“Am I?” She slumped. Never had he seen Lady Anastasia slump as if totally defeated. “Perhaps if your grace is recovered enough, might you consider taking a turn with me around the pond? I believe the cold is settling into my bones.”
A conundrum. If he skated, Katherine would know he wasn’t injured, but anything was better than sitting, so he hobbled along with Lady Anastasia and pasted a smile on his face, though he could have sworn it felt menacing.
What the devil did Baldwyn find so amusing about Katherine? And why was she leaning in to him like that?
He took Lady Anastasia’s outstretched hand into his, and limped while trying to appear a graceful skater, around the outer perimeter of the pond.
“Careful,” Lady Anastasia said to his left. “Or you’ll fall on your injury.” Her smirk told him she didn’t believe for one second he was injured.
“What gave me away?”
“You were limping on the other foot not five minutes ago.”
Benedict cursed. “Perhaps I have a small desire to be nurtured. Is that so wrong?”
“So even the Devil desires good deeds? Interesting.”
Well, when she put it that way…
“How are things progressing with my cousin?” Benedict asked politely.
A blush crept up Lady Anastasia’s cheeks as she jerked her attention away from staring at Baldwyn. “I’m afraid, they aren’t.”
“Aren’t?”
“Progressing. In fact things seem exactly the same as before, well, I guess that isn’t entirely true after last night’s…” She clamped her mouth shut.
Benedict laughed heartily. “Your secret’s safe with me, though I wonder why the blasted man needed to be so inebriated to do something he’s been craving to do for days.”
“I doubt that.” Lady Anastasia looked down and stopped skating.
Benedict wanted to strangle his cousin. How dare he make this woman feel unwanted? It was safe to say that if it was him the girl would already be ruined.
Katherine was a shining example of the way Benedict handled women. But this was different, so he reached over and touched her face, careful to slow his movements enough to gain attention.
“W-what are you doing?” Lady Anastasia sputtered.
“Giving you progression, my lady, in the basest way I can.”
“How?”
“Jealousy.” And with that Benedict leaned down to whisper nonsense into her ear about laughing and managing a tiny blush.
The timing was perfect. Baldwyn’s head snapped to attention, and Katherine’s eyes narrowed. Benedict shook his head slightly and Katherine nodded. How was it that by that simple action, he knew Katherine trusted him? In that very moment?
He was about to skate to her, to steal her away from his Scottish cousin, when shouting commenced from the bench.
“I want to skate, and I’m going to skate!” Agatha wailed.
Merciful heavens above, was it too much to ask for God to have at least given her a quieter voice? Or perhaps the ability to practice patience?
“Crazy old woman,” he muttered as he deposited Lady Anastasia on the bench and made his way toward his aunt, praying a cloak of invisibility would suddenly find a way to shield him from her pensive glare.
She yelled again, “Gentlemen!”
Benedict swallowed. She was referring to him and Baldwyn, like little boys being punished, they slowly skated to her side, each taking an arm.
“I wish to skate,” she announced.
Benedict rolled his eyes at Baldwyn who looked ready to cut himself a tiny ice hole and jump into it. “Yes, I believe the entire pond has been made aware of your desire to skate, Aunt.”
“Hmph.” Her usual response.
“Don’t argue with me, Benedict. Take my arm,” she demanded. “Baldwyn! Look alive there, boy! I’m not growing any younger.”
Clearly, thought Benedict.
“Take my arm and let’s be off!” She waved wildly in the air as if they were planning on flying rather than skating, not that he would say it aloud lest she get ideas that they should figure out a way to catapult her into the icy air.
“If you’ll just hang on to us, I’m sure we can take a turn about the pond, nice and slow now.”
Baldwyn looked heavenward then back to Benedict as if to say, “Do you think we have a chance of leaving her in the middle and feigning memory loss?
“Faster,” Agatha demanded.
“Aunt.” Benedict cleared his throat. “If we go any faster, I believe you’ll lose your breath and have one of those very real coughing fits.” Very real his a—
“I said I would desire for you to take me faster, now do as I say.”
Or reap the consequences, Benedict added mentally.
“As you wish.” He increased his speed, as did Baldwyn and soon the dragon was smiling.
“This is my favorite part.”
“Pardon?” Benedict nearly tripped. Was she just being polite?
“The wind, I miss the wind on my face. Makes an old woman feel alive.” Her pale eyes looked at Benedict and a smile curved her lips. For such an ancient thing, she was quite beautiful still. His heart clenched as she turned her face upward and sighed.
Inwardly scolding himself for being so rude, Benedict tightened his grip on her arm. If she trusted them enough to close her eyes, if she was so completely within their clutches, he was going to do a blasted good job of keeping her standing straight, even if it killed him.
After a few minutes, Agatha sighed. “Stop! I’m cold, take me back to the house at once!” Agatha paused, and released their arms. “Baldwyn, Lady Anastasia looks quite frozen over on the bench, please see to her needs.”
Benedict opened his mouth to speak, but Agatha interrupted, “And Benedict, do be sure that Lady Katherine is brought back to the house soon. She so desired to read this afternoon, and I would hate to see her too frozen to do so.”
With that, Agatha, frail little Agatha skated off, at top speed, alone.
The little witch.
She knew exactly how to skate.
Why the devil did she…?
Separation. Benedict tossed his head back and laughed, torn between the desire to applaud her genius or strangle her for misinterpreting everything going on that afternoon, for she should know him well enough to know. His attraction was to Katherine, not Lady Anastasia.
He skated to Katherine and held out his hand. “Oh, no you don’t,” she teased. “Last time we skated, we both fell and you were peeking beneath my skirts.”
“It isn’t peeking if the skirt flies up.”
“Says who?” Her eyes widened with indignation.
“I do.”
“And let me guess, you’re a duke so it has to count for something?”
“Look how well we are communicating, love.” Benedict pulled her into a tight embrace, not caring that everyone around them was most likely staring. “So if I kiss you right now, it will not matter.”
“B-because you’re a duke.”
“Precisely.”
Katherine leaned in, her eyes half-closed.
“But,” Benedict said when their foreheads touched, “I would hate to subject you to the whisperings and gossip, so another time then.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle before slipping her arm within his.
She tripped, nearly losing her footing.
“My, my, and to think I didn’t even kiss your lips. I wonder if you would be able to walk in a straight line.”
“Obviously I did before.”
“But my kiss is different now,” Benedict argued.
Katherine let out a loud sigh. “You’re baiting me again. You want me to say, ‘but how, Benedict? How is it different?’ Then you’ll lean in and wax poetic about how you’d love to show me Then I’d be breathless, you’d still be the Devil and I’d kick you in the shin. Sound about right?”
“Sometimes you frighten me.” He shuddered.
“Perfect, so let us just skip ahead to the part after where you tell me all about why you felt the need to make Paisley jealous.”
“Straight to the point, I like it.” Benedict smirked. “At this rate, that of a snail or that of a disabled tortoise, Paisley will be happily engaged in holding her hand by the end of the year.”
“I take it by your tone they need to be doing more than holding hands.”
“Considering they will be married, yes that is the idea, nay the point, don’t you think? One cannot beget an heir by osmosis.”
“Osmosis?”
“The practice of—”
“I know what it means, I’m just curious as to why you used that particular analogy.”
“We are on ice you know.” Benedict quirked. “The examples are perfect. Besides, I have a plan.”
“Of course you do.”
Benedict grinned devilishly. His plan was more self-serving than he let Katherine believe. Could he help that he wanted her all to himself? So tonight, after dinner, he would make an absolute spectacle of himself, gaining her attention for the remainder of the evening. Hopefully after several bottles of port, his cousin would loosen up enough to attempt to converse with his fiancée. One could only hope that he wouldn’t have to get the man foxed in order to do so.
Chapter Eighteen
The Christmas Carriage
Katherine left Benedict and went to her room to take a nap before dinner. However, the minute she closed her eyes, all she could see was his face. Foolish of her really, but it was impossible to concentrate on anything else.
Besides, he hadn’t exactly told her his brilliant plan for the evening meal. She actually doubted he knew what he was going to do. His plan, it seemed, was to somehow separate the couples so Paisley was stuck with Lady Anastasia with no means to escape.
Sounded a lot like desperation, but if that’s the only way to get them to pay attention to one another, then so be it. She still wasn’t sure why she was helping, other than Benedict had asked it of her, and she soon found out that when the man smiled, when he leaned in and touched her arm just so, well she would most likely give him anything.
Which did not bode well for any future dark corners or hallways.
She did have some morals, though she felt them crumble every time she tasted his lips.
She shuddered and closed her eyes. Sleep, she just needed sleep.
****
Dinner started pleasantly. Benedict and Paisley sat across from one another at the head of the table, near Lord Marks, and Katherine and Lady Anastasia were across each man respectively.
After the first two courses, Katherine began to wonder if Benedict had lost his nerve.
And then, he leaned in toward Lady Anastasia and mumbled something that made her blush so brightly Katherine was ready to throw wine in the woman’s face. Benedict pulled back, looking more pleased than he ought, then nodded to Katherine.
Clearing her throat, she leaned over and whispered nonsense about the weather into Paisley’s ear, but at the last moment when his eyes turned to gaze into hers, she very gently placed a note in his hand.
He looked down, then up. She shook her head and reached for her wine.
The bait was set, now it was up to her to see if both parties would take it.