Prologue
“That would not be a wise idea.”
Lady Catherine, eldest daughter of the Earl of Enfield, planted both hands on her hips and glared at the gentleman in front of her. He had rounded a corner with a young lady in tow and she, already prepared to meet him, had not had any qualms in speaking with fervor.
“Miss Cordner, might I suggest that you return to your mother?” she continued, taking a few steps closer to the lady and ignoring the dark-haired gentleman completely. “She will be looking for you and I am certain that running off with Lord Rutherford is not something she would be particularly pleased to hear of.” She arched one eyebrow and the young lady let out a squeak of fright, dropping Lord Rutherford’s hand and turning on her heel to scurry down the hallway.
Lord Rutherford said nothing, one eyebrow lifting as he looked back at Lady Catherine, who held his gaze steadily, not feeling even a hint of anxiety as he drew near to her.
“You have no right to prevent me from doing what I please,” he said, a warning note in his voice. “Just who are you to Miss Cordner?”
She laughed softly and saw the way his brow furrowed, his eyes sparking with anger. “I am not a friend to Miss Cordner,” she answered, arching one eyebrow and looking at him steadily. “Rather, I am acquainted with her mother, the honorable Viscountess Gresham, who has come to beg of me to help with her daughter. Given that Lady Gresham is rather unwell and cannot often come out into society, it has fallen to Miss Cordner’s companion to watch her as she goes about the various occasions and events that take place.” She tipped her head just a little and smiled at the gentleman, as though they were merely having a warm and friendly conversation. “Her companion is easily convinced to allow her charge to do as she pleases, it seems. Or is it more the fact that she gains a little coin from you in order to allow you to take Miss Cordner away from her without any particular difficulty?” She smiled satisfactorily to herself as the color drained from Lord Rutherford’s face. ‘The Shadows’—the small group of ladies who were doing all they could to serve and aid society in solving various puzzles and mysteries that came their way—had been watching Lord Rutherford carefully for some weeks now. It had not taken too long to see him handing money over to Miss Cordner’s companion, even though he had attempted to do so with great care and delicacy so as not to be seen. She did not think particularly highly of Lord Rutherford, given what she now knew of him, and was more than contented to make her displeasure clear.
“I do not think that my business is any concern of yours.”
Laughing, Catherine shook her head. “That is where you are mistaken, Lord Rutherford,” she answered, taking a small step closer to him so that she could look up into his face, no attempt made to try and hide her disdain. “For if someone seeks out my help, then they shall have it, no matter what it is they desire. And Lady Greaves has been deeply distressed, fearing that her daughter will make some sort of foolish mistake without her present to guide her through the treacherous waters of society—and it seems she has been proven right.” Narrowing her eyes, Catherine pointed one finger at Lord Rutherford’s chest, her lips thinning. “Shame on you, Lord Rutherford,” she finished, her voice low now and filled with the anger she felt he deserved. “Shame on you for seeking out someone so vulnerable in order to use her for your own pleasures.”
Lord Rutherford’s brows knotted together, but after a moment, they lifted slowly and then, much to her astonishment, a slow smile replaced the pinched look that had been on his face only moments earlier. When he stepped closer to her, she felt her breath hitch. He looked down into her face, one hand reaching out slowly toward her, and Catherine felt a heat wash all through her, running from her head to her toes and filling her with such a strange emotion that she was forced to drop her head and take in a great gulp of air to steady herself.
“Mayhap, you might wish to take Miss Cordner’s place,” he crooned, as though he were trying to convince a frightened animal to come near him. “I was, as you say, eagerly seeking someone to come out to the gardens with me and since you have convinced her to depart from me—and most likely, never to draw near to me again—might you now be willing to come along with me in her place?”
Catherine looked up into his face, taking in his dark brown eyes, the sweep of his golden hair as it fell lightly over his forehead. He was not an unhandsome gentleman, for his smile certainly had sent her heart into a quickened rhythm as he had looked at her, but given what she knew of his character, Catherine could think of nothing worse than drawing close to him.
“You mistake my presence here, Lord Rutherford,” she told him, pressing one finger hard into his chest and watching with satisfaction as his smile faded away. “I am not seeking out your company, nor do I wish for you to try and convince me that I might need such a thing. Instead, I wish only for you to return to the ball and to leave Miss Cordner well alone.” She smirked and the anger flared in his eyes again. “You will not be able to reach her again, given that her companion will be sent away and another, better lady found in her place. What a shame that you shall have to begin your endeavors with another all over again. It must be exhausting.”
She turned away, leaving her words to slap him, hard. There was nothing in her mind or heart that would convince her to linger beside him, nothing he could say that would encourage her to feel even a shred of sympathy for him. Lord Rutherford was a rake and far too confident in himself for her liking. To make him tumble from his high throne was something of a satisfaction and she allowed herself a broad smile as she made her way back to the ballroom.
“Now, you wait just a moment!”
A gasp tore from her mouth as she turned her head sharply, feeling his hand grasp her arm roughly. He wheeled her around, holding her arm tightly and pulling it so that she was forced to stand on her tiptoes. It was painful, but Catherine refused to let even a single sound of pain leave her lips, biting down hard so that she would not say a word.
“Just who do you think you are, coming to speak to me in such a fashion?” he demanded, glaring down at her, his jaw working furiously and his eyes blazing. “You have no right to—”
“Release me!” Catherine held herself as tall as she could, glaring up at Lord Rutherford. His expression did not change and, much to her disconcertion, his fingers tightened all the more. “What do you think you are doing?”
“I might ask you the same question,” he grated, his anger palpable as he gave her a small shake. “You have the arrogance to question me, to laugh at me, when all the while—”
“I would not question you if you were a true gentleman,” she shot back, interrupting him. “A gentleman does not come out to seek his prey, hunting them and searching for their weaknesses until he can come and take his fill.” She wrenched her arm from his and to her relief, he let her free. “A gentleman does not treat the young ladies of the ton with such inconsideration, stealing their affections and then refusing to have anything to do with them thereafter, once he is satisfied.” Seeing the glint in his eyes, she let out a hard laugh. “Oh, yes, Lord Rutherford, I know all too well that you have done such a thing before. Lady Roberts informed me of your reputation, and I am sorry to say that what she said has been proven quite true.”