and I don’t know how to fix it.”
Nick frowned. “What have you done?”
James sat back and exhaled. “Katherine doesn’t know about the committee vote.”
Nick stared at him, not comprehending.
“Because I didn’t tell her,” James clarified.
Nick’s brows shot up. “You didn’t tell her? But the committee voted before you— Good God.” Another long stare, while the implications settled in. “So she thinks she’s married you out of necessity.”
James tightened his lips. For the millionth time he rechoreographed that day in Dunscore. This time, instead of going to Lord Deal, he’d gone to find Katherine and told her everything.
But if he had, he’d be alone now.
“And I fancied myself a fool with Clarissa,” Nick said, shaking his head. “You’ll have a hell of a time hiding it now. Too many people know what happened and when.” He reached for his coffee. “Can’t you simply grovel and tell her you love her?”
“She’ll hardly believe it now.”
“More likely she’ll skewer your testicles with that cutlass of hers and hang ’em from her mainmast as she sails back where she came from.”
And wasn’t that the truth.
“But if there’s anything I can do,” Nick added.
James shook his head. “I have to tell her. If she doesn’t hear it from me, she’ll hear it from someone else. And I definitely don’t want to face the result if that happens.”
NEARLY AN HOUR after James left, Katherine was on her way downstairs when someone called at the door. It would be Honoria and Phil, of course, returning to learn every last detail.
Instead, Bates admitted the Duke of Winston.
“May I offer my congratulations,” he said as Katherine descended the stairs. “It would seem London’s most ravishing pirate has finally been captured.”
She surveyed his rakish black hair, his burgundy coat embroidered with a gold-and-black geometric pattern, and the sword that hung at his side. “I prefer to think of myself as having made a strategic defensive move,” she told him.
He glanced at her hip as she joined him in the entrance hall. “At least reassure me you are unarmed this evening?”
She raised her brows and curved her lips a little.
“Very well.” He grinned. “I shall be on my best behavior.”
“And instead of your congratulations,” she added meaningfully, “I would prefer your apologies.”
He laughed. “Very well. You may have those, as well. And if there is ever a way I can make it up to you, you have only to name it. I confess to being on the blackguard side of things when it comes to beautiful women—and you are spectacularly beautiful, Lady Dunscore.” His eyes flashed wickedly. “Forgive me. Lady Croston. Would seem Croston’s a bit on the blackguard side of things, too. Should have suspected he fancied you for himself, for all he kept trying to fob you off on everyone else.”
Fob her off?
“Never would have suited with any of them, I daresay. Although, if you should ever grow tired of Croston and care to, shall we say, expand your horizons...”
“I shall certainly keep you in mind,” she said.
“Excellent. I need a few words with Croston. Is he at home?”
“No. He’s gone out.”
“And left you here alone? The man must have lost his mind.” Wicked thoughts sparkled like dark jewels in his eyes.
“Either that, or he wishes to make sure the committee is in no doubt as to our marriage.”
His brows flicked downward, but he smiled. “Rest assured, the committee was quite adamant in its decision. And for the record, I voted in your favor.”
Voted? In her favor? Her mind scrambled to make sense of what he said. “I am flattered, Your Grace,” she managed. “The committee has made a decision already?”
He cocked his head. “Surely you knew.”
Her blood ran cold. “News is sometimes slow in traveling to Dunscore, and I was only there a few days.” Her mind reeled. “You’re saying the committee reported in my favor.”
Something like alarm lit his eyes. “I would hate to rob Croston of the pleasure of telling you himself,” the duke said smoothly.
“When was the decision made?” she demanded.
He held up a hand. “Please—Croston will have my head if I discuss this with you further.”
“When was the decision made?”
“If you’ll excuse me, that light in your eye makes me damned nervous.” He bowed hastily. “Good evening—a pleasure, as always.”
* * *
LONG AFTER SHE and Miss Bunsby had put Anne to bed, Katherine waited in the library at James’s desk. She sat in near darkness in the giant leather armchair that had been crafted for comfortable arrogance. The only light came from a fire that had burned low but still cracked and flickered. She smoothed her hands across an expanse of mahogany that screamed of power. Command.
Her own power and command lay buried beneath a heart that ached so badly she could hardly breathe.
That night on the ramparts, she’d told him things she’d never thought she would tell anyone. Things she hadn’t even told William because he, with the brutal captivity he had suffered, would not understand.
James did not understand, either. She’d been thinking perhaps that was all right. That perhaps it had been unfair of her to ask him to try.
No, not unfair.
Unfair was James lying to her. Taking advantage of her ignorance after she’d given herself to him so completely.
A footman carrying a note to her solicitor had quickly confirmed the date of the committee’s decision. Bates had claimed not to remember when James had left for Dunscore, but one of the stable boys had proved less forgetful.
James had known. He’d bloody known what it meant to her, and he’d still tricked her into marriage.
She brought her hand down hard on the desk, relishing the sting. James may have thought himself powerful, but starting tonight the power in this marriage belonged to her. What she had given James of herself she would take back.
An hour passed—perhaps more—before she heard him talking to Bates in the entry. She
