Page 32 of Gallant Waif
He stared at her in exaggerated surprise. “My things? You think these aremythings? My dear Miss Farleigh…” He bent and, before Kate could see what he was about, drew the silk nightgown from its hiding place. He held it up against his lean, strong frame.
“You think thatthisismine?” His blue eyes quizzed her wickedly. Kate fought against the rising tide of embarrassment that threatened her again.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous!” she snapped, trying not to smile. The frail wisp of silk only served to emphasise the masculinity of the man. “You know exactly what I mean.”
He let the delicate silk trail through his long brown fingers, then tossed the offending garment to one side. “ButIhaven’t offered you these.”
“But—”
“You’ll find that this letter from my grandmother explains everything,” he interrupted smoothly. “It arrived with the rest of these things. It wasn’tmytaste that selected these…although for once in my life I find myself in total accord with my grandmother.” He smiled, a slow, teasing smile that had Kate fighting those fluttery inner feelings again.
“Your grandmother?”
“Yes. She told me in my letter that she’d sent you some clothing more suited to your position.”
“You mean you didn’t send me all of this?”
“No, indeed. I hope, as a gentleman, I wouldn’t dream of so insulting you.” He added piously, “A lady could certainly not accept such gifts from a gentleman, Miss Farleigh. I am shocked you would even suggest it.” He pursed his mouth primly, his eyes twinkling wickedly.
Kate tried to avoid his gaze. She had been made to feel very foolish. He’d known very well that after their previous discussion of her wardrobe she would jump to the conclusion that he’d sent these things. He might not have actually sent them himself, she realised, but he most certainly was behind his grandmother’s charitable actions.
“But I cannot—”
“I hope you’re not suggesting there is any impropriety attached to an elderly lady buying a few bits and pieces for the daughter of her godchild?” he interrupted in a cool voice. “Her own mantua-maker made them from measurements Smithers took from your old clothes.”
Kate hadn’t realised Lady Cahill had taken so much trouble. She felt a little embarrassed, but she didn’t want to back down while he was standing over her like this. “No…but…it is too much…too generous…”
His face hardened, his eyes lost their twinkle.
“Understand me, Miss Farleigh. These things are from my grandmother and you can and will accept them!”
Kate resented his tone. “You have no right to tell me what I may or may not accept.”
“I care nothing for that. You will oblige me by appearing in one of these dresses within the half-hour.” Lord! The chit was stubborn.
“I will do nothing of the sort,” Kate responded defiantly. “I resent your high-handed manner, sir, and take leave to tell you I willnotwear these clothes.”
He took two menacing steps towards her and she skittered away out of his reach. “Understand me, miss! You will wear these new clothes and burn the old ones!”
“Oh, will I, indeed?” She pulled a face.
Jack took his watch out of his pocket and glanced at it. “You’ll dress yourself in one of those new dresses within the half-hour, or…”
“Or what?”
“Or, Miss Katherine Farleigh, I will come in here and dress you myself.” There was a hard glitter in his eyes that suggested he was not jesting.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Just try me, missie!” he snapped. “You have half an hour.”
He left the room.
Kate locked the door firmly after him and sat down on the bed. He’d thrown down the gauntlet and naturally she’d picked it up. It was time Jack Carstairs learned once and for all that he wasnother master. He had no authority over her whatsoever. If she didn’t choose to wear these clothes, she wouldn’t, and no bossy great interfering man would tell her otherwise.
A little over half an hour later there was a knock on her door. “Who…who is it?” Kate called, annoyed at the involuntary quaver in her voice.
“It’s me, miss, Millie.”
