Imitation of Love Page 7

  “What?” Catherine and Alyssa spoke together. That a servant should behave in such a way to her mistress was incomprehensible.

  “I know, we couldn’t believe it either, but Griffiths was in the hall and saw it happen with his very own eyes. Then when Mrs. Somerson had gone, Mr. Oakley told Griffiths that she wasn’t to appear on any of his guest lists ever again.”

  “Did Mrs. Somerson dismiss her maid?” asked Alyssa.

  “No, Miss Alyssa. She actually said sorry to her for being so hysterical, Griffiths said. It was so funny.” Kitty laughed, and then remembered who she was with. “Not as I’d ever slap one of my ladies. And Mr. Oakley comes to me, when I was in the servants’ hall eating my breakfast, and said in such a kind voice, ‘I’m very sorry for what happened yesterday, Kitty and that I wasn’t here to deal with it at the time. I know you’ll be well-treated as Miss Willoughby’s maid’. He didn’t have to do that at all, did he? He’s such a nice gentleman.” Kitty’s face took on a dreamy expression, suggesting that she had her own fantasies about Mr. Oakley. “Let’s hope he finds himself a real lady to marry now. Not that I should be saying such things. Sorry, Miss Willoughby, Miss Alyssa.”

  “Don’t worry, Kitty. I hope so too,” said Catherine.

  Kitty had gone when Alyssa turned to Catherine and after giving her a lingering look, said, ‘Oh dearest…”

  Catherine took Alyssa’s hand. “Help me, Alyssa, to get through the next few months.”

  “Of course I will, darling. You wait until we get to London. There’ll be so many handsome men wanting to dance with you, that you’ll soon forget him.”

  Catherine doubted that very much, but she nodded and quipped, “I shall be the belle of the ball. Or at least the belle of any ball that you don’t attend.”

  Chapter Seven

  Mr. Oakley’s London mansion was every bit as luxurious as Oakley Castle. Situated in Kensington, it was perfectly placed for the many entertainments that London had to offer. On Catherine and Alyssa’s first night in the Capital, he’d arranged a ball, to which over a hundred people were invited.

  “Isn’t it wonderful, Catherine?” said Alyssa, as walked to the ballroom. Alyssa was dressed in a pure white tulle gown, with a sprig of snowdrops in her hair, looking the epitome of spring. Catherine had chosen a dress of green satin, and had piled her dark hair high on her head.

  “It’s very exciting,” said Catherine. She couldn’t deny that the setting was thrilling, even if she had convinced herself she would hate being in London. The room was a symphony of colour, as men and women vied to wear the most colourful outfits. Mr. Oakley wore a jacket of dark red, with an intricate, but subtle gold pattern woven into it. Despite the relative plainness of his attire, Catherine couldn’t help thinking that he stood out from all the other men in the room.

  Alyssa was naturally a sensation, but Catherine also drew her fair share of admirers, as young men queued up to dance with her. At one point she looked across and saw Mr. Oakley dancing with her sister, and hoped that she might be asked next. They had barely spoken since she arrived in London with Alyssa, and then they had only exchanged the usual pleasantries.

  As the evening wore on, it became clear he was not going to ask her to dance. She tried not to let it matter, as she smiled and chatted with the men who were interested in her whilst barely remembering their names. The triviality of it all only increased her feelings of disassociation. Her heart grew heavier, and she wondered how she was ever going to survive the Season.

  When the heat in the room became too much, she used it as an excuse to escape to the garden and get her breath back. Whilst there was still some frost in the mornings, the weather had become milder as Spring began.

  Oakley Mansion, whilst not having grounds as extensive as Oakley Castle, had a pretty garden, where daffodils and snowdrops covered the flowerbeds. Fairy lights in the trees gave the grounds an ethereal glow. Catherine walked the paths, taking deep breaths and trying to calm her fevered brow.

  “Are you tired of your admirers already?”

  Catherine turned to see Oakley following her. Now she was alone with him, she wished he would go away. She was afraid he might be unkind to her again, and she did not have the strength to argue back.

  “I’m not used to so much dancing. And I rather think they were Alyssa’s admirers, who were only dancing with me until she was available.”

  “You’re too modest. I’ve already had two young men approach me declaring undying love for you, and asking for your hand.”

  “That’s ludicrous. I’ve hardly said two words to the majority of the men who asked me to dance. I hope you told them I wasn’t in the market for a husband.”

  “I’d never be foolish enough to make such a blanket statement, even if you are.”

  “Yes, I forget. Your plan is to unload me and my nefarious behaviour as soon as possible.”

  “Now you’re being childish. The two young men who asked are from good families, and would be able to offer you a good life.”

  “I don’t want this sort of life,” said Catherine. “Where husbands and wives are frowned upon for spending time together, and each find a lover as soon as a respectable amount of time has passed. I may have done something that you believe is reprehensible, but I have not yet had to sell myself in order to eat.”

  “You were quite content to sell your sister.”

  Catherine raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it before she reached his face. “Don’t ever try to strike me again, Catherine. I don’t believe in hitting women, but I also believe it cuts both ways. A lady should never strike a man either.”

  “I hate you!”

  “Really?” At that he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She wanted to pull away. She should have stopped him, but being in his arms and feeling his mouth on hers was everything she’d ever wanted. She let herself fall into the kiss, forgetting propriety and that she was supposed to hate him. Just as quickly as he’d grabbed her, he set her away from him. “I apologise,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Xander…” she whispered softly.

  “I’ll speak to the young men who approached me, and let you know their names. I trust you’ll take at least one of the offers seriously.”

  “You want me to marry someone else? After that kiss?”

  “I think the sooner you’re married the better.”

  “Yes,” said Catherine, struggling to restrain her temper. “You’re right. I’m a danger to myself if I allow one to kiss convince me a man cares for me. Since you’re obviously so wise and all-knowing, why don’t you choose my husband from the likely contenders? I’ll abide by your decision. Just tell me where to be on my wedding day.” She was gratified to see that he looked as shocked as if she had slapped him.

  ***

  Catherine had never felt so homesick. She’d just about convinced herself that Willoughby Manor wasn’t her home anymore. But the morning after the ball, after a sleepless and distressful night, she wished she was there, in her old room overlooking the park. They’d had nothing, but it made life much less complicated.

  She had some money left over from the funds Mr. Oakley had given her for the dressmaker, having only bought what was necessary, despite his insistence she bought an entire wardrobe. She guessed that like most men he wouldn’t really notice what she wore, or whether she was seen in the same dress twice. It was the sort of thing only other women noticed. He could probably get his money back for most of them. She’d have no need for such gowns in the country.

  The question was whether Cousin George would be willing to take her in. She would have to throw herself at his mercy and make him see that he couldn’t abandon her. Anything would be better than Mr. Oakley choosing a husband for her, and having to spend her life with a man she could never love as she loved him.

  She thought of writing to Cousin George first, but decided it might have more impact if she just turned up on the doorstep. As it was early, and the ball had finished
extremely late, everyone else in the house had slept in. If Catherine were to escape Aunt Harriet, she would have to be quick. She dressed in a dark blue travelling coat, and put on a matching bonnet. She wrote a quick note to Alyssa, and with just a few things in a bag, she left the house long before Kitty was meant to wake her.

  London in the morning was fascinating to see, before all the hustle and bustle began. Apart from some young urchins out and about, there were few people around. She began to wish she could spend more time in the Capital. She and Alyssa had meant to be going sightseeing with Aunt Harriet. She felt a pang as she thought of how she’d left Alyssa. But her sister’s happiness was assured. Catherine had no doubt that the love Alyssa and Harrington shared was going to last beyond the Season. Whilst Alyssa had been surrounded by doting young men the night before, her eyes had scoured the room for Harrington. She looked apprehensive until she found him in the crowd and her frown quickly turned into a smile.

  As far as Catherine was concerned, she had done her best for her sister. She could do no more. If she did feel a pang of guilt at leaving Alyssa, the memory of Xander’s kiss and his cruel words afterwards spurred her on through the early morning streets. Had her mind not been in such turmoil, she would have considered that there would be no welcome for her from Cousin George, and she might even have to retrace her steps, having no-one else to protect her. But she was committed to the course upon which she’d set, and nothing would change her mind.

  She headed towards a coaching company, hoping she would be able to find one going north towards Willoughby Manor. As she walked, she became aware of a black closed in carriage moving slowly behind her.

  “Miss Willoughby…” a familiar voice said. “It is Miss Willoughby, isn’t it?”

  She turned around to see Mrs. Somerson leaning out of the window. “Good morning,” said Catherine, in polite but icy tones. The carriage stopped alongside her, and she saw that it had two rather burly looking men sitting at the front.

  “Where are you headed on this fine morning? May I offer you a lift?”

  Something made the back of Catherine’s neck tingle. A feeling that all was not right. Mrs. Somerson was being polite to her for a start. That the lady was awake at such an early hour was another concern. “Thank you,” said Catherine. “But I’d rather walk. I need the exercise.”

  “Oh but it’s much nicer to see London in a carriage, I always think. Please, come and join me. I feel I owe you an apology for my behaviour at Oakley Castle.”

  “I think Kitty is the one in need of an apology,” said Catherine.

  “Yes, that is why I wish to speak to you. Mr. Oakley is furious with me. And justifiably so. I behaved badly. I was heartbroken you see, because … well, there are things I am sure he would rather I did not discuss with his ward. I’d hoped that you might convince him that I see the error of my ways and wish to seek his forgiveness.”

  “I do not think I wish to become involved,” said Catherine. “Besides, I’m going away. I shan’t be seeing him for some time.” As soon as the words were out, Catherine knew she’d made a grave mistake. The two men, as if by some silent design, jumped down from the carriage and grabbed her. Before she could scream, one clamped his dirty hand over her mouth, whilst the other put a sack over her head. She struggled violently, but they were too strong for her.

  “Quickly, quickly!” a woman’s voice said. It wasn’t Mrs. Somerson, and in her panic, Catherine could not place the speaker. “Get her in the carriage.”

  She was thrown roughly into the carriage, and pinned in place, struggling to break free all the time. “Be quiet, you stupid girl!” Someone clouted her hard around the head, and she fell into blackness.

  Catherine didn’t know how long she was unconscious, only that when she came to, the sounds outside seemed to have changed. The city of London, even in the morning, had its own particular rhythm. But Catherine was a country girl, and it didn’t take her long to realize they’d travelled into the countryside. She put her hand to her aching head and realized that somewhere along the way she’d lost her blue bonnet.

  “Are you going to be sensible?” the woman asked. “If not we will have to kill you.”

  “Yes.”

  She felt the sacking being pulled from her, and struggled for a moment to focus. She found that she was sitting between Phoebe Somerson, and the French maid, Celine.

  It was Celine’s voice she heard, but with a lower class English accent. She seemed to be very much in control of the situation.

  “So Mr. Oakley believes you are going away?” said Celine. “It is no good trying to lie. We’ve already heard you say it.”

  “Yes. I left a note saying that I was travelling North to my old home. But they’re sure to find out I haven’t reached my destination.”

  “Willoughby Manor is a full day’s travel from London,” said Celine, who was clearly very well informed. “It will take you a day to get there, and even if they write to you, it won’t be soon, I shouldn’t think. Not when you’ve only just left. So that’s at least another day for the letter to reach Willoughby, and another day for your cousin – George isn’t it? – to write back and say you didn’t arrive. By then it will all be over.”

  Catherine didn’t want to admit that no one might write to her at all, apart from Alyssa, and even she might wait a week or so. Mr. Oakley would be glad to see the back of her, and she felt sure no one else who would miss her absence. “What will be over?”

  “Our task. The one you are going to help us with. Since you made it impossible for us to continue.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You told Mr. Oakley the names on the forged letters of introduction. Now they’re unusable, so you have to create more.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Catherine’s mind was working overtime. Celine had clearly been listening at the study door. Had she also picked up on Xander being the Captain? She prayed that was not the case. Neither of them had said he was. Though there had been hints.

  “Don’t play innocent with me. We know it was you who forged the documents.”

  “It was my brother, Jimmy and he’s dead. I suppose it was your men who killed him.”

  “They’ll kill you if you don’t cooperate.”

  “So be it. Even if I were able to do it, I’d rather die than help you.”

  “Then when you’re dead, we’ll travel back to London and kill your sister.”

  “Don’t you dare hurt Alyssa!”

  Celine gripped Catherine’s arm. “Then you’d better do as we say.”

  Catherine struggled for a moment, thinking she might jump out, but the carriage was going too fast. She didn’t fear death, if that was what awaited her, but she did fear it happening painfully over a long period of time as she lay with broken limbs in a ditch somewhere in the countryside. She knew they were going to kill her anyway. That much was certain. They couldn’t afford to let her live once they’d forced her to complete the task they set her. Just as they’d killed Jimmy to silence him. But she couldn’t let them hurt Alyssa. Her sister was an innocent in all of this. Although she knew about Catherine being involved in the forgery, she knew nothing of the details. What Xander said about Alyssa suffering for her behaviour was coming true, but she hadn’t thought for a moment that such a thing would happen.

  “It was you who approached Jimmy, wasn’t it?” Catherine asked, looking at Mrs. Somerson. She wanted to get as much information as she could, in case she did manage to escape.

  “He was one of my easier conquests, unlike Mr. Oakley. Even when Oakley was in my arms, I never felt that I really owned him.”

  Catherine winced inwardly. She hated to think of Xander being with the Somerson woman, perhaps kissing her as he’d kissed Catherine in the garden the night before.

  “I feel sure Oakley knows who the Captain is,” said the maid. “Has he said anything to you, Miss Willoughby?” Her voice was menacing.

  “No.”

  “You must k
now who he is.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “I think you’re lying. He used to visit your house. Are you telling me that you provided him with forged documents without ever knowing who he was?”

  “I didn’t provide him with anything. I don’t know who he is. My brother never told me. The Captain was always in disguise and I only saw him from a distance. All I know is that he has a common accent.” She looked at Celine. “Like yours.”

  “Don’t get impudent with me, Miss Willoughby. I might be tempted to kill you immediately, since you’re clearly no use to us now. But I think you are.”

  Blood run through Catherine’s veins like iced water. She had never been so alone. Not only might she not live to see Alyssa marry, she was never going to see Xander again. And she wanted to see him, more than anything, just long enough to tell him how she felt. He might throw it back in her face, as he had the kiss, but at least he would know that she died loving him.