Silk And Steel Part 24

Nat paused in the act of stacking the papers on his desk. "A friend?"

Lucien smiled. "That's right. The Duke of Carlyle. With Jason along, there is no doubt that I'll be safe."

Nat relaxed at that. "You're right. Carlyle is a good man to have at your back." He rounded the desk to where Lucien stood. "But still it could be dangerous. Be careful, my lord."

"Believe me, I shall." Lucien crossed the room and opened the door. "By the way-congratulations. I hope you know how glad I am that you and my aunt are getting together."

Nat smiled softly. "I've been in love with Winifred Montaine since I was a boy."

Lucien nodded, but the phrase, so unselfconsciously spoken, bothered him. Why was it men like Nat and Jason seemed to accept falling in love without the slightest qualm? It was ridiculous for grown men to believe in such fantasy... and yet. When he thought of Jason and Velvet, he had to admit there was something about their relations.h.i.+p that was different.

And Nat and Winnie shared something special, as well.

Lucien found himself thinking of Kathryn. Of how good it felt to make love to her, how protective he felt of her, how much he enjoyed just being with her.

Was it love?

Surely not. He wasn't the sort to fall in love.

But the notion stayed with him all the way back to Castle Running.

The day was bl.u.s.tery and cool, a crisp wind whipping the tiny budded leaves on the branches of the tree. Outside the front doors, the Litchfield carriage stood waiting, its four black horses snorting a frosty mist into the air as they stamped their feet and shook their heads, jangling their silver-studded harness.

Beneath the chandelier in the entry, Kathryn swung her fox-trimmed cloak around her shoulders, a matching fur m.u.f.f in one hand, a small traveling valise sitting on the floor at her feet. Down the hall, Lucien and Jason approached from Lucien's study, and Kathryn steeled herself for the battle to come.

Her husband's dark eyes widened the moment he saw her. "Kathryn! What the devil are you doing up at this hour?" It was definitely early. She had known they would need an early start to make the two-day journey to Milford Park.

She forced herself to smile. "I am waiting for you, my lord."

Lucien stopped in front of her. Spotting her satchel on the floor, his thick black brows drew together. "You're dressed to go out. I hope you don't think you're going with me."

She smiled sweetly. "That, my lord, is exactly what I think."

A few feet away, Jason hid a grin.

"That is impossible," Lucien said darkly. "You know the reason we're traveling to Milford. Your uncle will be furious when he finds out his plans have been thwarted. I don't want you anywhere near him."

"I wish to see my cousin Muriel. I need to know that she is safe."

"No," Lucien said flatly, turning so that Reeves could drape his greatcoat over his shoulders. "Not this time."

"There may not be a next time," Kathryn argued, steadfastly holding her ground. "My uncle is leaving Milford. I need to be certain that Muriel is all right. Knowing him as I do, I should have done so long before this."

"There's no need for you to worry. I'll check on your cousin in your stead." His heavy coat swirled as he turned to leave. "I'll see you four days hence," he called over one broad shoulder, the duke falling in behind him.

Kathryn's next words stopped them at the top of the front porch steps. "I know the way to Milford, my lord! If you don't take me with you, I shall get there on my own. I am going to see my cousin-one way or another-and you are not going to stop me."

Fury settled over his features. He pinned her with a glare. "Threaten me and I shall lock you in your room. Unless you wish to remain there for the next four days, you will do as I tell you."

Ignoring the angry tic in his cheek, Kathryn smiled up at him sweetly. "How can you be certain what I will do if I am not with you? Remember, 'He who trusteth not is not deceived.' " His mouth quirked at the Thomas Fuller quote, but his scowl did not lessen. Kathryn walked over and caught his arm. "I won't go near Dunstan, I promise. I shall simply check on my cousin. As long as you are with me, I will be safe."

What she had said was the truth-she should have checked on the girl before. But seeing that Muriel was well was only part of the reason she was determined to go along. She didn't trust her uncle, and even in company with the powerful duke, she was afraid for Lucien. "Please, my lord. I beg you to take me with you."

Lucien grumbled something beneath his breath. "In this Mr. Fuller is correct. If I could be certain that you would stay here, I wouldn't consider for a moment taking you along. Unfortunately, knowing how stubborn and willful you are, I have no choice but to take you with me."

Relief washed over her. "Thank you, my lord," she said demurely, as if she hadn't just blackmailed him into it.

The duke was still grinning.

"Cut that out," Lucien warned. "You have one at home just like her."

Jason laughed at that. "Touche."

Kathryn wasn't certain exactly what that exchange meant, but she was going to Milford and that was all that mattered.

Lucien a.s.sisted her up into the carriage, helping to arrange her heavy quilted petticoats, then he settled himself on the seat beside her. Draping a heavy lap robe over her knees, he leaned back against the tufted leather squabs. As soon as the duke was settled on the opposite side of the carriage, he signaled for the coachman to make way.

After spending the night at a small inn named the Dove, they reached Milford Park the following day. Though the marquess had hoped to find the earl making preparations to leave, there seemed to be no such activity. In fact, Milford Park looked as lovely and serene as it had when she had left it over a year ago.

Kathryn had always loved the beautiful old brick mansion with its lush, parklike setting. As a girl, she had spent hours roaming the woods and picnicking with her family by the stream.

But her parents' deaths and Dunstan's arrival had destroyed the peaceful tranquility. During the years of his guardians.h.i.+p, she had only wanted to escape the place and all the ugly memories that went with it.

Now she had returned as the Marchioness of Litchfield and once again the house seemed the picture of her storybook dreams.

The carriage rolled to a stop out in front and a footman opened the door. Lucien helped her alight and they made their way up the stairs. They were ushered into the Blue Drawing Room, its high molded ceilings painted to look like a cloud-covered sky. Dunstan greeted them stiffly, his cheeks red with angry color. His nose was also red and slightly veined, but Kathryn recalled it had always been that way.

"So... you have come to see if I am yet removed from your property."

"Among other things," Lucien told him. "You know the Duke of Carlyle, I presume."

Dunstan made a stiff bow. "Your Grace."

"My wife has traveled here to see her cousin. I a.s.sume that she is in."

"I'll have the butler announce your arrival, Kathryn. You may await her in the Rose Room."

"Very well." She was hoping she wouldn't be forced to leave the men until Lucien had spoken to her uncle, detailing the evidence being held against him, but at least she was there should anything untoward occur. She made her way out of the drawing room down the hall to wait for Muriel, and to her surprise, the girl appeared only a few minutes later.

Kathryn smiled. "Cousin Muriel. I'm glad to see you are looking so well." In the year since Kathryn had been away, the girl had begun to grow into her gangly frame. She was taller even than Kathryn, bigger boned, with long red hair that curled a bit too tightly. But her eyes were a pretty dark brown, she no longer slumped, and her figure was filling out nicely. Kathryn could see definite possibilities. She hoped Muriel could see them, as well.

"Father said you wished to see me. What is it you want?" The greeting was even less cordial than Kathryn expected. Muriel's looks might have changed but her disposition apparently had not.

"I was worried about you. You will be moving from Milford soon. I wanted to be certain that you had whatever you might need to make things easier for you."

"Father said we wouldn't have to move," she said, staring at Kathryn down her nose.

"Your father is wrong. My husband and I are the owners of Milford now. You will have to return to Dunstan Manor, or live somewhere else."

Her mouth drew down in an unpleasant line. "I hate that place. It is drafty and old. It is hardly fit for a pauper to live in, let alone the family of an earl."

"That is your father's problem. He inherited plenty of money when the old earl died. He managed to spend it on gaming and high living. Now you will both pay the price."

"This is all your fault."

"Is it? And whose fault was it that I was sent to the madhouse, Muriel? Both you and your father had a hand in that. No one cared a whit about what happened to me. In truth, I shouldn't care in the least what happens to you."

Muriel's freckled hands fisted. "I don't have to listen to this. My father will take care of you-just like he did before." She whirled away, wisps of her frizzy red hair flying out from the sides of her face.

Kathryn's voice stopped her at the door. "Listen to me, Muriel. I came here because I was worried about you. I realize you don't like me. Still, you are my cousin-one of the few relations I have left-and I don't want to see you hurt. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me. Just send word."

Staring straight ahead, Muriel pulled open the door as if Kathryn hadn't spoken, stepped out into the hall, and closed the door.

Kathryn released the breath she had been holding. The scene with Muriel had been more disturbing than she had imagined. The girl harbored a terrible anger Kathryn had never quite understood. She seemed jealous simply for the fact that Kathryn had come from a loving family while Muriel had been raised by her father, who showed her not the least amount of love.

With a sigh of regret that things could not be different between them, Kathryn walked over to the window. She wished she could join the men, discover exactly what was going on in the Blue Room, but Lucien would be furious if she interrupted, and she had pushed him as far as she dared. Clenching her hands together, she began to pace the floor.

"This is an outrage! You came here to accuse me of trying to have you murdered? That is utter and total nonsense. How dare you insinuate-"

"I'm doing far more than that, Dunstan." Lucien eyed the man across from him with a loathing that went beyond hatred. "I am warning you. I'm telling you that should you carry these efforts of yours any further, you and your estate manager-a Mr. Evan Sloan-will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. And should either of you, by some quirk of fate, chance to succeed in bringing about my demise, the authorities will come straight to you. With the proof I have placed in safekeeping, should anything happen to me, there is no doubt you will hang for murder."

Dunstan sputtered and his face turned beet-red. "You are insane." He stood a good six inches shorter than Lucien, who took satisfaction in forcing the man to look up at him.

"You know very well I am perfectly sane-just as you knew that about your niece. Only Kathryn had no one to protect her as she does now. She fell prey to your ruthless schemes-I have no intention of doing the same."

Standing at Lucien's side, Jason cast Dunstan a hard look of warning. "You had better pray Lord Litchfield lives a long and prosperous life." The edge of Jason's mouth curled with distaste. "As he has said, should anything happen to him, you, my friend, are headed straight for the gallows."

Dunstan fell silent but his eyes darted back and forth between the two men.

"Heed my words," Lucien said. "You had better call off your hounds and quickly. Any other attempts made against me and I shall take the evidence I have and go straight to the magistrates. Even if you don't go to prison, in the eyes of society, you'll be a ruined man."

Dunstan took up a belligerent stance, his jaw set and his feet slightly splayed, but he said nothing more and Lucien made ready to leave.

"I expect you out of this house by the end of next week," he warned. "If you are not, the constable will be here to remove you." A thin smile edged his lips. "I imagine that might cause you a goodly bit of embarra.s.sment." Turning the silver doork.n.o.b, he strode out into the hall, leaving Dunstan staring after him.

Jason followed in his wake, closing the door behind him. "I believe you have seen the last of Lord Dunstan."

Lucien worked a muscle in his jaw. "I meant what I said and he knows it. I believe he will leave us in peace." His boots rang down the corridor as he headed for the entry, Jason's long stride matching his.

He paused in front of the carved front door and spoke to the butler, a short, rotund man with very little hair. "You may inform my wife that we are ready to depart."

"I'm afraid I'm not certain where she is. She was speaking to Lady Muriel in the Rose Room, but I believe I saw her leave."

"Find her and do so quickly."

He made a formal bow. "Yes, my lord."

But he didn't return quickly, in fact not for quite some time. Lucien began to frown as the minutes ticked past and Kathryn still had not appeared. Finally, he heard feminine footsteps and looked up to see her approach, a wide smile brightening her pretty face.

"I'm sorry, my lord. I was enjoying a stroll around the house. I had forgotten what a lovely place it is." Looking down at her, he felt his own mouth curving up. "Come, love," he said, taking her hand and resting it on his arm. "We'll return for a visit once the place is yours again."

Kathryn took a last glance at the only home she had ever really known, nodded, and let him guide her out the door, down to the waiting carriage.

"How did you fare with your cousin?" he asked once they were inside and headed down the road toward home.

Kathryn's dark brows pulled slightly together. "Not as well as I had hoped." She sighed. "Muriel resents me for some reason. Perhaps because I once had a family who loved me. My cousin never has."

"She is cursed with a father who cares for nothing but his own ruthless self-interests," Jason said. "I can't help feeling sorry for the girl."

"For the most part her father simply ignores her," Kathryn said. "Muriel craves his attention, but when he does seek her out, it is usually to berate her. He is cruel and domineering. The odd thing is, I think, deep down inside, she knows the sort of man he really is."

"We'll keep an eye on the girl," Lucien promised. "She is family now, whether she likes it or not. Perhaps in time, we can find some way to help her."

Kathryn flashed him a grateful smile. "Thank you, my lord."

Lucien leaned back against the seat of the carriage, settling himself in for the long ride home. Kathryn gazed out the window at the pa.s.sing landscape, and as the wheels churned over the rutted road, he found his glance straying toward her again and again.

In truth, he was glad he had brought her with him. He enjoyed her company, enjoyed just having her around. And last night at the inn, instead of sleeping in a cold room by himself, Kathryn had been there to share her warmth and her body, and he liked the feeling of waking up beside her.

Looking at her now, the sunlight s.h.i.+ning on her pretty features and the pale mounds of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his body began to harden. He wanted her as he always did, but he was content just to sit there beside her.

The thought occurred, if that was love, perhaps it wasn't so terrifying as he had believed. Perhaps he might even get used to the notion.

Lucien found himself looking at Kathryn and smiling.

From the corner of his eye, he saw that Jason was grinning.

TWENTY-ONE.

After weeks of waiting, her chance had finally arrived. Kathryn folded another night rail and packed it into her small leather trunk. Anxious to be on her way, she paused at the window to check on the weather. It was early in the day, yet already a layer of clouds had begun drifting in. Wind flattened the new green gra.s.s springing up through the soil, and the air felt heavy and charged, as if the storm in the offing were impatient to get there.

Still, her husband had left for London and she was for Guildford at last. She glanced down into the courtyard, saw Michael running toward the stable, and smiled. The threat of rain hadn't affected the little boy, who was hurrying for his riding lesson with Bennie, Michael more eager than ever since his latest gift from Lucien. Her husband spoiled the child unmercifully, but Kathryn couldn't fault him. Michael was always so delighted, so grateful, so filled with utter joy.

Yesterday had been no different.

"Kathryn! Kathryn!" he'd cried, forgetting in his excitement that he was supposed to call her "my lady."

"Come quick! Come see the new saddle me lord has bought. It come all the way from London just for me! Please, Kath-me lady!" He tugged on her hand, pulling her relentlessly out of the drawing room and off toward the stable. " 'Urry-hurry, ye must come see!"

She laughed as he led her along the path, then, spotting her husband, smiled softly at the look of pleasure on his face. He flushed when he saw her, embarra.s.sed to be caught indulging the child yet again, the skin beneath his high cheekbones turning a dusky rose.

"It's difficult for a boy of his size to master a proper seat," he gruffly explained. "It's important he have the right equipment."