Lord Neville rose as well. "Nonsense, Kate. You couldn't go on your own."
"I made it here on my own," she reminded him.
"By mail stage," he pointed out.
Katherine shuddered, for she had detested every moment of that smelly, bumpy ride. "I will not let him steal what belongs to me."
"My dear, I will not see you so distressed," Lady Alison said, reaching up to take her hand. Kate didn't see the scathing look she shot at her husband.
"Kate, I will send someone to look into matters at Crestley," Lord Neville said quickly. "There is no need for you to go. Will that suffice?"
"I already―" Kate swallowed. They would both be hurt if she admitted to going behind their backs. It seemed she had plunked herself into a hole. But perhaps Lord Neville would get a quicker response than she had been able to muster. "All right," she agreed, nodding.
Shortly after that Louisa and Thomas arrived to escort her to Hyde Park. Again the viscount was more than generous in his praise of her, but his kind words affected her far less than did the erratic compliments of the Black Duke. It shouldn't have been so, for half the time she wasn't certain if Sommesby even meant what he said, and the other half of the time what he said provoked her beyond bearing. If only he would stop being so unpredictable, there was no doubt she would tire of thinking about him, and dreaming about him, almost immediately.
When they arrived at the park the Black Duke himself was present, seated on a great black charger and conversing amiably with the captain. She found her eyes focusing on his lips, and her thoughts on the intoxicating kiss he had given her the day before. Unsettled, she came near to claiming a headache and returning to the Hamptons' before he saw her. She didn't, however, telling herself that if she did leave he would likely drive poor Althaea, already cowering on the far side of her brother, to another fit of the vapors.
At that moment he turned and smiled. He kneed his stallion forward, stopping beside her to lean over and pat her mare's neck. "Hello, Winter," he said amiably, and the gray's ears flicked at him. When Kate looked back at his face, his eyes were on her. "Katherine," he said, inclining his head.
So he would greet her horse first, would he? "Nicholas," she returned coolly. "You seem to be familiar with my mount, sir."
"I am," he replied mildly. "I sold her to Neville several weeks ago."
That would have been about the time she arrived in London. Her godfather had never said he had purchased Winter specifically for her, only that he thought he had a mare in his stable that would suit her. And he had never mentioned that the gray had come from the Duke of Sommesby.
They set off along the main drag, their progress slower than usual because of the unprecedented appearance of the Black Duke at such a heavily trafficked hour. It seemed that every carriage or chaise, especially those containing women, had to stop and hail him with a word or a greeting. Katherine would have thought he was deliberately baiting her again, except that she caught the bored expression on his face, quickly masked, during a lull. She wondered what it must be like for him to be so badly toadeaten wherever he went in public, and never to know if people's comments and compliments were sincere or merely meant to gain some political or social advantage.
"Do you know everyone in London, Nick?" Thomas finally protested.
"Apparently so," the Black Duke drawled.
"I don't believe it," Louisa muttered from beside Reg. "What?" the captain asked, turning to follow her gaze. Katherine looked as well, and her palms grew sweaty inside her gloves. Approaching from across the park on a bay gelding came Francis DuPres. Wishing now that she hadn't spoken so boldly about her ability to take care of herself, she glanced. over at Nicholas. To her surprise, he returned her look with a reassuring one of his own. His black sidled closer, seemingly of its own accord.
"Steady," he murmured.
They waited as DuPres closed the distance to them. The close-set brown eyes shifted between her and the duke, as though DuPres couldn't decide which of them warranted his attention. He frightened and revolted Katherine, but she was reassured by the thought that he wouldn't dare try anything in the presence of three high-ranking members of the ton.
Finally he settled his attention on Nicholas. "Sommesby, we have something to discuss."
"I have nothing to discuss with you," Nicholas returned icily.
"AH, but this is not personal," DuPres went on, though the look in his eyes became ugly. ''This is business."
''Then make an appointment with my man," the duke responded.
"I've tried. He's never in. And we both know why. It seems that we're both interested in the same property up―"
"I said, make an appointment," Nicholas hissed. As he finished speaking, his black reared. DuPres was forced to haul his bay sideways. The animal whinnied and began crow-hopping. With his high shirt points and harlequin colors, the man looked like a mad elf. "Let's go," the duke said with a growl, and yanked the stallion around.
''That was a bit severe, wasn't it?" Reg asked carefully when they had gone some distance. Behind them DuPres had gotten his horse under control and sat staring after them. After a while he rode off in the opposite direction.
"I didn't come here to discuss business," the duke responded. "And not with the likes of him."
Although Katherine held no liking for Francis DuPres, the duke's attitude of superiority surprised and irked her. "I hadn't realized you were such a high stickler," she said smoothly.
His sharp look set her back. "You would defend him?" he said sharply.
"I am merely pointing out that you seem to be attacking him because his blood isn't as blue as yours."
"You―I―" The Black Duke shut his mouth and glared at her. "I don't give a flying leap about his social status," he said very evenly. "I was attacking him because of his damned ill behavior as a gentleman."
She flushed, her temper flaring. "I believe," she retorted, "that he has behaved no differently than a certain other gentleman with whom we are acquainted."
His eyes narrowed. "You go too far," he said.
"No, sir, you did," Kate replied. Althaea gasped, and Kate gathered her reins to flee as the Black Duke started toward her.
He opened his mouth in a snarl, but before he could say anything Thomas rode between them. ''What say we go and get some ices from the confectioner's?" he said loudly. "I think we could all stand to cool down a bit."
This last he directed at Nicholas, and for a moment Katherine thought the Black Duke was going to strike the viscount. Then he slowly nodded, and behind her Reg breathed a sigh of relief.
Conversation was muted as they made their way over to the confectioner's. When Thomas and Nicholas dismounted to get the ices, Louisa leaned over to Kate. "I thought he was going to eat you alive," she whispered. "Now I know why he is called the Black Duke."
Wishing that for once she had possessed enough sense to keep her mouth shut, Katherine shook her head. "I provoked him," she whispered back.
"Yes, you did," a soft voice came from beside her, and she looked down to see Nicholas standing at her knee. "Again." He held a lemon-flavored ice up in one hand and strawberry in the other. When she indicated the lemon he handed it to her. "And again you put me in my place," he murmured.
"Someone has to," she noted, smiling a little nervously. He put a hand on her reins and leaned closer. ''Then I'm pleased you aren't carrying a vase with you." At that he grinned, the smile lighting his eyes and making her wish to lean down and kiss him, right in the middle of Hyde Park. Drat the man, she didn't know how to behave when he was about.
"Do you go to the Linton soiree tomorrow night?" he asked.
She pulled her thoughts together enough to nod. "I do."
"Will you save a waltz for me?"
So much for his threat never to dance with her again, but she wasn't about to remind him of it. "Yes, I will."
"Are you going to stand there all day, Nick?" Thomas's voice came from behind them, and the duke started.
&
nbsp; "I suppose not," he drawled, and with another smile and a faint shrug to her, he returned to his stallion and swung back up into the saddle.
They ate their flavored ices in the shade of a stand of oaks. After another few minutes of listening to Thomas trying to make some kind of bet regarding a rematch between his bay and Nicholas's black, Ulysses, they were all laughing again. Then, too quickly, Sommesby had to take his leave, claiming a business appointment he had been unable to break.
"Miss Dremond, Miss Hillary," he intoned, much to Althaea's trepidation. "Katherine." He touched his heels to the black's ribs and was gone.
They lingered for another half hour before Reg stretched and climbed to his feet. "We should be getting back, as well," he commented, and Althaea rose from her seat in the soft grass.
As Katherine rode beside Thomas and Louisa on the way back to the Hamptons', the viscount kept glancing over at her. He said nothing, though, until he dismounted to walk her to the door. "Kate . . . was Nick forward with you?"
Katherine blushed. "Whatever do you mean?"
"Well, it's just that Nick usually gets his way, and he's used to ... dealing with ladies of a different sort than you," he said slowly, carefully choosing his words. "If you don't wish his attentions, I will be happy to speak to him for you."
She touched his sleeve and smiled. "Thank you, Thomas, but I can deal with Nicholas Varon myself."
"Yes, you likely can," he muttered.
10
After changing her mind so many times she had begun to think herself addlebrained, Katherine decided to wear her blue gown to the Lintons'. She fidgeted at the dressing table until Emmie set down the hairbrush and suggested she take a stroll and return when she was ready to sit still.
"I'm sorry, Emmie," she apologized, turning to face forward again.
"You're in high spirits tonight, Miss Kate, ain't you?" Emmie queried, lifting the brush again.
Katherine picked up the silver hair ribbon and began to wind it around her fingers, then quickly put it down again when Emmie sighed. "I suppose I am a bit . . . jittery this evening," she admitted.
"One of those fine gentlemen finally caught your eye, did he?" The maid dimpled, then grimaced as one of the silver clips fell out of Kate's hair to the floor.
"Heavens, no," Katherine protested weakly. As she realized she was picking at the ribbon again, she folded her hands in her lap. Despite Kate's lack of cooperation, Emmie completed her ministrations and over Kate's protests declared that her mistress was going to be the envy of all London that evening.
At the Linton mansion .the throng of male admirers that beset Kate upon her arrival seemed to agree with Emmie. The Hamptons relinquished her to the crowd, and almost before she could take a breath her card was filled. Except for the last dance. She kept that waltz free, as she had given her word. She looked about for Sommesby, but he was not in sight. Nicholas was not the type to clamor for attention with the other young bucks, though, so she was not unduly concerned.
As the evening progressed and he still had made no appearance, however, her temper began to flare. He wouldn't be so petty as to stand her up in revenge for her walking out early the night they had met, or so she told herself. Once the thought entered her mind, however, it refused to depart. She had behaved like a hoyden out in the park, and he could be so devious that she would put nothing past him, the scoundrel. "Oh, fribble," she muttered.
"Beg pardon?"
She looked up to see the Viscount of Sheresford standing before her, and smiled. "Oh, hello, Thomas."
He stood for another moment, then sat down beside her. "Do you wish to sit out this dance?" he asked, and she remembered that he had claimed her for the quadrille.
She shook her head. "No. I'm sorry. I've just been distracted tonight."
"The belle of the ball is allowed to be as distracted as she pleases, for she is very distracting to most everyone else." Thomas grinned and pulled her to her feet.
"I am not the belle of the ball," she stated as they took their places.
"Look around, if you don't believe me," he suggested as the music began.
She did so, and found that she was receiving a great deal more attention than she had realized. "I did not try to be so," she protested as they stepped forward. "It's not even my debut. I've had my Season."
Thomas laughed. "You are too generous," he said. "Enjoy it. Before long you will be off the market, and some other young miss will take your place."
As the dance separated them, she considered his words. His attentions had become more serious of late, and it occurred to her that he might offer for her. She was quite fond of him, but she had heard complaints about her Irish temper often enough that she well knew it was entirely likely he would become exasperated with her stubborn ways and not offer for her at all.
After the quadrille ended he led her over to Lord Neville, her partner for the next-to-last dance of the evening, a country dance. "I shall try not to step on your toes, dear," her godfather said with a grin as she returned to the floor.
"You are a fine dancer," she returned stoutly, again glancing about the room for Nicholas. Abruptly she spied him lounging in the doorway, watching her. He nodded at her, and she sighed, relieved that he had come, after all. As she and Lord Neville left the floor he started toward them. He was dressed in a blue even darker than her own, his cravat as white as snow. He looked magnificent, and seemed to draw the eye of everyone in the room as he approached.
"Neville," he said, inclining his head to the baron before bending to take Kate's hand and kiss her knuckle. "Katherine," he murmured, then straightened. "Have I missed our dance?"
"Very nearly," she returned, and the waltz began.
The duke swept her out onto the floor. This time as they swirled about to the music his expression did not become bored, and, rather than wander about the room, his gaze remained on her as she looked up at him. "I'm sorry I was so late," he apologized.
"It was quite dramatic of you," she returned.
"I truly intended to arrive less dramatically an hour ago," he responded. "I had another meeting I couldn't break." He looked down at her skeptical expression. "Don't look daggers at me, Kate. If you must know, I and several others were asked to meet with Cousin Prinny and the prime minister. The Marquis of Belning was there as well, so you can ask Reg if you don't believe me."
"Cousin Prinny?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow,
"Yes, of sorts. Didn't you know?" At her head shake he leaned closer. "I am lucky thirteenth in line to the throne," he murmured.
"You're bamming me," she replied, eyeing him uncertainly.
"I am not," he protested. "Father and old King George were second cousins, or some such thing."
She did finally believe him, though she had had no idea that the Duke of Sommesby's very blue blood was that blue. "Well, m'lord, you've missed a lovely evening," she said, conveniently forgetting the fact that she had been irked at him for not appearing.
"I don't know about that," he returned. "Thomas looked none too happy when I arrived."
"He says I'm the belle of the ball," she responded, more to bait the duke than because she believed it.
Nicholas nodded. "Oh."
"Well," she prompted, annoyed, "aren't you going to say anything nice?"
"Last time I tried to give you a compliment you gave me a set-down," he drawled. "I'm not certain I want to risk it again."
"Gammon," she retorted. "You don't want to give me a compliment because you are the most irritating, selfish, provoking man alive."
He laughed. Katherine noted again that they seemed to be the center of attention, and she frowned. "Oh, stop it," she muttered.
That only made him laugh harder. "And you still want a compliment after that?" He chuckled, his eyes full of dancing green highlights. "Well, then, m'dear, 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more-―"
"Don't you dare say it, Nicholas Varon," she warned, biting her lip to keep the determin
ed frown from sliding from her face.
He pursed his lips as though deep in thought, and then nodded. "I think you're right. 'Temperate' does not suit you. 'Tempestuous,' perhaps." He gazed down at her. "Or impossibly lovely, with eyes a man could drown in."
The compliment, when it finally came, was so unexpected and so softly said that for an instant she couldn't speak. "Well, perhaps I was "a bit harsh a moment ago," she muttered, and he chuckled again.
At the end of the waltz he returned her to the Hamptons and greeted both of them. The duke rubbed his hands together and glanced about. "Katherine, would you like to accompany me on a drive to the country tomorrow?" He turned to the baroness. "With your approval, of course, Alison."
"And who would be escorting you?" her godmother asked, eyeing him. "I won't have any scandal attached to Kate."
Nicholas shook his head. "Neither would I. I know my reputation." His expression changed a little, making Kate wonder if perhaps the infamous Black Duke wasn't as uncaring about his reputation as he appeared. "I'll take Jack along. I've known him all my life, and I haven't yet ruined anyone in his presence. Will that suffice?"
Her godmother nodded. "Your groom will be fine. If Kate wants to go."
Feeling a bit left out of the conversation, Katherine looked back up at Nicholas. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes, I would love to."
She was coming down the stairs as Rawlins opened the front door to admit the Duke of Sommesby. Kate resisted the urge to brush at her peach walking dress, but couldn't help her smile as he approached the foot of the stairs and waited there for her.
He took both of her hands in his and raised them to his lips. "Good morning, Katherine. Am I permitted to say that you look lovely?"
He was baiting her, and so she nodded regally. "Yes," she answered.
"You look lovely, Katherine," he repeated dutifully, continuing to hold her hands in his long-fingered ones.
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