Whether it was wise or not wasn’t a question he wanted to examine too closely.
All that was important now was that it felt right to have her by his side.
* * *
Katherine sat behind the desk in her workshop warehouse. Amongst her blotter and inkwell, fabrics, trims, and sketches of new pillows vied for her attention. This week, everything had to be in order since the Secretary to the First Lady of the Bedchamber would visit.
She should be thinking about that appointment instead of yesterday’s kiss. She inhaled deeply as her pulse accelerated. Katherine traced her fingers over her lips, the sensation causing a riot of responses from her body. As she’d lain in bed last night, imagining Christian kissing her, her whole body throbbed with a deep ache. It still did, with a gentle pounding that made every one of her senses come to life, as if awakening from a deep sleep. No one had ever touched her, but last night Christian did in her bedroom … at least, he did in her dreams.
That wasn’t the whole truth.
What she’d fantasized about was not Christian kissing her, but her kissing him. She sighed as the sweet memories consumed her. As she’d pressed her lips against his, he’d explored her with his hands, each gentle touch learning what her body liked. She’d been bold in her kiss, savoring every taste and touch, conquering him in a way that no other woman ever had. He did the same to her. He’d filled his hands with her breasts, weighing and kneading them until she’d whimpered. When he’d rubbed his thumbs against her pouting nipples, her cry at the exquisite sensation became lost as he took control of their kiss. When he trailed his hand slowly down the curve of her waist, she wanted more. She wanted his hand to travel to the place where she ached … only for him.
“Kat?” Beth Howell stood in the doorway. “Do you have a moment?”
Instantly, her erotic daydream fractured into a thousand pieces at the gentle voice. “Of course. Do come in.”
Beth crossed the threshold of the door and stood with her hands clasped in front of her, a patient pose that Katherine was thankful for. It meant that all was well with production. Days ago, Kat had introduced her dear friend to her employees as Miss Beth Howell, who’d come to town to help prepare for the secretary’s visit. Everyone had welcomed her with true affection. They were well aware that the contract meant new opportunities for them all.
Beth had settled in without the need for much supervision. She possessed a keen business and organizational sense, and Katherine trusted her with everything. Kind and fair to the employees, Beth ensured that any hiccup in the production was handled efficiently with little fuss. If a seamstress ran low of a certain ribbon for a project, Beth was the one that dug through the supplies and found more. No job was too big or small for her. In the few days that she’d been there, she’d offered a couple of her own embroidery designs. They were bold and striking, and Kat had immediately loved them. She planned to incorporate them into a new line of linens.
But that wasn’t all. Beth was aware of Kat’s constant concern about finances, so she’d shared a few ideas she’d developed at her brother’s estate on how to control inventory. It would save at least ten pounds a month in expenses.
Simply put, Beth was a treasure. And Kat had no idea how she’d managed without her for so long. Without her help, Katherine wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the secretary’s visit and assist Christian at the same time.
“I posted a letter to my brother’s solicitor and asked that he keep me informed of my brother’s travels,” Beth said as she picked up several samples that had fallen on the floor. “Do you think Randford would mind if I have any response forwarded to Mr. Hanes’s office?”
“I can’t imagine he would.” Katherine walked to Beth’s side. “Any clue when your brother might arrive back in London?”
“No.” Beth straightened the samples into an orderly pile on Kat’s desk. “I hope he stays in Austria for at least several months … until things are settled.” She swallowed, then smoothed her hand down her throat in obvious unease.
“What do you think will happen when he returns?” Kat took her friend’s hand in hers.
“He’ll probably try to marry me off as soon as possible.” She squeezed Kat’s hand. “I won’t do it again.”
“Was marriage to Meri so horrible?” Kat asked softly.
“No. But he wasn’t interested in me. I can see that now.” Beth lowered her voice. “I think I’m the type of person who would prefer to live on my own. I need at least part of my fortune to do that.”
“I understand. But what about companionship?”
The brief glimpse of pain in her friend’s eyes was quickly replaced with resolution. “I have you and Constance. We’ll be friends for life, don’t you think?”
Kat nodded with a smile. “You’re welcome to stay with me and Willa forever if you’d like.”
“Thank you.” Beth leaned close to Katherine. “As long as you let me keep working for you.”
“It’s a promise.” Kat laughed.
By then, they’d walked out of Kat’s office and were standing on a second-floor balcony that provided an excellent view of the operation below. Ten employees, all women, worked steadily on the latest orders of feather duvets and pillows. Several of them worked by the windows as they embroidered the pillowcases that would be delivered by the end of the week. Some of the designs were family initials, some aristocratic family crests. One thing Katherine had noticed was the lower the title, the more likely the order would be for linens to feature the embroidered design of the crest. It was as if the lady of the house wanted to remind everyone the position they held in society.
How different her friend Helen’s decorating tastes were from the others’. She’d only wanted her first initial intertwined with her husband’s first initial on the linens. Helen had said it was a sweet sentiment to their love.
A sudden image of a K and a C intertwined like lovers popped into her thoughts. She wanted to do that for her husband someday.
She’d never once considered doing that for her and Meriwether.
Immediately, such thoughts vanished as her gaze caught on a person who walked as if he were the owner of the factory instead of her. “Why is Marlen Skeats walking our floor?”
Beth discreetly shook her head while she watched his every step. “I saw him outside the other day. This makes the third time this week he’s been in the neighborhood. He thinks because he’s the biggest supplier of linens in England, he should automatically win the contract. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what he wants. He must have heard the secretary has an appointment to see our goods.”
“His product is inferior to ours.” Katherine sniffed, then added for good measure, “The way he treats his workers should be outlawed. A rabid dog is given more respect than he gives his employees.”
“When we’re awarded the contract, we should hire them,” Beth said.
“Excellent idea. I’m going downstairs,” Kat declared.
“Do you mind if I wait in your office?” Beth turned so her back was to the floor. “In the off chance he would recognize me.”
“Of course. Close the door behind you, dearest.” Katherine started down the steps to intercept the interloper.
Several of Katherine’s workers glanced up with curious looks when Skeats passed their stations.
By then, Kat had arrived on the shop floor. She slowed her step and smiled in reassurance at each one of her employees.
“Mr. Skeats, what a surprise to find you here.” Katherine congratulated herself on the ability to keep her voice friendly. “How may I assist you?”
Whatever he wanted, she would deal with it politely and quickly, then send him on his way. She stopped in front of him, effectively blocking his pathway.
“Good morning, Lady Meriwether.” He bowed as one would expect of a gentleman, but Kat knew enough of the man to know he wasn’t one. He looked around the workroom. “This is quite an operation, my lady. It’s such a shame we have to scrape
the barrel for competent workers. If you’d like, I can always send those we refuse employment to your way.”
Katherine wrinkled her nose. She smelled something rotten, much like the skunk before her. “Somehow I have managed to find the most qualified people for the positions here. Every single employee from the seamstresses to my delivery boy Rodney, who also cleans the work floors, is exemplary. However, I thank you for your kind offer.” She didn’t hide the hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“Are you out of mourning already? I thought mayhap a wife of your position, especially one married to a duke’s son, might abide a little longer”—he scrunched his thumb and forefinger together in a display of feigned concern—“to a respectable mourning period.”
“My late husband would have approved of whatever I did,” Katherine shot back in answer. She clasped her hands in a show of contriteness. “Forgive me for my outburst, but may I share the truth?”
“I’m all ears, Lady Meriwether.” Skeats smiled. “Do tell.”
She leaned in as if divulging a secret. “I never need any man’s approval.”
“We shall see,” he grunted in displeasure. “You’ll need the secretary’s, and he’s a man.” Skeats turned around slowly and surveyed the work floor. “What does the Duke of Randford think of your little operation here? I sincerely doubt he approves.”
“It really doesn’t make any difference what the duke thinks.” Katherine stood tall and straightened her shoulders. “I’m not married to him.”
A long shadow fell over Katherine’s shoulder. She didn’t have to turn around to deduce who had joined them. She turned and dipped a shallow curtsey. “Your Grace.”
“Your Grace.” Skeats bowed deeply.
“Mr. Skeats.” Christian’s voice was so low, it sounded like a growl. “Are you following Lady Meriwether?”
“Oh, no, sir.” Skeats shook his head vehemently.
“Are you following me, then?” Christian asked.
“No, sir. I didn’t know you were going to be here. I was in the neighborhood.”
“What exactly are you doing here?” Christian gaze bored through the man.
Skeats waved a hand toward Katherine. “I simply stopped by to tell Lady Meriwether how marvelous her operation is.” He curled his lip slightly, then addressed Kat. “Since we’re both under consideration for the Prince Regent’s business, if you need any advice or help, I hope you’ll ask.”
Only when ice was plentiful in hell would she ask him for anything.
Skeats surveyed the floor once again. “As you probably surmise, I’m the odds-on favorite for winning the contract since I’m the biggest supplier of fine bedclothes.”
“Modesty is one of your fortes, I see,” Christian mocked with a smile.
Skeats completely missed the sarcasm and took a turn around the work floor, calling out from behind, “Indeed, Your Grace. If my orders become too much, I could send the excess Lady Meriwether’s way. Though, I must say”—he reached across a worktable and smoothed a hand over a finished duvet—“the quality of your linens is outstanding. You’re becoming quite well-known through the ton.”
“How kind of you to say so.” Katherine caught up to him, then took him by the arm and led him back to the front of the workroom. It was obvious to everyone he was evaluating the shop and their products. Truly, she’d grown tired of his antics.
“Is that Belgium lace?” Skeats asked, making a beeline to the table that contained her inventory. “Where did you get it?”
But Christian blocked him by standing before him. “Perhaps another day, Skeats.”
If Katherine wasn’t mistaken, Christian had sneered slightly at the man. “I need to speak to Lady Meriwether. As one could imagine, I’m a busy man, and I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
Then, Christian flanked her side, effectively obstructing Skeats’s view of the floor.
“Thank you so much for your visit today.” Katherine led Skeats to the door. “Perhaps the next time, you might send a note ahead?” From now on, she’d ensure that the door was locked and the windows covered.
“Of course.” He took one step outside and stopped. “Your Grace, one more thing…”
She held her breath, praying he wouldn’t come back.
“A pleasure to see you again,” Skeats called out.
Christian stood immobile, not answering back.
“Lady Meriwether, may the best man win.” He waved goodbye.
She returned the gesture half-heartedly. “Or the best woman.”
He didn’t acknowledge her response but kept on his way.
As soon as she returned inside and closed the door, she fisted her hands. “The nerve of that man. He was not here for a social call. He wanted to find something he could use to undermine my chance of winning the contract.”
“I’m afraid that’s the case.” Through the window directly across, Christian glanced at the retreating figure down the street. “Would you like some of my servants here to keep him out? They could watch the doors. Most are from the military.”
“That won’t be necessary. I make certain everything is in perfect order. When I’m meeting my appointments at the emporium, Beth is here.” She exhaled, hoping to relieve her frustration at Skeats’s impromptu visit. “Once the secretary arrives to evaluate the business, perhaps we can all get back to work. Thank you for the offer of help.”
He smiled in pleasure, one of those grins that could coax the sun to shine at midnight.
“You’re welcome anytime, but I didn’t really do anything.” He took her bare hand in his and squeezed gently as he bowed. Through the fine leather, his heat branded her. “You were the one to steer him away. It appears that Isabelle isn’t the only one who can tidy things around here.” He gave her the package he’d held in the other hand. “Here are a couple of books from the nursery at Rand House. I thought Isabelle might enjoy them. One is a picture book and the other a primer of the alphabet.”
“How thoughtful.”
He slid a glance her way. “I have my moments.”
At every turn, he surprised her. Her heart beat a little quicker at the sight of his cheeks reddening. “I’ll make certain Isabelle receives these. She’ll adore them.”
He slowly glanced around the room. “You employ all these people?”
She nodded in answer.
Christian clasped his hands behind his back as he regarded the floor. “This is remarkable how successful your business is. When I was here yesterday, I had no idea you employed so many. Now I’m starting to understand why my half brother married you.”
“Is that an insult or a compliment?” Katherine laughed and turned to face him. At the sight of his grim face, she quickly sobered. “What’s wrong?”
“Meriwether’s personal items, including his papers, arrived at Hanes’s offices a little over an hour ago. Hanes is sending them over later this afternoon.” He paused for a moment. “I’d like for you to come to Rand House and view them with me. If you’re amenable and your schedule allows.”
“Of course. I’ll inform Beth and meet you there.”
He nodded. “It’s not something I’m looking forward to.”
Perhaps it made his death all the more real for Christian. She suspected that he carried deep feelings for his late half brother, locked away and out of sight. Though others might be distracted by the duke’s distance and sometimes churlishness, she saw it for what it was—a veneer to keep his heart protected.
“Until then, Lady Meriwether.” Christian bowed his head. “I shall wait for you to call upon me at your earliest convenience.” With another nod for her, he swept through the door.
A squall that could blow one over would wither in his presence. Which left Katherine wondering if she could withstand such a force of nature. One thing was certain. She was truly thankful such a force was in her life.
Chapter Thirteen
“Your Grace, Lady Meriwether is here,” Wheatley announced.
Christian pulled off
his gardening gloves and watched Katherine enter the conservatory. She stopped inside the door, and her unmasked enchantment with the room immediately brought a smile to his face. He felt the same pleasure every time he entered his private refuge.
“What a wondrous place,” she exclaimed as she pivoted on one foot, taking in the magnificence of the glass walls. Her gaze darted down the neat rows of rosebushes and orange trees.
“Thank you, Wheatley.” Christian nodded a dismissal to the butler, then walked to Katherine’s side. “I was hoping you’d come sooner rather than later.”
She blushed prettily, the color reminding him of wild roses. “This is an amazing place.” She tilted her head back and studied the glass dome above them.
Christian mimicked her movement. “It’s my favorite room in the house. If I had my druthers, I’d throw out everything but this, then start anew. Come. I want to show you something.” He took her hand in his and led her down the row of red roses, then turned right until they stood in front of his worktable.
“Oh my,” she said softly. “I’ve never seen such a rose. What a stunning crimson. It’s almost burgundy.”
“It’s a Portland rose named after the Duchess of Portland. My mother collected roses, and this was one of her favorites.” He clipped off a stem with a large bloom, taking care to cut the thorns. Satisfied with his work, he handed it to her.
“It’s beautiful.” She brought it to her delicate nose and inhaled. A smile spread slowly across her lips. “How lovely.”
“Not as lovely as you,” he murmured.
Her gaze shot to his.
Christian took a step closer and rubbed the back of his forefinger slowly across one petal of the rose she held. With their heads bent together, it would have taken little effort to close the distance between them and kiss her. “You must forgive my earlier mood at your workshop. Finding out that Meriwether’s personal items had arrived made his death irrefutable, if that makes sense.”
A Duke in Time--The Widow Rules Page 16