Chapter 20
The entire day passed with no sign of Catherine. It was as if she had disappeared off the face of the earth, or at least from Oakhaven. Rian spent most of his time roaming aimlessly about the house and grounds, hoping she might have decided to leave whatever sanctuary she had found, and their paths would cross. If so he would seize the opportunity to speak with her. Hold her to him if that’s what it took to make her listen.
His first stop was the stables. What better way for Catherine to clear her head than to go for a ride? Once she had satisfied him she was well enough to mount a horse, Catherine had proved she was not only ’orsey,’ but quite fearless in the saddle. Rian had been amazed by her skill, and her talent for dealing with even the most high-strung animal earned his admiration. That was a gift that could not be taught.
But with all the horses accounted for, Rian’s presence only made the stable hands nervous and their charges restless. Never before had almost every horse needed to be exercised at the same time. Churlishly he left the stables, making his way to the edge of the woods where Catherine and he had seen the deer. Nothing stirred amongst the trees, so he turned back and made his way to the chapel. He paused at the door, his head resting against the seasoned wood and his fingers on the iron ring handle. He prayed she would be inside, but the small building was empty. Dejectedly Rian sank into a pew. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, to try to explain what had happened with Isabel, but his tongue tripped over his answers to her imagined accusations, and the conversation remained in his head.
It was close to midnight when Liam found him sitting at the desk in the study, an almost empty bottle of brandy before him. This was not Mrs. Hatch’s homemade brew, but a more potent version imported from across the channel. It seemed a little bizarre knowing Isabel had used a similar brew to possibly drug him.
Startled by his haggard appearance, Liam asked, “Rian, man, what are you doing? Have you eaten anything?”
“Let me be,” Rian growled.
Ignoring him, Liam pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the desk. “Is it helping?” he asked, pointing to the nearly empty bottle.
“It blunts the edges,” Rian told him.
“Good, then pour me a glass.”
Rian raised a brow and stared at his brother for a moment before getting another glass and pouring him a generous measure. He pushed the drink across the desktop toward him, asking, “What’s biting you?”
“Probably the same thing that’s sunk its teeth in your throat,” Liam replied, taking a healthy swallow.
“Catherine?”
Liam nodded. “Yes, though in a far less direct manner.” He took another mouthful, and swirled his glass, watching the candlelight reflect off the liquid. “My wife has spent most of the day consoling her.”
“And you are feeling slighted?” Rian asked.
“Mmmm, a little I’ll admit.” Liam drained his drink and pushed the glass back to Rian, gesturing for a refill. “I feel like I am being punished for—”
“—my mistake,” Rian interjected, frowning. “I would never have thought Felicity was that judgmental.” He sounded disappointed.
“I was going to say for being male, and a Connor.”
“Ah well, in that case I think we will need another bottle.” Rian poured more brandy. “This won’t be enough.”
“For what?”
“To get drunk.”
“I have no intention of getting drunk,” Liam told him gravely. “I did that last night.”
Rian pointed a finger at the glass in his brother’s hand. “Then what are you doing?”
“Preventing you from getting drunk.”
“Do you think it will work?”
Liam shrugged. “You tell me.”
Rian’s laugh was bitter and hollow sounding. “I know it won’t.”
“Ah, well.”
Liam gulped down the brandy. The smooth taste coated his tongue and trailed a fiery path down his throat, making him splutter a little. Rian smiled to himself. His brother really wasn’t that much of a drinker. Not enough practice, he supposed.
“What are you really doing, Liam?” he asked.
“I want to help you, if you’re not too stubborn to accept my offer.”
“I don’t think there’s anything you can say that would help me.”
“I could tell you where Catherine has been all day.”
Interest made the tawny flecks in Rian’s eyes burn a little brighter. “Where?” he demanded, leaning forward.
“In Mrs. Hatch’s rooms.” Across the desk, Liam smiled slyly. “Didn’t think to look there, did you?”
Rian shook his head. Because he had seen the housekeeper earlier, and she had not said anything, he had assumed, wrongly it now seemed, that Catherine was not with her. He should have asked. Mrs. Hatch would have told him the truth, but that would have also meant running the risk of seeing how much he had disappointed her. Burdening himself with Liam’s censure was hard enough; Rian could not carry the weight of her condemnation also. “No, I did not,” he admitted. “Was it your first thought?”
“Good God, no!”
Both of them smiled wryly at the idea of any man crossing the threshold of the housekeeper’s room with or without an invitation.
“Who told you?” Rian asked.
“I managed to catch a few moments alone with Felicity.”
“Catherine couldn’t be in better hands.”
“Unless she was in yours,” Liam contradicted softly. “She needs your help.”
Leaning his head against the back of the chair, Rian closed his eyes. He was still for so long Liam thought he might have drifted off to sleep. Finally he spoke. “What kind of help?”
“Looking into Catherine’s past. Finding out what you can about her, where she’s from, who her people are. It will be easier now that we have a name.”
Rian opened his eyes. Obviously his younger brother had been occupied with this thought for most of the day. “Where do you propose I begin?”
Resting both arms on the desk’s smooth surface, Liam asked, “Have you ever listened to Catherine talk when she gets excited?” The question was enough to make Rian raise a brow. When had his little brother witnessed Catherine in a state of excitement, and what had he done to put her there? Ignoring the unasked question on his brother’s face, Liam continued. “Engage her in a topic of conversation that truly holds her interest, and you will hear the pattern of her speech change.”
“I will?”
“Look, it’s obvious Catherine had a governess or another influence that taught her how to behave as befits a proper young lady, but when she gets enthusiastic about something she sometimes slips up.”
“Slips up how?”
“Her pronunciation is less precise,” Liam said, warming to his subject. “And she uses phrases that have an almost lyrical quality to them.”
“Really?” Rian asked, intrigued by his brother’s keen observation, along with his even keener ear.
“Yes, really,” Liam muttered irritably. “Honestly, Rian, all you have to do is listen to her.”
“Well, there’s listening and listening.”
He was suddenly taken back to the library. Catherine had been drunk, and he had assumed the pleasing lilt he could hear in her voice was a result of the alcohol, but if he had been paying attention he would have realized that she was speaking to him with her true voice. The same voice that had murmured his name as she slept. He pushed the image out of his mind and forced himself to concentrate on what Liam was saying.
“…so I think that might be a good place to start.”
“What might be?”
The younger Connor swore under his breath. “God’s truth, man! Have you not been listening?”
“Of course, wasn’t that the point you were making? Listening? Now, where might be a good place to start?” Rian asked again.
Slightly mollified, the younger Connor huffed. “I was thinking that Catherine might come from up north, and given her occasional lapse, perhaps one of the border counties.”
“You don’t think it possible she could have picked up the accent from someone she met?”
“Possible,” Liam agreed reluctantly, “but I don’t think so.”
Rian put an elbow on the desk and cupped his chin in his hand as he gave his brother a thoughtful look. “Did you work this all out by yourself?”
Liam blushed. “Um, actually no. My wife deserves the credit. I’m simply the messenger.”
“Just as well,” Rian said, still finding the wherewithal to tease his sibling, “or else you might find yourself needing to explain how it is you know Catherine’s speech changes when she gets excited.”
Liam’s blush expanded to reach the roots of his hair.
“Now, how would I begin?” Rian said, serious once more.
Liam pulled a piece of paper from an inside pocket and pushed it across the desk toward him. “Here’s the name and address of a man I know who might be able to help.”
Rian looked at the information. “He’s in the city.”
Liam nodded. “Obviously it will be much easier to conduct the search for information from there.”
“Then I’d best leave first thing.”
Liam was relieved. Armed with a purpose, his brother was once again the man he knew, shaking off the miserable wretch who had been masquerading in his place since early that morning. “Do you want to speak with Catherine before you leave?”
“More than I want to draw my next breath,” Rian said, “but I doubt she feels the same.”
“I could ask Felicity to intercede on your behalf….” Liam trailed off.
“Thank you, but no.” Rian’s voice was firm. “When Catherine talks with me again, it will not be because she feels obligated to do so.”
Liam tipped his head, thankful that his brother had said when and not if. It was a step in the right direction. “What about Isabel? If you are returning to the city, do you intend to call on her?” It was a question that had to be asked.
“Right now, I’m not sure.”
“Be careful, brother. No matter what she says, Isabel is at best…unpredictable.”
Rian’s expression told Liam that he would heed the warning in his words. He would not do anything impulsive or foolish. “It would be a one-sided conversation, and not a long one at that,” he said grimly.
“Oh, why is that?” Liam suddenly felt his mouth go dry.
“I am confident Isabel and Catherine have never met, other than that one time at the townhouse.”
“And yet she knew her full name, which can only mean—”
“—that someone must have told her,” Rian finished for him. “Someone else is looking for Catherine, and I think it’s time I found out just who that person is.”
Rian’s expression required no explanation, and it sent an icy chill racing down his brother’s back. That Isabel had ulterior motives went without question, but just how far she would go to get her own way had yet to be determined.
* * * *
Catherine had not returned to her own room. Instead she spent the night in the housekeeper’s cozy suite, dozing fitfully on Mrs. Hatch’s bed. It would have been little comfort to her to know that Rian had also found sleep elusive. Hearing a familiar sound, she sat up, waiting to see if it was repeated. She was not disappointed, and throwing off the blanket, Catherine hurried to the window. It was a testament to the favor the housekeeper found in the eyes of the family that she had been allowed to select her own suite of rooms. Preferring the front of the house, Mrs. Hatch was afforded a clear view of the long driveway leading to and from Oakhaven, as well as any activity at the front of the house. As she looked out, Catherine’s heart sank and a ragged ache squeezed her tightly as despair washed through her.
It was the sound of horses snorting and moving impatiently in their traces that had brought her to the window, as if they wanted her to know someone was getting ready to depart. The carriage in the driveway below was surrounded by a flurry of activity, and Catherine did not need to be told who was leaving so early. Still, her heart jumped into her throat as she watched Rian walk out of the house. All he needed to do was turn and tilt his head and he would see her.
“Look up here,” she whispered, her hand pressed against the frigid pane of glass.
“Please, look up and see me.”
But Rian did not raise his head, disappearing instead into the carriage. Catherine watched as it pulled away from the house and continued down the driveway. She did not turn away until the sound of movement behind her said she was not alone. Mrs. Hatch stood in the open doorway.
“He has gone?” Catherine asked, as if a denial from the housekeeper would make the carriage’s progress an event in her imagination.
“Aye lass, that he has.”
“Where to?”
“I believe Master Rian said he had business to attend to in the city. He’ll be back in a few days I’m sure.”
“Oh, I see.” Her voice proclaimed she didn’t see at all. Turning back to the window, Catherine rested her forehead against the cool glass.
The motherly figure stood behind her, and put an arm about her shoulders, giving her much needed comfort. “It’ll be alright Miss Catherine,” Mrs. Hatch soothed. “Master Rian will return, and then you can sort through this difficulty between you.”
Catherine stiffened inside the housekeeper’s embrace. “What makes you think any difficulty exists between us?”
Mrs. Hatch turned Catherine gently until she was facing her. “There must be, lass, else why would you be crying so hard at his leaving?”