Chapter 15
Kate thought her clandestine meetings with Jackson had created havoc with her emotions. To her dismay, not seeing him had done worse.
Two days had passed during that time. His sudden silence, combined with how her father ignored her, was slowly knocking days off her life.
If not for her sisters rallying around her, she would have lost her feeble grip on her sanity. Though what they offered in support was rather lacking considering they had no notion of her plight. If they ever caught word of how far her scandalous behavior had gone, they’d never remain so devoted.
As for Kate standing firm in the face of her father’s searing disappointment, the siblings’ counsel proved indispensable. Blackthorn had assured her everything would right itself. Given Father’s cold regard, Kate had her doubts . . . and they were prevailing.
“Stop fidgeting,” Valarie commanded from the opposite seat of Wipstine’s carriage as it traveled through the darkness to yet another social gathering. Kate vaguely recalled something about a musicale. It hardly mattered since her thoughts were barely clear enough to focus on such a meaningless diversion.
“I wasn’t,” she finally replied. How she wished she’d stayed strong instead of allowing Valarie to press her into attending with her and Wipstine.
“Sorry, mouse, but you were.” Wipstine offered no qualms about siding with his wife. Or with labeling Kate with such an awful moniker.
An infraction Kate couldn’t overlook. “How is it that I’m practically a married woman, yet you persist in using that horrid nickname?”
“Here we go,” Valarie mumbled, curled on the seat beside her husband.
Kate’s glare remained focused on the current outlet for her rampant emotions, seated close enough for his face to be illuminated by the lamp hanging outside the carriage. Hard to miss the curl of Wipstine’s smile as he ignored his wife and continued to provoke Kate. “Once a mouse, always a mouse.”
She wasn’t surprised by his teasing, for the name was a longstanding jest between them. But somewhere amidst Jackson’s inattention and Blackthorn’s generosity, she’d discarded her humor. And Wipstine might well suffer for it. “Once a devil, always a devil?” she quipped.
Given Valarie’s sharp gasp, Kate had pushed further than was wise.
Prior to becoming all proper and respectable, Wipstine had a past—and not a good one. A subject not spoken of by Society, and the family, since he’d gone above and beyond to bury his misdeeds—and maybe a few skeletons. His transgressions had been covered by such a combination of wealth, newfound impeccable manners, and a wife loved by Society, that Kate still didn’t know what they all were. Alluding to his scandalous past wasn’t something anyone dared to do.
His smile never dimming, Wipstine murmured, “My mouse has grown claws.” Oddly, his lack of a reaction was worse than any scorn he might produce.
Hating that she’d been mean-spirited, Kate’s apology sprang forth freely. “Forgive me. That was unnecessary.”
“I disagree,” he replied, much to Kate’s surprise. “That was completely necessary. Kate, you are no longer a child. You are a young woman in need of taking control of her life. Even if only to put me in my place.”
Kate stared at her well-dressed, unperturbed brother-by-marriage. Was she seeing him in a new light? Though he’d always been kind and they’d developed a lighthearted kinship, their familial association hadn’t stretched into overt friendship.
“Stop looking at me as if I’ve grown an extra head.” He glanced at his wife. “You too, dear.”
Alerted to her sister, Kate turned to Valarie as a sappy smile lifted her cheeks. “I’ve never loved you more.” Valarie’s whisper was for his ears alone.
Wipstine reached for Valarie’s hand and brought her gloved fingers to his lips before bestowing a light peck. “Whereas, it is humanly impossible to love you more than I do.”
Such open affection flowed between the couple, that a keening jealousy hit Kate square in the chest. She’d have liked nothing more than to sink through the floor of the carriage, rather than be privy to such a private moment between husband and wife.
She had often viewed Valarie’s marriage as a loveless union forced by duty. Upstanding and proper, Valarie didn’t flaunt her wifely affection in Society’s public eye. Despite their years of marriage, Kate was discovering an unknown aspect of the couple.
If Valarie truly loved Wipstine—and based on what she had witnessed, they adored each other in abundance—then, her entire understanding of her sister’s union was skewed.
What did that mean for her impending marriage to Blackthorn?
She was prepared to sacrifice love for duty. To honor her father’s wishes. She snuck another glace at the couple still lost in each other. Was she willing to forfeit such utter devotion from her husband? Could she marry Blackthorn with only the hope of an amicable relationship?
“You can’t marry him, Kate.”
Engulfed by swirling thoughts, lingering doubts, and conflicting emotions, Kate almost missed her sister’s decree.
“I must,” she whispered. Not ready to overlook years of striving for her father’s approval, could she survive a lifetime of the same coldness he’d directed at her in the last twenty-four hours? Besides, her sister was fortunate. She’d found love with a man their father approved of.
If she refused Blackthorn, Kate doubted she’d be so lucky to find someone who’d meet her father’s demanding requirements.
~ ~ ~
Her evening did not improve. The musicale was lackluster, the company dreadful. And her thoughts plagued.
Not to mention the disappointed looks her sister kept casting her way. Kate feared Valarie would bore a hole through the back of her head. Thankfully when they’d arrived and exited the carriage, Kate had also escaped her kin and Wipstine.
Unfortunately, Valarie hated to be ignored and let Kate know her displeasure with each searing look.
“I think your sister is trying to get your attention,” Lady Julia commented, stealing a peek around Kate’s shoulder to Valarie.
Kate wouldn’t give Valarie the satisfaction of acknowledging her stare. “I believe she has something in her eye.”
Julia studied her as if she’d lost her mind. “Where is Blackthorn this evening?”
Stamping down the urge to snap that she wasn’t his keeper, Kate kept her response vague. “I don’t believe he is in attendance.”
The unmarried Julia, who Kate believed was but a few years her senior, took a quick glance about the room. “There seems to be several men absent this evening. I suppose the lure of musical instruments at the hands of young ladies couldn’t entice them.”
Kate would have laughed at the hidden witticism but she was distracted by who specifically wasn’t impressed by mediocre music. And it wasn’t Blackthorn.
Jackson.
She would take a hot poker to the eye before she admitted the only reason Valarie had successfully dragged her out tonight was the small possibility of seeing Jackson. It had proven too much of a temptation.
Leave it to the blackguard to not be in attendance, resulting in two full days ending without instructions on when they were to meet next. Which meant one thing.
He didn’t wish to continue their assignation.
A wave of sadness, so deep she choked on the dreadful emotion, blanketed Kate. Quietly excusing herself from Lady Julia, she made her way out the door.
The sweet smell of roses and the dark quiet of the night did nothing to repair Kate’s mood. It only increased her loneliness.
And reminded her of the last time she’d escaped an evening function in the search of solitude. The night Jackson had erupted into her world, effectively turning everything upside down.
Clearly an inept pupil unable to learn from past lessons, Kate ventured further from the house. Unlike the night of the Mosley’s ball, with a grove of trees to lose herself in, she found a lamplit path winding through the well-manicured yard.
Equally absent, a gnarled tree that seemingly glowed. An anomaly she swore had sprouted from nothing. A possibility so unheard of, she’d effectively pushed the memory from her mind. A simple feat since Jackson had absorbed most of her thoughts since that night.
But tonight was different. Tonight, she’d determinedly put Jackson—and what would or wouldn’t become of her future—from her mind. Free to roam, the memories of the mystical tree grew brighter, clearer.
Kate ambled along the pebbled path, ignoring the occasional sharp rock jabbing through the soles of her silk slippers. The cool night air soothed her heated cheeks and as the breeze passed by her, her worries fled with it. Out here, in complete solitude, she forgot she was Lady Katherine Baxton, obedient daughter of a duke.
She was no longer almost-engaged to a kind, respectable man whose only fault lay in his inability to capture her heart.
Here, she was simply Kate.
If only she knew who Kate was. She’d spent so long being who everyone wished her to be, she no longer perceived herself.
As the path started to curve back to the house, a heavy weight fell on her. She wasn’t ready to return.
Though highly ill-advised, she stepped from the designated course and set her own path, one lacking in smartly placed lamps and even footing. Maybe if she ventured far enough, she’d find what eluded her.
What she did find wasn’t what she’d expected.
But maybe exactly what she needed.