Page 66 of Kathryn

“Oh, you go ahead and laugh, you.”

“I beg your pardon, Becky. I was just teasing a little.” Katie then spoiled her apology by laughing again.

Becky ignored her. “Mr. Court recommended I employ his method on your bedding.”

“An excellent notion.”

“His Grace does not care to sleep on bedding two nights running,” Becky added, still studiously avoiding Katie’s gaze.

“Goodness. That sounds like a great deal of work.”

“Oh, I shan’t need to do it all myself. Mr. Court just wanted to show me so that I would be able to keep a close eye on the laundry woman, who is heavy-handed with the starch if she is not kept in check.”

“Engage more help if you need it, Becky. I don’t want you run off your feet. Or getting nasty, chapped hands from doing endless washing.”

Becky finished combing out the tangles and plaited Katie’s hair into a thick rope. “Mr. Court is very knowledgeable about a great many things. I—I was wrong about him being standoffish. He is merely reserved and a man of few words.”

Katie made a noncommittal noise.

“I am extremely fortunate that he is here to advise me,” Becky added when Katie didn’t speak, her tone a bit defiant.

Katie was bemused by her friend’s attraction to her husband’s valet. Court was the sort of man it would be easy to overlook. He was tall and lanky with dark hair shorn close to his head, hooded eyes, and unexceptional features. It fascinated her that Becky had become so enamored of such a dull-looking man.

Katie blinked at the thought. Hadn’t Andrew called Dulverton dull? And Katie did not see how that nickname could ever fit her husband. Perhaps dullness, like beauty, was in the eye of the beholder?

“The Duke of Chatham keeps an under valet to manage his laundry,” she added, sounding defensive.

Katie was amused. “Does he? I did not realize my brother-in-law was such a stickler. I look forward to having softer bedding and garments,” she added soothingly when she saw Becky was looking a bit ruffled.

Becky gave a low hmph and tied the ribbons of Katie’s cap beneath her chin.

“That’s too tight,” Katie demurred, taking the ties from Becky’s fingers. “Well, don’t work all night on my laundry. With Court,” a teasing imp made her add.

“No, no, of course not.” Color flooded to her friend’s face yet again, and Becky opened her mouth, but then shut it and regally inclined her head. “If that is all, Your Grace.”

“Yes, that is all for tonight.” On impulse, she seized the smaller woman and gave her a loud kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Becks.”

“Oh, leave off, you,” Beck sputtered, scrubbing a hand over her wet cheek and giving Katie a playful shove.

Naturally, Dulverton chose that moment to open the connecting door, pausing on the threshold and regarding them with such a look of startlement on his severe features that Katie laughed harder.

Becky, however, looked mortified and dropped a curtsey low enough for a king before scurrying from the room.

***

Just when Gerrit did not believe his wife could look any more beautiful, he discovered he was wrong. He had no idea what she and her dresser were up to that had caused such mirth, but the laughter illuminated her lovely face in such a way that his chest actually hurt looking at her. Even her staid nightgown, tightly plaited hair, and the ugly, matronly nightcap could not dim her allure.

“I beg your pardon, Dulverton,” she said, tucking away her smile as if it was something dirty.

Her apology rankled, even though engaging in such mirth with a servant was undignified. Gerrit shut the door and entered the room. “You needn’t apologize to me for being happy, Kathryn.”

The last traces of her good humor fled. “Duly noted, Your Grace.”

“I would prefer your hair be unbound when I come to you. And I do not care to see you in a nightcap.”

She seemed to swell in size and even Gerrit could recognize the signs of an impending tantrum. “Please,” he added.

She hesitated a long moment before her hands went to the laces of her cap. Once she removed it, she carelessly tossed it onto the bench at the end of the bed.