Page 34 of An Offer for a Spinster
“If you encourage him, he’ll make you an offer before the year is up. You’ll be married and settled, with your own money and his into the bargain.”
“Actually, that is not quite true. He will have his money, and also mine. I will be a wife.”
“Don’t be so silly. That’s the way of the world, and you know it. Need I remind you why your marriage is so important?”
“Please do, Mama, I’d almost forgotten.”
The Duchess pressed her lips together into a tight, thin line. “This sort of wit does not become you. I hope you won’t treat Lord Barwood to this sort of nonsense. You mustencouragehim, Katherine. Men don’t like to imagine they’re dragging a girl down the aisle to the altar.”
Katherine privately thought that some gentlemen would not care one way or the other, but now was naturally not the time to bring this up.
“I’ll behave appropriately, Mama, I promise.”
On cue, the rattle of carriage wheels on the cobblestones drifted up from outside. She moved away from the mirror and over to the window, pulling back the curtains to see.
A fine new curricle was pulling up outside, a two-horse gig with an unnervingly high perch. It was only large enough for two people, with a spot on the back where a poor chaperone would have to perch. Katherine herself would have to squeeze onto the seat beside Lord Barwood, who was currently leaping down to the pavement and smoothing out his fine waistcoat. He took a moment to admire himself in a window, patting his hair.
Katherine waited to feel something, remembering the flutter she’d felt in her chest the first moment she met him.
There was nothing. Not just the absence of emotion, but a faint flicker of disgust. Of anger. If she went downstairs now and told him how much she disliked promenading, would he agree to cancel the outing?
No, of course not.
“You can’t keep him waiting,” the Duchess said, sounding peevish. “Go on, go downstairs.”
Katherine’s legs moved her mechanically, along the hallway and down the stairs to the foyer, where a well-dressed Lord Barwood waited to greet her. He had a new coat, she noticed, with a respectably fashionable three capes, and she watched his gaze flick down her figure. Assessing, she thought, to make sure she was dressed finely and fashionably enough to be seen with him.
Apparently, her clothing met with his approval. Glancing up at her, he smiled, holding out a hand.
“Ready to go, Lady Katherine?”
Smile, she reminded herself. It was a false smile, but that didn’t seem to bother him very much.
“Of course.”
“It’s a little chilly out there, and I intend to drive fast, so I’m glad to see you well wrapped-up. Shall we go?”
It wasn’t a question, so Katherine did not respond. They went out to the curricle, and she climbed unsteadily up onto the seat. Lord Barwood sat beside her, flashed a grin, and snapped the reins. And then they were off, with nothing for her to do but keep her eyes fixed ahead and not at the ground rushing past beneath them.
He really does drive too fast,she thought sourly, as they darted past a slow-moving stagecoach, making the curricle tip worryingly to one side.
He was talking about something or other, but Katherine was not listening. Frankly, her conversation that morning with Elizabeth had left her shaken. Trust Elizabeth to say something that nobody else would.
I do not have feelings for Timothy,she told herself firmly.He’s a kind, caring gentleman, and I am glad to spend time with him. He’s my brother’s friend, and a good man into the bargain. I daresay he just feels sorry for me, being escorted around by Lord Barwood. No point thinking it’s otherwise.
No point getting my hopes up.
That last thought gave Katherine something of a shock. Ofcourseshe wasn’thopingthat Timothy had feelings for her. And if he had, well, why would he not have said or done something to make them clear? Why shrink into the background the way he often did?
No, Timothy was nothing but a kind man. Lord Barwood was the one with an interest in Katherine.
She shot a sideways glance at the man in question, feeling a lump rising to her throat.
I don’t love him,she thought wearily.I don’t know if I ever could. But time is indeed running out. Who else is there?
Chapter Eleven
“Let me be clear, Timothy,” Lord Rustford said, in a low and terrible voice, “I am notaskingthis of you. I am telling you it must be done.”
