Page 92 of The Scandalous Love of a Duke
‘It is Pembroke’s?’ her father said. He glanced at Phillip. ‘I told you.’
Then her mother was in the hall too. ‘What has she done?’
‘Is it him?’ Phillip said to Katherine.
‘What has happened?’ her mother asked.
And now Jenny was behind their mother, looking into the hall.
‘Is it?’ Phillip shouted, as though he needed to hear Katherine admit it.
‘Yes,’ she answered.
‘I told you to stay away from him!’ her father roared.
‘God, Kate, he has been favouring me. Is this why?’ Phillip breathed.
‘I do not understand?’ her mother cried.
‘Katherine?’ The last came from Jenny.
‘She is carrying John’s child,’ Phillip said bitterly as he looked at their mother.
‘I am sorry,’ Katherine whispered.
‘The bastard,’ Phillip said on his breath and then he turned and walked back out the door.
‘Phillip! Do nothing rash! Do not challenge him. Katherine will be to blame,’ her mother shouted. ‘Do not risk yourself for her!’
Phillip stopped, turning his anger on their mother ‘For her? If you had cared for her a little more, perhaps she would not have turned to John.’ Looking back at Katherine, he said, ‘Do not worry, I will sort this.’ Then he left.
Panic-stricken, Katherine turned in the opposite direction. She would not see either Phillip or John hurt because of her.
Her mother’s accusation ringing in her ears, Katherine fled back into the parlour, and when she reached the French door her fingers fumbled to free the lock.
‘Katherine!’ her father called from the hall.
She heard him coming as the lock clicked loose, and then she was gone.
She ran across the garden and through the back gate onto John’s land. She ran and ran, racing Phillip to Pembroke Place. He was in the curricle, but the route by road was much longer.
32
A noise came from downstairs, someone shouting. It was growing louder by the minute. ‘Where is that bastard? I know he’s here! Tell me!’
It was Phillip. This was John’s final justice. He would have done no less for Mary.
‘Where are you? You bastard!’ The cry now came from the hall. ‘Is he upstairs? No! Get off me!’ Some poor footman must have been thrown aside.
John was not going to hide from this. He went to the sitting room door and yelled into the hall, ‘Let him up!’
He had not yet dealt with the pain of her refusal. He had felt battered and beaten to have bared his soul only to be turned away. He could never match up to her bloody perfect reverend? He was flawed and chipped and broken in half. He had shown her his worst side. Taken her to the folly and… He should not have done that. How could she marry another man; he had been in her body?
He waited, listening to Phillip storm along the hall.
‘You son of a bitch!’ Phillip flew through the door on a whirlwind of anger and gripped John’s collar in one hand. The next thing John knew, he was on the floor and blood trickled from his nose and lip.
He moved to stand but Phillip kicked him down.
