by Julia London
“If I don’t have you back on the morrow, your Mr. Butler will bloody well break my neck, I think.”
Ah, Aldous and Digby. They’d be frantic if she didn’t return on the morrow. There was no escape from her life, no matter how hard she might wish it. She sighed. “I wish it could always be like this,” she admitted softly.
Grayson nudged her with his foot; when she glanced up, he smiled at her and said, “So do I, darling. But we both know it can’t possibly be.”
But Kate didn’t know that, not really. She felt slightly foolish for even wanting it to be different; she understood the ocean of differences between them. But couldn’t oceans be crossed? Couldn’t Grayson see that they could? “I should be home,” she said, working to convince herself. “Digby will be sick with worry, and Jude might return to London.”
“And there is George to think of,” Grayson reminded her.
Kate glanced up at him. There was nothing that could have ruined everything quite like the mention of the prince. “Oh. Him,” Kate said sullenly. “I have a bloody agreement with him, don’t I?”
“I believe he thinks you do,” Grayson said solemnly, and touched his fingers to hers. “By the bye, I have, for all intents and purposes, ended my association with Lady Eustis.”
That brought Kate’s head up. She was almost afraid to ask how or when, or perhaps most importantly, why.
He pressed his lips together. “It seemed the prudent thing to do,” he said. “My heart has not been hers of late, obviously, and… and it was never meant to be more than a casual sort of affair.”
“I’d wager Lady Eustis has a different opinion.”
“Yes. But she and I both knew from the beginning that it would end eventually. It’s the way of the ton.”
“I don’t care for the ways of the ton,” Kate said peevishly. “Why shouldn’t men and women marry whom they love? People like you and Lady Eustis, who were born to privilege, should be free to marry whoever you love. I am sure Lady Eustis loves you, Grayson. How could she not?”
Grayson looked at her so closely that Kate blushed. He sat up, put his fingers under her chin. “Do you love me, Kate?”
Kate faltered; tears began to build behind her eyes. “How could I not?”
He smiled sadly and slipped his hands under her arms, drawing her to his chest. She laid her head against his shoulder; he caressed her wet hair. “Do you love me?” she asked tearfully.
“How could I not?”
Kate closed her eyes. A single tear fell from the corner of one.
They remained like that until the water grew cold. Grayson was the first to get out, reaching for the towels they’d left warming by the fire. Kate admired his body, his magnificent torso, the muscular thighs. It seemed so unfair that she could know and love a man so intimately, yet not have him.
Grayson wrapped a towel around his waist and brought one to Kate. When she stood up, he wrapped her in it and dried her hair. “I hope you’ll make more pastries. I am determined to eat as many of them as I can before I am returned to the rigors of Cook’s diet.”
She promised they would, and they spent the evening as they had the two prior evenings, cooking together, drinking wine, playing chess, and laughing. They laughed at silly things and teased each other. And as they had each night at Kitridge Lodge, they made love in the Queen’s room and then lay in each other’s arms. But that night they both seemed to be lost in their own private thoughts.
Kate stared into the fire for some time. When she looked at Grayson, she discovered he was watching her. He smiled, touched her face. “What are you thinking, beauty?”
“I am wondering why you told me about Lady Eustis,” she admitted.
He traced his thumb along her lips. “I thought you’d want to know.”
“But what does it mean?”
“It means that my heart is with you.”
“And if I am in your heart, then… ?”
He cupped her chin. “Then… we go back to London and we resume our lives, and we continue on as long as we might. That’s all, Kate. You do understand that is all we can hope for, do you not?”
She understood it. But she desperately wanted him to tell her it wasn’t true.
Were Digby here, he would chastise her for being silly and predictably female, then scold her for wanting more from her life than she might reasonably expect. “Your life is what it is, Kate,” he’d told her when she’d first met him. “The sooner you understand it, the happier you shall be.”
Digby couldn’t have been more wrong, for Kate understood very clearly what her life was, and she’d never been unhappier.
Grayson left their bed before Kate woke. He didn’t think he could bear to face her this morning, knowing these few idyllic days had come to an end. He left a fire in the hearth for her, dressed, and went down to the kitchen to boil water, a skill he’d mastered the last two mornings. But as he neared the kitchen, he heard pots being moved about, and the voice of Mrs. Williams calling out to Mr. Williams.
The servants had returned.
Grayson stopped. He stood a long moment before reluctantly turning about and going back the way he’d come.
Grayson and Kate departed shortly after luncheon, which Mrs. Williams insisted on serving them. They said little to each other on the drive back to London. Kate looked out the window at a world made white by a thin blanket of snow. As they drew closer to London, Grayson’s spirits began to flag. He wasn’t ready to return to his life as a duke. To his life without Kate.
The traffic was quite bad in London, and Grayson grew impatient. When they reached Kate’s residence, he went out before her. As he turned to help Kate down, his gaze fixed on a carriage at the curb.
Kate stepped out and followed his gaze. “God in heaven,” she muttered.
Neither one of them moved; they could only stand and stare at the seal of the Prince of Wales emblazoned on the side of that carriage.
Chapter Twenty-nine
An angry Prince of Wales was waiting impatiently in the drawing room in the house he’d paid for, standing with two gentlemen Kate had never seen before. There were wineglasses scattered about various tables and Kate wondered how long he’d been waiting for her. A small shiver of fear ran down her spine; she looked around for any sign of Aldous or Digby and could see nothing that indicated either of them was close by.
She’d made a horrible, horrible mistake.
“Your Highness,” Grayson said.
The prince fixed his eyes on Grayson. “I see you are not afraid of contagion, Your Grace.” His voice was hard and cold. He shifted his dark look to Kate and put out his hand, palm up. “Give me your hand, Kate,” he snapped.
She did as he asked, laying her fingers across his open palm. He closed his fingers tightly around hers and pulled her to his side, and said coolly, “I expected better from you, Darlington.”
“I have done as you asked,” Grayson returned coldly.
“You have done far more than I asked,” the prince snapped. “I no longer have need of your assistance. Leave us.”
Kate could feel Grayson’s eyes on her, but she knew better than to look at him, not with the prince watching her every move with eyes blazing in anger. She looked down.
“Kate… if you are not comfortable, you may come with me,” Grayson said evenly.
“Pardon?” the prince snapped.
“Kate?” Grayson asked, ignoring the prince. “Come with me.”
“No,” she said. She could hardly speak, her heart was beating so fiercely. She had no idea what to expect, but she knew instinctively that if she walked out with Grayson, it would be far worse. “I am perfectly fine,” she forced herself to say.
Still, Grayson hesitated. Why didn’t he go, just go! They’d made a horrible mistake, and the longer he stood there looking at her, the worse he made it. She’d tried to tell him as much outside—“Let me go in alone!” she’d begged him—but Grayson wouldn’t hear of it. He wouldn’t leave her to face the prince
alone.
“Leave my house, Darlington!” the prince said angrily. “All of you! Leave us!” he bellowed, his fingers curling more tightly around Kate’s hand, squeezing it painfully.
Kate risked a look at Grayson. “Please go,” she said, and quickly turned away.
A moment later, she could feel Grayson move away from her with the others; she heard the door shut behind her. Only then did she lift her gaze to George.
The prince dragged her across the drawing room and Kate feared the worst. He pushed her down on the settee, but instead of striking her, as Kate fully expected and braced herself for, he turned away. She could see his shoulders rise with his breath and sink again before he finally faced her. His eyes were blazing, his jaw set tightly. “Are you mad?” he asked sharply. “Do you intentionally seek my displeasure? For you have found it in abundance, madam!”
“I— No,” she said. She had learned with Benoit that it was pointless to reason with a man when he was angry.
Unfortunately, her short answer seemed to make the prince angrier. He took a menacing step toward her. “Perhaps I should explain why I am so deeply perturbed,” he sneered. “You are mine, Kate. I bargained for you fairly! I have provided for you very well indeed, and I made arrangements to keep you occupied until such time I might take advantage of our arrangement! If I did not make myself perfectly clear in the course of our agreement, then allow me to do it now. You are not to… to frolic with any man but me! In giving you Darlington as an escort, I meant only to give you the opportunity to be in society without drawing attention to me! And instead of showing your great gratitude for my generosity, you have betrayed me!”
“I have not,” she said instantly and firmly, and put a hand to her roiling stomach.
The prince suddenly lunged at her and grabbed her arm, yanking her off the settee, looming over her. “Have you bedded him?” he demanded hotly.
“No!” she lied, and prayed that her face did not give her away. “I misunderstood you, Your Highness,” she said, trying desperately not to sound panicked. “I thought you desired me to be seen with his grace at every opportunity, so that society might think he’d engaged my services. I did it to keep your name as far from me as possible.”
His eyes narrowed skeptically and he pursed his lips together as he regarded her. She returned his gaze with eyes wide open, knowing that the slightest quiver, the slightest hint of uncertainty would give her away.
“I thought you were ill, brought to bed by an ague,” he said, watching her closely, studying her for any deception.
Kate prayed her knees would not give way. “I was, but the weather has been foul and I thought… I thought a country airing would help me, and the duke kindly offered to take me.”
“And just like that, the two of you carried yourselves off to the country without a word to anyone?”
“I wouldn’t have dared to contact you, Your Highness, not with the delicate matters that surround you.”
“You could have written me!” he roared.
“Your Highness, I’ve written you only when your man has waited for my response! I would never be so bold as to seek to contact you on my own!”
“Do not lie to me, Kate!” he shouted, and raised his hand, as if he meant to strike her.
She looked him in the eye. “I do not lie,” she said, and her heart beat painfully with her dreadful deceit.
He said nothing for a long, tense moment. And then, “You have misunderstood me.” His voice was considerably calmer, and Kate thought she might swoon with relief. The prince touched her ear lobe with his finger. “I merely meant for you to accompany him on occasion, sweetling. I did not mean for you to befriend him so completely. But allow me to be very clear: If I find you have betrayed me, not only shall I turn you out, I shall ruin you. You will spread your legs for sailors, not lords. And I will see to it that Darlington is punished as well. His affair with Lady Eustis will be exposed. His brother’s vote on abolition will be imperiled.” He leaned closer. “And any scandal that touches him will touch each and every member of his family.”
The image of Frederick and Radcliff suddenly loomed in her mind.
“Imagine that,” the prince sneered. “Scandal has never touched the Christopher family, so I should think the slightest bit would make quite a large splash.”
Kate could not believe what little regard the prince had for Grayson’s family, particularly after scandal had so impacted the prince’s life. She forced a smile. “You have nothing to fear, Your Highness,” she said breathlessly.
He let go of her arm and caressed her neck with his knuckles. “Kate, lovely Kate.” He put his arm around her waist and drew her to him. “I know you are impatient. I have applied again to the king for relief in my suit. I have asked that he make a decision about a parliamentary divorce as quickly as possible. I understand he is considering my letter very carefully and I have reason to believe he will deliver a decision very soon. That means, jolie fleur, that in only a matter of days, you will be my mistress in more than fantasy.”
“How my heart swells to hear it,” she said.
He smiled and kissed her, his lips lingering long enough to repulse her. “When I see your smile I can scarcely abide the wait.” He ran his hands possessively down her body. “Sometimes I would like to throw caution to the wind and take what is mine.”
“Your Highness flatters me,” Kate said. “And while I could scarcely hope for more than that, I think… I think you chance too much.”
“How so?” he muttered, kissing her temple.
“Don’t you see, darling?” she whispered. “If anyone suspects you have taken a mistress and the news reaches the king, it will surely weigh in his decision as to whether he puts your marriage to a trial.”
“Yes, I know. That is why I’ve hidden you here,” he said, and cupped her breast.
“But… but His Majesty could be persuaded that you desire a trial to end your marriage in order to satisfy your own personal desires, and not for the good of the monarchy or your daughter, as you have stated.”
The prince chuckled softly. “I know, Kate.” He slipped his fingers into her bodice, brushed them across her nipple. “But how will the king know of one stolen afternoon? I think we are quite safe.”
Her heart skipped. She couldn’t bear it, not after being with Grayson. “But your carriage is waiting just outside, Your Highness. Many have surely noticed it. There is hardly anything on King Street to entice a prince and speculation will be rife… if it is not already.”
His smile faded a bit. He glanced at the window.
“I’d wager talk has already begun.”
George looked at her. “You are very clever, ma petite Kate. Very clever.” He kissed her. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to him. His tongue dipped into her mouth, twirling around hers while his hand kneaded her bosom.
Kate feared he’d ignored her advice and would take her then and there, but he abruptly released her. “I find it impossible to contain my desire.”
Kate smiled coyly. “You must think of your reward for doing so.”
He laughed softly. “The reward will be yours, ma petite oiseau.” He kissed her once more, and turned to leave. He paused to give her one final admonishment. “So that we are clear, you are not to see Darlington again. If you do, there will be dire consequences for you both. I would prefer you keep to your house until my situation is resolved.”
“Yes sir,” she said, curtsying.
“There are many things I will tolerate, but infidelity is not one of them.”
If the man who had the reputation of being London’s greatest adulterer saw the irony in his own words, he did not show it.
“Please forgive me for being so dreadfully foolish,” Kate said sweetly.
The prince smiled—it was obviously what he’d wanted to hear her say. “You are forgiven… this time,” he said ominously, and with a pat to her cheek, he took his leave of her.
Chapter Thirty
Don’t bother, sir, I shall announce myself!”
Grayson groaned upon hearing his mother’s voice through the open door of his study. He rose just as the footman dashed ahead of the duchess, bowing and quickly announcing her as she swept into his room.
“Good afternoon, Mother,” he said, walking forward to greet her.
She responded by slapping the Morning Times into his outstretched hand. “I don’t suppose I have to tell you that Lady Babington brought this to my attention,” she said irritably before marching to the settee and sitting there.
Grayson glanced curiously at the paper.
“What on earth has come over you, Grayson?” she demanded. Grayson steeled himself—the duchess rarely used his given name, and only when she was very cross with him. “You have always been so very responsible and careful of our name!”
“I have not become any less so, I assure you.”
“Then how do you account for that,” she said, gesturing wildly at the newspaper. “You know very well what you’ve done. And at Kitridge Lodge! My grandfather built that lodge!”
Bloody hell. Grayson didn’t have to read the news to know that a certain Mrs. Ogle had spread her gossipladen wings and flown to London with her news. He sighed. “The society pages, I assume?”
“I marked it.”
He unfolded the paper and scanned the page, finding her ink mark next to the society on dit.
Of late, a certain duke has been on the hunt for fresh country air. It was noted that he bagged a lovely bird whilst there, a species unknown to the quaint countryside of Hadley Green, but perhaps better known in town around the cloth halls where she has been known to roost.
Grayson’s blood riled; he tossed the paper aside and dragged his fingers through his hair. Was there no part of his life that went without observation and comment? Was he not allowed a single weekend at an old hunting lodge for his leisure? Must he answer to all of bloody England for it?
