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Benedict chuckled then peeked over the edge.
"Take a tumble, did you?"

"Sometimes I wish I could slap you."

"Believe me, love, it would only encourage me
more."

She smiled despite herself and righted her
skirts, so she wasn't again flashing her knees to the duke, and
then stood on wobbly legs.

"Goodnight, your grace," she said in her
haughtiest voice.

"Goodnight, my love."

Rolling her eyes, she walked to the door. He
was most definitely foxed, for everyone knew the Devil Duke did not
love. He was more likely to jump off the highest balcony in London
than admit any sort of emotional attachment.

That really was a pity, considering her heart
did a tiny clench when he uttered those sacred words.

"Goodnight," she said again before stepping
quietly into the hall.

The next morning,
Katherine
was slow to rise. By the time she made it down to
break her fast, nearly all the guests were already seated and
eating.

She took a plate and began to fill it.

As she reached for the toast, a hand slipped
beneath hers and took the plate away. "Allow me."

She looked up and nearly fainted dead away.
The duke of Paisley began filling her plate with every available
dish, all the while glaring at her as if she had suddenly announced
that she was fighting for Napoleon.

"Thank you." she said trying to take the
plate from his hands.

"What the devil did you do?" he seethed.

"Pardon?"

"You heard me." His Scottish brogue was
fighting to break through the words. "Last I left my cousin, he was
debauching the better half of London, and after nearly a week in
your presence he's… he's… well, look at him."

Perplexed, she looked in the direction
Baldwyn pointed. Benedict was sitting at the table, conversing with
everyone around him and laughing. Everything looked as it should.
Perhaps Paisley was the one with the issue. Was he foxed this
early?

She turned back to the Scottish duke. "I have
no idea what you're referring to. He's acting perfectly fine." She
shrugged and continued piling food onto her plate.

"Fine!" Paisley roared, gaining attention
from everyone in the room including Benedict, whose smile very
quickly faded as he pushed away from the table, his chair scraping
the floor. "Drinking, scowling, prowling, devil take it! Stripping
naked in public! Those are the things I come to expect from my
cousin, not this… this lightheartedness! I want him back. Give him
back."

"Give what back?" Benedict interrupted.

"Good morning, your grace. It seems your
cousin would like me to give back your scowl, prowl, drink, and
what else? Oh yes, he would prefer if you were naked."

Paisley blushed. "That is
not
what I
meant."

"Wasn't it?" Katherine winked.

"It's just… Benedict." He turned to his
cousin. "Why the devil are you so happy? It's as if she's won." At
Benedict's sheepish look Paisley cursed fluently. "Don't tell me.
Do not tell me. You, you, you…"

"Use your words." Benedict slapped him on the
back.

"Y-you are happily marching to the marriage
drum! And with her!" He pointed at Katherine. Honestly, was she so
bad?

"Yes." Benedict turned to her and grabbed her
hand placing a kiss across the knuckles. "
Her
."

Well, that was nice. With a smug grin, she
glanced back to Paisley and lifted an eyebrow.

"I cannot believe this." Paisley shook his
head. "I…I…"

"Your grace?" Katherine tilted her head. "You
wouldn't be afraid of the same fate, now would you?"

"Ha, ha!" He laughed and slapped his leg.
"Now that is absolutely ridic—"

He froze, the words died on his lips. His
eyes glazed over, Katherine fought the urge to wave in front of his
face. Instead, she looked in the direction that Baldwyn was focused
on. Lady Anastasia entered the room, looking much like a fairy
princess. That was when Katherine knew. The poor man had already
fallen. He just didn't know what to do about it.

"Go." Katherine pushed him. "Tell her she
looks pretty."

"What?" he scoffed.

"Try kissing her hand," Benedict offered.
"And do attempt to keep the drool from dribbling out of your
mouth."

With that, they both pushed him in her
direction and sighed in unison.

After a few minutes, Katherine felt
Benedict's hand on her back, and then his lips near her ear. "Ice
skating?"

"Yes."

A loud commotion at the door interrupted
their moment.

Suddenly servants were rushing out of the
dining room.

And then running.

Several stopped and began to mumble
prayers.

Were they under attack?

Had something happened?

"Hurry!" the butler yelled, then stopped and
pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his perspiring face. "It must
be perfect!"

A footman quickly opened a flask and gulped
its contents. Another began to cry.

What the devil?

And then she heard it.

But she was convinced rather than hearing the
familiar female shrieking, Benedict
felt
her presence.

"Am I too late to join the party?"

The voice was unmistakable. In fact, it
seemed the entire room went tight with tension and mumbled under
their breath in unison, "Agatha."

The Visitation

If lightning struck
the
very ground he stood on, Benedict would only give thanks
to God for the rescue. Of course, he would push Katherine out of
the way and take the brunt of it. Then again, she would be left to
face Agatha without him.

Sometimes it was better to be the selfish
cur.

Struggling between his two lofty dreams,
Benedict decided it was time to face the music, or in this case the
dragon. So he stood his ground, pulling Katherine firmly by his
side.

Agatha hobbled in, rather than walked. It
seemed her health truly had taken a decline. Either that or she was
a splendid actress and belonged on Drury Lane with the rest of
them.

Most likely the latter.

"Ah, Aunt! How splendid to see you!" The lie
fell easily off his lips as did his smile, stunning his aunt so
completely that her jaw dropped and a smile tugged at the corners
of her mouth.

"I knew it!" she shouted. Did she need to
shout her victory in front of an audience?

"Knew what?" Katherine asked.

"That he would one day remember to smile. He
just needed something to smile about. Isn't that right, my
dear?"

Katherine blushed profusely.

"Am I interrupting the morning meal?" Agatha
peered around Benedict to see everyone sitting stiffly at the
table.

"Not at all, Aunt. Join us?" He held out his
hand as a sort of peace offering.

Grinning, she took it and tucked his arm
close to her frail body. Had she been losing weight? She smelt of
his family, of memories, and he was suddenly feeling like an
absolute cad for his treatment of her, his one remaining female
relative.

"Do tell me you shall go ice skating on the
pond." Her eyes glistened.

"Yes," he answered unable to pull his gaze
away from her face. When had she begun to age? And why was her skin
so pale?

Katherine joined them and kissed Agatha on
the cheek. He never thought he'd see the day that his aunt would
blush. "Actually, would you care to join us? We were just going to
grab our skates."

Agatha smiled and patted Katherine's hand. "I
would love to, dear."

Dear? Benedict fought to keep the shock from
his face.

"It is such a beautiful house, and a perfect
day for the outdoors!" Agatha announced. At that precise moment,
the butler collapsed, and a footman exhaled, thanks to God, while
servants slumped against the walls. As if the woman had just
declared that Parliament was in session and everything was as it
should be.

She gave a jolly laugh and walked out with
Katherine. Benedict followed, his heart warming at the sight of
Agatha and the woman he cared for chatting about ice skating.

Dukes on Thin Ice

Katherine held Agatha's
hand
and placed it on her arm until they reached the frozen
pond. After setting the dowager on a bench and wrapping her frail
body in blankets, Katherine was shooed away to join the
festivities.

Benedict wasn't far behind. Paisley and Lady
Anastasia soon followed. Several couples were already skating on
the pond, and Katherine didn't want to wait to join in the fun.

Quickly, she attached her skates, and began
to wobble along. Everything was going perfectly well until the ice
seemed to jump up and catch her skate, causing her to stumble. Soon
her arms were waving frantically, and she could already feel the
pain slicing her bottom if she were to fall.

Strong arms surrounded her, and then warm
breath grazed her ear. "May I be of assistance, my lady?"

Katherine regained her balance and looked at
her rescuer.

The joke was obviously on her, for God hadn't
sent her a guardian angel. No, something quite the opposite.

If anything, Benedict's devilishly handsome
looks seemed to only intensify with the white snow in the
background. Curse the man.

"My thanks." She smiled.

He held out his arm. With a laugh, she hooked
her arm within his and skated alongside him. They pulled up right
next to Paisley and Lady Anastasia.

"Paisley, you skate like a woman," Benedict
called out in good humor then nudged Katherine. "Looks like one,
too, with the way his skates are tied on. Poor soul would be better
off sitting on the bench, I fear."

Katherine stifled a giggle while Paisley
accepted Benedict's challenge to race.

Apparently, he felt he was defending not only
his own honor but that of his
fiancée's,
for he asked to
carry her colors. As if he were a knight about to joust in the
tournament.

Benedict rolled his eyes and released his
hold on Katherine. Her arm suddenly felt cold. Why hadn't Benedict
made a similar offer? Sighing, she took a seat on the bench next to
Lady Anastasia and tried not to slump or do anything to outwardly
show her displeasure, though she was slightly disappointed. And
then Paisley turned his beautiful eyes toward her. "Lady Katherine,
might I wear yours as well?"

His mouth widened into a breathtaking smile.
By Jove, she had forgotten how handsome he was! Yet, her reaction
wasn't the familiar fluttering that she was so used to with
Benedict. If anything it was amusement, not attraction. Odd? With a
relaxed giggle, she offered a handkerchief as well, smugly
satisfied as Benedict's face seemed to contort with jealousy.
Served him right for ignoring her. Well, what could she expect when
a man such as he was faced with competition?

The race was fast.

Paisley was faster.

But unfortunately, Benedict was slow, though
it could have been in part to the fact that Baldwyn tried to trip
him around the first circle nearly sending the Devil face first
onto the icy surface.

Never had she heard so many curses and oaths
during a children's game.

By the time both men returned, they were
breathing heavily and slapping one another on the back.

"A pleasure as always, your graceless."
Paisley smirked.

Benedict's eyes glowered, his usual mask of
anger, until a small smile began to tug at his lips. Katherine knew
that smile. It held secrets and manipulations. Oddly enough, it
looked exactly like the smile the old dowager had when she was
planning on doing something malicious. Not that she would ever tell
Benedict that, for fear that he would stop smiling altogether.

"Speaking of graceless, did any of you happen
to hear that commotion out in the corridor last evening?"

To say the conversation took a definite
change into uncomfortable territory would be an understatement.
Paisley laughed off the noise as if a vase had fallen, and Lady
Anastasia looking so mortified she might have been ready to go up
in flames despite the low temperatures.

A change in subject was needed.

But before Katherine could open her mouth,
Lady Anastasia requested some mulled cider, successfully pulling
Baldwyn away from the group, but not without giving Katherine a
chilly stare.

"Care to skate, Kate?" Benedict held out his
hand.

Katherine rolled her eyes. "Promise to
behave?"

"I'm not sure I understand the definition of
the word."

"Promise?"

"No, behave." He smirked and tugged her body
so close to his she began to perspire.

"I imagine there are many words you lack the
experience of hearing. Take for example—"

"Tsk, tsk, Katherine, don't go spoiling our
little outing, not after I've been watching the wind pick up your
skirts enough to glance at your ankles. Think of the terrible mood
you'll put me in when you begin to repeat all the words I so
despise hearing."