Married to the Marquess (30 page)

C
hapter
S
ixteen

K
ate absently hummed to herself as she wandered around her home after visiting with Diana and Mary Hamilton, which had been a rather delightful way to spend her morning. They had given her some rather enlightening news concerning her.

During the party at Nathan and Moira’s when she and Derek had left so prematurely, the story went around that Colin Gerrard had not only managed to put a great hole into the Marchioness of Whitlock’s finest mourning gown, but had also, in the process, accidentally caused her to fall into the fountain nearby. Apparently, Colin was quite mortified about the whole affair, and according to a few of the sympathizing young ladies who had flocked to him in consolation, he had promised to replace it from the money in his own pocket.

She could hardly wait to remind him of his vow.

Diana had also given her all of the details surrounding David’s mysterious absence from town, which had caused more than a few tender hearted misses to be desperately forlorn. Rumors had been flying that his angry father the duke had raged with such a fury that David had been thrown from the house and sent off to a monastery in Calais, never again to look upon a woman. Others said that he hopelessly compromised a servant girl and had fled England to escape her seven angry brothers. But the majority of Society merely thought that the dashing Lord David was lying in wait for a new batch of young ladies to fall one by one to his charms.

Obviously, none of the stories were true. Kate didn’t even blink at overhearing them. She snickered a little, but other than that, it was just the sort of tosh and bother that one should never pay any mind to. But as David was family to her now, she thought she needed to know the truth. Derek had not been especially forthcoming, but then, the details of anything between himself, his father, and his brother had always been a difficult and private subject in his mind.

Diana had no such restraint.

It didn’t take long at all for her to lay out the whole story. The duke had received a letter from the family estate in Scotland.  Apparently, someone had been stealing the sheep from the tenants, which was causing a great stir, as it was the main source of income up there. Owing to the fact that something needed to be done about it, and that David was showing no inclination towards marriage at present, and given the fact that Diana had announced her being with child, the duke had decided that, rather than creating a rather violent dissonance between his family right when something so joyous would be occurring, he would send David to investigate the problem. 

Kate was surprised by the decision, but saw the wisdom in it immediately. David would be away from his father’s overbearing rule and doing something productive in the process. But surely the duke had not come to this rather prudent and uncharacteristically lenient resolution all on his own.

When she had suggested it, Diana had smirked and confessed that she may have had a little bit to do with it, and, had not the letter come on its own, she would have created a scenario to ensure a similar outcome. “David can hardly get into trouble up at the Scotland estate,” Diana had assured her. “It is too far from anything to even be remotely tempting.”

Kate doubted that David would be without temptation at all, as it seemed to follow him everywhere, but she said nothing.

After he finished in Scotland, Diana went on, David would make trips to each of the other estates to ensure that all was well and see to any needs that ought to be addressed. That would certainly keep him out of London for some time, which was really all he needed. And the duke had sworn not to do anything about a marriage before David returned, and especially not without his consent.

So it seemed that all was settled in that quarter for the time being. David had been so keen to leave that he had done so almost immediately. Kate was profoundly grateful for that. Perhaps now Derek would be able to turn his attention to other matters.

Like their marriage.

She continued humming to herself as she walked along the gallery. Things were looking so promising for them, and she hoped that soon enough she would feel brave enough to confess to Derek just how much he meant to her. She would even ask him to stay with her, to not go back to the country unless she was going with him.

A scant five paces later, she realized what it was she had been humming all morning. It was the song Derek had been singing to her last night. It was the song they had waltzed to in the moonlight.

It was their song.

She would never forget how she had felt in his arms, how she had wished that they could have danced forever in that mystical world they had shared for those few minutes. No more would that gazebo be her spot alone; now it would be theirs. It would always remind her of him.

He had said she could never go alone again, and that suited her just as well, as she didn’t think she would ever
want
to go there alone again. But she couldn’t tell him that, it was too bold. She had merely laughed it off and kissed him, her first time initiating, however brief it had been.

But it was not enough. She had to prove to him that she loved him by action, as she was unable to by words.

The melody of his song floated through her mind again, and she smiled slowly. She could do something, something that would mean a great deal to him, something that only he would understand.

She would write him a song. But not just any song. She would write
his
song.

And when it, and she, was ready, she would play it for him.

And he would know, at last, that she loved him.

With a firm nod, she whirled and dashed towards the stairs. There was work to be done, and she had no idea how much time she had to do it in.

Kate was lost in her thoughts later that night as she watched the flames dance about the logs in the grate. Something was wrong. Derek was being secretive, standoffish, and distant. Dinner had been so silent and uncomfortable between them, and with things feeling so right of late, it terrified her. Perhaps he did know that tomorrow marked the end of their deal and that he could leave whenever he chose. Perhaps this had all been nothing but a trick, and she was to be left the fool for all to see.

But how could he have designed the moments between them? How could the emotions and heat and sensations been falsehoods, nothing more than cold calculations to entertain him? He was better than that. He would not be cruel, but perhaps in his efforts to be friends, he had led her too far, and now was regretting doing so, and was pulling back to spare her.

Yes, he would do that. But it would not spare her, it would only hurt all the more. Better a cruel design against her than an accidental misleading. One was his fault; the other was hers.

She had spent the better part of the afternoon working on her song for him. It was taking longer than she had planned, as putting into music all that was Derek was quite nearly an impossible task. She was pleased with what she had so far, but she could hardly play him something that she had not completed.

If he stayed, she would finish it. If she found him still here in the morning, then she would know that she had not been mistaken, and that her efforts and emotions had not been in vain.

If tomorrow he were here still, she would know if he might love her.

She swallowed hard as a few tears started to work their way towards the surface. Oh, how she hoped he would stay.

She heard the floor creak behind her then and she hastily blinked back any hint of tears, then, once she was certain her appearance was in all respects normal, she turned. Derek was coming towards her, looking mostly back to his usual self. She felt her shoulders sag just a touch in relief.

She offered a smile, which he returned immediately.

“That was a rather awkward meal we had just now,” he remarked as he approached.

She managed to laugh a little, though it was forced. “Rather, yes.”

Derek clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry about that. A bit distracted, I’m afraid.”

“I understand,” she said rapidly, resisting the urge to pull at her gloves or her skirt. Her nerves were rising again, and his collected expression was not doing anything to help that.

He stared at her for a moment, then began rocking on his heels ever so slightly, as if anxious. “What did you do today?” he asked in a polite tone, the calmness of his words sharply contrasting with his actions.

“I visited your sister and Mary.” She could have kicked herself for sounding like a schoolgirl. Honestly, it was her husband, not some imposing instructor with a cane to beat her with.

“Ah, and are they well?” he asked, still rocking a little. If he continued to do that, Kate would go mad.

“Rather well, I think. Diana told me of the news.”

“What news?” he asked in a harsh, fast tone, his voice rising.

“The baby,” she replied in confusion.

“Ah, yes, of course, of course.” He nodded swiftly, looking relieved. “Wonderful news.”

“Indeed.”

They stood there facing each other, looking everywhere but
at
each other, for what felt like an eternity. Finally, Kate could stand it no more. “Would you like me to play?” she asked as she moved to the piano.

“Very much,” he responded, again his words coming out rushed. He moved to his usual place on the sofa and looked prepared to listen, but his fingers drummed already on the arm.

Kate struggled to find composure enough to play, but somehow managed. Why was he even here when he so obviously wanted to be gone? But if he wanted to pretend, then she would pretend along with him. If this were the last time she was to play for him, then she would make it count.

She played with feeling, she played with skill, and she played with energy; so much so that when she was finished, she felt exhausted beyond measure. Perhaps the quantity of songs had not been as high as it usually would be, but she dared to believe that the quality was unmatched. She was rather proud of herself.

She chanced a look over at Derek, who was not, for once, watching her. Her heart sank. Had he even been listening?

As if sensing her gaze, his eyes flicked over to hers. “All done, then, are you?”

She nodded, unable to speak.

He stood and offered her a hand, which she took. He pressed a proper kiss to her bare hands, and, though she knew it was imagined, she could feel the heat from it searing all the way to her toes. “Incomparable as always, Kate,” he murmured, rubbing a thumb across her knuckles.

Against her will, she blushed at the low timbre of his voice. “Thank you.”

He tucked her hand into his arm and led her upstairs, not saying anything further. He didn’t even look at her.

He’s leaving,
she thought.
He’s leaving in the morning and he doesn’t know how to tell me. He doesn’t love me.

“What was that, Kate?” he asked suddenly, leaning a bit closer.

“What?” she responded quickly, panic rising. “Oh, nothing. I didn’t say anything.” Had she said something aloud? She couldn’t remember. It would have been highly stupid of her to do that. Above all else, she must remain composed.
A duchess always maintains composure
. She closed her eyes with the pain of hearing her mother once more. Would the rules come back to haunt her once he was gone?

When they reached her bedchamber, they stopped and Derek turned to face her, but still he said nothing. He watched her, but not with the warmth and emotion she was used to. This look was more of a study, as if he were trying to read her as he might a book. But he didn’t say a word.