She organized for the next day and joined her troupe for a meal she barely tasted. Her mind was on other things—
No, her mind was onone man.
Others conspired against us.You spoiled me for other women.She wanted to forget his words, and could not.
Feeling a stranger in her own life, Kate went to her tent early. She lay in the dark thinking until Mary and Jess came to bed. Only then did she manage to sleep an hour or two.
Her dreams woke her. She was surprised she was on her cot. Her dream had been very real. In it, she’d been back in Brandon’s tiny room—a student’s quarters. There had been the table and the chair, the bookshelves, and even the dingy curtains. In her dream, she’d wanted to be in the bed but the sheets seemed glued together. She couldn’t pull them down no matter how hard she tried.He was coming, she told herself. She wanted to be in his bed before he arrived, and yet, she was afraid for him to find her there. She could even hear him outside the door just before she woke with a start—
Kate lay in her cot, her heart pounding. She understood the dream. There was so much left unresolved between herself and Brandon. She’d find no peace until she came to terms with whatever it was churning inside her.
Kate had learned to go after what she wanted. She had discipline and was willing to sacrifice what she must to see her way clear. She also did as she wished and what she wanted right now was to see Brandon. Until she did, she would have no rest.
Others conspired against us.You spoiled me for other women.She needed to hear him say those words again.
Mary and Jess were sleeping deeply when she rose from her cot. Kate put on the dress she had worn that day and covered it with a cloak. Her hair was in a loose braid and she didn’t bother to pin it up or to put on a bonnet.
She left the tent. The embers of the fire were dying. The snoring from the men’s tent could have woken the dead. No one was roaming around. She wasn’t certain where the Dower House was, but she had an idea. After all, they’d already spent the good part of a week on the Winderton estate.
What moonlight there was lit her way and the paths were well marked. She knew where the main house was. Without too much trouble, Kate came upon a broad lawn around a whitewashed, two-story, brick manor house. It had a domed roof and a broad portico.
The main house had a torch burning by the front door all night according to the duke.
Not so here. No light shone from its windows. She could almost imagine that the place was abandoned.
She also didn’t feel comfortable going to the front door. A servant could be posted there and she definitely didn’t wish to be seen—and that was the gist of it, wasn’t it? Kate’s parents had been poor but genteel. She knew what was expected of a lady, even though she broke the rules at will when they didn’t serve her purpose. That attitude was what her mother had feared, what had disappointed her.
Kate walked around to the back, her feet sinking into the thick grass. All was dark here, too.
Surveying the back of the house, she wondered which window might lead her to Bran. How had he woken her that night? Had it been just the force of his presence? Could she do the same?
Kate focused on the house and closed her eyes. She summoned all that was in her and reached out to him. If it didn’t work, she’d have to knock on a door—
“What are you doing here?”
At the sound of his quiet voice, she popped open her eyes, except the sound had not come from the house. No, it came from behind where she stood.
She whirled around.
Brandon was several feet away from her. He walked toward her until he was almost as close as they had been earlier that afternoon by the wagon.
He held his hands out as if he could not believe she was here. “Kate?”
Suddenly, the past did not matter.
There was only here and now. This moment.
“I’m tired of being alone. So tired.” And then she cupped his face in her hands, his whiskers rough beneath her palms, and kissed him.
Chapter Twelve
Kate was kissing him.
Brandon had never realized what a kiss could communicate.
There was anger in her kiss—and disappointment, resentment... and a sweet, sweet plea for him to understand. For him to be here for her.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into the haven of his body. He didn’t hold her as close as he wanted. He would crush her to him if he could. His every base impulse had already come to life. He wanted to take her to the ground, to bury himself in her—and he knew that would be wrong.
