Page 11

Chapter Six

K itty and the earl glanced up as the French doors leading to the courtyard opened. The hour for callers had long-since passed. Still, she expected to see Smethwick’s shiny head. Instead Zeke emerged, all vital and golden. Her chest ached at the sight of him.

Spotting the earl, he grinned, raised a hand in greeting and started on the path toward them.

She shot a nervous glance at the earl. Her hands gripped the cold wrought iron slat of the bench and squeezed till the metal bit into her palms.

As if reading her disquiet, the earl gave her an encouraging nod.

“Good evening, grandfather. Kit,” Zeke said in a friendly tone.

He stood before them, hands splayed on his hips. Lamplight from the courtyard torches spilled over his handsome face. Were her eyes playing tricks, or was Lord Zeke Thurgood smiling?

“Zeke, this is a pleasant surprise,” the earl said.

“I hoped you’d feel that way.”

His eyes no longer burned with rage. A promising start. She pushed to her feet, conscious of the crunch of gravel beneath her boots. Conscious of her too-shallow breath.

He didn’t move a muscle as she stared up into his eyes, twin pools of swirling blue smoke in the lamplight.

Everything inside her clenched. “My lord, I’m very sorry for overhearing—”

“Overhearing?” He arched one tawny brow.

Her shoulders sagged, and her gaze dropped to her boots. He was right. She’d hung on his every word.

She took a bracing breath, and, once again, raised her eyes to meet his. “I purposely eavesdropped on your conversation which was absolutely none of my affair. I beg your forgiveness, but understand if you can’t bring yourself to give it to me.”

“Kit, thank you for your heartfelt apology. Apology accepted.”

She blinked up at him.

And then he smiled. At her. Her heart nearly stopped.

How many times had she fantasized about seeing one of Zeke’s smiles aimed at her? She needn’t have bothered. Real life was so much better.

A moment later, he sidestepped her. “What do you say to a game of gin, my lord? Kit can even join in if you like.”

Kitty whipped around to catch the earl’s eyes. As much as a part of her yearned to remain in Zeke’s presence, her rational side told her not to push her luck.

The earl winked, and nodded once in the direction of the manse.

She flashed a grateful smile and dashed inside. Half in a daze, she passed through parlor and down the marble hall toward the front stairs. She’d thought nothing could be better than seeing Lord Thurgood half naked this afternoon. She’d been wrong.

That smile. To him, it’d meant nothing more than a kind gesture to an irritating boy. But to her—she could live off it for a week.

With a long sigh she started up the stairs, her hand skimming the cool, silver balustrade. For just a moment, she imagined an alternate reality.

She saw Zeke calling to her from the bottom of the stairs. “Kitty, I’ve only been acting. I discovered your secret from the start. Your face is too beautiful to belong to a boy. Come back down here and kiss me.”

A fierce pounding on the front door tore her from her fantasy, and she nearly tripped on the landing. She peered downstairs.

Smethwick hustled toward the front door, an intimidating scowl on his face. Everyone knew no one of consequence called at this late hour.

The butler opened the massive door. He accepted a calling card. Studied it. His scowl softened. “Come in, my lord. If you’ll kindly wait in the foyer? I’ll inform the earl of your presence.”

The man crossed the threshold. He removed his hat and handed it to Smethwick, revealing close-cropped brown hair, a pale face set with gritty determination and a bit of the street.

A man she knew all too well.

She skittered round the bend, pressing herself into the paneled wall lest her legs give out. She gulped at the air, unable to take an even breath. Garrick? Here? How?

An eternity later, Smethwick returned. “The earl will see you now. Right this way, my lord.”

Garrick’s receding boot steps announced his determined march down the hall.

After a long moment, she garnered all the strength she could muster. On rubbery legs, she started down the stairs.

***

“Forgive me if my request seems bold or over-reaching, my lords. But my dear cousin has been missing for some time, and our earlier conversation, Lord Thurgood, fostered a hope in me I can’t dispel.”

Kitty hovered outside the earl’s den. Though she’d missed the start of the conversation, she had no doubt James had discovered her presence in the household. Someone had seen her. Someone had talked.

“You refer to my private conversation with Lord Randall this afternoon?” Zeke asked.

Zeke? How could he reveal anything when he knew nothing himself?

Despair swamped her. Why bother with the hows or whys? Soon she would be in her cousin’s clutches.

“Lord James, take your accusations and leave Claybourne Manor at once,” the earl commanded in a stony voice.

A tiny ray of hope ignited within her.

“Lord Claybourne, I’m afraid I can’t do that—unless you don’t mind being visited shortly by a member of the Yard.”

“You dare threaten the Earl of Claybourne?” Zeke demanded.

“Not at all, Lord Thurgood. Simply asking for a show of courtesy amongst peers. Produce the servant known as Kit, and I will apologize duly if he is, as you say, the earl’s tiger.”

“Fetch the magistrate or anyone else you damn well please, Lord James,” the earl fired back.

Kitty swallowed a sob. She knew something the earl didn’t. Garrick would make good on his threat. She couldn’t allow scandal to tarnish Lord Claybourne’s reputation, not after everything he’d done for her. She took a bracing breath, and crossed the threshold.

“No, Kit,” the earl bemoaned from his stance behind his grand desk

Not two feet from her, Garrick stood, legs braced for combat as he faced down the earl. When his gaze lit on her, a feverish gleam shown in his obsidian eyes. “Well, well.”

Zeke, to her left, wore a baffled expression as his glance ricocheted from Kitty to Garrick to the earl. “Will someone kindly tell me what the hell is going on here?”

The earl gestured for Kitty to join him.

She bit her bottom lip and took a hesitant step.

“Stay right where you are.” Garrick aimed one pointed finger at her.

She halted, uncontrollable tremors wracking her frame.

As if he could hold her captive by will, his finger remained in place, though he aimed his words at the earl.

“Tut, tut, my lord. I must say I am very disappointed by your prevarication. Although I can only imagine what lies my cousin fed you.” His gaze slid over her.

“What sordid tales she used to draw you into her tangled web of deceit.”

Zeke frowned at the earl. “Claybourne? Her web?”

The earl’s ashen complexion worried Kitty. She forced a wobbly smile, trying to project an air of calm she was far from feeling. “It’s all right, my lord.”

The jig was up, so she'd spoken in her regular, feminine voice, and Zeke’s head snapped in her direction.

Without warning he stalked toward her, snatching off her wig in one swipe.

She winced in humiliation more than pain as hairpins scattered on the thick Aubusson carpet. Black coils of hair tumbled around her face and shoulders.

Her face—her entire body—burned. She must look a damned sight. The bulk of her hair, she could only assume, remained ruthlessly attached to the crown of her head.

As if compelled, she met Lord Thurgood’s smoky blue stare.

“My God,” he whispered, incredulous.

His shoulders shook in what appeared to be a humorless chuckle. Finally he looked away from her, rubbing his stubble-covered jaw as he moved to stand closer to the earl.

“Explains the lavender,” she thought she heard him mutter, as if answering his own private riddle.

“I’m ever so relieved you didn’t cut off your reigning glory, my dear.”

She jumped at the sound of Garrick’s voice in her ear. She hadn’t realized he’d closed in on her.

His dark eyes gleamed with triumph. He raised his hand as if intending to slide his fingers over her head.

She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for his touch.

“Just one moment.” The earl’s voice sliced the air.

She opened her eyes in time to see Garrick’s arm fall to his side.

“Aren’t you curious as to Lady Hasting’s welfare these past months, James?” A crafty smile curved his mouth.

She’d seen that smile before, right before he made a particularly clever chess move.

“Of course.” Garrick drew himself to his full height—which still left him a head shorter than Zeke or the earl.

“She has, of course, resided under this roof for months—no chaperone to speak of,” Lord Claybourne said.

Garrick frowned. “Are you suggesting some sort of impropriety on your part?”

“Yes, Lord Claybourne, what are you suggesting?” Zeke eyed the earl, arms crossed over his chest.

“I am more than suggesting,” the earl said, his eyes locked on Garrick.

Garrick spewed out a hyena’s laugh. “You wish me to believe my cousin and you, the late baron’s so-called closest friend, engaged in an illicit affair? Next you’ll tell me you’re engaged to marry the chit.”

“No.”

Garrick’s shoulders seemed to relax, for all his randy bluster.

“She is, however, betrothed.” The earl sent Garrick a feral smile. “To my grandson, Lord Thurgood.”

Kitty’s mouth hung open. She closed it with a snap. Had the earl gone mad? Claiming she and Zeke were betrothed? Garrick would see right through the hastily devised ruse.

As for Zeke—she slid a sidelong glance his way and felt her heart crack a little. His rigid jaw and smoldering eyes confirmed what she already knew. He practically despised her.

His almost certain unwillingness to play the hero in her personal tragedy had nothing to do with the tears stinging the backs of her eyes, or the monstrous lump in her throat. Nothing whatsoever.

“Impossible,” Garrick sputtered. “Lord Thurgood’s surprise at Kitty’s sex couldn’t be more evident,” he blurted in the crudest of statements. “How do you explain that?”