Kate considered turning back to the lodge and running toward it with all the haste extreme fear could muster. She had not come very far. But she knew she would not have time to reach it before she was caught. He was not far in front of her. The winding of the driveway had denied her a long warning of his approach. And if she were to be caught anyway she would not humiliate herself by fleeing and showing fear. She unconsciously lifted her chin and walked on. The marquess continued to come toward her, a half-smile on his face, a riding whip tapping lightly against his Hessians.
“Good afternoon, my lord,” Kate said with a cool nod of her head as they drew close to each other.
“It is indeed, madam,” he replied, moving across the driveway before stopping, legs apart, directly in her path. “It is indeed.”
Kate abandoned her instinct to play ignorant. She stopped walking too, making no move to try to dodge around him. “I have nothing more to say to you, my lord,” she said. “I believe it would be consistent with your title and your profession of the name of gentleman to stand aside and let me pass. I have several times made it clear to you that your attentions are not welcome to me.”
“Yes, Kate,” he said, his eyes narrowing, the half-smile gone, “and I have finally taken you at your word. I shall make very sure this afternoon that my attentions are in no way welcome to you. After today, my fine lady, you will come to my bed or anywhere else I choose to summon you at the mere crooking of my finger.” The riding crop was tapping rhythmically against his boot.
Kate swallowed. “Do you not merely demean yourself to pursue a woman who has expressed only contempt for you?” she asked.
“No one . . .” he said, and paused for effect. “No one expresses contempt for the Marquess of Uppington, my dear, without living to regret it. Do please step off the path and through to the other side of the trees. I believe everyone from the house is accounted for, and visitors are not expected. But I have no wish to be interrupted on this occasion. You may not expect help from your beau, by the way. I left him escorting two ladies up the hill more than a mile from here.” He gestured to the trees at the side of the driveway with what appeared to be a perfectly courtly gesture.
Kate swallowed again. “I stay here, my lord,” she said, “until you remove yourself from my path.”
He almost snarled in reply, Kate was fascinated—and terrified—to notice. He had her arm in his grip and her person through the elm trees to the deserted lawn beyond before she could draw breath. Unfortunately, she saw in one hasty glance, there were plenty of other trees in the vicinity. There was little chance of being spotted by any wandering gardener.
Lord Uppington shook her arm and released her. “Now, my girl,” he said, triumph in his voice, “we shall see if you are ready to talk sense.”
“I assume that if I am not, sense will be talked into me with that whip?” Kate said, injecting as much scorn into her voice as she was able.
“I really think it will be unnecessary for me to use it,” he said with a smile. He was tapping the whip against his boot.
“On the contrary,” Kate said. “If you believe that fear of your whip will drive me into your arms, my lord, I can assure you that you do not know me. I would infinitely prefer a sound whipping than a single touch of your body.”
“Oh, come, come,” he said impatiently. “I am not a barbaric man, Kate. I am not often forced to use violence on my women. Why will you not give up this senseless fight against me? Come. I shall put down the whip. I shall even forgive you for your vicious and unladylike treatment of me three days ago. Come to me, Kate.”
“You may wish to take up your whip again, my lord,” Kate told him coolly. “I am going to scream.”
And she did so, thoroughly relishing the unaccustomed vocal activity. She was quite convinced that her eardrums were about to shatter.
The marquess had not retrieved his whip, but he did grab Kate painfully by the upper arms and shake her until her head was flopping dizzily on her neck.
“It seems that I shall have to take what I want without any attempt to soften you,” he said through his teeth. “You have no one but yourself to blame, madam . . . What the deuce?”
This last was said as a snarling mass hurled itself at him and separated him from Kate. Josh Pickering was using his head as a battering ram. His arms were flailing in wide arcs.
Kate watched in horror as Lord Uppington reached down for his whip. He did not intend to use it. He disdained to fight with someone like Josh Pickering. He merely intended to crack it a few times in order to establish his superiority before making as dignified a retreat as he could. Kate realized that even as she rushed forward with crusading zeal to protect Josh. She held out her hands to divert the whip. She succeeded instead in deflecting it from the grass at which it had been directed.
She did not even see Lord Uppington go. She was too preoccupied with the pain of her stinging palms.
“Missus?” Josh was hovering in front of her, sounding as if he were about to cry.
“Yes, Josh,” she said shakily. “I am all right. You saved me. I am all right.”
“Very bad man, missus,” he said, reaching out as if to pat her on the shoulder, but removing his hand without doing so. “Bad man. Josh not let him hurt missus.”
“No.” Kate resolutely forced herself to stand still. “You were very good, Josh. I am very, very grateful to you, my friend. Thank you.”
He watched helplessly as she held her hands before her and bit her upper lip. “Oh, Josh,” she said, “was I not foolish? Look at what I did to myself.”
“Bad man,” he said again. “Josh take you back to the house, missus. Bad man not hurt you no more.”
“Thank you,” she said, looking around her and retrieving her reticule with careful fingertips from where it had landed on the ground. She kept a smile on her face as she set one foot ahead of the other and began to walk to the Abbey. She had to restrain herself from dancing in agony. She concentrated on one thought: reaching her room and her bed without anyone seeing her. She did not at all consider why she wanted not to be seen. She wanted her room. She must reach it without fainting. She was glad of Josh’s escort, though he offered no physical support.
But she was not to be so fortunate as to reach her room undetected. Even as she crossed the terrace before the curved stairway leading to the main door and turned to thank Josh once more, Sir Harry Tate came around the corner from the side of the house. He was not moving at his accustomed indolent speed. There was no chance that she could enter the house without having to speak with him.
He strode toward her as if she were his long-lost love, Kate noted with weary dismay. He did not at all look his usual self.
