‘Nick, it is lovely, so very lovely. Look at the view!’ Kat half-ran to the window, heedless of the swirl of green skirts that followed her. He stayed where he was, looking at her.
‘I am.’
‘But you can see better here.’ Then she turned and saw his eyes on her and blushed deliciously. But she had become self-conscious now, and watchful. ‘It is all quite lovely, but of course I cannot stay here, Nicholas.’
So, he was ‘Nicholas’ all of a sudden. ‘Why not?’ Nick made himself lean against a bedpost rather than yield to the temptation to cross the room and show Kat precisely why she should stay.
‘Because of the annulment,’ she said, wearily. ‘How will it look if I live with you here, in such an intimate household?’
Nick refrained from pointing out that a few days ago she would never have dreamed of referring to a Queen Anne Dower House boasting fourteen main bedrooms as intimate. ‘How is your virtue any more at risk here than it is up at the house? All the servants will know by now that you slept in my bed last night; you cannot keep that sort of thing secret. And you were going to rely upon medical evidence if necessary, I recall.’
‘Yes.’ She winced. He could imagine just what an ordeal it was even thinking about that.
‘Let me show you round some more,’ he coaxed. ‘We will have a full household of servants, there will be room for John and Jenny …’ She was through the door into the dressing room, then through another door and into the master bedroom without baulking. Nick eyed the green brocade of the bedcovering, imagining white limbs against it, before he put a hard hold on his imagination and ushered her out on to the landing. The tension that vibrated from her was tangible, he felt it on his skin like the approach of a summer thunderstorm.
‘It would be kind if you would help me with the refurnishing,’ he said as they descended the stairs. Kat was visibly more relaxed away from the bedrooms and talk of furnishings seemed to help.
‘Of course,’ she agreed. ‘Oh, Nick, all these rooms are so lovely! They only need the lightest touch, but perhaps they are a little over-furnished and some of the hangings are rather heavy.’
Watching her moving gracefully around the salon, her fingers trailing over the backs of sofas, adjusting the position of an ornament, twitching a curtain, he began to relax. He had caught her with the charm of the house. Love my house, love me. He froze, eyes focused painfully on the green-clad figure. Love me. Is that what he wanted? Her love? Was that what he felt for her? Not just liking, not just desire—certainly not gratitude.
It had crept up on him so gradually he had not noticed, had not recognised it from that long-ago attack of calf love that had led to his exile. And he had managed to fall in love with one of the few women in the kingdom who could recoil at the thought of marrying the heir to a dukedom, a woman who fought tooth and nail for the right to bear her own burdens, however heavy and unfair and however easy it would be to surrender them.
Kat had stopped exploring and came back to stand in front of him, a frown between her brows. ‘But twenty-four days is not long if I am to order fabrics for you.’
‘Twenty-four days?’ He blinked at her. ‘Ah, until you leave.’ Over my dead body. ‘There is probably no need to order anything, just take what you want from the House. If you talk to Mrs Arbuthnot, the housekeeper, she will show you hoards of treasures, I am sure. I will ask Father which staff we can borrow for the meantime. I see no reason why we could not move in tomorrow.’ He watched the play of emotions on Kat’s face and decided to keep things light. ‘I am certain Mrs Arbuthnot will be over here with a positive army of maids to set about airing the bedchambers if that is what is worrying you.’
‘No, that is not what is worrying me,’ she retorted with that sudden flash of kitten claws that always enchanted him. ‘Although naturally the thought that you may succumb to rheumatics is a concern. Nick, I have never been in charge of more than six servants in my life—how am I going to manage however many this house will require?’
‘Appoint Jenny housekeeper.’ It was the first thing that came into his mind and it worked magic.
‘Oh, yes, Nick, how clever of you. Between us we can manage, I am sure of it.’ Suddenly she was relaxed and happy again, threading her hand through the crook of his elbow and urging him towards the front door. ‘We must go back now, I have so much to think about.’
Nick let himself be hustled out, suppressing the grin that was threatening to break out. It was a secret, dangerous delight being managed by his wife. The trick was to ensure this lasted a lifetime and not a mere twenty-four days.
‘Jenny!’ Katherine whirled into her bedchamber, causing her maid to jump and to drop a pile of freshly laundered chemises.
‘Look what you’ve made me do now, Miss Katherine,’ she grumbled, stooping to pick them up again. ‘I’d just folded them all as well … What is it? You look so happy.’
‘I have seen the Dower House and we will be moving in there tomorrow. Oh, Jenny, it is delightful. And I would like you to be housekeeper. Will you do that? On an appropriate salary, of course.’
Jenny made a little flapping movement with her hand, dismissing the money. ‘For how long, Miss Katherine?’
‘Oh,’ she said flatly. ‘Oh, just the remainder of the time I will be here—twenty-four days.’
Jenny was refolding underwear with an exasperated snap and slap. ‘But that’s how long the master said you must wait before he would agree; it will take goodness knows how long after that. Where will you go then?’
‘I do not know,’ Katherine said wearily, all the fizzing excitement of her ride and the Dower House ebbing away. ‘I must think of something. And, Jenny, I do not know how I will be able to keep you and John on either. I am so sorry. I will quite understand if you want to start looking for a new position right away.’
Curiously Jenny flushed a rosy pink. ‘Don’t you worry about that, Miss Katherine, we’ll be all right. Now, let’s get you out of that habit. Did you have a nice ride?’
Katherine was still subdued and preoccupied when she came down to dinner. Earlier she had waylaid Heron and enquired which newspapers the household received. “The Times, the London Recorder and the Leeds Intelligencer, my lady. Plus, of course the various journals to which his Grace and Lord Robert subscribe. Would you wish me to place an order for some ladies’ journals, my lady? La Belle Assemblée, perhaps?’
‘No.’ Katherine hesitated, then recalled what Nick had said about the extent of the servants’ knowledge of what was going on. ‘Heron, I would like to take you into my confidence.’
The butler bowed slightly. ‘I would be honoured, my lady. Might I suggest we step into the Blue Salon?’
Once in private, Katherine clasped her hands together and sought for words, feeling far more like an errant chambermaid than the lady of the house. ‘Heron, you are aware that his lordship and I are seeking an annulment?’
He inclined his head, but did not comment.
‘When I leave here I must seek employment as I have no resources.’
Now he did look shocked. ‘But, my lady, his lordship will naturally provide for you.’
‘I know that, but I do not wish him to, Heron. Now you understand why I need to see the newspapers; I wish to scan the employment vacancies.’
‘I will secure the daily papers as soon as his Grace has finished with them, my lady. I will also place an order for the local newspapers that we use when advertising for staff. Those, that is, which advertise positions of a genteel nature.’
‘Thank