Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

" S he will be down soon," Catherine heard her mother say to who she suspected was Lord Livingston.

They had planned an outing in the park as well as tea at one of her favorite shops later, with her mother chaperoning her this time. It was a little embarrassing having her mother out and about with them, but Catherine trusted the woman to maintain a healthy distance, so it wouldn't be too much of a bother.

She descended the stairs into the foyer and smiled when Lord Livingston's eyes lit up when he spotted her. He rushed to the foot of the stairs and held out a hand to her.

"Miss Burlow, you're a vision this morning," he praised.

She blushed as was expected but wondered if that was a good compliment. Was it only that morning she happened to look beautiful?

"Thank you, Lord Livingston."

"Cathy, dear, are you ready?" her mother asked with a bright smile.

"Yes, Mother." Catherine nodded. "I'll just grab a parasol."

In a few short moments, they were out and on their way to the park in Lord Livingston's tasteful coach. Thankfully, there were not many people at the park, but that was probably also due to the early hour.

Lord Livingston had arranged it thus so they would have enough time to study the flora of the park and discuss his latest acquisition, an orchid from the Orient that required special care to grow.

"It cost me a fortune to import it." He laughed. "I had to get a gardener all the way from the Orient to personally escort it and protect it until it was well-situated in my greenhouse."

"You seem the sort to go above and beyond to satisfy your desires," Catherine noted.

"I am such a man. In business as well as pleasure."

His gaze was meaningful and full of promise as he looked at her, and she knew it wouldn't be much longer before he proposed to her. He obviously liked her, and from the hints he had dropped in past conversations, she had all the qualities he was looking for in a partner.

She had really tried to be happy because she was finally securing the match she had dreamed of for so long, but all her traitorous heart could do was pine for someone else who cared nothing for her.

She bowed her head and continued walking, causing him to fall into step with her. She was grateful that her mother was a good distance away from her, or else she'd have elbowed her for not being more excited.

"So, what kind of dress did you get for the Summers' ball?" she heard a familiar voice ask ahead of her.

Her forehead creased into a frown as she wondered at the possibility that the one family she was trying to avoid had somehow appeared in front of her as though her thoughts had conjured them up.

She looked up, and lo and behold, Richard, Emmeline and their mother were standing a few feet away from her, looking like they'd also had the idea to avoid the crush that was sure to come later in the morning once the bon ton finally awoke.

Catherine looked around, trying to find any way she could avoid being spotted as her heart fluttered at the thought of Richard seeing her.

She'd skipped many events in the hope of avoiding him, as she knew she couldn't look into those beautiful blue eyes and not feel that sharp stab of pain his words had caused.

Now he was standing right in front of her, and she had nowhere to hide.

Lord Livingston stopped in his tracks with a glare on his face. He had never quite forgiven or forgotten Richard's slight at the previous ball, but being of a lower social standing, he could do nothing more than glare daggers at the man when he was not looking.

"It's a lovely burgundy—Cathy?!"

Damn. Catherine wanted to groan, but she put on a fake smile and waved at her friend as if she had not just been trying to hide behind Lord Livingston.

Emmy rushed forward and wrapped her in a hug so tight that she couldn't breathe.

"Oh, I have missed you so!" she cried when she released her. "Richard told me you were ending our arrangement because of your ill health. Are you better now? You do look a little pale. I'm still upset you did not think to tell me yourself, but you are forgiven."

Catherine did not meet Lord Livingston's eyes because she was sure he had a curious look on his face. He would definitely be asking her about the said arrangement later, so she would have to think up an excuse quickly.

"It is good to see you too, Emmy," she answered once she was finally free of her friend's grip. "I am sorry also for not informing you of my illness. I am better now, so we will have time to speak later. Maybe you could call on me tomorrow?"

"Alright." Emmy smiled. "Will you be attending the Summers' ball?"

Catherine was grateful for the question because it helped her ignore Richard's presence, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see her mother and the Dowager Duchess talking and looking at them with matching smiles. She wondered briefly what that was about.

"I will be attending," she answered with a nod.

Emmy let out an excited squeal that had her covering her ears. "I am glad! I look forward to seeing you."

"Likewise."

Catherine noticed Lord Livingston and Richard were having a tense discussion out of the corner of her eye and tried hard not to stare at them, but her traitorous heart and body remembered too well everything that had happened between her and Richard.

She felt the familiar sparks of desire inside her as her eyes roamed over his powerful body, her mind replaying with vivid detail how he had imprinted himself on her body with his hands and lips.

When her eyes moved back up to his face, she found that his eyes were on her. Startled, she moved away from their party, not looking where she went.

Watching Catherine leave and continuing the annoying conversation with Lord Livingston was one of the hardest things Richard had to do in a long while, second to watching her walk out of his house and life, knowing he had hurt her terribly.

But he had decided it was best to let her go because there were too many eyes on them, waiting to see what would happen.

He had spotted her even before Emmy had noticed her, and he had seen the exact moment she had spotted them. The alarm that flashed in her eyes had been hilarious, but the effect was minimized by the fact that she had been walking hand in hand with Lord Livingston, laughing and flirting if her blush was anything to go by.

He had felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest as he had seen what the future would look like for her if only he stayed away from her. Lord Livingston could give her the dream life she wanted. Yes, he might not keep her bed sufficiently warm like Richard could, but he could give her the stability that she craved.

It was that thought that kept Richard from punching the man who was trying and failing to keep him away from Catherine.

"I have bought a pretty emerald ring that will complement her eyes perfectly. But since you know her better than I do, what kind of proposal do you think she favors?" Lord Livingston asked, grinning with self-satisfaction.

He obviously thought the news should bother Richard. It did, but Richard would be damned if he gave the man the satisfaction of knowing that.

"She seems the type to prefer private proposals, but if I know anything about women, it's that they always say the opposite of what they mean. Plus, I'd like to send a message to other men that she is finally off the marriage mart and is going to be mine." Lord Livingston added that last part with a wink, squaring his shoulders.

Richard was sorely tempted to discard his chivalry and confess his feelings to Catherine and be done with it. She might not agree to marry him, but it would at least leave her confused enough to not marry this cad.

"I see no reason why this is any concern of mine," he answered tonelessly.

"You are friends with my dear Cathy, are you not?" Lord Livingston asked, still grinning. "I hear she has been a close friend of your family since childhood. I wonder how you never saw her charms and took her for yourself. She is a rather nice lady."

Richard scoffed and looked away from the man. The only reason he had stayed away from Catherine was to not ruin her courtship, but with every word coming out of the Viscount's mouth, it was obvious he was only marrying her to prove a point to him and not because he cared for her.

"I wonder about your reasons for marrying her," Richard mused. "It seems as though you're trying to market her charms to me instead of waxing lyrical like a man in love. Do you even like her?"

Ideally, he wouldn't even give away the fact that he cared for Catherine by asking such a question, but he would be damned before he let anyone hurt her again.

It was better that she remained single than trapped in a marriage she would surely regret for the rest of her life.

The Viscount grinned as though he had finally gotten the reaction he had been aiming for, but Richard ignored it, very much wanting to know the answer to his question.

"Why? Do you care so much for her?" Lord Livingston teased. "I do like her. I mean, she is not a great beauty, but she has the necessary curves, so she'll do. Plus, she has a great sense of humor and has an innocence about her that I haven't seen in a while. It stirs something inside me, and I cannot wait to teach her new tricks. She is also well-learned, so I could grow to like her even more. So yes, Your Grace, I do like Miss Burlow."

Richard's vision turned red—he had to clench his fists to stop himself from punching the man. But finally, he had gotten all the answers he needed.

He would find a way to warn Catherine off agreeing to the Viscount's proposal. There were many more decent gentlemen than him.

Richard would do her that last favor before traveling somewhere for a long while. Perhaps it would help dull the pain piercing his heart every time he imagined Catherine being married to someone else.

"I wish you all the very best, then," he said through gritted teeth.

The Viscount beamed. But before he could respond, the Dowager Duchess and Catherine's mother came up to them.

"Your Grace," the Viscountess greeted, "it's a pleasure to see you again."

"Likewise, Lady Mowbray." Richard smiled. "It has been an age. How is Lord Mowbray?"

"He is well." She smiled. "Would you mind terribly if I borrowed Lord Livingston? The girls and I need his expertise on botany to end our debate."

"Not at all," Richard answered, grinning at her.

And he meant it because he was not sure he could tolerate one more minute of seeing the man's face without throwing a punch.

He watched the Viscountess lead him over to where Catherine and Emmy were chatting animatedly. He took in how pale and muted Catherine looked. Even though she seemed excited talking to his sister, he could spot the exhaustion in her posture.

Guilt ate at him as he wondered if perhaps he was to blame for the sudden illness that made her skip the past few Society events.

His mother walked up to him without him noticing, and by the time he did, she had followed his gaze and smiled knowingly at him.

"I know this isn't the right time to bring this up, but I think it is necessary before you strangle that ignorant man."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

She shook her head and laughed softly. "You forget I gave birth to you and raised you in your formative years. I know all your tells, my darling boy." She laughed, ruffling his hair.

Richard wrinkled his nose at the gesture, but instead of red-hot anger, he felt an ember of the emotion. If anything, he felt comforted by her.

"I think it's time you finally told the poor girl how you feel about her," she added suddenly, startling him.

"I already told you?—"

"Yes, I have heard your reservations, but have you ever stopped to think that your having those reservations shows that you might actually care for her way more than you let on? It takes a selfless and loving person to try to avoid hurting someone else."

"I do care for her, and I do not want to hurt her, but that cannot mean I love her," he argued. "I cannot come to love her."

"You're right." His mother nodded, smiling at him. "You cannot come to love her because you already do."

A frown creased his forehead at her logic.

He did not love Catherine. How could he? He did not even know what love was.

"I do not."

"You are willing to put her happiness above your own, and you actually do care more than you let on," she continued. "I do believe that is what love is. Selflessness. Consideration. Protectiveness. Desire."

The last word prompted him to look over at Catherine again, and the thought of Lord Livingston touching her sent a surge of anger through him.

The Viscount did not deserve to see how beautiful Catherine looked when she climaxed. For all Richard knew, the man wouldn't care about her needs, and she might never experience bliss again.

A woman as passionate as Catherine needed a man who knew how to stoke her fires and not extinguish them.

"I feel if I had come a second later than I did, Lord Livingston would have been in need of a doctor if your glare is anything to go by." The Dowager Duchess laughed. "Tell her how you feel, Son. The worst thing she could say is no."

Her words echoed in his mind. He had never considered the possibility that Catherine could actually reject him, and now that the idea had been planted in his mind, he wondered.

"How?" he sighed. "Livingston's circling her like a hawk."

"I have a plan." His mother smiled. "Do you trust me?"

He shook his head, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Follow my lead."

That was all the warning she gave him before she fell to the ground in a dead faint.

"Mother," he called softly at first, and then he went down on one knee to check her, shaking her softly. "Mother!"

His call was a little louder now and had attracted the attention of the other members of their party.

The Dowager Duchess opened one eye and winked at him, before closing her eye when the others reached them.

"What happened?" Lady Mowbray asked.

"Mother!" Emmy cried.

"We were just talking when she fainted," Richard explained, trying for a worried voice.

Was this really what his mother had in mind?

Lord Livingston was still firmly by Catherine's side.

"Does anyone have smelling salts?" Lady Mowbray asked, rummaging through her reticule.

Catherine searched hers and gave a cry of frustration when she couldn't find any.

"There should be one in the carriage," Emmy suggested.

Richard lifted his mother into his arms and turned to them. "Don't worry, Lady Mowbray, Emmy and I can take care of her," he said, finally catching on to the plan his sister and the two women were hatching.

"Cathy, please come with us," Emmy begged.

"I don't think I'm needed," Catherine argued, trying not to meet his eyes.

Richard had already begun walking so he wouldn't betray his amusement at the entire situation as well as the anxiety that coursed through him at the thought that their plan might fail if she remained as determined as she was to avoid him.

"What if she doesn't come?" he asked his mother, who had started giggling in his arms.

Did she not realize her dress weighed a ton? If she kept up with her laughter, both of them might end up on the floor.

He heaved and lifted her properly, giving her a stern glare that silenced her.

"Have faith," she answered, winking at him and then resuming her act.

He shook his head and continued walking. By the time they were less than three feet from the carriage, his mother decided to wake up dramatically.

"Quick. Get in the carriage," she hissed, all but pushing him inside.

While inside, his heart pounded an unsteady rhythm as he waited with bated breath for Catherine to arrive. He tried to come up with a speech, but words failed him.

Richard did not want to trap her in a marriage that might leave her unhappy, but at the same time, he wanted her desperately. He couldn't stomach the thought of another man calling her his. He did not want to see her in another man's arms.

But…

"Oh, Your Grace, you are well."

Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He moved to the door and waited with bated breath as their plan unfolded.

"Yes, Miss Burlow," his mother answered.

"Mother, where is Richard?" he heard Emmy ask.

"Oh, I sent him back to pick up my reticule," the Dowager Duchess answered.

He heard Catherine's audible sigh of relief and smiled to himself. She would be making a different sound soon, and it would delight him greatly.

"Alright."

"Catherine, would you be a dear and fetch my smelling salts from the carriage? I'm starting to feel a bit dizzy again."

"Alright."

The door opened, and before Catherine could put her foot on the step, Richard's hand shot out and pulled her inside. The driver, already informed of the plan, whipped the horses into motion so she would have no choice but to sit still.

"Richard, what in the bloody hell is wrong with you?" she scolded. "You gave me a fright."

Richard laughed when he saw the angry flush on her neck and cheeks and the scowl on her face. He'd told her once how much he liked the look on her, and indeed it was by far his favorite look on her.

God, he was crazy for this woman.

It was about time he told her.