“Why?” she asked. “What are you trying to do?”
He shook his head. “Nothing you need to worry about, Kate.”
She clasped her hands in her lap. “I see.”
“Do you?” He drank more wine and refilled his glass. “It’s a ruddy Gordian knot, and I can’t seem to unravel it.”
“Perhaps you need to take a sword to it.”
He laughed. “Perhaps I do! If only I knew where to make the cut.”
Katherine glanced at him. He looked tired but on edge. “Perhaps I can help,” she offered.
“Oh?” One corner of his mouth still curled. “I’m sure you can. Come here, m’lady.”
“No, truly.” She stayed in her chair even when he put out one hand to her. “If you tell me what you’re trying to do, I might be able to help in some small way.”
He dropped his hand. “I don’t think you can.”
She bit her lower lip in frustration. He was growing annoyed, when she was only trying to understand and help. “I don’t want to pry. Different people see things different ways. I feel unable to offer even sympathy and support since I don’t know what you’re trying to do.”
“Does it matter?” He cocked his head. “Does one need to know all before offering sympathy and support?”
“It would be nice if you talked to me!” she exclaimed. “You have my sympathy, you have my support, and I have nothing from you!”
His eyebrows shot up at this outburst. Katherine felt her face flush deep, burning red as she realized how much she’d lost her temper. “Nothing?” he asked in a dangerous voice.
She looked at his expression, and the flush spread across the rest of her body. “Well, not—not nothing,” she stammered. “But . . . we don’t talk of anything. Lady Darby asked me if we would go to the Assembly Rooms, and I couldn’t answer because I don’t know if you like to dance.”
“Yes, I like to dance. And play cards and hear concerts. We shall attend the Assembly Rooms tonight if you wish.”
Her new wardrobe still hadn’t been completed. She had no gowns fit for society, and he clearly hadn’t noticed; she was still wearing the plain dark blue dress she’d worn every night for dinner. She sighed. “Thank you. I don’t wish to go tonight.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Kate, I haven’t the patience for puzzles now. What do you want?”
I want you to take an interest in me, she thought. How could one ask for that? “I want to be a good wife,” she said softly.
“Excellent. Come upstairs and show me.”
What a grand joke on her. She had hoped he would warm to her physically once they were acquainted and familiar with each other. Instead he took her to bed and made sweet, wicked love to her without appearing to care to be acquainted at all. She didn’t know how to respond to that. On one level she was deliriously happy with her marriage, but on another, she felt more and more distressed.
“Kate?” he prompted, when she said nothing. He leaned toward her, a seductive smile touching his lips. “Come upstairs, love,” he murmured. “Let me atone for my ill temper.”
She stared at him with a sinking heart. Just the timbre of his voice made her body start to melt. She had to clench her hands together in her lap to keep from taking his hand and letting him do whatever he wished with her body. She had to clench her thighs together to quell the urge to follow whatever wicked instructions he planned to give tonight. He was so devilishly handsome, so virile, so charming. She had to protect herself somehow. “Not tonight,” she said, dredging up all the calm coolness she had once relied on so heavily. It felt heavy and confining, but also safe. “I feel a headache.”
“I’ll be gentle.” He stroked his fingertips along her forearm. All her nerves sang in joy. All her muscles knotted with the effort of resistance.
“No,” she said, turning away from the sight of his beautiful face, dark and focused with passion, before she wavered.
“Oh, Kate.” A bit of laughter lurked in his voice. “Let me apologize. Do you want to attend the Assembly Rooms tomorrow?”
She took a deep breath, steeling her nerve, and glanced at him. “Do you wish to go?”
“Absolutely.” He smiled in sensual promise. “Now come upstairs.”
“It won’t interfere with your business in Bath?” She was weakening in spite of her resolution. Perhaps it would be a start. Dancing with each other, they would have to talk of something. And they would have to speak to other people as well, which might establish more openness between them. Perhaps she could bribe the dressmaker to deliver one decent dress by tomorrow evening, and if she looked presentable enough, he would take new notice of her.
But at the mention of his private affairs, Gerard’s mouth firmed, and he flicked his fingers. “Don’t worry about that. It’s a dull and dry story, and I would rather do something far more interesting with you.”
She had been patronized too often by Lord Howe and Lucien not to recognize it now. With great effort Katherine clamped down on the craving of her body for the physical pleasure Gerard offered. It wasn’t enough that her silly, feckless heart had thrown itself into his hands; her body cried out for his touch. Only her mind was left to sound a warning, that she was in danger of enslaving herself to a man who gave little of himself in return. Howe had had the use of her body, but he never tempted her heart or engaged her mind. It was no difficulty to view their marriage as a business arrangement that required certain tasks of her, much the way Birdie did the ironing as part of her duties as abigail. But with Gerard she had hoped for something else, something more. She had hoped for some small measure of the companionship she had yearned for her entire life and was taken off guard by how much it hurt to find he didn’t want any at all.
Stiffly she shook her head. “I’m very sorry, sir.” Her words sounded distant. “I feel exceedingly unwell tonight.”
His brow creased. “It came on very suddenly.”
She kept her face still and expressionless. It had once been so easy to do that; now it felt like her skin might crack. “Yes. If you will excuse me, I shall retire for the night.”
“Shall I send for Mrs. Dennis?” He sounded confused.
“Yes, thank you. Good night.” She gripped the folds of her skirt as she rose and went to the door. Her hands shook with the urge to cover her face. Head held high, she walked sedately from the room, up the stairs, and into her dressing room. Then she sat down on the chaise and let the tears fall.
Gerard watched his wife leave, confounded by the entire conversation. What had he done wrong? It must have been something egregious, for she’d turned back into an ice maiden before his eyes. Her expression fell away, her eyes grew distant, and her voice . . . He frowned. He hated that emotionless tone, as if every word had to be wrung from her lips, and none of it meant anything to her.
He rang for Bragg to finish clearing the table. “I’m going for a walk,” he told his man, before striding into the hall and jamming his hat on his head. He let himself out and paused on the steps for a moment, drawing in a deep breath of night air while he tugged on his gloves. A glance upward showed light glowing in the bedchamber window. He was tempted to go upstairs and coax her out of her temper. There was never a misunderstanding between them in bed, and Gerard was growing addicted to the nightly lessons in pleasure. Even though he was ostensibly the teacher, he was often caught by surprise at how erotic her response to his direction was. It was the best part of his days, in fact, an oasis of pure pleasure amid the grim, and so far thankless, duty of hunting the man who was trying to destroy his family. He’d been all over Bath and the surrounding area, searching for any hint of the man who had sent those letters, and found nothing. It was a relief to come home every evening and lose himself in making love to her. Why would she want to know the tedious details of his day when they could be so much more pleasantly occupied?
He set off at a brisk pace, irked that he had to take his exercise alone and outside instead
of in bed with Kate. But if she wanted to deny them both, so be it. He knew she reached climax when he made love to her—he made sure of it—and he knew her body well enough by now to know she’d been aroused at the dinner table. He wouldn’t be the only one going to bed frustrated tonight. Not that it made him feel any better. Why the devil would she plead a headache when they both wanted a good tupping?
A stiff breeze coming off the river helped cool his blood. He paced along the banks until a passing carriage caught his eye. It trundled up the hill in the general direction of the Assembly Rooms, lamps aglow. With a sigh, he turned his steps in that direction. Perhaps Kate cared more than she let on about social outings. He remembered that she didn’t have any suitable gowns when they arrived and wondered if her new wardrobe was still on order. He turned up Milsom Street and located the dressmaker’s shop, its bow window dark. Tomorrow he would see she had a proper gown and take her to the Assembly. He thought of holding her in his arms as they danced, of her smiling up at him, of the amethyst pendant gleaming at her bosom. And then he would take her home and peel the dress off her, and make love to her while she wore his necklace and nothing else. Yes, that was a fine idea.
He strolled on. Having a plan made him feel much better. He could invite Carter and his sister to join them. It would be good to have friends to converse with, especially if any whispers started circulating about the damned Durham Dilemma.
Suddenly it occurred to him that Kate would suffer from those whispers, too. She was part of the family now, part of Durham. He knew she was aware of the rumors; she’d known before asking him to marry her. Given how little success he’d had in finding the blackmailer, though, they might well both be considered outcasts before the end of the month. Again he wondered what moved her to bind herself to him when his prospects were so uncertain. Somehow he’d have to tease that explanation from her.
But until then . . . He swore out loud, and a couple walking past recoiled in affront. He tipped his hat and murmured an apology as he hurried away. He should assure Kate that he was trying to address the problem. That was surely what was behind her questions tonight, perhaps even her refusal of his offer to go out. He had unconsciously been treating her like one of his men in the regiment, giving orders and not explaining himself because he was the commanding officer and his word was to be obeyed without question. A wife was not a soldier. A woman rarely liked to be ordered about. Damn. He’d convinced himself he was sparing her the tedium of his task when really he appeared to be letting ruin overtake them both. No wonder she was annoyed at him.
Gerard turned his steps toward Queen Square. As he approached his own house, he glanced at the other lighted windows glowing along the street, wondering if perhaps the gossipy old ladies who called today had said something. He imagined someone like Lady Eccleston getting her claws into Kate and pouring a river of lies and innuendos into her ear. Some of the rumors about his father’s activities were reprehensible. They reached his ears no matter how hard he tried to avoid them. And if the old crows tried to pry more information out of Kate . . . He jogged up the steps and let himself in, glancing up to see if she’d put out the lamp yet. The bedroom window was dark.
In the hall he handed his coat and hat to Bragg. “Did you overhear any mention of that damned dilemma when my lady had visitors today?” he asked quietly.
“No, sir.” Bragg took his gloves as Gerard pulled them off. “There was much laughing and chattering. Milady was smiling when they left, and everyone seemed quite cordial.”
“Good.” That was some relief, at least. For now.
He went upstairs and prepared for bed, slipping quietly into the bedchamber. Kate lay on her side with her back to him, curled up on the far edge of the bed. He set the lamp on the table and eased under the covers, sliding up close to her. She didn’t move or speak, but her eyes were open. “Kate.” He stroked her shoulder, disappointingly clad in a voluminous nightdress. “Do you really want to know why I came to Bath?”
For a moment she didn’t answer. “Yes,” she whispered.
He exhaled and settled a little more comfortably against her. “I intend to find the man who’s trying to destroy my family name. The one who threatens to expose my father’s shameful past and strip me and my brothers of our inheritance.”
She turned her head a little. “How shall you find him?”
“By dogged determination. It’s nothing exciting. In fact, it’s rather lowering to talk about. I fear it would put you to sleep if I listed all the persons I’ve asked for help, all the rogues I’ve tried to bribe for information, all the pointless trips I’ve made.”
“I wouldn’t go to sleep.” She rolled to face him. “What will you do when you find him?”
Kill him, quickly and quietly. Or as close to that as he could manage. “I’ll determine that when I find him,” he replied. “And I will find him. One way or another, all this nonsense about my father’s scandal will be dealt with and settled. I don’t want you worried about it. But the gossip could grow ugly, and I wish I could shield you from it.”
“I knew it might.” She smiled at him, her honest, true smile. It was a little bit shy, but it brightened her eyes and softened her face remarkably. She was almost pretty when she smiled this way. “I made my vows honestly.”
He grinned in relief that the disagreement was over. Just as he’d thought, all was well between them in bed. “As did I.” He gathered her close, reaching for the buttons on her nightdress. “As did I.”
Chapter 15
The next day, the dressmaker herself delivered three new gowns, apologizing profusely for the delay. Katherine thanked her in bemusement; she hadn’t expected the dresses already, let alone a personal visit from the modiste.
“His Lordship said you would be wanting more as well,” added Mrs. Goddard. “I promise next time to be more prompt.”
“I see,” said Katherine slowly. Gerard had done this? He’d been gone when she woke this morning. “And did His Lordship say anything else?”
“He mentioned he’d like to see a red gown next time.” The woman’s sharp gaze swept Katherine from head to foot. “It would have to be the proper shade of red, but you’ve got the complexion for it.”
“Er . . . yes. I shall consider it.”
Mrs. Goddard’s smile was relieved. “Very good, madam. Now, shall we check the fit?”
While Katherine stood on the stool and let Mrs. Goddard make fine adjustments to the gowns, she studied herself in the mirror. Did she have the coloring for a red gown? Her mother had always said no, muted colors were best for her. She’d never had a bright dress with a low décolletage and a narrow skirt that skimmed her hips. The one she wore now was rich, vibrant blue, cut in the latest style and trimmed with seed pearls on the bodice and around the sleeves. It was a much lovelier dress than she’d ever owned before, and not just because it was a beautiful color. It suited her, she realized with amazement, better than any other dress ever had. The new petticoat was lighter and less full than her old ones, and the gown floated softly over it in slim lines. She looked taller, almost willowy. Her bosom even looked fuller.
“I look lovely,” she murmured, turning slightly to see different angles.
“Very lovely,” declared Mrs. Goddard. “Such a fine, slim figure! You’ve no need for those ruffles and trimmings. The cut must suit the figure, and the color the woman.”
Katherine continued to stare at herself. “I’ve always thought colors didn’t suit me.”
“Every woman has her colors.”
“Yes,” she whispered, beginning to smile. “Even I.”
What a difference a dress made. Mrs. Goddard delivered one evening gown and two day dresses, which meant Katherine finally had decent clothes to wear. After the dressmaker left, she laid out all her old dresses and surveyed them. Next to the new day dress of cream and gold stripes she wore now, her old clothing looked grim and tired. Even the dark blue dress looked like the garb of a woman twice her
age. “Get rid of them all,” she told Birdie. “I don’t want to see them again.”
“And about time, too,” declared her abigail. “His Lordship knows what he’s about, ordering you to wear colors.”
Katherine glanced at her. “That almost sounded like praise.”
Birdie sniffed as she gathered up the dreary dresses. “I must say, he’s been very decent since we reached Bath. His man Bragg is a bit rough, but accommodating enough. At least he’s used to following orders and doing as he’s told. All in all, ’tis a great deal better than life under Lord Howe.”
She had to smile. “I expected nothing less.” And it was, even with her uncertainties. When Gerard had left the house after dinner the night before, Katherine had felt a moment of alarm. When she peeked out the window to see him striding away, her heart nearly stopped. The last thing she wanted to do was drive him away. Her determination to keep some protective distance between them, to shield her too-vulnerable heart, only lasted until she thought of his turning away from her altogether. She had suffered real fear that he would spend the night elsewhere, in the arms of another woman. If he decided he would rather make love to someone else, Katherine worried she would have no use at all to him anymore. Her fortune was his, whether he ever spoke to her again or not. She had to adjust her thinking; if they got along best in bed, perhaps she should try to spend more time there with him. It would hardly be punishing.
But then he came home and confided in her. Not a great unburdening of his soul, but he told her why they were in Bath and why he went out all day. It didn’t surprise her at all that he wanted to hunt down the man responsible for the scandal threatening his family, and she could understand why he’d been so secretive about it. It warmed her heart that he had decided to tell her after all. And then he turned her over and made love to her until she could barely breathe, let alone ask more questions. It made up her mind. She had hoped to win her husband’s affection before attempting to stoke his desire for her, but there was no reason it couldn’t work in the other direction. The flattering new dress only made it seem more possible.
Blame It on Bath: The Truth About the Duke Page 16
