Page 124 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke
He could not walk away from this life, could he? He had a duty to fulfil.
‘You cannot show weakness, Sayle. People will make a mockery of you. They will walk all over you, boy, if you do not show them who is master.’ He had heard that and similar warnings from his grandfather many times.
It irritated him further that the men who dared ask Katherine to dance were all rakes, because anyone wholly respectable was reserving judgement in the current circumstances. Any other time he would tell them to go away, but tonight she needed all the support she could get. Yet he knew these men thought her good game. The history of her birth had only piqued their interest further and they would all willingly cuckold him, just to knock him down a peg or two.
In the carriage on the way home, he and Katherine were silent, while Mary, who did not know about Wareham’s published letter, excitedly reviewed the night.
He supposed it was a blessing no one had excluded Mary too. She could have been caught up in it. Thank heavens she was not.
His thoughts drifted to Wareham. The man was out there somewhere. John had agreed with Harvey they would hire three dozen more men to find him.
His eyes turned to Katherine. Her lips were pursed and her chin up. A storm would break when they were alone. Would they ever achieve an evening in society without her finding fault with him?
John climbed out of the carriage first when they arrived and handed his mother and Mary down, then Katherine. He kept hold of Kate’s hand and led her to the door, as his father followed her out.
In the hall, they said goodnight to the others and walked on to their rooms in ominous silence. When he shut the door he turned to face her. ‘Now, pray, tell me what is it you are riled over exactly?’
She did not speak as his fingers worked loose the knot of his cravat. John turned to a decanter. Once his cravat was loose he tossed it over the back of a chair, then poured himself a port. He took a sip, then put the glass down and took off his evening coat and threw that over the chair too.
Sipping from the glass again, he undid his waistcoat and left it hanging open. She was still silent. He faced her, intensely annoyed.
She was watching him. She was supposed to be his solace, his supporter. He was not supposed to receive condemnation from her, not in his own home.
He sat in an armchair before the hearth, leaned back in the seat and raised one ankle to the other knee. Then, regarding her, he lifted one eyebrow, another affectation he had picked up from his grandsire. ‘If you have something to say, Katherine…?’
She walked past him and took the chair opposite, staring at the fire, not him.
‘Spit it out then. Have at me, girl. You are obviously dying to.’
She shook her head, got back up and walked away.
She probably thought he would follow. He did not. He was in no mood to play lapdog. He did not even look as he heard the door to the bedchamber open. She would be fleeing to her rooms.
Katherine considered retiring to her own rooms, but she did not. It would be cowardice to do so. Instead she undressed quietly, and not even wishing to leave for a moment in case he came in and locked her out, she borrowed one of his shirts to wear as a nightgown.
John did not come in. She did not go back to him either. There was no point in talking to him when he was dressed in ducal armour, he would not listen.
Eventually she fell asleep.
When she woke John was in bed beside her, and he was breathing heavily, dreaming.
She listened for a moment, hearing his breath fracture on a sudden gasp and then he was awake, sitting up and turning to sit at the edge of the bed, panting before sucking in a deeper breath. She touched his back. It was damp with sweat.
He pulled away. It was probably deserved after she had cut him earlier.
‘John?’
He leaned forward and rested his head in his hands.
After a moment he stood and then moved across the dark room.
‘Where are you going?’ she whispered.
‘Downstairs,’ he growled as he picked up his dressing gown.
She slid off the bed in pursuit, and reached him before he got to the door, hugging him, wrapping her arms about his midriff and pressing her cheek against his back.
He stilled for a moment but then his hands pulled hers loose. ‘Leave me alone.’
