Page 36 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke
For a moment Wareham simply stared at John, his face devoid of all emotion.
John glanced towards the hall and yelled, ‘Finch!’ He had seen the butler a moment ago.
‘Do you think I want to serve you?’
‘You need not now.’
‘While you have idled abroad, I have built up these estates.’
‘Your Grace?’ Finch appeared.
‘Mr Wareham is leaving. Immediately. Please ask some of the grooms to escort him from the grounds. You may pack his things and send them on, and ensure he takes nothing which belongs to my estates. Have some of the grooms escort him.’
John looked at Wareham. ‘You may send Finch your address when you have found somewhere to stay.’ Then he turned and left the room.
The key cut into his palm as his fist clenched, while the maids and footmen bowed and curtsied as he walked along the corridor. John would be known as a tyrant now, for dismissing his steward simply because it had taken too long to find a key. John felt his prison cell slam shut. He was trapped in a life he had not chosen. Darkness and isolation engulfed him as he stepped into the courtyard.
I want Katherine.
At least he was going to her, something he had chosen. Someone who had asked for nothing from him, she had even tried to reject the one item he had bought for her.
* * *
John was breathing heavily when he reached the tower, having ridden hard to get there, fighting the rage lingering in his blood.
It was a square, red-bricked building which stood in a clearing, on the brow of a shallow hill and it reached fifty feet upwards, stretching towards the sky like the Tower of Babel.
He had come here often as a child, though he was told never to play here. He had stolen the key to come in secret and be alone. He would climb up to the square room at the very top and look down on the world, thinking himself like God, imagining he could order things as he wished. He had always wanted to turn back time and know his mother from his birth, and stop his father’s death. Not even Philip had known when he had come here.
As he climbed the slope towards the entrance, Katherine emerged from the trees on the other side. His heart struck harder in his chest. She was wearing the same tired spencer he had seen twice before, and the bonnet he had bought her.
She smiled.
The warmth of it filled him, his anger and sadness evaporating.
‘You are late,’ she accused, her eyes searching his.
He took her hand, and kissed the back of her shabby kid leather glove. ‘I was caught up in business.’
‘I thought it was some horrid joke you were playing on me, like Phillip used to do. I thought you would not come and then laugh over the fact I was fool enough to think you serious.’
‘That was never me.’
Her blue eyes were in shadow beneath the brim of her bonnet and she looked nervous although she was smiling.
He was desperate to make this good for her, to prove to himself he was neither a monster nor a tyrant. She could see into him. She knew him. ‘I will not hurt you, Katherine.’
He set the key in the lock and turned it. The stiff door creaked open.
His hand still holding hers, he drew her in, then locked the door behind them. The stairs were steep and numerous. Her fingers clung to his as they climbed.
When they reached the top of the stairs he let go of her hand, opened the door and let her enter first.
Once inside she turned to him breathless from the climb, and smiled.
The room had windows along all four sides. It was flooded with light and the view stretched across four counties.
Impatient, he caught her about the waist, drew her into his arms and kissed her gently, his lips brushing against hers.
