that moment when they had stood in his room, her anger transmuting into sensual awareness, and she began to wonder if, after all, he had felt it too. And anyway, she scolded herself, what if he had? Feelings of physical desire were far removed from love, and love was the only possible reason she could think of for a marquis to stay married to a nobody who had wed him out of her own extremity.
On the afternoon of the ball Nick’s new valet Cuthbertson and Jenny transported their burdens of carefully wrapped evening attire, accessories, brushes and colognes and installed themselves in Nick’s suite and the adjoining rooms at the house. Nick had announced that it would be much simpler if they dressed for the ball there and spent what would remain of the night as well.
‘That should make it easier for Lady Fanny to appear to be chaperoning me,’ Katherine remarked. ‘It will appear to those who are staying over that I am simply another guest.’
‘Yes, that too,’ Nick said vaguely, surprising Katherine, who had imagined that would be the main reason behind his decision.
She shut herself away with Jenny after luncheon, turning the key firmly in the lock in both the outside door and the door that led from her dressing room into Nick’s; she wanted no interruptions, and certainly she did not want Nick to witness any stage in the transformation she was hoping to achieve.
‘I shall have a rest for two hours, if I can sleep,’ she decided, feeling as though she would never be able to close her eyes. ‘Then I will have my bath and wash my hair—that should give it long enough to dry, do you think?’
Jenny calculated. ‘What time is dinner?’
‘Seven tonight. Lady Fanny thought I had better go down at about half past six with her. I do not want to give the impression I am one of the family; simply a guest.’
‘That should give us plenty of time,’ Jenny decided. ‘I’ll take the gown to press now and make sure we get a bath and hot water brought up in two hours—there is sure to be quite a demand! ‘
She helped Katherine out of her gown and stays and under the coverlet, drew the curtains closed and bore off the precious gown in a rustle of tissue.
Left alone, Katherine shut her eyes and tried to compose herself to rest, but sleep proved elusive. She was not used to dozing in the middle of the day and the morning had hardly proved so tiring that she needed a rest. Her mind was buzzing with excitement, apprehension and anticipation.
Would Nick think her beautiful in her new gown? Would he dance with her? As the elder son of the house, his duty would be to dance with the most senior ladies and with the most eligible young ones and not to spend his time with unknown and obscure girls under the wing of his cousin. Anything else, she resolutely told herself, would draw the sort of attention to her that she most hoped to avoid.
Would anyone ask her to dance? Surely someone would, she thought doubtfully, speculating about the sort of guests who would attend a ducal ball. She had seen the pile of acceptances that had flooded in despite the short notice; surely amongst them would be some young gentlemen who would not be so high in the instep as to ignore humble Miss Cunningham?
Her eyelids began to droop and she fell into a state that was half-doze, half-nightmare. Nick, looking distinguished, handsome, every inch the marquis, was dancing with a succession of well-dowered, haughty, exquisite young ladies, while their titled parents looked on with delight. Meanwhile, Miss Cunningham sat with the other wallflowers, grateful for an occasional country dance with a shy youth or possibly his Grace’s archivist.
She woke with a headache, feeling utterly cast down. Miserably she kicked back the covers and rubbed her forehead. Jenny would be back in a minute, it would never do to be found moping like this.
What was the matter with her? She tried to rally her spirits. You are perfectly respectable, presentable and socially adept, she scolded herself. You can run a household, cope with debts, confront a highwayman. Have a little courage! But deep down she felt out of her depth, uncertain …
‘Whatever’s the matter, Miss Katherine?’ Jenny was back in the room without her noticing. ‘Why such a Sad Susan! Anyone would think you were going to the dentist, not to a great ball!’
‘I am terrified,’ Katherine confessed, startled into frankness. ‘I will not know anyone except the family and a very few of their professional advisers—and I cannot reveal how well I know them. I have never been to any occasion so lavish or with such grand guests.’
‘And your lord must pretend he hardly knows you,’ Jenny said, shrewdly getting to the heart of the matter. ‘Do not worry so, he will not let you sink, nor will Lord Robert, nor his Grace, come to that.’
‘What if I let them down?’ Katherine said anxiously.
‘This is beyond anything foolish,’ Jenny scolded. ‘You are equal to anything—look how you saved the master.’
‘I did not have to do it under the critical gaze of dozens of society ladies,’ Katherine retorted with a rueful smile, beginning to feel better.
‘Look,’ said Jenny, peering out of the window. ‘Carriages are arriving; it must be the guests who are staying over. There are two very plain redheads, a portly gentleman, and—oh, Miss Katherine, look at him! ‘
The man in question, as Katherine saw as she very reprehensibly joined her maid at the window, was tall, broad shouldered, and, so far as one could see from the first floor, extremely personable.
‘Stop staring,’ Katherine reproved hypocritically. Now, if that gentleman were to ask her to dance, it could not fail to stir a pang of jealousy in Nick’s breast. She made a decision: tonight she was not going to think common-sense thoughts, she was not going to be sensible, she was going to enjoy every moment, savour every opportunity to shine in her husband’s eyes.
‘And never mind tomorrow,’ she said mutinously just as there was a tap on the door.
‘That’ll be the bathtub, Miss Katherine,’ Jenny said, shooing her behind the screen before letting in two perspiring footmen with the tub and a procession of chambermaids with hot water. ‘In there,’ she directed, waving towards the dressing room.
On the other side of the connecting door, Nick paused and put down the knife with which he was paring his nails. The sound of cascading water reached him through the thick panels and he listened, head cocked on one side, to the muffled sounds.
Jenny’s voice, a rumble of answering male voices—the footmen. Silence, then swishing, more pouring. Adjusting the temperature, he thought, closing his eyes to better follow the unfolding scene just feet away. Jenny’s voice again, then Kat’s. Silence, then a laughing protest and more pouring—the water was too hot or too cold. A splash and Jenny’s voice, suddenly perfectly audible, ‘You’ve got it all over the floor, Miss Katherine! This tub is far too shallow.’ She was answered by laughter and another splash.
The image the words conjured up of Kat sitting, quite naked, in a shallow bath tub just feet away was so erotic that Nick found himself on his feet, one hand on the door handle, before he caught himself.
With a rueful shake of his head he turned on his heel, picked up the paring knife and retreated into his bedchamber, shutting the door softly behind himself. Control, that was what the situation demanded, he reminded himself as his new valet advanced ominously with a towel and a pair of scissors. ‘Just a little at the nape and behind the ears, my lord.’ Cuthbertson did not approve of his lordship’s
