The Notorious Widow (23 page)

“It will never be all right.” Her voice trembled.

“Of course it will. People will soon recognize Jasper for the villain he is.”

“It won’t matter.” Breaking into sobs, she dropped her face into her hands.

“Shush,” Catherine urged soothingly as the sobbing increased. “Nothing is worth such distress.” Laura did not deal well with crises. No matter what happened – a cut finger, a shattered vase, the childhood prank that had broken Mary’s leg – Laura’s reaction was the same. To her credit, she rarely repeated an error, but her inability to talk until her own distress had been relieved by lengthy tears irritated her family no end.

Catherine let her cry on her shoulder, stifling a heartfelt sigh. If Laura didn’t control herself soon, Rockhurst would find them.

“I’ve made a hash of everything,” Laura sobbed.

Catherine patted her back and made soothing noises, though curses paraded through her mind. The last thing Rockhurst needed was to see Laura in the throes of tears. That contretemps at the ball was bad enough. But she had no hope of moving upstairs until the storm was past.

It took longer than usual, hinting that the problem was serious. She took a firm grip on her composure. She could not afford to lose her temper, for that would send Laura into another outburst.

“Calm yourself,” she murmured as the sobs turned to hiccups. “It cannot be this bad.”

“It is,” mumbled Laura, keeping her face pressed into Catherine’s shoulder and her arms wound tightly around her neck.

“Did you kill someone?”

Laura shook her head.

“Did you destroy someone’s livelihood?”

Another shake.

“Have you burned down a house or sold a child into slavery as a sweep?”

“No.” Laura’s arms relaxed.

“Then things could be much worse. I doubt you’ve done anything that cannot be rectified, so tell me the tale.”

Laura sniffed, but sat up. Catherine pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it over, then waited while Laura wiped her nose and dried her eyes. She waited as Laura folded the handkerchief into a neat square, smoothed every wrinkle from the damp linen, set it on her lap, moved it to a table, moved it back to her lap, licked her lips, returned the handkerchief to the table, arranged her hands into three different positions, and sighed.

“I cannot help until I know the story,” Catherine reminded her. “It will not improve with keeping.”

“I know.” She moved the handkerchief to the couch, crossed her arms, pulled her knees nearly to her chin, then burst out with, “ItriedtocompromiseRockhurst.”

Catherine’s heart stopped. “What exactly did you do?” Keeping her voice steady was the hardest thing she’d done in her life.

Laura returned her feet to the floor and relaxed now that the truth was out and no one was screaming. “I sent him a message to meet William in the library, then sent William a message to meet Rockhurst there. Since William was in the stables, I knew Rockhurst would arrive first. I messed up my hair and gown and planned to hide behind the draperies until I heard William in the hall, then throw myself on Rockhurst so William would find us.”

“My God.” Her hand shook. “How could you abuse the hospitality of this house so badly?”

Laura’s face turned red. “I was desperate, Catherine. You saw how people looked at me last night. I needed to settle things, but Jasper’s affairs kept distracting him. I thought a little push would remind him to declare himself.”

“A little push? Forcing him to choose between an arrogant, unscrupulous wife and his place in society?” Her voice was rising.

“I’m not—”

“You
are
arrogant, Laura,” she snapped. “You assume that beauty will bring you anything you want, but beauty alone won’t hold a man, especially one like Rockhurst. He has his pick of beauties every time he visits London, most of them with large dowries. But he wants more. What did he do when you leaped out at him?”

“I didn’t.”

Catherine exhaled. Had Laura come to her senses in time? But she had barely formed the thought when Laura dashed it.

“He must have reached the library sooner than I had expected,” she explained. “Apparently he saw me and understood my intention, though I did not know that until William arrived half an hour later. He was furious.”

“Then he must have talked to Rockhurst.”

She flinched. “Rockhurst not only complained, but charged William with condoning my plot.”

“How often have I warned you to consider how your actions affect others?” Catherine demanded fiercely. Laura recoiled, but Catherine no longer cared. This was beyond heedless, ranking with Jasper’s plots for unscrupulous manipulation. “By summoning William, you involved him as surely as if he’d planned it. Rockhurst could blacken his name with a word.”

“He won’t. William was so furious with me that Rockhurst must believe him innocent.”

“We can only hope. But it is no thanks to you if he refrains from destroying us. And you’ve forfeited any chance to attract the man.”

“I never had a chance,” said Laura in a small voice. “William says Rockhurst despises me, comparing me to London fortune hunters. He thinks me forward and obnoxious, and accused me of validating the rumors that you taught me to be a wanton.” Again she burst into tears.

Catherine stalked to the window. It was the only way to keep from slapping Laura’s face.

Damn the girl for ignoring her advice. If only she had behaved as usual – but it was too late for regrets. Rockhurst was probably disgusted with the entire family. No wonder he thought George’s tale would force Jasper’s confession. He was so desperate to escape Seabrook, he would exaggerate every bit of evidence. Even his vow would not keep him here much longer. He could not risk another attempt to trap him.

Returning to the couch, she forced Laura to face her. “I am disappointed in you, Laura. No matter how much you like a man, forcing him into marriage will guarantee a life of misery. He would never forgive such dishonor.”

“I know.” She rubbed away tears with the backs of her hands. “And I am more dishonorable than you know. William forced me to admit that I don’t even like Rockhurst. I know very little about him and don’t care for what I do know.” She continued, but Catherine was no longer listening.

“You don’t like Rockhurst?” she gasped, shocked at the unthinkable admission. How could anyone not want him? He was the ultimate gentleman, the embodiment of everything good in the world. But beyond his fairness, his intelligence, and his impeccable manners burned more passion that she’d ever encountered. Her cheeks blazed at the memory of that kiss.

Her heart took flight, lighter than it had been in months. Relief, she assured herself briskly. Relief that Laura’s melancholy arose only from embarrassment and not a deep
tendre
for a man who had rejected her. She would not bear the pain of unrequited love.

“I don’t,” confirmed Laura, trying to laugh, though the sound was nearer a sob. “I have had little to do today but examine my feelings. Admitting that I don’t want him makes my plot even more shameful. I wasn’t seeking a husband but an escape from Seabrook. I cannot endure the cuts and rumors. I don’t know how you remain so calm.”

“One of the lessons that comes with age is that you can control no one but yourself. Weeping and wailing only turns others against you. And in my case, retaliation hurts Sarah.”

Laura wiped another tear from each eye. “If only Jasper had left us alone. I was happy before this started.”

Another fantasy, thought Catherine. Laura had long complained of boring days and provincial suitors. But she held her tongue. “Rockhurst believes he can force Jasper to confess his lies. I pray that he is right and is not rushing his fences to escape you.” She felt a measure of satisfaction when Laura’s face turned white.

“Make him understand that he is safe,” begged Laura.

“I doubt he would believe me. Nor will he slow his efforts now. He has already set his plan in motion. You had best pray that he is not acting hastily. If he fails, the situation will be worse than ever – and impossible to overcome.”

“What did he discover?”

She was angry enough not to care whether Laura was braced for the truth. “Jasper caused Papa’s accident.”

Horror drove away Laura’s embarrassment. “Jasper killed Papa?”

“Not intentionally, but yes. He did.” She repeated the main points of Rockhurst’s report.

“We owe him so much,” murmured Laura. “It makes my scheme even worse. How can I face him?”

“You will face him before dinner.” She met Laura’s eyes. “You will admit that you sought to attach his title and wealth. You will admit that you have no personal interest in him. You will vow to avoid him for the remainder of his stay. Then you will go to your room, where you will take all meals until he leaves.”

Laura nodded. “William said the same thing. You will be with me?”

“I will remain in the room to protect him from further insult, but I will neither support you nor prompt you. Only Rockhurst will hear your apology, but if you do not confess everything, including your motives, you will know that your dishonor remains. Do you wish to live with that?”

“No. I will do what needs to be done.” She picked up the handkerchief and left the drawing room. Catherine was pleased to note that her back was straight and her shoulders square. Maybe she had finally grown up.

Memory of Rockhurst’s kiss drove Laura from her mind. Had it meant anything? He had seemed as horrified as she. Except for his touching her hand, their talk in the morning room had been aloof. But his touch had offered only comfort, she reminded herself. The doctor had done the same thing when informing her that Harold was dead.

Yet she sometimes suspected interest. Warmth often flashed through his eyes. She had ignored it, for amber eyes were naturally warm, and his turned a compelling gold when anything interested him. But it was harder to explain his stare the first time he’d spotted her in Exeter. And what about that blatant arousal in the rose garden?

Hope revived, spinning fantasies she had never dared entertain – Rockhurst kissing her, touching her, even undressing her; Rockhurst sweeping her away to become his countess; Rockhurst falling madly in love with her…

“Idiot!” she said, berating herself more strongly than ever. The most she could expect was to become his mistress. Earls wed young ladies of impeccable breeding, ladies with large dowries, ladies who were accustomed to moving in the highest circles. She would fail miserably if thrust into a London drawing room.

But you are in love with the man, whispered her conscience.

“No!” She forced the thought aside. Granted, it would be perilously easy to take that final step, but she was not stupid. Loving him would cast a pall over her life worse than Jasper’s insinuations. He couldn’t reciprocate. Especially now. He would never trust a Seabrook again.

Thrusting thought of him out of her mind, she hurried upstairs to dress for a dinner she could no longer skip.

* * * *

Blake had never endured such an uncomfortable evening. When he reached the drawing room, only Catherine and Laura were there. He nearly retreated, but Catherine’s eyes promised safety.

He shouldn’t have believed them. She retreated to the window, leaving him to endure a halting, tear-filled apology that managed to insult him several times over. The high point of the evening was when Laura departed and he realized that she’d been confined to her room for the duration of his visit. Unfortunately, that left him alone with Catherine.

She was more aloof than he’d ever seen her, though he doubted that Laura’s failed scheme was responsible. His revelations would have revived her grief and added anger over Jasper’s attack. But the effect was worse than he had expected, casting doubts on his dreams.

His frustrations mounted as they conducted stilted conversation for the next half hour. Mary had unaccountably chosen to eat with Sarah. Even William’s appearance as dinner was called did little to lighten the mood. Embarrassment blanketed the cavernous dining room in a gloom that candles could not penetrate.

The result was the worst two hours of his life. William was mortified to the point of incoherence, finally retreating into a wineglass so he needn’t talk. His eyes never lifted from his plate. Catherine was remote, curtly changing the subject whenever he mentioned either Jasper or Laura.

He had hoped to learn more about the night of the accident, but it wasn’t to be. Everyone scattered after Rob served the sweet course. But despite crawling into bed early, sleep remained out of reach. Plots, motives, and questions paraded through his mind for hours, often overlaid by memories of touching Catherine, holding Catherine, kissing…

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Blake faced Squire Hawkins across the man’s littered desk, hoping the room’s jumble of papers and stacks of books indicated inadequate shelving rather than a disordered mind. He hadn’t admitted it to Catherine, but if Hawkins could not – or would not – help, he would have to concede defeat. Though he was convinced of Jasper’s guilt, George’s unsupported word was not enough to force a confession. Without a full confession, suspicion would forever attach to her name.

“I am investigating a complaint, not filing one,” he said in response to the squire’s question. Hawkins had been named a magistrate to fill the void created by Seabrook’s death and Rankin’s frequent absences.

“Then why come to me?” He reclined in his chair, folding his hands across an ample belly.

“For information. You’ve heard the rumors about Seabrook’s sister, of course.”

“Disgraceful affair!” His lips pursed.

“It would be if the tales were true, but they are not.” He leaned forward, gazing directly into Hawkins’s eyes. “In all the years I’ve known Seabrook, he has never lied, so when he begged my help to unmask the man who was fabricating stories about his sister, I had to agree.”

“Commendable, I’m sure, though I fear he is blinded by family loyalty. You do yourself no good by listening to him. Only yesterday I heard one man comment on your gullibility and another question your intelligence.”