Page 155 of Kathryn

“I beg your pardon?” Katie said.

“Nothing,” he said. “Go on.”

“His father hosted a ball for him and his new bride. I did not want to go, but my aunt insisted. I thought he would just ignore me,” she confessed, loath to tell him just how petty Jasper had been. “But he—he taunted me that night, taking pleasure in baiting me in front of our neighbors. It was—it was one of the worst nights of my life and my aunt would not allow me to leave.”

His arm tightened around her, but he did not speak.

“The ball was awful, but it was not much better when I was in bed that night. I was terrified of the future and was awake all night but still unable to think. I went for a ride at first light hoping to clear my head. I was upset and stupid and reckless and tried to jump—” Her voice broke, and she choked back a sob before she could finish. “I was thrown and lost the child.”

He held her so tightly she could scarcely breathe. “Oh, Kathryn, my poor darling.”

Katie had been hanging by a thread and his tender words and gentle tone—one she’d never heard from him before—snapped her control and she sobbed. Once she started, she could not seem to stop, crying uncontrollably just as she’d done all those years ago when she’d woken up on the ground, the skirt of her habit soaked in blood.

Dulverton stopped Centurion and wrapped both arms around her, holding her silently in his strong arms while she poured her grief out into the night.

Katie cried until there was nothing left, until she felt empty, the old pain burnt away. She realized when she emerged from her weeping that Dulverton was not only holding her, but was pressing light kisses on her head, temple, and cheek, carefully avoiding the swollen part of her face.

“Th-thank you,” she said hoarsely. “I can continue now.”

He answered with a firm kiss on her crown and a gentle squeeze around her waist. “There is no need to hurry,” he murmured into her hair. “I can let you down and we can walk or sit, if you would rather?”

Katie eyes burned with fresh tears at his thoughtful, generous offer. “Thank you, but I am fine.”

One last kiss before he took up the reins and they moved on.

Katie cleared her throat, feeling a sudden urgency to tell the rest of the story and be done with the painful subject. “My aunt found out the truth when I went to her terrified by all the bl-blood. She told my mother, of course. The countess was furious, disgusted, and ashamed. She forbade me to tell my sisters or—or anyone else. I obeyed her until a few weeks ago when I told Becky—er, Stone.”

Dulverton’s hand, which still rested on her belly, tightened and he pulled her even closer, a low rumbling emanating from his chest. “If I had known all of this back there, I would have killed Staines,” he seethed.

“That is why I could not tell you. Everyone says you are a capital shot and lethal with a blade. I—I did not want you to be punished for killing a peer’s son.”

“A capital shot?” he repeated in an amused voice. “I think you have been listening to gossip, my love.” He pressed more kisses against her hair, his breath hot on her scalp.

My love?

Katie did not dare to hope he meant it as anything more than a casual endearment. “So that is why I had to come alone tonight to—to end this. You see that, don’t you?”

“No.”

Katie bit her lip at his curt response, recalling Becky’s words from earlier. “Are—are you going to beat me?”

Dulverton snorted. “Something tells me that you would not respond well to a beating, Kathryn.” Before she could agree, he added, “And I am not the sort of man who beats women. However, if you ever keep an important matter from me again, I—”

“I won’t! I promise. And this—this was all of it.”

“All?” he asked, sounding skeptical.

“I give you my word. It was all.” But then Katie recalled one more thing.

“What?” he demanded.

“I did not say anything.”

“No. But your body tensed. What is it, Kathryn?”

“It is nothing bad,” she hastened to assure him.

“If it is not bad, then why won’t—”