When I touch his cheek, he tenses. “Easy.”
I flick the little hairs of shadow along his chin. “You need a shave. A mistress should do that for you.”
Then I try to be sultry. I lower myself and kiss him.
The man startles. His embrace is weak, but his arms do circle me. For one moment, he kisses me back; then he gently pushes me away. “A goodbye kiss. Katia. Good. Bye.”
His wrist rotates, flicking his hand toward the door like I’m a peasant. “Go with God and know that we’ve parted this time at peace.”
“Parted? But what of us? Of Lydia.”
“We are nothing. My child is safe.”
“Jahleel. Lydia? I love her. You took her—”
“She’ll be protected when I die. And she has the truth, my means, and a respectable birth. Katia, we are free of each other. I wish you well. My daughter who shares my illness will be fine with someone hired to service our difficulties.”
I’m horrified. “You can’t think I hate you because you’re sick? You think I hate Lydia—”
“Go.” The wrist, the hand, the pointing fingers. “Go, Lady Hampton.”
I start to leave but stop at the door. “I’ve been so blind to how I’ve hurt you.”
“Yes, prejudiced against a man who’d move mountains for you. I just needed time to settle old scores.”
“How long? With this sickness, you never know how long.” I bite my lip. I should’ve quieted. Now I just hear my selfish heart.
“Just leave, Katherine.”
No measure of memories or well wishes can fix this. I step out of this room. The door thuds as it closes. I’m heartbroken. Jahleel might die and he’ll forever think I’m beneath him, nothing more than a cold and calculating shrew.
Chapter 11
KATHERINE—A WRONGWRONGEDWOMAN
For a few seconds, I debate returning to Jahleel. Outside his door, I slip down the wall, sobbing and clutching my knees. There’s nothing I can ever do to make things right … not if he dies.
“Katherine?” Swinging an apron, Scarlett sees me and rushes to my side. “Are you alright? Is the duke alive? I fell asleep. Then I went to the kitchen. I—”
“I’m fine. He lives. He sent me away. He doesn’t want me to be his mistress. He doesn’t believe I care.”
She sighs and helps me up. The absence of her trying to convince me otherwise is damning.
“You think me evil, too, Scarlett?”
More silence.
“Scarlett, I’m in the wrong. I refused to see Jahleel as anything but a villain. That was the only way to justify abandoning our marriage.”
“You mean justifying your abandoninghim. Guess some British don’t believe in the words ‘in sickness and health’ or ‘till death do we part’? Guess the Cossacks don’t either.”
Embarrassed at her frankness, I turn back to the bedchamber.“Guess he’s told you everything. Did he mention any of my care? I did care for him in the dacha. I even bathed him.”
“He’s said some things in confidence, but the fever has made him very talkative.” She bites her lip for a moment. “The duke really likes your feet.”
Oh, goodness. That’s what he remembers of our wedding trip? I mean it was passion and motion and kisses in unexpected. …
My face must be an inferno. “We were in love.”
