Page 52 of A Rogue to Resist
“Most unusual,” Lord Barrington commented. “Though I suppose a transitional period is to be expected. Once Greythorne marries, naturally, such arrangements will conclude.”
Katherine’s grip tightened on her fork. “I wouldn’t presume to speak for Lord Greythorne’s future plans.”
“No, indeed,” Lord Barrington agreed, oblivious to her rising irritation. “Though I understand the entail’s provisions make his marriage rather urgent. Lady Elizabeth seems particularly well-suited, wouldn’t you agree? Such a charming young woman, and from an excellent family.”
Katherine glanced across the table, where Lady Elizabeth was touching Drake’s arm again, her face tilted up to his in an expression of rapt attention.
“She appears...enthusiastic,” Katherine managed, aware that her tone bordered on acidic.
At that precise moment, Drake glanced up, his eyes meeting hers across the crystal and silver. Something in his expression—a flash of what might have been frustration or even boredom—gave Katherine an unexpected jolt of satisfaction. Perhaps he wasn’t enjoying Lady Elizabeth’s attentions quite as much as it appeared.
The thought was immediately followed by a wave of confusion.
Why should Drake’s enjoyment or lack thereof matter to her? If anything, she should hope Lady Elizabeth pleased him. A suitable match would secure Greythorne’s future and simplify their own working relationship.
Yet as she watched Lady Elizabeth lean even closer to Drake, her hand lingering on his arm, Katherine was forced to acknowledge that her feelings on the matter were far from simple or practical.
The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of courses and conversation, with Katherine maintaining the barest minimum of civility toward Lord Barrington while her attention remained fixated on Drake and his dinner companions. Her irritation mounted as Lady Elizabeth’s flirtation grew more obvious, culminating in a moment when the young woman actually fed Drake a bite of dessert from her own plate, laughing delightedly at her own daring.
By the time the ladies withdrew to the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen to their port, Katherine’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point. She positioned herself by the window, ostensibly admiring the view of the garden but actually seeking a moment’s respite from the stifling atmosphere of matchmaking that permeated the gathering.
“He’s not interested in her, you know,” Rosabel’s voice came quietly from beside her.
Katherine started, turning to find her sister-in-law watching her with knowing eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Lord Greythorne,” Rosabel clarified, though they both knew it was unnecessary. “He’s been perfectly polite to Lady Elizabeth, but there’s no genuine interest there.”
“His interest or lack thereof is none of my concern,” Katherine replied, striving to sound indifferent.
Rosabel’s lips curved in a small, knowing smile. “Is it not? You’ve barely taken your eyes from him all evening.”
Katherine felt heat rise to her cheeks. “I was merely...observing his interactions with potential brides. His choice will affect Greythorne’s future, which naturally concerns me.”
“Naturally,” Rosabel agreed, her tone making it clear she believed nothing of the sort. “And I’m certain your reaction to Lady Elizabeth’s rather obvious flirtation was purely professional concern.”
“She was being ridiculous,” Katherine said before she could stop herself. “Feeding him dessert as though he were a child or a pet. It was undignified.”
“And it bothered you,” Rosabel observed quietly. “More than it would if your interest were merely in Greythorne’s management.”
Katherine opened her mouth to deny it, then closed it again. Lying to herself was one thing; lying to Rosabel, who knew her better than perhaps anyone, was quite another.
“I don’t understand it,” she admitted in a low voice. “I have no desire to remarry. None whatsoever. And yet the thought of him marrying someone else...”
“Makes you jealous,” Rosabel finished for her when Katherine trailed off.
“Concerned,” Katherine corrected, though the distinction felt hollow even to her own ears. “He deserves better than a simpering miss who views him as nothing more than a title and fortune.”
“As would you,” Rosabel said gently. “Not all men are like Edmund, Katherine. Some are capable of genuine partnership, of seeing a woman’s value beyond her decorative qualities or social connections.”
Before Katherine could formulate a response to this uncomfortably perceptive observation, the drawing room doors opened to admit the gentlemen. Her gaze immediately sought Drake, finding him engaged in conversation with James near the entrance.
As though sensing her attention, he glanced up, his eyes meeting hers across the room. For a moment, they simply looked at each other, a silent communication that felt more intimate than any conversation they had shared.
Then Lady Elizabeth appeared at Drake’s side, reclaiming his attention with a light touch to his arm and a tilt of her golden head. Katherine watched as he turned back to the younger woman, his expression politely attentive once more.
And there it was again—that sharp, unreasonable stab of jealousy that no amount of rationalization could dispel.
“I need a moment,” Katherine said abruptly to Rosabel. “Some air, perhaps.”
