“Lady Katherine is there.” A gold curl tumbled across Mary’s brow as her head canted to the side. “I thought you would want to see her before she left.”
Byron jumped to his feet with such force his chair was knocked backwards into the fireplace. Thankfully, despite the nights having grown considerably cooler, it hadn’t yet been lit and the worst the chair suffered was a bit of soot on the upholstery.
“Why is she leaving?” he snapped as he dragged the chair out of the hearth.
Opening her silk fan, his sister leisurely passed it from one hand to the other. “Is it warm in here, or is it just me? Perhaps you should open a window.”
“Mary…” he said through clenched teeth.
Her lashes fluttered. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you actually cared about her.”
“I do,” he said, to his own surprise.
“Really? Because you haven’t been acting like it.” Snapping the fan shut with a decisive click, she jabbed it at his chest as if it were a sword. “You’ve been behaving like a beast since she got here. This entire party was her idea, you know.”
“I know,” he acknowledged with a clipped nod. “She told me.”
“Then you must also know she only did it to get closer to you.” Another poke with the fan. “Yet here you are, sulking by yourself like a bear in its smelly old den. She’s leaving because you haven’t given her a reason to stay. And because after tonight the house party is over and it would be socially awkward if she was the only guest to remain.” Mary pursed her lips. “But mostly the first reason.”
“What would you have me do?” he demanded.
“What would I have you do?” his sister repeated. “Go get her, you fool. Before she comes to her senses and realizes what an impossible dolt you are.”
Byron didn’t need any more urging. Grabbing the cravat and waistcoat his valet had laid out for him in the hope he’d change his mind about attending the ball, he put them on as he ran towards the woman he loved…and would do anything not to lose.
“This was a poor idea,” Kitty decided as she stood at the edge of the ballroom beside Aunt Tabitha who had just shoved her fifth marzipan in her mouth and was showing no signs of slowing down anytime soon.
“Maybe,” Tabitha agreed around a mouthful of sugar. “But the sweetmeats are excellent.”
“Aren’t you afraid of getting an upset stomach?”
“Yes, but it distracts me from all the wine floating about.” Brushing the crumbs from her lips with a linen napkin, Tabitha finally set her plate aside with a sigh and patted her belly. “You can have something more to drink than lemonade, if you’d like. I truly wouldn’t mind.”
“I probably shouldn’t,” Kitty said with a rueful smile. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
Her aunt gave her a stern look. “You have to eat, my dear. There’s no quicker way to mend a broken heart than with food. At least, that’s what my grandmother always said.”
“I know, and I will. Just…not tonight.”
“There’s time yet,” Tabitha said quietly when she caught Kitty’s gaze flitting around the room for what felt like the hundredth time. “The ball isn’t over for another hour.”
“If he was going to come he’d be here already,” Kitty sighed. “But he’s not here, which means Margaret was wrong.” She absently touched a silk flower on her bodice. Her gown, comprised of filmy layers of muslin over pale pink cotton, was trimmed with delicate white rosebuds. It had capped sleeves and a plunging neckline that displayed her breasts to their best possible advantage. Unfortunately, the man whom she’d worn the dress for was nowhere to be seen. Not that she was entirely shocked. While part of her had hoped for the best, a much larger part had been preparing for the worst.
Which was precisely what she’d gotten.
Byron wasn’t here, and there were no signs of his impending arrival. Soon the ball would end, the guests would disperse, and the house party would be over. Then there would be no telling when – or even if – she’d ever see Byron again. Like a shooting star, their relationship (if it could even be called that) had lit up the sky before burning to ash.
“We should go,” she continued. “Leave the estate tonight, and travel straight on through to London. My parents should be returning soon. I’m sure they’d like it if we were there at the docks to greet them.”
Tabitha frowned. “If you’re sure…”
“I am,” Kitty said firmly. “Moping about here isn’t going to do either of us any good. I need a fresh change of scenery.”
“I see.” An odd smile captured Tabitha’s lips as she peered over Kitty’s shoulder. “I also agree, a change of scenery would be best. In fact, what do you think about the scenery coming this way?”
Confused, Kitty turned around…and froze in place when she saw Byron cutting a swift path through the middle of the floor.
“What – what are you…that is to say, how come you…you…”
“Do you know,” he drawled, looking rakishly resplendent in a half-done cravat and a navy blue waistcoat with his shirtsleeves rolled up past his elbows. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard you speechless.”
“I’ll be over by the dessert table if you need me,” Tabitha advised before she flitted away, leaving Kitty staring at Byron in open-mouthed astonishment.
Looking at him, standing here before her, she felt a myriad of emotions.
Excitement.
Desire.
Fear.
But the strongest among them was uncertainty.
Every lord she’d ever met had leapt at the opportunity to be with her. Except for one, and he was standing right in front of her. The one man she’d been unable to wrap around her finger. The one man who had resisted her charms at every turn.
The one man who had stolen her heart.
“What are you doing here?” she managed as her heart pitched inside of her chest like a ship navigating the throes of a stormy sea.
“It’s my ballroom, isn’t it?” he said, lifting a brow.
“Yes, but you hate balls.”
“But I love you.”
Two days ago, ten little words had ruined her. Now four of them lifted her higher than she’d ever been. Above the ceiling. Above the sky. Above the clouds. Above the stars. From this height she could see there wasn’t just one shooting star, but dozens. And they were all aiming straight for Byron.
“Say it again,” she whispered. “Slower this time.”
He took her hands in his and laced their fingers together. “I…love…you.” He tipped his head down until their temples were touching. “There,” he murmured, his breath smelling of peppermint. “Was that slow enough?”
“I suppose. I just…I just cannot believe it,” she said honestly. Leaning back on her heels, she raised dazed gray eyes to his. Then her eyes narrowed. “You’re not saying you love me because you think you have to, are you? If you are–”
“I’m saying it because I mean it. I love you, Kitty.” Letting go of her hand, he tenderly cupped her jaw, his thumb resting on the crest of her cheekbone. “I love you when you’re glaring at me like you are right now. I love you when you’re racing me across a field on a horse we both know you bloody well stole.”
“I didn’t steal Bacon. I simply…borrowed her.”
Byron’s mouth twitched. “Might I suggest a name change?”
“Why?” Her brow furrowed. “I like Bacon. It suits her. Now get on with all the reasons you love me,” she ordered with an impatient flick of her hand. “Surely there’s more than two.”
“Surely,” he said with just enough underlying sarcasm that if they weren’t in a grand room surrounded by their peers she might have been tempted to swat him.
Or kiss him.
Kiss, she decided as she glanced at his lips.
Definitely kiss.
Byron cleared his throat. “My face is up here, you know.”
“But all the best things are below it,” she pointed ou
t mischievously.
“Minx,” he growled. A smile teased the corners of his mouth, then slowly faded as his expression sobered. “I love you when you’re teasing me. I love you when you’re challenging me. I even love you when you’re covering me in wig powder.”
Kitty’s eyes widened. “I’d forgotten all about that.”
“Rest assured I haven’t,” he said dryly. Then his gaze softened. “I loved you when I didn’t believe in love. And I’ll continue to love you for the rest of my days.”
She bit her lip. “Could you say that all again, just…slower?”
With a husky laugh Byron drew her into his arms and kissed her while everyone around them stopped short and craned their necks to watch. Opening her eyes, Kitty flicked a startled glance at Lady Bishop who was already whispering behind her fan to Lady Harrington.
“People are looking,” she murmured against his lips.
“Let them look.”
“I thought you wanted our kisses to be a secret.”
“I was an arse,” he said unequivocally. “And I was scared. Scared to let myself feel. Scared to fall in love. Scared of what it all might mean. There are things in my past that aren’t…they aren’t pleasant, Kitty. But I want to share them with you. To share everything with you. First, however…first, I want to do this.”
Kitty gasped when he dropped down to his knee.
“Lady Katherine Dower,” he said in a loud, reaching voice. “Will you be my wife?”
It wasn’t the grand proposal she’d always dreamt of. There weren’t trumpets or white swans or an ice sculpture in her likeness. But it was perfect nonetheless, and when she looked back on this moment years in the future – as she often would – she’d remember it for its sweet simplicity.
As well as her answer, of course.
“Yes!” she cried as she leapt into his arms. “A thousand times yes.”
He picked her up by the waist and swung her in a quick, joyous circle before lowering her for a kiss as the ballroom erupted into cheers. By far, the loudest celebration came from Mary, Madeline, and Margaret.
“I told you,” Mary said, nudging Madeline in the ribs. “Didn’t I tell you?”
Madeline nudged her sister right back. “Don’t you dare take all the credit.”
“I just hope they’re this happy forever,” Margaret said dreamily.
Which, with the exception of another wig powder incident…they were.
A Note From the Author
Whew! What a wild ride. Truth be told, I never intended for Kitty to have her own story. She was just supposed to be a support character in The Summer Duke. Nothing more, nothing less. But then she met Byron…and, well, you now know the rest. I really hope you enjoyed reading The Autumn Duke. If you’d be so kind as to take a few minutes to write a review, I would really appreciate it! I honestly could not do what I love with you, and every single review – even the negative ones – are encouragement to keep going.
Look for my next release at the end of October. Winning the Earl of Winchester is the first book in a brand new series of novellas that I cannot WAIT to share with you! It’s available for preorder now wherever ebooks are sold!
Lots of love,
Jillian
About the Author
Jillian grew up in Maine and now lives in Pennsylvania on a five-acre farmette with her husband and their three children, all boys. She had a rescued miniature donkey, a draft mule, and she’s working on talking her husband into some chickens in the spring.
When she isn’t writing, Jillian enjoys gardening, going to the movies, and riding horses.
She really, really hates laundry.
The Autumn Duke (A Duke for All Seasons Book 4) Page 11
