The Virgin in the Rake’s Bed by Ava MacAdams
Chapter Twelve
“Iam using you as cover. I hope you do not mind,” Catherine said, when she and Rebecca were taking tea the next day.
“As cover? I do not understand,” her friend replied, looking at her with a puzzled expression.
Catherine had called on Rebecca that morning in an excitable mood. The news of her tryst with Ian behind the rhododendron bushes was by now common knowledge and had reached her father’s ears just before dinner the previous evening.
“Preposterous, outrageous, a scandal!” he had cried, banging his fist down on the table and causing the maids to retreat in fear to the kitchen.
“And why is it so scandalous for a lady to meet with her betrothed in such a way?” Catherine has asked, maintaining her calm in the face of her father’s anger.
“Because such actions do not show you as a lady, Catherine. They show you as a harlot. You run away from your chaperone, only to be discovered in a position of compromise by a woman who has taken great delight in making your business know throughout the ton. What will the Earl of Westwood think now?” he had demanded, and Catherine had told him she had no care at all for what the Earl of Westwood might think.
Thus, the conversation had ended in an impasse. Catherine’s father could not deny that the sharing of a kiss between two persons betrothed was far from scandalous, but he could not muster any acceptance for the marriage, and thus he chastised his daughter for compromising herself. Catherine had no interest in what her father thought, other than to tell him she would continue seeing Ian whether he liked it or not.
“Are you to forbid it?” she had asked, and her father had scowled.
“You are making a grave mistake. You should never see him again, I forbid it,” he had growled, and it was then Catherine had decided to conduct her business in secret.
She had come to the Somerset residence on the auspices of calling on Rebecca, but really it was a ploy before moving on to Westwick Manor. If Rickard or any of the servants should follow her, then they would be satisfied that Catherine had indeed arrived at the destination she had claimed to be visiting, and later she would return as though nothing had happened.
“I have told me father that I am visiting you. I have no doubt that he has sent Rickard or one of the servants to follow me,” Catherine replied, taking a sip of tea.
“But you have come to visit me,” Rebecca replied, looking somewhat confused.
“Yes, but I shall soon be leaving, even though they will think I am staying,” Catherine said. To her, the plan made perfect sense, though it seemed Rebecca still needed some convincing.
“To go where?” Rebecca asked, and Catherine rolled her eyes.
“To see, Ian, of course. My father wishes to forbid it. He thinks there is a scandal in it, but really, he is only interested in one thing, well, two. Title and money, those are his only loves, and in Ian he sees a threat to them both. He would happily see the betrothal crumble. But I am not about to allow that to happen,” Catherine continued.
“But it is not a real betrothal, Catherine. You speak as one who is desirous of this marriage, but it is all a ruse, is it not?” Rebecca asked, and Catherine felt herself blush.
When she had told Rebecca and Samantha of her plan, that much had been true. She had known Ian Bennet only as an acquaintance of her brother, and a business rival of her father. He was a convenient man to have found in the library, a man who had offered her a way out from her predicament and who had come to her aid in her hour of need. Love had not come into it. But now, her feelings were different. She wanted to see Ian – whether or not they were to be married, and she refused to allow her father to dictate when that possibility would arise.
“Perhaps there is some minor truth in my feelings,” she admitted, and Rebecca began to laugh.
“Only minor? Catherine, you have done nothing but speak of Sir Ian Bennet in the most resoundingly complementary tones this morning. You speak of your delight at the scandalous behavior in the park and…” she replied, but Catherine interrupted her.
“It was no scandal, only Lady Millicent makes it so. She is a foolish thing and thinks that even a misplaced hand or fleeting glance is reason enough to spread whispers throughout the whole ton. I enjoyed it. Mr. Bennet was merely instructing me in the art of seduction, and one cannot seduce without a kiss,” she said.
“Seduction? He is teaching you such an art? Be careful, Catherine, for I think he has already succeeded, and you have fallen under his spell,” Rebecca replied, taking a sip of tea, and smiling at Catherine, who suddenly felt terribly embarrassed.
“And what does it matter if I have fallen in love with him? There is no law against it, is there?” she asked.
It was surely her right to fall in love with any man she chose, and to reject any man she chose in favor of another. She felt happy to have such feelings, despite their sudden appearance, and she was willing to allow them to continue, albeit until the truth had to be revealed.
“But does he feel the same for you, or is this just one of his games?” Rebecca asked. “You know of his reputation, you know there was a scandal in the past, all kept hushed up, of course.”
Catherine had tried not to think about the scandals in the past concerning Ian. It was enough for her to know that the woman he had once loved was gone, killed in an accident, the same one that had claimed Ian’s brother, but the rest was no concern to her. The past was the past, and it was the present that mattered, a present in which her own feelings were becoming ever clearer.
“I do not know what feelings he harbors, if any, but for now I am content to continue seeing him and maintain our ruse. He has told me he will continue to teach me the finer points of seduction,” Catherine replied, and Rebecca laughed.
“Oh, dearest Catherine, you do not need to make such excuses. If you are in love with him, then simply say it. Why should you be forced to hide your feelings?” she asked, and Catherine sighed.
“Because of the fact I do not know of his own for me,” she replied, shaking her head sadly.
It was the only sore point in what seemed the most perfect of circumstances. Everything was as it should be in a betrothal. She and Ian enjoyed one another’s company, they engaged in delightful conversation, enchanted one another with their actions and mannerisms, they even kissed and knew intimacy, but as far as Ian was concerned, it was all a ruse, or so she believed.
“But could you not ask him?” Rebecca suggested.
“Good heavens, no, I could not possibly,” Catherine exclaimed, shaking her head.
The very idea of it was quite absurd. Catherine could not imagine saying such a thing to Ian, for she knew well enough his thoughts on marriage and commitment. It was for that very reason – at least she believed – that he had agreed to their ruse. He too thought that she harbored similar feelings, but the truth was that though she had always professed a satisfaction in her spinsterhood, she had willingly believed that one day she might meet a man to call her own.
“Then you will never know, Catherine. You will never know the truth,” Rebecca said, giving Catherine a weak smile. With these words ringing in her ears, Catherine made her excuses and left, determined to do all she could to make her ruse a truth.
