Page 40 of What's a Duke Got to Do With It
She thought of the group she had been part of in London, that collection of beautiful, fashionable young women that had invited her into their midst once she had begun to show the smallest bit of popularity. How she had loved to be part of something so glamorous and admired.
Yet how quickly they had abandoned her when the scandal broke. “Oh, they were not friends,” she said now, trying and failing to ignore the twinge of pain in her chest at the remembrance of all the letters she had written to them that had been returned unopened. “Not really. I never knew any of them outside those few months in London.”
He gazed at her soberly for a time. “And you had no friends before that trip?”
She shook her head, recalling those lonely days of her childhood. “No. Papa was of the mind that children, especially girl children, were no more important than a vase on the mantel, used for decoration and nothing more. He saw no need to court the friendship of what he saw as inferior neighbors for my benefit, and kept us quite sequestered in his supposed importance.”
He shook his head solemnly. “That is horrible.”
She shrugged. “Such was my life, I’m afraid. But I take it your sisters were not treated in such a way?”
“God no.” A small smile lifted his lips, his eyes turning inward. “Not that Rachel or Gracie would have allowed it. They have always been frighteningly outgoing and seemed to need socialization like they needed air to breathe. If the neighborhood children did not come to visit them, my sisters invariably were searching them out.”
“Oh, that sounds lovely.” She sighed. “I should have loved to have met them.”
“I wish you could meet them,” he murmured low. “I think they would adore you.”
“Would they?” she asked, much more earnestly than she had intended to.
But he did not seem to hear anything untoward. He smiled again. And then his hand found hers beneath the table, strong and comforting. “Absolutely.”
His eyes were full of some nameless emotion as he gazed at her, the warmth from his fingers on her own stealing through to her bones. A question formed in her mind then:And would you adore me as well?But she could not give voice to that, especially as the meaning of adoration from him was so different. Instead, unable to help herself, her thumb came up to caress the backs of his fingers.
The expression in his eyes changed in an instant, the nameless emotion that had been hovering in the misty gray depths dissipating to reveal a kind of light shining through the darkness. His breath hitched and his gaze caressed her face before dropping down to focus on her lips. Dear God, she wanted him to kiss her. No matter they were in public, she wanted nothing more than to have him close the distance between them and take her lips with his. She wanted to melt into his embrace and never, ever, emerge from it. Without meaning to, she began to sway toward him.
Adelaide’s overly bright voice rose up close to Katrina’s ear as a plate of biscuits was thrust between her and Sebastian.
“I do think you will like these, Your Grace,” her friend was saying. “Lemon poppy seed, a favorite of many of my customers.”
Katrina, startled, looked up into her friend’s brittle smile. But Adelaide wasn’t looking at her. No, she was looking down at Katrina’s hand—which was still entwined with Sebastian’s.
Blanching, Katrina hastily yanked her hand away. She had no idea what Sebastian’s reaction might be, however, for her entire focus was on Adelaide, who was looking back and forth between her and the duke with mounting concern.
“Adelaide—” Katrina began.
Her friend leaned forward, under pretense of pushing the plate of biscuits farther toward the center of the table, and brought her mouth close to Katrina’s ear. “We will talk about it later, when we have a moment in private.”
Nodding miserably, Katrina looked down to her lap. She knew her friend would not spread tales of her improper actions with Sebastian. Adelaide was loyal, and Katrina trusted her with her life.
But that did not mean she would not have words to say about this. Or that she would not get the other Oddments involved if she deemed it necessary. Katrina swallowed hard. And she did not want to think what her other friends might say about this, after all she had put them through in the last weeks.
Just then the bell above the door jingled, and Miss Pulman and her grandfather stepped into the Beakhead, like a sign from the heavens.
“Oh, Grandpapa,” Miss Pulman said brightly, “look who is here. Lady Tesh, so lovely to see you again. Your Grace, Mr. Bridling.” She nodded to each in turn before giving Katrina a stiff smile. “Miss Denby,” she muttered.
Her expression shifted back to her typical pleasant demeanor. “But I wanted to speak with you, Mr. Bridling, about your gallant saving of Lady Paulette just the other evening, and I was so very disappointed to miss you during my visit to Seacliff. Let me see that my grandfather is settled and I shall be right with you, for Imusthear the details from your very own lips.”
Which was an opportunity Katrina could not pass up. She stood, her chair scraping against the wooden floor. “Oh, but allow me to see to your grandfather’s comfort, Miss Pulman,” she said, “and you can take my seat for the time being.”
Miss Pulman blinked at her. “Oh, er, thank you, Miss Denby. That is most kind.”
In a moment Katrina was across the room, sidling up to the elderly Mr. Kendrick as his granddaughter slid into the empty seat beside Sebastian.
“Mr. Kendrick,” Katrina said with a wide smile as Miss Pulman exploded into raptures over a beaming Mr. Bridling at the other table, “how lovely to see you here this afternoon. I pray you’re doing well?”
“As well as can be,” the man bit out, grunting as he eased into a chair. He raised one wiry brow, his milky blue eyes glittering as he peered at her. “Though I daresay a sight better now that I have such lovely company. Especially as you would hardly give me the time of day before.”
Katrina, in the process of sitting across from the man and smoothing out her skirts, promptly choked on air. She rallied quickly, however, forcing a wide smile. “Now, that cannot possibly be true,” she prevaricated.
