Chapter Twenty-Six
“Do come back soon,” Mrs. St. Clare said as she escorted Katie to the foyer. “I have enjoyed your visits greatly.”
“I have enjoyed them, too,” Katie said. This was her fourth visit to the older woman’s house, and each and every time she came away with a better understanding of her husband.
It wasn’t that Mrs. St. Clare told her Gerrit’s secrets but rather shared recollections about him—mainly from his boyhood—as well as her memories of his father, a man who sounded even more reserved than his son.
“I wish I could come by more often, but now that Gerrit and I ride to the dig together it is difficult to find an excuse to get away,” Katie admitted as she pulled on her riding gauntlets, put on her hat, and collected her whip from the console table where she’d left her things an hour earlier.
Mrs. St. Clare looked pleased. “I am sorry that you cannot visit as often, but I am delighted about the reason, my dear.”
Katie could not help grinning like a fool; she, too, was thrilled by how much time she was spending with her husband in the weeks since she had first visited him at the dig.
St. Clare suddenly grimaced. “I regret that I asked you to keep our friendship a secret from Gerrit,” she said as she walked Katie out to the small carriage house and stable block where Robin stayed while Katie visited.
“But I fear he might put a stop to them if he knew. I realize that is a terrible admission for—”
“If you are terrible then so am I. Who knows what sort of flight of fancy he might take against me visiting?” Katie said, giving the other woman a sheepish smile.
“It is better this way; he cannot forbid what he does not know about, can he?” She could see her words did not make the older woman feel better, but she did not want to risk losing this unorthodox friendship.
And something told Katie that Gerrit would not approve of her friendship with his father’s mistress.
A wife should probably feel guilty about concealing things from her husband, but really, what could it hurt to visit Mrs. St. Clare for an hour here and there?
After all, if not for the older woman’s urging—and Betje’s too, of course—Katie’s marriage would be doomed to failure.
In truth, Gerrit should be grateful that she’d befriended Mrs. St. Clare.
But somehow, she did not think he would see it that way.
Katie waved goodbye and guided Robin back through Echo Forrest toward the path that would take her to the dig. She cut a worried glance at the sky. There was thick cloud cover, but the air did not feel especially humid, so hopefully the rain would hold off until tonight.
It was already past one o’clock, which meant she’d only have a few hours at the dig.
Katie had missed her ride with Gerrit that morning and the first half of the day with him because she’d felt so guilty about allowing her domestic duties to slide that she’d decided to spend the morning with her housekeeper.
After she’d finished at Briarly it had seemed a perfect opportunity to sneak in a visit to Mrs. St. Clare before heading to the dig.
Now that she’d developed an interest in fossil hunting, everything else seemed like a chore.
Well, not her needlework. It was nice to enjoy plying her needle again.
But as for the rest of the activities that ladies were supposed to enjoy—paying calls and attending neighborhood gatherings—Katie was grateful that Dulverton did not seem to care if she did any of those things.
Thinking of her husband made her smile. They were getting along swimmingly, and not only in the bedchamber.
Having fossils to talk about had opened the door to other subjects, from estate matters to current events.
Dinners had become almost lively affairs and their evenings in the library were no longer conducted in monastic silence.
The best times, however, were those nights when he stayed in her bed.
While she had not gathered the courage to invade his domain again, Dulverton had slept with her at least one night in three.
Not only was their lovemaking gloriously satisfying, but her husband was at his most approachable after they had eased each other’s carnal appetites.
The only subjects they seemed to have any difficulty discussing were each other.
Twice Katie had attempted to lure him out of his shell by asking personal questions, but his eyes had shuttered and that had been enough to keep her from probing.
For some reason it did not worry her over much.
Especially when she remembered what he’d said the night she went to his bedchamber—that he was glad he had married her.
Katie knew lots of men might have said that merely to please her, but Dulverton was not lots of men. If he said something, he meant it.
As far as she was concerned, the important matter was that they were talking, which was miraculous considering how their marriage had begun. Katie felt sure they would grow closer as time passed and they felt more comfortable with one another.
If only she did not have the matter of Jasper hanging over her head.
Her smile dropped away at his unwanted intrusion into her happy thoughts.
The only reason she was not consumed with terror at the thought of Jasper visiting his grandmother was because of Becky.
Telling her friend the truth about that summer was one of the wisest decisions she had ever made.
Becky, who was stricter about matters of social protocol than most dowagers, had strongly advised Katie to send her regrets to the Countess of Grimsby’s garden party.
“You are newly wedded,” Becky had reasoned when Katie asked how she could possibly avoid the countess’s function. “You can claim a prior engagement that cannot be avoided. She will understand. Later in the summer—after you are certain Lord Jasper is not coming—then you can pay her a visit.”
Katie had been pathetically grateful for Becky’s advice because it had been exactly what she wanted to hear.
“With any hope Lord Jasper will deposit his daughter with his grandmother and disappear back to wherever he came from,” Becky had added, echoing Katie’s thoughts.
“We are fortunate that Cook’s daughter—who is an insatiable gossip—works in Lady Grimsby’s kitchen.
” Becky had smirked. “Cook will probably know about Lord Jasper’s arrival before he does. ”
Katie had laughed, although it had been tinged with hysteria. And then she’d written to the countess to express her regrets.
The event was only three days away and thus far Cook’s daughter had made no mention of Lord Jasper. Evidently Lady Grimsby’s granddaughter had arrived at her house in the company of the countess’s own groom, housekeeper, and the baby’s nanny.
She felt a slight twinge of remorse that she had rejected Lady Grimsby’s invitation when—
“Katie!” a voice yelled behind her.
Katie shrieked and jerked the reins causing Robin to whicker nervously and dance sideways. Once she’d settled him, she twisted in the saddle, her heart almost pounding out of her chest at the man currently guiding his horse out of the woods onto the path.
“Sorry about that, darling,” Jasper said, not sounding sorry at all.
“You,” she said flatly.
He grinned. “In the flesh.”
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, returning his smile with a scowl.
“Looking for you.” He brought his horse to a halt beside her. “I was beginning to believe it was impossible to catch you without Dulverton.”
“Why are you looking for me? And why does it matter if I am alone?”
His blue eyes, still as brilliant as she recalled, widened in mock surprise. “You are an old, dear friend. Why wouldn’t I look for you? As for wanting to talk to you privately? Well, I have things to say. Things that are for your ears alone.”
She ignored his ominous comment. “I’d heard that Lady Grimsby’s servants brought your daughter here.”
His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Yes, that’s true.
Grandmama did not know I was coming and is not best pleased.
She has tucked me away in a cottage on her estate until she decides what to do with me.
” He made a moue of disgust. “While it is a relief not to be under her roof and forced to endure her dour looks and constant carping, I have only my valet to do for me at the moment and am living quite rough.”
“Why are you here? I was given to understand that your grandmother is raising your daughter while you mourn the loss of your wife by indulging your appetites in Naples.” Yet another piece of information Becky had gathered.
Nothing Becky had heard about Jasper was good.
It appeared his reputation in the neighborhood was less than sterling, although Becky had not been able to discern any specifics.
Rather than be offended, he laughed. “Ah, little Katie has claws, does she?”
“I am almost three-and-twenty, not so little anymore.”
His eyes flickered over her in a way that had once sped her pulse but now made her want to slap him.
“No, not so little. As for my wife?” He shrugged.
“Well, you and I both know that Judith was my grandmother’s choice—not the choice of my heart.
” He gave her such a calculated look of longing that it was all she could do not to laugh.
Or vomit. Had he always been so transparent?
Katie feared that he had. And that she had been a little fool, looking for acceptance and love and too oblivious to notice his true colors.
When she did not respond, he relinquished his brokenhearted lover expression and changed tack. “So here we are! I am widowed and you are now a grand married lady.” He suddenly laughed. “I stopped in London for a few days on my way here and heard how you ended up with Dullness.”
“I do not care for that name.”
Jasper ignored her. “Kissing games?” He clucked his tongue. “Poor Katie, hoist by your own petard.”