Chapter Thirty-Two

A few hours later, after Kat had warmed up with a hot bath and dressed in new clothes, she stood staring into the dressing table mirror and narrowed her eyes. She truly was a woman of the world now after having been with Marcus a third time.

Hmm… She looked exactly the same. Perhaps there was more of a sparkle in her eyes, but that was more likely lingering anger over his earlier edict, than truly appearing any worldlier than when she’d last looked at her reflection this morning.

Rather disappointing actually.

Oh well. She shrugged to herself. There were a great deal more important things to do tonight than to dwell on whether or not one could tell she’d been thoroughly ravished for the third time in as many days.

A gentle flush crept up her cheeks at the thought of seeing Marcus again. How was she to maintain a calm composure and look him in the eyes in the clear light of day after what they’d done that afternoon? Every time she even thought about it, which was nearly every second since his terse goodbye as they’d parted ways upon returning to the stables, she felt the weirdest sensation tingle through her.

The rapture and pleasure she’d experienced from his touch, his kiss, his being inside her again, had been even more marvelous than she could have imagined possible. And then he’d gone and ruined it with his talk of marriage. The blasted man.

Sucking in a deep breath, she turned away from her own reflection. There was time enough to be annoyed with him later, for now she had to return her attention to the matters at hand. Hurrying over to her trunk, she opened up the secret compartment and pulled out her dagger roll, then spread it out onto the bed.

She raised her right leg onto the foot stool, swept up the skirt of her gown, and placed one of the smaller daggers in the sheath already strapped at her ankle, underneath her trousers. She lowered her foot before selecting another knife, and then slid it into a portable sheath tucked into one of her skirt’s hidden pockets.

Straightening, she smoothed down her gown and gave a nod of satisfaction. That would do nicely. She rolled up her dagger roll and deftly tied the ribbon to secure it, before returning it to her trunk. But then she stopped. She wasn’t alone.

“I hope you don’t intend to threaten me with your daggers again,” a deep voice rumbled from behind.

Kat stilled and took in a deep breath before turning to see Nathaniel lounging against the back of the bedchamber door. He was dressed in footman livery, wearing a wig, along with some face padding that fleshed out his cheeks. “Your disguise won’t be enough to fool Marcus if he sees you.”

“I know. I had to be careful coming here.” He straightened from the door and walked a few steps toward her.

“What are you doing here?” Kat searched his face.

“I’ve heard the Chameleon may attempt to get Newtown this weekend.”

Kat walked over to him and before he could blink, she simultaneously pushed him back against the wall, while pulling out her dagger and pressing the blade up to his throat. “I know about Irena, and how you think Victor is responsible for her death. Did you pay the Chameleon to kill Victor?” Part of her was terrified of his answer, knowing that if he had done so, she was going to be faced with an impossible decision.

Slowly, a sad half smile crossed his face. “Would you kill me if I did?”

Her whole chest tightened. “Did you?”

“No. Though I thought about killing him several times while I was lying in that hospital bed.” He took in a deep breath. “For the longest time, I blamed him for setting the bomb that killed Irena.”

“Victor would never have done that. He would never have killed an innocent.”

“He would have always done what he had to if it served the greater good.”

“No, he wouldn’t. Victor was ruthless, but he had limits.” Kat knew that to the bottom of her soul.

“You’ve always been blind when it comes to your uncle’s virtues,” Nathaniel said.

“Perhaps. And perhaps I’ve been blinded by others around me. You, for example.” She pressed her knife closer to his skin, nicking the flesh a little. “Somewhat of a coincidence, isn’t it, that the Chameleon has been paid to kill men who all had something to do with your downfall, and then you show up, arisen from the dead?”

Nathaniel pressed his lips together. “I’m back because I heard whispers that the man who set me up had hired the Chameleon to clean up shop. And, yes, some on the list do deserve to die.”

With a scoff that couldn’t hide her disgust, she lowered her dagger and stepped back from him. “Are you the Chameleon, Nathaniel?” Nothing would surprise her at the moment. After all, the Chameleon was rumored to be a ghost, and here Nathaniel was, back from the dead.

“No. The Chameleon is someone I’m probably going to have to kill.” There was such simplicity in his statement and Kat reluctantly believed him.

“You’ll have to get in line, because that’s what I’ll be doing.” She re-sheathed her dagger. “Why do you want him dead?”

“The Chameleon was working as a Russian agent and helped the true traitor frame me. Actually, I think it was probably the Chameleon’s idea to do so to get me away from Irena, who the Chameleon loved. Which is why I want both the Chameleon and the traitor to suffer for what they did. I want to destroy them both as they destroyed me. And I have a feeling the traitor is someone at the top of the War Office.”

“Surely not. Sir William and Sir Albert are as true to Britain as I’ve ever seen.” She’d seen them both in action now, and they didn’t strike her as willing to sell secrets to the Russians. Though, one never fully knew a person, she knew that. “And Danbury is simply too stupid to concoct such a plan.”

“You’re probably right about Danbury, but I think you’re seeing Sir Albert and Sir William too kindly, for both have made ruthless decisions in the past.” Nathaniel dragged a hand through his hair, reminding her so much of Marcus for a moment that she had to look away. Even thinking of him, she felt guilty knowing she was talking to his brother and he had no idea. Keeping such information from him did not sit well at all.

“Sir William was the one to believe Burton when he presented the supposed evidence to him of my guilt,” Nathaniel continued. “And Sir William isn’t one you can pull the wool over his eyes. Perhaps he is the true traitor?”

Everything inside her rebelled at the thought. “No. I’ve worked with Sir William. He was one of Victor’s closest friends and a true patriot. He wouldn’t betray England. He wouldn’t have laid the blame at your feet.”

“A man will do almost anything to protect himself, Kat.” There was sorrow in his eyes. “You know that. Not to mention if Danbury and Sir Albert are killed, he’ll be in charge of the whole War Office. Such power in the hands of a man with such a network of intelligence operatives behind him… He’d be unstoppable.”

A knock at the door startled them both. “One moment,” she called out, as she grabbed Nathaniel and pulled him over to her window. “You must let no one see you, at least not until you tell Marcus you’re alive first.” She opened the window and motioned to the tree branch. “Shimmy down that and go find Marcus and tell him you’re alive. The three of us can work this all out.”

He stood stubbornly in front of the window, making no move to leave. “I can’t tell him, Kat. I won’t, not until I can exonerate myself.”

“He doesn’t believe you’re a traitor,” she whispered harshly to him. “And if you don’t tell him, I will.”

“Just give me a day or two, all right?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m hoping that’s all I’ll need to catch the traitor. I’m very close.”

The knock sounded again.

“My lady? Is something wrong?” It was her maid Bess yelling through the wood.

“Just another moment!” She glanced back at Nathaniel. “Two days and that’s all. Now go.”

He nodded, then turned and began shimmying down the branch.

She closed the window and snapped her curtains shut before hurrying over to open the door. “Yes, Bess, what is it?” She hoped the smile on her face at least looked somewhat real, when inside she felt as if she were knotted up.

“Miss Merriweather has a headache and has decided not to attend the ball, my lady,” Bess said, stepping into the room. “She said to go down without her.”

“Okay, thank you, Bess.” But instead of leaving, the girl still stood there, peering at her rather oddly. “Was there something else?”

“It’s just, my lady, I heard the most ridiculous rumor belowstairs.”

“What did you hear?”

“That you’re engaged, my lady, to the Earl of Westwood.”

A few minutes later, with thoughts of killing Marcus firmly in her mind, Kat marched downstairs to the ballroom and through the gathered guests.

“Clearly, my chaperone skills need work,” the Dragon Duchess’s precise tones enunciated to Kat’s left, “if you’ve gone and gotten yourself engaged in the space of an afternoon ride in the woods.”

The woman tapped her cane on the marble floor in a militant fashion as Kat swiveled around to face her. The duchess appeared decidedly unimpressed, with a haughty brow raised and her lips pursed in a thin line, but there was also a hint of curiosity, with perhaps even amusement, buried in the woman’s gaze. “You’ve heard wrong, Duchess. I’m not engaged.”

“Hmph.” The duchess shrugged. “That is not what I am hearing, but we shall see, I suppose. Now, where is that girl, Miss Merriweather?” She peered over Kat’s shoulder into the throng of the crowd.

“Apparently, she has a headache and has decided to stay abed.”

“A headache?” Her voice bristled. “That simply will not do, for I intended for her and Cantfield to entertain me.”

“Entertain you? All they do is bicker with each other.” Perhaps that was the amusement the duchess was referring to? The woman did, after all, have an unusual sense of humor.

“For someone so observant with nearly everything in your surrounds, you are blind when it comes to emotions, my dear girl.” The duchess shook her head and sighed. “They bicker as they are attracted to each other. Like I mentioned earlier.”

“Etta can’t stand rakes such as Cantfield. She’s not attracted to him, she hates him.”

“Care to make a wager on that?” the old lady asked, a hint of challenge in her eyes. “You see I’m getting rather good at assisting couples of late.”

“I knew you were trying to play matchmaker.” The very idea that the Dragon Duchess was trying her hand at assisting couples to find love was as confusing to Kat as it was amusing.

“I’ve done extremely well at it lately.” The duchess smiled smugly. “Just look at my darling niece, Livie. She and Colver have turned out to be a perfect match. In any event, I shall go and check on Miss Merriweather, that is if you can keep out of trouble for a little bit?”

“I think I can manage it.” Kat smiled back at the woman, making certain the sarcasm was clear in her voice.

The duchess merely raised an eyebrow. “Well, you supposedly got engaged when I left you alone for a few hours today. Who’s to say when I return in ten minutes you won’t be married? Or, knowing you, more likely arrested for killing the earl for daring to spread such a tale.”

And with that, the duchess inclined her head regally to Kat, before gracefully turning and striding from the ballroom, her cane clipping on the floor as she departed.

The woman was right on that account; when Kat found Marcus she was going to strangle him. Perhaps not actually strangle the man, but give him a piece of her mind.

Returning her attention to the ballroom, Kat scanned the assembly and spotted Lord Newtown fawning over several of his guests near the far balcony doors, to the right of the small chamber orchestra.

The host himself was dressed in the height of fashion, wearing jet black tails, with a bright red silk waistcoat and an ivory, starched shirt underneath. The man’s trousers had a trim of military red ribbon on their outer seams, that matched his waistcoat.

“Do you notice how he surrounds himself with men?” Lady Brighthope’s smooth voice held a hint of derision. “Do you wonder why that is?”

Kat turned around and saw the woman watching her with rather assessing eyes. “If you haven’t managed to charm him, Lady Brighthope, then I suspect he keeps their company as he must prefer men over ladies.”

Lady Brighthope laughed aloud. “Shame that a man who dresses so well prefers other men. He would have been a lovely trophy to add to my mantel. But aren’t you a clever little cat, deducing that.”

“Just an observant one,” Kat replied.

The woman grinned. “But what about an adventurous one, my dear?” Blatantly, she began looking Kat up and down, a gleam in her eye. “You would make a wonderful courtesan.” Lady Brighthope winked at her. “Especially with your interesting skillset.”

Kat raised an eyebrow. “I must say that is the first time someone has suggested such a thing.” She didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.

The woman laughed as she casually brought up her hand and placed it on Kat’s upper arm. “You have no idea of the power you can hold over a man in such a position.” She then leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “I could teach you everything you’d need to know about how to seduce and pleasure a man until he worships the very ground you walk on, and would do anything for you. I’m sure it would help secure Westwood’s affections. A little nudge with the right techniques and you’d have him eating out of your palm until he was but a lovestruck fool.”

The idea of love was terrifying. Whenever Kat had loved someone, they died. “I don‘t want him to love me.”

“Lust, then.” The woman waved her hand around. “Whatever you want to call it. But I can teach you how to make him burn for you. Worship you, to the point of obsession.”

Reluctantly, she was intrigued with idea. “How would you teach me such things?”

Lady Brighthope’s hand stroked down Kat’s arm for a moment. “I would pleasure you myself, of course.”

Kat sucked in a deep breath and hastily stepped away from her.

Lady Brighthope laughed. “You look so delightfully shocked. Women pleasure each other all the time, my dear. Did you not do so in finishing school?”

Kat shook her head firmly. “Certainly not!”

The woman shrugged one of her dainty shoulders. “What a shame. You missed out on such fun. Are you certain you aren’t at all interested in my proposition? A female is so much softer and more sensual than a man. I think you and I could enjoy each other a great deal.”

Kat could only stare at the woman. Was she playing with her, or was she serious? Obviously, Kat knew women did such things together, but it was not something she herself had ever contemplated.

“What proposition would that be?” Marcus’s deep voice echoed from behind them.

Swiveling, Kat saw him standing there, a scowl on his face as he glanced between her and Lady Brighthope. The thought that perhaps he’d overhead their conversation filled her with mortification and her cheeks reddened with the memories of the woman’s scandalous offer. How was she to explain such a thing to him? She simply wouldn’t. Some things a man did not need to know.

“It is nothing, my lord,” Kat replied curtly.

The man was resplendent in his evening regalia. Unlike the other men, he was dressed in all black except for his crisp white shirt. Kat felt herself aching to be pulled into his arms and kissed senseless by him. But then she remembered how annoyed she was with him.

“Nothing?” he asked, his whole body stiffening a fraction. “I rather think it is something when a courtesan is speaking to my fiancée about propositions.”

“I’m not your fiancée,” she furiously whispered up at him. “And if you keep saying so, I will happily knee you in the bollocks again, right here, in front of everyone. Do you understand me?”

“Oh dear,” Lady Brighthope tittered. “Perhaps I should let you two lovers sort out your tiff in private.”

“You’re not going anywhere, Lady Brighthope.” Marcus motioned his head behind her to the two men that had made their way to stand behind the two women. “If you do not cooperate and follow me and Lady Kaitlyn down the corridor and into the library, these men will escort you there by force.”

Lady Brighthope gasped. “Once Bertie hears of what you have subjected me—”

“Bertie is aware of my intent, my lady,” Marcus stated, his voice entirely matter-of-fact. “Who do you think authorized these men from the War Office to assist me tonight?”

Lady Brighthope stood with her mouth slightly agape. “Assist you with what?”

“To do whatever I must to keep Lord Newtown alive, madam. And if that includes assisting me to get you to talk, then so be it.”

“You would not dare force anything from me!”

“Trust me, I would,” Marcus stated blandly, motioning with his arm for her to precede him out of the ballroom entrance.

The look in his eyes must have convinced the lady, as she gave a somewhat stilted nod and began walking out of the room, her head held at a high angle as though she was carrying a stack of books on her head.

“You.” Marcus pointed to the closest of the two. “Follow her and make sure she goes straight to the library.” He turned to the other man. “You, go and keep a watch over Newtown, I shall return after questioning Lady Brighthope.”

The men nodded and went to do as Marcus directed, while Marcus himself looked at Kat with weary yet possessive eyes.

“After you, my lady,” he said, motioning toward the door. “For I assume you intend to come while I question Brighthope.”

“Of course I do. But don’t think for a moment you will not pay for spreading false engagement rumors.” She narrowed her eyes and gave him her fiercest glare, before sweeping from the room, too. As if she wouldn’t wish to be present, and he knew that fact perfectly well, too. The cad.

She walked down the corridor and into the library. The room wasn’t really what Kat would have called a library so much as a space designed to show off Lord Newtown’s somewhat ostentatious and scandalous volumes of erotic literature, if the titles she passed stacked in the bookshelves lining the room were any indication.

And now perched on one of the dainty silver armchairs, matching the silver motifs adorning the room, Lady Brighthope sat, a look of acute irritation on her beautiful features.

Her brows snapped together as she caught sight of Kat and Marcus crossing the threshold. Marcus nodded to the man, who left the room and closed the door behind him.

“What do you want from me?” Lady Brighthope wasted no time in coming to the point once the man had left. “I’ve told you what I can.”

“You have told us what you want us to know,” Marcus responded as he came to a halt several feet from her. “No more games, Brighthope. What did that fellow Tremont have to do with the Chameleon attempting to assassinate Lord Newtown?”

“I do not know,” Lady Brighthope declared as she stood and threw her hands up into the air. “Truly I do not! All I know is that I heard his name being linked to Newtown for the house party this weekend.” She looked at both Kat and Marcus, her eyes beseeching them to believe her. “Surely, you found something to link him.”

“Not a thing,” Marcus drawled.

“That’s not my fault!”

“Who did you hear this information from?” Kat asked.

Lady Brighthope’s eyes swung around to Kat; they were filled with fear. “You know I can’t betray a client, but more than that…if this one finds out that I was snooping and overheard him, he will kill me, and I do mean literally.”

Kat believed her. The woman obviously had to be a good actor in her profession, but the terror in her eyes was real. “Lady Brighthope, please, you must help us. You seem to be the only one who knows at least partially what is going on.”

“We can assure your safety,” Marcus added.

“Please!” Lady Brighthope scoffed. “You cannot even keep members of the peerage safe. Why would you even care about a lowly courtesan who sleeps with men for money?”

“If he says he will keep you safe, he will.” Kat walked over and stood across from her.

“Like he kept his wife safe from the Chameleon?”

Kat saw Marcus’s whole body stiffen.

Lady Brighthope turned and looked at Kat. “Did you know that she was stabbed to death in her bed, by her lover? That he”—she turned and nodded her head in Marcus’s direction—“was too busy with his government position to even realize his wife was having an affair, and with a spy, no less? And then apparently when he found her dead, he shed no tears? Does that not concern you, that you have become attached to a man so cold and clinical? You can see why I would be somewhat dubious when he offers me his protection.”

“Of course I know all of that,” Kat replied. “But with the Great Game with Russia, naturally his attentions were elsewhere. An honorable woman would have understood that, instead of seeking solace elsewhere. The late countess did not deserve to have any tears shed over her, especially not from the man she betrayed.”

Lady Brighthope seemed taken aback before she started laughing. “Oh, I do see why you two are attracted to each other. You’re both as black and white as the other in your thoughts of right and wrong.”

Kat raised her eyebrows. “I think you do not know either of us well enough to comment, Lady Brighthope.”

“Possibly not. Though I am an excellent observer.”

“That’s what I am counting on when you assist us and tell us what you know. You do want vengeance on the Chameleon, do you not?”

A reluctant smile flittered across the corners of the woman’s mouth. “You’re a clever little cat indeed. The Chameleon must die, that is true. I suppose I should do my part to ensure that.” The woman sank back into her chair and sighed. “Very well, I will assist you. But that is the only reason why. Otherwise, trust me. I never would have introduced myself to you, no matter how intriguingly attractive I find you.”

“What the devil did you say?” Marcus spluttered, a look of shock on his face.

Lady Brighthope grinned at his reaction and Kat didn’t quite know how to respond. It was not every day, after all, that the most sought-after courtesan in Europe professed her attraction to another woman. Well, it certainly was not in Kat’s case.

“You heard me well enough.” Lady Brighthope waved a dismissive hand toward him. “But I am expecting the full protection of the War Office.” She looked over at Marcus at her pronouncement.

“You will have it,” Sir Albert’s voice echoed in the room, from the now open door to the library. The man shut the door behind him and briskly strode over to the three of them.

Marcus straightened from the bookcase. “Sir Albert? What are you doing back here? You were meant to stay in London with your guards.”

“I can’t hide in London when others are at risk,” Sir Albert replied, as he bowed at Kaitlyn, before turning his attention on Lady Brighthope. “You must tell us what you know, madam. Several lives depend on it.”

Lady Brighthope batted her eyelids at Sir Albert. “Including your own, Sir Albert?”

The man jerked backward a fraction, shock on his face. “I see you are well-informed, Lady Brighthope.”

“One must be in my line of work, Sir Albert.” She looked at him earnestly. “As you must be in yours. You are brave, for here you are, facing death and yet you do not flee.”

Sir Albert puffed out his chest. “One can’t be deterred by a mere threat, and besides I must ensure the War Office functions as it should.”

“Of course you must,” she agreed, looking up at him through her thick lashes. “And will you be able to ensure my safety?”

“It will be my privilege to personally guarantee your safety,” Sir Albert intoned.

Kat rolled her eyes. The man had been wrapped around the woman’s finger in five seconds flat.

“Please tell us what you know, dear lady,” Sir Albert asked her.

She smacked her ruby red lips together and frowned. “Very well, if I must. The client I told Lady Kaitlyn about earlier, the one with the list of names in his pocket. His name is Matthew Corkdale and I believe he works for the Chameleon. In fact, I think he’s the Chameleon’s most trusted right-hand man.”

“Do any of you know him?” Sir Albert twisted around to ask Kat and Marcus.

Both shook their heads. The name was new to Kat.

“When he was at my residence the other evening,” Lady Brighthope continued, “one of his servants delivered an urgent missive. I overheard him telling the servant to attend a Mr. Tremont immediately and give him a note. I sent one of my maids to follow his servant. She overheard the servant tell Mr. Tremont that he was to play his instrument with the orchestra at Lord Newtown’s ball.”

Kat and Marcus looked at each other. “The violin,” they said simultaneously.

“Bloody hell, Mr. Tremont was a musician!” Marcus said. “And he was probably killed so the killer could take his place disguised as one of the orchestral musicians for the ball tonight. That’s why his violin case was missing.”

“We have to get back to the ball!” Kat lifted up her skirts and ran from the room.

“Stay with Brighthope,” Marcus ordered Sir Albert as he followed close on Kat’s heels.