“Perhaps we might join you?” Lord Nottingham asked, offering his arm to Lady Ann. “Serena, will you come with us?”
Catherine smiled at Lady Serena, whose eyes lost something of her surprise as she nodded. Giving Lady Ann the space she needed to take Lord Nottingham’s arm, Catherine managed to lean toward Lady Serena in order to whisper something.
“Just how am I to manage to refuse his company when he seems so eager?” she whispered, praying that her words sounded tormented. “I do not want to be rude, but you know that I do not want to even be near him. And now I am to take a turn with him and, thereafter, dance in his arms.” She blew out an exasperated breath and, much to her relief, saw Lady Serena’s eyes flare with understanding. There was no time to say more, for Lord Rutherford cleared his throat to capture her attention and held his arm out to her, forcing her to step away from Lady Serena and put her hand on his arm. Some of the other Shadows fell into step behind them all, reassuring Catherine all the more.
“What is it that Lady Serena dislikes about you so much?” she asked, wondering silently if Lady Serena would have enough strength to force a man taller and broader than she from one room to the next, before stabbing his side with a sharp knife. “Have you upset her in some way?”
Lord Rutherford began to shake his head, then stopped. Two spots of color came into his cheeks and he dropped his head, not looking at her. Catherine did not have to ask anything more, knowing already what the answer would be and finding herself rather angry with him. Angry because of what he had done and because of the sort of gentleman he was. A gentleman who showed very little regret, very little consideration for what others thought or felt or required from him.
“Before you begin to berate me, I shall inform you that I am already aware that I ought not to have done such a thing,” he began, making her stiffen. “I confess that I have been eagerly pursuing Lady Serena but, as yet, she has not given me any of her attentions.”
She closed her eyes, her skin crawling. The urge to pull her hand from his arm and to turn away from him completely grew steadily but she forced herself to continue walking.
“And just how did you manage to achieve such a thing with a young lady of quality?” she asked, forcing herself to keep her voice low. “Particularly when she is well protected by her brother?”
Lord Rutherford could not meet her gaze. He kept his head turned away from her, his gaze settling a little to his right as they meandered slowly through the crowd.
“Lady Catherine,” he said, so quietly that she was forced to lean a little closer to him in order to hear what was said. “Must I tell you all of my mistakes? Must I bring down yet more shame upon my head? I am already fully aware that I have not behaved as a gentleman ought and yet you insist on pouring such observations upon me again and again, like boiling oil that is poured from the battlements.” Swallowing hard, he finally turned his head to look at her and she was surprised to see what looked like regret there. “I know I ought not to have done such a foolish and unfair thing.”
“It sounds as though you are being truthful in your assertions, Lord Rutherford,” she told him, her tone skeptical. “And yet I find it quite impossible to believe you.”
Much to her surprise, his free hand came to rest over hers and she looked up at him sharply. His expression was tight, his eyes searching her own, his lips thin and his pallor a little gray.
He was frightened.
“It may not be simple to understand, Lady Catherine, but realizing that someone wishes to kill me has made me consider a good many things,” he told her, his voice low yet steady. “The worst realization has been that there are more than a few of my acquaintances and certainly many in the beau monde who consider me nothing more than a rogue, who might well have reason to take out their anger upon me.” He sighed and dropped his gaze. “Your words have been sharp and penetrating, Lady Catherine, but they have lingered within my heart no matter what I have tried.” After a glance over his shoulder, he let out a long, heavy sigh. “I have done Lady Serena wrong and I should seek her forgiveness.”
Catherine did not know what to say. She wanted to believe that this was nothing more than a ploy to encourage her to be gentler with him, but there was something in his manner that she could not turn away from. Was he now truly sorrowful? Had he any real intention of changing from a rake to an honest, considerate gentleman? She could hardly bring herself to even consider believing it.
“I believe this is our dance, Lady Catherine,” said a voice behind her, and she turned to see Lord Nottingham bowing low, one hand outstretched as he rose. “Shall we?”
Catherine felt nothing other than relief as she nodded and took his hand, not even glancing back at Lord Rutherford as they stepped out onto the dance floor. She enjoyed Lord Nottingham’s dancing, finding him to be an excellent and considerate partner, who did not once step on her toes. In fact, by the time the dance came to an end, she found herself quite delighted, having forgotten all about Lord Rutherford and the remarks he had expressed.
“How very enjoyable that was,” Lord Nottingham said with a broad smile as he led her from the floor. “Ah, and there is your sister.”
“Thank you,” Catherine murmured, suddenly realizing that she could not see Lord Rutherford standing nearby, waiting for them to return. Had he taken Lady Serena onto the dance floor unexpectedly? If not, then where had he gone?
Her heart began to pound as she returned to stand beside her sister and Lord Paxton, who had both come from the dance floor. Lady Ann turned to her left and Catherine saw Lady Serena standing there also, waiting for them.
Then Rutherford is not dancing with Lady Serena, she said to herself, keeping her smile fixed to her lips as she joined the others. So, where has he gone?
“I must excuse myself, Lady Catherine,” Lord Nottingham said regretfully. “I am now to dance with my sister, I believe.”
“Oh, but of course!” she exclaimed, smiling warmly at Lady Serena, who bobbed a quick curtsy. “Thank you, Lord Nottingham.”
The moment he led Lady Serena out for the next dance, Catherine turned to Lady Ann and Lord Paxton.
“Where is Rutherford?” she hissed in a low voice, seeing Lady Haddington and Lady Bentham standing some distance away, looking around them as though they, too, could not place Lord Rutherford. “Where did he go when you danced?”
“He—he remained here,” Lady Ann replied quietly, her eyes sparking with anxiety. “I am sure he…” She turned her head and saw Lady Paxton hurrying toward them. “Ah, Lady Paxton. Where is Lord Rutherford?”
Lady Paxton shook her head as she grasped Catherine’s arm tightly. “He took a young lady onto the floor to dance,” she said softly as the others listened intently, fear mounting in Catherine’s heart. “But in the whirl of the dance, I did not see where he has gone. The others cannot see him either.”
Catherine closed her eyes, letting out a long breath and trying to steady herself. The fear that clasped her heart shocked her, for she had never once felt anything other than dislike for Lord Rutherford. Why was she now so afraid for him when, most likely, he was simply dancing or conversing with someone else?
“He is not foolish,” she said, half to herself, speaking slowly as she thought through what Lord Rutherford had said to her recently. “He was a little afraid about what might happen to him this evening. Therefore…”