Suspicion always haunts the guilty mind.
—Henry VI, act 5, scene 6
The rain had been beating steadily against the windowpanes in Adam’s book room. Even with the fire blazing most of the day, a chilly nip lingered in the air. Adam’s solicitors had sat across the desk from him for several hours, answering his questions about his various properties, businesses, and investments. But thoughts of Katherine had never left his mind.
He’d finally dismissed the solicitors half an hour ago, and now the quiet of the house was closing in on him. Once, the solitude had been welcome. Not anymore. Now it was more like a burden.
Learning about the Greyhawke entailed property and other holdings had been challenging, but he was now feeling confident that he could visit the estates and properties. He knew the status of each holding, how it was managed, and who directed it.
The lamps had been lit. Pharaoh lay near the fire, and Dixon played quietly with his toy soldiers near the hearth. He’d been patiently waiting for Adam to play a game of chess with him.
But something was missing. Katherine. He wanted to see her sitting by the fire, stitching her embroidery, knitting scarves for orphans, or reading her book of poetry and occasionally looking up at him and smiling. He actually felt her absence.
In the two years he’d spent in isolation on the coast, silence had been all he’d wanted. He supposed he’d needed that time to himself. But now he wanted more. When Dixon had been left on his doorstep, it had given a reason and purpose to his life. Adam smiled to himself. He should find Mr. Alfred Hopscotch and thank him for bringing the boy to him.
The one part of his life that wasn’t settled was Katherine. He squeezed his eyes shut. He loved her more than his own life. It was easy to admit that to himself. Thinking about her was invigorating and maddening. He had no doubt he would be good for her. Already she was walking and dancing when she hadn’t even attempted to stand without her cane when he’d first met her. If only he could marry her. But he couldn’t overcome the harsh blow fate had dealt him.
Pharaoh roused his head and woofed. He rose and trotted toward the doorway, but Adam called him back. “Pharaoh. Come here.” The dog stopped and looked over at Adam and then back to the door. He barked again and then stared at Adam as if to say, I hear something.
“Answering the door is Clark’s job, remember. Now, get over here beside me. Besides, it’s probably just another messenger dropping off yet another invitation to a dinner or party. Whoever it is, he doesn’t want you standing at the door growling at him.” It seemed to Adam that he received two or three invites a day.
Clark walked into the book room and whispered to him, “The Duke of Quillsbury is here, my lord. I took the liberty of asking him to wait in the drawing room and offered him a drink. I hope that was all right.”
Adam relaxed against his chair. So either the aunt or the butler had seen him kiss Katherine yesterday afternoon in the garden. Sweet hell, he had no one to blame but himself. He’d known the chance he was taking when he went to see her. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her. Even though he hadn’t stayed very long, had he sabotaged himself?
“Tell His Grace I’ll be right in.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Adam rose and so did Pharaoh. He looked down at the dog. “No. Stay.” Pharaoh quarreled with him and barked. “Yes, it will be a difficult visit, but I don’t need you in there, my friend.”
“Are you talking to the dog again?” Dixon asked.
“Yes.” Adam didn’t want the chance of Dixon wandering into the drawing room and overhearing his conversation with the duke either.
“Dixon, I’m going to close the door behind me. Stay in here with him and see he doesn’t get out. I have a guest in the drawing room. Understand?”
Dixon ran over to Pharaoh and put his arms around the big dog’s neck. “He won’t get out this time.”
Adam rubbed Pharaoh’s head and then Dixon’s before slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace.” Adam stopped and bowed before continuing on into the drawing room.
The duke rose and greeted him with a slight bow and nod. “I’m sorry for arriving without making an appointment. I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important in your afternoon, my lord.”
“Not at all. My business has been concluded for the day. Please, sit down.” Adam walked over to pour himself a nip of brandy and asked, “Can I add a splash to your glass?”
The duke shook his head and sat down in the wingback chair. “I suppose you know why I’m here.”
No reason to make it easy on the old man, Adam thought as he settled himself in the chair opposite the formidable-looking duke. “I wouldn’t presume to venture a guess.”
“No, I don’t suppose a clever man would ever implicate himself in anything. I now know of three instances where you’ve been seen with my niece in your arms.”
Guilty of the three and a few more.
Adam remained pensive. He knew what the duke wanted. Hell, Adam wanted it, too.
“The first was outside my own front door, which as you know I witnessed.”
“You know the reason for that incident, Your Grace.”
“And thanks to Lady Leola’s quick thinking, the repercussions were manageable. Besides, I only know what I was told about the evening.” His gaze held firmly on Adam’s. “Then there was the afternoon in front of Potts Orphanage, which Katherine has been known to frequent carrying her donations from that ridiculous Wilted Tea Society to which she belongs, though only God knows why.”
The duke paused again and looked at Adam as if he expected an explanation, so Adam obliged.
“It’s true we were both there at the same time. Quite by accident. No doubt Miss Wright has explained how that incident came about.”
“I’ve not spoken with her about it, or about my visit to you this afternoon. Nor do I intend to.”
Adam found it odd that the duke hadn’t questioned Katherine before coming to see him. He would do his best to make sure no condemning light was shed on Katherine.
“She was doing her charitable work, and I was there because Dixon, my heir, lived at the orphanage until I was located. Some of his personal things were left there when he was brought to me. I was checking on them for him.”
“I’ve no doubt you both had obvious and legitimate reasons for being there. There were several who witnessed her in your arms that afternoon, and it cost me a tidy sum to squelch the rumors swelling from it before they were printed.”
Adam had wondered why the incident never showed up in the scandal sheets. He’d assumed it was because it was clear Pharaoh was the villain and he’d had to help Katherine up off the ground.
“So you know it was my dog who created that scene and there was nothing I could do but help Miss Wright stand up.”
“Surely I don’t have to tell you that gossip and truth are seldom cut from the same cloth.”
There was a long silence. Adam swirled the brandy, but he hadn’t tasted it.
“And then there was the incident yesterday in my back garden,” the duke said.
Oh, yes, there was.
And for that one, Adam had no viable excuse as to why Katherine was in his arms. Maybe it was the warm sunshine on his back. The scent of freshly trimmed shrubs, the earth, and Katherine’s fresh-washed hair. Just the fact that she was in his arms and dancing with him. Whatever it was, once he saw her, he knew he couldn’t leave without tasting her passion for him once again.
“I’m sure if I asked, you’d tell me she tripped over a twig and you had to help her.”
So the elderly duke had a sense of humor.
“I fear if she falls one more time before she is betrothed, my lord, she’ll lose all the offers she currently has for her hand in marriage.”
“I don’t see that happening, Your Grace.”
“One never knows. So is there anything you want to ask me?”
Adam’s eyes narrowed. He knew exactly what the duke was getting at. And hell, yes, he’d like to offer for her hand right now, but how could he chance getting her with child? Fate had made that impossible.
He met the duke stare for stare, wanting to do what was right, what he wanted. But he said, “No.”
His Grace’s passive expression never changed. “So, you don’t think you have damaged her reputation beyond repair and you have no responsibility to save her from further scandal and ruination?”
That was a harsh way for the duke to say it. Still, Adam remained silent.
“Our servants will talk to their servant friends about what was seen yesterday afternoon. Those friends will talk to their employers and other friends, who will talk to their friends. By the time everyone is finished dragging Katherine’s name into the woods and back with a man that’s been called the beast, I fear not even that besotted young Viscount Rudyard will want to wed her.”
Adam grimaced. The duke was making a powerful case for marriage. Adam was tempted. There were precautions he could take, that Katherine could take, to keep her from getting with child, but that’s all they were: precautions.
“If you are not a beast but a man of honor who holds dear the title Earl of Greyhawke, I implore you to do the only respectable thing for my niece and offer for her hand and save her from the torrent of gossip that is sure to follow her for years if you don’t.”
The duke knew how to aim directly for Adam’s heart. And hit it. He felt as if it were exploding in his chest. If he married her, he couldn’t stay away from her. That was a fact. He wanted her too desperately. He knew himself too well.
“I will ask for her hand,” he answered before he could talk himself out of it yet again. “With your permission, I’ll come to your house in an hour. I’ll expect a few minutes alone with her.”
The duke rose and set his glass on the table. “That’s all I wanted to hear. Consider it done.”