“What?” he scoffed.
“Try kissing her hand,” Benedict offered. “And do attempt to keep the drool from dribbling out of your mouth.”
With that, they both pushed him in her direction and sighed in unison.
After a few minutes, Katherine felt Benedict’s hand on her back, and then his lips near her ear. “Ice skating?”
“Yes.”
A loud commotion at the door interrupted their moment.
Suddenly servants were rushing out of the dining room.
And then running.
Several stopped and began to mumble prayers.
Were they under attack?
Had something happened?
“Hurry!” the butler yelled, then stopped and pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his perspiring face. “It must be perfect!”
A footman quickly opened a flask and gulped its contents. Another began to cry.
What the devil?
And then she heard it.
But she was convinced rather than hearing the familiar female shrieking, Benedict felt her presence.
“Am I too late to join the party?”
The voice was unmistakable. In fact, it seemed the entire room went tight with tension and mumbled under their breath in unison, “Agatha.”
Chapter Fifteen
The Visitation
Benedict suddenly wished lightning would strike the very ground he stood on. Logically speaking that is, he would push Katherine out of the way and take the brunt of it. Then again, she would be left to face Agatha without him.
Sometimes it was better to be the selfish cur.
Struggling between his two lofty dreams, Benedict decided it was time to face the music, or in this case the dragon, and stood his ground, pulling Katherine firmly by his side.
Agatha hobbled in, rather than walked. It seemed her health truly had taken a decline. Either that or she was a splendid actress and belonged on Drury Lane with the rest of them.
Most likely the latter.
“Ah, Aunt! How splendid to see you!” The lie fell easily off his lips as did his smile, stunning his aunt so completely that her jaw dropped and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“I knew it!” she shouted. Did she need to shout her victory in front of an audience?
“Knew what?” Katherine asked.
“That he would one day remember to smile. He just needed something to smile about. Isn’t that right, my dear?”
Katherine blushed profusely.
“Am I interrupting the morning meal?” Agatha peered around Benedict to see everyone sitting stiffly at the table.
“Not at all, Aunt. Join us?” He held out his hand as a sort of peace offering.
Grinning, she took it and tucked his arm close to her frail body. Had she been losing weight? She smelt of his family, of memories, and he was suddenly feeling like an absolute cad for his treatment of her, his one remaining relative.
“Do tell me you shall go ice-skating on the pond?” Her eyes glistened.
“Yes,” he answered unable to pull his gaze away from her face. When did she begin to age? And why was her skin so pale?
Katherine joined them and kissed Agatha on the cheek. He never thought he’d see the day that his aunt would blush. “Actually, would you care to join us? We were just going to grab our skates.”
Agatha smiled and patted Katherine’s hand. “I would love to, dear.”
Dear? Benedict fought to keep the shock from his face.
“It is such a beautiful house, and a perfect day for the outdoors!” Agatha announced. At that precise moment, the butler collapsed and a footman exhaled thanks to God while servants slumped against the walls. As if the woman had just declared that Parliament was in session and everything was as it should be.
She gave a jolly laugh and walked out with Katherine. Benedict followed, his heart warming at Agatha and the woman he cared for chatting about ice-skating.
Chapter Sixteen
Dukes on Thin Ice
Katherine held Agatha’s hand and placed it on her arm until they reached the frozen pond. After setting the dowager on a bench and wrapping her frail body in blankets, Katherine was shooed away to join the festivities.
Benedict wasn’t far behind. Paisley and Lady Anastasia soon followed. Several couples were already skating on the pond, and Katherine didn’t want to wait to join in the fun.
Quickly, she attached her skates, and began to wobble along. Everything was going perfectly well until the ice seemed to jump up and catch her skate, causing her to stumble. Soon her arms were waving frantically, and she could already feel the pain slicing her bottom if she were to fall.
Strong arms surrounded her, and then warm breath grazed her ear. “May I be of assistance, my lady?”
Katherine regained her balance and looked at her rescuer.
The joke was obviously on her, for God hadn’t sent her a guardian angel. No, something quite the opposite.
If anything, Benedict’s devilishly handsome looks seemed to only intensify with the white snow in the background. Curse the man.
“My thanks.” She smiled.
He held out his arm. With a laugh, she tucked her arm within his and skated alongside him. They pulled up right next to Paisley and Lady Anastasia.
“Paisley, you skate like a woman,” Benedict called out in good humor then nudged Katherine. “Looks like one, too, with the way his skates are tied on. Poor soul would be better off sitting on the bench, I fear.”
Katherine stifled a giggle while Paisley accepted Benedict’s challenge to race.
Apparently, he felt he was defending not only his own honor but that of his fiancée’s for he asked to carry her colors. As if he were a knight set about to joust in the tournament.
Benedict rolled his eyes and released his hold on Katherine. Her arm suddenly felt cold. Why hadn’t Benedict made a similar offer? Sighing, she took a seat on the bench next to Lady Anastasia and tried not to slump or do anything to outwardly show her displeasure, though she was slightly disappointed. And then Paisley turned his beautiful eyes toward her. “Lady Katherine, might I wear yours as well?”
His mouth widened into a breathtaking smile. By Jove, she had forgotten how handsome he was! Yet, her reaction wasn’t the familiar fluttering that she was so used to with Benedict. If anything it was amusement, not attraction. Odd? With a relaxed giggle, she offered a handkerchief as well, smugly satisfied as Benedict’s face seemed to contort with jealousy. Serves him right for ignoring her. Well, what could she expect when a man such as he was faced with competition?
The race was fast.
Paisley was faster.
But unfortunately, Benedict was slow, though it could have been in part to the fact that Baldwyn tried to trip him around the first circle nearly sending the Devil face first onto the icy surface.
Never had she heard so many curses and oaths during a children’s game.
By the time both men returned, they were breathing heavily and slapping one another on the back.
“A pleasure as always, your grace-less.” Paisley smirked.
Benedict’s eyes glowered, his usual mask of anger, until a small smile began to tug at his lips. Katherine knew that smile. It held secrets and manipulations. Oddly enough, it looked exactly like the smile the old dowager had when she was planning on doing something malicious. Not that she would ever tell Benedict this, for fear that he would stop smiling altogether.
“Speaking of graceless, did any of you happen to hear that commotion out in the corridor last evening?”
To say the conversation took a definite change into uncomfortable territory would be an understatement. Paisley laughed off the noise as if a vase had fallen, and Lady Anastasia looking so mortified she might have been ready to go up in flames despite the low temperatures.
A change in subject was needed.
But before Katherine could open her mouth, Lady Anastasia requested some mulled cider, successfully pulling Baldwyn awa
y from the group, but not without giving Katherine a chilly stare.
“Care to skate, Kate?” Benedict held out his hand.
Katherine rolled her eyes. “Promise to behave?”
“I’m not sure I understand the definition of the word.”
“Promise?”
“No, behave.” He smirked and tugged her body so close to his she began to perspire.
“I imagine there are many words you lack the experience of hearing. Take for example—”
“—Tsk, tsk, Katherine, don’t go spoiling our little outing, not after I’ve been watching the wind pick up your skirts enough to glance at your ankles. Think of the terrible mood you’ll put me in when you begin to repeat all the words I so despise hearing.”
“As in?”
“No. I despise the word no. It is so final, so cruel.”
Katherine laughed. Oh, the man was ridiculous. “And when was the last time someone told you no, Benedict? If ever?”
“Well, I recall a certain someone saying no to my proposal, and a certain someone also saying no to courting me, which I’m still terribly distraught over. To think I missed any chances I would have had at being skillfully wooed by a woman.”
“My heart aches for your loss, your grace.”
“Does it?” He stopped skating, and pulled her flush against his body. “And what, do you think would cause it to beat, just a bit faster? Perhaps a kiss? Or mayhap, a tiny taste, right here I think.” His hand reached out and touched her chin. “I find myself fascinated with your skin here, maybe your heart shall begin to heal if I kiss right here.”
“Or…” Katherine pulled away from him, feeling flirtatious. “I’ll merely say the word you despise the most in all of the world, sending you into fits of hysteria.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve caused mental and physical harm.”
“And dare I say it won’t be the last.” She winked.
Benedict threw his head back and laughed. It seemed to silence the skating around him, causing stares to come from every direction. Suddenly uncomfortable, Katherine blushed and darted next to his side. But he wasn’t totally balanced, he took a topple so hard that her own bum hurt.
Letting out a string of curses, he looked up at her from the ice and grimaced.
Katherine tried to keep from laughing. Really she did, but the look on his face was so pouty, she couldn’t help but outright laugh at the picture he gave. Benedict’s brows drew together, his lips forming a grimace and his face reddened just slightly.
“Very funny,” he hissed through his teeth as he tried to set himself to rights. With Katherine’s help they were able to slowly make their way back to the bench where Lady Anastasia and Paisley stood, mulled cider in hand.
Once Benedict was safely on the bench, he smiled and refused to release Katherine’s hand. “How about a kiss for the wounded hero?”
“Wounded? Hero? Where, your grace? All I see is the devil being brought back down to earth.”
Paisley burst out laughing, then at Benedict’s piercing gaze, found his mulled cider even more fascinating than before.
“Please?” Benedict pulled her closer, but at that precise moment her skate caught on a chunk of ice. It felt as if her body was in slow motion, her arms flailing at her sides and then with a grimace she fell, but didn’t touch the cold hard ice as she thought would happen.
Instead she was in the arms of the duke. Again.
The wrong duke. Paisley.
Mulled cider had spilt all over his clothes, but he didn’t seem to care a whit. “Are you well, my lady?”
She gulped and nodded her head. “Yes, apologies. I didn’t mean to ruin your cider.”
“It’s the cup I’m more concerned about.” He looked down to the broken mug lying across the ice.
“Sorry.” Shaking off the embarrassment of nearly taking another man down with her, Katherine tried to pull away, but Paisley kept his hand firmly grasped around her waist. “On that note, I believe it is time for us to skate.” He flashed her a smile and tugged her into the line of graceful skaters.
It felt different holding his hand.
As if they were opposites trying to attract one another. It was warm and comforting but nothing more.
There was no nervousness at being near Paisley, no tension as there was with Benedict.
Perplexed she looked up at his face and squinted, perhaps getting too close, for he suddenly stopped and looked at her as if she had lost her mind.
“Did you hit your head?” he asked politely.
“No.” Katherine blushed. “I was merely, er, examining you.”
“For?” He lifted an eyebrow.
“Imperfections?” she offered.
“And the consensus?”
“None.”
Paisley put a hand to his heart and sighed. “Imagine my relief.”
Katherine bit her lip. “I’m terribly sorry. It was rude of me to examine you so closely, it’s just that…”
“What?”
They continued skating in circles, lazily falling behind the groups racing around and around.
“I used to have a frightful tender for you.”
That stopped him. Perhaps she’d said too much.
“And now?”
“Now?” She lifted an eyebrow amused that his smirk didn’t seem the least bit offended or wounded. “Now, I find you perfectly perfect.”
“Yet perfectly wrong for you?”
“Absolutely. So glad you understand, Paisley.”
He rolled his eyes. “Far be it from you to use any sort of propriety with a man you find so repulsive.”
“Not repulsive.” Katherine nudged him. “More brotherly than anything.”
“Music to every man’s ears.” He laughed aloud, this time stopping in order to catch his breath. “And dare I guess where your affections lie?”
It was Katherine’s turn to blush. But Paisley stopped her, his hand cupping her chin in an intimate yet brotherly fashion. “Do me a favor. Considering you find me perfectly brotherly, take my advice. Tread carefully with my cousin, alright?”
She nodded, and they continued to skate, falling into easy conversation and laughing the entire time.
Chapter Seventeen
A Plan Forms
Benedict watched, perplexed how his plan could go so utterly awry. His brilliance was in fact not so brilliant when his ploy of being injured left him alone on the bench pouting, and Katherine skating with his cousin.
The same cousin she used to desire.
The more they talked and laughed, the angrier he became until a soft sigh on his left stole his attention.
Lady Anastasia looked quite ill. “Are you well, Lady Anastasia?”
She sighed even deeper. “I’m lovely, just lovely,” came her dry reply. If he didn’t know any better, he would think she was being sarcastic.
He reached out and touched her arm. “You are quite pale.” Perhaps she would take the hint and tell him why she looked so troubled. If anything it would take his mind off of shooting his cousin in the arm for touching Katherine.
“Am I?” She slumped. Never had he seen Lady Anastasia slump as if totally defeated. “Perhaps if your grace is recovered enough, might you consider taking a turn with me around the pond? I believe the cold is settling into my bones.”
A conundrum. If he skated, Katherine would know he wasn’t injured, but anything was better than sitting, so he hobbled along with Lady Anastasia and pasted a smile on his face, though he could have sworn it felt menacing.
What the devil did Baldwyn find so amusing about Katherine? And why was she leaning in to him like that?
He took Lady Anastasia’s outstretched hand into his, and limped while trying to appear a graceful skater, around the outer perimeter of the pond.
“Careful,” Lady Anastasia said to his left. “Or you’ll fall on your injury.” Her smirk told him she didn’t believe for one second he was injured.
“What gave me away?”
>
“You were limping on the other foot not five minutes ago.”
Benedict cursed. “Perhaps I have a small desire to be nurtured. Is that so wrong?”
“So even the Devil desires good deeds? Interesting.”
Well, when she put it that way…
“How are things progressing with my cousin?” Benedict asked politely.
A blush crept up Lady Anastasia’s cheeks as she jerked her attention away from staring at Baldwyn. “I’m afraid, they aren’t.”
“Aren’t?”
“Progressing. In fact things seem exactly the same as before, well, I guess that isn’t entirely true after last night’s…” She clamped her mouth shut.
Benedict laughed heartily. “Your secret’s safe with me, though I wonder why the blasted man needed to be so inebriated to do something he’s been craving to do for days.”
“I doubt that.” Lady Anastasia looked down and stopped skating.
Benedict wanted to strangle his cousin. How dare he make this woman feel unwanted? It was safe to say that if it was him the girl would already be ruined.
Katherine was a shining example of the way Benedict handled women. But this was different, so he reached over and touched her face, careful to slow his movements enough to gain attention.
“W-what are you doing?” Lady Anastasia sputtered.
“Giving you progression, my lady, in the basest way I can.”
“How?”
“Jealousy.” And with that Benedict leaned down to whisper nonsense into her ear about laughing and managing a tiny blush.
The timing was perfect. Baldwyn’s head snapped to attention, and Katherine’s eyes narrowed. Benedict shook his head slightly and Katherine nodded. How was it that by that simple action, he knew Katherine trusted him? In that very moment?
He was about to skate to her, to steal her away from his Scottish cousin, when shouting commenced from the bench.
“I want to skate, and I’m going to skate!” Agatha wailed.
Merciful heavens above, was it too much to ask for God to have at least given her a quieter voice? Or perhaps the ability to practice patience?