Tempest(4)
“Sunderford seems to be a good fellow.” He patted her curls. “You’re getting older, and I confess I’d like to be a grandfather. Lord knows your mother would be over the moon with a wedding to plan, and then grandchildren to dote upon. Ever since we lost Stephen, she hasn’t been the same. Be good to her.”
A burning tide of despair welled up in her. “Safe journey, Papa.”
“Yes. I’ll be going by motor car because your mother has plans for the yacht today. She means to have a luncheon for you and Sunderford and a few friends. I’m sorry I can’t join you.”
Catherine kissed his cheek, loving the familiar smell of his shaving soap. “I’m sorry, too.”
“But, there’s one thing I’m good at and that’s earning the money to pay for this new house and all the trimmings. I’ll see you in a few days, angel.”
It was past eight o’clock and Catherine’s lavish breakfast was waiting under silver covers on a window table in her bedroom. Her father was right; she hadn’t much time before her morning’s ride. The Newport schedule was strictly regimented and today of all days, Catherine would be expected to adhere to it. She’d never seen her mother as angry or determined as she’d looked last night. To make matters worse, Adam Raveneau hadn’t come back inside for the midnight supper and she hadn’t seen him since he’d given her a little nudge, back into the ballroom. Then, he had vanished as mysteriously as he’d appeared.
Sitting down at the table, Catherine found that she had little appetite. Her thoughts were all of Raveneau. Until her first sight of him, Catherine had believed that truly compelling men existed only in novels... like Wuthering Heights. Now that she knew better, it was even more dismal to contemplate the match her mother was engineering.
Just then, Isobel, her maid, popped into the room. “Miss, you’re going to be late if you don’t hurry.”
“Will you bring my riding clothes? If you help me dress, I should have enough time to write a very important note.”
“I’ve decided that the Casino is the best thing in Newport,” Raveneau remarked. “Alice agrees, don’t you old girl?”
Byron leaned down to pet the ancient yellow Labrador retriever Adam had taken into his care upon the death of his mother. “Alice has agreed with everything you’ve said since she was a puppy. Now it’s only worse. She’s as besotted as every other female in your orbit.”
Adam pretended not to hear as the trio stood together near Bellevue Avenue and admired the multi-gabled, shingle-clad façade of the Casino. Beyond the exclusive shops facing the avenue sprawled an assortment of pleasure-spots, including an opulent theatre, a tennis court, a billiard room, piazzas decorated with spindle-work screens, and a grassy interior courtyard.
“At least, by praising the Casino, you’ve said something positive,” Byron observed. “You were a cynic last night.”
“Not completely.”
“No?” He noticed that all the young ladies who were passing in carriages were staring at Raveneau, who looked even more striking with Alice’s expressive face resting against his leg. Byron was used to the fact that women didn’t notice him if Adam was present. “You didn’t dance once, and then you insisted that we leave before supper.”
“I didn’t dance because I was in the teahouse with—”
“God, no— not, ah, I’ve forgotten her name— the woman with the lovely breasts—”
Adam laughed, and more young ladies stared. “You’re thinking of Francine Pembroke. I was supposed to meet her, but I got the wrong teahouse and ended up with Catherine Parrish instead.”
“Wh— what?” Byron goggled. “But, that’s fantastic! She’s the heiress, for God’s sake! Worth millions! Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged, enjoying himself. “Nothing to tell. Cathy’s excruciatingly loving mum is determined that she shall become the Duchess of Sunderford— the biggest title money can buy. They may be betrothed as we speak.”
“You call her Cathy?”
He rewarded him with a sharp stare. “How much longer must we stay here? I’m ready to return to visiting my cousins in Connecticut.”
Byron fell silent, quite aware of the tension emanating from his friend. At length he braced himself and said, “See here, I know that something happened in your family that has caused you to become so adamantly opposed to love or marriage in your own life, however—”
“You are outside of bloody enough, broaching such a topic!”
“I am your friend. Perhaps if you can share whatever it is with me, we can sort it out together. I have always suspected that it might have to do with your father’s death in that avalanche...”
Raveneau turned and spoke in a deceptively calm voice. “I cannot imagine why I would share any unpleasant memories with you or anyone else. The past is over; nothing can change it.”
Just then, a particularly fine sociable rolled toward them along the elm-lined avenue. The carriage was so named for the ease of conversation its opposing cushioned seats afforded. Under an umbrella-like covering, Catherine Parrish was seated across from her friend, Elysia VanGanburg, a tall, willowy girl with flaxen hair. Byron waved and the fine pair of greys pulling the sociable slowed to a stop.
“Good morning, Miss Parrish,” Byron greeted her, walking toward them without a backward glance at Adam.
“Hello, Mr. Matthews. May I present my friend, Miss VanGanburg? Sadly, she was too ill last evening to attend the costume ball, but I’ve been assuring her that it was not half as festive as it sounded.”
Alice had suddenly heard the call of nature and was pulling Raveneau toward the grassy courtyard beyond the entrance to the Casino. Catherine felt a pang when she saw him go, but her doubts were overcome by the simple joy of seeing him again, in broad daylight. The night before hadn’t been a dream after all, and Raveneau looked just as devastatingly attractive in his light trousers, blue serge jacket, and crisp shirt and tie as he had in his wicked Stede Bonnet costume.
“That’s Adam’s dog, Alice,” Byron was explaining a bit awkwardly. “She’s very elderly. Her needs can be... pressing. I’m sure he doesn’t mean to be rude.”
“She’s lovely,” Elysia observed, staring all the while at Adam.
“I won’t keep you, Mr. Matthews,” said Catherine. “But I did want to deliver a note to you... and Lord Raveneau.” She plucked it from her pearl-encrusted reticule, blushing, and handed it to him. “It’s an invitation to a lavish but tedious luncheon my mother is having on our family yacht, the Free Spirit. I thought it might not be quite so dull if you and Lord Raveneau could attend.”
“They have the best French chef in Newport,” Elysia said brightly.
“We’ll be there,” Byron assured them.
Catherine went pale, then pink again. “Oh! Well, then, that’s lovely. We’ll see you at one o’clock.”
As the sociable started forward, Elysia whispered, “Both of them are divine, but I can see what you mean about Lord Raveneau. He’s utterly...”
“Splendid,” Catherine supplied with feeling. “I think he’s trying to avoid me. I could sense last night that he’d begun to back away. No doubt he’s pursued constantly.”
“Why do you think that you’ll be luckier than the others?”
“I don’t— but with Mother thrusting me at the duke, what have I to lose besides a little pride?” She paused, chewing at an uneven fingernail. “I saw a glint in Lord Raveneau’s eyes when I mentioned my dowry. Perhaps he can be bought?”
“Catherine!” she cried, horrified. “I am shocked.”
“Don’t be silly.” Her eyes were dancing as she added, “And, I’d like you to call me Cathy from now on, just like the heroine of Wuthering Heights. It suits me, don’t you think so?”
Chapter 4
“I hate this,” Adam pronounced through clenched teeth. “I’m going back to Connecticut in the morning.”
“I think you’re afraid of her.”
“I don’t know what the devil you’re talking about.”
“Catherine Parrish,” Byron supplied lightly. They had just boarded the Free Spirit and his tone grew increasingly distracted as he took in the surroundings. “Good God, have you ever seen anything like it?”
“You have lost your mind.” He regarded the magnificent yacht with dread. “Alice needs a walk. I’ll just give her a turn around the deck.”
As he watched Adam go off with the dog, Byron felt relief. It would give him a chance to do a bit of business on his own. Through the glass walls of the upper saloon, he could see Catherine Parrish and Elysia VanGanburg holding crystal goblets and chatting quietly amid the other guests. Hermione Parrish hovered nearby with the Duke of Sunderford, who resembled a tortoise more than ever in his yachting togs.
For a moment, Byron wondered if he were doing the right thing. Excessive wealth brought its own set of problems. However, when Catherine Parrish spied him and began to wave, his doubts melted under the unaffected warmth of her smile. Truly, she was perfect.