A Lady of Quality. Louise Gouge M.

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СКАЧАТЬ curls to frame her face would certainly be just the thing to keep Lord Winston’s interest. Or so it seemed to her as she regarded her reflection in the dressing-table mirror.

      Why could she not have plump cheeks like all of the fashionable young ladies? Or a well-rounded shape, like her own twelve-year-old sister? No, she was doomed forever to be a tall, thin reed, with hair as straight as a horse’s tail. The most she could do was to pull her long tresses into a tidy bun, leaving a few wispy strands to hang free at the sides. Or to pull those back with the rest. She could not decide which looked better.

      How silly she was. Lord Winston’s interest in her had been obvious from the first moment their eyes met. If she changed her appearance, he might dislike the new look. And today, she must do nothing to drive him away. In any event, he had enough curls for two people.

      Moving on to her attire, she chose a pretty blue muslin morning gown. Lady Blakemore had provided a modest but adequate wardrobe so Catherine would have something appropriate to wear wherever she went. Shame pricked her conscience over accepting these lovely clothes, which she could well afford herself. But she must continue to play the part of the poor, genteel miss.

      Standing in front of the tall mirror on her wardrobe for a final inspection, she declared herself ready for Lord Winston’s visit and left her bedchamber on the third floor of Blakemore House.

      When she first agreed to Mr. Radcliff’s plan to work as the countess’s companion, she had feared living in town would prevent her from getting her daily exercise. But this Mayfair mansion sat upon a large property with many acres to walk about in safety. Even on a rainy day, the long corridors that took her from her quarters to the rest of the house provided plenty of exercise. She arrived at the first-floor drawing room feeling quite invigorated.

      “Miss du Coeur.”

      Catherine gasped upon hearing her real name, but it was Mr. Radcliff who addressed her in a quiet tone. Her friend was the only denizen of the bright, sunlit room, and he stood before a table in the corner admiring the earl’s collection of small ivory sculptures of African animals.

      “Good afternoon, Mr. Radcliff.” She scurried across the large room so they could talk without fear of being heard by the footman just outside the door. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted from his clothes, an odd fragrance for a gentleman to wear. But to question his choice would be rude. “Do you have any news?”

      “I? Why, no, my dear. Until I came to work this morning, I have been home with my wife and son. You are the one who has ventured out into the excitement of Society. What happened at the marquess’s ball? Did you manage to dance with my cousin?”

      Catherine’s heart twisted at his injured tone. This poor gentleman had from the first expressed sorrow over Lord Winston’s evil actions. How it must grieve him to be unable to expose the baron’s treachery without seeming to covet the man’s title.

      “I did not have to manage at all.” Catherine smiled at the memory. “Lady Blakemore accosted the baron and practically dragged him over to me for an introduction.” Last evening, she had stared down at her hands and held her breath to generate a blush in her cheeks. But she need not mention such artifices, lest Mr. Radcliff think less of her. “He invited me to the supper dance, and we spent the rest of the evening together. In fact, he accepted Lady Blakemore’s invitation to have tea with us after his appointment with Lord Blakemore.”

      “Ah, how fortuitous.” He glanced past her toward the door. “Perhaps I had better disappear. I have told Winston we have barely spoken two words to each other and are not in the slightest way acquainted.”

      “Yes, that is best.” That bothersome scratching within her soul began again, but she forced it away. “Before you go, do you have any words of advice for me?”

      He gazed off toward the front windows. “Hmm. No, my dear, I believe you will know exactly what to do. Engage his emotions, make him love you. The next steps will come in due time.”

      The door swung open, and Lady Blakemore entered, her gaze directed toward the front windows. Catherine hurried back across the room to greet her and to put some distance between herself and Mr. Radcliff. But when she glanced back, he was nowhere to be seen. An icy shiver swept up her back.

      Chapter Four

      “Ah. There you are, my dear.” Lady Blakemore’s expression was pleasant, but a hint of displeasure shaded her words.

      “Forgive me, my lady.” Catherine struggled to appear calm. How could Mr. Radcliff have vanished without a sound? He had been yards away from the servants’ entrance and across the room from the door Lady Blakemore just entered. Perhaps a secret portal in that papered wall? The vertical fence posts among the rose vines might disguise a seam. Such an escape could prove useful to her one day. She struggled to dismiss the mystery and pay attention to her employer. “I thought I was to meet you here.”

      “Hmm. Well, no matter.” Lady Blakemore studied Catherine up and down. “You look quite charming, my dear, but not too pretentious for a companion.” She waved Catherine to a red tapestry settee near the alabaster hearth and sat in an adjacent chair. “Now, today, we will be at home, although not formally. Only a few friends will be calling to discuss plans for the upcoming festivities in August. While there will be countless formal state celebrations, many of us wish to have our own private parties to celebrate the war’s end.” She fluttered an exquisite blue silk fan before her face. “Mrs. Parton will be here soon, of course. Perhaps Lady Bennington...” Folding the fan, she tapped it thoughtfully against her opposite hand, listing other possible attendees for the afternoon.

      And Lord Winston? Catherine could not help but wonder whether Lady Blakemore had entirely forgotten her invitation to the baron.

      “So, of course that means we must cut short our time with Lord Winston. Should he fail to finish his appointment with Blakemore in time, we will have to inform him that his visit must wait.” Was that a question in Lady Blakemore’s eyes as she spoke?

      “Yes, my lady.” Catherine schooled her expression to display indifference, despite her disappointment. Yet why should she be disappointed? Hadn’t Mr. Radcliff told her of Lord Winston’s ambitions to accompany Lord Blakemore to France in late August? If the baron succeeded in attaching himself to the earl, she would be in his company for more than sufficient time to engage his interest and ply him for the truth about his plot against Papa.

      On the one hand, she could hardly wait to get started. On the other, she wondered if she was up to the task, for her lies continued to grate upon her soul. At those times, she pictured poor Mama, Lucien and Isabella being confined to their home in Norfolk and living every moment in fear of bad news, even arrest. She imagined Papa hiding in some hovel or cave, unable to venture out even to obtain food. Such thoughts were sufficient to renew her determination to bring wicked, lying Lord Winston to justice.

      * * *

      “I admire your integrity, Winston.” Lord Blakemore clapped him on the shoulder and guided him away from the oak desk across which they had discussed Winston’s future. “Many a young whelp in his first year in Parliament would jump at the chance to play the spy.” At a small grouping of furniture near the spacious office’s tall windows, the earl gave a gracious wave of his hand. “Sit here, my boy, so you can view my wife’s exquisite gardens.” He chose a straight-backed chair for himself. “I had thought you the perfect candidate for espionage after the du Coeur affair. A great bit of luck, those letters falling into your hands the way they did.” He absently lined up a book with the edge of the mahogany table beside him. “Tell me all the details of СКАЧАТЬ