The blush deepened. Catherine, knowing her milk-white complexion, inwardly cursed it. Her face must be absolutely crimson! And she could not fathom the least clue to his thoughts. Even though he had kicked the door in, neither his face nor his voice betrayed any sign of ardor or anger. His eyes gleamed as cool and gray as ever. Stabbed again by fear, she wanted to turn and run, but her pride would not let her.
She decided instead to muster what dignity she might.
Catherine lifted her chin and drew herself up, her face a haughty mask. “Well, my lord? What is it that you are so eager to discuss?”
“The conditions of our marriage.”
“I thought that you and my uncle had already made those arrangements.” Catherine’s voice dripped acid. “That the two of you had completed the terms of sale.”
Caldbeck raised one eyebrow a hair’s breadth. “I am sorry to hear that you view the contract in that light.”
He watched silently as Catherine stalked past him to the other end of the room, then stalked back, anger gradually replacing fear.
“How else am I to view it? How my uncle thought he could force me into it, I can’t imagine. I fear you have spent your money for nothing, my lord.”
“Indeed?” Caldbeck’s expression held nothing but the smallest amount of polite inquiry.
Catherine considered herself the equal of any man in a verbal battle, but she found Caldbeck’s icy reserve to be just the least little bit daunting. He did not rise to the hook of her barbed words. Hunting for a new tack, she cleared her throat. “It is obvious, my lord, that I can’t marry you. I hardly know you, but surely you must see, as I do, that we are utter opposites.”
Caldbeck nodded in agreement.
“You are aware of that?”
“Of course.”
“But…but surely we would drive one another into Bedlam within a twelve-month!”
“I believe the results of our marriage may not be quite so unpleasant as all that.”
His tone was as even as ever, and Catherine studied his expression once again for some clue to his feelings. Finding none, she sighed in exasperation. “My lord, this is madness in itself. We would not suit.”
“On the contrary, Miss Maury, I believe we shall deal together very well.”
“You can’t mean that. How could two such different people possibly live together?”
“Very happily. We each have that which the other needs.”
Catherine felt intrigued in spite of herself. “What in the world could that be?”
“I think we can agree that, at the moment, you are badly in need of a means of support. Your uncle—” somehow, without having altered his tone of voice whatsoever, Caldbeck imbued the word with disdain “—has placed you in a highly untenable position. You need money. I have a great deal of it.”
Catherine felt the color flooding her face again. “I hope I am not so mercenary.”
“No, I don’t perceive you as mercenary—the word I would use would be desperate.” He waited patiently for a reply.
Catherine struggled with warring emotions. He had the right of it, of course. Her situation was desperate. Still, she balked at being forced into anything, let alone a marriage she didn’t want to a man she hardly knew and had no hope of understanding. Nor any hope of his accepting her. She took refuge in anger, a much stronger and more comfortable emotion than desperation.
“And you wish to take advantage of my predicament!”
Caldbeck’s expression never changed. “I simply propose a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“And what do you hope to gain?”
“Your beauty, your energy, your superb elegance. You…warm me.” Even as he searched for the words, his countenance remained composed, his voice without emotion. “I also admire your ability to consider the plight of those less fortunate than yourself. It is a very rare trait in our time. I need someone to assist me with my responsibilities to society.”
For years, Catherine had heard nothing but disbelief, irritation or amusement on the subject of her charities. Astonished, she could only stammer, “You—you do?”
“I do, and I am prepared to offer you some assistance. My seat is situated in Yorkshire. Countless children are in unfortunate circumstances in the cities of that area—in the mines, the woolen mills, the foundries. The district provides endless scope for your talents and my funds.”
Catherine narrowed her eyes in thought. “Yes, I have heard many horrifying tales of children in the mines and mills. But what of my work here? I have only just succeeded in organizing a board of contributors for the foundling hospital, and I am still trying to do so for the new boys’ home.”
“I have no objection to an occasional trip to London, although I prefer to live on my estates so that I may oversee them myself. But one can place only so much dependence on others.”
“Yes, that is certainly true. It is one of the reasons I desire to remain in London.” And unwed.
“I understand that, but I believe that you may accomplish a great deal of the groundwork for your London projects through the post, if you plan your visits to best advantage. In time you will be able to shift your attention to Yorkshire.”
Catherine turned and once more looked without seeing at the scene outside the window. Caldbeck waited calmly for a response. His offer indeed tempted her. He had the power to help her causes in so many ways, if only he would. It would be a relief to have a supporter. The money was important, of course, but…She turned back abruptly.
“Would you speak in the House of Lords on the laws governing child labor?”
Caldbeck paused, considering. Catherine tapped her foot impatiently.
At last, he nodded. “Yes, from time to time, if you provide me with the information. I rarely speak in Parliament, but I shall do so now and then. I do not wish to involve all my time with your projects. I have business of my own. That is one reason I need you.”
Catherine again directed her gaze toward the window. Could she believe his promise, or was he just trying to convince her to accept him? How long would it be before he lost interest in her, and his own business took precedence over hers? She could not know until too late. She still did not entirely understand his wish to make her his wife.
You warm me. Could anyone warm this human icicle? Beauty? Elegance? Perhaps he simply wanted a tall, well-dressed woman at his side as an ornament, one he could enjoy in his detached way, who would perform the duties of his countess. Perhaps he would make no demands on her in the marriage bed. That might be an advantage. She would not have to fear for her children. But…was that entirely an advantage?
Catherine felt the color rising again in her face and kept it carefully turned to the window. A woman of strong feelings, she had been aware for some time in this conversation that Caldbeck’s presence created sensations in her that she had rather avoid. She must make this decision with a cool head, not in response to unruly prompting from her lower body. Though what in that unmoving visage inspired passion, she was sure she didn’t know. Just because he had broad shoulders and well-muscled legs…
Her next thought stopped her. What a miserable existence it would be to live with a man who aroused these desires if he had no inclination to explore them with her! Catherine had been aware for years of a burning curiosity to understand the intimacy of the bedchamber, but except for a few discreet kisses, she remained in ignorance. She understood too well the penalties for pursuing the subject in her unwed state to risk them. Her impetuosity did not extend that far. She shuddered to think of having a child under those circumstances.
Besides, she would be compromising her integrity to