Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1. Louise Allen

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have no reason to be jealous of what you do, sir—we are, after all, nothing to each other.’ That hurt, an unexpected swipe of her claws. ‘We have nothing emotional between us,’ she corrected meticulously. ‘Naturally I am deeply grateful to you for your help with my debt, but that does not mean I wish to arrive on your father’s doorstep after having had to spend two or three nights sleeping in this coach because you have spent our resources on expensive inns and gambling on cock fights.’

      Now he was beginning to sense what was upsetting her. ‘We have enough money,’ he assured her. ‘The inns north of here are far from luxurious and I do not gamble on cock fights. I bet little these days,’ he added, meeting her disbelieving stare. ‘Real life produces more interesting games of chance.’ And he recalled only too clearly the time when his entire livelihood depended on his skill with cards to want to repeat the experience for amusement.

      Kat produced the enchanting sound he thought of as her infuriated kitten noise. ‘Will you not tell me what is really upsetting you?’ he pressed.

      ‘Very well.’ The sparkle in her eyes was more anger than unshed tears now. ‘I am about to arrive—penniless—on your family’s doorstep, knowing not the first thing about them other than that your return is likely to be difficult for all concerned. Not only have you married without your father’s blessing to someone completely unknown to him, but I bring with me a vast debt and the prospect of disgrace and scandal. However delighted he will be to see me gone from your family, he can hardly welcome the prospect of an annulment.’

      Her eyes on his face were stormy with what he realised was not only anger, but fear. Her fury was not with him, but with herself for not being able to overcome it.

      ‘Kat.’ He tried to take her hands again but she batted his away.

      ‘And I have absolutely no idea how I am going to support myself and my servants, let alone pay off this debt.’ Nick opened his mouth to speak, but she was before him. ‘And I do not mean I want you to help me. This is my problem and my debt. All I meant was that I would have welcomed discussing it so that I have some plan to lay before your father. I would not have him thinking I will be a burden upon him for the world.’

      ‘You do not think that saving his son’s life entitles you to some support and assistance?’ Nick enquired mildly.

      ‘I did not help you because I wanted a pension! And to accept being a burden simply because of an act any Christian person would see as their duty …’

      That was another swipe from her claws, and one she did not even realise she had delivered. ‘So you rescued me simply out of a sense of duty?’

      ‘Of course.’ Her head was averted now, but her chin was still up. ‘I believed in your innocence and you had treated me much better than my foolish actions deserved.’ Suddenly she moved to face him, reaching out her hands to take his. ‘I am sorry to subject you to my megrims. But I feel better for that outburst, I have to confess. Nick, please tell me something of what to expect.’

      Her ungloved hands in his were small, soft, vulnerable, yet, as his fingers closed over them, he felt their strength and determination too. He sought for some words to satisfy her that would yet leave all the difficult matters untouched. Soon he was going to have to sacrifice his pride and confront the past, but not yet, and by then he hoped she would have given up this nonsense of an annulment.

      ‘My father married twice,’ he began slowly. ‘His first marriage was childless and his wife died when he was forty. He married my mother a few years later and he was forty-five when I was born.’ He watched her attempting to calculate his own age and did the addition for her. ‘He is now seventy-three. Not possibly the most flexible of ages for dealing with prodigal sons. I have a younger brother, Robert, who was obedient where I was rebellious, dutiful where I was arrogant, sober where I was a rake.’

      ‘Were you?’ She was leaning forward, engrossed in his story, her hands still trustingly in his, her eyes alight with interest. ‘I’ve always wanted to meet a rake.’

      ‘Well, you are married to one,’ he responded somewhat grimly.

      ‘And your father? Has he lands? Or an occupation? The church perhaps?’

      Katherine was entranced by the sudden flash of humour that transformed Nick’s face, the first real smile she had seen for days from him. She smiled back, not in on the joke, but happy that he was amused. ‘What is so funny?’

      ‘The thought of my father in the church. Now Robert would make an excellent cleric, that I can believe. No, my father … farms.’

      ‘A large farm?’ He was telling her so much she did not want him to stop now.

      Again, that flash of amusement. ‘Yes. Large. But up in Northumberland that is the way of things. The land is less fertile and the climate hard, so you need more land.’

      She thought she was beginning to understand. ‘And you did not want to be a farmer?’ She could believe that; all that energy and pride and courage would not sit well with the need to worry about the spring sowing or the routine of stock raising. ‘He will be glad to have you back,’ she said gently. ‘He is an old man now, he will need your help. What would have happened if you had never gone back?’

      ‘If I had dangled for a few more minutes from that rope, you mean? Or simply continued on my undutiful way?’ There was the darkness back in his eyes and unconsciously she tightened her grip on his hands. ‘After seven years of no news I could be presumed dead in law—Robert would become the heir. Doubtless he would make a much better fist of it than I.’

      ‘Do you not like your brother?’ His voice had been bitter.

      ‘Like him? I love him, no one could fail to. I was not being sarcastic—he truly should have been born first. He was a good boy, he will be a good man now.’

      Katherine’s heart twisted. So much bitterness, so much pride.’ You are a good man,’ she said impulsively, lifting her hands so they brought his up against her cheek. She met his eyes, dark and intent on hers, saw the harsh twist of his mouth soften and the sensual lips curve into a smile.

      ‘You are a sweetheart Kat,’ he said softly, opening his fingers so they spread on her cheek, cradling it gently. ‘So sweet.’

      Something inside her slipped, moved. She felt dizzy for a moment—surely her heart should not be beating like this? Then she turned her face instinctively into his caressing hand and met his eyes. It hit her with the force of a blow. She was in love with Nicholas Lydgate. In love with her husband who was no husband and who must never be.

       Chapter Eleven

      Katherine knew she should move away from those gentling hands, break contact with those expressive eyes. Nicholas must not know how she felt or she was certain he would feel honour bound to their strange marriage.

      She broke eye contact with an effort that left her breathless and sat back in her seat, releasing his hands as she did so. ‘They will be so happy to see you again,’ she said firmly with a bright smile. The feel of it on her lips reminded her of the determined smile she used to use to assure her younger brother that he had nothing to fear from a visit to the tooth-puller. Inside she had an unpleasant feeling that it was just as false a hope that Nick’s

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