sat back in his wingback chair. The amber liquid in his glass held his attention. ‘I see. Am I to assume you are here to discuss a certain caricature?’
‘I am.’ He had never asked for anyone’s hand before. He probably should have thought about what to say before he’d entered Katrina’s home.
‘I have been assured it is not an accurate depiction of events. Is that true?’
His heart dropped at the realisation that Katrina had been forced to explain her actions to her father. What exactly would she have told him? ‘No, sir, it is not. I—’
Mr Vandenberg held up his hand. ‘There is no need to continue, Your Grace. I imagine you are here to offer an honourable solution to this unfortunate matter. However, I assure you that won’t be necessary. You have no wish to marry my daughter, and she has no wish to marry you. There is a way to address this without forcing you both into a trip to the altar.’
He should have felt relief at the words. Instead, hearing that Katrina didn’t want to marry him was like a hard fist into his gut. ‘I don’t understand.’
Mr Vandenberg folded his hands on his desk and pierced Julian with his gaze. ‘If you voice an interest in the upcoming negotiations between our two countries people will assume that the print is a satirical depiction of your interest in the United States and not a bit of gossip about a scandalous ride with my daughter.’
The suggestion ruffled Julian’s principles. He sat up taller and pulled his shoulders back. ‘That almost sounds like blackmail.’
‘Not at all. I am not asking you to voice your support of my country—just to meet with me at the Chancery so we can discuss the issues. You are known to be a fair and honest man. You can make up your own mind if you think we are being unreasonable with the boundaries we are suggesting. Regardless of what you decide, you can express your opinions on the matter openly and present that print as a political satire attacking your involvement with us.’
It was not an unreasonable request. The logic behind it was sound. He hadn’t admitted to anyone today that he had actually taken a drive with Katrina. They could each move forward with their own lives and there would be no scandal associated with their names. He could have his reputation back.
‘There is one more thing, Your Grace.’
Julian cleared his vision and focused on the man across from him.
‘Whatever fascination you have with my daughter, it needs to end now—for both your sakes.’
All Julian could do was nod his agreement. Blackness was swallowing him up as he realised that he would never again know what she was thinking, or receive one of her smiles, or make her laugh.
Their time together was over.
* * *
Katrina waited until the front door had closed before she stood up from where she had been perched on the top step of the staircase.
Her father did not even have to look up. ‘He has agreed to my proposition. It is done.’
Those three little words sliced into her.
He wasn’t going to marry her.
Tonight her father gave him an easy way to avoid scandal—and he had taken it.
‘It is for the best, my dear.’
If it truly was, why did her heart feel as if it had been ripped into tiny pieces that would never be put back together? How could this be for the best when the man she loved had just walked away without even saying goodbye?
‘Men are dogs.’
Surveying a plate of sweet delicacies, while seated at a table on the terrace of Hipswitch House, Katrina wished she could openly agree with Sarah’s declaration. Unfortunately she knew that if she did, it would instigate a discussion that would open the wound she was trying desperately to heal.
She had foolishly fallen in love with a man who was more concerned with what the world thought of him than he was with her. If Julian believed she was lacking, then he deserved a life devoid of the love she could give him. She only wished she could feel that way without wanting to dissolve into a puddle of tears each time she thought of him.
Sarah leaned closer from her seat beside Katrina. ‘I said men are dogs.’
‘I heard you.’ Katrina finished her last bite of moist almond cake and eyed a small bowl of trifle.
‘Am I to receive no reply?’
The trifle looked lovely. The creamy custard and vibrant red strawberries were calling out to her. One could not take a beautifully made creation such as this and not eat it. It would be an insult to her hosts.
‘What would you have me say?’ Katrina said, scooping up a large spoonful.
Sarah sipped her champagne and silently watched Katrina savour every last bit of trifle in the bowl. ‘Surely you do not intend to eat those Shrewsbury cakes as well?’
Katrina’s hand froze midway to the plate containing three biscuits. She did not miss the censure in Sarah’s tone. ‘I might have thought about it.’ She shifted her hand to pick up her glass of champagne instead.
‘I am aware that you would be content to sit here and assist Lady Hipswitch in trying all the delicacies she has provided, however, it is a garden party.’ She gave the rolling lawns and hedgerows a marked glance. ‘I believe it is customary to actually venture into the garden.’
It was safer on the terrace. This was where the desserts were. Katrina liked it here. Julian might be out there somewhere.
‘Why would you want to risk the pristine condition of your slippers on grass and soil when you can sit on this lovely stone terrace and admire the view from up here?’
Sarah took another sip of champagne and sighed. ‘Because for once I have found myself in a lovely garden during the day, and I am sitting up here when I could be exploring the rose garden or the maze. Haven’t you always wanted to attempt to find your way out of a maze?’
Katrina took a Shrewsbury cake. ‘I would rather eat biscuits.’
When she went to take another, Sarah grabbed her hand. ‘This will not end well if you do not move from that chair. It is a wonder you are not complaining of stomach pains.’
She hadn’t eaten that many desserts. Had she...?
Katrina licked her lips and wiped her mouth with a pristine white napkin that now held traces of custard. ‘Oh, very well. However, should you ruin those slippers you have talked of endlessly it will not be my doing.’
Sarah stood and opened her white parasol, shading her eyes from the afternoon light. ‘I will risk these stunning silk creations just so you do not become permanently affixed to that chair.’
Before Sarah turned back, Katrina grabbed the last Shrewsbury cake and took a big bite.
‘I
