She half snorted, tucking the card back into the arrangement in front of her without having read it. Pleasant and nice did not come close to describing what had transpired in the music room; wild and passionate didn’t quite convey it either.
‘Those are not to your liking?’ Edward’s voice sounded just over her shoulder. Busy, as she had been thinking about him, she had not realised he had approached.
‘What do you…?’
He nodded at the card she had just returned. ‘You did not look pleased with Rupert Williams’ offering.’
For a moment, she studied his face. He looked the same as always; there was no narrowing of his eyes, no clenched jaw to suggest he was jealous of the attention. There was no way she was going to confess what she’d been thinking, not when he looked singularly unbothered by the blatant sign of other men interested in courting her. And why should he? It had been she who had initiated the kiss, not him. He had obviously enjoyed it, she did not think he was that good an actor, but he would probably have been the same with any woman.
There had been the beautiful woman with whom he had danced at the ball. Her stomach had twisted uncomfortably as she’d watched them twirl around the ballroom. They’d moved together with an easy familiarity in their smiles that only camewith knowing someone well. Edward had become good at kissing from somewhere; it was plausible he had with that woman.
‘Have you sent anyone flowers this morning?’ she blurted out, wishing she could cram the words back in as soon as she had said them. It was none of her concern and asking sounded petulant and jealous and she’d rather he didn’t realise she felt both of those things.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you asking me if I am courting someone and kissing you in the same morning?’
Kate glanced across the wide hallway; Freddie and Emily were having a deeply animated conversation about the contents of one of the cards. Sutton was nowhere to be seen. ‘You did not initiate the kiss. I asked you to do that as a favour.’
His lips parted, a soft huff of air escaping as if he could not believe what he was hearing. ‘Do you really think so little of me, you believe I would agree to do that with you while interested in another woman?’
‘I am sorry,’ she said, her voice thick, embarrassed tears forming. She had no right to her envious feelings and even less right to take out her frustration on Edward, who had done nothing wrong. ‘I have heard rumours of how men of the Ton behave and I…’
‘You think we are all the same.’ His face was shuttered and she could not tell what he was thinking.
‘Of course I do not think you are the same as, say… Chorley. But I did not want to assume just because we… that because you were kind enough to indulge me this morning that you were not…’
His face gave nothing away during her mangled apology, which didn’t contain the word sorry and therefore probably did not count.
‘I am sorry,’ she said eventually. ‘I have made you uncomfortable and I…’
‘You have not. I am sorry too. I keep forgetting you are not familiar with us.’
Did he mean with the Dashworths or with the Ton in general? Both were true to a certain extent. Existing on the fringes of Society for a long time, she had never belonged in their ranks, she still didn’t, even if she and the Dashworths were pretending she did. From the sidelines she had seen many husbands misbehave and wives too. Servants always saw more than their employers would ever appreciate and her years as a governess had not given her the best view of the members of Society. But she believed Edward to be honourable; everything he had said and done in the time she had known him had shown that to be the truth. If she told him all this, if she admitted it was not the Ton she was judging but the ugly side of jealousy making her ask such a ridiculous question, then she would reveal too much of herself, would make herself vulnerable in a world where she was already at a disadvantage. So she held her tongue, even when it might have been better to apologise again.
‘You have made quite an impression, it would seem.’ He nodded at the flowers around her, not answering her question and leaving her squirming with unresolved tension. The effort not to fidget was almost overwhelming.
‘I am sure they will not be as keen when they realise I am a vicar’s daughter with no connections,’ she managed to say.
‘You are connected to us.’
There was no response to that either. Either it was a breathtakingly arrogant, but probably justified, comment about the Glanmore name or it was a kindly reminder she was not alone.
‘I cannot imagine what it must be like to receive all of this.’ He gestured around to the flowers surrounding them. ‘How do you feel about it?’
‘Truthfully, a little disassociated. It does not feel like it can be for me.’ She stroked the soft petal of a rose with her forefinger. ‘Do you know how much the duke has offered for the dowry?’
Edward named a sum of money so vast it made her stomach drop. It was an absurd amount, which could be used for something far worthier than to get her married off.
‘Are you sure?’
Edward nodded gravely. ‘Yes.’
‘No wonder I am so popular.’
‘Do not do yourself a disservice. Some of these might be fortune-hunters, but we will be able to sort those from the others.’ There was a strange stabbing sensation in her chest at his words. She did not want to sit or stand with Edward and go through which of these men were after her for herself and which were those who may want access to the Dashworth money.
Mumbling something she hoped sounded like a thank you, she began to walk away.
‘Kate,’ he said quietly. He moved, leaning close so when he spoke his breath whispered against her neck. ‘There is no one to whom I would like to send flowers.’ He moved to step away, then paused. ‘Well, perhaps there is one lady.’ He winked at her before striding away. She didn’t realise how wide she was smiling, until she caught sight of herself in the highly polished metal banister. Even then, it was difficult to get her expression into a normal position in order to face Emily again.
