Married to the Marquess (8 page)

She had run through every scenario she could in her mind, practiced at least thirty different ways to approach the subject of his stay, and tried to produce no less than seven very sincere and innocent expressions, and none of the attempts had been worth very much. She would have to tell him something at some point, and it was going to have to be soon. Time was not something she had the luxury of taking for granted.

At the moment, she found that what she lacked more than time was courage, which was a strange sensation. There was not much that actually made her want to cower in a corner somewhere.

Leaving her room in the black mourning gown she detested, and with her hair pulled tightly back as she always kept it, she made her way downstairs. She caught sight of the maids and asked, “Jemima, has Lord Whitlock been down to eat yet?” She fought the urge to cross her fingers and hoped desperately that he had not.

“Yes, milady,” the girl responded with a quick bob. “He and the Earl of Beverton and Mr. Gerrard are just finishing in the breakfast room.”

Blast.
She did not want to see Whitlock
and
two of his friends this morning. Colin Gerrard was one of those people that one either loved or hated, and Katherine was not one that loved him. The Earl of Beverton, on the other hand, was generally a very pleasant man, though Katherine knew that his opinion of her was formed by his association with Whitlock, and therefore, he was somewhere between terrified she would lash out and bite him and disgusted by the very sight of her.

The feeling was mutual. She further did not wish to see the earl this morning, for his wife had called every day since
she
had arrived, and some days twice, and had left a card every time. At this rate, she would have a stack of the countess’s cards that was larger than her own.

But now she had to face that woman’s husband as well as her own, with the addition of a loon at that.

She would merely have to ask if Whitlock would speak with her privately, that is all. Surely he would grant his wife that request.

With a final release of breath, she pushed open the door and found the three of them laughing uproariously about something, and she knew instantly that there would have been no preparation she could have made that would have given her more ease.

It took them all a moment to notice her approach, but once they did, her husband stood hastily, and was quickly followed by the other two. Well, at least they had manners. For the moment.

“Good morning, Kate!” Derek crowed aloud. His friends bowed politely, but he refrained, no doubt hoping to garner a response.

He did. She stiffened and fixed her cold, dark eyes upon him. “I prefer Katherine.”

“Well, I prefer Kate,” he stated as he and his friends sat back down. Colin looked excited about the potential fight that was brewing. Beverton, on the other hand, seemed remarkably ill at ease.

 “It is not your name,” Katherine said through clenched teeth as her hands tightly balled into fists.

He shrugged and replaced his serviette into his lap as he reached for another biscuit. “It’s not your choice. I will call you what I want to call you and you will just have to deal with that.”

“I will not answer.” Her voice was starting to grow shrill, and Katherine knew she was reaching a breaking point. It galled her that he knew how to taunt her so very well.

He offered her one more careless shrug. “Then I will continue to call you Kate and worse until you do.”

A sound so high she nearly could not hear it escaped her. “Insufferable man!” she screeched.

“Impossible woman!” he mimicked near perfectly with a smirk.

“Aren’t mornings with Derek and Katherine the best?” Colin sighed to Beverton.

Katherine gathered up what control she had remaining, and said, “Might I have a word with you in private, Whitlock?”

He grinned rather impishly. “Going to scold me, are you, Kate?”

“Katherine.”

“Whatever. Chamber pot, remember.”

“Yes, I remember,” she snapped. Then she took a steadying breath. “I need to speak with you. Alone.”

“That’s not likely,” he said as he tossed a grin to his friends, which Colin returned and Beverton did not. “I’d like to keep my head firmly attached to my body and all of my limbs too, if I can help it.”

“So little confidence in your own strength?” she retorted before she could stop herself.
A duchess never reacts in haste or retaliation
, came the scolding voice of her mother in her head.

That was one of her least favorite rules. Katherine was always reacting in haste and retaliation where her husband was concerned. It was the only way to behave around him.

“Bravo, Kate,” Whitlock said with a small amount of applause. “That was a brilliant retort. But as I was going to say, I will not be removing myself from this sumptuous breakfast, nor will I ask my friends to. Therefore, if you wish to speak to me you will either have to wait until I am finished or say it here in front of these two gentlemen.”

“Derek, I can…” Lord Beverton began, but he was silenced with a glare, and then chanced a look at Katherine, who was surprised by his actions. Perhaps having a wife had changed him.

Katherine looked back to her husband, who obviously had no idea what she needed to speak to him about. If he did, there was no way he would have even suggested that she do this here and now in front of his friends. But if that was what Whitlock wanted, then that was what Whitlock was going to get.

“Very well,” she said slowly, knowing that she should not, but would, enjoy every single moment of his discomfort, in spite of her own mortification, “then I will tell you now, with your friends present.”

A quick lifting of his brows was all the satisfaction Katherine needed as Whitlock’s always so carefully composed features shifted to complete surprise. Oh, this would be sweet indeed.

“I need you to stay in London for at least another two weeks,” she told him, folding her hands in front of her.

He recovered his surprise and snorted. “Whatever for? I’ve already been here three days, which is entirely too long as it is.”

She offered a very small smile, which made his eyes widen, just a touch, with worry. “I need you to stay because people think you have come into town to get me with child.”

Colin choked on his drink instantly, Beverton closed his eyes and put a hand to his forehead, and her husband merely sat there stunned, though his face went shockingly devoid of color. “How do you…?” he started to say in a very weak, very hoarse voice.

“My sister overheard some of the ladies yesterday,” Katherine said, enjoying this far too much to even feel mortified any longer. “You know Aurelia, she never lies about gossip.”

His harsh swallowing told her that he did know that. After a moment, he said, “So I need to stay because…”

“Because otherwise people will think me incapable of sustaining your attention or they will think you unable or unwilling to further your bloodlines,” she finished, waiting for his response.

He closed his eyes and shook his head for a moment, and then he looked back at her. “How long, did you say?”

“Two weeks,” she repeated, feeling victory nigh at hand. “And you would not have to come later in the year, if you wished.”

“It’s a trick,” Colin muttered aloud, not caring that she could hear him. “It’s all a trick, Derek, don’t listen…”

“Shut up, Colin,” the other two men said at the same time. Then Beverton continued, “Derek, Moira and I will stay as long as you want. She’s enjoying herself very much.”

Her husband nodded, then looked back to her. “Very well. I will stay another two weeks from today. Maybe that will quiet the rumors for some time.”

But not forever.

The unsaid words hung in the air, and Katherine and Whitlock held each other’s gaze, each sensing what the other was thinking at the moment. The time would have to come soon.

Oblivious to everything, Colin snorted. “Well, I, for one, am not staying,” he announced.

“Who asked you to?” Katherine snapped as she flicked her eyes to him.

That earned her a grin from Beverton, who gave her the barest hint of a nod in approval. Perhaps the earl would grow on her with time. 

Derek ignored them all as his mind raced. He spent his whole life held to a high standard of behavior, and had been proud of the fact that his reputation was spotless and without comment, save for his unhappy marriage, which was not so surprising as many other people had them as well. But now…

He looked back to Kate. He would only think of her as Kate now, it was too much fun. She was watching him carefully, and for once, her eyes on him did not make him want to cringe.

He should have met with her in private.

“I think we should talk in private,” he told her, his voice hoarse still.

“What?” Colin gasped in horror. “Why?”

“Colin, if you want to be welcome in anybody’s house any further, you need to stop talking,” Nathan ordered firmly. “In fact, I think we have stayed long enough. Let’s leave some breakfast for Lady Whitlock, and Derek, we will meet you at the stables.”

Derek nodded, but Kate shook her head. “Thank you, Lord Beverton, but it is not necessary. I have quite finished with what I have to say, and I think my husband needs the distraction.”

Derek looked at her in confusion. Was she actually being nice to him?

She looked far too smug, and he felt his heart resume normal pacing. No, she was just being Katherine the Terror, everything on her terms, in her way. For all he knew, she had started the rumors herself just to spite him. “Well, I was going to oblige you,” he sneered at her, feeling rather angered by her cavalier attitude towards the whole situation, “but if you would rather I go, then absolutely, I will do so.”

“I do want you gone,” she told him, her eyes flashing, but at least the smugness had vanished. “I never wanted you here in the first place.”

“Then you shouldn’t have sent for me!” Derek yelled, knowing full well that he was not nearly as composed as he preferred to be in her presence, but not particularly caring at the moment. How dare the Society of London think they could gossip about what did or did not go on within his bedchamber? He had quite enough to be going on with.

“We have already been over this!” she returned, her cheeks coloring with indignation. “I never meant for you to come!”

“Then why the hell did you even write, Kate?” he bellowed, shooting to his feet, upending his breakfast plate all over Colin, who squawked faintly in protest.

“Some of us,” she retorted loudly, “maintain an air of sophistication and respectability and decorum regardless of how distasteful the subject may be.”

“Oh, come off it, Kate!” Derek said in disgust. “Sophistication and decorum? Nobody would have known if you hadn’t told me about the great tragedy of your mother’s death. You had no cause to even inform me, and order me here I might add, if you didn’t want me. Lord knows I wouldn’t have come on my own for that hag, believe me.”

“You go too far,” Katherine whispered as her eyes clouded with a sheen of tears, but Derek was beyond caring.

“Forgive me for that,” he said sarcastically with a dramatic bow to her, “since you have
always
been so kind and deserving of considerate treatment, and never say things beyond the bounds of respectability. What a horrible example I will be for our children.”

“If we ever have any,” she spat, even as her face paled at his words. “At the moment, I do not know if I would rather bring anything with your bloodlines into this world or spend an eternity being the brunt of every joke and gossip in London.”

“Well, you don’t see me carting you off to bed, now do you?” he retorted as he headed towards the door. “The world has enough harpies in it without your help.”

“How dare you!” she screeched, rooted in place as she was, watching him go, and his friends following, both of them entirely silent.

“Oh, I dare whenever, however, and with whomever I please, Kate,” Derek said with one last look at her, his tone low and dangerous, “and I do not need to refer to you or to any other person on this earth to do so.” He turned away, and muttered, “Bloody whore,” under his breath to his friends, neither of whom found it amusing.

“Derek,” Nathan hissed as he took his hat and gloves from the maid, “that’s hardly called for. What if she heard you?”