The Scandalous Love of a Duke (12 page)

“How long have you been courting?”

“Is this an interrogation, John?” Her voice sounded as though she had shifted from anger to exasperation. It was the thing he liked most about her; that she showed every emotion without care. It was so damned refreshing to speak to an honest woman. Then why did he not trust her?

Because caution had been bred and beaten into him as a child and later relearned in his youth, it was too instinctual, he no more knew how to trust than he knew how to love.

“If you must know, we are not courting. He is not even looking for a wife. He is just a friend.”
And what she had with him was just sex.
The comparison hit John hard.

“Do you want to be his wife?”

“Stop this, John.”

He sighed, then realised his fingers were running through his hair. Yes, then. If she would not answer, the answer must be yes.

He felt sick. He did not wish any other man to steal away this precious woman. No other man must find out about her secret passion, nor know her love – if it was love? He wanted her to keep it all for him.

He
was
selfish.

But he was not spoilt, all the most important things he’d wanted in his life he’d not had, and now she was added to that list.

He turned away to put his coat on, trying to get a grip on the obsession he felt for her. He felt angry and annoyed, and betrayed again. Could no woman hold by him? And yet his subconscious shouted that barely moments ago he had sought to push her away.

Her hands slipped about his midriff without warning, he had not heard her move, and then her cheek pressed to the back of his shoulder.

Ridiculously, he felt like weeping, and then he realised he had not shed a single tear over his grandfather’s death, he’d barely mourned at all. But he wanted to cry over this woman, who’d been waiting here for him for a quarter of his life when he had not even known she was waiting. Not only was she passionate, selfless and giving, but she was also a survivor, as he was, and lonely, as he was. In so many ways they were the same, and yet in so many others they were entirely opposite and poles apart.

“You may drive me if it is so important to you,” she whispered against his back.

He felt something warm and fluid in his chest. The emotion constricted his lungs and stole his breath.

He said nothing but let her hold him and let himself feel the reassurance she offered. This woman he’d assumed was a fragile English rose had more courage than him.

“If you wish it, Katherine,” he said without turning.

His gaze looked outwards, across the land that was his. It stretched for miles. He had everything except what he most wished for, the ability to love this woman and make her his companion for life.

He was not spoilt.

“I wish it.”

God alone knew why.

~

Loitering among the standing gravestones and crypts in the churchyard, suffering inane conversation, John waited on Katherine’s appearance.

Her parents had already gone, as had half the village. The other half, it seemed, only stayed to indulge him.

John had initially waited beside the clergyman, with hands clasped behind his back so he would not be tempted to throttle the man. But then, those left had huddled into groups and drawn him into conversations.

He was not in the mood to talk. He was too distracted, and not only by thoughts of Katherine. Wareham had turned up. Late. To make an entrance. The whole congregation had turned when the door had opened to let him in. Then the whole congregation had turned to look at John. Clearly Wareham had made no secret of his dismissal.

John had ignored them and looked back to the front, very aware of Katherine talking quietly with the children in the small chapel at the side of the church.

When Wareham had left, he’d smiled at John, with hatred in his eyes.

The look reminded John of his grandfather. It was an image which was seared into his memory like a brand. His grandfather had given John’s mother that look the day which was immortalised in John’s recurring dream.

Of course, Wareham had had far more years to capture the old man’s image than John. Yet despite Wareham’s ability to hide his thoughts, John sensed Wareham had come to find out if his fraud had been discovered.

John had smiled back just as viciously, giving not a single hint of the answer. Let the man fret and squirm, John was not ready to move yet, he wanted more evidence to ensure Wareham could not claim the incorrect totals just error.

However, after Wareham had walked away, John sent his grooms to follow, and to go and fetch others to watch Wareham once they knew where he was staying. John wanted to be able to find the man when the time came to make the charge. John trusted the grooms. He’d discovered Wareham was unpopular among the servants.

God, since his conversation with Katherine, John noticed each time he made a decision to trust.

The groom he’d asked to return was already back.

John sighed.

He longed to go into the church and drag Katherine out. He was bored of the obsequious company of local society, and her vicar.

When she finally did appear though, John was a little shocked to face the paragon of virtue again.

Last time he’d seen her she’d allowed him indecent privileges, now she looked as pure as snow once more. It seemed she
was
capable of hiding her emotions when she wished.

She smiled at her vicar, before even looking at John. Contempt and envy filled him, only proving her poor assessments of him right. How had she got so beneath his skin?

He’d watched her during the service, moving behind the ironwork screen closing off the chancel chapel. She had grace, and she showed compassion and gentleness to the children.

Damn,
he was so bloody intrigued and infatuated by her. She shone a light into the barren darkness inside him. If Egypt had been his arid desert,
she
was his oasis.

When she did turn to face him, he smiled and felt a lightning bolt of recognition. He knew her naked body.

His gaze swept over her. She wore the same tired blue dress she’d worn last week. God, when had he seen his sister, his mother or his cousins wear a dress twice within a month? Never. No wonder she thought him spoilt.

“Your Grace.” She dropped a formal curtsy.

God, he had forgotten she even should, he’d become so unaware of the difference in their status.

“Miss Spencer.”

“I’m sorry I took so long.”

“Are you, ready?”

She nodded.

He offered his arm.

When she laid her fingers on it, he felt a rush of overwhelming warmth as the ground rocked beneath his feet. It was a mix of gratitude, protectiveness and a deep-seated respect, which hit him like a fist to the stomach.

Behind her, her vicar said, “If you will wait a moment, Miss Spencer, I shall be free to run you home.”

So the vicar played barely known among local society too. It only made John seethe with jealousy again. Her vicar had something to hide if he used her given name in private only. She may not know her vicar wanted her, but he did.

“There is no need, Reverend Barker,” Katherine said. John knew she had felt his arm stiffen and sensed his anger. “His Grace has offered and I accepted.”

That routed the bloody man.

The vicar’s gaze turned to John.

John smiled, the stiff taut smile which had been his grandfather’s. Let the good reverend know the truth, John was claiming his ground and he was never stepping back.
He
was not saintly.

“Excuse us,” John said.

“Of course.” What else could the man say? But then he looked at Katherine meaningfully, communicating concern. He and Katherine must be close if they spoke in looks. She must share her thoughts with him. John’s envy hit him harder.

“I shall look forward to seeing you at Miss Jennifer’s come-out then, Miss Spencer.”

She nodded and bobbed a lesser curtsy for the vicar, blushing.

In a moment she was up in John’s curricle beside him, her thigh pressing along the side of his, while one hand clung to the edge and the other held her reticule in her lap.

Behind them, John’s groom perched on the step at the back, bracing himself by gripping the frame, as John flicked the ribbons again and lifted the animal’s pace from a trot to a canter.

He felt a burning pride to have her up beside him and the vicar left behind.

She did not speak, nor did he, unsure of what to say with his groom in earshot, he was sensitive of making some
faux pas.
When they reached her home, he slowed the horses and steered them onto the crescent drive. Once he’d stopped, he jumped down at the same moment as his groom who moved forwards to hold the animals while John walked about to the other side.

As he handed her down, he heard the door open behind him.

“Katherine?” It was her father. “If Reverend Barker was busy you should have spoken up, we would have waited.”

Her fingers were still in John’s hand when she turned to her father, but then she tugged them free.

“John offered, Papa.”

“I am sure His Grace has better things to do, Kate. You should have said.”

The censure in his voice struck John and he saw it hit Katherine too. She turned an exquisite pink and her gaze dropped suddenly to the level of her father’s shoes.

“It was no trouble,” John said, speaking up before her father could hurt her anymore. “I was coming past your door.”

“We are hardly en route to Pembroke Place, Your Grace.”

“True, but I am going to London, sir.”

The man visibly bristled. Apparently her father was as suspicious as her vicar. He had been so the other day but John had soothed things with a little flattery. Katherine had accused him of manipulating people that day. He could, he’d learned that power from his grandfather too. John merely gave people what they longed for, his attention. He was about to try the trick again but Katherine turned to him.

“You are going to town, today?”

He had intended telling her when they’d walked to the door. Her father had stolen that opportunity. But John needed to speak to Harvey and sort out this mess Wareham had created.

“I will be back on Wednesday, for your sister’s celebration.”

Her eyes were shimmering as she looked at him, full of uncertainty again.

“Go indoors, Katherine,” her father said.

Damn
, had her father seen her lost look? Had she given them away?

She sent John a quick, swift apologetic smile full of insecurity, the Katherine he had met in town again, before bobbing a curtsy. “Your Grace. Thank you for driving me home,” she added more quietly.

“You’re welcome.”

She was gone in an instant.

He felt her loss as though the sun had dropped beyond the horizon as it did in Egypt.

“May I speak with you privately.” Her father’s words sent a chill running down John’s spine. He nodded, and then followed the man inside. Katherine had already disappeared.

There was a sense of the absurd in this moment. Katherine’s father was a meaningless nothing of a man in John’s world and John was at least three inches taller than Mr Spencer. Yet he was treating John like a schoolboy about to get a scolding. John felt like laughing. Spencer could never stand against John if it came down to a battle of wills.

He was led into Spencer’s study and the door was shut behind him.

“I am no fool, Your Grace,” her father opened, standing before the window.

John stared at him.

“You may leave my daughter alone after today. I do not wish to see you speaking with her privately nor showing her particular attention. You will leave her be, do you understand.”

An order. The foolish man. John did not like be told what he could and could not do. He was more likely to do anything he was asked not to. Yet speaking against him took courage, and John gave Spencer a grudging respect, even though John would not back down. “You of all people, sir, are aware of my longstanding connection with Katherine. She values my friendship and I hers.”

“And do you take advantage of that friendship, Your Grace?”

There was bitter challenge in Spencer’s voice.
He knew.
Yet John denied it. “No.”
Yes
. His internal admission brought guilt.

“My daughter is judged enough for her birth, Your Grace. She does not need vultures circling over her to add to her pain. If you have any conscience, cease preying on her and leave her be.
”

“I would not hurt her,” John answered instinctively.

“Then is it marriage you are thinking of?”

A painful fist braced about John’s heart, winding him and preventing him from answer. Of course it was not marriage. She could never be his wife.

“I thought not,” Spencer answered, looking at John as though
he
was carrion. “Then I ask again. Please leave my daughter alone.”

No
.
He was not letting her go, her father and her vicar be damned. “If Katherine wishes for my friendship, sir, she shall have it.” His answer was bitter with defiance. Then John turned away.

“Then you are not welcome in my home.” Her father clipped out behind him.

John smiled, a vicious smile, and looked back, feeling his grandfather’s monster roar inside him. “As you wish.”

Katherine looked at the door of the assembly rooms for the umpteenth time. Neither Phillip nor John had arrived. Her mother, father and sister had stopped receiving guests an hour ago and the clock on the mantle said it was already nearly ten.

Gentlemen and their town hours.
She felt an internal smile.

But, oh, where were they?

She had been on tenterhooks all day thinking about seeing John again, and Phillip too, she was looking forward to seeing her brother as much as John.

Yet it was John she longed for.

She glanced at the clock and then the door again. She’d missed him dreadfully. She’d not even realised how precious those hours with him had been until he’d gone. He had left a gaping hole in her life and in her chest.

She was standing to one side of the room, alone, a little apart from everyone else, playing wallflower. Her fingers clasped at her waist to stop them shaking.

Her mother was excluding Katherine as usual, ignoring her presence whenever possible. Currently, she and Jenny were with Mrs Ellis and her daughters, across the room.

At least, earlier, when people had been dancing, Katherine’s omission had been less obvious, but now the music had ceased and supper was being served, and she had no friends to sit with.

“Katherine? Shall we sit together?” Except Richard.

She turned to him with a broad smile, thanking heaven for his rescue. He had been talking with the Dawkins, another family her mother did not approve Katherine speaking to, and so she had not dared join him.

Reverend Barker had always been kind to her since his arrival. She knew that riled her mother too, but Richard was one of the few who dared to ignore her mother’s disparaging words. Everyone else in the village gave the Spencer’s little orphan a wide berth in case the baseness of her origin might be infectious. Richard had never believed it and he’d told her bluntly early on, she was to ignore her mother’s cutting words. “God does not judge any child by its parents’ sins,” he’d said.

Oh, how wrong he was. She had proved her mother right now. She had given herself to John in a way she should not have done and she had enjoyed every moment of it. She
was
like her natural mother.

When her gaze met Richard’s she felt her smile fall, as guilt struck. Her actions had let him down. “Thank you, Richard.”

Despite her denial to John, Richard probably did like her as more than a friend. He’d never given any verbal indication though, but sometimes there was an appreciative look in his eyes, a look she had seen before in others’ eyes, when a man was building up towards an offer.

When she’d seen it before, she’d actively discouraged them. John had always occupied her heart. But Richard’s kindness seduced her soul a little, and at one point she had seriously thought if he asked she might say yes. But how could she now? She could never evict John from her heart.

Richard seated her at a table in the corner and then went to fill them both a plate. Yet his expression was stiff and serious when he returned. “The Duke of Pembroke and your brother have arrived.”

“Oh,” she felt instantly ashamed that for all his kindness she wished to leave him and go to John. Why had they come, now, when she was already seated?

She looked over her shoulder and saw John being greeted by her mother and Lady Ellis. Then Mrs Bishop, Miss Elizabeth, the Listers, the Dawkins and others all moved forwards for introductions.

She remembered his complaints about people pressuring him and toadying. She stayed where she was. Her mother would not wish her there anyway.

Katherine turned back and faced Richard’s intuitive eyes. “I shall wait and greet them later, my mother will only be angry if I interfere. His Grace has more important people to greet than me.”

“And yet I have seen him single you out twice at church.”

She knew she coloured up.

“Why do you think that is, Katherine?” the question was spoken with implication and her pulse suddenly raced, but she refused to drop her gaze and admit her guilt. Perhaps she was learning things from John, how to be brash and bold for a start, when she did not feel it.

“I have known him since I was a child, Richard. He is a friend.”

“A friend? Can a man in his position be your friend, Katherine? Have you heard that he laid Mr Wareham off without any explanation?”

She had not heard. “When?” Mr Wareham had been at Pembroke Place for as long as she could remember. Even her mother looked upon him with respect. People treated him like a lord because he managed such a large estate. Why would John have dismissed him?

“A week ago.”

When she had been meeting John.

Why had he not said?

“Do not trust him, Katherine. A man in his position would not align himself with the adopted daughter of a local squire?”

She felt cut. It was cruel of Richard to point out how unworthy she was of John. He was implying her chastity was at risk, but John had preserved it. “He is Phillip’s friend. He is merely being kind. You need not be concerned.”

“I hope that you are right.”

Was she arguing with Richard? The most placid and considerate man she had ever known. She
was
becoming more like John.

They fell into silence and ate, but when John and Phillip arrived at their table a quarter-hour later, Richard glanced at her meaningfully, as if suggesting John had sought her out.

She and Richard stood, but Richard did not stay, he gave John a curt bow and then walked away.

She knew her cheeks were pink when she met John’s gaze. “I thought you weren’t coming,” she said breathlessly.

Both men carried plates and John waved her to sit down again while Phillip drew up a third chair.

“Our business took a little longer than expected today,” John answered as he sat.

“But then John gave me a lift home. His curricle is much faster than mine,” her brother added.

John had not said he’d gone to London to see Phillip.

“Why did you not sit with Mama or Jenny, or at least Papa?” Phillip asked, before he took a bite of a pastry.

She smiled at him, feeling overwhelmingly glad to see them both. She felt as she’d done as a child when they came home from school or college – visible and human. “You know very well why not, she does not wish me anywhere near her.”

“That is absurd.” John’s expression showed rare emotion, shock and disbelief.

“That is my mother,” Katherine responded, her smile dropping, but she was not bitter. This was her life, she knew nothing else. “What business did you have in town?”

“Nothing of any importance,” John answered, dismissively.

“Merely some issue John has asked me to help resolve,” Phillip added.

She was surprised by the camaraderie flowing between them.

“Are you sure it is business that made you late, and nothing to do with avoiding the number of times you shall have to dance.” She smiled again, teasing Phillip.

“You wound me, would I be so calculating?”

“Yes.”

“You know me too well, Kate.” He gave her a fond smile.

She loved her brother. He was the reason she was so untroubled by her lot in life, he’d always been there to cheer her up. “Well, you shall have to make up for it after supper. Mama will be throwing every eligible woman your way.”

“But I shall dance the first with you.”

Her smile lifted, and it came from a warm glow in her heart as she reached out and captured his hand to say thank you.

When she let go, he turned and looked at John. “See what a blessing it is to be in mourning. No one can throw the women at you.”

When Katherine looked at John too, his eyes were on her, crystalline and bright. “Yet I shall regret not being able to take Katherine onto the floor.”

There was a hard edge to his words which made Phillip look askance. But then Phillip turned and smiled at her, appearing to dismiss the undercurrent as being John’s now natural coldness, and began bantering with her again.

John watched their interaction with captivated amusement.

Katherine was different again with her brother. She smiled and laughed in a way he had not seen her do before, her eyes shining.

Heavens, he had missed her. He’d missed her glowing honesty. He’d been reminded in town of just how precious she was when he’d faced the ennui of the women of his class. She had permeated his hard exterior as no other woman ever had.

He’d not appreciated seeing her seated beside her vicar though.

She was the first person he had seen when he walked through the door, even though her back had been to him, and the instant he’d seen her, a desire to cleave the other man in two had roared through John’s head.

The sound of instruments being tuned stretched from the hall next door.

“Phillip!” Phillip’s mother’s voice rose behind them.

“Damn,” Phillip said, throwing a conspiratorial, amused look at Katherine.

She smiled in return, sharing a private joke.

“My summons, I’m afraid,” Phillip said apologetically, glancing at John. Then he looked at his sister and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, you shall have to take second place again.”

She nodded, smiling still.

But when Phillip turned, John saw pain touch her eyes and her smile fell a notch.

“She will make him lead Jennifer out first,” Katherine said, answering a question John had not yet asked.

My daughter is judged enough for her birth …  She does not need vultures circling over her to add to her pain.
Her father’s warning replayed in John’s mind. He’d heard the same words over and over for the last three days.

But he refused to believe he’d hurt her. He had taught her a few things she ought not know, but they could cause her no lasting harm.

“Richard said you have dismissed Mr Wareham.”

John’s gaze clarified. So her vicar had been telling tales. “Yes. Although I cannot see why that is your vicar’s concern.”

“People talk, John. Why did you dismiss him?”

“And that is none of your concern.” He had no intention of involving Katherine in his dispute with Wareham, and John did not wish to even think of that tonight. He’d spent three days in London with Phillip and Harvey seeking further evidence, and today he’d interviewed potential replacements. Tonight he wished to concentrate on her.

“How will you replace him? He was there for years.”

“I’m sure you are not really interested, Katherine. Tell me why your mother is excluding you, have you fallen out?”

She bit her lip, but then laughed, as though it was a foolish question.

He noticed she wore no jewellery, not even a pretty ornament in her hair. She did not even wear flowers. Her dress was pale pink and again it looked as though it had been owned and worn for years, and before he’d gone abroad he remembered her always wearing the same outdated scarlet cloak. He looked over at Jenny, she’d taken Phillip’s arm across the room and she laughed at some comment.

Phillip must be teasing her in the same way he had teased Katherine. But the difference between the sisters shouted itself across the room. Jenny had a string of glossy pearls about her neck, and her hair had been curled and coifed and decorated with small pale yellow rosebuds and sparkled with what looked like a small diamond comb. Katherine’s hair was scraped back in a chignon she had clearly secured herself. John had seen her do it in the tower room.

Equally, there was a difference in attire. Katherine’s dress was old and plain muslin. Jenny’s was a luscious striped yellow and cream silk and obviously new.

Katherine smiled as he looked back at her.

He smiled in return, feeling thrown off balance again.

He thought of her gazing longingly into the milliner’s window in Maidstone, looking at the bonnet he had later bought. Her mother and her sister had been shopping inside while she’d carried parcels. He remembered looking at the portraits in her parents’ parlour. There had been none of Katherine.

What of that foul old spencer she wore every day and her tired kid leather gloves, when most women wore lace ones in the summer?

She was Phillip’s sister, but she was
not
Phillip’s sister. John had always known she was adopted, everyone knew it. But why on earth would the Spencers adopt her only to treat her with disdain?
She does not need vultures circling over her to add to her pain…
Her father knew the distinction between the sisters hurt her, yet he allowed it.

“Why?” John asked without explanation, but she clearly understood.

“Why does the sun rise and set. I am base born, John. I am the daughter of a milkmaid.” He had known that, but he had never heard her say it before, and suddenly just how low her birth was hit him. “I am an embarrassment to her.”

“Then why did she take you in?” He felt angry on her behalf. How could anybody wish to hurt her?

She shrugged, as though it was a question she had asked herself all her life and never found the answer to. Perhaps it was. He more than anyone knew about questions like that.

“Do not say anything to Phillip,” she whispered suddenly.

“How can he not know? Does he not have eyes?”

“He knows she does not treat me the same, but Mama is not so bad when he is there because he would speak up for me and she does not wish to lose his affection, and I will not destroy his closeness with her. He may jest, but he loves her. She is his mother.”

“While you are ignored.”

“I am fed and clothed, John, and I have a father and brother who love me and even Mama does not ill treat me, not really. She does not beat me.”

“Just ignores you, or treats you like a servant.” He was appalled.

“Come on.” Standing, he held out his arm.

She did not rise.

“I said come on,” he repeated, knowing there was a thread of steel in his voice. “She can hardly deny
me, and I am not going to let any of them continue cutting you, Katherine.”

“John, I cannot.”

“You can and you will. Get up, and that is an order.”

She rose.

“Right, to whom shall I introduce you first? Lord and Lady Ellis. Let us start with the most toplofty of our neighbours and work our way down.”