She blew out a breath, her free hand curling into a fist. If this was his London mistress…
“Most people?” she asked carefully.
“Charlotte, Harlot—what’s the difference?”
Despite her distress, she laughed, thinking there were very few women present who didn’t deserve such a designation. “And what, pray tell, could this Lady Harlot have done to earn such a title at King Charles’s court?”
“She slept with the Earl of Danforth.”
“From what I understand, so have half the women here.”
He raised a brow. “Not while they were betrothed to me.”
“Oh.” Dear heavens, not a mistress, but the woman from Trick’s poem. The reason Kendra had yet to hear a declaration of love from her husband’s lips and despaired that she ever would.
Following his unfocused gaze, she glared at the simpering blonde across the room. Harlot. “I hate her.”
“Aye. It was clear enough that despite her protests of love, it was my title she wanted, not me. Of course, I mightn’t have been quite so upset had she not refused more than a kiss from me by claiming herself a virgin. And had I not found them together in said virginal bed.”
In which case Kendra wouldn’t have had an uphill battle to gain her husband’s trust. Of course, if he’d married the harlot, Trick wouldn’t be her husband. But that was beside the point.
No, that was the point entirely…he was her husband, not the harlot’s. And although not long ago she’d never have believed it, she was very happy about that.
Courtiers were gathering around the dance floor, a rainbow of brilliant colors in the blazing light. Jewels glittered on ears, necks, wrists, and hands of men and women alike.
Kendra couldn’t help but notice that most everyone wore pearls. With a secret smile, she fingered her amber bracelet. Who needed pearls, anyway? Looking down to her hands, she noticed the plain gold band around her finger. So very Trick. She should have realized from the first that he wouldn’t be the type of duke she detested.
And she’d found she didn’t so much mind being a duchess, either. Together in those roles, they could do much good. Whether it was fair or not, people listened to what dukes and duchesses had to say. With whispers in the right ears, they could raise enough money to open a hundred orphanages if they wanted.
And he wouldn’t have to play the highwayman anymore. In fact, before they got to Amberley, she’d demand he stop. Now.
His attention still across the room, she sneaked a glance at her husband. His golden good looks set her heart to racing, and she knew that she couldn’t stand to even think of the possibility that he might be hurt or—God forbid—arrested. She would find some way to keep the children fed and clothed until she could put her new plan into motion.
At the far end of the chamber, musicians were tuning up, and King Charles was leading Queen Catharine through the crowd to begin the dancing.
“Shall we dance?” Kendra asked Trick.
Tearing his gaze from the harlot, he looked down at her. “Am I not supposed to do the asking?” He smiled. “Oh dear, I nearly forgot. You’re a duchess now and can do as you please.”
Laughing, she turned into her husband’s arms and let herself be led to the dance floor, where a minuet was playing.
He bowed to her, then did a small plié in a mirror of her own move. “Do you realize we’ve never danced?” he said conversationally.
She stepped forward with her right foot, rising on her toes. “I danced with your brother, you know.”
“Did you? When?” They both brought their feet together, lowering their heels. “Should I be worried?” Trick asked with a mock-stern frown. “Remember what I told you about fidelity.”
Though she was sure he didn’t intend it, his gaze went to Lady Harlot, who seemed to be pointedly ignoring him.
She repeated the steps with her left foot, her own gaze going to King Charles. “Remember whatItoldyouabout fidelity.”
His laugh made her feel a lot better. He dropped her hands so they could both turn. “Niall and I danced at thedraidgie,” she said coquettishly over her shoulder. “While you were outside writing.” His hands felt warm when he reached for hers again. “It was a wild dance, I tell you—we weren’t able to talk like this.”
“Ah, yes, a Scottish country dance.”
“Did someone mention Scottish?”
“Caithren!” Surprised, Kendra turned and threw her arms around her sister-in-law. “What are you doing here?”
