Page 42 of Kathryn

“Repack everything in the new luggage.”

Her old friend’s jaw sagged. “But—”

“Just do it,” Katie said wearily, standing up and turning away from the mirror and facing Becky. “And if this—what was the valet’s name again?”

“Court.”

“If Court gives you any other suggestions when it comes to insignificant organizational matters either immediately comply or, if you absolutely find that you cannot do so, bring the issue to me and I will tell you what to do. This marriage is—” She broke off, having no earthly idea how to complete that sentence.

To her relief, Becky seemed to understand and gave Katie an uncertain smile. “I understand. I will do as you ask, Your Grace.”

Katie stood still as Becky placed one of her new lace-trimmed sleeping caps on her head and tied it in a bow beneath her chin. “There,” Becky said, nervously twitching the lace before meeting Katie’s gaze. “You look lovely.”

She squeezed Becky’s hand to make sure she knew that Katie was not angry. At least not at her. “Thank you. I shan’t need you again tonight.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” Becky’s flushed cheeks told Katie that her maid’s thoughts were also on Katie’s night ahead and she hastened from the room.

Katie had just kicked off her slippers and was preparing to remove her dressing gown when there was a light tap on the door.

“Yes?”

The door opened and one of the housemaids peeped inside. “I beg your pardon, Your Grace. But His Grace wished you to know he was in the library.”

“Er, thank you—what is your name?”

“I’m Polly, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Polly.”

The girl curtsied and closed the door.

What was that all about? Had she broken one of his many rules by coming to bed? What would they do in the library if she went? Bicker, most likely. Or Dulverton would hurl orders and Katie would be expected to jump to obey them.

No thank you. She’d had enough of that already.

Katie changed her mind about getting into bed and pulled her dressing gown tightly around her and slumped into a chair, closing her eyes.

The door to the room in her mind where she’d long ago locked up memories of her month with Jasper suddenly sprang open and the past came pouring out. She had been so vigilant at blocking him from her thoughts, but her defenses had been worn down, not just by the day’s events, but by her pointless, rudderless life these last five years.

The last memory to escape its cell was the worst of the lot. Like a leviathan it had lurked in the murky recesses of her mind, biding its time, and waiting to strike.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut until she saw stars. No. She could not—would not—remember that day. Not tonight of all nights. Instead, her thoughts moved to the first time they’d been together. Well, it had been her first time, not Jasper’s of course. The act itself had hurt, but Jasper had held her and kissed her and promised her the next time he would show her how pleasurable it could be.

And there had been a next time. And it had been better. Although in truth she had not really understood what all the fuss was about. But Katie had loved the too brief time afterward far more than the hurried, sweaty couplings. Jasper held her and soothed her and together they’d made plans for their future. He promised they would marry as soon as he spoke to Katie’s father. Jasper was older than her by twelve years and had already traveled the great cities of Europe, but he told her they would take a bridal journey to the Continent.

“I cannot wait to see all those cities and wonderful sights through your eyes, my darling,” he had told her more than once.

The last time they’d lain together, he’d told her that his grandmother, the Countess of Grimsby had summoned him. Lady Grimsby had long intimated that she would leave the bulk of her vast personal estate to Jasper when she died, and he was eager to keep her good opinion. He promised Katie he would be gone no longer than a week—ten days at most.

“I would have needed to tell her about you before we could marry. She is a very old lady and extremely sensitive to perceived snubs so this could not come at a better time. When I return, I will tell my father of our betrothal and he will host a celebration ball.”

Katie had been so overjoyed it had been difficult to keep the news to herself while she’d waited. Over and over, she’d considered telling her Aunt Agnes, but she had kept her secret to herself.

Which turned out to be a very good decision.

A week crept past, and then another. Katie did not become concerned until three weeks had gone by. She’d known something was dreadfully wrong by the time six weeks passed. She’d spent night after night wondering if she should approach Jasper’s father and ask if his son had been injured or called away somewhere else. But the Marquess of Lindhurst was an intimidating, distant man and she’d not been able to work up the nerve.

By the time two months had gone by Katie knew that Jasper had abandoned her. By then she’d made another, even more terrifying discovery and had fallen into a melancholic abyss.