“Where are you going?” Benedict asked, though he had an idea.
“I have to tell her.” Baldwyn was perspiring as he had been running around the house at full speed.
“Then, tell her.” Benedict encouraged and laughed. “Apparently Agatha does have the final say, eh?”
Baldwyn rolled his eyes. “Do not get me started. That woman’s intuition frightens me.”
Both men fell silent. Then turned to look at the stairs.
“Do you think?” Baldwyn didn’t finish his question.
“She said it will pass.” Benedict cleared his throat. “After all, she’s a tough old thing. It isn’t as if she is doing to die.”
Baldwyn nodded his head. “You’re right. Paranoia is a side effect of too much drinking I hear.”
At that, Benedict laughed and walked out of the house, in search of one woman that could bring him to his knees.
Chapter Twenty-three
How Much Do I Love Thee?
Katherine hated to admit that every time there was a noise, she ran to the windows and plastered her face against the glass hoping in vain that it would be Benedict’s curricle outside, meaning he had come to call again.
After rejecting him again this morning when all the lovely books arrived, she hadn’t the heart to do it again.
Granted, she was hurt, upset, and at the most ridiculous moments felt that she would burst into tears.
Could she trust him with her heart? He had said as much. He had promised they would marry and be happy.
But he hadn’t promised fidelity. Nor had he fully explained his situations with the many mistresses.
Then again, it was natural that he would have done some horrendous things a gentle bred lady wouldn’t hear about. After all, he didn’t just obtain his nickname from all his many scandals and running around his house in the nude.
The question that burned at the back of her mind was, what if? What if he was to change? What if he wanted to change? What if he was trying?
Yet, it seemed so foolish. Surely every girl thought such things when wanting to reform a rake of the first order. Every girl wanted to be the girl that was so special she would change the devil into an angel. And she wasn’t so sure she was pretty enough or exciting enough to hold his attention.
The knocker on the door announced another visitor. With great self-control she managed to sit and pretend to read one of the many novels Benedict had given her, when the door to the sitting room opened, and Benedict was announced.
She slowly put the book down. Benedict’s face lit up, a smile broke out across his features, and in two strides she was in his arms, being pressed against the wall with such force she was sure her form would be permanently glued to the wallpaper. His kiss was hungry yet affectionate, as he parted her lips with his tongue and caressed her face with his hands.
Her butler cleared his throat, causing Benedict to stop, and place her once again to rights. With a few choice words, he walked to the door, shooed her butler out and turned the lock.
“I have to say something.”
Katherine fumbled with her hair, averting her eyes. If she didn’t look directly at him, perhaps she could be stronger and not cry.
“I’m not sorry.”
Well, that was a lousy start.
She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued.
“To be sorry seems too easy. You mess up and say you’re sorry, but the value of that person’s apology is measured against their past indiscretions. So then you ask yourself, is that person sorry for their actions or merely sorry they had to deal with the consequences of getting caught?” Benedict laughed. “I think my entire life I’ve been blind. I’ve always felt fulfilled, never truly guilty over my actions. I boasted in my debauchery and rejoiced in the power it gave me. Until recently, I would have been merely sorry I was caught.”
“And now?” Katherine asked timidly.
“Now?” He laughed bitterly. “Now I’m so blasted ashamed of myself, I want to ask the first man I see to shoot me.”
“Or woman?” she volunteered.
“Yes.” He laughed. “Or woman. The thing of it is I have lived selfishly from amusement to amusement, never truly realizing how hollow my existence was. Until I met you, that is, I was perfectly happy.”
Great, so now she was the reason for his discontent?
“Don’t take offense. I compare my prior existence to a man living in a thundercloud, until one day the clouds disappear and the most beautiful sun begins to shine light on everything. What was once acceptable in the dark, even glorified, is no longer beautiful, but ugly and distasteful. The things that seemed to be important were merely shadows, faded into my old life. I would do anything to stay in your sunlight. I would give my very soul to be your center of gravity.” Benedict approached her, his trembling hand reaching out to touch her face. She closed her eyes. “So I wish to tell you, I know the true meaning of being sorry. I will not be that man, because you see, I am no longer him. I am someone new because the sun now shines. Tell me, Katherine. Tell me the sun will stay. Tell me the sun will bring light.”
“I lov—”
“—Open this door immediately!” a man’s voice shouted.
Benedict cursed and walked slowly to the door and unlocked it.
Paisley burst in.
“It’s Agatha, we have to go, now!” Paisley grabbed Benedict and ushered him out before Katherine could finish what she was saying. Without as much of a word to anyone, she grabbed her pelisse and reticule and followed them out of the house.
She had no idea by the time they arrived they would be too late.
Nor had she quite understood the depth of anguish a man would face when his last remaining relative save his cousin, was taken from the world.
Chapter Twenty-four
One Step Forward, Two Steps Back
The funeral was depressing, as most funerals were. And Katherine was by Benedict’s side the entire time holding his hand, trying to give him strength.
The worst part, he thought as he squeezed her hand, was that Agatha and he had only just begun communicating.
He looked up at the dreary London sky. Was that the life he wanted for himself? To push away everyone and everything? His last remaining family member, save his cousin, was dead.
Alone. He was alone in the world, and he had nothing to show for it really. He had no true friends to turn to. Except Katherine.
He had to tell her. She had to know before they married how he felt, what he would give away for her, what he would do for her if just given the chance. If she could not accept his love and forgive him, he may just follow Agatha into the grave, not that she would much appreciate her devilish nephew ruining her chances of happiness in the afterlife.
He laughed at the thought.
“Are you well?” she asked as they paused in front of his carriage.
“I will be, very soon.” He kissed her hands. She didn’t pull away but the vulnerability was visible in her gaze. “Tonight.” He kissed her forehead. “At the Kringle Ball, let us dance until midnight, and when all is over with, let us marry.”
“At midnight?” Katherine laughed. “For what reason?”
“Well, I do have papers making it completely legal, as well as the old vicar from our family estate staying at one of my townhomes for the holidays.”
“And my parents?” Katherine asked biting her lip.
“I hope they’ll attend.”
She nodded slowly, and then more enthusiastically. Her father joined her side. Benedict said his goodbyes and with a final glance toward his aunt’s house, jumped into his carriage.
****
Katherine readied for the ball. A pink silk ball gown of beautiful satin hung snug around her middle. The skirts fell around her legs making it impossible to see the line of the dress. It was scandalous to say the least, only because she knew Benedict would spend most of his night trying to find the outline of her legs within the folds of the fabric.
The man did have an odd obsession with her knees and ankles.
Her carriage arrived at his townhome early, but he had asked permission from her parents to escort her, especially considering they were to be married at midnight.
She was so excited, she had to clench her hands to keep from waving them wildly in the air. His speech had been so beautiful, so wonderful.
Yet part of her, a tiny part, still had doubt, for how could a man who had lived his entire life one way, hope to change in just a few weeks? And all because of her? She was nothing special, she knew that. Even Benedict had pointed it out early on in their relationship, but perhaps she should just allow herself to fall. For the only person she could imagine that she wanted to catch her was the Duke of Banbury.
She knocked. A very stunned butler opened the door and then closed it in her face. Truly, he needed to hire a new staff immediately.
She knocked again. He opened it a crack. “I’m here to see my fiancé. He’s to be escorting me to the Kringle Ball.”
“Er...” The butler looked behind him, and suddenly Katherine heard shouting. She pushed past the butler with all the strength she could muster and ran directly into her worst nightmare.
Maria, the old housekeeper wearing a gown fit for a courtesan with her chest nearly exposed, she was crying and shouting still. And then she turned to Katherine, venom in her eyes.
Benedict also turned. “This isn’t what you think, she—”
“—He loves to play games, my lady. This is just one of the many ones we’ve dreamt up together. It makes our time together so much better when there is the fear of getting caught. We fight,” she laughed, “and then we make love, right after his innocent little girl walks through the door. I couldn’t write a better story myself.” She tripped on the hem of her gown and laughed again.
“Katherine…” Benedict pinched his nose. “She’s drunk and angry, and somehow snuck through the servants’ entrance. This is no game. She is ill, sick actually, and if she steps foot in my house one more time…” Benedict reached for Maria and grabbed her arm, clenching it within his hand tightly. “I will have her arrested. Now leave before I call Bow Street.”
She jerked her arm away, tears streaming down her face. “Why would you throw away something so good?”
“We are finished!” he yelled. “You mean nothing to me. What we did, meant nothing.”
“It was everything.”
“Perhaps for you. For me it was nothing but a heartless toss with an easy woman who desired money in exchange for services.”
Maria threw her head back and laughed, her dark hair spilling in waves across her scandalous dress. She walked past Katherine and glared. “You’ll never be able to give him what I did. He’ll grow tired of you and come back. Just wait and see.”
With that she left.
Katherine tried to breathe, but the air wouldn’t fill her lungs fast enough. Short gasps came out until finally she fell to her knees on the ground, still gasping for air.
“Katherine!” Benedict ran to her side, scooped her into his arms, and pushed open the doors to the first room on the right, one of the salons. “Katherine?”
****
Benedict had never felt so angry and afraid in his entire life. Angry at Maria, angry at himself, angry at his past, and afraid that Katherine was now lost forever. How could she trust him? How could she know that the other women meant nothing? That Maria had literally attacked him in his own home? Beating his chest until Marsail had to pull her from his body?