Page 82 of The Duchess Games

It was official. She was the smuggler of Little Crumpet.

And it would be enough. She would make it enough.

On the way back from the moors, she saw Penhallow, gray as a thundercloud on the cliff. Light flashed off the windows. Was Callum still inside? Was he sitting in his library, where he had pinned her to the settee and pleasured her until she screamed? Where she had betrayed him, the letters in her dress even as she writhed underneath him, eager for more? Had he spotted Bartholomew the turtle? The hawk on the roof? Had he visited the kittens?

Was he back in London even now, strolling through pleasure gardens, shopping on Bond Street? Would she see him one day, if she went to sell her lace? Would he even notice her?

Why couldn’t she stop asking herself questions that had no answers? At least no answers that made her feel any better.

At least her luck in love was not contagious.

When she returned the cart to Ambrose and made her way back to the cottage, Viola was in the garden, showing Ruby her watercress garden and the rabbits that lived under the shed. Ruby stood out like an exotic hothouse flower in her silver silk dress, diamond drops at her ears. There was a one-eyed goat butting her knee and she laughed. Not so incongruous, after all.

She also held Viola’s hand in hers, their heads tilted together as they whispered.

Cat knew that blush, that feeling of being outside of time.

They broke apart when Cat opened the gate. She refused to look at the garden wall, to remember Callum chasing her. It was hard enough not to see him at her kitchen table, eating Figgy ’Obbin.

“Cat!” Viola rubbed her hands on her skirt.

Ruby frowned as if Cat had run at them with a garden shovel.

She needn’t have worried. Cat would never deprive her sister of happiness. She smiled. Viola’s shoulders softened. She touched Ruby’s wrist. “I told you it would be fine.”

Ruby blinked. “I am not used to a family such as yours.”

Cat snorted. “No one else is likely to have a one-eyed goat.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”

“Although, he is surprisingly darling.”

Lady Ruby Chatsworth of Grosvenor Square, London, thought Seaweed, with his bad manners and frankly fragrant breath, was darling.

“Ruby has invited me to visit her in London,” Viola said shyly.

Viola’s dream had always been London.

“I see.”

“Say you won’t stop me.”

“Of course, I won’t.”

“And I thought I might also bring some of your lace,” Ruby added.

Cat stilled. She turned to her sister. Viola wrinkled her nose. “I had to tell her,” she blurted out. “I needed her help keeping the custom agents distracted when Armstrong started asking for you.”

“I told you not to do that. I had it in hand.”

Viola rolled her eyes. “You are risking your life for us. The least I can do is flirt and dance a little.”

“A little?” Ruby muttered.

Viola grinned. “Your secret is safe with her.”