way an animal goes off on its own to die.” She was quiet for an uncharacteristically long moment.
“Go back to London, Ree. I’m fine.”
“You aren’t.”
He looked her in the eye and called up all the clarity he could muster. “I am. I’ve been looking forward to this for months and now, finally, I’m home.”
She pursed her lips. “Very well,” she finally said. Impulsively she reached for his arm. “Anything can be fixed, dearest. Have you tried everything? And I do mean everything, James.”
There was one thing he hadn’t tried. I love you. He imagined saying those words to Katherine, but could only imagine her scorn if he did.
* * *
HIS HEAD POUNDED like the devil after Honoria left. Winston! Bloody hell. He needed to return to London now. Today.
But what good would it do? It was far too late to fix anything. He’d acted with complete disregard for Katherine’s feelings—there was no way to change that now. And in the process, he’d robbed himself of ever knowing whether she might have chosen him of her own free will.
Yes! Her sharp answer shot through his head. He set his glass down and sat forward, cradling his head in his hands. If he’d just renewed his proposal instead of assuming he knew what she was thinking...
Perhaps he would return to London. God only knew what he’d do when he got there, but he would think of something. He was her husband. And he’d spent years issuing commands. If nothing else, he could order her never to see Winston again.
There were footsteps outside the library, so he called out. “Hodges! Have Finley pack my bag. I ride for London in twenty minutes.”
“Don’t know who Hodges is,” came a voice he recognized too well, “but if he was supposed to be at the door, he’s abandoned his post. Let myself in—hope you won’t hold it against me.” Winston ambled into the library as if he owned it.
James was across the room in two seconds with Winston shoved against the wall by his shirt. “Bastard! Is Katherine with you?”
“God, no,” Winston choked out. “And if you tell Lady Croston of this visit, I shall deny it. I have ten men prepared to swear I’ve been in the country inspecting a prime piece of horseflesh.”
From the sound of things, the only prime piece Winston had been inspecting was Katherine. James tightened his grip on Winston’s throat. “If you’ve touched her, I shall kill you. Honoria has told me everything.”
“Clearly not,” Winston said, shoving back at James powerfully enough to break his hold. “I had to run my horse into the brush to avoid being seen by your sister not ten minutes ago. Now listen here—” He held up a hand when James took a step forward. “Damned unsporting of you, not telling Lady Dunscore about the vote. I don’t know what you were thinking—and I don’t care—but I intend to see that you fix things immediately. This business of pretending to have an affair with your wife is playing hell with my ability to pursue legitimate amorous liaisons.”
“Pretending to have an affair with my wife?”
“I never should have agreed to such a ridiculous plan.” Winston tugged at his sleeves and stalked into the room. “Tried to tell her no, but she was so clearly aggrieved I thought it was the least I could do. Had no idea it would drag on close to a week without you turning up to call me out. And now we’ve got that bloody masquerade tomorrow evening, and I’ve been hearing talk of a pirate costume that is rumored to be de trop—and I doubt they’re referring to the volume of fabric—and quite frankly, Croston, it is indeed too much. I’m a man, not a saint, though God knows for your sake I’ve been trying. I demand to know whether you plan to come to London and call me out, or whether my sacrifices have been in vain.”
“Are you asking me to believe,” James said quietly, stalking toward him, “that Katherine suggested that the two of you pretend to have an affair?”
“God, Croston, you’re a slow one. Is that cognac over there? I could use a slosh.”
James grabbed him again. “You have no idea how satisfying it would be to obliterate you once and for all,” he said between clenched teeth.
“I’m half tempted to oblige you,” Winston drawled, “as it would extract me from my current misery. But I daresay all this enthusiasm would be much better spent between your wife’s legs. Although at the moment, one would be hard-pressed to determine that you have a wife at all.”
The temptation to bloody that curled lip was overwhelming. “Have you touched her?” James demanded.
“Only to hand her in and out of my curricle. Ride back from the park—perfectly innocent.”
“Nothing with you is innocent.” The idea of Katherine riding anywhere with Winston in anything curdled his stomach.
“The memory of my humiliation at her hand is ever with me. You’re more of a man than I am, taking that virago to wife. Good God.” Winston curled a hand around James’s arm. “If you’re going to take a swing at me, then do it. Otherwise, release me before I decide to take the initiative myself.”
If he took that swing, he wasn’t sure he could control himself. He let go. “Get out.”
“You’re obviously in love with her,” Winston said. “Even I can see that much, and I’ve got exactly no experience with love, nor do I wish to ever gain any. So what you’re doing hiding at Croston while your wife and her charms are back in London, I cannot begin to imagine.” He went to the door, still adjusting his shirt. “I must return to London immediately. From what I’ve heard of that pirate costume, tomorrow’s masquerade is not to be missed.”
“Get. Out.”
Winston flashed a damnable grin and disappeared, leaving James behind to contemplate the significance of Katherine’s pretend affair. But it didn’t take much contemplation because he knew exactly what she was doing: showing him she would not be taken captive.
He had failed her. On the Merry Sea, in Salé, in London, at Dunscore. He had failed her in every possible way. But devil take it, he loved her. And she was still his wife whether she liked it or not. Whether he deserved her or not.
Yes. Yes, he bloody well was going to go to London and fix this, and he knew exactly how he was going to do it.
“YOU MUSTN’T BE angry with me,” Honoria said as she swept into Katherine’s dressing room, which Katherine knew could only mean she would be angry with Honoria the moment she spilled whatever news had pruned those barely painted lips. “La—is that your costume?” Honoria stopped short, staring at the bed.
There was a certain satisfaction in answering, “Yes.”
“It’s...” Honoria shifted wide eyes from the costume to Katherine’s face. “Quite daring.”
“You disapprove?”
“Not at all.” Honoria went to finger the flesh-colored
