Page 100 of Noble Scoundrel

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SEVERAL MINUTES BEFORE the appointed hour, Katherine sat in the center of the sofa in the front parlor awaiting her dinner guests. Frederick was expected to be down soon, but for now, she was alone. She’d dressed in a new gown of seafoam green with violet trim. It was important the Blackwells made a strong impression, so she chose the most sophisticated dress she owned. As dinner tonight was intended to be a more formal affair than anything they’d had at the house before, she’d considered wearing a set of her mother’s jewels, but decided against it as she’d feel much more herself without them. Mason arrived first—as usual avoiding proper announcement by her butler. One moment, she was glancing anxiously about the room, and in the next, his impressive form was filling the doorway. Dressed in proper evening wear—including a dashing cravat—he took her breath away.

Rising to her feet, she tried to smile with a confident air but wasn’t sure she’d managed to pull it off as she recalled how he’d helped her to bed the night before and chose to leave though she’d asked him to stay. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

He grinned and her belly flipped. “I’ve learned to do as my duchess commands.”

She resisted a smile to arch her brow. “Is that so?”

His chuckle was deep. Warm.

“I hope Claire wasn’t too disappointed that you didn’t join her for dinner.”

“I did join her.” Then he lowered his head toward hers to whisper, “Healthy appetite, remember.”

She wasn’t sure if he meant the words to sound sensual and suggestive, but that was how her body took them as heat flowed through her.

Before she could respond, Foster appeared in the doorway. “Lord Blackwell, Marquess of Warfield, my lady.” The butler stepped aside as Warfield entered the room.

He was dressed all in black but for a white cravat, which appeared to be his common style even when he wasn’t spying. As he came forward into the room, his blue eyes slid to Mason first. The two men took each other’s measure with cool, assessing stares. Then Mason gave a short grunt as his mouth tilted in a cocky half grin.

The marquess turned away almost dismissively to greet Katherine with a proper bow. As he straightened, she offered a tempered smile. “Welcome, my lord. I’m pleased you were able to join us.”

Though he returned her smile, Warfield’s pale eyes remained indifferent. “Lady Katherine, I was under the impression your invitation didn’t allow optional attendance,” he replied in a voice that was all silk and velvet in texture though slightly rigid in tone.

Mason gave a snorting laugh, which earned a swift scowl from Katherine before she addressed the marquess with another smile. “An intuitive deduction, cousin. Please have a seat. We’re still waiting for my brother to join us. He’s looking forward to meeting you.”

Warfield gave a shallow nod. “As I am him.”

As she turned to lead the way to the arrangement of sofas and chairs, Katherine caught Mason’s fierce expression as he eyed the marquess. She gave him a quick frown of warning—do not make this any more uncomfortable than it already is—to which he responded with a subtle twisting smirk that assured her of nothing.

Though Warfield had once been suspect, with that issue now resolved, it was Katherine’s hope that they might forge a true relationship with the man especially considering he’d put himself at some risk to assist in last night’s rescue. Seeing Warfield tonight, she noted he was rather exceptionally handsome with his striking features, but he still retained that mysterious air which had made her nervous those couple times she’d spotted him watching her.

If she had to hazard a guess, she’d say the man kept a few significant secrets. Still, he was Frederick’s heir and their family. All the family they had, actually.

In nearly the exact moment she thought of her brother, he appeared. He stepped so silently into the room, she wouldn’t have noticed his arrival if she hadn’t turned toward the door before taking her seat. “Ah, Frederick,” she noted with a smile.

As her brother came forward, looking rather fine in his evening wear, Katherine performed the necessary introduction to the marquess, who gave a proper bow before offering his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace.”

“And you as well, my lord,” Frederick replied earnestly as he shook the man’s hand before glancing aside at Katherine. “I feel we should apologize for not knowing of your father’s death or your inheritance of the title until only recently.”

“No need to apologize,” Warfield replied firmly. “Only a very rare few knew of my existence.”

Katherine was a bit surprised by the man’s ready admittance to the mystery surrounding his sudden appearance.

“Please,” Warfield added with a flicker of his gaze in Katherine’s direction, “accept my belated condolences on your father’s death.”

“Thank you,” Katherine replied, then hesitated. “We should offer—”

“Don’t bother,” Warfield interrupted darkly. “The world is a far better place without the prior marquess in it.”

After that intense declaration, they all took their seats—Mason beside her on the sofa, Warfield on the sofa across from them, and Frederick in a chair perpendicular to the marquess—and lapsed into a few moments of awkward silence.

But not for long.

With all that had transpired the night before, Katherine simply didn’t have the patience for it. With a heavy sigh, she met the marquess’s gaze boldly and directly.

“I know this all feels quite formal, but that’s not my intention. I requested you join us tonight so we could properly welcome you to the family, my lord, and to thank you for your assistance last night. But, in the spirit of full honesty, I admit I’m also hoping you might be able to shed light on some lingering questions about your involvement in our recent peril.”

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