Page 71 of The Thorn and the Rose

He raked a hand through his hair, muttering a curse under his breath. “Very well, but I swear, Rosemarie, if you don’t do exactly as I say, if you come away with so much as a scratch…”

She smiled at him serenely and squeezed his fingers. “I trust you to look after me. Both of you. Everything will be fine.”

“Won’t he suspect a trap?” Pip asked critically.

Rosemarie gave a short, bitter laugh. “Perhaps, but I doubt it. Everett has no imagination, and I don’t believe it would occur to him I might set a trap for him, even after everything he’s done. I expect he’ll think I’ll come and throw the money at him and run, hoping he’ll leave me be.”

“Let’s hope so. It will make things easier,” Thorn said, though he found it hard to believe the man could be that stupid.

“No one else knows about Rosemarie, do they?” Cat said. “Save Leo and Ash, so if you act just as you always do and we keep her out of sight, there is no reason for any scandal to attach to her. You could take her to Harriet the day before and then no one will know anything about it, even if her wretched brother were to make a scene. It would be far easier before she has been presented to society. Then it just needs you and Pip and the others to spirit him away to gaol, and the job is done.”

“As easy as that,” Thorn grumbled unhappily.

Cat shrugged. “Nothing worth doing is easy, brother dear,” she retorted, her lips quirking into a wry smile.

“You don’t seriously think Kilbane will show himself at Harriet’s ball?” asked Pip uneasily.

“I have no reason to suppose so,” she replied, her expression bland. “But you never know.”

Thorn and Pip exchanged glances, and Thorn shook his head, deeply unhappy for too many reasons to count, but hoping, at the very least, that they could deal with Rosemarie’s brother once and for all. Then they could get married at last.

As for his sister and Kilbane, he wished her luck, but that was her own affair.

9th January 1850, The Countess St Clair’s New Year’s Ball, St James’s, London.

“Thank you,” Cat said, accepting the glass of champagne Thorn offered her.

“And so you should thank me. I barely escaped with my life,” he remarked, taking a moment to arrange his waistcoat and smooth his lapels.

He was trying his damndest to act as normal, but knowing Rosemarie was upstairs in one of Harriet’s guest bedrooms, awaiting the hour her brother had set for their meeting, was making him nervous as hell.

“Harriet’s affairs are always a crush,” Cat replied with a sigh. Her eyes were on stalks, watching the crowd and she kept lifting up on her toes to look over their heads.

Thorn shook his head, hoping to God she wasn’t riding for a fall. “You think Kilbane’s going to come,” he said flatly.

“Perhaps,” she admitted.

Thomas sighed, muttering a curse under his breath, and Cat reached out, laying a hand on his sleeve. “Please, Thomas. You promised me you would be civil, for my sake.”

“Yes, possibly. In some distant future, when the bastard had been a model husband for a decade,” he said darkly.

“Keep your voice down,” she scolded him. “Please, Thorn. I’m not a fool.”

Thomas folded his arms. “You are where he is concerned.”

“Thomas, please?”

He rolled his eyes heavenward and gave a sigh. “Fine. I’ll be civil and I won’t cause a scene, but if our father makes it tonight and he’s here—”

“I’ll face that when it arises,” she said faintly.

Thomas’ lips quirked into a smile, for Cat was redoubtable. If she could get through tonight, he could bloody well do the same. “You always do. Damn me if you’re not the bravest of us all.”

Cat grinned at him and reached up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Best of brothers,” she said with approval.

“You’d say the exact same thing to Pip,” he reproached her.

“Indeed I would, for you are both the best brothers a girl could have.”