Her speech stalled out, as if she had lost her burst of bravado mid-sentence. He held his breath. And for some unknown reason he felt unaccountably tense for what she might have been about to say. And then she spoke again, and he knew why.
“Except to marry.”
“Marry?” The word came out on a hot breath, his shock obvious in it. Was she set to marry someone then? And why did the idea pain him so, especially as he was set to marry someone himself?
She nodded. “Yes. I have come to the conclusion that, should I marry, I can, if not silence, at least quiet these damaging rumors. I can start anew, put my past behind me. And hopefully gain some portion of respectability back.”
“Who?” he found himself asking, the word bursting from his chest for all he had no desire to know the answer.
To his surprise, she shrugged. “I’ve no clue, to be honest.” And then she laughed, a bitter thing, such a foreign sound coming from her lips. “Despite my unfortunate reputation, I assume there are still a handful of men on Synne who would not be opposed to take me as wife.”
Her words carried a sting to them, and he could not fail to acknowledge they were at least partially aimed toward him. And well deserved, too, for how unfeeling he was in his one-word questions.
“I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel as if it was an impossibility.”
Her face crumpled, her brief bout of bravado gone. “Once more, you have no need to apologize. I daresay if I were the one looking in from the outside, I would react in much the same manner.”
But when she made to head back into the house, he couldn’t help but stop her.
“Don’t do that,” he said softly.
She turned back to him with wide eyes that reflected the stars above their heads. “Don’t return to the party?” She gave a sad laugh. “As much as I would wish it, I don’t think that’s possible.”
“No,” he replied. “Don’t shrug off my apology.”
She continued to stare at him, as if what he said was utter nonsense and she could not comprehend he was even saying it. And his heart broke a little. It was all too obvious she believed she did not deserve his apology. Unable to help himself, he stepped closer and took her hand in his. She inhaled, a soft sound he felt down to his toes.
“No matter that I did not mean to insult you, I did. You should not have to accept that behavior. You deserve to be respected.” His grip tightened on her fingers, anger burning under his skin as he thought of what she had been subjected to that evening. “And if I could force those people that insulted you tonight to apologize, I would.”
For the first time in their exchange, she smiled a true smile. Her eyes still held hints of wryness, however, proof that she did not believe him one bit.
“You are kind, Your Grace,” she said, squeezing his fingers before releasing them with seeming reluctance. “Not that I am surprised, as you have always been kind. But we had best return.”
She was right. They had spent far too long out here as it was, each second courting disaster. He wished he could continue to convince her that she was worthy of respect. More than that, however, he was loath to leave her.
But it was necessary. “You go on inside first,” he managed, stepping aside so she could pass him on the path. “It wouldn’t do to be seen returning together.”
Was that regret that flashed across her face? But mayhap it was just the shifting moonlight making it appear so, for the next moment she nodded and hurried forward. Before she opened the side door, however, she turned back to face him.
“Thank you,” she whispered, “for not judging me, for being a friend.”
And then she was gone. He stared at the place she had been for a long time, trying to ignore the quiet part of him that wished he could be much more.
Chapter 9
After the debacle at Danesford the evening before, the very last thing Katrina wanted to do was to attend the weekly subscription ball at the Assembly Rooms. But Lady Tesh refused to hear a single one of her pleas.
“I blame myself, of course,” the dowager viscountess said, looking up from cooing over Freya, who was lounging in as unconcerned a manner as a dog was capable of on Lady Tesh’s massive four-poster bed. “I allowed you to absent yourself from most of our outings and hide away here at Seacliff. Perhaps if I had been firmer with you from the start, we could have squashed this talk right away. Instead it festered into something ugly, and now the blasted vicar has gone and run with it. But if you think I’m going to allow you to skulk at home any longer, beaten down by these horrible people, you are quite wrong. As a matter of fact, I am going to make a declaration for this evening that you shall not sit beside me all night long as you typically do, but shall dance every dance.”
Katrina gaped at her. “You cannot mean it.”
“Oh, I do mean it,” her employer stated, eyeing her severely before passing a small, gilded brush to her maid. “Be certain to brush my darling Freya well before putting her to bed, do you hear? Otherwise her sweet fur gets horribly matted.” As the maid, accepting the brush with a stoicism that only years of such orders could have achieved, turned to fuss over the dog, Lady Tesh returned her attention to Katrina.
“You shall not allow them to cow you,” she ordered. “You shall hold your head high and ignore their pathetic chattering, and soon it will be behind you. Just as it was the first time.”
Which sounded entirely too much like Honoria, so much so that Katrina felt the insane urge to laugh bubble up in her. Blessedly she managed to swallow it back. It would not have been a laugh of amusement; rather, it would have been a wild thing, that no doubt would have preceded tears. And she was done crying. Especially after the mess that had been last night.
As she followed Lady Tesh from the room, however, and they made their way below stairs in preparation to leave for the evening, she found herself remembering how the duke had held her in his arms during her bout of tears, and she was forced to come to the conclusion that mayhap last night had not been all bad. And when he had looked at her not with condemnation or pity but a gentle worry, when he had insisted she deserved respect, she had not felt like a scandalous young woman whose life had been ruined beyond redemption. No, she had felt like a woman who was cherished deeply.
