Page 59 of What's a Duke Got to Do With It
But she had been a fool to think she could get past it so easily, that she would be able to put it behind her and forget.
Drawing in a shaky breath, she made her own way toward the door. She would retire to her room for the next hour and allow herself to fall apart and soak in her grief. And when that hour was through, she would do what she always did: she would pick herself up and put herself back together and move forward.
By the following afternoon, however, Katrina was coming to the sobering realization that moving forward would be much more difficult than she had hoped.
Not that she had thought it would be a simple walk in the park. None of the upheavals in her life had been easy to move on from, after all. But living, for however short a time, under the same roof as Sebastian was taking its toll on her. Especially when he stood in a beam of sunshine as he was just across the drive with Mouse and Mr. Bridling, the afternoon light making the faint auburn highlights in his hair glow and showcasing the impressive breadth of his shoulders. Despite herself, she let out a forlorn little exhale.
“Sighing again, eh, Miss Denby?” Lady Tesh murmured.
“My apologies, my lady,” Katrina replied, jerking her gaze from Sebastian as she secured Freya more comfortably in her arms—arms that were beginning to ache for how long she had been holding the dog. They had been standing in the drive for an inordinately long time, waiting for their guests so they could depart for the Elven Pools. While Lady Tesh could not accompany them—the path to reach the pools was too difficult for the dowager to access—she had insisted on being present to see them off. Even Katrina was to join in on the outing, at the dowager’s insistence. No matter how desperately she had tried to get out of it after her break with Sebastian the day before.
But the time to depart had come and gone some half hour past, and still there was no sign of the Mishras, Lady Paulette and her brothers, or Honoria and her relations. “I was simply wondering where the others were,” Katrina finished.
From the deep divot between the dowager’s brows as she turned to scan the empty drive, it was obvious she was wondering that very same thing. But besides the faint jangle of tackle from Lady Tesh’s waiting carriages, the low rumble of male voices as Sebastian and Mr. Bridling spoke, and the distant roar of waves crashing against the cliffs below the house, there was not a sound.
“Mayhap the invitations did not have the correct time?” Katrina ventured. Though even she was not consoled by such a thought. Lady Tesh was frighteningly competent and thorough; she would not have made a mistake of that magnitude.
“Perhaps,” the dowager replied unconvincingly. “Mr. Bridling,” she called. “Did your friends say anything when you saw them last night, some indication that they would not join us today?”
That man, who had been talking in a low voice to Sebastian, tension bracketing his mouth, appeared not to hear the dowager at first. His mood had seemed to change since yesterday afternoon, his typical bright cheerfulness having turned to melancholy. At Katrina’s side, Lady Tesh called out again, repeating her question. Mr. Bridling started, looking the dowager’s way before striding across the drive toward them. “My apologies, my lady. I did not hear you at first. No, they did not say a word. They seemed quite eager for the excursion, in fact.”
“Hmm, peculiar,” the dowager murmured.
Sebastian approached, and it took every bit of Katrina’s willpower not to look his way. “If you would like, I can ride into town. Lord Wesley and Lord Martin and Lady Paulette are staying at a house in Knighthead Crescent; I can visit there first.”
Before Lady Tesh could answer, however, a sudden rhythmic thundering sounded from the road leading to Seacliff. Had their guests arrived then? But it did not take long to recognize that this was not some cart and pony, or a carriage, or even a group of riders. No, this was one single rider approaching.
And then the visitor cleared the tree line, and Katrina’s stomach dropped.
“Mr. Gadfeld,” Katrina breathed through a throat gone tight with anxiety. She had not seen Honoria’s father since before the scandal, when he had begun to openly smear her reputation to all and sundry. Hands suddenly shaking, she quickly deposited Freya on the ground before reaching for Mouse as, no doubt sensing her anxiety, he moved close to her and pressed into her side.
“What in God’s name is the vicar doing here?” Lady Tesh asked.
It seemed, however, that Mr. Gadfeld was not going to make them wonder for long. “Lady Tesh,” he called out as he pulled his horse to a stop and swung down from the saddle, “you may cease your waiting, for no one is coming. I have made certain to warn the guardians of each of the young people you have been coercing to join you just what a damaging influence you are having on them.”
“Mr. Gadfeld,” Lady Tesh said, her voice shaking in her outrage, “you had no right. No right at all.”
“I had every right,” the man shot back as he approached the dowager, his steps angry on the gravel drive. “Just what do you think you are about encouraging my girls to lie to me?”
Before the man could reach Lady Tesh, however, Sebastian was there, stepping between them. “Forgive me, sir,” he said, his calm tone doing nothing to hide the danger roiling beneath the surface, “but I don’t believe we have been introduced. I am Sebastian Thorne, Duke of Ramsleigh, and this gentleman here is Mr. Harlow Bridling.” Here he motioned to Mr. Bridling, who, after his initial moment of alarm, stepped up beside Sebastian to form a sort of wall before the vicar.
“We are guests of Lady Tesh,” Sebastian continued, crossing his arms over his chest. “And as such, we demand you treat the dowager viscountess with all the respect she is warranted.”
But Mr. Gadfeld, it seemed, was too outraged to take heed of the warning in Sebastian’s voice. “I shall give her respect when she earns it. And coercing my daughters and nieces into lying to me to go on outings withthat creature”—here he pointed Katrina’s way, making her gasp and stumble back—“is beyond the pale.”
So stunned was Katrina by Mr. Gadfeld’s words, she was at first insensible to everything else. It was not until Mouse’s body vibrated against her side with a low, guttural growl that Katrina was able to tear her eyes away from the vicar to look at her pet. His hackles were raised, his ears flat against his head. But it was his eyes that had the breath leaving her body. They appeared as if they were on fire, and focused unerringly on Mr. Gadfeld as that man glared up at Sebastian. She had never seen her pet in such a state. He had never possessed a violent bone in his body, and she had feared more than once that if she was ever set upon by footpads, he would be more than happy to shower them with kisses rather than go in for a proper attack.
Yet here he was, looking as if he were about to leap upon the vicar and tear him limb from limb. Curling her fingers tight around his thick leather collar, she held on for all she was worth as she looked wildly at Sebastian’s back. His shoulders were tense under the fine deep blue wool of his coat, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. But it was his voice that had her instinctively shrinking back; it was filled with even more danger than Mouse’s low growl.
“If I ever hear you speaking of the young lady in such a way,” he said, the rumble of his voice vibrating the very air with raw, dark electricity, “you shall pay for the insult.”
Mr. Gadfeld’s eyes, which had been narrowed in fury, widened with outrage. “You would not threaten a man of the cloth.”
“Oh, I most certainly would,” Sebastian said. “And it appears Miss Denby’s pet is ready and willing as well.”
Lady Tesh, apparently having had enough, stepped between Sebastian and Mr. Bridling, cane swinging as she motioned them to the sides. “Mr. Gadfeld,” she snapped, “as a man of the cloth, you should be the first to show grace in any situation. Your treatment of my companion has been grossly unfair.”
Though he looked askance at Sebastian and Mouse, no doubt to make certain they were remaining in their places, the vicar did not look the least bit cowed. “I cannot condone such a person flaunting her scandals in my parish,” he said to Lady Tesh, looking down his hooked nose at her. “And I refuse to allow this Jezebel around young, impressionable girls like my daughters and nieces. You would do well to fire her immediately before she completely destroys your standing in this community.”
