Page 116 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke
Her fingers covered his lips. ‘Your mother helped me. I know you had to be elsewhere.’
‘Yes, but I am still sorry I could not be with you.’
‘I managed. Is Phillip upstairs?’
‘Yes.’
‘I will go up.’ Her hand slipped from his.
He did not follow as she left. He picked up the book and hid it, then returned to the drawing room.
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Folly, Katherine said to herself, as she had done a dozen times today.Folly, folly, folly, folly.
Follyto love him in the first place,follyto succumb to his seductions and certainlyfollyto believe she could be his wife. But she had believed him again last night and been enchanted by his attentions.
Catching up her skirt, not hearing him follow, she raced upstairs, her fingers sliding over the warm, silky mahogany.
Seeing his sketches of Egypt had reinforced how different their lives had been. She wished she had not seen them and yet she knew if she was ever to breach the gap between herself and John she had to understand his world. So, she had dutifully understood when his mother had excused John’s disappearance this morning and explained how busy his life was.
Of course he had a life beyond their bedchamber but she longed to lock him away and pretend all else did not exist.
She had shopped with his mother and enjoyed her company, and then faced the matrons of elite society. She had hated every moment of that, but she had smiled and borne it, because she knew eventually these women would be gone and John would come home and they could retire to his rooms again.
Phillip greeted her with a hug and she clung to him for a moment, pressing her cheek to his shoulder and holding onto the feeling of familiarity.
‘How are things?’ he asked when they let go of one another.
‘Well.’
Taking his hand, she pulled him to a sofa at one side of the room where they could talk more privately.
She told Phillip about the ball last evening.
When John entered the room a little later, she did not look up.
Nor did she look at him through dinner. He was at the opposite end of the table to her, and Phillip was beside her. She talked endlessly to Phillip, though.
He told her John had offered him work. He told her their father had written back to him and asked him to watch over her and ensure she was happy, and that Jenny had sent congratulations too.
When they finished eating, John’s mother stood, and Katherine realised it should have been her role to notice it was time for the women to leave. She had so much to learn, and remember. She finally looked at John. He was rising out of respect because his mother and his elder sisters had done so. He smiled at her as she stood too, as much as his scabbed lip allowed. She smiled back.
How was she to help him simply be himself when he would be out every day, beyond her reach?
Taking the reins of responsibility from his mother, Katherine led the women from the room, leaving the men to their port and cigars.
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John walked into the drawing room an hour later. Edward had sent John’s brothers up to bed after a quarter-hour. Once they had gone the conversation had turned to Wareham. Then they lost track of time and stayed at the table longer than normal. Meaning John felt as though he had let Katherine down a fifth time.
He was struck by a domestic tableau as he entered.
Katherine was sitting at his grandmother’s pianoforte. Her fingers running across the keys with significant ease. He had not known Kate could play.
John hated the damn thing. He had learned to play that instrument as a child.
He stopped just inside the room, motionless, unable to move as both Phillip and his father walked past. It was as though the sound flipped him back into the terror of his dreams. The wash of childhood insecurity swept through his veins, confusing his rational mind.What the hell is happening to me?He forced himself to walk on.I am not a snivelling child now. For God’s sake, stop this.
