Page 10 of A Daring Desire

With a heroic effort of will, she squashed her mirth and did her best to emulate Cat at her icy best.

“If that is all, my lord, I beg you will excuse me. I have other matters to attend to.”

“Certainly,” he said, pushing away from the fireplace he had been lounging so indolently against and crossing the room towards her. “I won’t take up anymore of your precious time.”

Panic tripped down Rose’s spine as he grew closer, and she was suddenly very certain she did not wish to let this big lout anywhere near her. She took a step back before she could consider it. Amusement lurked in his eyes, though it was a soft expression now, lacking that mocking glint.

“Easy, I won’t sling you over my shoulder and carry you off to my cave,” he said, laughter in his voice.

“Are you quite certain?” she asked tartly. “I have half a mind to ask Jefferies to fetch your club. I assume you left it with him. Or is dragging ladies about by the hair more in your line?”

“Not usually,” he said, sounding thoughtful. “But if you wish it—”

“Oh!” Rose exclaimed, truly outraged now. “Vexatious creature! How dare you!”

He gave a bark of laughter and shook his head. “Truly, I’ve no idea. You provoke me into it, you know.”

“Me?” she repeated, eyes wide with indignation. “I provoke you?”

“Pax,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Both parties survived the skirmish with minor injuries. Let us call a retreat and regroup.”

Too stunned by this gently teasing tone to know how to react, Rose allowed him to take her hand in his before she had the chance to think better of it. Neither of them wore gloves, and the shock of his large, warm hand holding hers had a jolt of electricity lancing from that connection to somewhere entirely different. Flushing scarlet and quite discomposed, Rose made to tug her hand free, but his hold firmed.

“I’m an ill-mannered brute, but you need not fear me, you know,” he said, smiling. “You may berate me and scold me as much as you please, and I may tease you beyond bearing, but I would not, for the world, do anything to frighten you.”

Rose looked up into eyes that were suddenly far warmer than she had believed. This close to him, she saw they were a deep rich brown, flecked with gold and amber. Her breath hitched, confusion and embarrassment fighting for supremacy as he raised her fingers and touched them to his lips. It was barely a kiss, the merest whisper of his mouth upon her skin, yet Rose trembled in response.

“I look forward to our next battle, my enchanting fair one,” he said softly, then he gifted her with an impertinent wink, and strolled out as if he hadn’t just upended her entire world. It wasn’t until long after he was gone that she realised she hadn’t asked him a single question.

Chapter 3

Marlowe,

It is too bad of you. How do you expect me to hold my head up when my son is such a purse pinch, and I am forced to practise economy? I am the Dowager Lady Marlowe and as such have my consequence to consider. How lowering to be forced to carry on with that old brougham when you can very well afford to buy me a new one and those lovely greys that would look so splendid with it.

―Excerpt of a letter from the Right Hon’ble Edith Bancroft, The Dowager Viscountess Marlowe, to The Right Hon’ble Pagan Bancroft, Viscount Marlowe.

18th December 1849, Connaught Place, London.

Cat dampened a clean cloth with lavender water and wiped Kilbane’s face with it. His breathing was a harsh rasp of sound and, every time he coughed, Cat wanted to cry for the pain it brought him. She did not, however, burying any show of emotion under a shield of ice as her fear that Pippin would not come mounted with each second that ticked by. The doctor’s assertion that she had sentenced her husband to death rang in her ears. Not that she had agreed with any of his treatments. She had seen Pippin bring too many people back from the brink of death with entirely different methods. There was no way she would ever believe the doctor's prescriptions or what Pippin deemed expensive flummery were anything less than butchery and poisoning. But time was passing, Kilbane’s temperature was terrifyingly high, and he was barely coherent, falling increasingly often into delirium.

A soft scratching at the door had Cat getting to her feet and rushing to see who was there, praying it would be Pippin. Not Pippin, but Jefferies stood before her, carrying a small, wrapped parcel. Behind him, a footman was hefting a heavy medicine box that Cat recognised all too well. With a sinking heart, she took the parcel from Jefferies and carried it to the dressing table, using a knife to cut the string and unwrap the brown paper. She gasped as she saw Pippin’s treasured and well-worn book. A grimoire, she called it, and it contained all the vast knowledge she had amassed over her lifetime. With shaking hands, Cat took up the letter that accompanied the book and unfolded it.

My dearest Cat,

Now don’t be vexed with your old Pippin, for you know I would do anything in the world for you, but I’m not feeling quite the thing and I know my old bones well enough to realise I’d be a fool to push my luck with a journey in this horrid weather. That’s not to say I would not come if you truly needed me. The thing is you don’t.

If his lordship is as poorly as you describe, chances are he’s got pneumonia and perhaps pleurisy in the bargain too. Now, you know very well we treated Mrs Whiffin for the same complaint some years ago and after she was near bled to death by that fool doctor, too. Remember all we did for her and follow suit. I’ve sent you my medicine box, and you’ll know what’s in the package is of far more use to you than my sorry old carcass getting under your feet.

You have everything you need, my lamb. You have the skills I have taught you, the knowledge in my book, and your own courage and good sense. Trust in yourself, Catherine, and in that fool husband of yours. He came to you for a reason. Fate is at work here, and you must work with it.

Don’t you fret about your Pa, I shan’t tell him or your Mama, but you mind you do so before he finds out from someone else, or you will be in the basket.

I shall ask the goddess to guide you, my dearest. Blessings upon you and your man.

Your own, Pippin x

“Oh, Pippin,” Cat said in despair, not feeling anything like the courageous and skilful person who Pippin described. “Whatever am I to do?”