“I don’t know why I tell you these things. Perhaps because only a soul as dark as mine could ask of me what you have.”
“I am nothing like you, my lord.”
“Are you not? My hand shall do the deed, but it does it at your bidding. You will share the guilt, Lady Catherine. Be certain your conscience can stand the weight of it.”
“It can.” At least she thought it could. She hoped it could. She hated that she doubted. But she didn’t see that any other recourse was available to her. “While your pretending to be the earl’s grandson saved your neck, it also came at a very costly price. Because now, as a lord, you’ve having difficulty acquiring what you want: Frannie.”
“I’m impressed by your astuteness, Lady Catherine. I’ve never been overly impressed with ladies of the nobility.”
“How many do you know well?”
“Obviously not nearly enough. Are you telling me that they’re all as intriguing as you?”
Her heart gave a strange stutter, and she wondered if a woman could die from a man’s attentions. It irritated her that she was pleased that he found her intriguing.
“I believe women are vastly underestimated. After all, we’ve been known, on more than one occasion, to rule an empire.”
“You seem to think very highly of your gender.”
“Indeed I do.”
“Shouldn’t you be married by now?”
It seemed an odd change in topic. Why was everyone so concerned with her marital status? “There is no law as to when one must marry.”
“Why have you not?”
“Obviously I’ve not yet found any man worthy of me.”
He chuckled. “Heaven help the man who does think he’s worthy.”
“I am not as bad as all that.”
“I think as a wife you will be a challenge to any man.”
“You don’t think Frannie will be a challenge?”
“Of course not. Not once we overcome this obstacle.”
“Is that truly what you want? Someone who never offers you a challenge? I think it would be rather boring.”
“I’ve had enough challenges in my life, Lady Catherine. I welcome a marriage without them.”
“Of course. Forgive me. It is not for me to judge what you seek in marriage.”
Yet, she couldn’t help but think about the reason Frannie had given her for not wanting to marry Claybourne.
“I owe him everything, and he owes me nothing. I’m accustomed to dealing with numbers and keeping everything balanced. It seems to me that our marriage would be incredibly lopsided. It doesn’t seem like a pleasant way to live, and in time, I fear we would regret it and eventually lose whatever affection we hold for each other.”
I owe him everything.
I’m not doing for her anything I’ve not done for her before.
Catherine couldn’t help but think that the man Claybourne had killed was somehow tied in with Frannie. Would she ever know the whole story? Did she wish to know it? If his actions were truly justified, would she begin to see him in a favorable light? Would she begin to question her own plans involving him?
He was a man that at least one person felt she owed everything. Frannie hadn’t used the word lightly. She truly felt she owed Claybourne everything. Catherine couldn’t imagine being that much in debt to anyone. Oddly, she wanted to reach across the short distance separating Claybourne from her, take his hand in hers, and plead with him to tell her every sordid detail of his past.
Why was it the more time she spent in his company, the more he intrigued her?
Thankfully the coach came to a halt before she could carry through on what she was certain would be a rash decision. Did she truly want to know his past? Wouldn’t the arrangement be better served if they kept their distance, were more strangers than friends?
The door opened, and she made a move toward it.
“Allow me to go first,” Claybourne said.
“There’s no need for you to escort me.”
“I insist.”
He stepped out, then assisted her in alighting from the coach. He walked with her until they reached the gate that led to the garden and the path used by those delivering goods to the residence.
She placed her hand on the latch. “Good night, my lord. I’ll see you tomorrow at midnight.”
“Catherine?”
She froze. His voice held a roughness, a seriousness that almost terrified her, and an informality that was equally frightening. She thought she should look at him, but she was afraid of what she might see, what he might say. So she waited, barely breathing.
“This person you want dispensed with, is it because he…did he force his attentions—his body—on you?”