Chapter Two: The Wicked Guardian
"So the natives threw the whole sack overboard, and when the crocodile snapped his jaws shut, all he got was my dirty laundry!"
Charmed by the young explorer's carefree sense of humor, Catherine Howard let loose a merry peal of mirth. She had been laughing all morning, laughing so hard that she hardly noticed the time. First Francis Durham told her about prospecting for gold in Australia, and then he described life in a real Rajah's palace in India. Then he told Catherine about gathering snakes and reptiles in Sumatra, which is where he met his favorite reptile, Seymour.
"Your life sounds so wonderful! Having adventures, traveling all over the world." Catherine suddenly found herself feeling very melancholy. Her blue eyes twinkled each time she smiled at handsome Francis, but when he was done telling her about his adventures she sighed and lowered her long brown silken lashes, gazing almost sadly into her empty teacup.
"Your life is exciting, isn't it?" Friendly and cheerful Francis wasted no time pouring beautiful Catherine a fresh cup of tea. "Isn't it exciting to be all on your own, the owner of a great castle and fabulous wealth at the age of nineteen?"
"But I'm not really in charge of my own money or my own life. Not as long as my uncle's property is still entrusted to my guardian. He runs the estate and manages my fortune until I'm twenty-one. He has total control over everything . . . including me!"
Catherine didn't have to explain who her guardian was. While they were sharing a late breakfast in the cozy parlor, Francis had also shared several stories about Thomas Culpepper. But these weren't funny stories. It seemed that when he was an army officer, the cruel Mr. Culpepper had used his power and influence to ruin the clever Mr. Durham's brilliant career in India. That was why poor Francis was now just a zookeeper in England.
"You're a brave girl, Catherine," Francis said, his boyish brown eyes full of admiring sympathy. "Something tells me you'll find a way to outwit your wicked guardian."
"I hate him!" Catherine exclaimed, feeling ever so courageous with Francis on her side. The admiration in his eyes gave her confidence. "I've never even met him but I hate him!"
"That's not good," said an amused male voice from the doorway.
"Captain Culpepper!" Francis Durham's face had gone quite pale. He was eating a warm buttered muffin, and Catherine could actually hear him gulp down the last bite in a panic. When she turned around to face the intruder her blue eyes were flashing. She meant to say something about rude manners and eavesdropping men that would put her guardian right in his place.
"Enchanting all the gullible young girls as usual, Francis?" Culpepper looked like a jungle cat lounging in the doorway. Lazy gray eyes, cold as ice yet full of humor. A young face, but a tall figure, broad shoulders displayed in a suit cut just for his frame.
"Sir, you have no right to intrude! To intrude or to presume . . ." Catherine choked on her hot words and stumbled into silence, staring stupidly into her guardian's gorgeous gray eyes. She had pictured Culpepper as an oily old man puffing a cigar, greedily clutching her bags of gold in his fat fingers. Instead he was looking her over as though she were a child in a soiled dress, a child who needed a good hard spanking for playing in the mud.
"Captain Tom, sir, I was just telling the young lady about the new reptile exhibit at the London Zoo. Thanks to your generosity . . ."
"Henry Tudor's generosity," Culpepper corrected. "The vast wealth that he left behind must be managed for the good of all. Wouldn't you agree, Miss Catherine?"
"Humph!" Catherine felt like saying it was really her wealth, but she knew how childish that would sound. So she stuck her nose in the air and tried to look aloof and haughty. "Are my rooms all ready at the castle?" she asked, as though addressing a servant.
"Ready and waiting," Thomas Culpepper told her cheerfully. Catherine could see that her open disdain bounced right off him. "The servants have all been busy scrubbing and dusting, and Mrs. Huddleston the housekeeper has been anticipating your arrival for days. You've had a long journey and I realize you're tired and cross, but I expect you to acknowledge the staff with kind words and smile before you go to your room. And you," he said, turning to Francis Durham with a curt gesture, "are expected in London. The funds I gave you are for the reptiles and their care. Don't waste any of Henry Tudor's money on your way back to the zoo."
"Not a penny, Captain. And thank you!" Francis Durham looked like a schoolboy who had just been dismissed by the headmaster. Catherine couldn't believe he was the intriguing and intrepid young explorer she had been chatting with just moments ago.
What on earth had Thomas Culpepper done to make such a sweet boy so afraid of him?