His Perfect Lady Read online

  “Why? That would be my father’s choice. Considering he was unable to dictate to me while he lived, I don’t see why you believe he would have more success after his death.”

  “I’m sorry.” She lowered her gaze as guilt engulfed her. It hurt her to hear him speak so callously of his father’s recent passing.

  “Save your sympathy for someone who was affected by his death.”

  She stopped and turned to study him. His eyes were guarded. Her heart ached to see him hiding his pain. She used to offer him freedom. He could always be himself around her. So much had changed.

  “My apology was intended for the loss of a relationship with your father, or rather, for my part in it.”

  His lips thinned. “Don’t blame yourself. Things between my father and I were strained before you came along.”

  “But they were not—”

  “I have an idea. Since we will no doubt be seeing each other during the Season, I recommend we forget the past and begin anew.”

  She wanted to argue. To tell him she could never forget him or what they’d once meant to one another, but his offer might be the closest thing to forgiveness she would receive. With a slight smile, she nodded.

  “That sounds like a good idea.”

  “I’m Jonathan Alastair, Viscount Linwood. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He gave a slight bow.

  She responded with a curtsy. “I’m Catherine Gates, wife to the late Solomon Gates.”

  “You are a widow?” His eyes widened as his voice rose in disbelief.

  “Where you were flattered by my knowledge about you, I find myself insulted by your lack thereof.” She placed her hand on her chest, feigning offense. “My last husband passed over a year ago.”

  “Last? Meaning you have had more than one?”

  Unable to contain her disappointment at his complete lack of knowledge about her, she resumed walking. He met up with her and took her arm again. She had hurt him all that time ago, and therefore had no right to be upset, but his ignorance of her past still stung.

  “I have been married twice.”

  He didn’t respond, nor did he outwardly react. She wanted to ask him what he thought but refrained. As the silence continued, she grew uncomfortable.

  “My first husband died six years ago,” she added.

  “So you came to London to seek out a third?” His tone again adopted an amused quality.

  “I don’t see how that is any of your concern, my lord.”

  “I didn’t mean to insult you. I merely am asking for the sake of our re—acquaintanceship.” He smiled down at her with a twinkle in his eye.

  That look was always her undoing. Her breathing increased as she gazed at his face. So much sorrow had clouded her life as of late that she wanted to bask in the joy he always seemed to exude. When he raised his eyebrows, she turned away to clear the trance. He remained an impossible dream.

  “Uncle Toban brought me to London to enjoy the Season.”

  “I see.” He cleared his throat. “In honor of enjoying the Season, might I suggest the theater? My brother and I will be taking in a performance tonight, and it’s going to be spectacular.”

  Shock rendered her silent. Was he inviting her to the theater with him? He stopped and glanced down at her. Although his face held his usual expression, his eyes now shone with something else. Hope?

  She swallowed. “Thank you for the suggestion. I shall take it under consideration.”

  He laughed, and they resumed their course until they arrived back on the main walkway. The day made her recall images of stolen moments with him. As memories enveloped her, everyone else faded away.

  “Thank you for joining me. I have never found Hyde Park to be so enjoyable.” His voice indicated he, too, felt the nostalgia.

  “Yes, very enjoyable.”

  After shooting her a smoldering look she felt all the way to her toes, he excused himself and left. Rooted to the spot, she watched him disappear down the street. She knew she should leave, but she couldn’t force herself. What did that look mean?

  As she went home, she could think of nothing other than seeing him at the theater tonight. His attitude had somehow changed toward her, as if their past truly had been erased. In light of the new circumstances, she could not deny herself the pleasure of being in his company. Although marrying him remained beyond her reach, she needed to discover what that look meant.

  “Good afternoon, my dear,” her uncle greeted her when she arrived back at the townhouse. “Did you enjoy your walk?”

  “I did, thank you.” She bit her lip, wondering how to ask about the theater.

  “Is something on your mind?”

  “Well, at the park I heard mention of the theater performance tonight. It’s supposed to be quite a show.”

  “I have heard praises as well. Perhaps we will take in a performance while we are in London.”

  “Can’t we go tonight?”

  Uncle Toban raised a brow. “I see no reason to rush. Besides, I believe it’s too late to obtain tickets.”

  “I recall you mentioning Lord Dudgery has a box. Perhaps we can impose upon him.”

  His face relaxed as he smiled. “Ah, I see. You wish to see him again. Do you like him? He seems to be taken with you as well.”

  “I don’t know him enough to tell.” Her cheeks heated from allowing him to believe the mistaken impression.

  He laughed, a sound of delight. “Then I’ll see what I can do.”

  As he left the room, she wondered if she’d done the right thing. The idea of seeing Lord Linwood again with their new understanding made her stomach tingle. Dangerous feelings swam through her, bringing back memories of what they shared seven years ago. She had to be on her guard. She could not allow herself to be caught up in him again. And yet . . . She could not change her mind about the theater.

  Jonathan forced his eyes to remain on Rosetta as she delivered her lines. Even with the vision before him, Catherine invaded his thoughts.

  She was no longer married.

  The fact ran through his mind over and over. The chant began the second he ran into her at the park and refused to stop.

  Since they’d decided to forget their past and act as though they’d just met, he would treat Catherine as he would any other woman. That being the case, his interest in her renewed. Any delectable widowed woman of his acquaintance received an invitation to enjoy a pleasurable night with him. His pursuit of her would only last until they were breathless and sated.

  At intermission, he allowed himself to survey the patrons behind him. He couldn’t locate her among the numerous men desperate to catch Rosetta’s attention. Shaking his head at his foolishness, he turned around. Why would Catherine come simply because she knew of his intent to attend?

  “You were right,” Stanwick admitted from beside him. “She’s exquisite.”

  Jonathan’s eyes darted to his brother. Seeing his gaze focused on the stage, Jonathan relaxed. Stanwick referred to Rosetta, not Catherine.

  “Would you care for an introduction?”

  Stanwick’s mouth dropped open. “Do you know her?”

  Laughing, he nodded. “How do you think I obtained these seats so quickly?”

  “When can I meet her?”

  The eagerness in his brother’s eyes increased Jonathan’s mirth.

  “Technically, you have already met, although you lacked an introduction.” Jonathan brushed off a speck of lint from his shoulder then shrugged. “However, I imagine she will seek me out once the performance has ended.”

  “How could I possibly have met her? I would remember . . . Oh.” Stanwick’s eyes widened, then he slowly nodded. “She’s your mistress.”

  The jealousy in his brother’s voice rang with every word. He clearly had fallen under Rosetta’s spell. Jonathan wasn’t surprised. Thinking about the two of them, he realized an introduction would be excellent for his brother. With Rosetta on his arm, Stanwick would be the envy of the room. And Rosetta knew how to show
a man a good time. She was what his brother lacked from life.

  “Although you’ve obviously realized our past relationship offered mutual pleasure, we share nothing beyond that.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Stanwick’s answering grin stretched the length of his face.

  When his brother returned his attention to the closed curtain, no doubt anxious for Rosetta’s reappearance, Jonathan allowed his eyes to drift. In the park something had passed between Catherine and himself, and her appearance tonight would be her acknowledgement of it. Even after their regretful past, sparks still flew between them.

  Training his eyes on the boxes this time, he took in all the joyous people enjoying the delights of the theater. When his eyes fell upon Catherine, his breath caught. Her intense gaze beckoned him as if it alone drew his attention. Shifting his weight, he began to rise, to go to her, but he froze when Dudgery walked up behind her.

  An unexpected stab of jealousy pierced Jonathan in the chest. He wasn’t overly familiar with the emotion, and its appearance made him uncomfortable. However, he couldn’t stop his hands from balling up into fists as he watched Dudgery gently pat Catherine’s arm as if he had a right. Jonathan tried to convince himself Dudgery offered his box for Berwick’s sake, but one look at his doting face said otherwise. Dudgery had his sights on Catherine.

  Catching her eyes once again, Jonathan nodded toward the lobby. Her face didn’t acknowledge his request, but he excused himself from Stanwick regardless. He moved quickly through the people who sought refreshment, hoping to intercept Catherine before he lost her in the crowd. Assuming she intended to meet him at all.

  Luck must have decided to join him tonight, as he saw her emerging from the box alone. His mouth curved into an involuntary smile. She wanted to see him. The heady thought banished the momentary envy from his mind.

  Continuing toward her down the hallway, he worked at keeping the eagerness out of his step. Without a word, he took her arm and escorted her the opposite way from the lobby. Once they passed up the boxes, he opened the door to a closet and hastened her inside before she could protest.

  With the exception of the soft light escaping from under the door, darkness surrounded them. Being unable to see didn’t cause him concern. What he wanted to do didn’t require light.

  “Where are we?” Catherine’s breathless tone held a faint touch of excitement.

  “A storage closet. During a performance, I’ve found the location awards privacy.”

  “Why do we need privacy, my lord?”

  “I remember a time when we didn’t act with such formality toward each other.”

  She sighed. An angry sound. “I don’t. If you recall, we both agreed to forget the past in order to forge a new relationship.”

  The only word that registered was “relationship.” His arms itched to pull her up against him, but she moved away from him. She shifted back until he heard her body make contact with the door.

  “You are right. I’m sorry. And for the first time, I insist you call me Jonathan.”

  “Our association isn’t such that it requires an intimate address.”

  “Again, you’re correct.” Slowly moving forward, Jonathan positioned himself in front of her. “I can change that.”

  He pressed his hands to the door on either side of her. His heart quickened as he inhaled the floral scent of her hair. Dropping his head lower to account for her slighter frame, he neared her lips. Anticipation built up within him, bringing pleasure and torment. He savored the feeling, knowing it’d be his constant companion until she took her place in his bed.

  Brushing an errant curl from her shoulder, his fingers burned as they made contact with her smooth skin. He marveled at how easily she could garner such a reaction from him. No other woman held such power. Although exhilarating, he loathed the helplessness. He didn’t want her to be able to make him feel this way.

  Desperate to control his reaction, he lowered his mouth further until his eyes were level with hers. Even in the low light, he could see how they widened. Dropping his gaze, he inwardly shuddered to see her lips part. She tested him while her concern warded him off.

  Breathing in deeply, he cooled his body. Catherine wouldn’t easily fall into his bed like the others. She needed to be slowly wooed into surrender. To date, he’d never extended such an effort for a woman, but he knew she’d be worth the trouble. In addition, he held onto the hope that bedding her would cure him of the spell she put him under.

  With a tight rein on his control, he lowered still until his lips hovered above her neck. As he gently blew on her flesh, she shuddered, making his body hum. The confirmation that she was as affected as he brought him immense satisfaction. He straightened and forced himself to take a step back.

  “Was that intimate enough for you?” He didn’t try to hide the desire in his voice.

  Her chest heaved as she remained quiet. He silently prayed she would insist it wasn’t enough. Unfortunately, he knew her too well to believe she would give in so easily. Her hesitation, however, offered him more pleasure than he’d expected.

  “Actually, Jonathan, I found your actions much too intimate.”

  “Ah, Catherine, if you believe that, then you have no idea what other joys exist.”

  “I don’t recall giving you leave to address me by my Christian name.” Although her voice held outrage, the passion clouding her words made it hard for him to believe.

  “Accept my apology for my lack of manners. Apparently I haven’t made you feel close enough to me. Allow me to fix such an egregious error.”

  He began to move forward, but she held her hand out as if the slight movement would protect her.

  “That’s all right. I’d be honored if you would call me Catherine.”

  The fear in her face made him want to laugh and scream in frustration at the same time. He’d never forced a woman into a situation she felt uncomfortable with. The fact she believed he’d act otherwise bothered him.

  “Now, that wasn’t so hard. Was it, Catherine?”

  Before she could answer, he grabbed her hand and drew it to his lips. As he gently kissed her palm, he wished she didn’t have the protection of her glove. Repressing the urge to remove the offending material, he rubbed her fingers across his mouth. Her lips parted, but she didn’t move.

  Her rapid heartbeat echoed in the compact space. Hearing her body’s reaction to him while she stood so close only served to feed his desire. The room grew charged in the silence, filling him with longing and want. He couldn’t take the torture any longer. She had to leave, or he’d be tempted to take things further than she was prepared to go.

  “We should return,” he whispered, unable to raise his voice. “The performance will begin soon.”

  “Yes.” She made no move to leave, and he didn’t release her hand.

  “Go now. I’ll follow in a little while to avoid being seen together.”

  She remained still for a minute more before she withdrew her hand and dropped her head. Jonathan cursed the low lighting. Was she regretful? Did she want him to take this further? Although he believed he knew women well, he had little to no experience with women who didn’t want him.

  When she left and the door clicked shut, he slumped back against the shelves. Seducing Catherine would be more difficult than anything he’d attempted before. She wrecked him emotionally, and he feared he wouldn’t survive the endeavor.

  Chapter 3

  Catherine tossed her pillow across the room with as much force as she could muster at such an early hour. Sleep betrayed her. For days now, ever since Jonathan’s almost—kiss, her dreams had brought her nothing but frustration. She didn’t know how much more of this she could handle.

  In that dark room, surrounded by desire and raw masculine strength, she’d been scared. As much as she hated to admit it, the fright hadn’t come from the potent man in front of her, but from somewhere deep within her. Her fear wasn’t of him, but for him. Losing herself in him again would be all too easy,
and she couldn’t allow that to happen.

  Now, in her bedchamber, she could only muster anger toward him. She had been overwhelmed with desire, whereas he intended to tease her. Apparently, he wanted her to suffer when she thought back to that moment. She felt like a fool for allowing him to affect her so thoroughly.

  His torment of her didn’t end in the closet, however. After the performance ended, the lead actress had clung to him as if she owned him. The sight infuriated Catherine. How could he whisk her away to a deserted room, then in the next moment offer his attentions to another woman? What could he possibly want with two women?

  Casting the troubling thoughts aside, she prepared herself for the day, all the while firming her decision to avoid him for the duration of her stay in London. The memory of his lips hovering over hers invaded her mind. Her heart raced, and her resolve faded. Then her traitorous mind conjured ways to “accidentally” run into him again.

  Catherine ignored the thought as she made her way to the drawing room for her At Home. Hearing loud voices, she paused. Immediately, she recognized her uncle’s voice, but the fact she’d never heard him raise it before piqued her interest. Sliding along the wall, she stood not far from the entrance to Uncle Toban’s study.

  “How many times must we have this discussion before you stop?” Uncle Toban’s exasperated voice demanded.

  “I don’t lose on purpose,” Kenneth said, his voice slurred. “One day I’ll win it all back. Then you’ll come to me for funds.”

  “Damn it, Kenneth.” The sound of a fist against a desktop resonated in the hallway. “You can never win enough to pay me back the amounts I’ve settled for you.”

  “But—”

  “Enough. Who is it to this time? I’ll have to make assurances.”