get you home. You need to be warmed by a fire, and your poor neck must be attended to.” He felt her begin to tense, so he began his gentle ministrations again, rubbing her back and whispering softly. “We will go very slowly. I will not jar you more than necessary. But you must tell me where to go. You may then relax and think no more of it. I will take care of everything.”

“No,” said the voice, so low he was not even sure she had spoken it.

“I hope you know I would give all I own to be able to hold you safe like this, but you will catch your death and we must bandage your wound. I will not leave you.”

“No,” she said again, shaking her head.

Dalton sighed but could not resist her. For the second time in his life, he evidenced the power a woman could wield over a man. It was unsettling. He vowed no woman would break his heart as Kathryn had.

She sat up and pulled back to look into his face. He thought she might regret being there with him, but he somehow believed she knew she would never need to be afraid of him.

“Sir, I owe you my life,” she began softly.

“No, I did nothing, you...” he began, but she stopped him with a hand to his lips.

Her touch brought on the desired silence.

She sniffled once again as he heard tears in her voice. He thought she was cried out. “I have nothing with which to repay you for my life, and even less with which to thank you for your...for this time. I promise you,” she continued, “I have never received such careful attention from another, and I will never forget it, never.”

He lowered his eyes to her neck and tried to make out the seriousness of the wound. He thought it would heal with little care, but he knew it to be painful, nonetheless. He gently reached a finger up to touch it and felt the rhythmic pulse that beat so quickly as his finger rested there. She was not as brave as she let on; her fear was still present.

She shook her head and brushed back his hand. “It is but a scratch compared to what could have happened. I will look upon it in the future and remember the blessing you have given to me instead of the horror of this night.”

She slid out of his arms and faced him, but he kept hold of her to steady her.

“You are correct, sir. I must go. But please, please accept my...heart...” she said intently, then looked away and cleared her throat, “my heartfelt thanks. I will never forget all you have done for me tonight.”

A sudden gust of wind blew the branches of the tree, allowing the moonlight to shine on them, illuminating their hiding place. He finally got a glimpse of her face, and he wanted to memorize her features.

What? He stared into the eyes she did not realize were uncovered. His hold of both her arms increased in intensity. “Kathryn?” He thought it must be a trick of the moon. He felt her tense in his arms.

“It
is
you!” He pulled her fully into his arms, holding her so tightly, unable to stop. Nine years slipped away as nothing, only now he knew he must hold her and never let her go.

He felt her grab on to his labels and turn her face into his chest. It was her. Kathryn. He could not see her clearly, but the moonlight had shown him enough. And she smelled so good. Would he ever forget that scent?

Wait. He
had
smelled it again,
recently.
Think, think,
he ordered himself. It was...it was Miss Montgomery! What was going on here?

Suddenly he moved her back to his arm’s length and stared into her eyes. She tried to pull free, and when she could not, she turned her face away.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He grabbed her chin with one hand and held it steady, staring into the eyes of the one woman he had thought never to see again.

“Well, well, Lady Kathryn,” he said with clenched teeth. “What game are you playing this time?”

Chapter Six

K
athryn’s first feelings when he pulled her to him were of hope. She felt as if she were home, where she belonged. But those feelings changed to fear and embarrassment at his words. How could she have let this happen? Two weeks, that was all—if she had just remained in her room for a fortnight, he would never have known. God still held a grudge, it seemed, and she had been stupid to test it.

At least she was to finally learn what would happen if he knew.

“I want an explanation. And I want the truth, if you please.” His arms still held her like a vise, and he used his power to make her stand perfectly still. But he could not wait for an explanation from her, it seemed. He was trying to make sense of it on his own.

“You... This cannot be.” She watched him, wary of what he would say next. “You and the companion...you smell the same. Are you masquerading here?” He shook his head, trying to understand, she supposed. She doubted he ever could.

“You wore this scent...back then. I could not place it on this woman, on you, until now. And the companion, Miss Montgomery, she wears it, as well. What game is this?” He said the last through clenched teeth, not realizing the grip on her arms would leave bruises tomorrow.

How could he remember her fragrance from nine years ago? If he only knew she was the woman on the bridge, she could have disappeared into Miss Montgomery, and he would never have found her again. But he remembered. Perhaps once past his initial anger, he would be happy to see her.

“What in the blazes is going on, Lady Kathryn?” He spoke her name as if it made him sick to say it. “Tell me the truth.”

“You already know most of the truth. I have never outright lied to you. I realize the sin of omission is not much different, but I did what I had to do.”

“Your definition of truth seems to be quite at odds with mine,
Miss Montgomery.
”

She tried to stem the anger that rose in her as he became dreadful. She balled her hands into fists and said, with as much grace as she could muster, “You have made your point, my lord. You know my name is Kathryn. Please use it or not, but stop your reminder of my crime.” This was so much harder than she had imagined. She had longed for the day when he would come to find her and would hold her hands and gently soothe her as she told him the truth. If that’s what he wanted, then that is what he would get. All of it.

“You wish to berate me.” She was no longer angry. She thought she had just faced the worst night of her life. All she wanted was to be safe and alone in her room. She even wanted to go back into the protective shell she wrapped around her on the bridge. But she knew now that the worst of this night was not over. “So be it. I deserve whatever you think of me.”

“What you deserve is little to the point...madame.”

Kathryn’s heart sank further still, but she would not let him see it. She saw no sympathy, only an angry bitterness that would not rest. Very well, she had known from that first night on the Rother River Bridge that the truth would give him a disgust of her, so it mattered little now.

“What do you wish to know, sir?” she asked him quite coolly.

“Great guns, what do you think I wish to know?” The words were ground out between clenched teeth. He soon began pacing from the tree to her and back again. “Why the disguise? Why the Dinsmores? Why deceive me?”

The last was ground out directly into her face, and the force of his emotions made her step back.

She could see now how she had hurt him. She always prayed that it would not be so, but God seemed to take her prayers and turn them around until they were the complete opposite of what she asked for.

“I will explain anything you wish, if you will only calm yourself.” She was once again the practical Miss Montgomery trying to defuse a volatile situation.

“Get on with it, then,” he growled.

“When my... When I determined I must make my own way in the world, I offered myself up into the two sacrificial positions allowed a lady—a companion and a governess.” She would not start at the beginning.

“I tried to find employment in Sussex County, but I was always turned away. No household, they informed me, would hire me because I was too young and too...”

“Beautiful,” he uttered, sitting down on the divided tree.

“You may use that word, my lord. I do not. My appearance has been a bane to my existence. I abhor the Society that expects all young women to be decorations for a man’s arm and income to his pockets, yet takes advantage of those same qualities in women of a different class.”

“You speak in riddles. What do you know of such things? Keep to the subject at hand.”

Anger began to grow in her. “Of course, my lord. Forgive me for making you feel uncomfortable. A thousand pardons, I assure you. One of
my
class must remember her station!”

“What in the blazes are you talking about?” Her words were bringing on the wrong reactions, but she was angry, too. “Now is not the time to discuss the evils of our society. We were speaking of
your
specific actions.”

“
Your
Society
is
the point, my lord. I could not look for a position in London because...well, you know why. I was shunned. And I could not get employment in Sussex because the men of your class have no compunctions or morals with the women of mine. And because their wives, who do the hiring, know it!

“I was fired from several positions, after being turned down for as many, because of my appearance. My qualifications did not matter. My honesty, my integrity, my determination—none of it mattered. Even my need did not matter. The only thing that mattered was that I was young and passable and my person might provide temptation to the males of the household. Not that I might do so, but the way I looked. How do you fight that, my lord?
You
tell
me!
”

She sensed she was finally getting to him through her outpouring of anger and resentment. “It seems it is common knowledge that young wives did not want young, beautiful servants in their homes, but I did not know it.” She poured out all of her pain on him.

His sarcasm abated somewhat. “Please continue, Lady Kathryn.”

“I
had
to have employment, my lord.” She was quieter now, giving details by rote with little emotion. “I had no choice.” She leaned against the willow tree branch and crossed her arms over her chest as she looked past him to the moon. Should she tell him now why she had run away from London, from him, so long ago? “And having no choice due to my mistake,
my big mistake,
I determined that if appearance was hindering my options, I would change my appearance.

“Miss Mattingly and I concocted the awkward, ageless Miss Montgomery, and it worked. I held two very respectable positions with exactly the same credentials as I had always possessed, but my homeliness made all the difference. So you may scoff and sneer as you like, but I will not apologize for having to outwit Society to survive.”

“I will grant you your disguise, then, Lady Kathryn, and allow you your reasons.” The tic in his jaw became more noticeable as he growled the rest of this speech. “What I fail to see is why you felt it necessary to continue to lie to me once I had seen the real you on the bridge?”

“You will
grant
me...you will
allow
me? I am indebted to you, I assure you.” Her sarcasm took her from quiet explanation to an angry lioness. But her tempest burned out quickly. “My lord, you know very well why I could not reveal myself to you. And how could I know that after meeting me on one occasion that you would again seek me out? You had no intimate knowledge of me, certainly nothing to warrant such persistence. And quite contrary to what you think, I planned as well as I could to avoid appearing as myself during your stay. I was not successful.”