Married to the Marquess (31 page)

This was ridiculous. “Well, good night, then,” Kate said softly, placing her hand on the door knob.

Derek stepped forward and pressed a quick, rather emotionless kiss to her lips. “Good night,” he replied.

This was frightening. Never before had any kiss between them been so… formal. Kate suddenly felt as if she had lost something rather dear to her, and she would never get it back. The pain that pierced her was swift and sharp, and it very nearly stole the breath from her lungs.

Then Derek came even closer, looking earnest. “Kate…”

“What?” she whispered, wishing he would just leave so she could cry.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed his mouth, shook his head, then mumbled another, “Good night,” as he turned and headed for his own bedchamber.

This was agony. Kate closed her eyes against the wash of tears and released a soft, shuddering breath. She should never have fallen in love with him.

Trembling, she let herself into her room and changed for bed, ignoring the tears as they rolled down her cheeks.

Tomorrow. She would know all tomorrow.

One way or another.

Groggily, Kate rolled over, placing her face directly into the stream of warm sunshine that had been taunting her for a while. She stretched her arms above her head and groaned at the tension that still resided in them, then tangled her fingers lazily into her hair, finally cracking open her eyes.

Sleep had come very reluctantly last night. She hadn’t cried for long. She couldn’t when she didn’t know how the story would end yet. Once she knew, she could cry. For better or worse.

Lazily, she glanced over at the small clock on her mantle, and gasped, her eyes popping open. It was halfway to lunch already! How had she slept that long? Her entire life, she had always been the first in the house to rise, and often enough, had beaten even the sun. But never, as far back as she could recall, had she slept this late.

She tossed aside all of her bedcovers and ran to the wardrobe. She snatched whichever dark gown her fingers touched first, and scrambled madly at the buttons. There was no time to call for a servant, and she did not need one. Flinging off her nightgown, she clambered her way through the fabric of the dress and somehow managed to get it on properly, and the majority of the buttons done up as well. Some of the higher ones she could not reach, but she would wear a shawl anyway. It was not so warm as to look ridiculous with one, and quite honestly, she was too frantic to care.

Dashing to the wash basin, she splashed some cold water onto her face, hastily patted her cheeks and nose with a towel. Then, using only her fingers, she combed her hair back, taking only a ribbon to pull it away from her face. She looked like a mess, but she was a mess in love and in a frenzy. Looks had little place here.

She seized a dark shawl from her wardrobe and bolted from the room, not even taking time to find slippers. Somehow, she restrained herself from taking more than one stair at a time, though she really would rather have slid down the banister. Once down, she suddenly found herself face to face with Harville, who, miraculously, only quirked a brow at her appearance.

“Where is Lord Whitlock?” she gasped, feeling out of breath, and not at all in the mood to humor even her favorite servant. If Derek had left already, she would turn right back around and shut herself in her room for the next several hours, perhaps days. Surely he would not have left without seeing her. Surely she meant more to him than that.

But suddenly, she was not sure of anything anymore.

Harville grinned rather knowingly. “He is out in the back garden, my lady. He says you can only come out there after you have eaten something.”

“Why?” she asked suspiciously, her heart not yet allowing herself to feel calm or relief.

“Because he said, and I quote, ‘She’s much more receptive to surprises when she has been well fed’.” He restrained his grin just a bit. “He’s been out there all morning, my lady, and I do not think he will be finished for quite some time.”

It took a good twenty seconds for those words to sink in, and then, quite uncharacteristically, she laughed out loud, planted a kiss on Harville’s cheek, and fairly skipped to the breakfast room, determined to eat as quickly as she could.

When she had done so, and rather hastily, she made for the door to the back garden, took a deep breath, and pulled it open.

The sight that met her eyes stunned her so thoroughly that she was incapable of thought.

The garden was scattered with workers, men of all shapes and sizes, all of them dirty and sweaty, laboring under the morning sun. The entire landscape of the garden was uprooted and old things, none of which she had been particularly fond of, lay strewn about on one side of the lawn, while fresh and new plants and flowers and shrubs sat waiting for their transposition into the freshly turned soil. In one corner, near the back hedge, a small group of men were hard at work, building a shelter of sorts, though only the base was constructed this far. In the middle of the partially organized chaos, his shirt just as damp, if not more, than the others, was Derek, who was digging a rather large hole with a man she did not recognize.

She looked down at her feet, still bare, and wished she’d had the foresight to grab those blasted slippers.

One of the men noticed her, inclined his head respectfully, then turned and gave a whistle, which brought Derek’s head up immediately. He grinned as he saw her and handed his shovel off to the nearest man, who then helped him out of the hole and took over shoveling for him. Looking rather exhilarated, Derek jogged over.

“Good morning, Kate. I trust you’ve eaten something?”

“I have,” she assured him, looking up at his face in confusion. “What’s all this?”

He took a breath, looking a touch embarrassed, and glanced down at her feet, then frowned. “Where are your shoes?”

“Derek.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Kate, but you really do need shoes for me to explain everything. Go back inside and get some.”

Kate huffed and turned to the men working beside her. “Does anybody have shoes I might borrow for a moment or two?”

“Are you serious, Kate?” Derek laughed from behind her.

“Aye, milady!” called a girl of perhaps thirteen, who was standing next to a lad of maybe ten in the shade with a bucket of water. She darted over and removed her worn and dirty boots. “They ain’t much to look at, milady, but they do the trick.”

“I shall be grateful to have them,” Kate assured her with a smile. “What is your name?”

“Sarah, milady,” the girl replied with a bob.

“Well, Sarah, is that your brother over there with you?”

She nodded. “That’s Jamie. Pa is working over there and we are tending the water.”

Kate looked where she indicated and smiled at Jamie too. “Well, why don’t you and Jamie go with Molly, that pretty maid in the door, and have her take you down the kitchens for a bit. We’ll call when the men need water.”

“Really?” Sarah cried, looking mystified, excited, and relieved.

“Yes, really. There is no need for everybody to be stuck out in this heat. Besides, I need someone to inspect the pies that Hallstead is making.”

Sarah grinned. “I can do that.”

“I knew you could,” Kate laughed, waving Molly over and relaying the instructions to her.

As the children were led off, Sarah turned back, looking worried. “I ‘ope my shoes fit, milady.”

“I am sure they will, Sarah. I have rather small feet,” she whispered loudly, grimacing.

Sarah smiled again and scampered off after her brother into the house.

Kate put the shoes on, felt rather smug that they fit perfectly, and turned back to her husband, who looked positively thunderstruck. “What?” she asked, still smiling. “You said I needed shoes, now I have shoes.”

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, shaking his head. “You are remarkable, Kate, you know that?”

She blushed and tucked a wry strand of her loosely gathered hair behind her ear. “Derek, what is all this?” she asked, changing the subject. “What are you doing?”

He seemed a little amused by her shift in topic, but went along with it. “I told you that you could never go out to that little park of yours alone again.”

“Yes, so I recall,” she remarked dryly.

“So unless you are willing to go with me all the time, which I highly encourage…”

She smiled, but said nothing.

“…you would be left without a private spot where you can think and ponder and retreat. So I am giving you your own little sanctuary here where I can keep an eye on you. And where you can still be alone, as it were.”

Kate’s mouth dropped open, and she looked around more carefully at the changes that were being made. There were stones being put in for a path, bright flowering shrubs replacing cold and formal ones, and the shelter… She could see, now that they had begun to frame it, what it was going to be.

A gazebo. A smaller, simpler echo of the one they had danced in the other night, and one that would fit perfectly in their small garden.

She turned back to Derek, unable to speak.

“Surprise,” he said in a soft voice, looking quietly delighted with her response.

Not only had Derek stayed, but in rearranging their entire garden, he had undertaken a project that would keep him here for some time. He was working at it himself, though he hated manual labor. He had organized this whole thing as a surprise to her.

If that was not love, she had no idea what was.

Though he was filthy and damp, though she looked a terrible mess, and though there were servants and workers and men she had never met all around them, Kate could not help herself. She reached up and took Derek’s face in her hands and kissed him, in full view of everyone, and without restraint. She felt him stiffen in response, but he quickly recovered and pulled her close, lifting her feet off of the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the love, passion, and energy of her soul, and he responded in kind.

Whistling and cheering and friendly catcalls reached her ears, and she started to giggle, still kissing him. She felt him laugh as well, and then he twirled her, just a bit, and the cheers grew in volume. Unable to hold back the euphoria within her, she broke off the kiss and laughed aloud, her feet still dangling above the ground, Derek’s arms firmly latched around her waist.

“I take it this pleases you?” Derek commented wryly, lowering her back to the ground.

She took his face in hand again and rested her forehead against his. “Thank you, Derek,” she whispered.

Derek didn’t reply, but his throat worked silently. He nodded against her, placing one of his not so clean hands along her cheek, and stroked it softly, and Kate could feel in his touch what he could not find voice to say.

He loved her.

It wouldn’t have mattered if the sky had opened up and it began to rain torrentially upon them, Kate would never be happier in her life than she was at this moment.

Sniffling could be heard then, and she looked over at the door to the house where no less than seven servants, including the normally so unruffled Harville, stood, most of whom were crying unashamedly. “We have created quite a scene, I’m afraid, my Lady Whitlock,” Derek whispered, finding words at last.

Kate snickered and pulled back, noticing how most everyone was still watching them with broad grins. “I feel as though I should wave to my audience.”

“Perhaps you should,” he quipped. “But aren’t you embarrassed, Kate?”

“Not in the least,” she responded, tossing a grin up at him. “I think they may need to get used to it.”

Derek smiled in return and took her hand in his own, lacing his fingers through hers and kissing them fervently. “Come, let me show you what we are doing.”

He led her around the garden, explaining just what he had envisioned and asking her opinions, and forbidding her to order around anybody, as it was his project, not hers. She had grumped at that, but only in good humor, and she could not keep the smile from her face. He showed her the sight for the fountain he had planned, as a pond in such a small back garden was really not feasible, if they wanted to have any space at all remaining. He took her to the future gazebo, which he promised to shower with lilacs, but as they take time to bloom into the magic that the other held, it would not possess the same splendor for a while.