Emily gently squeezed her hand again. ‘I would never force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Heaven knows how miserable I was, standing on the edge of ballrooms in all the years I was searching for a husband. I would not wish that peculiar sense of dreadful unease on anyone.’ She patted Kate’s hand before returning to her breakfast. ‘How about we take it one step at a time? Finding the perfect outfit that fits you like adream will be fun and you and I need to attend the dressmaker’s anyway. You could do with some more day dresses for receiving callers. Then, Freddie and I can teach you how to dance. If, at the end of it all, you still do not want to go to Lady Albrighton’s ball, then we will not go.’
Kate bit her lip. ‘But you will have invested so much effort by that time, I will feel awful if I let you down.’
‘Honestly, Kate, I was a disaster in the ballroom. I did not know what to say and my limbs are so long and gangly, I was always tripping myself up when I walked about. I always felt people were talking about me and that they were not saying kind things either but wondering why I was still a spinster after four seasons. I spent most of my time hiding behind plants.’
Kate waited for her friend to say more but Emily took a bite of toast instead.
‘Was your speech meant to be inspiring?’
Emily waved her hand dismissively. Swallowing her food, she said, ‘No. Balls can be hideous. I understand that more than most. I told you my story to show you how nothing you could do would let me down.’
‘You really hid behind a plant pot?’
‘Pots, as in more than one. I was very awkward. Iamvery awkward, but I think a ball might be better for having you there.’
Kate’s heart squeezed at the sweet admission; the countess, not seeming to realise the compliment she had just given, continued to eat her breakfast. Lovely though the sentiment was, Kate did not see how her presence would change her new friend’s evening. ‘I am afraid I do not think my being there will improve anything.’
‘No. I suppose you do not.’ Emily put her knife and fork down. ‘You are a lot of fun, Kate. Having you come to live at GlanmoreHouse has been a pleasure I did not realise I needed.’ She smiled softly, glancing at her husband, who winked back at her, a thousand private words exchanged in a simple gesture.
‘That is really very…’ Words failed her. Kate had never had a friend outside of Simon. Life had not allowed for one. If someone had told her she would find that person in a countess, one who was in line to become a duchess, albeit tenuously, she would not have believed it. And yet here she was; life had led her to this point and she could either hide in her empty rooms or experience every moment to the full. In a way, she would be defying Chorley, becoming everything he had tried to destroy in her. If Emily wanted her to go to a ball, then she would. She stabbed the remainder of her bacon. ‘I think I should like to go shopping for a ball gown. I have not owned one before.’ And she could sell it when all this was a distant memory. She had yet to touch the pin money the duke had been giving her and she could probably afford one dress out of it. Although, she had no idea how much one would cost. It need not be a waste; she need not feel guilt. ‘And learning to dance would be a useful skill.’ One she would probably never get to use again, but it might become a lovely memory. She might even meet a man who would take her mind off Edward and his strong, competent hands—one better suited to her station in life.
‘Let us hope you are better at dancing than you are playing the piano,’ said Emily, clearly fighting a smile as she resumed her breakfast.
‘I thought you were asleep.’ The urge to look at Edward, to see if he was listening to their conversation, to see if he was about to add something, was so strong, her whole body ached with the strain of not looking.
‘The way your fingers managed to make even the most beautiful instrument appear like an elephant had escaped from amenagerie and landed on the keys was quite exceptional. It kept me on the edge of wakefulness despite my exhaustion.’
‘You are very rude.’
Her friend laughed and Kate risked a peek at Edward. He was watching them both, a faint smile on his lips, but when he caught her looking, he turned away.
Chapter Thirteen
Edward was a coward.
Not, he liked to think, when facing a man in a boxing ring or even in a real fight if such a thing were unavoidable. In those instances, his mind stilled, his inner demons disappearing. He was able to think with a calm rationality, to assess his opponent with a detached curiosity, seeking out weak points in order to win. At his fencing club, he was the man to beat. But lurking around his own home, dithering over what was the best way to proceed, he knew that, when it came to Katherine Hornel, he was a craven fool.
It wasn’t because he didn’t want to see her; it was quite the opposite, in fact. His body ached with the effort ofnotsearching her out. Every day he came up with a thousand reasons to find her to engage with her, to get those blue eyes to spark at him, and he always put them to one side. He only had to remember the way she pointedly did not look at him whenever they were in the same room to remind himself of all the reasons not to seek her out. If she wanted his company, she would look at him for more than a few brief moments.
He had thought they were getting on well when they had played the pianoforte before; the way she had gazed at him as if she was impressed with his playing had puffed him up like a proud peacock. He’d strutted around the house like a prize coxcomb for the rest of the day. But she had hardly looked at him at breakfast the next day and the next after that, until four days had gone by and the only conclusion he could come to was that he had somehow revealed his interest in her, the desire he was trying to hide even from himself.
In the early hours of the morning, he would torture himself with the idea she had somehow picked up on the fact he found her beautiful and was embarrassed by his unwanted attention. The idea would make his soul curl in shame and sleep would become impossible. Miss Dunn’s unpleasantness stemmed from taking advantage of those under her protection, although not sexually; thankfully, she was not that awful, but it had been enough for him to know heneverwanted to make anyone feel helpless like he had, the incident with Bridget only compounding his beliefs. He had also promised himself he would not be one ofthosemen, the type who took advantage of the women under their protection. She would not know that thoughts of her took up all his waking moments, and sometimes his dreams, too, if he was lucky enough to have them.
Sitting next to her on the tiny pianoforte stool had been a mistake. He’d known as soon as he had lowered himself onto it. Her scent had surrounded him, overwhelming all of his senses, making it impossible for him to concentrate on the notes. Then he’d completely lost his mind and he’d touched her, moving her fingers over the keys, his mouth forming words, while his brain told him she washis, that he had to do something to make her realise she belonged with him.
Thank goodness she had seemed unaffected. If she had given him even the barest of encouragement, he would have lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her for everything he was worth.
Now, he had a real reason to go and see her and he was overthinking it to the point he was starting to irritate himself. He’d discussed Kate’s thoughts on Charlotte’s speech with his brothers. Tobias had gone deathly white, the first time Edward had seen real emotion on his brother’s normally stoic features. All three of them had immediately agreed it would be a good idea for Kate to talk to Charlotte to see if her suspicions were correct. She was the only adult out of all of them who had any experience dealing with young children. If there was a problem with Charlotte’s speech, then Edward knew he, and his brothers, would move heaven and earth to find a solution. And, if there wasn’t one, they would love her with everything they had anyway.
All Edward had to do was to ask Kate if she would mind sparing the time to do it.
Right now, he knew she was in the Blue Lounge, knew because he’d asked one of the servants to find him when she went there next. It had been an act of self-preservation. If he knocked on the door to her suite of rooms, he would lose what little capability he had to talk to her normally. It was bad enough now, not knowing the layout of the rooms, but once he did, he would have an accurate image, and this would be far worse for his peace of mind. He’d be able to picture her there all the time, to imagine her sitting at her window, perhaps reading, and all the ways he could entice her to stop; a very bad idea by all accounts.
He paused outside the lounge door, flexing his fingers like he was warming them up for a boxing match. This was becoming ridiculous. He was a grown man, damn it. He had spoken tomany women before. He wasn’t a green boy who would blush and stammer his way through a conversation.
He grasped the handle and swung the door open, making a loud noise as if he did not know Kate was in the room. That was a mistake.
Kate startled, leaping up from her seat and throwing the cup of tea she had been holding over the table in front of her.
