Page 44 of What's a Duke Got to Do With It
“That is not what I wish to discuss at all, and you know it,” her friend said quietly. She laid a gentle hand on Katrina’s arm. “Is something going on between you and the duke?”
Ah, God, she had forgotten that Adelaide had witnessed her holding hands with Sebastian. It would not be as easy to deflect this particular issue, of course. But deflect she must try.
“He was merely concerned for me is all. He saw I was not feeling well, and was attempting to comfort me.”
But Adelaide did not look the least bit convinced. “That is not what it looked like, Katrina. It appeared as if there might be something… more going on between the two of you.”
“His Grace is engaged,” Katrina replied tightly. “Or very nearly, which to me, as you well know, is as good as being engaged. Especially since he and the young woman and her family all seem to have an understanding. Nothing can happen between the duke and I.”
But Katrina’s attempt to distract her friend failed, miserably. “Which is a very convenient way of skirting the question,” Adelaide murmured.
Katrina pulled Mouse close to her side and nervously rubbed at his silky ears. “The duke and I have determined that nothing shall happen between us.”
Adelaide raised one black eyebrow. “You are getting closer. Try again.”
Sighing, Katrina let out a small growl of frustration. “Very well. We kissed. Are you happy now?”
But Adelaide did not look the least bit happy. In fact, the expression in her eyes could only be described as mournful. “No, actually, I’m not. What happened, Katrina?”
The memory of his arms about her, of his mouth on hers, nearly overwhelmed her then. Dragging in a deep breath, she managed, “It does not matter what happened. But it did not go past a kiss, and we both agreed it would not happen again.”
Adelaide was quiet for a moment, though to Katrina her silence was louder than the clamor of carriages and conversation surrounding them. Finally she spoke.
“Mayhap it would be best if you stay with one of us for the time being.”
Despite herself, Katrina could not tamp down the hurt that surged in her like a tidal wave. “You don’t trust me to even be in the same house as the duke?”
“It is not that, dearest,” Adelaide hurried to say. “Of course I trust you. It is the duke I don’t trust. He is virile, and powerful, and though I know Lady Tesh will do all in her power to protect you, when a man of his station takes it in his mind to do something there is not much that can stop him.”
The one small, reasonable part of Katrina’s brain knew that her friend was only worried for her and was trying to help. But it was overshadowed by outrage, and a powerful urge to protect Sebastian. “The duke has never been anything but proper to me,” she said heatedly. “He would never take advantage of me. He is the kindest, the gentlest, the most considerate man I have ever known, and I won’t have you thinking such horrid things about him.”
Which, she realized after the words had left her mouth, had probably not been the wisest thing to say, for Adelaide was gaping at her like a fish on market day.
“Oh my goodness, Katrina,” she whispered. “You are falling in love with the duke.”
Katrina blanched.Of course she wasn’t.The words should be easy enough to say. They were already there, tripping up her throat.
Yet she couldn’t seem to force them past her lips. Why? Yes, she had already been well on her way to loving him four years ago. And yes, it was true she desired him now. Their kiss had been proof of that—as well as the sleepless nights she spent thinking of him, and the way her body fairly hummed when he entered a room.
But she was also painfully aware that allowing herself to continue that falling in love with him would be a horrible mistake. Why, then, did the words denouncing any such feelings lodge in her throat like a cherry pit?
In the end she finally managed, through numb lips, “He has only been here a week,” hoping it would suffice to squash any such thoughts of her being in love with Sebastian.
Once again, her friend did not look the least convinced. “Yet another non-answer. I am well aware that you knew the duke four years ago during your time in London.”
Knowing she had effectively trapped herself in a corner, Katrina closed her eyes and rubbed at the back of her aching skull, hoping to relieve some of the headache that had come upon her so suddenly. “It doesn’t matter what I may or may not feel for the duke,” she rasped. “He is preparing to marry Mr. Bridling’s sister. There is no use in us talking about it further. And please don’t mention any of this to the others. I wouldn’t wish for them to worry. Now, shouldn’t we be heading inside? They will be wondering where we are.”
So saying, she tightened her hands on Mouse’s lead and headed back to the Quayside. Adelaide, after only a moment’s hesitation, followed. But as Katrina made her way back to the blue curtain, all the while trying not to notice just how few patrons were within the circulating library—or that Honoria was conspicuously absent from Seraphina’s office when she opened that door—she knew she would have to work doubly hard at hiding her affections for Sebastian to keep her friends from suspecting he was more to her than he should be.
Chapter 15
If there was one thing Sebastian didn’t expect when he entered Bridling’s room the following afternoon, it was to see him furiously scribbling away at his desk.
It’s not that he had never seen the boy write… or had he? Truthfully he couldn’t recall ever seeing Bridling with a quill in his hands. Or in possession of a book. Not that they had spent an inordinate amount of time together; before this trip, they had never been what one would call close, or even true acquaintances. In fact, Sebastian had barely seen the boy during the few events they had managed to attend together during the London season.
Even so, after having spent four days confined in a carriage for the drive here, as well as being in his company for more than a week since their arrival on Synne, he could not recall a single time he had witnessed Bridling doing anything remotely intellectual.
Bridling glanced up then, and a faint flush stained his cheeks. In the next moment he was hurriedly stuffing the paper he had been working on in the desk drawer.
