Katherine nearly floated into the house. She was so enchanted, in fact, that she was halfway across the kitchen before realizing that Emma and Bixby were sitting at the worktable, staring at her. She paused and returned their gazes. The expectant looks on their faces told her they had been waiting for her. Unfortunately, she couldn’t seem to remember why.

Bixby rose. “I knew as soon as Miss Constance came looking for you that you had gone after his lordship. I fobbed her off. Well, Miss Katherine? Did you catch the fellow?”

She gave him a lopsided smile before realizing he wasn’t talking about Alex. “Oh, the spy. No, I didn’t. But Lord Borin is aware of the danger and will take steps to rectify matters.”

Emma threw up her hands as she too rose. “Oh, Miss Katherine, how could ye go out by yerself like that? What were ye thinking, child?”

At the moment, she wasn’t thinking at all. Her blood sang, her spirit soared. “I’m just fine, Emma,” she assured her housekeeper.

“Of course she is,” Bixby said, pride evident in his voice as he came around the table. “She was doing her duty, putting her conscience before propriety. If you ask me, that’s the mark of a true lady.”

Conscience before propriety? She rather thought it was her emotions, not her conscience, that had the upper hand. But she really didn’t want to discuss that with Bixby. “Yes, well,” she hedged, edging for the door to the upper floors, “I think I shall just turn in.”

“Oh, come on, miss,” Bixby begged, holding out a chair for her. “Sit down and tell an old campaigner all about it. Did you at least spot the miscreant? What did he look like? Does Lord Borin think him connected with the spy or Miss Montgomery?”

Katherine shook her head. Her emotions were far too thick to sit and have a nice chat. She saw Emma regarding her with a frown and felt her smile slipping.

“Enough of you, Willy Bixby,” the housekeeper said suddenly. “Can ye not see the poor girl’s done in?” She ambled forward and put a thick arm about Katherine’s waist. “There, my dear, ye just go on up to yer room. I’ll bring water for a nice hot bath. ‘Twill do ye a world of good.”

Bixby’s face fell, but he made no move to stop her as she gave Emma a grateful hug and fled.

She tried not to think about the scene in the coach while she changed out of her clothes. If she continued to dwell on it, she would get nothing done the rest of her life! But once she immersed herself in the steamy water of the bathing tub, she found she had shed her control with her clothes. Memories and emotions tumbled over each other, and she knew her tears contributed to the water around her.

And why should she cry? He loved her! That could be the only explanation for his words and actions. Nothing on the walls of her War Office had indicated he trifled with ladies of the ton. While she was certainly not in his social sphere, neither was she the sort to be made a mistress. And had he been willing to overlook that fact, he could have taken the first move tonight. She did not think she would have been able to stop him had he demanded more from her than sweet kisses and a passionate embrace. She had been enjoying herself far too much.

But he had made no move to dishonor her. Instead, he said he wished to call on Sir Richard. The only reason would be to offer for her. Why did she find that so hard to believe?

Perhaps because she heard so many complaints about her skills and abilities. Oh, she knew her family loved her, but at times, she felt as if a spot deep inside her was empty. No one but Constance and her father had ever truly listened to her play the harp, until Alex. No one but her stepfather had ever praised her ability to manage a household or keep their family intact, except Alex. Few had ever noted that she was pretty in her own right, that she might have as much charm in her own way as the lovely Constance, but Alex did. That someone as handsome and kind and charming as Alex could actually love someone like her was beyond her wildest dreams. She wanted it to be true. Oh, please God, let it be true! She could imagine nothing finer than to be the wife of Alexander Wescott, Viscount Borin. She hiccoughed, half sob, half laugh. The hope he had offered her was too amazing to believe, and too wonderful to let go.

She must have been more tired from her exertions than she had thought for she slept far later than usual the following morning. She found the breakfast table deserted and only curdling chocolate left for her to drink. Curious, she went to the withdrawing room, where she found Constance reading a book.

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” her stepsister greeted with a smile. Her pink lustring gown was fresh, her curls glossy. Even though she had bathed the night before, Katherine felt dusty in her grey poplin.

“Eric is supposed to be at his studies with Sir Richard,” her stepsister continued, “and Bixby went to answer the door.”

Katherine stiffened. “The door? A bit early for callers, is it not?”

Constance pushed out her lower lip thoughtfully. “I suppose so. It must have been a tradesman to keep him so long.”

“At the front door?” Katherine shook her head as her heart started to beat faster. “Not likely.” Turning to go, Katherine saw Constance set down her book and rise.

“What is it?” she called after her with obvious concern. “Has something happened?”

Katherine paused in the doorway. “I don’t know,” she admitted, “but I intend to find out.”

She knew her stepsister was at her heels as she hurried to the stairs and down. She saw no one until she reached the ground floor. The door was shut, the entryway empty. Peering around the stair, however, she found Bixby and Eric in deep study at the library door. Bixby leaned with one ear to the oak panel while Eric knelt with one eye squinting in the keyhole.

“What on earth are you doing?” Katherine demanded.

Bixby’s head jerked up. “Hush!” he cautioned, waving her to his side. “Lord Borin is in there with Sir Richard.”

“What?” Katherine flew down the corridor. She joined Bixby with her ear to the door, but only succeeded in hearing muffled voices.

“How long have they been in there?” she whispered to Bix as Constance tiptoed down the corridor, eyes wide.

“A few minutes,” the butler murmured. “You should have seen his face at the door, miss. I never saw a man so tense. Was he angry you followed him last night?”

Katherine frowned. He had come angry? Had she totally misunderstood him? He had called speaking to Sir Richard an honor. Surely that meant an offer of marriage.

“You followed Lord Borin last night?” Eric asked. “Oh, would I have given a quid to see that!”

“Katherine, you didn’t,” Constance chided.

Before she could answer, Bixby hushed them all again. “Quiet! Do you want to get us caught before we learn why Lord Borin came?”

“He’s no doubt here to offer,” Constance said sagely, crossing her arms over her chest. “It is his duty to protect Katherine’s reputation.”

Duty? Her heart plummeted. With all her stratagems, had she managed only to compromise herself and him in the process? She had no doubt he desired her, but she didn’t want him if all he felt was lust and duty.

Bixby had returned his ear to the door.

“What’s happening?” Constance begged in a whisper. “What are they saying?”

“Hush!” Katherine said in unison with Bixby. She didn’t know whether she could stand to find out but found she certainly couldn’t stand to wait wringing her hands like Constance. She pasted her ear to the door once more.

They were so intent in their studies that no one heard the rap on the front door or its repetition several seconds later.

 

–

 

Lord Templeman frowned when no one came to answer his knock. He glanced to where his carriage waited beside the one bearing the Borin crest. His spies had come to warn him the minute they’d spotted the viscount. The wretch had broken his word and come calling yet again. It remained to be seen how far matters had gotten. He had come immediately to find out.

But he couldn’t find out anything if they didn’t answer the blasted door. He glanced about again, noticing that none of the neighbors were in evidence. He shifted his bulk to hide his movements from the coachmen and grooms, then pressed on the door handle. To his delight, it opened easily and silently. He peered into the entry.

He was not prepared, however, for the sight that met his eyes. His cousin stood beside the library door, wringing her hands. Their miserable excuse for a butler had the effrontery to lean against the door listening. If Templeman wasn’t very much mistaken, that was the brazen Miss Collins partially hidden behind the fellow doing the exact same thing. He even spotted her brother at the keyhole. A nastier group of petty spies he’d never seen. He puffed up his chest to reveal them, loudly, but before he could open his mouth, Bixby stiffened.

“There! Did you hear that, Miss Katherine? He offered!”

Constance cried out and threw her arms about her stepsister while the boy jumped from the door and began doing a hornpipe in the corridor. Bixby grinned from ear to ear.

Templeman stumbled back out the door and closed it silently behind him. Clutching his heart, he managed to reach the coach, waving his man to drive on.

Collapsing against the velvet cushions, he gulped in air. This was so much worse than he had feared. Offered! Borin had offered for Constance. There was no question that Sir Richard would accept, or that his cousin would have any regrets in agreeing. Borin was titled, Borin was well-connected, Borin was disgustingly, impossibly rich. With so much wealth, why would he insist on separating Templeman from his own rightful fortune? Had he not done everything from the start to dissuade Constance from this union? Yet, despite his best efforts at rumor-mongering and innuendo, Borin had not been shunned.

Well, the time for subtlety had passed. Borin must disappear, as soon as possible. And he knew just the way to do it. He rapped on the panel over his head.

His coachman answered with alacrity. “Yes, milord?”

“Take me to Whitehall,” he growled. “I’m long past due for an appointment with the War Office.”

 

–

 

Inside the library, Alex paced the floor, intent on making his case to a surprisingly stern judge.

“I know I have not shown myself overly industrious in catching this spy,” he said to Sir Richard, who had been watching him with a light in his eyes that Alex found unnerving. “But I assure you I will be a devoted husband to your niece.”

“And do you intend to continue your quest to serve in the War Office?” Sir Richard asked with maddening calm.

“I do not,” Alex promised.

Sir Richard raised a brow. “Do you give up so easily, then?”

Alex could not help but wince. Here was his failing, come back to haunt him. He had to show the man that he could be counted upon to take care of Katherine. “I have been told that I do not have it in me to work for what I want,” he confessed. “But I will work for your niece’s hand, if that is what you require. Name a task, and it shall be done. Test me, and I will succeed.”

“Commendable,” Sir Richard replied with a quirk of his lips that told Alex he was trying hard not to laugh at him. Instead of taking umbrage, he could only smile in return.

“Then you’ll set me some task to prove my worth?”

“Not so fast,” the man replied, raising his hand as if to forestall additional questions. “I have some questions for you and an issue you must resolve. First, if not the hard work, why have you decided against a career with the War Office?”

Alex saw no reason not to be forthcoming. “I had thought it was excitement I craved, but I have found all I could hope for in your niece. I love Katherine, Sir Richard, and I would be honored to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“I rather think she feels the same way about you,” he replied, and Alex felt his heart jump at the prospect. “I think you have a great deal to offer Katherine: Reputation, place in Society, wealth. Unfortunately, at the moment, you also offer her a shadow of suspicion. That is the issue you must address.”

Alex grimaced. “This spying affair.”

Sir Richard nodded. “You appear to be no closer to solving the mystery of your pursuers than when we first met. I assume it has something to do with your connection to Lord Hastings.”

“Possibly,” Alex replied. “At the moment, however, I wish I had never laid eyes on the chap. I want this to end.”

“I believe you, my boy. But someone doesn’t. And until we know who, I cannot be comfortable with your engagement to my niece.”

Alex felt his shoulders sag. “You are right, of course. Yet I fear the damage to her reputation by her recent escapades. And, selfishly, I do not wish to wait to call her my own. Can you not trust me to extricate myself from this matter honorably?”

Sir Richard eyed him, and Alex held his breath. When he thought surely he had lost, the man struck his hands on the arms of the leather-upholstered chair.

“Very well,” he proclaimed. “We will leave it to Katherine. If she’ll have you, you have my blessing.”

Alex blew out a breath, springing forward to pump the man’s hand as he rose. “Thank you, Sir Richard. I promise you I will make her happy.”

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Sir Richard replied with a smile. “Go on, now. Have Bixby fetch her for you. I will leave you two alone. If things go as you plan, I hope you will stay to celebrate.”

Alex readily agreed, accompanying Sir Richard to the door. He thought he heard a wild shuffling as they approached, but it could have been the pounding of his pulse.

Bixby was in place at the foot of the stairs as Sir Richard opened the door and, to Alex’s delight, Katherine was with him. He noted she looked unreasonably pale, but he was too pleased to see her to wonder at the reason. Sir Richard gave him an encouraging wink before crossing to his niece.

“How fortunate to find you here, Katherine. Lord Borin has something he wishes to say to you. I’ve given him permission to meet you in the library.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze.

As she moved forward, Alex couldn’t help noticing her reticence. She walked as if she were going to her execution. His heart plummeted once more. Had he misunderstood her last night? Did she not wish him to offer? It couldn’t be that she was afraid of the spy after all, not his courageous Katherine. Bemused, he bowed her before him into the library and shut the door behind them.

“Before you start,” she said, head high, “you need to know that I refuse. I will not marry you.”