The Scandalous Love of a Duke (13 page)

“My mother will be furious,” she whispered, but he heard the note of laughter in her voice. Perhaps she would judge him a little less harshly after this, sometimes power and influence paid off, and sometimes he was not selfish.

An hour later, occupying a chair in the refreshment room which faced the archway into the assembly hall, John watched the dancing while he played cards. Or rather he watched Katherine dance.

He’d frequently heard her trill laugh and every time he looked up she was smiling.

All the sons of local society had stepped up to the mark since he had done the pretty and made the introductions, and he had done them with ruthless insistence, calling her a particularly close friend from his childhood whom he was shocked to discover no one knew. He had implied in both voice and stance if anyone continued cutting her
he would cut them.

After each introduction he had remained for fifteen minutes, managing the conversation by asking Katherine questions and ensuring their neighbours engaged. Her mother would never get away with treating her badly in public again, he had ended that, and the girl was having the time of her life. He did not even begrudge watching her dance with others, including her vicar. She shone with a beauty brighter than her sister’s, no matter that she wore no jewels.

“Thank you,” Phillip said, drawing John’s attention back to the table.

“For what?”

“For getting Kate accepted. I’ve not seen her smile so much for years.”

“I have never been able to abide snobbery,” John answered, looking at his cards. Then he selected one and laid it against Phillip.

“Still, you had no need to do it.”

John met Phillip’s gaze.

In London, John had found himself becoming less affected with Phillip. They’d met twice in the last two days, to discuss business, and obviously travelled back together. Phillip was like his sister, he hid nothing of himself.

“No, but how could I sit here and not. They will never dare snub her again now my favour relies on it.”

Phillip laughed, retrieving John’s discarded card and then looking at his own. “What it is to have the power of a duke…”

He’d been like this at school, full of satiric humour. John had never been conscious of the difference in their standing then. But now…“I believe the cliché you missed, was, in your pocket, and that I am not, Phillip.”

“Which is why I did not say it,” Phillip grinned, tossing a card on the table, before looking at Katherine himself. “I think there is a chance she might say yes to the reverend.”

John followed Phillip’s gaze. She was certainly smiling warmly at the man as they promenaded during a country dance. John’s green devil stirred.

“I have never seen her form such an attachment before,” Phillip said. “He has been solicitous towards her for months. If he asks her to marry him, I hope she says yes. Her life would be so much better if she was not tied to the history of her birth.”

John’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know more of it?” It had sounded as though Phillip did.

“No more than you.”

John would swear Phillip was lying. He
knew more. But John could hardly press. What business should it be of his?
My daughter is judged enough for her birth… She does not need vultures circling over her to add to her pain
.

A pang of guilt struck John and he looked back at Katherine as he reached to take a card from the pile between him and Phillip.

She looked younger when she danced and smiled.

He should leave her alone.

I should never have touched her.
The yell of conscience rang in his thoughts. She should belong to her vicar. John had no place playing with this woman’s life. He had no right to be jealous, yet he was. She was the only one who could see inside him and had the courage to challenge him. She was the only woman who had cared what he was and, in answer, when he had nothing to give her in return, he’d stolen her innocence.
My God, John Harding, what have you become?

He would leave her to her vicar. He must. He could be selfless too.

He laughed.

Phillip looked at him but John ignored it.

He was not like his grandfather, not yet. He would let her go, no matter how much it cut him with envy, it was the right thing to do.

John threw away the card he’d picked up.

The decision sickened him, and he felt bereft already, but it was the right one.

“Phillip.” They both looked up as Katherine approached. “You have not danced with me once. You cannot evade me any longer.”

Her expression was bright and happy. Phillip stood and threw his hand of cards onto the table. “I was one away.”

John smiled. “Then you win. Enjoy your dance.”

As they walked away John had a sudden idea, and as soon as it came into his mind it germinated like a planted seed.

His grandfather had always had a celebration at the end of the harvest before returning to town. It would not look at all odd.

Katherine had never even seen inside John’s home, and now he understood why he was going to change that.

It would be his last indulgence as far as she was concerned. He would ask his family down. His mother could plan it and Katherine could come and solidify her new standing in this community.

Then that would be an end to it and John would return to town.

~

“Have you seen this?” Phillip walked into the drawing room, waving a card in his hand, which he gripped between his index and forefingers.

“What is it?” Jenny asked, as both Jenny and Katherine looked up.

Jenny had been reading, while Katherine was darning a pair of her father’s stockings.

“An invitation, that is what, for a week Friday, from Pembroke Place.”

“From John?” Katherine stood, feeling her insides tumble to her feet. She had heard nothing from him since Jenny’s ball and she could not understand why when he’d been so solicitous there. She feared he had finally seen how wide the chasm between them was. He’d seemed shocked by her exclusion.

She’d been equally stunned to see how easily he filled his grandfather’s shoes. He had manipulated both conversation and people to bring her to the fore. She was in awe of him all over again, and since the ball all her thoughts had centred on the aristocratic, authoritative and attractive duke, not memories of John Harding.

“Patience,” Phillip stated, laughing at her and pulling the card away when she tried to reach for it.

“Is it a ball?” Jenny questioned excitedly, on her feet too.

“It would not be a ball,” Katherine looked back at her sister, “he is still in mourning.”

“No, but it is a dinner party,” Phillip smiled, “and we are all invited, along with half of local society mind you, so do not think yourselves particularly favoured.”

Phillip let Jenny take the invitation and looked at Kate. “His family will all be there, Eleanor and Margaret too. You shall be mixing with a quarter of the House of Lords again.”

Katherine’s smile fell. “I shall not. I cannot go.” Her words were spoken in a bitter whisper so Jenny would not hear. “I have nothing to wear.”

“How exciting!” Jenny cried, beside them, “He has a dozen eligible cousins too, doesn’t he? Oh, I am going to tell Mama.”

Phillip gave Jenny a tolerant, adoring look as she left the room, but when he looked back at Katherine there was concern in his eyes. “He will take it as an insult if you are not there, Kate.”

“Then do you have the money to buy me a dress?” she said cruelly. It was entirely out of character for her to be petulant, and yet this was not fair. How could she stay at home when everyone else went to see John?

“You know I do not.” His voice said he wished he did. “Wear the dress you wore at Jenny’s party.”

“This is not a local assembly, Phillip, I cannot wear a dress which is little more than a day gown. I would stand out as ridiculous.” Tears burned in her eyes.

He held her gaze but clearly did not know what to say.

She could not remember ever getting angry with him before, nor begging for anything, nor even crying over things she lacked. Yet she refused to stand among John’s family and look so horribly out of place. She could never bear such embarrassment.

She sat back down and covered her face as the tears overflowed.

“Kate?” Phillip had squatted down beside her, and his palm settled on her shoulder.

“I cannot go,” she said into her hands, in bitter complaint.

“Kate, I am sure John’s family will not care what you wear, and everyone else knows how things stand anyway.”

“And you think that makes it better,” she said, looking up, flashing anger at him when it was not his fault. “I care!” In the hall she could hear Jenny’s excited outpouring of enthusiasm as she told their mother.

“If I could buy you a dress I would.”

She hugged him, her arms about his neck, but cried again.

He held her in return, hesitantly, as though unsure of what to do.

She had never been like this before.

When she heard Jenny returning with their mother, she pulled away and wiped the tears from her face. Forcing herself to stop being so silly. This was her life. She could not reorder it, merely live it, and she had always done that well enough before. She must
not
feel sorry for herself.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Phillip, forcing a smile before they came in. “I know you do your best to help me. I am just having a selfish moment that is all. It hardly matters, it is just one party.”

Phillip’s eyebrows lifted. “People do not cry over things which hardly matter, Katherine.”

“I’m just tired,” she answered dismissively, rising. He stood too. “When you see John, please tell him I am sorry I cannot come.”

“Katherine, just go, let people think what they like about your dress.”

She shook her head. She could not appear so insignificant before John. The embarrassment would be a physical pain when she knew what she had let him do to her.

~

“Miss Katherine?” Hetty appeared with a light scratch on Katherine’s chamber door. “There’s another parcel come for you, Miss.”

Katherine looked up. She had retreated to her room to escape the excitement which still raged downstairs. Jenny had talked of nothing but John’s party since this morning.

“Hetty?” Katherine saw a large flat box in her hands.

The girl bobbed a curtsy.

“Who sent it?” Katherine stood and then crossed the room, feeling both shocked and anxious.

“They did not say, Miss. It came from the dressmakers in Maidstone.”

An ice cold chill raced through her veins. He would not have done this? But she took the box and pulled the string loose, before setting it on the bed. When she lifted the lid, there was another knock on the open door.

Phillip stepped in as she looked back.

“I was going to drive over to John’s and I… What’s that?”

“I don’t know yet,” she turned back to the parcel and tipped the lid on to the bed.

Phillip looked over her shoulder when she lifted the tissue paper.

She glimpsed bright blue satin, and then saw an expanse of glossy, shimmering fabric. “Gracious, it’s beautiful,” she whispered as she touched it.

John had picked the colour to match her eyes.

She lifted it a little and saw that the skirt sparkled with little glass beads, but the dress was not flamboyant, it was simply cut. She would blend in without appearing to overstate her position in society.
Oh John.
He should not have done this, and yet she loved him still more for knowing she’d need a dress to accept his invitation.

Phillip touched the fabric too, and then he picked up the card which lay in the box. “It is from Eleanor. She says it is a gift to ensure you will have no excuse not to come to John’s gathering. She used the Maidstone dressmaker because the woman had your measurements.”

He let Katherine have the card, smiling. “I take it you will be going now.”

Katherine felt herself glow with happiness. “Yes.”

“Good girl. Now put your bonnet on and we’ll drive over to John’s and accept.”

“Really?” She felt breathless at the prospect of seeing John. She knew the dress was from him, not Eleanor.

“Yes, really. Hurry then.”

She laid the dress back in its box, carefully. It was the most precious thing she had ever owned. “I won’t be long.”

Phillip left the room with Hetty, but as Katherine hurried to put on her spencer and a bonnet, she heard a cry from downstairs.

“A dress!”

Katherine’s heart beat harder, as she swiftly tied the ribbons of her bonnet.

“
From where?”

Oh, why must her mother always spoil everything.

“It is a gift,” Katherine heard Phillip say as she rushed out into the hall.

“From whom?” The voice was her father’s now, and Katherine saw them all gathered in the hall as she came downstairs. Jenny was there too, hovering beside their mother.

“From Eleanor, Papa,” Katherine said, still walking downstairs. “She knew I would have nothing to wear to John’s party.”

“From Eleanor?” her father repeated doubtfully.

“Yes, Papa.” He had good reason to doubt, she knew it was not from Eleanor.

“I read the card,” Phillip stated. “I think it kind of her.”

“To make Katherine a charity case,” their mother bit back.

“To give her less fortunate friend a gift,” Phillip replied.

Please, do not make me send it back.
If they did, Katherine might die. She wanted to go to John’s party.

Her father was staring at her, a question in his eyes.

“I think it kind of her too,” Jenny said suddenly.

Katherine looked at her, it was probably the nicest thing Jenny had ever said, and catching Katherine entirely off guard, Jenny rushed to hug her when she stepped off the bottom step. “I am glad you shall have a pretty dress.”

“Thank you,” Katherine said, uncertain what to do, waiting on the condemnation of their mother. If she insisted Katherine send it back, it would go back.

Her mother’s eyes glowed with malice, but there was doubt there too. After John had so publically taken up Katherine’s cause last week perhaps her mother feared offending him.