Page 43 of Kathryn

And then—at ten weeks and one day—a coach with Lady Grimsby’s escutcheon arrived at the Marquess of Lindhurst’s house.

Jasper had returned.

Katie had been jubilant and humbled. How could she have ever doubted him? He was here and everything was not lost, after all.

But less than an hour after his homecoming the news had swept the village: Lord Jasper had brought his new wife home with him.

The sound of the connecting door opening jarred Katie from her reverie. She blinked up at Dulverton, her mind still mired in the past. He was dressed in his evening clothes, his cold eyes and austere features all the more jarring when contrasted with her memory of Jasper’s handsome, laughing face.

“I waited for you in the library,” he said.

Katie got to her feet and pulled her dressing gown closed. “By the time you sent the servant I’d already changed for bed. I did not realize you expected me.” She paused but then could not resist adding, “I only received orders for dinner, not the rest of the evening.”

His lips tightened. “You prefer to retire early?” he asked, evidently deciding to ignore her provocative comment.

“I do not prefer it. I just did not know what else to do.”

“What do you usually do after dinner?”

“The same thing everyone else does.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I go to a ball or the theater or some other function.”

“What do you do when you are in the country?”

“Accompany my sister-and-brother-in-law when they go to various functions. Or they often entertain at Chatham Park.” She didn’t tell him that she often took over the hostess duties for Hy.

“Do you do anything other than attend balls, parties, the theater, or other entertainments?” His tone was even but there was a faintly supercilious twist to his lips.

“Of course I do other things,” she snapped.

“Such as?”

“I read.” Foolishly, she pointed to the novel on her nightstand. She had been attempting to read Waverly for weeks but only managed a page or two most nights before she snuffed the candle and proceeded to stare into the darkness.

“You read,” he repeated flatly. “Is that all?”

Katie’s mind stubbornly remained blank, which, illogically, just made her angrier at Dulverton. “I am useless. Is that what you were attempting to ascertain, Your Grace?”

He opened his mouth.

“I am a creature of frivolity, and my head is full of fluff and—” Katie broke off with a yelp when he closed the distance between them in four long strides. She took a step back, forgetting the chair, and stumbled. He caught her, just as he had that night in the garden, and held her upper arms. Rather than release her, he loomed over her, and Katie had to crane her neck to see him.

The muscles of his face worked beneath his darkly tanned skin, his wintry eyes slid to her mouth, and the nostrils of his prominent, high-bridged nose flared. Heat blasted off his body like a blacksmith’s forge. For a moment Katie thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he firmly put her at arm’s length, and she could not decide whether she was relieved or disappointed.

“I do not care for balls, the theater, dinner parties, and the like,” he said.

Katie snorted. “Really? You shock me.”

He ignored her sniping and said, “You will have to find other ways to occupy your time in the country.” He cast a dismissive glance at the copy of Waverly on her bedside table. “As you are such a great reader you will need to tell my secretary what books you want, and he will purchase them for you.”

“Thank you for your kind offer,” she said acidly. “But I can purchase my own books.”

“He will also see that the tomes are appropriately bound before they are delivered,” he went on, as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Appropriately bound?” she laughed rudely. “Too bad you can’t do the same thing to me so that I fit in.”