Instead, she kept riding.
They rode for two more hours. They checked every posting house along the way for word of a young couple matching Winderton’s and Jess’s descriptions.
Kate didn’t engage Brandon in conversation. She’d said her piece. In truth, she was heartbroken.
Years ago, he had broken her heart because of her mistaken belief that he had been in league with Hemling. Now, he’d done it all on his own.
There had been nothing kind or loving in his accusations. He’d wanted to hurt her, and he had.
Offering her everything he owned? Why, he’d kept it a secret from her. He’d probably feared that if he told her his wealth she would have schemed to take it from him.
And it was bitterly disappointing to discover that he wasn’t the noble man she had imagined. He was like all the rest—only happy if he kept her in her place.
No, she reminded herself, notallmen were that way. Her sisters’ husbands weren’t. Her brother acted as if his wife was the sun in his life. When he wrote about her, the words he used to describe her glowed with his love for her.
Kate wanted what they had. She wanted a man who didn’t wish to possess her as if she was something to be owned. She wanted someone whom she could trust. She’d been convinced Brandon was such a man... until his fit of spite and jealousy.
Her sister Alice would tell her to be thankful that she learned this now about him instead of later, but Kate could not feel gratitude. Because of Brandon, she had started to believe there was someone in the world who loved her for her intelligence, her creative spirit, and her unique gifts. Someone who would encourage her in her ambitions as well, who didn’t see her as “dear” Kate—too bold, too brash, too independent.
There was no sin in trusting, she told herself, only in not heeding warning signs when they raised their vicious dragon heads—and yet, she’d thought Brandon was the one person who saw her clearly and accepted her for how she was, not how he would remake her. She’d believed that the designs he’d given her of the set pieces had been his blessing on her dreams.
She was proud of herself for not breaking down in tears now. She kept her head high and focused on the business at hand, just as she always did.
Finally, when she feared she could not remain stoic in his presence a moment longer, they stopped at a wayside inn called The Traveler’s Rest.
“We should eat something,” he said. “And the horses could use a rest.”
He was right. She answered with a tired nod. The swirl of her emotions was draining. Seeing that he had dismounted and was coming around to help her, she kicked her foot from the stirrup and slid down. She handed her reins to the stable lad who had come out to greet them.
Brandon was not pleased that she didn’t wait. His jaw hardened as if he was swallowing a comment. When he spoke, it was to tell the lad to rub down the horses and give them grain. He offered him several coins for his trouble.
Kate lifted the hem of her riding habit and headed for the inn’s front door. Brandon’s long legs caught up with her. She braced herself, ready for his chiding about her going off without him.
He surprised her by not speaking.
And that annoyed her as well. In truth, Kate didn’t know what she wanted except to find some time to think—
The inn’s front door flew open, and, to both Kate and Brandon’s surprise, Jess came storming out.
Chapter Eighteen
Jess’s face could have been a picture of feminine pouting—until she realized who stood before her.
She raised her hand to the loose blonde hair around her shoulders. “Kate—I, uh...”
“Yes, youwhat?” Kate said, drawing out the last word. “You are surprised to see me?” She had to laugh. “Did you truly believe you could elope with a duke and everyone would say, ‘please go on, good for you,’ and not try to find you?”
Jess shot a look behind her before announcing, “Well, we are not going to elope, I can tell you that. He’s the most boring man I have ever met. He doesn’t do anything but drink.”
“Where is he?” Brandon asked.
“In the taproom,” Jess answered as if it should be obvious.
Bran passed her to go inside. Kate took Jess’s arm and brought her outside, allowing the door to shut.
“Well.” Kate let the single word linger in the air. “You appear to be fine. Not a mark on you. Did the duke do anything wicked?” Kate had to reassure herself.
“How I wish he had. I’ll be honest with you, I tried to rouse something in him.” Jess spoke as if they were confidantes, cohorts in seduction. “I’ve never had to work so hard in my life for so little. He was too busy playing the mooncalf about you. I don’t know how you tolerate him.”
