Lady Catherine's Secret: A Secrets and Seduction book Read Free Page A

and yanked it from his head. He locked gazes with Catherine for a moment, glaring at her, and then lifted his chin and closed his eyes. A moment later, his shoulders visibly relaxed as if his anger simply ebbed away. When he opened his eyes again, they appeared cool. He gave Catherine a quick nod of acknowledgment and then spun on his heel and strode toward the door at the end of the large fencing salon. He tossed his foil and mask to a servant before he passed through the door, apparently leaving the other fencers, and the incident, behind him.
    That was quite the trick. Had his temper really abated just as quickly as it had spiked?
    She peered at Huntley to gauge his reaction. He appeared relieved as he watched Wentworth stride from the room. And then his gaze turned toward her, almost as though he’d sensed her looking at him. He was halfway across the room, walking straight toward her, before she even realized he’d moved.
    Did he mean to speak with her? Apparently so. She slid her mask under the crook of her arm.
    “My compliments to you, Gray.” Huntley’s voice held a faint, but pleasant, Scottish lilt. “You bested my friend on his first night at Bernini’s. He’d planned to show off his finely honed skills, but instead he found himself beaten by a young pup barely out of clouts.” Huntley smiled more broadly as he handed his equipment to a waiting servant. When he glanced back at her, his gaze lingered on the scar on her cheek.
    Clouts? Catherine didn’t know whether or not to take insult with his reference to diapering a baby. “I hope your friend will forgive the affront since none was intended. Lady Luck was with me tonight. Lord Wentworth is an excellent fencer. I look forward to our next match.” She scratched her nose as she glanced at the empty doorway through which Wentworth had exited. How much of a problem would the man prove to be?
    “You seem mature for a boy of your years,” Huntley said, drawing her gaze back to him. The man’s cool blue eyes seemed to focus on her with an uncomfortable intensity. She suddenly felt as exposed as a mouse spied by a hawk. “What are you, twelve... fourteen years old?” He narrowed his eyes, measuring every inch of her.
    The question put her on her guard. Perhaps his last comment about clouts had been meant to rattle her. She cocked one eyebrow and shot back at him, “And you, sir, how old are you?”
    Bernini, walking past, must have overheard at least part of their exchange, because he paused and said, “Lord Huntley, please allow me to introduce our star pupil, young Alexander Gray. Master Gray, you have the honor of meeting the Marquess of Huntley.”
    Catherine didn’t snort. Barely. She wasn’t surprised to learn of the man’s exalted rank in the peerage. Huntley exuded an aura of superiority. Perhaps it would be wise to show him the expected amount of respect, despite his rudeness. “Lord Huntley, you do me great honor,” she said with a graceful bow. She raised her head and met his gaze with serenity. “How long will we have the pleasure of your company in London? I look forward to many more matches with your friend.”
    “I plan to stay here for the season. Both Lord Wentworth and I have a number of interests in town, and I have a project that will require much of my time.”
    “Yes.” Catherine nodded. “I believe I heard something about your ‘project.’ You’re in search of a bride, am I correct?” Asking the question felt very much like poking a hornet’s nest with a stick.
    Huntley cocked a brow at her. “You are remarkably well-informed for your age.” He narrowed his eyes. “I plan to be back here at the academy next week. Will I see you then?”
    She glanced away. “I try to come often, but I don’t have a set schedule.”
    “Yes, yes,” Bernini interjected. “The boy would improve much more rapidly if I could get him here on a more frequent basis.” He said this with a small frown. It was an ongoing point of