Norman’s head snapped toward him. “Absolutely not.”
Andrew raised a brow. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not going to start something she’s not ready for.”
“Oh? How do you know she’s not ready? Andrew asked mildly. “I’m merely suggesting… pleasure. For both of you.”
Norman exhaled sharply, rubbing his jaw. “You think I haven’t thought about it? Every time she snaps at me or glares like she’s about to murder me in my sleep—I think about it.”
He stopped himself.
Andrew arched a brow. “Then what’s stopping you?”
Norman stared into his glass. He downed the rest of his drink and stood. “If you’re the voice of reason in my life, I’m in more trouble than I thought.”
Kitty sat at her vanity, staring blankly at her reflection in the morning light. She’d been awake for hours, twisting the same curl around her finger until it frayed.
Jane entered quietly, setting down a tea tray with deliberate clatter. “You missed breakfast.”
“I wasn’t hungry,” Kitty murmured, though the truth sat heavy between them—she’d been hiding. Ever since that moment when his lips touched hers...
Jane studied her through the mirror. “His Grace asked after you twice.”
He did?
Kitty’s fingers stilled on the hairbrush. “How tedious of him.”
“Kitty.” Jane’s voice softened as she came to stand behind her, placing steady hands on her shoulders. “Did something happen?”
“Nothing worth mentioning,” she said too quickly, busying herself with selecting earrings. “He’s just—impossible. Arrogant.Infuriatingly proper one moment, then standing too close the next as if he owns the very air I breathe—” She cut herself off, horrified by the outburst.
Jane’s lips quirked. “How strange. You’ve described half the eligible bachelors in London, yet I’ve never seen you hide from them.”
Kitty’s reflection flushed pink. “I’m not hiding. I’m strategizing.” She turned abruptly, the lie tasting bitter. “The wedding is in ten days. If I’m to find a way out of this?—”
“Or,” Jane interrupted gently, “you could consider that a man who notices your absence might notice other things as well.”
Kitty stood abruptly, knocking over a perfume bottle. “You sound as romantic as Eleanor.”
“Heaven forbid,” Jane laughed, but her eyes were knowing. “I sound like a woman who’s watched you pretend not to care since you were sixteen and Lord Pembroke’s son made you laugh so hard you snorted lemonade.”
Kitty pressed her palms to her heated cheeks. “This is different. Norman isn’t some boy with a nice smile—he’s the reason I have to strategize at all!”
Jane smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from Kitty’s sleeve. “Or perhaps he’s the reason you’re reconsidering whether strategy is needed.”
The words hung between them, dangerous and tempting.
Kitty turned back to the mirror with renewed determination. “The blue dress, I think.” She met Jane’s gaze in the reflection. “And tell His Grace I’ll be down shortly—but only because I’m famished, not because he asked.”
Jane’s smile bloomed slow and secret as she reached for the gown. “Naturally.”
Kitty blew out a breath. There was no gainsaying Jane when she set her mind on something. Within the hour, she found herself dressed, her hair pinned with ruthless efficiency, and her protests ignored with the quiet determination of a seasoned general.
Kitty shrugged as Jane adjusted a final pin. “I’m five-and-twenty, not some sniffling Miss Fresh from the schoolroom.”
Jane stepped back to survey her work. “Then stop behaving like one.” She caught Kitty’s wrist before she could turn away. “What is this really about, Katherine?” The use of her full name made Kitty stiffen. “You’ve faced down Lady Mulberry’s barbs without flinching. Yet one breakfast with the duke has you hiding like a startled hare?”
Kitty tugged her hand free, moving to the window where sunlight dappled the garden below. Norman stood near the roses, speaking with Richard and Andrew. Even from this distance, the way he carried himself—all controlled power and effortless authority—made her throat tighten.
