Love was clearly the warrior duke’s Achilles’ heel. Pondering all she had come to know about him, she sensed that he was terrified of it, partly because, to him, it was the unknown, and partly because of that blasted superstitious curse.
She had to show him what was real.
She had to stand for something higher.
She had to find the courage now to love him even more. Love, not
because of
all that he could give her. Anyone could do that. But love
in spite of
the darkness in him and the chilling threat that he might never love her in return, might not even be capable of it.
What a terrifying chance.
But as hope pierced the gloom of fear like the pinprick patterns of a tin lantern-cover, she knew she had to try.
Love him. Don’t judge him. Forget about those women in his past.
I’m his present. I’m his future.
He walked into the music room, smiling, and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “Hullo.”
She tensed. Though she was absolutely sure of the right thing to do, what love demanded scared her half to death.
For Rohan’s own good, she would have to leave the place of comfort and security she had finally found. Otherwise, he would never see her as any different from all those women who had used him. If she simply abided by their contract, he would never know that he was truly loved.
By offering it so generously to her in her darkest hour, he had helped her through her deepest fears. It was her turn now to help him conquer his.
But she had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it.
“I brought you something,” he murmured, dropping the leather knapsack off his shoulder. “A few things, actually.”
That low, velvet voice alone was enough to stir her desire. He smelled of horse and leather and his own subtle musk that she had become as addicted to as opium-eaters to the smell of their pipe smoke. As he bent closer and gave her an affectionate little cuddle, she bit her lip with a vague pang of want. “Miss me?” he breathed in a seductive tone by her ear.
She did not answer.
Courage, Kate,
she warned herself, then regarded him cautiously at close range. “What did you bring? ”
“Were you crying?” he asked abruptly, frowning as he noted the redness around her eyes.
“Studying the book, that’s all.” She dropped her gaze at once. “It’s dusty.”
He studied her, his brow furrowed. “Find anything?”
She tapped her fingertip on the open page. “These strings of elements—they’re codes. Each element corresponds to a letter.”
“I’ll be damned. Well done, my girl!” He pressed a casually possessive kiss to her temple. “So, what does it say?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m still working on it.” She closed the book, trying to seem nonchalant. “What’s in the bag?”
He smiled and straightened up again. “All sorts of goodies for my girl.” He picked up the leather knapsack again, reaching into it. “First, this.” He handed her a little folio of papers whose cover was stamped with the insignia of the Bank of England. “Your account has been set up. It’s fully funded now, whenever you want to draw on it. This, too, so you’ll have it.” He pulled out a neatly rolled wad of crisp paper cash and offered it to her.
“Rohan—”
“Wait, there’s more,” he warned with a devilish smile.
Kate looked down at the bank papers, but handling them uneasily, she set them aside along with the roll of cash.
“For you!” He held up a large, drab gown with wicked amusement dancing in his eyes.
She tilted her head, studying the coarse gray gown skeptically. “What on earth … ?”
“You are to be transformed, my dear.”
“You expect me to wear that?” she exclaimed.
“Sorry, it can’t be avoided. Tonight we must disguise your lovely self.”
She snorted. “It’s a bit big! I would think you’d know my body’s dimensions better than that by now, Your Grace. Or perhaps you had me confused with somebody else?”
“It’s a larger size on purpose. This goes with it.” He reached into the bag once more and pulled out the next piece of her disguise, some sort of theatrical padding. “And … voilà.”
“I am
not
wearing that ratty old wig.”
“Oh, yes, you are. And this hideous mob cap, too.” He grinned. “And wait, don’t forget your spectacles.”
“I’m going to look like a toad,” she said in dismay.
“That’s the whole idea. Presenting—Gerald Fox’s poor old spinster daughter.”
She gave him a long-suffering look. “Is this really necessary?”
“I wouldn’t put you through it if were not,” he replied with a glint of rakish humor in his gray eyes.
“O’Banyon already knows what I look like,” she reminded him.
“Yes, but James Falkirk doesn’t. And if we happen to run into him and his charming one-eyed bodyguard, let’s just say this costume is better than having to look over your shoulder for the rest of your life.”
She sobered. “Oh.”
“If it’s any consolation, I shall also be going incognito. I will be the other smuggler, replacing Denny Doyle. On that note, I must go and give Pete his instructions about his role tonight.” He headed for the door. “Try to get some rest. It’s likely to be a late night.”
“Rohan—wait.” She swung her legs down off the side of the settee and swept to her feet. The time had come. “We had a bit of an, er, incident while you were gone.”
Instantly, he stopped and turned around. “What happened?”
“I’m afraid you’re not going to like it.”
His eyes narrowed in question.
“You know those rules you gave me?”
“Yes.”
“I broke them,” she said flatly, lifting her chin. “I was seen.”
“By whom?” he demanded, taking a step closer. “The neighbors?”
“No, by the great crowd of ladies who came here looking for you.”
At least he had the decency to blanch. “Ladies?”
She folded her arms across her waist. “Lucinda. Pauline. I don’t know the others’ names.”
“Kate,” he murmured sternly, eyeing her in question.
“It’s really not my fault,” she declared. “They were practically going to break down the door. Eldred needed help! I was standing at the top of the stairs, and that’s when they saw me.”
“Damn it, Kate, I gave you those rules for a reason!” he blustered, glowering at her. “Did you speak to them?”
“Mainly I listened.” She primly averted her gaze. “And overheard some mention of their husbands.”
“What did you say to them?” he demanded.
She gave an innocent shrug. “I simply told them you were not at home, and that they could leave their cards if they wished. They didn’t. They left … rather quickly after I spoke to them.”
“Kate, I can’t believe you did this. I gave you those rules for your own safety!”
“You amaze me! Half a dozen of your past conquests show up at the doorstep, and that’s all you have to say for yourself?”
“What of it?” He stared menacingly at her. “I suppose this is the part where you let loose some petulant fit of hysteria and start lobbing pieces of china at my head?”
“Do I look like I’m having a fit?” she asked coolly, holding his gaze, refusing to cower though he loomed over her.
He stared at her for a long moment, not entirely successful at hiding his confusion. “No.”
She acknowledged his admission with a crisp nod.
“So, what then? You hate me now?” he asked with an air of growing suspicion.
“No, Rohan.” Kate was beginning to enjoy confounding him. She reached up and cupped his cheek gently in her hand. “I’m just glad to see the vast improvement in your taste.”
He removed her hand. “You don’t know what you’ve done.”
She frowned.
“Kate, these were Society women!”
“Obviously!”
“Which means that by tonight the talk is going to be all over Town about the luscious young beauty hidden away in Warrington’s house—right when we’re in the middle of a highly dangerous operation!”
She heaved a sigh. “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m afraid it’s worse than that.”
“Worse?”
“Perhaps my tone was a little sharp when I addressed your paramours—”
“Former paramours,” he growled.
“Whatever the reason, they began curtsying to me before they scurried away.”
He stared at her. “Curtsying to you,” he echoed.
“Yes.”
“Lucinda is a countess. Pauline is a baroness.”
“Well.” She shrugged. “They seemed to draw their own conclusions about my presence in Your Grace’s home.”
He stood stock-still for a moment.
“They thought you were my wife?”
“It would seem so,” she replied, coloring a bit. “It’s not my fault! Ask Eldred! It all happened exactly as I’ve told you.”
Well, this is damned awkward.
Rohan was torn between sardonic humor at the thought of his haughty ex-lovers bowing down to Kate and the exasperated urge to throttle her.
He just shook his head, muttering, “I leave the house for two hours, and it all turns into a comedy of errors.”
Kate set her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “Are you angry?” she asked in her usual forthright way.
He looked into those emerald eyes—and how could he be? “No,” he admitted guardedly. “Are you?”
“I was, for a while.” She shrugged. “But I got over it.”
He stared at her, amazed and all the more smitten, seeing her calm reaction. “Bless you,” he said at length, acknowledging her forbearance with a nod of grateful relief. If the roles had been reversed, and Kate had shown up while he was with Lucinda or one of the others, he’d have been subjected to a show of fury worthy of Caro Lamb. “You have no idea how many times I’ve been screamed at,” he muttered.
“I can imagine,” she replied. Then her shrewd gaze narrowed on him. “But don’t mistake my serenity for approval. Speaking as one who was given to you as a plaything, your behavior toward women has been beastly. I know for a fact that you’re better than this.”
He studied her, immediately on his guard. “My, my, now you are starting to sound like a wife. Too bad I’m not in the market for one of those.”
“No, why should you be? You’re too busy sleeping with other men’s wives to bother finding your own.” She smiled.
“Everyone does it around here,” he replied, stung, but refusing to let her see him wince. “Besides, they pursued me.”
“All the same, you know it’s wrong. No wonder you’re such a lone wolf.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Furrowing his brow with deepening annoyance, he folded his arms across his chest.
“Simply that you can’t expect to be a part of the civilized world when you go about ravaging other people’s families. Honestly, Rohan! I can’t believe you’re thirty-four years old and still behaving like a boy of seventeen.”
“I can’t believe I’m standing here being lectured by my mistress,” he replied crisply.
“Er, yes. About that.” She walked back to the settee, picked up the bank booklet and the roll of cash. With her back to him, he saw her take a deep breath before she turned around; then she marched back to him, carrying both.
“I can’t accept this. Here. Take it back.”
“What are you talking about? Why?”
“Take it, please.”
He let out a low expletive. “I knew you were angry!”
“I’m not.”
“Well, you should be, damn it!” His cheeks flushed in angry confusion as she raised an eyebrow at him. “Take it, Kate. It’s yours. Don’t worry,” he said, “I can afford it.”
“That’s just it,” she answered softly. “I’m afraid I can’t.”
“What is that supposed to mean? You’re not making any sense. What do you want? More money?”
“No! I don’t want
any.
Please, just take it.”
“I will not. Kate, we have been lovers. I have to give you something.”
“You already have,” she answered with a tender gaze that increased his bafflement by tenfold. “Do you understand what I am telling you?”
“No bloody idea.”
“Well … you’ll figure it out eventually.”
A dreadful explanation rose up like a dark phantom in his mind as she turned away and set the items on the nearby table. His heart began to pound. “Are you leaving me? Is that what this means? Why? Because of these stupid women? I don’t give a damn about them! You’re punishing me—”
“No! Rohan, I forgave you before you even came home.”
“What is this, then? I don’t understand! Did I do something wrong?”
“No, darling!” she soothed. “This arrangement is what’s wrong, and we both know it. I don’t want your money. I’d rather have your respect.”
“Oh, please.”
She ignored his impatient scoff. “I’d rather have you know deep down, that for me, it was never about the gold.”
“Kate, this is completely daft. How the hell do you intend to live?”
“My father will help me—if he is alive.”
“So, you
do
want to get away from me.”
“No!”
“What
do
you want, then?” he nearly exploded.
“I don’t want to end up like those women in your past! I-I don’t want to lose you.”
He dropped his head back with a guttural sound of exasperation. He searched the ceiling, as if some skyward clue could help a man make sense of a woman’s logic.
Then he looked at her again. “You don’t want to lose me, so you’re pushing me away.”
“I’m trying to help you, Rohan.”
“How?” He was stymied. “You’re throwing everything off-kilter! We had an agreement, Kate!”
“Well, we need a different one!”
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand, or you don’t want to?”
He fell silent, studying her.
She was getting at something, but for some reason, she wouldn’t just come out and say it. This was very unlike her. Scrutinizing her, he began to see the light.