Chapter 3
Gideon stood impassively as the carriage barreled forward, the driver oblivious. He had barely raised his hand to signal when Catherine flew into the street.
Instinct overtook him.
He launched himself forward and shoved her hard, palms flat against her back, sending her sprawling clear of the horses’ path.
The driver’s shout rang out into the night.
Leather reins snapped taut.
The horses screamed and reared, hooves slashing the air—and the iron-rimmed wheel caught Gideon square in the shoulder with a sickening crack.
He was hurled to the cobbles, landing on his back and sharply rapping the back of his head against the stone. Catherine, the woman he had pretended to recognize but who was nothing but a stranger, ran to his side.
“Oh my God, Aaron!” She dropped to her knees beside him, her hands hovering over his chest, his shoulder, unsure where to touch without causing more pain. “I'm so sorry—I didn't mean—I never wanted you hurt, I only wanted—”
The carriage bore two bright lanterns to either side of the driver. They cast a strong light down onto the woman who knelt beside him. A friend of his twin brother, Aaron. The man everyone believed Gideon to be.
Her friendship with Aaron can mean nothing good to me. Nothing that came from Aaron was good. Even his name. My deception can only be put in jeopardy by association with someone who knew Aaron well.
His eyes swam into focus, and he found himself looking up at an angel. She was haloed in the light from the carriage. It picked out the silky sheen of her flowing mane of hair. Her face was round, and her nose was pretty and delicate. Her mouth was a rosebud that begged to be kissed.
“Damn you…” he murmured before consciousness fled.
“I am sorry, Aaron. For what I have done to you and the bother I have caused you. More sorry than you can know...”
The sobbing reached Gideon, and he angled his head towards it, but did not open his eyes.
Pain ruled his skull, and he knew that unshuttering his eyelids would only make it worse.
It was only when Catherine gave a small moan, as if in pain, that his eyes opened instinctively.
He was transported to his bedchamber, lying atop his bed, fully dressed and with a cool, wet linen across his forehead.
Catherine sat hunched over in a chair beside the bed. She had both arms wrapped around her middle, and her face was sickly pale. When she saw him open his eyes, she straightened and wiped her cheeks, but the pain remained writ large on her face.
“You are awake, thank the angels!”
“I am… indeed,” Gideon squinted, trudging himself up on his elbows, “what in the blazes happened? I remember leading you to the exit of Spencer’s, and then…”
“You summoned a carriage, and it hit you. The driver was going too fast without enough care,” she said, blushing.
Gideon frowned, touching his head and wincing.
“You are a friend of…” he stopped himself.
I was about to say a friend of Aaron’s! That would put the cat among the pigeons. And utterly destroy the lie I have been living as Duke. I must get control of myself. And get rid of this woman. She is the cause of it.
“Mine…” he corrected clumsily, “since boyhood.”
“Yes. Do you truly remember now?”
There was a question in her eyes, and he wondered if he had said anything else to make her suspicious.
“I… do. But my mind is addled due to the accident. I do not wish to be testing it, looking for long-lost memories. Why did you come and find me?”
Suddenly, he remembered the conversation in the club. Remembered her plea. She sought the help of the Duke of Winchester to escape a marriage she did not want. But it would involve him in a state of affairs he did not care to be involved in.
And the Quakers would not like to hear that I had interfered in the arrangement of a marriage. It would stink of sin to those God-botherers, and my investment would disappear. I must be hard as steel.
He tried to sit up, but Catherine was on her feet first, pressing him back to the bed.
“Do not restrain me in my own house, woman!” he snapped immediately.
She froze, leaning over him. In the subdued light of the bedroom, her face was changed from the glowing angelic beauty he once remembered.
Shadows made her mysterious, took away her innocence, and added sultriness, though he doubted she intended it.
Her hair fell around her face and tickled his.
There was a fine, fresh fragrance to it that made him want to hold it to his nose, savor it.
Her features were round and smooth, eyes seemed to glitter gold as she glanced across the room.
His eyes fell on her lips. So plump and deliciously feminine, while lacking any of the usual cosmetic additions of oil and color that women of modernity seemed to favor.
His breath caught as he studied her, heart giving a leap.
“Your Grace? Should I send for Mr. McKay?” came a deferential male voice from a scarcely lit corner.
That was Gough, one of his manservants and his valet. Harold McKay was the butler at Caerleon Manor.
“No, Gough. But fetch me some wine. My throat is dry.”
Gough rose from his seat in the corner of the room and left, leaving the door ajar. McKay would have apoplexy to hear that the man had left the Duke alone with an unmarried female. It would offend his Calvinist sensibilities.
And inflame his protective instincts. That brute can be worse than my grandmother.
He took Catherine’s hands in both of his and gently removed them from his shoulders. When he did, she seemed to realize she had been leaning over him and holding him onto the bed. She gave a start and shrank back, then winced and put a hand to her stomach.
“You are unwell?” he asked.
“Quite well. Simply… nervous,” she replied.
Gideon slowly sat up, facing her.
“My head aches abominably,” he grumbled.
“That was… my fault. I apologize.”
“Do you indeed? How gracious. I was quite content at Spencer’s. Now my evening is ruined.”
Catherine looked down, her hands in her lap. Suddenly, she clasped them together tightly, fingers interlocked. Gideon spotted the tremor, though. It was hard to be certain, but he thought she looked pale, too. More than the usual delicate femininity. He frowned.
Whoever she is, I do not think she is well at all.
“I think perhaps that you should be in bed yourself. You do not look well,” he mumbled.
She looked up, seeming alarmed, and he raised his hands, palm outward.
“It was not an invitation, I can assure you. In your own bed, and preferably in your own house.”
“That would be my Aunt and Uncle’s house, and that is not a pleasant place for me.”
“I am sure you exaggerate,” he said dismissively.
“Why would I?” she demanded.
There was fire in her voice suddenly. She had been plaintive and deferential, but now her eyes blazed. Gideon watched her without replying. She held his gaze, and there lay something thrilling in the prolonged stare. He felt that he was being challenged.
Ultimately, he tore his eyes from hers first.
I must be rid of this woman. She knew Aaron from childhood. It must have been during the period that I was in exile. I have no knowledge of her. But if she knew Aaron, then the longer she is around me, the greater the risk of discovery.
“Do you think that I am someone who is attempting to spin a yarn and obtain a place in your good graces. Or in your household?” she sounded outraged and now stood up.
Gideon watched her curiously but kept his interest suppressed. He sensed that the slightest sign of his intrigue would make it harder to be rid of her.
“I do not know. You appear from nowhere. Out of the mists of time. So long ago that I barely remember. You beg for my help…”
“I have not begged!”
“It is a touch late for pride, don’t you think? After arriving at Spencer’s and pleading for my help in front of my acquaintances, and… by the way, how did we come to be back here?”
He had not questioned it until now, but realization suddenly struck him that he had no memory of the transition from Spencer’s to his house.
“I—I made the carriage driver bring us here,” she answered, chin upturned still. “I told him who you were and he obliged gladly.”
Gideon leaped to his feet and then regretted it.
His head spun, and he tottered. Catherine moved to his side and steadied him.
His head was full of her perfume, and it seemed to calm him somewhat.
At least the spinning subsided. It was a pleasant, mild orange blossom scent.
Deliciously feminine and with a hint of innocence.
“I am quite capable of standing,” he bayed, reluctantly disengaging from her.
But the memory of her soft, warm body against his was hard to dislodge. Part of him wanted her close again. He strode, somewhat unsteadily, across the room to where there rested a decanter of brandy and a single glass. He poured himself an unhealthy measure.
“It is inconceivable that the driver will not talk of what he has seen. That the Duke of Winchester was delivered to his home in the company of a woman who was picked up outside Spencer’s. It is known that I am unmarried. The ton will have a field day with this gossip…”
“Perhaps the driver will not wish it to be known that he almost killed the Duke of Winchester,” Catherine put forth, mirroring his worry.
“He will omit that part and deny it if asked,” Gideon snapped, “that rogue Everdon will hear the rumor and put two and two together. Oh, blast, but this is a difficult spot.”
“I am truly sorry for the trouble I have caused you,” Catherine ushered, “I was simply desperate, trying to escape… well, a fate worse than death would not be hyperbole.”
Gideon finished his drink and scoffed, wanting her to see him as unpleasant and cynical. Anything to make her wish to leave.
“I have already given my opinion on that.”
Gough returned with a tray on which he bore a bottle of red wine and two empty glasses. The brandy had not slaked his thirst, and he took up the glass and filled it.
“Inform the stables that the carriage needs to be prepared for two,” he told Gough.
“Very good, Your Grace,” Gough turned smartly on his heel.
“No!” Catherine protested, “You cannot mean—I cannot go back!”
“You will. Or you can wander the streets of London, which you will not reach for an hour on foot. We are closer to Windsor than London here.”
I must be hard as stone. Impervious. No trembling lip or moist eye can sway me. I cannot afford to let it.
I will not let it.