Chapter 7

"Imust say, this has caught me unawares," Lord Whitley admitted, rubbing his neck ruefully. "I am taken aback by it all."

Thomas stared at the gentleman sitting across from him in the study, feeling a little contemptuous. He didn't know Lord Whitley very well. In fact, he had barely ever exchanged two words with the gentleman. But he knew much, much more about him now than he ever thought he would want or need to know.

He had set to work as soon as he got up this morning, sending one of his men to make the necessary inquiries. The report had come back within an hour—the Viscount Whitley was indeed in dire financial straits on account of the fact he had a weakness for gambling and didn't know when to stop. He was in serious trouble. There were sharks all over London baying for his blood.

The man has gambled away his fortune and then allowed his younger sister to try to get it back for him. What kind of man is he?

"I can see you are surprised by the haste," Thomas acknowledged, trying to smile. "But I am a man of action. If I see something I want, then I simply proceed."

The Viscount raised his eyebrows. "I was not aware that you and my sister were even acquainted, Your Grace," he said. "I do not seem to remember introducing you at that ball."

Thomas maintained a straight face as he thought of what to reply. The Viscount could never know the truth.

We met just last night at a gambling hell. I thought she was a man, but now, I know she is a woman.

Thomas's loins stirred, just thinking about that kiss last night. It had haunted his dreams, making him toss and turn the entire night, unable to sleep properly. He was in a state of high lust for the lady, which was at fever pitch, and had been on tenterhooks to see her again as soon as he had awoken.

It had briefly crossed his mind, in the carriage on the way here, that he might be disappointed. Perhaps he was building up the delectable Miss Audley a shade too high in his mind.

But he was wrong. As soon as she entered that drawing room, he knew he had to have her. She was wearing a simple white muslin morning gown, her chestnut-brown curls swept into a chignon at the nape of her neck, her green eyes as fierce and intelligent as he remembered.

It was the first time he had seen her dolled up as the lady she was… and the sight of her hit him like a punch to the gut.

He was itching to touch her. But first, he had to secure her. He tried to ignore the fact he had vowed to leave her alone and keep the marriage chaste. He would worry about that later.

He cleared his throat and pushed the ravishing vision of her aside, gazing at her brother, who was waiting patiently for his reply. Clearly, Catherine did not intend on telling her brother about their encounter at the gambling hell nor that he had proposed to her there anytime soon. He wasn't about to enlighten the Viscount if she didn't want her brother to know the truth.

"There were so many people at that ball. Naturally, one would struggle to recall all the introductions that were made," Thomas said, crossing his legs and smiling lazily. Suddenly, he leaned forward, gazing at the Viscount intently. "It is not important, Whitley. What is important is that I want to marry her as quickly as I can. Within a week, if it is possible."

Lord Whitley visibly blanched. "A week? Why the haste? Is there something you are not telling me, Your Grace?"

Thomas let out a bark of laughter. "Are you asking me if I have compromised your sister's reputation?"

The Viscount shrugged, looking concerned. "It would seem like that might be the case, given your haste on the matter."

"You have my word she is unsullied," Thomas promised crisply. "I know that I have a certain… reputation in these matters, but I have been a perfect gentleman with Miss Audley."

Apart from kissing her until she was breathless and making her tremble with desire.

"I simply cannot see the point in a long betrothal," he continued, frowning. "As I said, Whitley, if I see something I want, I pursue it. I do not like waiting for anything. One of my foibles."

The Viscount laughed weakly. "You certainly are a man of action, Your Grace." He sighed heavily. "I suppose if Cathy has no objection to it, then I do not either. I am still stupefied that she has even agreed to this marriage. She always swore that she would never do it."

Thomas raised an eyebrow. He was intrigued. "Did she? She has never told me." A lie on his part, but it could certainly shed some light on the alluring Miss Audley. "Why is that so?"

Lord Whitley shrugged again. "Cathy has always been stubbornly independent," he replied. "When she sets her mind on something, she can rarely be dissuaded. I believe that she has always balked at the thought of being under a gentleman's thumb, so to speak. She does not like to be controlled."

"Yes, she is very spirited," Thomas agreed with a small smile. "That was one of the first things I noticed about her."

"Cathy marches to the beat of her own drum," Lord Whitley said wryly. "She is not like other young ladies. She has always wanted to follow her own path."

Thomas tapped his fingers on the desk thoughtfully. Then, his eyes darted to the wall behind Lord Whitley where a family portrait hung. He immediately deduced that it was their family as he spotted a younger Miss Audley standing beside her brother and parents.

"You have lost both your parents, Whitley?"

The Viscount nodded, pain flashing across his face. "Yes. Our mother passed away from a lingering illness when Cathy was an adolescent, and our father died abruptly two years ago." He sighed heavily. "It has been just the two of us for a long time now."

Thomas shifted in his chair. He almost felt sorry for the gentleman, who clearly felt like he was drowning in responsibility when he had inherited the title at a similar age to him with no one to guide him. Thomas guessed that was the reason the Viscount consoled himself with gambling.

I know the feeling. When my own father passed away, I wanted to escape as well, but I was older, and responsibility had been drilled into me by the old man.

He shifted uneasily in his chair again. He didn't like thinking about his late father, the man he had once been before he became the shriveled wreck he was after his wife abandoned him.

"And how goes it with the running of the estate?" he asked in a gentler tone. "Have you got the hang of it now?"

Lord Whitley smiled grimly. "I am not ashamed to admit that I have made a few mistakes." He grimaced. "But I am getting on top of it now. I am determined to succeed and run it well… to make my late father proud." He hesitated. "And my sister, as well. She deserves the world, you know."

"She is certainly one of a kind," Thomas agreed, his mind lingering on Catherine again. "I admire her feisty spirit. A regular, proper young lady would bore me to tears. I think we will suit each other well."

"I hope so," the Viscount said fervently. "She deserves happiness. She has had so little of it…"

"How so?" Thomas's voice was sharper than he had intended. "What has happened to her?"

"I just meant that she has known much sorrow," the Viscount replied. "It is not easy being orphaned so young." He laughed ruefully. "But it has made her stronger, and she would not be the person she is now if not for it, I suppose."

"Yes, adversity makes us all stronger." Thomas smiled wryly. "You have my word that I will look after her and treat her well, Whitley. She will not suffer at my hands. Your mind can rest on that score."

The Viscount gave a grateful smile which faded a little. "As to my sister's dowry…"

Thomas waved a dismissive hand in the air. "I do not require a dowry, Whitley. I have enough wealth to last me a lifetime." He looked at the gentleman carefully. "Keep it and absorb it into your estate."

The Viscount looked troubled. "Oh, no, that would not do at all," he said stiffly. "That is not the proper way…"

"We do not always need to do things the proper way," Thomas insisted, raising his eyebrows. "I do not need the dowry, and that is the end of it as far as I am concerned."

The Viscount looked so grateful that Thomas was almost tempted to lean across the table and tell him that he intended to pay off his debts as well but stopped himself just in time. Catherine had stressed that he must not tell her brother the terms of their agreement for fear of denting his pride. Thomas understood that.

"Very well," the Viscount relented, his smile widening. "I suppose it is all settled, then." He hesitated. "Do you wish us to take care of the wedding arrangements?"

"No need." Thomas stood up. "I will do it all. I shall arrange it for a week from today. Shall we go and inform your sister?"

"Yes, Cathy will be eager to hear about it all." The Viscount stood up, holding out his hand which Thomas shook. "Welcome to the family, Your Grace."

Thomas grinned. "Thank you, Whitley."

As they headed back to the drawing room, Thomas felt a sudden pang of panic. He had just committed to marriage… something he had vowed he would never do. Just to end his grandmother's ridiculous matchmaking attempts—so that he wouldn't be forced to marry an insipid simpleton.

Was he acting too hastily? He didn't really know a single thing about Miss Catherine Audley. He had only just met her. She appeared different from all the other young ladies, but how could he be sure?

She wants a marriage of convenience. She told me. She does not want love or romance. All will be well.

He exhaled slowly. They were on the same page, he was sure of it. At any rate, it was all too late now. The plan had been set in motion, well and truly.

Catherine jumped, spilling her tea when the drawing room door finally opened. Hastily, she stood up as her brother and the Duke of Newden came into the room. Her heart was racing erratically.

She locked eyes with the Duke, feeling a shiver snaking all the way down her spine. She took a deep breath. She could manage it. She would guard her heart well. The Duke would never do to her what her father had done to her mother. She would never give him the opportunity. If he took mistresses—which he would in all likelihood—it wouldn't matter to her. It couldn't matter if she protected her heart.

It was just a business arrangement when all was said and done. She had agreed to marry him to pay off her brother's debts. That was all there was to it.

"Well, it is done," Oliver announced, looking pleased. His shock was gone, and now, he seemed enthusiastic about her impending marriage. "I have given my permission, Cathy."

Thomas reached out, taking her hand. He bent low over it before kissing it softly.

Catherine felt another shiver run down her spine. Just the touch of his lips on her hand was enough. She found herself wishing, quite vividly, that he would turn her hand over in his and fervently kiss her palm before taking each finger in his mouth and slowly sucking on them, one by one…

Stop it! Keep your mind on the matter at hand.

Desperately, she pulled her hand away, gazing at him. His eyes were shining. It was as if he knew exactly what she was thinking… and he was thinking the same thing.

"I am so pleased," she managed to squeak.

"As am I," he breathed, his eyes never leaving hers for a moment. "As am I."