The Kiss of a Stranger Read Free Page A

anticipated this sort of entanglement?” One of Lord Cavratt’s eyebrows rose. He gave Catherine a questioning look.
    Did he think she frequently found herself in the arms of complete strangers? She tried to look as dignified as possible with his now-bloody handkerchief pressed to her mouth. She had her faults, certainly, but she was no light-skirt.
    “I would never have allowed an opportunity to rid myself of that brat to slip through my fingers.” Uncle yanked open the door. “I’ll bring back the vicar.”
    “Perfect,” Lord Cavratt muttered.
    “Keep an eye on the dandy,” Uncle growled at the maid and sent her scurrying back inside the sitting area. She hung near the door and kept her eyes obligingly on the dingy window.
    “Dandy?” Lord Cavratt said to no one in particular. “I am as much a dandy as that man is a saint.”
    Catherine had a sudden fleeting urge to smile at Lord Cavratt’s jab. But smiling was unladylike. Uncle had told her so countless times.
    “I cannot begin to apologize enough for all of this,” Lord Cavratt said.
    “Try,” Catherine said under her breath.
    Lord Cavratt obviously heard her remark. His brow raised in surprise as he regarded her searchingly. Catherine’s heart raced as it did every time she’d managed to ruffle Uncle’s feathers, which was alarmingly often. Please don’t let him be angry, she silently pleaded.
    “I am afraid we will have to marry.” Lord Cavratt began a slow pace around the room. “I hope you don’t object to a dandified gentleman.” The caustic tone with which he spoke added an unexpectedly humorous quality to his words. He, obviously, objected to Uncle’s evaluation of him. “But, I will see my solicitor in London and this will be cleared up quickly enough.”
    “I don’t understand.” Catherine’s voice seemed minuscule contrasted with his rich baritone.
    “We will annul the marriage,” Lord Cavratt said, as though any peahen should have thought of as much.
    So he thought her morals and her intellect were questionable—not the most promising evaluation from one’s future husband. Husband? Good heavens, how very ridiculous!
    “That sounded far more condescending than I intended. Forgive me.”
    Catherine nodded, feeling slightly appeased.
    “The license cannot possibly be legal,” he said, “which should make the marriage easily annulled. I think.”
    Catherine could easily believe her uncle had undertaken something illegal. Catherine dabbed at her lip. The bleeding had slowed, but the throbbing had not. She knew very little about annulments.
    “I will secure you a room for the night.” Lord Cavratt looked more than a little harried. “We’ll be in London tomorrow and have everything settled day after next.”
    He had walked a perfect oval around the sitting area, talking as much to himself as to Catherine. Strangely, his words were calming. Their absurd situation could be rectified.
    “Thank you, my lord.”
    “That will never do.” Lord Cavratt shook his head at her and even smiled a little. “If we’re going to be married—even for only two days—I’d like you to call me Crispin.”
    “I don’t think I can.” Catherine had been lectured on the rules of propriety more times than she could count.
    “It is not a difficult name.” He shrugged. “Two syllables. Fairly straightforward. Except my sister couldn’t say it. She called me ‘Crispy’ for years, although that is a rather undignified chapter of my past I would rather forget.”
    “Understandably so.” She had the oddest recurring desire to smile in Lord Cavratt’s company. Crispin’s, she corrected herself.
    “And do I have permission to use your given name?” He looked oddly amused. The hint of a smile on his lips changed his entire face, rendering him a little less intimidating, though only a very little.
    Catherine could feel herself blush as she nodded her agreement. A temporary wife ought to allow such a small familiarity, she