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Chapter Twelve

Z eke’s brows shot up. “My. Someone’s been busy.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and regarded the earl across the massive desk. “I'll admit the wedding announcement ought to give James pause. As a newly titled baron of common origin, he’ll think long and hard before pitting himself against us once we’ve gone public.”

The earl nodded and cleared his throat. “Announcements, by the by.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Announcements. Plural. As in the Times , and the Chronicle .”

“How thorough of you,” Zeke said dryly.

“I thought so, too. Eh, Zeke, I’m curious…” His grandfather paused. Picked up a crystal paperweight sitting atop his desktop and examined it. “Did the two of you have a chance to get better acquainted over the last few days?”

Zeke’s mind shot to the moment he’d bounded into her chamber to save her from certain abduction only to find her alone, shrouded in moonlight, hair tumbling down to her waist. Tempting beyond measure.

“Eh, yes. A bit. She’s…no lad.” He drummed his fingers on his thigh.

The earl hooted with laughter. “I’ll say. I still marvel you couldn’t see through her disguise.”

“Yes.” He was getting damned tired of people saying that.

“In any case, I’m counting on your help with a plan I concocted during your absence. A more intimate knowledge of our Kitty will enable you to help me.”

Intimate. The word brought all sorts of ideas to mind. “Oh?”

The earl lowered his voice. “The thing is, I rather hoped, since the two of you aren’t really going to marry—”

“Definitely not,” Zeke interjected, her abject refusal to do so ringing in his mind.

The earl scowled a little at the interruption. “And as she is of an eminently marriageable age…”

“Eminent, eh? How old is she?”

“Two and twenty.”

“I’d say she’s a bit past prime marriageable age.”

The earl stared down the length of his nose at Zeke. “May I finish?”

Zeke waved a hand.

“I thought we might put together a list.”

Zeke blinked at the earl. “I don’t follow. What sort of list?”

“I want to plan a dinner party, or a garden party or weekend party—something, anything so long as the guest roster includes a few eligible bachelors who might suit Kitty.”

“A party. Of eligible bachelors.”

“Precisely. So that when Kitty ends your engagement in a few months…”

“Some other bloke can step in to fill my boots,” Zeke said, his tone flat.

“Just so.”

Annoyance sparked through him. He planted his feet on the carpet and leaned forward. “Supposing I agree to aid your cause, what makes you so sure she’ll attract a suitor?”

His grandfather looked at him as if he’d sprouted antlers, then shook his head.

“You’ve evidently got blinders on when it comes to the girl, which is neither here nor there since you’re not in the running.

Trust me when I say attracting a husband won’t be an issue.

She’s not only beautiful, she’s got a certain indefinable charm most gentlemen will find irresistible.

Add to that a small fortune in dowry, between her inheritance and my offering. ” He left off with a shrug.

Zeke resisted the urge to scowl. “It sounds like you have it all worked out.”

He sent Zeke a crafty smile. “Yes, it does, doesn’t it? All I need from you is—”

“A list. I’ll see what I can do.”

“The sooner the better, please. Oh, and one other thing. Don’t breathe a word of this to Kitty.”

“Why ever not?”

“Because she’ll go all stiff if she thinks she’s on display. Not that she’ll be on display. In actuality, it’s the men who need to impress her. Not that they can know why they’ve been invited.”

Zeke groaned. “This is getting complicated.”

“Nonsense. Just think of us as cupid’s little helpers.” The earl smiled cheerfully. “It’ll be great fun.

"Now on to the next bit of business. In two days time, our solicitor will arrive with the proper documentation to make this thing legal. We need to discuss the terms of the arrangement, get all our ducks in a row, so to speak.”

***

Kitty gave up. She couldn’t concentrate on the local gazette’s article, detailing the goings on in and around town.

Not with the meeting between the earl, Garrick, Zeke, and the earl’s solicitor taking place, and not with the posted ad in the classified section of the Times calling to her like a siren luring sailors to their deaths.

She cast a furtive glance toward the open library doors, and snatched-up the classified section of the Times once more. She opened to the engagement announcements.

The Earl of Claybourne and ninth Baron of Maidstone proudly announce the betrothal of Lord Ezekiel Thurgood, Viscount of Claybourne, to Lady Christine Hastings, daughter to the late Lord Charles Hastings.

If only it were true. The inane thought came without warning. With a self-derisive moan, she covered her eyes with one hand. How ridiculous. If she’d wanted to marry Zeke, she could’ve accepted his offer days ago. His thoroughly unromantic, obviously grudging, offer of marriage.

She’d had to say no. How could she marry a man who not only didn’t love her, but didn’t like her?

Witness his grim face on the carriage ride to Maidstone, his air of detached boredom all the way to Derby. His monosyllabic replies to her efforts to draw him into conversation over breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

She refolded the newspaper. Smoothed her fingers over the crisp, cool sheets. Then, very deliberately, set the newspaper aside.

How much longer?

She had a mental image of the four men huddling over the so-called marriage contract.

The earl hadn’t provided details, but she had the clear impression he’d promised a small fortune to her guardian for his signing on the dotted line. All for a sham engagement. And Zeke thought she wrought trouble when she was a mere servant. Ha.

No wonder he disliked her.

At least he only had to put up with her for five months more and counting. She’d have the final say so over who she married or did not marry then, as well as access to her inheritance.

She hugged a throw pillow to her chest. lounged back on the chaise, and stared unseeing at the high plastered ceiling.

Five months from now their engagement would end and Zeke would sail away. She’d likely never see him again. That’s always how it worked. People made themselves indispensable then left, never to return.

Like her parents, who voyaged the world, exploring and mapping out the far-reaches of the globe for the betterment of mankind.

Like Collin.

She couldn’t go through it again.

Hence, her real reason for rejecting Zeke’s marriage proposal.

Regardless of the spirit in which it had been delivered, the logical move would be for her to leap at the offer, as any other lady would.

Not only because of the family’s wealth and prestige, but simply because of Zeke. Magnificent, maddening, marvelous Zeke.

But she’d had to say no. She might be halfway to falling in love with the man—what sane woman wouldn’t?—but she would never willingly put herself in the position of watching someone she loved sail out of her life again.

She would find someone who wanted a family, and to set down roots. She would, or she’d remain unmarried the rest of her days.

Lady Lillian appeared in the doorway, a cheery smile on her face.

Kitty sprang to her feet, pillow still clutched to her chest.

“Claybourne’s office door is open, and I heard him call for his finest brandy from the cellar. That tells me the deed is done.”

“Garrick must have signed the contract. I only hope Lord Thurgood doesn’t live to regret helping me.”

Kitty hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until she heard Lady Lillian’s reply. “I can think of only one reason he would, my dear.”

Kitty could think of a thousand, but one in particular rankled beyond measure. “If he meets Miss Right while he’s tangled in my web?”

The elderly lady chuckled. “Not at all what I had in mind.”

***

Later that night, Kitty nestled in an oversized armchair in the family parlor, legs bent under her, slippers curled under her skirts. She grinned impishly at the earl, sitting across from her.

He studied the chessboard, its black and white surface aglow in the reflected light from the massive grate nearby. “You needn’t look so smug, my little pussycat. You haven’t beaten me yet,” he said.

“Who me?” she asked, all innocence.

The earl snorted.

She felt the air stir around her. Glancing over her shoulder revealed Zeke leaning over her armchair, arms clasped behind him.

He and his catlike grace. He hadn’t made a sound crossing the large room. Last time she checked, he’d been reclining on a sofa, reading, legs propped on an ottoman, studiously ignoring the two of them.

“Besting you again, old man?”

The earl’s expression turned peevish. “If you think you can do better, you play her.”

“I hate to scare her off.”

“Ha,” she said. “Give me a moment to finish off my first opponent, then you are welcome to try your hand.”

“Challenge accepted.”

Butterflies erupted in Kitty's belly.

Zeke had never expressed an interest in spending time with her alone. Not that they'd be alone, but she'd have his undivided attention, at least for the length of the chess game.

It was all she could do to keep her mind on the game at hand.

Minutes later, the earl pushed himself out of his chair. “All yours, Zeke. My turn to be the heckling spectator. Just let me stretch my legs a bit.”

Zeke took his seat while Kitty reset the board.

He won their first game. “Care to try again?” he asked, flashing his cocksure smile.

She shook her head. “Another time. Perhaps the earl would like…” Her words died in her throat as she glanced around the room.

The earl had slipped out without a word, leaving she and Zeke alone.

She glanced at him, only then noticing how the fire had dimmed to a low burning glow, giving the large room an intimate feel. Her stomach fluttered and she found it hard to draw an even breath. She ought to excuse herself this instant.