“What is it, my dear?” Frankie asked, her brow creasing with concern. “You have been quite out of sorts these past few days. Are you still troubled by what Lord Avon tried to do to you? I should be surprised if you were not, but really, you’re quite safe now.”
Katrina was ashamed to have caused Frankie so much trouble when she had gone out of her way to entertain her and dredged up a reassuring smile. “Oh no, I try not to think about that. Take no notice of me. I expect I’m just tired and a little run down.”
“I hope you are not sickening for something.”
I am sure I’m not. It’s more a case of not being used to so many late nights and such endless activity.”
“The ton can be a little exhausting. I did warn you about that. Are you sure that’s all it is?”
Oh lud, Frankie was too perceptive and Katrina couldn’t possibly tell her the truth. “Of course. What else could it possibly be?”
Frankie smiled. “Well, in that case, I would suggest that we forego the Harrington ball this evening and have a quiet night to ourselves.”
Katrina bit her lip, fraught with indecision. It was true what she had said. Ungrateful wretch that she was, she was already tiring of the endless round of rather pointless entertainments. Pointless unless a certain duke’s brother happened to be in attendance.
Their trip to Vauxhall had been three days ago and she had only seen Nate once since then when he called briefly at Park Street. She did not have the opportunity to converse with him alone since others were present and he didn’t remain behind in order to have her to himself. It was as though he was withdrawing his friendship.
Well, why would he not? He had kissed her, rather passionately as it happened. Since then Katrina had thought endlessly about the feelings it had engendered deep inside her; feelings she had never experienced before and was perfectly sure that she never would again. The admiration she thought she had detected in his eyes as the full weight of his dark gaze settled upon her features had buoyed her spirits. It had been a defining moment for Katrina. The moment when she gave up all pretence and admitted to herself that she had rather foolishly, and against every impulse she had been trained to ignore, allowed passion to override common sense.
Put simply, she had fallen in love with him.
A man of Lord Nate’s experience and sophistication would have noticed the signs, which explained why he had rapidly backed away for fear of encouraging her. She wanted to tell him not to worry. She would not pursue him. After all, she had her pride. Or there again, perhaps he thought she was partly to blame for Lord Avon’s actions—that she had encouraged him in some way—and thought less of her as a consequence. Nothing could be further from the truth. She had seen nothing of Lord Avon since then but lived in fear that he might say or do something about her attendance at Vauxhall that would reach her father’s ears, accounting for the fact that her nerves were tormenting her.
In spite of everything, the desire to see Nate again, to be held in his arms as they waltzed together one last time, fizzed through her brain on a continuous loop. Perhaps he would be at the Harrington ball tonight. It would be her last opportunity to enjoy his society since Papa could arrive at any moment.
She shook her head to dispel the thought of attending a ball that didn’t interest her in the vain hope of Nate appearing. She and Frankie had been to the most fashionable parties these past two nights and there had been no sign of him. So where had he gone instead? Katrina was overwrought with jealousy as the possibility of a mistress, a house of disrepute or other increasingly fantastic yet highly credible possibilities slipped through her mind.
“If you don’t mind missing the ball,” Katrina said, reaching a decision. “It would be lovely to stay at home. I have been constantly in your company these past weeks but it has been so frantic that we have barely had time to talk properly. And I, miserable excuse for a guest that I am, have not properly expressed my gratitude when you have put yourself to so much trouble on my behalf. I am sure you would not have voluntarily gone to half the events we have attended had it not been for me and I want you to know how very much obliged to you I am.”
Frankie patted her hand. “The pleasure has been entirely mine. I have enjoyed showing you off and pretending you are my niece.”
Katrina laughed. “Frankie, I am only a few years younger than you are!”
“Ah, but you are not used to the ton and have not yet become jaded by the questionable pleasures on offer. That makes you seem a great deal younger than you actually are and has provided me with an opportunity to enjoy myself vicariously.”
Younger and probably very unsophisticated, Katrina thought glumly. No wonder Nate had no abiding interest in her. The side of her in urgent need of reassurance wanted to believe that was partly because she had told him she was all but promised to Mr. Brown. Katrina tried not to think about that situation, aware that it would soon become a reality. She had, up until coming to London, accepted her father’s plans for her future as a duty, not stopping to consider her own wishes or desires. Papa did not at all approve of desires. Duty first, self second, was his motto. An honourable gentleman of Nate’s ilk would not pay court to a lady who had made her non-availability plainly apparent, and so she could at least pretend that he might otherwise have done so.
“In other words, your only pleasure has been in watching me and you haven’t enjoyed the attentions of a handsome and eligible duke,” Katrina said with a mischievous smile.
Frankie smiled and shook her head, refusing to be drawn. “Now, if you are sure you would like to stay in, I shall tell Evans we are not at home this afternoon to callers—”
“Oh, I thought…but, of course.” Katrina felt herself blushing in the face of Frankie’s amusement. “Yes, that would probably be best.”
“Don’t worry. Evans is aware there are certain callers to whom we shall always be at home.”
And so the ladies settled down together to enjoy their afternoon tea, secure in the knowledge that they would not be interrupted. Katrina listened to Frankie as she talked candidly about her life as the wife of a diplomat; about the endless dreary receptions, the constant moving from place to place, never being able to make friends. Never knowing half the time where her husband had disappeared to and how long he would be gone for. The need to mind every word she said.
“There must have been some things about the life that you enjoyed,” Katrina said, wrinkling her nose at the gloomy picture Frankie painted.
“I enjoyed the Paris fashions.”
They both laughed but Katrina knew Frankie was being brutally honest in an effort to ensure that Katrina knew what she would be letting herself in for. How could she not know? It was a life she had been born into and she had known what would be expected of her when she reached marriageable age as soon as she was old enough to understand such matters. She had been perfectly accepting of that situation.
Until now.
“Anyway, my dear, you must not think that…what is it, Evans?” Frankie asked, glancing up at her butler who had quietly entered the room.
“Lord Heston is here, my lady.”
“Papa!”
Katrina jumped up in delight, all uncertainties forgotten as she prepared to be reunited with her beloved father. A father for whom she would do anything, absolutely anything. Even marry Mr. Brown. Now that he was here, ready to give her guidance again, all doubts in that respect faded away. Of course he knew what was best for her. He always had.
“Please show him in, Evans.”
Katrina hurled herself into her father’s arms and he caught her to him, smiling down at her, no sign of the disapproval he had expressed in his letter evident in his expression.
“Papa, what a delightful surprise. I did not expect to see you for another day or two.”
“For once I was able to complete my business sooner than expected.” He released Katrina and turned towards Frankie. “How are you, Lady St. John?”
“Perfectly well, I thank you.”
“And I can see you have taken excellent care of my dear girl, for which I thank you most sincerely. She glows.”
“I’m glad you think so.” Frankie headed for the door. “I am sure you two have a lot to talk about and so I shall leave you to yourselves. Evans, some fresh tea for our guests if you please.”
“How are you, Papa?” Katrina asked as they took seats beside the fire. “You look tired and I don’t think you have taken proper care of yourself without me there to ensure you do.”
“Oh, there is nothing wrong with me,” he replied, waving aside her concerns. “I have been kept very busy but now that I am home I intend to ease back from my duties. There is not so much to do now that Napoleon has been put in his place.”
“No, I suppose not.” But Katrina knew that wasn’t true. British interests overseas always kept His Majesty’s diplomats fully occupied. “Do you intend to reopen the house in Jacobs Well now that you are back?”
“I think it’s time we returned to our home, do you not agree, my dear?”
“Certainly I do, and I shall be able to look after you. Are we to go immediately?”
“No, I shall be needed in London for the next week or two.”
Katrina tried not to let her relief show. She wouldn’t be able to see Nate of course, not now that Papa would be on hand to keep an eagle eye on her. But knowing he was in the same city as her would be enough to keep her happy. It would also frazzle her nerves, worrying that any moment Lord Avon might approach him.
“Then I shall remain here with Frankie until you are ready to leave.”
“No, I think not.” Papa’s expression became resolute. “It would be better if you and I were together. We have inconvenienced Lady St. John quite enough.”
“Oh, but Papa…” Her words trailed off. What was there she could possibly say?
“I know you have enjoyed your time in London, and I dare say collected your share of admirers along the way. I feared that might happen.”
“Is it so very wicked to enjoy being admired, Papa?”
“No, my dear, but we have talked often of the folly of allowing one’s emotions to rule the rational part of one’s brain.” He shook his head. “There are changes in you and I can see that in the pursuit of pleasure you have quite forgotten that rule. I blame myself for that. I should have known that the novelty of a London season would make such things fly from your brain.”
“You are cross with me, Papa,” she said in a tone of mild reproof, “and yet I have done nothing to deserve your censure.”
Papa flexed a bushy brow. “Other than to waltz when you should not have.”
“Other than that, which was not such a very great sin I think. I was in a crowded ballroom after all.” She refused to drop her gaze, probably looking as defiant as she felt, refusing to regret dancing with the man who had stolen her heart. A man she would most likely never see again.
“We shall agree to disagree on that score and say nothing more about it. As to our immediate future, I shall rent an apartment for us somewhere close to Westminster. I already have people making enquiries on my behalf. As soon as I have found something, I shall send word to you. Expect to hear from me as soon as tomorrow.”
“That soon?” she asked breathlessly.
“And then we shall speak of your future.”
For a diplomat, Papa could sometimes be…well, remarkably blunt, more of a dictator in his dealings with her. Why had Katrina not noticed that about him before?
“Of course,” she said sullenly.
“You are aware that it would give me great pleasure to see you married to Mr. Brown.” She nodded dully, unable to look at her father for fear of what he might detect in her expression. “He is a steady young man who is destined for an important role at the Foreign Office. You will be a perfect spouse for him since you know how to behave in such circles.”
“But will he make me happy, Papa?” Katrina found the courage to ask. “Or are you so concerned about the advancement of Mr. Brown’s career that you have not considered that question?”
Papa looked at her askance and a shadow passed through his eyes. It was as though he didn’t entirely believe what he had just said but hadn’t expected her to challenge it. How strange. “Don’t be impertinent, child. Brown admires you and will treat you with kindness. If you don’t expect more than that from matrimony then you will never be disappointed.”
“I understand that but—”
“You will reach your majority in a few weeks, Katrina, and after that you will be free to make your own decisions.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “Never doubt for a moment that you are the most important person in my life. The only person I have ever truly loved and I am indescribably proud of the young lady you have become.” Papa’s eyes were moist. Katrina had never seen him moved by emotion before, knew that he would disapprove of his own reaction, and was herself greatly moved by the sight. “I only want the very best for you. To see you disappointed would be the end of me. That is why I am trying to guide you to do the safest thing to secure your future but if you decide to ignore my advice I shall have to find a way to live with your decision.”
Tears flooded down Katrina’s face.
“Oh, Papa!”
She leapt from her chair and threw her arms around his neck. Of course he knew what was best for her. How could she have doubted it even for a moment? Papa was wise and good and honest and…well, she would die before she gave him cause to be disappointed in her. Naturally she would marry Mr. Brown, just to please him.
Only she would ever know that her heart broke at the prospect.
***
Nate had spent the entire day trying to decide whether or not to attend the Harrington ball. If he did, Katrina was bound to be there and he couldn’t decide whether it would be wise to see her again. He had avoided all the events she and Lady St. John were most likely to attend these past few nights for that precise reason. He could no longer deny, at least not to himself, that his interest in her was more than a transitory affair. In point of fact, she was in danger of stealing his heart. He couldn’t bear the thought of any other man laying so much as a finger on her, he recoiled at the prospect of her being united to Brown, and he knew he had been abrupt and short tempered with everyone he came into contact with since the night of the masquerade.
The prospect of matrimony no longer loomed like a life sentence but his difficulty was that Katrina adored her father and if Nate offered for her, he would be forcing her to choose between them. If she chose him then her father’s involvement in Davis’s death—if indeed he was involved in it, which was more certain than not—could well become public knowledge and destroy Heston. What right did Nate have to ruin her family when he wasn’t even sure if she returned his feelings?
He had absolutely no right.
And more to the point, she couldn’t know her own feelings unless she also knew the truth about her father’s history with the Brown family. And he could hardly tell her that without putting her in the impossible position of having to choose between her own happiness and destroying the father she adored.
What a fiasco!
Nate decided he had no option but to avoid the ball. The way he felt at that precise moment, the frustration and anger coursing through him meant he would most likely sweep Katrina off her feet, quite literally, the moment he laid eyes on her and march her off to the nearest parson. He poured himself a measure of whisky and downed it in one. His best, his only safe option, was to take himself off to White’s where he would be assured of convivial male company, and stay there for the entire evening.
On the point of doing precisely that, Faraday entered the room and offered Nate a letter balanced on a salver. “This was just delivered by hand, my lord.”
“Thank you, Faraday.”
The note was addressed in a feminine hand that Nate didn’t recognise. He broke the wafer and glanced at the signature. Frankie St. John…what the devil? Nate’s heart lurched. Something must have happened to Katrina. He could think of no other reason why that lady would have cause to write to him. He quickly scanned her note, only slightly mollified to discover that Heston’s return to English shores was the reason for it.
He plans to remove Katrina from my care as soon as tomorrow, he read. Although he was perfectly polite to me, it’s evident that he doesn’t consider me to be a good influence upon his precious daughter. Katrina pretends not to mind that she will soon be back in Guildford but I can see she is downhearted, whether at her removal from my care, the ton as a whole or at the prospect of marriage to Brown I cannot say. I thought you should know.
We do not go out tonight.
Yours etc.
His plans for White’s hastily abandoned, Nate set out to walk the short distance to Park Street. Lady St. John, insightful as she was, clearly understood Nate’s feelings. Whether she thought Katrina returned them was a matter for conjecture but she did intend Nate to visit her charge that evening. Why else would she tell him they would be at home? Nate was grateful to her since the fog of indecision had now cleared from his brain and he knew precisely what he intended to do. First and foremost he would face Katrina and get a clearer idea of her intentions, her feelings.
Then he would know how to act.