The Scandalous Love of a Duke. Jane Lark

told you so,” he bent sideways to whisper.

      As Phillip looked for John, Katherine felt her hands trembling and her throat dry.

      The drawing room was as ostentatious as the hall. The high ceiling had plaques of painted images, scenes of the Greek gods sprawled on clouds and semi-clad. She had never seen anything so beautiful and so opulent.

      John should have been easy to spot, he was so tall, but she could not see him. “Where is he?” she asked Phillip, her heart racing at the prospect of actually speaking to John.

      “He’s not in here, but the girls are. We’ll wait. He’ll come back this way. You can catch up with Margaret and Eleanor.”

      Her heart was pounding a deafening rhythm as Phillip led her across the room towards John’s family.

      John’s eldest sister, Mary-Rose, spotted them first. She was dressed in black, as they all were, but with her colouring the black only made her look more beautiful. All John’s family were beautiful. Katherine had never compared.

      She pinned a smile on her face. She felt more certain of a welcome from the girls, but she did not wish to appear gauche.

      “I cannot believe it!” Mary exclaimed as they neared. “Phillip! Katherine!” Her exclamation drew the attention of the others.

      Mary had been a young girl when Katherine had seen her last; she was grown up now.

      “I have not seen you for an age,” Mary hugged Katherine.

      They had never been friends, Mary had been too young, and yet the younger girl had admired her brother’s playmate and had a desire to join in. Katherine knew Mary had challenged John as a child over why Kate was allowed to play the boys’ games, when Mary was not. But the young woman’s exuberance was open and honest as Mary gripped Phillip’s offered hand.

      Of course, again, Katherine had forgotten how much better Phillip had known John. She had been welcomed into their circle for an hour here or there in the grounds of Pembroke Place. Phillip had lived with John in the way of a brother, both at school and during the holidays.

      Phillip gallantly kissed the back of Mary’s fingers.

      “John will be beside himself to know you have come. I’m sure he never expected to see you. I shall find him.” Lifting to her toes, she looked across the room. “Oh I cannot see him, I’ll go and look.”

      “No,” Katherine stated firmly, as she felt a sudden panic. “Please, do not disturb him. I’m sure he has more important people to speak with than us.”

      Mary’s pale-blue eyes, the image of John’s, met Katherine’s. “Well, if he has time later I’m sure he will come over and speak.”

      Katherine gave Mary a grateful smile and then looked at Eleanor and Margaret, who stepped forward. “You are both married. I saw the announcements. Are you happy?” It was probably an impertinent question but she could think of nothing else to say.

      They looked at one another and then their eyes looked beyond Katherine.

      “They are together, across the room, there,” Eleanor said, pointing, suddenly a smile in her eyes.

      Katherine turned.

      “Harry is the blonde-haired gentleman, my dashing heir to an Earl,” Eleanor stated. “Is he not handsome? And Margaret’s husband, George, is the brown-haired man. He is a little older than Harry—”

      “But distinguished, don’t you think?” Margaret interjected. “It is lovely to see you.”

      When Katherine turned to face Margaret, she was hugged again, but this time with restraint.

      Then Eleanor hugged Katherine too, but that was not superficial. “It is wonderful to see you. What do you think of them?” Her fingers gripped Katherine’s arm as Katherine looked back at their husbands.

      “They are both exceedingly handsome.”

      “We know.” Eleanor laughed. “We’ll introduce you later. Oh I cannot believe you are here. Now tell us what you have been up to?”

      “Nothing exciting.”

      “She is being modest,” Phillip cut in. “She will not sing her own praises. Kate has set up a Sunday School at home, for the local children who can neither read nor write.”

      It was hardly comparable. They would not be interested. These were glamorous women who fitted in here. Katherine did not.

      “I always said she was too virtuous. You are a saint, Kate,” Eleanor stated.

      Katherine felt her colour rise. “Hardly.” She felt both false and fragile, and tried to hide it.

      “Phillip is right,” Margaret smiled. “You should not feel embarrassed to admit good deeds.”

      Katherine felt ashamed. She was not what they were portraying her as. “Well, I have good reason to give something back, do I not?” They all, possibly bar Mary, knew of her birth, but perhaps she had raised it a little too bluntly. The conversation dried.

      Phillip’s hand rested on Katherine’s waist and the grip gently pulled her closer for a moment, then he let go. Even he did not usually broach the subject.

      “I do it because I enjoy it,” she said to clear the air.

      “That is true,” Phillip stated. “They adore her, every last one of them.”

      The conversation then slipped into questions and answers as they all explored the years of each other’s lives that had been missed.

      ~

      When John entered the state drawing room he felt exhausted. The days since his grandfather’s death had slipped past in a whirl of activity. First there had been the wider family to inform and the state acknowledgements to manage, then the funeral to prepare, and, on top of it, getting to grips with all his grandfather’s business affairs. The mantle of a duke was lying heavy on his shoulders.

      He sighed.

      Richard had said several times that it would feel normal after a while. John could not imagine it. Even though the house was straining at the seams with people today, he felt as isolated as he had been in Egypt, and incapable of relaxing. That was not due to the responsibility, though. It was just who he was – a buzzard among peacocks.

      John doubted any of them had really cared for the old man. He had returned to a world of farce.

      A glass of red wine balanced in one hand, the stem dangling between his fingers, he joined another group of guests, fulfilling his duty. He trusted no one here.

      God, this was his life now: duty and falsehood. He missed Egypt, he missed adventure and peace and simplicity. He was already bored by people’s endless supplication. Everyone seemed to want something from him. They sought to attach themselves to either his wealth or his power.

      His grandfather had warned of this.

      John had had enough. He was seeking his family to escape it for a little while, and he was looking for Mary particularly. He knew his vibrant sister would bring him back from the cold darkness crowding in on him.

      He’d passed his mother and Edward in the hall, they’d been speaking with Richard and Penny and they’d directed him in here.

      His gaze swept about the room then stopped.

      There was a young woman standing amidst his family, like a blonde beacon of light amongst his dark-haired black-clad cousins. She was an angel in her pale-mauve dress.

      Lust gripped hard and firm in his stomach, an intense physical attraction. He’d never experienced anything so instant before. But it was a long time since he’d bedded a woman – far too long.

      Her figure was a sublime balance of curves and narrow waist. Her spine had a beautiful arch as it curved into the point where her dress opened onto a full skirt.