The Scandalous Love of a Duke. Jane Lark

      “But you have not met Harry and George,” Eleanor cried. “You must meet them … ” In barely a moment all the women were gone, and John was left alone with Phillip.

      John felt as though the world had grown colder, but instinctively he filled the quietness with words, setting his glass down on a side table. “How come she is not wed?”

      He and Phillip both looked at Katherine.

      John could see her awkwardness again.

      She was out of place amongst his guests and she felt it. But her self-awareness was refreshing.

      It seemed his taste had not only turned to blonde, but timid too. He was interested despite himself, even though he really should not be, yet there was nothing wrong with indulging curiosity.

      “The right offer has never come along, or rather the right man, I think. My mother’s patience is wearing thin, and my father wishes her settled, after all there is Jennifer waiting in the wings. I believe Kate does not know what to do with herself. She does not wish to simply take anyone.”

      John looked at Phillip. Jennifer was Phillip’s youngest sister. She was six years younger than Katherine. But Katherine was adopted. She was no blood relation to Phillip.

      “Katherine is not happy then?” As children, Katherine had invariably seemed insecure, while Jennifer was simply spoilt.

      Phillip glanced at John. “The schooling brings her happiness, but I do not think she is content. You knew Kate as well as I did. She has not changed.”

      John’s gaze returned to her and he sensed untapped depths trapped within that timid shell. Depths it would be a pleasure exploring.

      “There is something I’d hoped to ask you… if we…” Phillip’s pitch had dropped and the tone implied begging.

      John felt his body stiffen in denial as he looked across. “Go on, ask me now?” Devil take it, he would have preferred to be proven wrong about Phillip’s intentions. Was there no one in London who did not want something from him?

      Phillip turned fully and his gaze ran over John’s expression, showing uncertainty. “This is a bit distasteful to discuss at a funeral…”

      John felt himself scowl. “Nevertheless…” His voice was hard and deep. Just have out with it and let’s be done.

      “Boscombe did some business for the old Duke a while ago and, well, it was unsuccessful, but the thing is Boscombe was never paid.”

      “So you have come here to chase me for it?” John’s voice turned gruff.

      “No, no. I decided to come and told Boscombe I would need the time. He asked if I would mention it…”

      John swallowed, fighting impatience. What he wished to do was toss his former friend out for this audacity. “Why not simply contact Harvey?” Harvey was the Duke of Pembroke’s man of business, everything was done through him.

      “The business did not come from Harvey. It came from Mr Wareham, from Pembroke Place.”

      “Wareham?” John’s surprise sounded in his voice. “Why would Wareham … ?” Wareham was the Estate manager at Pembroke Place. “But he should refer everything through Harvey…” And Harvey had managed John’s grandfather’s affairs for decades?

      “I thought it strange too. I haven’t a clue. Even more odd is that the job was reclaiming a loan. Boscombe couldn’t get it back. That’s the only reason I agreed to ask you. Anyway, I’m sure you don’t really wish to talk of this today. I’ll send the details to Harvey. He can look at it and advise you.”

      “Yes,” John searched Phillip’s gaze for ill-intent but could see nothing false.

      “I’ve put you out of sorts by asking.” He had. “I really did not come to ask you that, John, I only came to see you…”

      John shrugged, his judgement was still undecided, but the fact that Phillip had read that expression only aggravated further.

      Too many people here knew John too well. He really ought to learn his grandfather’s lessons and cease showing any emotion at all. “Let Harvey have the details and your address.”

      “Yes,” Phillip held John’s gaze as though he might say more, like making another foolish suggestion they meet, but he did not. “I ought to take Kate home.”

      John merely nodded and then Phillip walked away.

      John’s eyes returned to Katherine.

      She must have felt his gaze as she’d done earlier, because she looked back.

      He smiled.

      She coloured up, smiling uncertainly, and then looked away.

      ~

      Katherine clung to the edge of Phillip’s curricle with one hand, as her other held the warm rug over her lap while he drove like a madman to get her home before dark.

      The first thing he’d said to her after leaving John’s was, “I told you we’d be welcome.” The second was, “And he was pleased to see you”. She’d conceded the first, but she’d made no comment on the second point.

      Her heart still hammered.

      John had kissed her hand, twice, and she could still feel those kisses burning through her glove. But he had changed. She was certain he’d felt the chasm between them as much as she had, there was no easy camaraderie now. There had been an edge of steel instead, one that warned, do not come too close.

      Her heart ached as she remembered his gaze boring into her.

      Seven years had not changed her. She was still fool enough to crave a man who could never be hers. She was frail, as her adoptive mother said. It was in Katherine’s blood, inherited from her natural mother. Katherine was flawed, wicked and full of sin. It was true. She had an unnatural need for John.

      When they arrived home, Phillip walked about the carriage to help Katherine down with a broad smile.

      She accepted his hand and made a decision never to see John again. If she never saw him she could forget this human desire.

      Phillip gripped her arm and guided her towards the house.

      “If you want to come up to Town, to pay a visit on Eleanor or Margaret, write.”

      She shook her head. “I am sure the last thing they would want is for me to actually call. I know they made the offer and their husbands were charming, but it was just politeness, Phillip.”

      “You are too self-deprecating, Kate. They meant it.”

      She looked up at him, “They were merely being charitable, Phillip. I am happy as I am.”

      Phillip’s gaze held hers. “Are you?”

      “Yes.” She pulled her arm free from his grip as they reached the door.

      “You do not convince me of it, Kate, you hardly ever smile, and I cannot remember the last time I heard you laugh.”

      He was speaking out of concern, she knew that, but she had no intention of talking to him about how things stood for her, it would not be fair, and she would never speak to anyone of her redundant feelings for John.

      The door opened, “Castle,” Phillip acknowledged the middle-aged butler.

      Katherine untied the ribbons of her bonnet as Phillip encouraged her to enter first.

      “Phillip! You are back!” Their mother’s voice came from the drawing room, and then she was in the hall, holding her hands out to Phillip. “You must stay for tea.”

      “I need to get back to town, Mama.”

      Katherine clung on to her bonnet and gloves.

      “But, Phillip, I barely see