Page 32 of The Virgin in the Rake's Bed
“Will Lady Millicent be joining you in the rhododendron bushes?” Samantha asked, and Rebecca laughed.
But Catherine did not find the matter amusing. Quite the opposite, in fact, it was deadly serious. She simply did not know whether Ian felt the same way for her as she did for him. The actions had been those of lovers, the words they had said in jest, but there was something missing, something which would secure Catherine’s happiness, a happiness she now realized she was missing.
“I hope she will not, for I hope he will say the words I so long to hear,” she replied, and Rebecca and Samantha glanced at one another with concerned looks.
“And what words are those?” Samantha asked, and Catherine looked at them both and sighed.
“I love you, that is all I want to hear,” she replied, hoping soon she would be told precisely that.
* * *
Ian was late in arriving at the park the next day. Catherine had performed her usual routine and made her excuses for leaving the house. Her father had not believed her, and neither had Rickard, even though she had assured them she was merely visiting with Rebecca.
A chaperone had been suggested, and Catherine had accepted, instructing Jenny to make herself scarce for a few hours and meet her later that morning. Thus, the carriage had brought her to the gates of the park, where now she waited eagerly for Ian. She looked from left to right, excited at the prospect of catching his eye.
She had thought a lot about Rebecca and Samantha’s words. Now was the time to make her own feelings known. She would tell Ian how she felt about him. It was surely all part of the seduction. She was looking in the opposite direction when she heard his voice, turning to find him striding toward her with a smile.
“Plotinus escaped,” he explained, and Catherine laughed, as he offered her his arm.
“Did you catch him?” she asked, and he nodded, showing her his hands, which were still dirty from the dog’s coat.
“I left him with Redbrand. He shall not be allowed out except on a lead from now on,” Ian said, shaking his head.
“The poor creature, it must be terrible to be so confined,” Catherine remarked, but Ian only laughed.
“There is nothing poor about him. Fed and watered, lying in front of the fire in luxury. No, Catherine, you should not feel sorry for him, not in the least,” he said, as they walked arm in arm through the park.
“I have no chaperone today,” she whispered, as they came in sight of the rhododendron bushes, and Ian paused, a strange expression coming over his face.
“Ah, well… you see, I rather thought we might walk by the lake today,” he said, and Catherine’s face fell.
She had been excited at the prospect of some fresh moment of seduction, to feel that same sense of excitement as she had done in his arms before. Her feelings were aroused, but now it seemed they were dampened, and she sighed, gazing longingly at the rhododendrons as they walked along the path toward the lake.
“It is a pleasant day,” she remarked, and he nodded.
“The sun is warm, and has brought out all manner of people,” he remarked, pointing across the lake to where ladies and gentlemen promenaded together, and children were playing on the grass.
There was a formality about him, quite different from their previous encounters. He seemed distant, as though not entirely comfortable in her company, and she wondered what had happened to cause such a change of heart.
“Are you all right?” she asked, wondering if perhaps he were distracted by a matter of business, or some other difficulty preventing him from being truly at ease in her company.
“Yes, it is… well, I think we should stop seeing one another for a while,” he exclaimed, and she looked at him in astonishment.
“What do you mean?” she asked, and he shook his head and looked embarrassed.
“It is just that I think we have gone too far in our deception,” he said, and Catherine’s heart skipped a beat.
Her question was answered there and then. This had all been a game to him, and now he believed it had gone too far. He was nervous of falling in love. Those words to Rebecca had merely been part of the ruse, and now that he had had his pleasure his true character would emerge. She was upset, but also angry at having been led such a merry dance, though one she could only admit to having enjoyed and played her part in.
“But surely that is the point of the deception?” she said, slipping her arm from his and turning to face him with a hurt and puzzled expression on her face.
“But we have gone far beyond what was expected of us. We need not continue with such intensity. The deception will still be maintained. Our betrothal is known of across the ton, and no one can doubt its sincerity. I will continue the ruse, as will you, but too much has already passed between us, and I fear it is… too much,” he said, as Catherine fought back the tears rising in her eyes.
How fortunate it had been that she had not yet had time to speak those intractable words, to tell him how she truly felt when all the while he had intended this course of action, his words cutting through her like a knife. They had shared such intimacies, and she knew more about him than perhaps anyone else with whom he had ever grown close. But it seemed even that was not enough to break down those last barriers which lay between Ian Bennet and true happiness.
He seemed incapable of seizing such a moment, of allowing himself to even know something beyond mere seduction. Catherine could not find it in herself to be so hard-hearted. She had fallen in love. Thoughts of spinsterhood were cast aside in favor of Ian and all that he could offer her. She loved him, and had she told him so, then what came next would have been even harder for them both.
“Then you do not wish to see me again?” she asked, and he shook his head.
