Page 27 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke
I want you.
If she was playing games, well, he had learned them from the she-wolves abroad, he knew how to play.
‘Katherine,’ he stated, in a deeper, warmer pitch, reminding her they were not strangers.
She blushed, because John had let the reverend know he was not the only one who had permission to call her by her given name. Though, she had never actually given John permission, he had assumed the right based on their childhood friendship.
He faced the vicar. ‘Reverend Barker,’ he said, then left them.
* * *
It had been three days since John felt Katherine slip into complete abandon in the church’s chancel chapel. Since then thoughts of kissing her had filled his mind. His whole body ached with need for her, and at night she occupied his every dream.
It irritated him immensely whenever he thought of her with the reverend. But she had kissed John, she could not therefore wish for a pious man of the cloth. John strode on along Maidstone’s pavement and shoved all thoughts of Kate aside. He had a job to do. He had scoured the accounts and found nothing unusual. So now he was resorting to asking Pembroke Place’s suppliers about Wareham’s business practices.
He had also visited some of his tenants and asked if they had any problems with the management of their tenancies. No one had complained.
As John walked he received bows and curtsies in acknowledgement. He nodded at the people noting his presence, his now habitual lack of patience wearing thin. He knew now why his grandfather had never walked anywhere. John set his jaw and kept going. But then his gaze alighted on one person he was pleased to see. Katherine.
Warmth and light swept into the cold arid darkness inside him.
She was on the far side of the street, standing outside a hat shop, looking in through the window, her arms filled with a pile of parcels. Her profile was perfect, with her round-tipped nose, and her slightly parted rose-coloured lips. He crossed the cobbled street, ignoring other passers-by as a primal hunger roared.
‘Katherine.’ He took the last step and touched her elbow.
She started and spun around, her eyes wide. ‘Y-your Grace.’
‘It seems I surprise you every time,’ he said quietly. She was blushing again.
‘I-I’m sorry.’
He looked to where she had been looking and saw a pretty bonnet dressed with ornamental cherries and a cerise pink ribbon. Mary thought the mode for fruit on a bonnet absurd. Katherine obviously did not.
‘Your Grace?’ he said. ‘If the reverend is Richard, Katherine, I think I might remain John. We have known each other for years.’ Her wide turquoise blue eyes stared back, but she said nothing. ‘What is going on between the two of you anyway?’ The question had been rattling about in John’s head for days.
‘N-nothing, I…’
‘Nothing? You said he drives you home every Sunday. Have you an agreement with him?’
‘An agreement?’ Her eyes kept glancing into the shop.
‘Are you promised to him?’
She turned a deeper pink as she looked back at him. ‘No.’ She had not shown any embarrassment with the reverend.
He suddenly remembered she was holding parcels. ‘Allow me.’ He lifted them out of her arms. Where was her groom or maid? Phillip’s family were not high society but nor were they low. Her father was the local squire; he employed servants.
‘Who is with you?’
‘My mother is in the shop.’
He looked through the shop window and saw her mother and younger sister sifting through a drawer of ribbons.Why was she not in the shop with them?‘Have you finished shopping…’ he posed aloud.
Her skin flushed a scarlet red, but she said nothing.
‘Where is your groom?’ That was who should be carrying the parcels.
‘He is waiting in the livery stable.’
