Chapter 14
Catherine took a large sip of the blackberry brandy Felicity had poured for her, and stared morosely at the flames dancing in the fireplace. It wasn’t Felicity’s fault. She had no idea of the recent events that had occurred between Catherine and Rian, or the depth of Catherine’s feelings. If she had, she would have chosen her words with more discretion. Unable to help herself, Catherine listened as Felicity talked on. Having given her opinion of Isabel’s dismal lack of morals, and total disregard for acceptable behavior, Felicity now took a path that had the potential for becoming decidedly uncomfortable, Isabel’s many love affairs.
Even without Mrs. Hatch’s confirmation, Isabel’s disastrous London visit had left Catherine in no doubt that such an affair existed between the dark-haired beauty and Rian. The household staff spoke openly of their being lovers, and although Catherine had sat with the rest of them, listening as they discussed the matter, it was somehow more painful to hear Felicity speak of it in such a casual way.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Catherine snapped her head around, and waited for Felicity to repeat herself.
“I said that Liam and I were most pleased when Rian chose to end the affair. It was, after all, naught but a dalliance.”
“Oh, when did he do that?” It was difficult to sound detached about something that could change her life.
Felicity thought for a moment. “It must have been around the time of our wedding. Either right before or soon after.” She paused and looked at Catherine. “Is it important?”
“No, not at all,” Catherine lied, shaking her head as a rush of inexplicable warmth suddenly enveloped her. To know that Rian no longer regarded Isabel with affection when they had kissed pleased her enormously.
But now Isabel was here, full of confidence and looking absolutely ravishing in a dress that made certain she was noticed by every set of male eyes. Of course, every set of female eyes noticed her too, but that reaction wasn’t quite the same.
“Does she know that Rian is no longer in love with her?” she asked as Felicity replenished her glass of blackberry brandy.
The Mistress of Oakhaven snorted. “I don’t think my brother-in-law was ever ‘in love’ with Isabel to begin with, but to answer your question, yes. It is my understanding that he has made it quite plain.”
“So either she is choosing to ignore the fact, or she is hoping to rekindle his affection.” Catherine took more than a sip this time, and spluttered as the brandy flowed through her. It did little to dispel the misery that now replaced the earlier glow she had been feeling. “And in that dress she’s wearing, anything is possible.”
Leaning forward Felicity said, “Well ’tis of no concern now, for I do believe Rian’s affections are securely fixed in another direction.” Her smile left Catherine in no doubt as to what—and whom—she was referring to.
“Oh no, please Felicity, whatever it is you’re thinking, you’re quite wrong.” Self-preservation made Catherine utter the protest, knowing she would not be able to bear it if Isabel’s presence gave Rian second thoughts about his feelings toward her. She could already feel doubt trying to slither its way inside her heart.
He came to your room. He stayed with you, again.
“I don’t think so. In fact, I am positive I am not mistaken,” Felicity said firmly as she took Catherine’s hands in hers. “I do not claim to be knowledgeable in the ways of men—certainly not as knowledgeable as Lady Howard—but I am experienced enough to recognize when a fond regard has turned to something more.”
“No, Felicity, you are mistaken I assure you. Any affection Rian may have for me is merely kindness, and nothing else.”
“Is that what you think he feels for you, kindness?”
Pulling her hands free of Felicity’s hold, Catherine stared down at the carpet. “Of course, what else could it be?” she mumbled.
“Catherine, darling, remember to whom you are speaking.” Felicity put her hands on Catherine’s shoulders giving her a not-so-gentle shake. “Why are you so determined to believe Rian bears no deep affection for you?” She started as a thought occurred to her. “Oh, my dear, is it because you don’t want him to? You don’t like him?”
Catherine felt the sudden burn on her cheeks. Rian had kissed her, had told her he would do so again, and had secretly slipped into her room and held her through the night. But Felicity knew none of this, and, despite the fondness between them, Catherine was not ready to share such secrets with her. Felicity was married to Rian’s brother, and her loyalties would be with him. What if, after this night, Rian had a change of heart? What if, even now, he was regretting everything he had said to her in the snow? What if he never meant any of it to begin with? He was a man who could change his mind as easily as he changed his shirt—or have it changed for him. Now all her insecurities came tumbling out, neatly wrapped in a brightly colored package of black and white silk.
“Catherine.” Felicity’s tone was gentle. “Do you think we have not noticed the recent change in attitude between you and Rian? Noticed and rejoiced in it. What makes you think he will reverse his position?”
“Because she is here!” Catherine wailed miserably, pointing a finger at the closed library door.
“And that should tell you—”
“They have unfinished business with each other.”
“—she’s the one who is insecure.”
Catherine started to say something, and then stopped, frowning, as she pondered Felicity’s words. The blackberry brandy was beginning to take effect, and her thinking was becoming fuzzy. “Why do you think Lady Howard is here?”
“Oh, I don’t know, perhaps she’s going to try to persuade Cook to part with her recipe for apple tart.”
“Really?” Catherine raised her brows in surprise. Cook did make very good pies, and her apple tart was exceptional.
Felicity let loose an exasperated laugh. “No, you silly goose, of course not! Isabel detests the country. The only reason she is here is to try to win Rian back. If there was the slightest chance of his returning to the city, she would simply wait for him to come to her. Deep down she knows her cause is lost. What you are seeing is the act of a desperate woman.”
“Do you think so?” Catherine asked, clutching at the faint glimmer of hope.
“Oh yes. I am most certain of it.”
Picking up her glass, Catherine took a more ladylike sip. It really was excellent brandy, and she told herself to compliment Mrs. Hatch the next time she saw her. She was about to ask another question when there came a light knock on the door, and Liam entered the room.
“Is everything all right?” he asked with only the smallest amount of concern detectable in his voice.
“Of course,” his wife reassured him. “Should I be asking the same of you regarding our uninvited guest?”
Liam sighed. “I have Lady Howard’s word she will be on her best behavior.” His wife snorted and her expression told him not to be disappointed when that did not happen. Stepping forward, he took her hands in his and kissed her lightly on the lips before asking, “Catherine, may I steal my wife away?”
“Of course you may,” she said, assuming a false brightness. “If you will forgive me, I think I will stay here for a little longer.” Concern pulled Felicity’s brows together, making Catherine add, “’Tis nothing more than tiredness. I am not used to so much excitement.”
“Are you sure?” Felicity hesitated, unconvinced.
“Quite sure. I promise I will sit here for just a little while longer, and then, with your permission, I think I will retire.”
“Of course,” Liam said, overruling whatever protest his wife was about to make.
Catherine made a show of good-naturedly shooing them both from the room, but once the door was secured she allowed utter despair to wash over her. Felicity’s words, well-meaning though they were, made little difference. The truth of the matter was undeniable. Isabel was here and she was not about to be ignored. It didn’t matter that Catherine had kissed Rian or that he had kissed her back. That was all in the past. Isabel was far more accomplished in the art of seduction, and she already knew how to kiss Rian as well as what would tempt him.
Besides, Catherine did not believe Isabel was at all desperate. It might have been different if Rian had actually stated out loud his affection for her, but the words had not been spoken, and now, as Catherine questioned everything that had happened between them, her mind became a jumble of disconnected thoughts.
Would Rian turn from her?
Had he pursued her simply because she was here?
Were his promises made in haste, and now ones he no longer wanted to keep?
Isabel looked as beautiful as ever. It would be hard for any man not to be drawn to her, and Rian was no callow youth. He was a grown man with appetites and needs.
Needs Catherine had no idea if she could satisfy.
She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt a tear splash on the back of her hand, and she swiped a palm across her cheek in anger. Damn it all to hell! She couldn’t control what Rian was feeling; she could barely control her own desires. Glancing at the half-empty glass on the table she immediately looked around for the brandy. It sat on a shelf where Felicity had placed it, practically begging to be taken down. Catherine stared at the dark colored liquid. The decanter was almost full, and its contents were very good. With just the right amount of sweetness to bring out the flavor of the alcohol, why it hardly seemed like drinking at all. Suddenly the decision to drown her sorrows in blackberry brandy seemed the best idea she’d had in a long time. It had been her father’s way of blunting the sharp edges of the world, to escape the truths he could not face, so why not follow his example?
What an excellent idea, a voice in her head whispered. She did not even realize that the recollection of her father was another step in the recovery of her memory.
* * * *
Rian was impressed. Isabel had been better than her word. Making pleasant conversation with everyone she met, she was the perfect guest. Delighting all and being delightful in return. He sighed, knowing he would never understand the complexities of the fairer sex. Standing to one side, he watched as Isabel listened in complete fascination while a mournful farmer shared his woes regarding milking cows with infected teats.
“Sounds absolutely ghastly,” she empathized as Rian came to her rescue, and led her to the floor for their promised dance. They danced more than once, the twins suddenly turning shy now Isabel was among them. Rian was so busy making sure Isabel did not cause any mischief, he lost track of Catherine. Felicity told him in passing that Catherine had mentioned being tired, and had most likely already retired.
At the stroke of midnight the new Mistress of Oakhaven was presented to the head of each family that lived on the estate. Looking as proud as any peacock, Liam took his wife around the room and formally introduced her. It was a wonderful, time-honored ritual that the newest Mrs. Connor was very pleased to continue. The general gaiety of the evening continued for another hour or so and then it came time for their guests to leave. The weather, though cold, was clear enough that traveling could be safely accomplished but even so, accommodation was offered for any not wishing to journey at so late an hour.
As part of her final duty of the evening, Felicity made certain every woman left with her allotted basket of food to get the family through the next day or two. Tucked between the loaves of bread, wheels of cheese and all manner of leftover dainties, was an extra gift. Using one of her original wedding petticoats, Felicity and her mother had made silk pouches. Inside each was a gold coin. A gift in case of hard times. This, too, was a Connor tradition.
Finally the last family left. The sound of their hearty farewells and good wishes carried on the still night air. Rian and Liam made sure that the men folk had extra wood for their fires, along with some liquid warmth to guard against the cold. When the family returned to the ballroom, the house seemed eerily quiet after being filled with so many voices. The only sound heard now was the low murmur of Mrs. Hatch issuing instructions to those clearing the room. Rian, humming out loud, grabbed the housekeeper’s hands and, taking her in his arms, swirled her around the ballroom, much to the delight of the kitchen maids and footmen who clapped their hands to keep time.
“Get away with you, Master Rian!” Mrs. Hatch exclaimed, flapping her apron at him when he finally let her go. Her face, however, was pleasantly flushed by his attention and the laughter in her voice matched the joy in her eyes.
“I still don’t know why you won’t marry me, Mrs. Hatch,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “But I pray that all your dreams come true.”
She reached up and held her palm to his cheek. “They already have, lad,” she told him affectionately. “You’re back where you belong.”
Felicity, accepting Rian’s offer of help, decided it was time to get her husband to bed. Liam hadn’t started drinking until after the presentation ceremony. Oh, he’d taken a sip or two throughout the evening, but once his wife had been presented, he found himself in the middle of a group of tenants who insisted on helping him celebrate the success of the night with some very fine liquid refreshment.
“Have you sheen Ishbel?” he slurred, as Rian put an arm about his shoulder.
“Your guest has already been shown to her room,” Mrs. Hatch informed him.
“Ah well, g’night then.” Liam called out to anyone who might be listening. “It was a wunnerful shella-shella-shellabrashun!”
After helping deposit his brother on his bed, and leaving him to the care of his wife, Rian decided to check on Catherine. Acutely aware that her disappearance had coincided with Isabel’s arrival, he wanted to reassure himself it was just that. A coincidence and nothing more sinister. He knocked gently on the bedroom door, and receiving no answer, assumed she must already be asleep. Quietly he slipped inside, only to find the room empty. The bed, which had been turned down earlier, remained undisturbed; the plain cotton shift Catherine wore to bed waiting for her. He picked it up, holding it to his face and inhaling her scent before laying it carefully back down. A sinking feeling began to roll in the pit of his stomach as he frowned, wondering where she could be at so late an hour.
Suddenly his face lit up. Felicity had told him they had been talking in the library earlier. Next to the stables it was Catherine’s favorite place, and it would not have surprised him if she had abandoned the overall merriment for a chance to lose herself in the pages of a book. He retraced his steps to the lower floor of the house, not seeing the shapely figure standing in the shadows, watching him.