course it is. That caricature has announced to all of London that I am a woman of loose morals who let herself be compromised in a carriage!’
‘Katrina, those caricatures are meant to be satires. They aren’t meant to be viewed in a literal sense.’
‘I am aware of that, but the implication is there. It’s very humiliating.’ She flopped onto her back and covered her eyes. ‘And I have tried very hard to act in accordance with all the ton’s ridiculous rules.’
The bed dipped as Sarah sat next to her. ‘Anyone who has met you will know that the drawing is a gross exaggeration of your character.’
‘I disagree—many will believe all American women conduct themselves as such.’
‘Some people already had those notions before we even stepped ashore. In time, as more and more American women arrive in England, people here will have a better understanding of our true character.’
Katrina raised herself up on her elbows and her eyes met Sarah’s soft amber gaze. ‘Why is it that I am the one who has garnered all this attention? Madame de Lieven doesn’t pester you. The papers do not write about the gentlemen you dance with, and you have never been the subject of a scandalous caricature.’
‘You are more attractive than I am.’
‘You are simply saying that to try to improve my disposition.’
Sarah’s lip twitched. ‘Yes, that is true. Everyone knows I’m the pretty one.’
Katrina managed to smile before her thoughts turned back to Julian. ‘Lyonsdale cannot be pleased by this. He prides himself on being above reproach.’
‘Has he called on you today?’
Katrina shook her head, not wanting to consider the significance of his absence.
‘Katrina, that man is taken with you. I doubt a bit of satire will give him cause to announce that he will marry Lady Mary Morley.’
‘Lady Mary?’
‘Yes. She is the only other woman I’ve seen him dance with, and I hear she has the approval of his mother.’
Oh, God! Katrina flopped down again. All this time she had been worried about his association with Lady Wentworth. What she should have been worried about was how she would feel when Julian announced that he would marry the very proper, very respectable Lady Mary Morley.
She started sobbing, convinced she wouldn’t stop till morning.
As Julian sat in his elegant coach he leaned his head back and took a deep breath. The rocking motion was contributing to the queasiness that had been plaguing him. He closed his eyes, grateful to be away from the prying eyes of Westminster.
Winter had given the speech he’d been supposed to give. Knowing that if he had delivered the same address some of those men would actually have cast their votes in opposition was humiliating. The words ‘foolish’ and ‘disgraceful’ were still knocking about in his head.
His stomach pitched again.
Two months ago he hadn’t even known Katrina existed. He’d been respected, focused and content. As much as he hated to admit it, his mother had been correct. A man in his position was made for contentment—not some intangible emotion that made him feel as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff not certain if he was ready to jump off.
Katrina had turned his life upside down.
He wanted his orderly life back.
The only way he knew how to get that was to cut his ties with her and pursue Lady Mary Morley. Lady Mary was the ideal woman for a respectable duke.
His chest tightened. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to take a deep breath. But if Katrina’s reputation was in question he would have no choice but to do the honourable thing. He was an honourable gentleman before all else.
Dammit, he needed to see this print!
His carriage slowed to a stop and he stormed into his home, prepared to contact his secretary and obtain a copy of the print. He stopped when he was informed that Hart was waiting for him in his study. Dealing with Hart was not what he needed at the moment.
‘Finally!’ Hart said from where he sat reclining at Julian’s desk, with his ankles crossed, a brandy in his hand. ‘I have been waiting here for hours.’
‘I am in no mood. Finish your drink and go.’ He knocked Hart’s boots off his desk.
‘That’s a fine thank you for all my efforts today. Are you aware that there is a caricature of you and the lovely Miss V?’
‘I am. However, I’m warning you. Do not toy with me. I will not be responsible for my actions.’
‘Then you’ve seen it?’
Julian strode across the room and poured himself two fingers of brandy. ‘No, I intend to acquire one tomorrow.’
‘Luckily for you I’ve brought one with me to give to you.’
The pounding of Julian’s heart echoed in his ears as his gaze was drawn to the paper resting on his desk. He took a long gulp of brandy and moved slowly to get a closer look. When he spotted his crest on the carriage door he saw red. Burning with rage, he let his eyes scan the print illustrated by Cruikshank. He crumpled the paper and threw it across the room.
‘I will destroy him!’
‘I must confess I never thought I’d see the day your likeness appeared in a print shop window.’
Julian was so enraged he barely heard his friend’s words. ‘Tell me you have the plate!’
Shaking his head, Hart narrowed his eyes. ‘Odd, but when I enquired I was told the plate had already been sold. Perhaps Vandenberg bought it.’
Julian dropped down into a chair. Dear God, Katrina will hate me when she sees this! Her reputation was in tatters, and it was all because he had been selfish enough to risk her good name for a few extended hours with her before he committed his life to an unhappy marriage. What kind of man did that make him?
He was a man of honour, and he would fix this.
He turned to Hart. ‘I need to borrow your coach.’
* * *
Julian sat across from Mr Vandenberg in the man’s study and wondered if Katrina’s father had poisoned the brandy he had just poured for him. The man was not pleased. That was plain to see from his stern expression and detached demeanour.
‘I wondered if you would call here,’ he said in a controlled tone. ‘The hour is rather late.’
In all his life he had never been uncomfortable sitting across from a man. He was now. ‘I was in session today. However, I felt it best
