“What is it?” Kate asked filled with dread.
“Was that Southmore I spied?”
“Oh?” she asked her heart pounding. “Where?”
“Over there in the purple domino. The very tall gentleman.” He scowled at her. “There are very few men in London as tall as Southmore.”
She tugged at his sleeve. “I’ve no idea. Do let’s go.”
He led her at such a fast walk toward the line of waiting carriages she scarcely kept up with him. Why hadn’t she remembered that about Southmore? He was exceptionally tall.
When they settled in the carriage, Robert’s cool gaze roamed over her. “You’ve torn your gown.”
“Yes, I stumbled and caught my heel.”
He cocked a brow. “I’ve never known you to be clumsy. Are you attempting to entertain me with a Banbury story?”
Kate lost her temper. She’d had all she could take this evening. “Yes. It is a story, my lord. I made a mistake and fell into bad company if you must know. A drunken man tried to force me to join him in a drink and I tore my gown.”
“Not very well done, Kate.”
The attempt to hold the torn edges of her gown together was futile and she gave up. “No, it wasn’t. I quite agree with you. People do make mistakes. I make mistakes.”
A long pause followed with only the clip-clop of the horses echoing through the empty streets. Mist hovered over the river and formed a halo of light around the gas lamps. She waited in the faint hope Robert would admit he made mistakes, too. If he did, they might laugh and forgive one another.
“You aren’t hurt?” he asked.
“No. Just my pride.”
“Who was the drunk who tore your gown?”
“I shan’t tell you. I expect it’s more important to fight a duel in my honor than to discuss exactly what needs to be said between us.”
In the half-light of the carriage lamp he reddened and shifted in his seat. “Don’t be so dramatic. I hadn’t a duel in mind.”
“Now who isn’t telling the truth?”
The carriage drew up outside the house and they entered and ascended the stairs in icy silence. At her bedchamber door, Kate turned to him. She hated to leave him like this and made a last attempt to at least have good manners restored between them. “You found your trip successful?”
“Yes, it went well.”
She hesitated, her hand on the latch. “I’m glad, Robert.”
“Kate…”
He bent his head toward her and she stilled. Her body tensed with longing. Would he kiss her?
Robert straightened. “Your lip appears to be bleeding,” he said softly.
“The man tried to kiss me. When I pushed him away, he fell over a chair and I escaped,” she said in a rush. “I was on my way home when I met you.”
“Tell me the man’s name, Kate. Was it Southmore?”
Her throat tightened. “The man who tore my gown was a stranger to me.” There was an element of truth to it. Southmore had behaved strangely and most unlike a gentleman.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Now why is that?” She trembled under his fierce scrutiny, ashamed that he knew she lied. But she couldn’t risk telling him. Southmore would keep his promise and shoot Robert. Even if Robert walked away from the duel unscathed, the consequences would be too awful to contemplate.
