An Unsuitable Duchess (18 page)

He laughed at her innocent comment and cracked open one eye. ‘I thought you’d lived in Paris.’

Her brows drew together in confusion, and then her expression cleared in some form of understanding. ‘Is that why you stopped?’

‘I stopped because had I not, I would have had to find some explanation for the state of my trousers for the remainder of the evening.’

He wasn’t certain she understood. She opened her mouth to say something but suddenly the door opened—and Miss Forrester walked into the room.

His heart stopped in panic and he felt as if he had run a very long race.

It appeared she hadn’t spotted him as she addressed Katrina. ‘I cannot believe you are hiding...’

Her eyes darted to Julian and her lips parted. It was remarkable how quickly she composed herself and focused all her attention on Katrina, completely ignoring him.

‘Considering how easy it was for me to gain entrance to this room, it might be wise for me to remain to lend you an air of respectability, should anyone else see fit to come in here,’ she offered.

Katrina did not appear to be alarmed by Miss Forrester’s presence. Hopefully this meant Miss Forrester could be trusted not to reveal their encounter. As much as he liked Katrina, he still had no desire to be forced into marriage. His heartbeat began to slow down.

Katrina’s attention remained on Miss Forrester. ‘Why were you searching this hallway?’

‘Because my mother was concerned that you were taking an inordinately long time in the retiring room and I offered to fetch you. Lucky for both of you I did. I remembered how interested you were in those paintings the Duchess of Winterbourne mentioned, and thought you might be hiding from the remainder of your dancing partners.’

Katrina rubbed her forehead. ‘How many dances have I missed?’

‘Just one.’

Miss Forrester’s presence had alleviated the pull on Julian’s trousers and it was now safe for him to return to the ball. He would leave it to Katrina to find an explanation for her friend. But before he was able to excuse himself, the door opened again. This time Hart stepped inside.

If this kept up she was sure to be ruined!

Even in the moonlit room there was no mistaking the amused glint Julian saw in his friend’s eye as he glanced from Miss Forrester to Miss Vandenberg and finally to Julian. Hart casually leaned his back against the door and crossed his arms. His smirk was not appreciated.

‘I say...this
is
interesting.’

Miss Forrester stepped forward, as if to block Hart’s view of Katrina. ‘Miss Vandenberg and I entered the room just a few minutes ago. We were unaware that His Grace was already in here.’

Hart bit his lip and nodded sagely. ‘I see—and what exactly drew you two ladies to this remote location?’

‘Taxidermy.’

‘Pardon?’

Miss Forrester raised her chin and crossed her arms. Apparently she was standing her ground. ‘I said taxidermy.’

Hart rubbed the smile off his lips. ‘I see. And what specimens drew you to this room, exactly?’

She waved her hand carelessly behind her. ‘Birds.’

‘So you have an interest in ornithology?’

‘Ye-e-e-s,’ she replied, drawing out the word.

‘And what particular species were you interested in seeing?’

‘Well, whatever species His Lordship has, of course.’

‘Of course.’ Hart tossed back the lock of hair that fell near his eyes.

He was having too much fun at Julian’s expense. Hopefully he could convince Hart not to tell their friends about this.

Miss Forrester took a step forward, crossed her arms, and tipped her head to the side. ‘And you, my lord. What brings
you
to this far corner of the ball? There is nothing of interest here.’

‘On the contrary—I have an interest in birds as well,’ he said through a smirk.

She looked as if she was about to reply.

Hart held up his hand. ‘I assume you are finished with your studies in this darkened room, so we will say it’s been a pleasure and allow you ladies to return to this evening’s entertainments.’

Miss Forrester grabbed Katrina by the hand and pulled her towards the door. ‘That’s very kind of you. Good evening, gentlemen.’

Katrina glanced back at Julian one last time with a regretful look before she was dragged out through the door. He didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to her, or to kiss her one last time for the night.

Hart closed the door and locked it. Why hadn’t Julian thought to lock the door earlier? Perhaps it was because he’d never needed to do so before. This was the first and only time he had ever stole away with a woman at a ball.

‘You and I need to have a talk,’ Hart said. ‘And I know just the place to have it.’

They walked two doors down to the Whitfields’ billiard room, and Hart racked up the balls without saying a word. Julian grabbed two cues from the rack on the wall, grateful for the short reprieve. Once the balls were set, they flipped Hart’s lucky coin to see who would go first. Julian won.

He leaned over the Whitfields’ billiard table and released his cue. He watched the balls scatter.

Shaking his head, he turned to Hart. ‘How in the world did you find us?’

‘As luck would have it I was supposed to be meeting someone there shortly. It appears you and I need to begin coordinating our appointments.’

Julian narrowed his gaze. ‘That won’t be necessary. What you witnessed was a mere coincidence.’

Hart walked around the billiard table, analysing the best angle for his shot. He looked as if he was trying to hold back a smirk. ‘I see. We can move forward with that story if you like. But I will say it is fortunate it appears you have gained another ally in Miss Forrester.’

Julian rested his hand on top of his cue and watched Hart line up his shot. ‘Why do you believe it is a good thing to have Miss Forrester as an ally?’

Aside from the fact that she wouldn’t gossip about what she’d found when she had walked into the room.

‘To gain the support of your lady’s friend is always a good thing. Just think of all the ways we could use her.’

Julian sent him a stern look.

‘I mean you. All the ways
you
could use her.’

‘I will not be using anyone. Nor will you. And Miss Vandenberg is not my lady. It was an accidental encounter, nothing more.’

‘If you say so,’ Hart said, taking his shot.

Hart never agreed so easily. This was not a good sign.

Chapter Sixteen

T
he late morning sun warmed Katrina’s garden as she sat on a wooden bench with her box of watercolours. Peering closely at a teacup filled with violets, she concentrated on trying to recreate this small reminder of home. As she swirled her sable-haired brush through the purple and blue paint Julian’s comment about the colour of her eyes when they’d sat together with his grandmother drifted into her thoughts. It made her smile.

Glancing down, she realised she’d muddled the colours together into an unusable mess. There had to be a way to shove him out of her mind. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath of the floral-scented air, and listened to the birds chirp around her. If she tried hard enough she could imagine she was sitting in her garden back home in Tarrytown, overlooking the sparkling Hudson River.

It was peaceful there.

It was quiet.

‘Have you managed to fall asleep like that?’

Katrina opened one eye and met Sarah’s quizzical gaze. And just like that her peaceful bubble burst.

‘What were you doing?’ Sarah asked, taking a seat on the bench across from her.

Katrina cleaned her paintbrush in a glass of water. ‘I was resting my eyes.’

‘It is lovely here in the shade,’ Sarah said as she untied the cinnamon silk ribbon of her straw bonnet and casually tossed it beside her. ‘And what a charming bunch of violets. I have little skill with a paintbrush, much to my mother’s displeasure.’

‘Skill or patience?’

‘Both, I suppose. How long will that take you to complete?’

Katrina shrugged and continued to add petals to the paper. ‘I find the process soothing.’

Or at least it had been until Sarah began rhythmically tapping her foot on the gravel.

‘Is there something you wanted, Sarah?’

‘I was hoping you would accompany me to Bond Street.’

‘We were shopping only yesterday.’

‘I’ve reconsidered those slippers. You remember? The ones with the fine needlework?’

‘I have no wish to move along with the crowds today. Could it possibly wait for another day?’

‘I suppose it could, but— What is that?’

Katrina looked up to find Wilkins, walking towards them on the garden path, carrying a large vase of purple and yellow flowers. As he drew closer, she realised they weren’t exactly flowers.

‘Pardon me, miss. These came for you, and I was wondering what you would like me to do with this unusual arrangement?’

‘Aren’t those weeds?’ Sarah asked, as she narrowed her eyes at the objects in question.

‘I believe so, Miss Forrester,’ he replied. ‘Thistle and ragwort, if I am not mistaken. Would you prefer I place the stems in the garden for you, miss?’

Although they were indeed weeds, the arrangement had been created with obvious care. Katrina thought the contrast of purple and yellow to be rather striking. But why would someone send them to her?

‘Did they arrive with a note, Wilkins?’

He handed her a folded piece of paper sealed with a blob of red wax.

True beauty resides in the most unexpected places.

When she read the message she knew they could only have come from one man—the only man who had ever told her she was ‘most unexpected’. She folded the paper and brought it to her lips to cover her smile. He was clever. She would give him that. And, as much as she tried, it was difficult to remain unaffected by Julian.

When she directed Wilkins to place them in her bedroom he stared at her as if she belonged in Bedlam. The moment he was far enough away, Sarah jumped up and sat next to her.

‘Who are they from? Did Mr Armstrong send them?’

‘No, he did not. They’re from an acquaintance.’

Sarah eyed her with open curiosity. ‘If someone sent me weeds I do not believe I would be smiling. Unless—’ Her eyes widened with realisation and she snapped her lips shut. She waited until Wilkins had disappeared through the terrace door before she continued. ‘They are from Lyonsdale.’

Katrina looked away. ‘What would cause you to believe so?’

‘Because you only smile like that when he is near. What did the card say?’

‘It is of little importance.’

‘Why will you not tell me?’ Sarah said, fisting her hands on her lap.

Katrina turned back to her friend. ‘There is nothing to tell.’

‘After finding the two of you together, I wish you would admit you fancy him.’

She could not allow herself to think such thoughts. If she thought too much about how she felt about him heartache would be her only reward. ‘What good would it do? We have no future together.’

‘The Duke’s questionable taste in botanicals paints a different picture. Has he called on you?’

Katrina rubbed the tightness in her chest. She hated lying to Sarah, but she and Julian had promised not to tell anyone about their secret agreement. ‘Of course not. The man is a duke and I am American. I possess no title and have no impressive heritage. And, I have heard rumours that he is carrying on a liaison with Lady Wentworth.’
Now
Sarah would stop pestering her about him.

‘You are prettier.’

Katrina sent her an incredulous look. It was an admirable attempt on her friend’s part, but Katrina knew how beautiful Lady Wentworth was.

‘Well, you are more amiable, and probably much more intelligent.’

That made Katrina laugh, and she was grateful to have found such a good friend.

‘Why do you believe he sent those...weeds?’ Sarah continued.

Katrina shrugged and returned her focus to the violets. His cheeky gesture had made her smile.

‘You cannot convince me you are indifferent to him, and he is obviously quite taken with you. Let me help you with this.’

‘Oh, no,’ Katrina said, pointing her paintbrush at Sarah. ‘Do not do a thing. Do you understand, Sarah?’

‘But I can help you. As you are aware, my presence will add an air of discretion to your encounters, and it will also protect you in the event that you discover his taste in most things is consistent with his taste in botanicals. Please let me help you.’

‘I said no. Do not misinterpret a fond regard for romance.’

‘But he kissed you!’

‘What?’ Katrina glanced around in panic, her heart racing.

‘At the Whitfield ball. You cannot tell me he did not kiss you. When I entered that room you looked like a woman about to swoon.’

She needed to stop the pounding of her heart. ‘I do not swoon. I never swoon. And, more importantly, we did not kiss. There was no kiss.’

‘Well, there should have been! You need to be around him more.’

‘Sarah!’

‘I am simply stating my opinion.’

Chapter Seventeen

T
he Forresters’ barouche rolled through Richmond under a canopy of trees as a soft breeze blew. The coachman guided the team of four to a raised mound where trees and shrubs dotted a grassy lawn that sloped off in all directions. Sarah chose a shady area under an old cascading willow tree as the perfect spot for a picnic.

If Katrina had to spend a day without being near Julian, at least she was in a pretty place.

After setting a large wicker hamper on the white cotton blanket, Sarah’s footman returned to the barouche.

‘This really was a fine idea, and at this early hour I’d be surprised if we encounter anyone else for hours.’ Katrina began unpacking the food from the hamper. ‘I can’t recall the last time I was on a picnic. Whatever made you think of this?’

Sarah gave a careless shrug. ‘It came to me the other day when I was in Hyde Park. I was told this is an ideal place to pass the time. Spending the day away from London is a nice reprieve from all the calls we must make and the dull visitors we must receive.’