Summers' Embrace Page 11

  “She does correspond with you frequently.”

  Elena nodded. “She does.”

  “It must be nice having a sibling who is interested in you. I wish my brother conveyed even the slightest interest in me.”

  “He does,” Elena said as she looped her arm through Catrina’s. “He is interested in finding you a suitor he can manipulate.”

  An unladylike snort left Catrina. “He is interested in my money. If Mother and Father had left everything to Branson, he would have placed me in an orphanage and never have given me another thought.”

  All Elena could do was give her friend’s arm a comforting squeeze, for Catrina was correct.

  “No more talk of boorish brothers and money,” Elena said. “We are at Eden. A paradise in the making.”

  “And on our way to see the caves.”

  The friends walked along the beach, enjoying the feel of the sun upon their faces. Catrina looked to her left. The waves crashed against the shoreline, causing a frothy foam to form upon the sand. In the distance, a ship drifted by, its sails pulled taut by the wind. Seabirds flew over the water in search of a meal. How tranquil and surreal the setting appeared compared to life.

  Catrina and Elena neared the entrance of the cave. A wide variety of seashells had collected around the rocks. Elena released her friend’s arm and bent over, picking up a shell.

  “Do you think I can hit the entrance?” Elena asked.

  Catrina surveyed the distance from their location to the entrance. “I believe you can.”

  Elena reared her arm back and released the shell. It flew through the air and landed several inches from its mark.

  “You try,” Elena said.

  Catrina bent over and scooped up several shells. Chewing her lower lip, she drew her arm back and threw the shell. It sailed through the air and struck the rocks several feet from the entrance.

  “Come now. We can do better than that,” Elena said, picking up more shells.

  The pair tossed seashells at the rock formation and laughed at their tries.

  “One more,” Elena said, holding up her last projectile. She tossed it at the rock and hit the wall, inches from the entrance. “Beat that!”

  “All right,” Catrina said, accepting the challenge. Readjusting her stance, she concentrated on her target. She pulled her arm back and released the shell. As it flew through the air, her eyes grew wide in excitement. The shell appeared to be heading to her target. Horror came to her face as she saw Lord Huntsley exit the cave just as her shell crossed to the area. The shell struck Lord Huntsley on his forehead.

  “Bloody hell!” Thomas exclaimed, his hand coming to his forehead.

  Catrina gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

  Thomas turned to the noise. The scowl Thomas gave her was hot enough to burn her skin. “Miss Wilcox,” he growled. “I should have known.”

  All the color seemed to have drained from Catrina’s face, and Thomas seriously thought she might swoon.

  “Get out of the way, Huntsley,” Artie said, pushing Thomas forward.

  Thomas moved forward but kept his gaze locked on Catrina.

  “Miss Paxsley. Miss Wilcox. You are just in time to see if my mirrors work,” Artie said, trying to step around Thomas. “I do say, Huntsley. Are you rooted in the sand? And why are you holding your head?”

  “Miss Paxsley?” Hawke said with interest, pushing Thomas and Artie out of his path.

  “Dammit, Hawke,” Thomas complained in a tight frosty voice.

  “What is the matter?” Joshua inquired as he glanced at Thomas.

  “It was an accident,” Catrina finally said, her voice strained.

  “What was an accident?” Artie asked. He looked between Catrina and Thomas, and the corner of his mouth twitched with humor. “Did Huntsley say something inappropriate again? Something that you took offense to and made you pelt him with stones?”

  “No,” Thomas replied gruffly.

  “Come now,” Artie continued as he laughed. “Why else would she stone you?”

  “It was an accident,” Catrina said, her soft blue eyes dangerously close to tears. “Elena and I were trying to see who could hit the opening. Lord Huntsley stepped forward just as I threw my shell.”

  “I seriously doubt you could injure Huntsley’s head. It is too hard,” Hawke said, approaching the women.

  “You should not tease your friend, Lord Hawke,” Elena said, batting her lashes coyly at the handsome baron.

  “Nonsense. He needs a good ribbing. It builds character.”

  “I will remember this, Hawke,” Thomas said. He touched his forehead again and felt a small welt forming. The scowl on Thomas’s face deepened.

  “You are fine, Huntsley,” Artie said, swatting Thomas’s back.

  “I have a knot on my head.” Thomas’s eyes were locked on Catrina as she worked her hands.

  “It improves your looks impeccably,” Artie said, a maddening smile on his lips.

  Catrina took a deep breath for courage and squared her shoulders. She approached Thomas. “I am truly sorry, Lord Huntsley. I did not purposely throw the shell at you.”

  “You are not a child, Miss Wilcox. Why would you throw them to begin with?” Thomas acidly replied.

  His patronizing tone angered Catrina. Her tone was clipped as she replied, “If I had known you were exiting the cave, I would have thrown a bigger one. One large enough, perhaps it would have knocked the rudeness from your soul.”

  Thomas opened his mouth, but Artie chimed in, “She has apologized, Huntsley. Leave it.” Artie knew that Thomas had a dreadful temper, and he feared that Miss Wilcox could not handle the force coming her way.

  “Stay out of this, Artie,” Thomas snapped.

  “Allow him to say his piece,” Catrina said. “I am a grown woman. I can handle myself perfectly fine with a bumptious lord.”

  “Bumptious lord?” Thomas repeated, his fists clenching at his side. “Those are strong words from an ignoble woman.”

  “I will have you know that my parents were high-standing members of Swindon. Unlike yours.”

  Artie’s eyes grew wide as he ran his hand down his face, mumbling, “Shit.”

  “Unlike mine?” Thomas rebuked.

  “Yes. I have heard the tales of your family’s reputation, and it is far from being untainted. So do not try to act superior to me when, in truth, your family has more baggage than a porter.”

  Artie could not contain his laughter. “She has you there, Huntsley.”

  “Shut up, Artie,” Thomas snapped.

  “Come now,” Artie said. “We all have dirty little secrets in our closets. Family members we are not proud of. Hell, I have a grandfather who turned traitor and fought against the British during the war. And, Huntsley, let us not forget your connection to the St. Johns. That family thrives on scandal. Or your father’s actions. And do not get me started on Hawke.”

  “You are not helping the matter any, Artie.”

  “All I am saying is that neither of you have cause to insult the other. Thomas, you are angry at being injured. It is not Miss Wilcox’s fault that you walked into that stone. Your pride was wounded, and you took your frustrations out on the innocent Miss Wilcox. Miss Wilcox had every right to defend herself after you attacked her with your words.”

  “Every right?!” Thomas replied brusquely. “I believe she is the one who pelted me with a seashell.”

  Artie waved away the comment. “A minor injury. Just bad timing is what occurred. Now apologize to her, Huntsley.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Of course. Since you and Hawke belittled my mirror notion, I need another opinion. And since Miss Wilcox and Miss Paxsley are here, they will do just splendidly.” Artie looked at Catrina. “What do you say, Miss Wilcox? Would you care to give an opinion on my notion?”

  Catrina kept her gaze focused on Thomas. His words hurt her pride. Tears still glistened in her eyes. She hated the fact that when she became angry, she cri
ed.

  “Thomas,” Artie said with assertiveness, giving a rueful glance at his friend. “Apologize.”

  Thomas looked at Catrina, and the emotions coursing through her eyes slammed him in the stomach. She was at the point of tears. Damn, Artie. No, damn her! Those cornflower blue eyes of hers glittered with hurt. He was being callous towards her, not because of her actions, but because of her brother. Add that he learned that the woman he had been casually calling upon, Iris Parker, was arriving in Eden today—well, it soured his disposition even further.

  Swallowing down his pride, Thomas spoke, “I did not mean to come off so harshly towards you, Miss Wilcox. If I have offended you with my words, I apologize.”

  Catrina swallowed hard. Her voice wobbled as she said, “Thank you.”

  “Splendid!” Artie said. “Now that that little mess is cleared, Miss Wilcox, would you care to give us your opinion of my mirror notion?”

  Catrina addressed Artie. “Mr. Heath, your theory is sound. Egyptians possibly used a similar practice to illuminate large rooms.”

  “Poppycock,” Thomas said.

  “It is true. From what I have read, the Egyptians used polished brass for reflective purposes, although brass does not conduct light very effectively. In theory, today’s mirrors could conduct a significant enough illumination to light up a room if placed in the proper alignment.”

  A wry grin came to Artie. “I do love an educated woman, especially when one can articulate an argument so artfully against my friends.”

  “Indeed,” Thomas grumbled. “Well, Miss Wilcox, since you are so educated on the illumination techniques used by the Egyptians, how should Artie position his mirrors to conduct light?”

  Catrina shook her head with uncertainty. “I am by far an expert, Lord Huntsley. I just like to read.”

  “So, you have no proof?”

  His patronizing question irritated her.

  “No. The Egyptians used highly polished brass, which does reflect somewhat. Mirrors, on the other hand, have reflective properties,” she chided in a tone as if she were addressing a misbehaving child.

  “Oh, I do love your astuteness, Miss Wilcox,” Artie said. “And the way you can get under Thomas’s skin. You must give me lessons on how you do that.”

  “What did I do now?” Catrina asked in a honeyed tone. She knew exactly what she had done.

  “Nothing,” Thomas said. “Artie, your mirrors?”

  “Oh, yes,” Arthur said. “Now, I need a mirror to capture the sun’s light.”

  Catrina looked around. She shook her head. “I am afraid that the location of the cave’s entrance will make that near impossible. Unless you knock down the wall in front of the entrance, there will not be a way to get the amount of light you need.”

  “Bugger,” Artie mumbled. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “What if we set up multiple mirrors outside?”

  Catrina nodded sagely. “That could work.”

  “Splendid! Hawke, come here and quit trying to woo Miss Paxsley with your imagined charisma.”

  Joshua glowered at Artie. Elena smiled bashfully.

  “Come on now!” Artie called.

  Joshua and Elena approached.

  “What do you want?” Joshua asked his friend.

  “Hawke and Miss Paxsley, please help me set the mirrors up on the beach. Huntsley, you and Miss Wilcox go into the caves and let me know when you can see the light.”

  The trio began placing the mirror stands in the sand. Thomas picked up the torch by the cave entrance and gestured his arm forward.

  “After you, Miss Wilcox,” Thomas said.

  Catrina entered the cave, followed by Thomas. Inside, she noticed several tall pole-like stands with mirrors placed upon them.

  Thomas walked around her to one of the mirrors and turned it so that the mirror would face the opening.

  “Do you think this will truly work?” Thomas asked, the doubt apparent in his tone.

  Catrina shrugged. In a tight frosty voice, she answered, “We will see, will we not?”

  Thomas noticed her curtness. “I apologized to you. What more do you want?”

  “Yes, you did apologize, but it was not sincere. You only said what you did because your friend forced you to do so.”

  Thomas knew she was correct. He swallowed down his pride. “True. However, I was already angry at a situation that was not your doing. I took my frustrations out on you. It was an ungentlemanly thing for me to do. I am deeply sorry.”

  The sincerity of his words surprised her.

  “Thank you,” she replied. “And I apologize for striking you in the head. If I had known you would be exiting the cave, I would have waited before I threw it.”

  “So, why were you throwing the shells again?”

  “We were wasting time.”

  “For what?”

  “Elena and I have dress fittings this afternoon. I learned that Mr. Heath would be here placing his mirrors and wanted to witness the event. So, we decided to take a stroll before the fittings. If we returned too early, Mrs. Paxsley was going to force us to visit with some of her acquaintances.”

  A winsome smile came to Thomas, giving him a boyish charm. “Are you saying you did not feel like socializing with matriarchal women?”

  “Well, I would not have put it so eloquently.”

  Thomas laughed. “So, you were killing time and decided to toss shells at a rock wall?”

  “Yes and no. We decided to visit the caves. The shell tossing idea was a spur of the moment notion.”

  “Yours?”

  Catrina shook her head and approached one of the mirrors. “Elena’s.”

  “And your goal was?”

  Removing the handkerchief that was tucked into her sleeve, she began polishing a mirror. “To see who could hit the corner of the entrance. Elena was winning.”

  “And from your aim, I can see why,” he teased.

  She turned to him and noticed the sideways smile upon his face. “You should not tease me so, Lord Huntsley. I have already soiled your clothing with milk, bloodied your nose, and pelted you with seashells. All accidentally. Now imagine what I could do if I were purposely trying to harm you?”

  “I will keep that in mind.” Thomas tilted his mirror. “Tilt your mirror more this direction, Miss Wilcox.”

  Catrina pivoted her mirror. It captured the light from Thomas’s torch, and a smile pulled at her lips as the light reflected into Thomas’s eyes, causing him to squint.

  “Well, we know his theory works with a torch,” Catrina said.

  Thomas stepped away from the light. “Do not tell Artie that notion. He is full of himself, and that would only make his attitude that much worse.”

  “No promises.” Catrina teased. Looking around the cave, she smiled. “I cannot wait to see if Mr. Heath’s mirrors work. The lanterns simply do not illuminate the caves properly. Last time I was here, I could hardly make them out.”

  “When were you here?”

  “A few days ago. Mr. Thompson escorted Elena and me here.”

  “Mr. Thompson? Who is that?” Thomas inquired, a jealous twinge coming to him at the thought that Catrina might have a suitor.

  “He works for Mr. Ingram at the hotel as a porter.”

  Relief came to Thomas upon her admission, causing the tension to leave his shoulders. He drew his brow together in thought.

  “Which one? Would he be the old man or the young boy?”

  “Neither. He is around my age. Brown hair.”

  The porter’s image came to mind, causing Thomas to scowl as he remembered the man. Last night, Thomas and his friends were playing cards at a local tavern. Thompson was there with a few employees from the hotel. Thompson was foxed enough to boast about how his employment gave him access to wealthy men's naïve daughters. Thompson bragged how his goal was to be found in a compromising situation with one of the daughters; hence he could get his hands upon their dowry through a marriage made possible by scandal.

  “Oh, him?�
�� Thomas said coolly.

  “You do not care for Mr. Thompson?” Catrina pointedly asked.

  “You would be correct.”

  “Why?”

  “Let us just leave it with that I have had dealings with the man that were not agreeable.”

  “You could say the same of me.”

  Thomas’s mouth twitched. “I could, but our dealings were completely different.”

  “In what way?”

  “Our dealings were by chance. Mine with Mr. Thompson were not. And before you lecture me about my dealings, just know that I am only warning you to protect you.”

  “Protect me? From what?”

  “I overheard him bragging about taking advantage of the patrons of the hotel.”

  Catrina inhaled with surprise. “Does Mr. Ingram know?”

  Thomas shook his head. “I have not spoken with Mr. Ingram since I learned this information.”

  “It is a shame. Mr. Thompson appeared to be a nice man.”

  “He is a scoundrel.”

  “That is a little harsh, don’t you think?”

  Thomas shrugged. “I have been called worse.”

  “And what have they called you?”’

  “Rogue. Rake. Reprobate. Ne’er-do-well. Wastrel. Scoundrel. Blackguard.”

  “That is a vast list.”

  “That is the shortlist.”

  Catrina’s eyes widened. “They call you worse?”

  Thomas nodded. “Much worse.”

  Sympathy pulled at Catrina’s features. “I am sorry.”

  Thomas shrugged with indifference. “I have become accustomed to the insults.”

  “No one should be so cruel.”

  “It is London. The gossipmongers love to sink their teeth into my reputation. And those same tongue-wagging shrews long to have their daughters marry me. My reputation does not take away from the appeal of my title or wealth.”

  A disheartened sigh left Catrina. “Thank you for the warning about Mr. Thompson, but he need not try to get me into a compromising situation for marriage's sake. He would be greatly disappointed for my brother is arranging a marriage for me as we speak.”

  “Without your presence?” Huntsley inquired, ire in his tone.