CHAPTER4
TRUTH HELPS TO WARM A HEART
Katherine did her best to keep her head held up as Thomas regarded her with an expression that changed from shock to disbelief to horror and finally realization.
“Whyte’s whelp was mine?” he whispered.
“Isyours,” she stated, “and please don’t refer to him as a whelp. He’s a duke now.”
Thomas gave a start. “Jonathan? He’s reallymyson?” He swallowed. “Who... who else knows?”
Turning to be sure no servants were hovering near the door, Katherine said, “No one, of course. Not even my lady’s maid.”
Thomas shook his head. “Surely Whyte—”
“He did not,” she interrupted. “I didn’t even tell him I was with child until he mentioned I looked as if I was eating too many cakes at tea time. That was several months after we wed. And then, when I told him why my belly was rounding, he was so... sothrilled.” She said the last word in a quieter voice as her gaze turned on her mind’s eye. “That was the first time he ever told me he loved me.”
Wincing, Thomas remarked, “He always held a candle for you. Even when we were at university, he spoke of courting you. I think our betrothal hurt him.”
“Oh, I know it did,” she admitted. “I took advantage of it. When he paid a call two days after we were to marry, he proposed. I was desperate, and I hadn’t heard from you, so of course I accepted.” She sighed. “In doing so, I didn’t consider if it would hurt you or not because—”
“You hated me.”
“I didn’thateyou,” she countered. “But I was hurt and confused. I hadn’t heard from you—no one had—and being with child certainly didn’t help.”
Wincing, Thomas sat in silence for a moment. “I recall him crowing about getting a child on you. We were at Brooks’s,” he remarked. “I don’t think I was ever as angry as I was at that moment.”
Katherine gave a start. “You didn’t—?”
“I didn’t say a word. I didn’t even throw a punch,” he said as he shook his head.
“But you hated me,” she guessed, not making it a question.
He shook his head. “No. I hated the frogs for deciding to stage a revolt at the worst possible time in my career as a spy,” he muttered. “And I hated Chamberlain for sending me.”
Katherine swallowed as she stared at him. “Why did you go? Couldn’t you have... begged off? Surely Chamberlain knew you were to marry...” She broke off, her mouth rounding in an ‘o.’
“What is it?” he asked, leaning forward in his chair.
“Chamberlain knew,” she murmured. “I know Mother had an invitation delivered to Fitzsimmons Manor—she was friends with his wife, Caroline—and yet he sent you to France anyway,” she whispered. Her face took on a look of anger. “For a reason.”
Thomas straightened. “What are you talking about?”
She inhaled softly. “Spite. My father and Chamberlain did not get along. Not in the least.”
“I do recall there was a bit of frost there,” Thomas agreed.
“Father always voted against funding the Foreign Office. He was an opponent of the merger of the Northern and Southern Departments. Talked about it at every dinner party he hosted. He did not like change,” she stated on a sigh. “So Chamberlain deprived me of you to embarrass my father.”
Thomas dipped his head. “And didn’t consider what it would do to us,” he whispered.
She winced but nodded. “I take it you no longer work for the Foreign Office?” she asked. “I hear the pay is terrible.”
“Pay?” he repeated, scoffing. “What pay?” Rolling his eyes, he leaned back and closed his eyes. “I left the service when Father died. Probably should have well before then. Took me months to learn how to be a duke,” he explained. “Thank the gods he had a decent man of business and a couple of good foremen overseeing the farms, or I fear the dukedom would have gone back to the Crown.”
“And now?” she prompted.
He gave a start. “I admit I liked the position. I liked having influence—”
