Page 84 of Miss Desirable
He was, or he was trying to. All the focus and devotion Catherine had longed for from him in Rome had become her worst nightmare over the past several weeks.
“I know the lawyers are talking,” she said. “I know you seek marriage, and…”
“And what?”
And I do, too, but not to you. Never to you.“Settlement negotiations fail all the time, my lord. Engaged couples then have to ‘find that they don’t suit.’ The lady becomes an object of pity as her family renews the matchmaking campaign mere days later, and the fellow is abruptly required at the home of some distant uncle in the north. I am already Miss Dubious, and I refuse to become the butt of more unkind speculation if you catch the eye of a wealthier heiress next week.”
“Your actual appellation was the Diplomat’s Dubious Daughter. I thought the alliteration rather a nice touch, myself.”
The anxiety Catherine had borne since Fournier’s departure twisted into a clammy snake of fear. “Yougave me that name?” She’d suspected as much, but not that he’d casually admit his perfidy.
“I was protecting you from your wayward nature. If you were shunned, you were less likely to share your favors again, also less likely to be believed if you started talk about me. I am not stupid, Catherine, and you underestimate me at your peril.” He crossed an ankle over a knee, probably intending to look rakish. “I have sent a man to France, specifically to Cahors. I know your secrets. I have known the generalities for some time, and I will soon have the specificsin hand, as it were. Don’t make this any more difficult for yourself than it has to be.”
I know your secrets.A jingle of harness beyond the garden wall added an incongruously merry note to the quiet of the spring morning. Nothing had changed outwardly. The day was still sunny and pleasant. Catherine was still in good health and possessed of a sizable fortune.
But her dreams were shattering like wine glasses dropped to the hearthstones, just as they had when she’d realized Armbruster would not marry her. That he would come along and wreck her lifeagain—this time by forcing her to the altar—gave her a measure of renewed determination.
She was Marie’s mother and Fournier’s beloved,and the fight was not over.
“I am willing to marry you,” she said slowly. “We can cry the banns as soon as Kettering tells me the settlements are resolved.”
Armbruster considered her as he would a supposedly valuable painting that might be a forgery. “No banns,” he said. “I have a special license, and you have pots of money. The settlements will be agreed to within a matter of days.” His manner leftor elsewafting about on the morning breeze.
Or else you will not see your daughter ever again?Fournier had seen that possibility more clearly than Catherine had.
“A special license makes the whole undertaking look hasty,” Catherine said, rising. “Of all brides, you must know I should not be hurried to the altar.”
“Of all brides, you must know that maidenly vapors and further deceptions will only try my patience, Catherine. You are lucky that I’m willing to bother with you. And no, the child will not be raised in our household. Some parson in the Midlands will take it off my hands for a modest annual sum, I’m sure.”
It?Before Catherine’s outrage got the better of her tongue, she realized that Armbruster did not yet know the gender of his own offspring. Either his hired kidnapper had failed, or he had yet to get word of his success to Armbruster.
“I will speak to Kettering,” Catherine said. “The settlement negotiations will conclude soon.”
Armbruster rose and prowled toward her. “See that they do. I am not an unreasonable man, Catherine. Had you handled matters differently years ago, I might have taken pity on you then. As matters stand, you will have your pin money, and the child will be adequately cared for. That is much more than many men would do. And you will hack out with me every morning until Kettering has ceded the field, weather permitting, because we are a courting couple. Agreed?”
The park was safe early in the day, provided enough Dornings lurked in the undergrowth. “All those years ago,” Catherine said tiredly, “I did not know where you had gone. I had to leave Rome for obvious reasons, and I know for a fact that you never wrote to me. I realize you left a horde of unhappy creditors behind, but I would hardly have announced your whereabouts to them.”
Armbruster stalked closer, though if he expected Catherine to cower, he was in for a disappointment.
“You will learn proper respect,” he said, “or—”
The garden gate opened, and Nevin sidled through. “Beg pardon. Did not know the garden was occupied. I brung the morning post, miss. Shall I take it to kitchen?”
Catherine took the packet from him. “His lordship was just leaving, Nevin. Please fetch his horse.”
Nevin looked from Armbruster to Catherine. “You’re sure there’s nothing else, miss?” Armbruster’s own spy regarded him with veiled contempt.
“That will be all, Nevin,” Catherine said. “My lord, I wish you good day. I will meet you on the bridle paths, as the weather permits. Excuse me for the nonce. I have correspondence to see to.”
“Until tomorrow at first light, then.” He turned his back on Catherine without bowing and marched off to the gate.
“He ought not to speak to you like that,” Nevin said. “We heard him, out in the stables.”
“You spied for him,” Catherine said. “Why take my part now?”
Nevin had the grace to look abashed. “Said he were sweet on you. Said he hadn’t much coin and needed any advantage over the other fellows if he was to win your notice. Said you were his first love. I know what it is to pine, to be reduced to wheedlin’. I ought not to have taken his money, though, and I’m sorry for that. You can sack me now.”
“I could, but I won’t, unless your slacking continues unabated. Armbruster’s charm has fooled others who should have known better, and you can tell your mama I said so. Another lapse of loyalty, though, from either of you, and you will be turned off without a character.”
