Page 50 of What's a Duke Got to Do With It
“Mr. Young, you have not answered my question. What animal are you planning to destroy?”
Sebastian expected discomfort or guilt from the farmer. But no, the man was not done shocking him that day.
He raised one pale brow and gave Katrina a patronizing look down his nose. “You must see the wisdom of disposing of your pet. I have young children at home. I would not have them put in danger.”
“Mouse is not a danger to anyone,” she said through her teeth. Suddenly she paled, and shivered, her gaze going hazy—was she thinking of the accident with Lord Landon? But the alteration in her composure was brief as, rearranging her features to a calm he knew she did not feel if the slight shaking in her hands was any indication, she raised her chin and looked the farmer in the eye.
“I know we have come to something of an understanding regarding our futures,” she continued. “But the one thing I shall insist on is keeping Mouse. I will not budge on that, sir.”
The perpetually frigid temperature that seemed to envelop Mr. Young dropped like a stone, making his gaze positively icy as he stared down at Katrina. Every protective bone in Sebastian’s body was electrified, and it took never-before tapped willpower to keep himself from stepping between the two.You promised, you arse.
“I see, Miss Denby,” Mr. Young said, each word like icy needles, “that you are not the right fit for my family. It is bad enough you are a scandalous female. But your stubbornness on this matter proves that you are not the right caretaker for my children. Good day.”
But Sebastian had heard enough. Surely, now that things had ended between the two, he could step in. As the man made to move past them toward the horses, he reached out and gripped hard to his shoulder.
“I say!” the man sputtered, attempting to pull out from Sebastian’s grasp. “Release me at once.”
“I shall,” Sebastian drawled, “once I tell you that if you ever malign the lady again, you shall have me to answer to. Is that clear?”
Mouse chose that moment to move closer to Sebastian’s side. A low rumble vibrated from his deep chest, a sound that had the farmer’s eyes going from outraged to fearful in an instant.
Sebastian moved his face closer to the other man’s. “I said, is that clear?”
Mr. Young, gasping, nodded jerkily, stumbling out from under Sebastian’s grip and racing for the line of horses, Katrina’s shawl still gripped in his hands.
For a long moment neither Sebastian nor Katrina moved. The sounds of distant conversation and laughter were muffled by the bubble of tension they were mired in. Sebastian’s fury had dissipated immediately upon Young’s departure, leaving only guilt and regret in its wake for his part in the whole debacle. Finally, when Sebastian could stand the silence no longer, he attempted to speak.
“Katrina—”
“No,” she cut in, the quiet word as good as a shout. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply, her shoulders stiff and unyielding. Sebastian ached to step toward her and take her in his arms, to rub his hands over her back and shoulders and ease the strain from them.
But no, that was the very last thing he should do. Especially as, no matter that he had attempted to keep his promise to Katrina, he had still indirectly interfered, and was responsible for yet another suitor abandoning her. If he had not confronted the man about Mouse, no matter how briefly, no matter that he had retreated with the intention of letting Katrina handle it as she saw fit, she would not have overheard and would not now be in the position she was in.
When he thought he would surely snap in two from the strain, she suddenly drew in a deep, shuddering breath and turned to face him. Her eyes, those beautiful, clear blue eyes, were frighteningly flat and devoid of any emotion. It was worse than if she had been full of hate for him, and he wanted to weep.
“Katrina,” he rasped, “I am sorry—”
She held up a hand. “I have duties I must get back to,” she said, her voice a mere whisper. “We will talk later.”
With that she grabbed Mouse’s heavy leather collar, pulling the dog away as she headed back to the party. And Sebastian knew he had never hated himself more.
Chapter 17
The pendulum of emotions that Katrina experienced that long—oh so very long—day was exhausting. From anxiety to relief to anger to grief and back to relief again, she was left feeling the simultaneous urge to cry and curse and laugh until her sides ached. What horrible Shakespearean comedy of errors was she in, that something so ridiculous could happen to her in the space of hours? Was she the punch line in some horrible, cruel joke?
As the evening had progressed and she had begun to gain some distance from the mess of an afternoon, however, she had been able to look at it with a semblance of reason and clarity. Was she still angry at Sebastian for inserting himself again into her plans for her future? Absolutely. But she knew now he had been attempting to keep his promise to her, and had been in the process of stepping back when she had come upon him and Mr. Young.
Which, of course, only made her feel more conflicted. It was one thing to remain furious with Sebastian, focusing on her anger with him and nothing else. At least in that way she could keep her armor up, a hard shell shielding her from heartbreak.
But it was quite another to know he had been keeping his promise to her—no matter how bad he had been at it. That realization had her feeling raw, unable to ward off the inevitable pain.
But she could show none of her volatile emotions. Indeed, now more than ever she needed to keep a calm facade and pretend that nothing at all was wrong. Especially as her employer, the one person who stood between Katrina and complete ruination, seemed all too aware that something was horribly amiss.
Granted, Katrina would have been shocked if Lady Tesh had not noticed something momentous had occurred. The dowager was frighteningly observant, after all. And Katrina had not exactly been circumspect in her pitifully failed attempts to find a husband.
But now that Lady Tesh’s lady’s maid had finished readying her for bed and retired, and she had Katrina completely alone, there was nothing to stop her from quizzing Katrina to her heart’s content. Which she did, with frightening focus.
“I thought nothing of it when Mr. Finley asked you to dance and was quickly sent packing at the Assembly Rooms,” she began, spreading her coverlet over her lap. “I was mildly curious when the episode with Mr. Kendrick at the Beakhead occurred. But the situation revolving around Mr. Young over the past couple days has me wondering just what it is you’re up to, Miss Denby.”
