The Sinner Page 10

  "I'll be gone for a week or more," he said quickly, returning to the foot of her bed. He sucked in a deep breath that seemed to ease his rigidity, and flopped down on the mattress near her feet like a rag doll. He lay across ways, his elbow bent and his head propped up on his hand. "We'll wed upon my return and celebrate with a grand feast. There won't be time for most of Mother's friends to get here, but believe me, that's a blessing! It'll be the servants and villagers and a few of my own friends who will absolutely adore a little Cat like you. It'll be quite the party, my dear! I love parties. Don't you?" He patted her toes beneath the covers and stood. "Good night, dear betrothed. Sleep well. See you in a week."

  He swept out of her bedchamber before she could utter a word. She blinked after him, wondering what had just happened and why she was still feeling like she'd been hit over the head after such a simple, chaste kiss on the back of her hand.

  "Is he always like that?" she asked her maids.

  "Don't know, my lady," one said. "He's not at home much and when he is, we see him rarely."

  Cat sank back into her pillows with a deep sigh. Once they were wed, would she only see him when he came to her chambers to perform his husbandly duties? And would that be immediately before or after he visited his mistresses?

  CHAPTER 7

  Hughe wasn't gone for a week. He was away for three, although he did write from a village called Sutton Grange to inform Cat he needed to stay longer to attend a wedding. She had much to do in that time, from sewing a new gown to meeting all the servants to preparing for the wedding feast. The entire household was giddy with excitement about the upcoming nuptials between their master and his mysterious betrothed. Cat took great pains to become less mysterious, and she thought she succeeded where the servants were concerned. She had even managed to win over the dowager's companions, who now actively drew her into conversation.

  The dowager herself was another matter. She became quieter, rarely engaging in conversation with anyone. She sat in her enormous chair like a queen holding court and either sewed or closed her eyes and slept.

  "Are you ill, my lady?" Cat asked her the morning before her wedding was to take place. The sun shone through the windows like a beacon, turning the dowager's silvery hair even whiter. The weather had been fine all week and looked set to continue for the wedding.

  "I am quite well," the dowager countess said, without looking up from her sewing.

  "Are you worried that Hughe has not yet returned? I admit to being concerned myself. Will he be home in time for the ceremony, do you think?"

  "He will be. My son may be many things, Catherine, but he does not give his word lightly. If he promised you that he will be back in time then he will be."

  Cat bowed her head. "Of course. I do not doubt it." She returned to her sewing, aware that the eyes of the ladies were on her. All except the dowager's. The stiff old lady was proving to be more difficult to win over than Cat had expected. Even so, she kept trying.

  Cat pressed a hand to her stomacher. "I admit that I'm a little anxious now that the wedding is so close."

  "Why?" Lady Oxley asked. "You've been married before. You know what to expect in the marriage bed."

  Cat's face colored. This was not the sort of conversation she wanted to have with her future mother-in-law. "I do."

  "If you are worried that my son will not treat you well after you're married, then let me assure you that he is a gentleman. He doesn't hurt women."

  Cat gasped. "I never assumed he did!"

  "It makes him a rarity." Lady Oxley punched her needle through the fabric and jerked the thread through so hard that it snapped. With a click of her tongue, she threw the garment into her sewing basket.

  The ladies bent their heads lower over their needlework, but Cat watched her future mother-in-law through her lashes. Had Hughe's father been a heavy-handed husband?

  "Speaking of how rare he is," the dowager said, finally meeting Cat's gaze with her own cool one. "Did he tell you that he made a new will before he left?"

  Cat's heart ground to a halt in her chest. "He's ill?" she whispered.

  "Of course not. He likes to be prepared for all eventualities, even that one."

  Cat's heart restarted and she drew in a deep breath. "I see." She didn't see at all. She wasn't yet his wife. They shouldn't be having this discussion.

  "He told me all about it," his mother said, "since it affects me mostly. You see, under his old will, if he pre-deceased me, I would inherit everything except this house and the surrounding Oxley lands. His cousin, the heir, would get the entailed estate only, which makes up less than a quarter of Hughe's fortune. All Hughe's other properties and interests would be mine. It all goes to you, now."

  Cat blinked at her. He had made provisions for her already? "You mean it comes into effect after our wedding," she clarified.

  "No, Catherine, I mean from now. From the moment that will was signed by witnesses, as it happens. If my son dies, you inherit the majority of his wealth. He has made provision in his will for me to live in Dower House, at the edge of the village until my death, but you will be the mistress of it and everything else not entailed." She leaned forward a little. Her droopy eye twitched at the corner. "Whether or not you have children."

  How remarkable. Cat was Hughe's heiress and they'd not even wed yet! Not too many gentlemen would be so generous to their widows, let alone a fiancée. Stephen certainly hadn't. It meant Cat didn't have to remarry when Hughe died. It meant independence and security forever.

  She took a moment to collect her thoughts. The news had rather scattered them.

  Lady Oxley gathered up her sewing once more. "Of course, there will be children."

  "Of course," Cat muttered, hardly listening. "God willing."

  "It is, after all, your duty."

  That brought Cat's thoughts snapping back to the conversation. She had to remember to keep her wits about her when in Lady Oxley's company, or risk being cut down to size with a few choice words. "I am aware of that," she said.

  "You eat like a bird," the dowager went on. "Be sure to change that. Fatter women bear children more easily and I have it on good authority that your hips are narrow."

  Cat's jaw tightened. "Did you question my maids?"

  "They're loyal to me."

  One day, hopefully soon, they would be loyal to Cat. She would make sure of it. "Dear Lady Oxley," she said with a sweet smile, "you didn't need to speak to my maids. I would have gladly shown you my hips if you'd only asked."

  One of the ladies snickered, but quickly suppressed it when the dowager glared at her.

  Fortunately they were all spared Lady Oxley's retort when a maid burst in, her face flushed. "Lord Oxley has returned! He comes now."

  Cat stood and crossed to the window. A string of horses followed by two carriages and a cart wound its way like a languidly flowing river up the drive toward the house. Oxley led the way on Charger.

  "There are people with him," Cat said, peering down at the riders. All sat tall in their saddles, but one was larger and broader than the others.

  "His friends," Lady Oxley said, her tone grating. "So that's where he went."

  Cat excused herself and headed down the stairs. She ought to greet her betrothed and his friends as they entered the house. Indeed, she was curious about these gentlemen. It would appear his mother didn't approve of them. Since she didn't approve of Cat either, that made her doubly curious.

  She reached the front porch just as Hughe and his friends dismounted and the carriages drew to a stop. Before Cat could see them properly, Hughe bounded up the steps and kissed her on both cheeks.

  "My dear! Are you well?"

  "Very well, thank you," she said. "How were your travels?"

  "Uneventful."

  "Uneventful?" echoed one of the men from behind him. "You call my wedding dull?"

  "I didn't say dull, I said uneventful. In my book, that's a blessing." Hughe presented the man who'd spoken as Mr. Edward Monk. Mr. Monk's s
oft gray eyes sparkled at Cat. He bowed and presented his wife, Elizabeth, a pretty woman who smiled warmly at Cat.

  A handsome fellow came up the steps, holding a baby, his beautiful wife on his arm. Both sported the most charming smiles as they greeted Cat. Hughe introduced them as Orlando and Susanna Holt. She was instructed to call them all by their first names, because apparently Hughe did.

  "So you are the woman who secured the most ridiculous earl in the country!" Orlando declared. "I admire you for putting up with him, my lady." He winked at her and she grinned back.

  Hughe grunted. "I seem to recall saying the same thing to your wife when I first met her."

  "It is an exercise in patience on occasion," Susanna said with a teasing sigh. "Pay them no mind," she said to Cat. "They're the most frustrating men when they're together. It's best to ignore them until they get it out of their system."

  "I'll be sure to remember that," Cat said. "Are you staying long?"

  "Only for the wedding. We must return to our farm in a few days."

  "We'll remain," Elizabeth Monk said. "Indeed, our new home is your gatehouse."

  "Marvelous!" Cat said. Finally some company of her own age! Although the dowager's companions were amiable enough, it would be nice to have a friend nearby. "You must long to settle in."

  "I do," Elizabeth said, looping her arm through her new husband's and smiling up at him. He returned the smile and Cat's heart flipped at the love she saw in his eyes.

  Another man approached. He was the large fellow she'd spotted, with mountainous shoulders and a broad chest like an ancient gladiator. He had dark skin compared to his friends and black eyes that took in Cat with a brisk, assessing sweep. It wasn't until his friends parted that Cat saw he held the hand of a smallish woman at his side. She left him and came up to Cat.

  "It's wonderful to meet you," she said, kissing Cat's cheek. "We do apologize for landing on your doorstep covered in dust. Oxley House is magnificent, isn't it? So many windows!"

  Cat laughed. The woman's enthusiasm was contagious. She liked her instantly. She liked all of them.

  "This is Lucy Coleclough and her husband," Hughe said. "Call him Cole. Everyone does."

  Cole. Why did that name sound familiar?

  The dark man nodded, but didn't smile. "Pleased to meet you, Lady Slade."

  "Cat," she corrected. "It's my pleasure to meet all of you. Welcome to Oxley House."

  It was obvious from their reactions that the three men had been there before, but not their wives. It made her wonder how long they'd each been married, and how their husbands knew Hughe. They were not the sort of men she'd pictured as his friends. None had been introduced with a title, and none were fops like he could be on occasion. Indeed, she'd never met three more masculine men in her life, except perhaps for Hislop. Unlike that horrid toad, they were all amiable. Even the big Cole didn't seem threatening, considering his size. Perhaps if he'd been alone she would have been scared, but his wife's vivaciousness softened him. Such a friendly woman could not love a cold-hearted fellow, and by the looks of things, she seemed to adore him and he her.

  "Congratulations on your wedding," Cat said to the Monks. She supposed Edward would be considered a retainer if he were to live in the gatehouse. She wished she'd inspected it to ensure it was ready and comfortable for a woman to inhabit.

  "It has been the year for weddings," Hughe said on a sigh. "First Orlando and Susanna, then Cole and Lucy, and now the Monks. I was feeling quite left out. But not anymore." He took Cat's hand and rested it on his arm as Elizabeth did to Edward. "I have secured a lovely bride of my own to cherish."

  Cat smiled, even though her heart took a dive in her chest. It was all a performance. Every one of them knew it too, because none met her gaze. They must have been told about the odd circumstances of the betrothal. Not a single person would think that Hughe had fallen madly in love with such a plain woman after a brief encounter.

  Cat extricated herself from her husband's arm and touched the little foot of the baby protruding from the blanket in his father's arms. "He is quite a lovely little fellow," she said to Susanna. "What's his name?"

  "George. Would you like to hold him?"

  Cat accepted the little bundle from his father and stroked his soft cheek. She gently rocked him and smiled when he gurgled. She looked up to tell Susanna again that he was beautiful, but caught Hughe watching her, an odd look on his face. She couldn't quite decipher it. Wonder perhaps? She'd not thought him the sort of man enamored of tiny babes, but she could have been mistaken.

  "Is everything set for the wedding?" Lucy Coleclough asked. "If not, then we are happy to help in any way we can."

  "There's nothing to be done," Cat assured her. "The Oxley servants are very efficient."

  "Hughe got them organized, eh?" Orlando said. "That's like him."

  "It is? I rather thought it was Lady Oxley's doing."

  Orlando and Edward laughed. Cole grunted. "Don't let the limp facade fool you, Cat," Orlando said. "Behind that simpering smile is a man whose ruthless efficiency can accomplish the most complex task in the blink of an eye."

  Hughe's lips flattened as he stared at his friend. The cool eyes turned icy and seemed to convey a message that caused Orlando's smile to shrivel. Edward shifted his feet and Cole looked away. Their wives glanced at one another. Cat got the distinct impression that she was the only one not privy to a secret.

  Then Hughe suddenly turned on a bright smile. "I'm sure you all wish to rest after our journey." The hovering servants took that as a signal to approach the guests. "Your trunks should already be in your chambers, dear ladies. Be sure to ask for anything you desire and it will be granted."

  Cat passed the baby to his mother and watched them leave. She was left alone in the great empty hall with her betrothed, and suddenly didn't know what to do or say. It was a rude reminder that they were still very much strangers.

  "I hope the last few weeks haven't been too trying," he said to her in a formal tone that made her heart sink. She longed for some sort of intimacy, especially after seeing the way he treated his friends and they him.

  "Not at all," she said. "I thought about you every day," she ventured.

  "And I you. My mother didn't test your patience?"

  He wanted to discuss his mother? What did Cat need to say to get him to notice her? "She has been of great assistance in preparing my wedding gown."

  "Hmmm." It wasn't the answer she wanted, but it was all she would get. Cat didn't want to cause difficulties between mother and son, and anyway, she thought the dowager had been quite restrained in her opinions considering she was about to lose her status of mistress of the house to a woman she considered far beneath her.

  "Do you want for anything?" he asked. "Be sure to let the servants know what you like and they'll fetch it for you."

  "Everything is perfect. Thank you, Hughe. I am glad you're back safely." She bit the inside of her lip, unsure how to say what she wanted to say. How did a lady go about asking her intended to come to her bed? "I missed you."

  He smiled. "And I missed you. Your company delights me."

  She took his hand and was glad that he didn't try to avoid the connection. "I hope to get to know you better."

  "Of course you will! We have a lifetime together."

  Her smile grew tight, her insides hollow. He didn't understand her meaning at all. "I would like to get to know you…intimately."

  The muscles in his face changed. The slackness vanished, his eyes opened just that little bit wider, and his mouth turned serious. She was beginning to recognize that these signs signaled the shedding of his foppishness.

  "And I you," he murmured. "Very much."

  She stepped closer and cupped his face. His eyelashes fluttered closed and he breathed deeply as if he could inhale her essence. It thrilled her, bolstered her confidence. Perhaps he did desire her after all. She desperately wanted him to. To have such a man as this want to be in her bed would fill her so completely that
she might burst with the fullness in her heart. Yet surely she was dreaming.

  "Beginning tonight," she said in a throaty voice.

  His eyes opened and he gently withdrew her hand, kissed it then let go. She thought she heard a little sigh, but she could have been mistaken. "A gentleman ought to stay away from his betrothed on the eve of their wedding," he said. "I dare not keep you awake the night before such a long day. It's only one night, Cat."

  Then what did one night matter? She kept her disappointment hidden behind a smile. "Of course. I understand."

  "Tomorrow night. I promise. For now, I must see my mother or I'll be the worst son in the world."

  She watched him go with a sinking heart, unsure what to think. She had just invited him to share her bed, but he'd refused. What sort of man did that? Tomorrow night was only one more night, yet it felt like a lifetime away. She hadn't realized it, but she now knew that she desperately wanted to hold her husband in her arms and be held by him in return. She wanted to be kissed by him again and again, and wanted him inside her, claiming her.

  She had fallen in love with him, and fallen heavily. Not having that love returned was going to make for a very long and unfulfilling marriage.

  ***

  Cat gave up trying to sleep some time after retiring for the night. All was in order for the morning, yet she couldn't stop thinking about the wedding, about Hughe, about the life ahead of her as Lady Oxley. About their wedding night.

  Did he desire her or not? Was that smokiness in his eyes genuine, or was he playing a part? He was a most mysterious man. Added to which, she got the feeling his friends knew something about him that she did not. It was vexing.

  She tossed and turned until she could stand it no longer. She threw a house coat around her shoulders and slipped quietly out of her bedchamber, careful not to disturb the sleeping maids.

  She lit a candle and made her way to the stairs with the intention of going up to the tower room where she could look out at the night sky. It was what she'd often done from her chamber at Slade Hall to settle her nerves. The stars and moon were a peaceful reminder that the world continued on, no matter what happened in the lives of mortals below.