Chapter Twenty-Two #3
“If you will just point the way,” Katie said. “Then you can assist my maid in locating our footman.”
He blinked. “Oh. Er, of course. The parlor is just up these stairs and the first door on the right. Are you certain I cannot—”
“I will be fine,” she assured him, and then smiled. “If I do not open my own doors on occasion, I will forget how it is done.”
The publican’s jaw sagged.
Becky clucked her tongue and cut Katie an admonishing look.
Smirking to herself, Katie climbed the stairs. She was just opening the door to the parlor when a male voice boomed from the end of the corridor. “Lady Kathryn?”
She wanted to groan when she saw the Earl of Ampthill striding toward her, his unsteady progress telling her the notorious peer was, as always, the worse for drink.
“Lord Ampthill,” she said, making the words as repressive as possible.
Ampthill grinned, unrepressed. “It really is you, Kitty Cat!”
She gritted her teeth at the annoying nickname some wag had applied to her in her very first Season. “As you see,” she murmured coolly.
“Lord! You just get more beautiful all the time—although it has been a few years, eh? I just returned from Paris,” he said, even though she’d not asked. “I was in Brighton not long ago and heard the maddest story about you.”
Katie sighed.
“Don’t you want to hear it?”
“No.”
He threw back his head and guffawed, as if she had said something uproarious.
Katie turned toward the parlor. “If was a pleasure to see you again,” she lied. “But you must excuse—”
Ampthill’s meaty arm shot out, his hand landing on the door frame and blocking her entrance into the parlor. “I heard you masterminded a kissing contest at the Earl of Sutton’s ball.”
“Please remove your arm,” Katie said frostily.
Ampthill’s brainless grin grew, and he leaned so close that Katie worried she might become intoxicated from the fumes alone. “Not so fast, my kitten. I never had a chance to play your game. I think I’d like to have my kiss now if you don’t—”
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” a voice roared right before Ampthill’s body disappeared from the doorway.
Katie heard a thud behind her and spun around. Dulverton had Ampthill by the throat and pinned to the wall.
“That is my wife you were mauling,” Dulverton thundered, his hand squeezing.
Ampthill gurgled.
“Er, Dulverton?” Katie said, glancing worriedly up at her husband and tugging lightly on his sleeve.
Dulverton glared down at her through eyes that looked like chips of ice. “What?”
“I think you have cut off his air.”
“That is not all I will cut off,” he retorted savagely. “Did you arrange to meet him here?”
“Are you quite mad, Dulverton?” Katie sputtered. “Ampthill is drunk—as always—and he accosted me on my way into the parlor.”
Dulverton whipped around to his captive. “Is that true, Ampthill? Did you accost my wife?”
Again, Ampthill gurgled, but more weakly this time, his eyes rolling back in their sockets.
A startled yelp came from behind them and both Katie and Dulverton turned to find Becky at the head of the stairs.
“Where the hell were you?” Dulverton barked at the stunned maid. “Why weren’t you with your mistress as you are supposed to be? That is your purpose, and if you cannot—”
“Do not yell at her!” Katie snapped. “I am the one who sent her away. Now, release Ampthill immediately—unless you want to have an unconscious body on your hands.”
Dulverton’s lip twitched into a snarl and an actual growl rumbled in his chest. He released the earl as swiftly as he’d grabbed him and Ampthill slid to the patterned carpet like a stunned fish, gasping for air.
Feet pounded up the stairs and the innkeeper appeared beside Becky. “Your Grace? Is something amiss?” He gawked at the floundering earl. “Goodness! What happened?”
Dulverton gave Ampthill an ungentle nudge with his booted foot. “This bounder was attempting to molest my wife. He is drunk.”
The innkeeper stared aghast, his eyes bouncing like marbles from peer to peer.
Katie took pity on him when Dulverton continued to glare. “Please help the earl to his feet and take him somewhere… else.”
“Oh, yes.” The innkeeper darted forward. “Excellent notion. Thank you, Your Grace.”
Katie made her way into the parlor on unsteady legs.
“Your Grace?”
She turned to find that Becky had followed her and was peering anxiously up at her. “Did that man hurt you? Is there—”
“You!” Dulverton roared, standing in the doorway, pointing at Becky. “Out!”
Becky made a squeaking sound and immediately scurried toward the door, needing to squeeze past the duke’s big body.
Dulverton slammed the door behind her so hard the windows on the opposite wall rattled. “If your maid cannot manage to stay by your side while you are in public then I will discharge her and find somebody who will.” He strode to the table and yanked out a chair. “Sit.”
“I will not sit! How dare you order my servant about in such a rude, draconian manner?”
Dulverton closed the short distance between them and loomed over her. “I dare because I am your husband. You would be wise to obey me, or you will discover that I am capable of far more draconian behavior.”
Katie opened her mouth.
His icy eyes narrowed. “Have a care what you say, madam. I am not in a mood to be trifled with.”
Katie was so angry her vision blurred.
Fortunately, the parlor door opened and prevented her from spewing bile. Two servants hesitated on the threshold, bearing loaded trays yet obviously repelled by the atmosphere in the room, which was thicker than the slices of bread piled on one of the trays.
“Get on with it,” Dulverton barked, setting the frozen tableau into motion.
Katie ground her teeth together so hard they should have been powder. She looked from the bustling servants to the duke, who was regarding her grimly.
You are foolish to taunt and infuriate him when he has every right to be angry at me for allowing you to wander alone through an inn, phantom Becky chided.
Katie suspected she would get an almost identical scolding from the real Becky on the way home.
Once the food had been arranged one of the maids turned to Dulverton. “Will there be anyth—”
“Go,” he ordered. “And do not disturb us again. If I want you, I will ring for you,” he said, his eyes never leaving Katie.
The women hurried from the room.
“Must you be rude to everyone?”
He looked genuinely confused. “Rude?”
Katie snorted. “You really don’t know what I mean, do you?” Before he could speak, she held up a hand. “Never mind. Just—just forget I said anything.”
“Consider it done.” He cast a speaking look at the chair he’d pulled out for her, and Katie dropped into it with an irritated huff.
Dulverton sat opposite her and commenced to cut a slab off the rare roast beef. When he moved to put it on her plate she said, “I am not hungry.”
He ignored her and Katie seethed as he proceeded to put portions of all the dishes on her plate. Once he was finished, he turned to his food and commenced to eat with the same single-minded determination he did every night at dinner.
Katie flung down her napkin and stood and then gasped when Dulverton’s hand closed around her wrist.
“Where do you think you are going?” he growled, getting to his feet. Still holding her arm, he wiped his mouth with the napkin in his other hand before dropping it to the table.
“Somewhere else. Now, unhand me.”
“What did I just say about you wandering alone?”
“I’m sorry, I was not listening—did you say something about wandering alone?”
His pale blond eyebrows drew down and his nostrils flared. “Perhaps you regret that I interrupted that sordid little scene in the corridor?”
Katie was momentarily nonplussed by his offensive question.
“Or were you trying to make me jealous, Kathryn?”
“Jealous,” she repeated faintly, her heart pounding faster. What was wrong with her that she liked the sound of that so much?
His hand tightened. “That would be a very dangerous game to play,” he said, his voice low and menacing.
“I would never do anything so reckless!”
He raised one eyebrow.
Before Katie could tell him to go to the devil, he gave a negligent tug on her wrist and she stumbled toward him, slamming into his chest.
“Dulverton! What do you—”
His lips sealed over hers and one of his big hands slid around her waist and snugged her tightly against the unyielding wall of his chest while he ravaged her mouth.
His actions were so unexpected that Katie forgave herself for freezing with shock. But she could not forgive her body for melting against him and kissing him back.
Have some dignity!
It took every bit of strength she could muster to pull away from him. Rather than fight her, he instantly loosened his hold, a gesture that, inexplicably, angered her more.
“What do you think you are doing?” she demanded huffily.
“Giving you what you need.” His coldly appraising eyes flickered over her flushed face before sliding down her throat and coming to a halt on her heaving bosom. “What you want.”
“You do not have the first clue about what I need or want,” she retorted, incensed at the quaver of excitement in her voice.
“Lift up your skirt.”
“Wh-what?”
“You heard me,” he rumbled, closing his hands around her upper arms, and walking her backward.
“What are you doing?” she squeaked when her bottom bumped up against something hard.
“Turn around.”
“Dulverton—I demand—”
He easily spun her to face a heavy cabinet of the sort that usually held crockery. “Bend over.”
Katie’s entire body shook with lust and she could not seem to move.
Dulverton’s hand, large, warm, and rough, slid around her neck and cupped her jaw, turning her head to the side just enough that she could see him out of one eye. “Tell me you don’t want it and I will stop right now, Kathryn.”
Katie swallowed but did not make a sound. Oh God. Please don’t stop.
His lips twitched and he gave a smug, approving grunt. “Just as I thought. Now, lift up your skirt.”