Page 64 of What's a Duke Got to Do With It
Bridling turned to his father, the same fury from before back on his face. “I can, and I shall. I should have stood up to you long ago where Mirabel was concerned, instead of wasting time trying to make you understand that my heart shall never belong to another.” His lip curled. “But you never cared about that, did you? Just as you never cared what Diane might want for her own life, instead foisting her off on the largest title you could find.” He turned to Sebastian with a sheepish look. “My apologies, Ramsleigh. Nothing personal, you understand.”
“No offense taken,” Sebastian muttered, even as his mind spun like a child’s top trying to make sense of it all.
But one thing he did not have to make sense of was his feelings for Katrina. And that a future with her was finally possible.
Before he could claim that future, however, there was one person embroiled in this whole mess he had to confront. He turned to her now, dreading what was to come for all he respected her. “Miss Bridling—” he began.
But that woman was faster than him by far. “No, please, Your Grace. Let me speak. There is something I have been aching to say to you since you left London all those weeks ago. While my father was under the impression that I accompanied him to make certain your proposal was completed, in actuality I came to break things off with you. The last time we saw one another and you asked me my favorite color, it may have been a simple question, yet after much rumination it made me realize that perhaps I deserve so much more.”
“You do,” her brother said fervently. “You absolutely do.”
“Rubbish!” their father spat. “A child’s place is to obey their parents and do as they’re told.”
“No,” Bridling said, with a maturity and confidence that Sebastian had never witnessed in him before, “it is not. Our place is to live happy and fulfilling lives.”
“Happy and fulfilling, eh?” Cartmel demanded. “We’ll see how happy and fulfilled you are when you are cut off without a penny to your name.”
That, it seemed, was Lady Tesh’s cue to intervene. “I have given safe haven to more than one young person in need of support and a place to stay,” she declared, giving Cartmel a disgusted look before smiling in encouragement at the Bridling siblings. “I daresay I can do it again. Especially as,” she continued, arching one brow at Sebastian, “I may be losing my companion?”
Katrina. Dear God, where the devil was she? Before he could so much as breathe a word in question, Bridling spoke up.
“I dropped her off at the vicarage, at her request,” he said softly. “You can find her there. Use my carriage; it is already in the front drive.”
“Good luck, Your Grace,” Miss Bridling said, with a smile warmer than any he had ever seen from her.
Sebastian did not need further encouragement. Taking Miss Bridling’s hand in his, pressing it in thanks, he was soon out the door, racing for the stables. Had everything that he had been working toward unraveled? Yes. Would there be hardships in this unfinished plan he had mapped out in his head? Also yes.
But with Katrina by his side, he felt he could do anything. As long as they were together.
Chapter 21
Just knock, Katrina. You can do it.
Katrina took a deep breath, peeking out from the shrubbery she was hiding behind for what must have been the hundredth time. The vicarage was just across the road, the two-story stone house a perfect match to the ancient stone church close by, candles glowing through the rippled glass of the windows as evening took hold of the land. There was the front door she had walked through more times than she could count, the fenced garden where Honoria had spent so many hours tending to her late mother’s roses, the small wooden structure where Emmeline’s chickens clucked sleepily.
And, somewhere inside, Mr. Gadfeld no doubt busy scribbling away this Sunday’s sermon about how loose women who allowed men into their bedroom windows were destined to burn in hellfire for all eternity.
She was tempted to turn tail and flee. Not that it was any different from the last thirty minutes as she attempted to build up the courage to knock on that familiar door and confront the man who had worked so hard at making her life hell. But the longer she waited the harder it would be to move her leaden feet forward.
Mouse, it seemed, was of the same mind, and as exasperated with her as she was with herself. Giving a huff, he shoved his nose into her hip.
“I know, darling,” she murmured. “I know.” Looking down into his large brown eyes, so solemn as he gazed up at her, she attempted a smile. But it was a weak thing, and died before finding purchase. So many emotions had torn through her throughout this long, horrible day. From heartbreak at being in Sebastian’s company, to devastation when Mr. Gadfeld verbally attacked her; then in quick succession, shock when she believed Mr. Bridling to be proposing, relief when she learned he was merely being dramatic in his wish for her counsel regarding Miss Hutton, and determination when she decided to accompany him on his travels. Her plan had been simple: have him take a small detour to her brother’s home near Lincoln on his way back to London, where she would finally take the proverbial bull by the horns and force Francis to acknowledge her existence.
But when they were finally on their way, and Katrina had a moment to think as the carriage had trundled toward the ferry that would take them to the mainland, she had realized that she did not want to go where she was not wanted, was tired of trying to insert herself in the life of a person who had cut her out of his life as completely and irrevocably as the doctor who had cut off Francis’s arm. No, she wanted to fight, to stay where she was loved. Lady Tesh loved her. And the Oddments loved her.
And Sebastian loved her.
She shook her head fiercely to dislodge the painful thought. Yes, though he had not said the words she was certain he loved her. But he had other people to consider, people whose entire lives were riding on his marriage to Miss Bridling. She could not be the source of heartache and ruin for him.
But she could fight for this life she had built on Synne. And that began with confronting the one person who had attempted to destroy that life.
Setting her jaw, she reached for the bag at her feet and hefted it up, taking Mouse’s lead in her other hand. “Come along, Mouse,” she said as, with a focused glare on the vicarage through the growing gloom, she stalked across the road and through the gate, up to the heavy oak door.
Katrina expected the pinch-faced housekeeper to answer her knock. What she did not expect, however, was the vicar himself to throw open the door almost immediately. Nor did she expect the look of wild hope in his eyes—followed by a despair quickly banked as he saw who was at his door.
“Miss Denby,” he muttered. “What are you doing here?”
Keep calm.The man would not react well if she attacked him on the spot. And besides, she realized belatedly as she took in his unkempt appearance, he looked strangely frazzled, his typical cool composure cracked beyond recognition. His thinning hair had a flyaway look to it, his clerical collar was crooked. But more disturbing was the look of brokenness in his eyes. What had happened to shake the man to such a degree?
