Seduction of a Proper Gentleman (Last Man Standing) Read online

  “I should think, as you have finally come to your senses regarding the cu—”

  “Don’t say it,” Kathleen said quickly. It was one thing to accept something you had never believed in and quite another it say it aloud as if its veracity was not in doubt. In that and that alone she acknowledged a certain amount of superstition on her part. Indeed, while she had not admitted it to her family (such an admission being an acknowledgement that they were right and she was wrong) she had come to believe with the fervency of a drunkard renouncing spirits or a heathen come to God. “And you’re right. I can use any and all help available and it was impolite of me to refuse you.”

  “Then you’ll allow me to—”

  “No, but should it be necessary, I will reserve your offer for a later time.” Acceptance of forces beyond reason and control was one thing, belief in her aunt’s as yet unproven ability to influence the world through magical means quite another. “For now, however, I am open to any advice you might have for a plan.”

  “I’ll accept that.” Hannah beamed at the younger woman. “Although I know what a stickler you are for annoying things like honesty and a forthright manner and a direct approach. Few of my plans have ever included honesty. Indeed, it seems contrary to the very nature of plans.”

  Kathleen laughed in spite of herself. “This is perfect for you then, as I suspect a forthright, honest approach will not work at all with an arrogant British lord.”

  “They’re all arrogant, dear.” Hannah patted her niece’s knee. “Is he arrogant then?”

  “He thought I was a beggar.”

  “The nerve of the man.” Hannah chuckled. “I can’t imagine how he might have thought that.”

  “I can’t imagine how he would have thought otherwise,” Kathleen muttered. How could she have been so stupid as to so much as consider approaching him outside his club? Especially wearing that blasted cloak. As plans went, this was not well thought out. Not that it was a true plan but she would certainly have to do better. No, this encounter was an impulse on her part and not a particularly clever one at that.

  Hannah’s tone was casual. “Do you think he will recognize you? When next you meet?”

  Kathleen shook her head. “Between the hood and the shadows, he didn’t see my face.”

  “Well that’s something to be grateful for.” Hannah shook her head. “Surprise is always an excellent element of any successful plan.”

  “I did however see his face.” She glanced at the older woman. “He was significantly more attractive than I had expected.”

  “More than merely acceptable?”

  Kathleen surrendered. “Yes, Aunt Hannah, definitely more than merely acceptable.”

  “Then this wasn’t a complete waste of time.” Hannah leaned toward her in a confidential fashion. “We’ve no time to waste you know.”

  “I’m well aware of that. And I did manage to learn quite a bit about the man.”

  “And what, pray tell, did you learn other than he is possessed of the arrogance that is the birth-right of nearly every titled gentleman and that he is a fine figure of a man?”

  Kathleen glanced at the other woman. “I didn’t say he was a fine figure of a man.”

  “I have eyes too, you know, and, in my opinion, he is a fine figure of a man,” Hannah said in a lofty manner. “And I have always been an excellent judge of flesh be it horse or man.”

  “I quite agree and I suspect he is a good man as well.”

  “I thought he was arrogant.”

  “I daresay a man can be both.” Kathleen thought for a moment. “In spite of the arrogance of his attitude, even in this brief encounter, he has shown himself to be kind to strangers and generous to those less fortunate.”

  “My, this was a fruitful evening then.” Hannah paused. “Does this alleviate your doubts, Kathleen?”

  “Not entirely but it is a relief to learn the gentleman has a good heart and a generous nature.” Kathleen turned her gaze back to the window and smiled wryly to herself.

  In spite of the circumstances, it was indeed a good thing to know about the man you intended to marry.

  Kathleen sat at the desk in the well-appointed parlor in the suite of rooms she and Hannah occupied in the Claridge Hotel and paged through the document before her. They had been in London a mere two days, but already she had been through the dossier that had been delivered upon her arrival a dozen times or more. The investigator her grandmother had hired through her Glasgow solicitor had been exceptionally thorough. All the details of the life of the Earl of Norcroft were precisely arrayed on these pages and painted an interesting picture.

  The information compiled ranged from the ordinary: the location and date of his birth—he was a mere two years older than she—to financial circumstances—aside from a questionable investment in railroads in America, his fortune was considerable and stable—to what might be considered gossip but was nonetheless most illuminating. It seemed the Earl of Norcroft and three of his friends had had an odd wager, the winner of which was to be the last man left unwed. Apparently, against all odds and contrary to conventional wisdom in society, his lordship had won. The smart money had been on him being the first to fall as, according to the report, he alone among the group was not considered to be particularly averse to marriage. Although Kathleen wasn’t sure exactly what the victory said about the man, she found it most interesting.

  The earl’s given name was Oliver, his family name Leighton. His father had died when he was but a boy, leaving him the twelfth Earl of Norcroft. His mother was active in any number of charities and considered an accomplished hostess. In the last year alone she had shepherded three nieces through their first season and had hosted two weddings, both for yet another niece, the circumstances of this the investigator was unable to explain. She had also organized what appeared to be a quickly arranged, but successful, masquerade for charity just last month.

  Norcroft had been an adequate but not exceptional student. His lordship was obviously no scholar. Rather a pity as Kathleen had always been fond of debate of an intellectual nature, especially as it pertained to the culture of the ancient Romans. Indeed, study of Roman civilization had long been a quiet passion of hers and she considered herself quite well versed on most aspects of ancient Roman life in the British isles. Apparently, intellectual pursuits were not something they had in common. Not that it mattered.

  She sighed and pushed the file away then rested her head on the back of her chair and closed her eyes. Seeing him in person today had been surprisingly unsettling.

  “Well?” Hannah’s brisk tone sounded from across the room. “Have you come up with something?”

  “I can’t think of a thing. How does one go about convincing a total stranger to marry you?”

  “I haven’t the vaguest idea. I have never had to entice a man into marriage nor have I ever wished to.” She paused. “Perhaps then it is time for,” Hannah could barely choke out the words, “a forthright, direct approach.”

  Kathleen answered without opening her eyes. “I can see it now. Presenting myself at his door—”

  “Presenting yourself to his mother,” Hannah corrected. “Armed, I might add, with a letter of introduction from my mother, a countess of no little stature.”

  “In Scotland perhaps,” Kathleen murmured.

  She heard Hannah settle on the sofa. “I wouldn’t let her hear you say that. I daresay my mother considers herself a force to be reckoned with throughout the empire which might well be more in her own mind than anyone else’s.” She chuckled. “And I wouldn’t let her hear me say that either.”

  Regardless of their comments, the Countess of Dumleavy did indeed have the presence and power that went hand in hand with great wealth and equally great heritage. The only complaint Kathleen had with the woman who had raised her was her staunch belief in nonsense like magic and superstition and, God help them all, curses.

  “As I was saying, I present myself at his door and announce that I have come to Lo
ndon with the express purpose of marrying him in order to break a curse that has been on the heads of both our families for five hundred years and is now about to destroy us all.” Kathleen raised her head and opened her eyes. “Yes, that should do it. I can’t imagine Norcroft won’t immediately agree to marriage to break a curse he might not be aware of or, if he does know of it, more than likely does not believe in it, to a woman he’s never even seen before.”

  “He did see you,” Hannah said under her breath.

  “And thought I was a beggar.” Kathleen shook her head. “Not an auspicious beginning.”

  “Nonsense, there are any number of quite happy couples who have had an even worse introduction than yours.” Hannah paused. “Although admittedly I can’t think of one at the moment.”

  “You’re not helping, Aunt Hannah.” Kathleen rubbed the spot between her eyebrows that had throbbed on and off ever since she had agreed to marry Lord Norcroft. She was fairly certain the recurring headache was the direct result of at long last surrendering to and indeed embracing the idea that there might be some validity to the curse, which she had always thought of as absurd. Still, it had become harder and harder in recent years to deny at least the possibility of its existence. There seemed no other explanation for the unpleasant turns life had taken.

  Kathleen couldn’t recall even hearing of the curse until after her husband, Kenneth, had died in a freak accident nearly nine years ago. Her grandmother had not been opposed to the marriage. After all, Kenneth was of good family and sound fortune and an excellent match. Besides, Kathleen had loved him, which her grandmother had later said was precisely why she had held her tongue. It wasn’t until after Kenneth’s death that Grandmother had at last told her the rather vague story of how, long ago, two feuding border families, one Scottish, one English, were to be joined in marriage to end the bloodshed. For whatever reason, the marriage did not occur and an old woman who had lost most of her family to the violence had cursed both families. They had—according to the story that Kathleen viewed as more legend than fact—five hundred years for the families to join in marriage or both lines would end and terrible, dreadful things would happen. When pressed, Grandmother was never explicit about just what kind of terrible, dreadful things—steadfastly maintaining that the specifics were lost in the mists of time—only that they would be very, very bad. Even the five-hundred-year deadline was not certain, only that it would be reached sometime in the autumn in the year of our Lord 1854, before the autumnal equinox.

  And wasn’t life proving her point? Weren’t things getting progressively worse for nearly all of Kathleen’s relations as they grew closer to the end of the five hundred years?

  Grandmother pointed to the fact that of her three children, Kathleen’s mother Glynnis, Hannah and her twin brother Malcomb, only Glynnis had had any children whatsoever and had died long before she should have. Hannah’s marriage had been childless and tragically short as well. And, in spite of the fact that Malcomb was a hale and hearty sort and had been wed for thirteen years to a woman who had appeared healthy and sound as well, until her death nearly a decade ago, he too was childless. Grandmother had staunchly attributed that to the curse, especially since, as Malcomb was exceptionally fond of the ladies, there were no bastard grandchildren running about. Nor had Kathleen’s year-long marriage resulted in children, which left Kathleen as the last descendent of the original ill-fated groom and the only one remaining who could end the curse. Grandmother claimed the lack of offspring to carry on the family heritage plus the untimely demises of Kathleen’s parents and husband, as well as Hannah’s husband, were all due to the curse, and it could no longer be ignored.

  Still, when Grandmother had first spoken of the curse, nearly a year after Kenneth’s death, Kathleen had demanded to know why she hadn’t been told sooner. After all, her poor husband should have been made aware of the risk he was taking by marrying her. If this was indeed real, why hadn’t Kathleen been warned?

  Hope, grandmother had said firmly, and love. Hope that the curse was, in fact, more legend than truth. She had admitted she had long thought it nothing more than a story herself until circumstances convinced her otherwise. She had hoped as well that, regardless of Kathleen’s position as the last of her line, the love she’d shared with her husband would prove more powerful than the faded magic of a centuries-old animosity.

  Now, Grandmother was as firm a believer in the curse as she was in anything else of a mystic nature. While it had taken Kathleen a number of years to move from utter disbelief to reluctant acceptance, she now believed with a passion that rivaled her grandmother’s, even if said belief was in opposition to the type of sane, sensible person she had always thought herself to be.

  “For good or ill,” Kathleen murmured, absently rubbing the place on her finger where her wedding ring had once been. It seemed if one was about to save one’s family through marriage, one should leave the past behind.

  “Did you say something?”

  “No, nothing at all.” She rested her elbow on the desk and propped her head in her hand. “I should have thought of a plan before we left home but there didn’t seem to be any time.”

  “Of course not.” Hannah snorted. “The very moment you agreed to pursue Norcroft, my mother was ready to send you off to London. You’re lucky she allowed you time to pack a bag.”

  “She was probably afraid I’d change my mind.”

  “And with good reason.” Hannah studied her niece. “You don’t really believe in all this, do you?”

  “I certainly didn’t at first. Now…”

  “Now?”

  “Now…” Kathleen shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure what I believe but whether it’s the result of years of listening to grandmother or the events surrounding us all, I am afraid not to believe. And not to want to do something about it. And I suppose there are worse things to do with your life than marry a handsome, wealthy British lord.” She met her aunt’s gaze. “What of you? You have always believed in magic and superstition and the like. Do you believe we are cursed?”

  “Cursed has such an unpleasant sound but I much prefer it to fate or destiny. At least a curse implies there might be something to be done about it. That it is not inevitable. As for belief…” Hannah drew a deep breath. “I believe that I once found the love of my life and lost him entirely too soon. I believe my sister and her husband should not have died so very young. I believe the loss of your husband was unfairly premature. I believe that there is no rational reason for the lack of offspring in our family. Nor do I believe there is any rational reason why any man you have shown even a smattering of interest in through the past nine years has met with, for lack of a better phrase, ill luck.”

  “I do feel badly about that,” Kathleen said under her breath. The fates of each and every one of her occasional suitors had, more than anything else, helped to convince her of the reality of the curse.

  Hannah leaned toward Kathleen. “I believe as well in a just and righteous creator who would not inflict a single family with all this of his own accord. Therefore, to me, the only logical answer is this long-ago curse.”

  Kathleen stared. “There’s nothing logical about it.”

  “Perhaps.” Hannah shrugged. “But it is an answer, an explanation of sorts.” She smiled wryly. “And sometimes even an absurd answer is better than no answer at all.” Her smile widened to a wicked grin. “And I, for one, am willing to sacrifice you on the altar of matrimony to break this curse or change our family’s luck or accept fate or whatever one wishes to call it. Now then, Kate.”

  Kathleen raised a brow. Kate had been a childhood name that she had quite grown out of and no longer especially liked. Kenneth was the only one who had ever dared call her Kate and he did so mostly because he knew it drove her mad. Still, it had become a term of endearment and a private joke between them.

  “My apologies. Sometimes I forget that you have grown beyond Kate. As I was saying.” Her tone turned brisk. “What do you propose w
e do next?”

  “I’m not sure there’s anything we can do at the moment.” Kathleen gathered the papers scattered over the desk. “Apparently our quarry is leaving for his estate in the country tomorrow.”

  “Excellent.”

  Kathleen frowned. “It’s not the least bit excellent although I suppose it gives us some time to decide what our next step should be.”

  “Our next step should be to go to the country ourselves.”

  “Follow him?” Kathleen shook her head. “I did not wish to follow him tonight and I have no intention—”

  “Kathleen,” Hannah said with a sigh. “You haven’t been the least bit amusing ever since you agreed to marry Norcroft. You’re entirely too serious and grim and—”

  “It’s a grim and serious matter.” Kathleen glared. “You may be willing to sacrifice me, my life and my future but as much as I have come to accept this as being inevitable, I remain both reluctant and uneasy.”

  “Precisely why you need a…a holiday. Yes, that’s it.” Hannah beamed. “In the country I should think.”

  “Near Norcroft’s estate?”

  “I believe it may be on the way but that’s not our destination.”

  Kathleen narrowed her eyes. “Then what is our destination?”

  “We, or I should say I but you are most welcome of course, have been invited to join a dear old friend of mine at his estate. Every year at this time he gathers together the most amusing guests for a house party, although that seems a somewhat insufficient term for it as it goes on for a month or more. Guests stay for a few days or a few weeks. They leave, others arrive. We have all known each other for decades now but I haven’t been able to attend for years.” A wistful look drifted across the older woman’s face. “One never knows who one might meet or what old friendships might be renewed.” Perhaps wicked was more accurate than wistful. “Regardless, it’s always memorable and a great deal of fun.”

  Kathleen studied her aunt, the truth at once becoming clear to her. “You didn’t agree to accompany me to England because it might be an adventure. You wanted to come because of this party.”