A small red heart embroidered in the same color thread lay in the middle of a pillow slightly larger than a pin cushion. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall. It was similar to the one that Kat’s mother had made for her.
Christian placed the pillow on his lap, then opened the letter.
My dearest love,
I have important business that took me from London. Time is of the essence, so I departed early this morning after the sun rose.
I made this for you last night. It holds my love for you. All of it. If you ever doubt my true affection, just gaze at this pillow.
You have my heart forever.
K
Christian stared out the window. There wasn’t a word about her selling her business or whether she would return to him. He didn’t even know if he’d hear from her again.
He glanced down at the pillow, then pressed his lips against the heart. Kat had been wrong. This pillow didn’t hold her love. He did.
Because of that, he’d live through hell and gladly sit beside Lucifer as long as he found her. He slipped the pillow into a pocket sewn on the inside of his morning coat.
He had no doubt now, Katherine James was more than a thief. The evidence was the empty hole in the middle of his chest. He would find her, then bring her home.
* * *
Christian slowly strolled through the London streets on his way to the warehouse, where Reed and his men were busy working. After the soiree, they’d been inundated with orders. Three days had passed since Katherine had left, but it felt as if Christian had endured a decade of torment. He still had little, if any, information about her disappearance.
He’d visited Kat’s workshop and her place of business. Both places were empty as if closed for good. Afterward, he’d called on Constance and Beth, hoping they could tell him more about her disappearance. Venetia had greeted him and politely informed him that Constance wasn’t feeling well and Beth was attending her. When he’d asked Venetia if she knew anything about Kat, she’d shaken her head and said she was sorry.
After that, he’d called on Helen, who hadn’t heard from Kat. She seemed genuinely surprised that Kat had left London. Even Morgan hadn’t heard from Willa.
The woman had left without a trace, except the pieces of Christian’s crumbling heart littering London.
“Your Grace?”
Christian slowed to a stop then turned. He should have kept on walking. It was his typical luck to run into Marlen Skeats.
A disingenuous smile crossed the man’s lips. “How fortuitous to find you this morning. I was going to call upon you.”
“For what purpose?” he practically growled.
“A business proposal. I thought we could come to an agreement to help one another.” The hopefulness in Skeats’s face soured Christian’s already dampened mood.
He stared, not hiding his contempt. “I’m not interested.”
“Come now, Your Grace, I’m aware of the situation your brother left for you and Miss James to deal with.”
“Why are you calling her Miss James?”
“We discussed her situation.” A feigned look of pity crossed his face. “She’s pulled out of the contract and left London for good.”
He didn’t answer. It was inconceivable. The contract was Kat’s pride and joy.
Skeats nodded with a smug expression.
All sound seemed to have disappeared from the street as Christian hung on every word.
“It was apparent that she didn’t have the financial backing to do the work.” Skeats rocked back on his heels and puffed out his chest much like a Dorking rooster. “Happens all the time to businesses that don’t have the resources to make a go of it.” He leaned close as if they were confidants. “Plus, with her conviction as a thief, imagine the disgrace your charity would have experienced being associated with one such as her. It took a little convincing on my part, but she fled with her tail between her legs.”
“You convinced her?” he asked while tamping down the urge to roar.
“Yes,” Skeats answered, turning serious. “I told her that I’d tell the secretary about her past if she didn’t rescind the contract and leave London. A military man such as you can appreciate the rules. They’re meant to be followed.”
“And what rule did she break?” Christian asked, not keeping the menace out of his voice.
“Once a thief, always a thief. Pretending to be a lady doesn’t hide the truth. If you didn’t know, she’s a bastard. Her mother was a mediocre actress.” Skeats lifted a brow. “I have an appointment with the Secretary to the First Lady of the Bedchamber to discuss how I can take over the contract. I’ll be more than happy to work with you and your charity to supply the additional items that the Prince Regent wants.”
Christian’s earlier ire ignited into a full-blown fury. “You sanctimonious arse,” he seethed, then raked his gaze over Skeats as if he were offal. “When did you have this discussion with her?”
“There’s no need to be uncivil,” Skeats added with a sniff. “To answer your question, at your soiree.”
“You weren’t even invited. Which means you trespassed in my house.” He could have the man arrested for such a charge, and no one would even ask for evidence. A duke’s word carried that much influence. It took every ounce of strength Christian possessed not to bloody the man’s nose. “Do you know where she went?”
Taken aback, Skeats shook his head, then stepped out of Christian’s path. “She didn’t say, but I’m not surprised she didn’t tell you. It’s her nature.”
Christian methodically forced his hands into fists. Katherine’s secrets had been unearthed by the scum in front of him. Skeats had forced her away. She’d sold her business, cutting her ties to London and him. It took every ounce of restraint not to challenge him right there to settle their differences on a dueling field.
Christian stepped closer, then lowered his voice. “It’s my nature to tell you to go to hell. I will never do business with you, nor will I ever acknowledge your presence.” He took another step. “When you see me, you turn the opposite direction. Understand?”
Skeats didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and walked briskly until he was out of sight.
The more Christian found out about the night of the soiree, the more convinced he became that he’d never see Katherine again.
He patted his coat pocket where he kept the pillow she had given him. Before bed, he’d placed it next to his side. When he woke from the unrelenting dreams of trying to find her, his heart had pounded in the stillness of the empty night. Automatically, he’d reached for the pillow and breathed deeply. Last night, the scent had diminished in strength.
Another piece of her slipping away.
He wouldn’t let it stand. Without a second thought, Christian purposely strode through the streets. Several times he heard his name called. To his acquaintances, he raised a hand but didn’t pause to chat. He was a man who wouldn’t stop until he found her.
Finally, he stood on Kat’s front doorstep. His blood pounded thick through his veins, like it always did when the call to battle sounded. But this time it was different. His ire at Skeats and his broken heart over Kat’s disappearance combined into a maelstrom that would not be defeated.
He pounded on the knocker. If there was a God in heaven, Venetia would answer.
He lifted his hand to knock again when the door opened.
Venetia greeted him with a smile. “I was wondering when I might see you again.” She leaned close and whispered, “I can’t invite you inside and talk to you alone.”
His eyes narrowed.
Before he could ask why, Venetia stepped over the threshold, then closed the door behind her. “But no one said anything about the outside.” She winked.
“Where is she?” The yearning in his voice was unmistakable, but he didn’t care at this point.
“I can’t say.” Her brow furrowed. “But Willa told me specifically not to mention York to you.”
Fo
r the first time since the soiree, Christian could breathe again. “I thank you, madame.”
She nodded, then opened the door. Instead of walking back into the house, she turned. “Please hurry. I miss them both.”
He nodded, then turned for home. As soon as he made his way inside, he called for his sleekest carriage and fastest team of four.
By nightfall, he should be well on his way to York.
Which meant he’d soon find Katherine.
* * *
Each creak of the carriage wheels brought Katherine closer and closer to the magistrate’s office. It also took her away from Christian. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the leather squab. She couldn’t think like that. Whatever happened in the next two hours would be key to allowing her to return to him whole.
Yet, the emptiness inside her threatened to swallow her. If she wasn’t successful in getting her name cleared, then she’d have to face letting Christian go. Now she understood how people who suffered from a broken heart could wither away.
She wouldn’t think like that. It would work. For once in her life, she’d face her demons and fight until the end. When she’d first arrived, she had little trouble finding Mr. FitzWilliam, who had agreed to meet with her and the magistrate.
Katherine glanced out the carriage window as the beauty of the Yorkshire countryside passed. “Do you ever miss this place?” Without waiting for Willa to reply, Katherine continued, “I used to, but not anymore. You once said we needed to find our way in the world after my mother died. It’s not here. Our way is in London.”
Willa patted Katherine’s knee like she’d done a thousand times before whenever worry had a stranglehold over Kat. “Indeed, lass. We’ll find our way back there just as we always do.” A spry smile tugged at her lips as she waggled her eyebrows. “Perhaps someday we could take a holiday along the shore. I’ve always fancied dipping my toes in the ocean. Maybe I could learn to shuck oysters. You could create a soap to chase away the fish smell.”
For the first time in five days, Kat laughed. “Oysters are not fish.”
Willa dismissed her comment with a wave of her hand. “But they come from the same smelly place.”
Katherine stared straight as a new idea percolated. “Soap-making, you say. We could make some, then sell it along with the linens.”
“That’s my girl!” Willa clapped her hands together. “A fine idea for a new endeavor.” She grew quiet for a moment. “Wish I’d taught that Skeats fellow a lesson when I had the chance.”
“You mean a lesson with your dirk?” Kat shook her head. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
Willa started to argue, but Kat held up her hand. “This is for the best. There will be others like Skeats in my life, and I can’t have you always ready to defend me with a knife.”
Willa’s interest had turned to the countryside. After a moment or two, she broke the silence. “Why didn’t you tell the duke where you’re off to?”
A pesky tear fell, and Kat wiped it away. “He would have insisted upon coming and helping me. It would become fodder for the rumormongers that he paid to cover up my conviction. That would have hurt his reputation even more than it already is.”
“You have to tell him, lass.”
“Of course, I will. But I have to do this on my own,” Kat said softly. She was tired of feeling sorry for herself. It was exhausting. “All my life, I’ve known that I had been wronged. I’ve let people use my misfortune against me. With their looks, taunts, and scowls, I’ve allowed myself to feel as if I wasn’t worthy or somehow less of a person. Whenever I would meet someone, my first worry was whether they’d know about my past. That’s no way to live. With Christian, I want a life where I can give all of myself.”
Willa raised an eyebrow.
Katherine narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t tell Morgan, did you?”
“I may like the young man’s company, but it doesn’t mean I tell him tales he has no business knowing.” She huffed a breath. “As if I’d share such a secret with one of the duke’s employees. It’s your business, lass. Do you ever blame your mother for you being a bastard?”
“I could never blame her. She loved me.”
“Do you blame me for not being there and protecting ye when you were arrested?” Willa asked so softly that Katherine wasn’t certain she heard correctly.
“No.” Then in a firmer voice, Kat said, “I blame myself for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and for not fighting harder.” She leaned forward in her seat and took Willa’s hand in hers. “I would never hold you accountable for my mistakes.” She squeezed her hand. “My mother was the first person who loved me for who I was. You were the second.”
Willa wiped a tear from her eye. “Thank you, lass. I love you like my own.”
Katherine leaned forward a little more and kissed Willa on the cheek. “And I love you like my own.”
Willa straightened and tidied Katherine’s cloak like a mother would. “If I were your mother, it would be remiss of me not to tell you there is a third person who loves you. Your duke.”
“Do you think he’ll be angry?” Kat asked softly.
Willa shrugged. “I don’t know, lass. But if he is, I wouldn’t blame him.”
Before Kat could answer, the carriage slowed to a halt in front of a lovely estate on the outskirts of York. It was the home of Mr. George Dane-Fox, the local magistrate. A footman stood ready and opened the door.
In moments, they were escorted to the study, where Mr. FitzWilliam and the magistrate waited for their arrival.
She stood tall, didn’t twist her fingers, and smiled. “Good afternoon, Mr. Dane-Fox. My name is Miss Katherine James from London, and this is my companion, Miss Willa Ferguson.” She turned to Mr. FitzWilliam. “Hello, sir. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you being here.”
After greetings were exchanged, Mr. Dane-Fox had them all take a seat. “I read the letter Miss Howell sent. She speaks highly of you. Now, what can I help you with today?”
Katherine took a deep breath for fortitude. She could not fail. Her future with Christian depended on it. “I’d like to tell you what really happened ten years ago when I was convicted of stealing an apple.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Thank you for listening to both me and Mr. FitzWilliam.” Katherine shook Mr. Dane-Fox’s hand.
“Of course, Miss James. I was glad to be of assistance.” The magistrate bowed slightly and turned toward his study.
The footman opened the door. With Willa by her side, Katherine stepped out into the fresh air. The bright sun blinded her for a moment.
“Look, Kat,” Willa whispered. “He’s here.”
She blinked twice, not believing what she was seeing.
Christian leaned against the side of his massive travel carriage, staring at the ground. The instant he sensed the change in the air, he raised his gaze and found her. She stopped to drink in the sight of him. His face was drawn as if he’d lost weight, and shadows lingered beneath his eyes. It appeared he hadn’t slept any better than she had since they’d parted.
He didn’t move as she hurried down the steps to meet him. Marble had to be more pliant than his expression. After what seemed like an eternity, she reached his side. “Hello, Christian.”
“Katherine,” he answered.
No Kat. No sweetheart. Just Katherine, which perfectly matched the formal tone in his voice. She clasped her hands in front of her. “It’s good to see you. Actually, it’s better than good. It’s everything. But … how did you find me?”
“I called on Venetia. She stepped outside your house and told me. No one mentioned that she couldn’t talk to me outside.” A hint of displeasure sounded in his deep voice. “I believe Willa wanted her to mention York to me.”
Kat’s gaze flew to Willa, who had her back turned and was in a conversation with Morgan. As if she sensed Kat’s staring at her, she turned and shrugged in apology.
Christian called out to Morgan, “Why don’t y
ou take Willa in Miss James’s carriage?” His gaze slid to hers. “I’ll take Miss James with me.”
A coolness, almost an icy veneer, seemed to encase him. It reminded her of the first time they’d met. He was that man again, the one she’d first been introduced to at the solicitor’s office.
He helped her into the carriage, then let go of her hand immediately. She sat in the forward-facing seat, and he across from her. Without a word exchanged, he knocked on the roof. The jerk of the carriage caught her off guard, and she placed her hand on the bench beside her to balance.
“Where are we going?” she finally asked after several minutes.
“Wherever you’d like,” he answered. The reserve in his voice became unbearable.
“I’d like for you to stop the carriage.”
He complied instantly by knocking on the roof. Katherine swung the door opened, then turned his way. “I think we should walk. It might make the conversation easier.”
“For you?” he asked.
“No, for you,” she answered. “It might loosen you up a bit.” Without waiting for Christian to exit first and help her down, Kat took Iverson’s hand and carefully stepped to the ground, then strolled to a copse of trees. If memory served her correctly, an orchard of some type was on the other side. When they were far enough away from the carriage, she turned to face him.
Christian leaned against a tree. His gaze dropped to his hands. Almost in slow motion, he removed the leather gloves finger by finger. When his hands were free, he looked her way. “I take it that your business is completed?”
“It is, and I was successful.” She took another step closer. The air hung heavy. That had to be the reason they weren’t rushing into each other’s arms. She would not allow herself to think anything otherwise. “May I tell you about it?”
“If you’d like.” His brown eyes flashed with an emotion she couldn’t identify.
Close by, several wrought iron benches looked over a small stream that bordered one side of the orchard. The sound of the flowing water offered comfort. “Would you sit with me? You were my first stop when I returned to London.”
A Duke in Time--The Widow Rules Page 31