Chapter Eleven
When Kate arrivedhome, she ran upstairs to her bedchamber carrying her parcel. Alone in the room, she held her new purchase up against herself with a shiver of anticipation. She tucked it away where Brigitte would not find it. It wouldn’t do to have the maid nodding approval and comparing her with some duke’s mistress. Even though Kate had decided to act like one.
That evening, when Robert entered the salon before dinner, there was a small bruise and a cut on his cheekbone.
She moved closer to inspect it. “What happened?”
Robert touched the wound tentatively as if he’d forgotten about it. “I connected with a branch while riding in the park.” He held out his arm. “Shall we dine?”
“In Hyde Park?” She looked at him doubtfully as they walked to the dining room, knowing what a fine rider he was. “You should be more careful. Have you had it attended to?”
“It’s just a scratch.”
“You can’t be too careful—”
“Please don’t fuss, Charity,” Robert said as they entered the dining room. “I don’t need my wife to turn into a mother.”
The footman seated Kate, then slipped from the room.
Kate settled herself, tucking her skirts around her. “I have no wish to be. For you won’t allow your mother into your life.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
She swallowed, almost losing her nerve when she met his cool blue eyes. “Only that it should occur to you that an older and wiser woman is an asset to any family.”
“I’ve got on quite well without my mother advising me. I am hardly in leading strings.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I dislike this conversation. Might we change it? I wish to tell you that I have an engagement later this evening.”
“Where?” Suspicious, Kate frowned, as hot jealousy coursed through her. Her desire to make peace with him evaporated.
He raised an eyebrow. “Something I promised a friend. Not something I desire to do.”
“You treat yourfriendsbetter than your wife, my lord.”
He sighed. “You are yet to learn the way we live here in London, Kate.”
“Perhaps I don’t wish to learn it,” she said heatedly. “Particularly if I must become cruel and careless of people’s feelings!” She was failing badly in her effort to be seductive. Maybe it went against her nature.
Robert’s expression silenced her as Hove entered to decant the wine.
The footman brought in the shellfish soup filling the air with fragrant steam. Aware she was making things a good deal worse, she picked up her spoon. There would be time enough later. His mother’s words still rang in her ears. She disliked being manipulative. It might work to bring them together, so she was willing to try. But she had to admit that her confidence of achieving success had reached its lowest ebb.
*
At nine ofthe clock, Robert left the house with a shrug of frustration. Kate found so many of the conventions of thetonto be false, and through her eyes, forced him to see it, too. Not something to dwell on now, however, and he pushed the thought away. He lit a cheroot and attempted to ease his tense shoulders as the landau negotiated the London streets. His attempts failed because Kate’s disappointed face kept appearing in his mind’s eye. He was still as tense as a violin string after the carriage deposited him outside Anastasia’s building and he climbed the stairs to her apartment.
As usual, the pleasure gardens were rowdy, and the performers lacked inspiration and talent. And Anastasia was particularly annoying.
“We have not made love since you married,” she fired at him when they returned to her rooms when he’d again resisted an invitation to her bed. “I believe you are in love with your wife.”
“You think so?” His cool look was meant to silence her.
That failed also, for Anastasia wasn’t about to let the matter go. “I am not allowed to speak her name. If you’re so fond of her, why are you here?”
“Why indeed?” Robert replied, as his unruly thoughts turned to Kate at home alone. “If a man must answer to his mistress as he does his wife, their association should end.”
