scream. The problem was she cared too much. She cared that right at that very moment he was probably telling himself he was better off without her. He would never want this kind of attention cast his way.
She thought she heard a knock, but she wasn’t certain since she was still squashing the pillow over her head. Tossing it aside, she sat up and looked at her door. There was another knock, and Katrina groaned at the intrusion. It was probably Meg, trying to get her to have some tea. What she really needed was something a bit more fortifying. This would be an excellent time to try the brandy her father kept in his study. Perhaps if she drank enough of it she would forget this day had ever happened.
The knocking grew louder. She slid off the bed and trudged to her door. Opening it slightly, she jumped when a foot encased in gold silk damask pushed its way inside.
‘If you close this door on my new slipper I shall be vexed.’
Katrina closed her eyes and took a deep breath, preparing herself for Sarah. Opening the door wider, she invited her friend inside and locked the door behind them.
Sarah tugged off her white kid gloves and tossed them carelessly onto the rumpled bed. Spinning around, she ran her gaze over Katrina.
Brushing the wetness away from her face, Katrina avoided Sarah’s piercing stare. The last thing she wanted was to see pity in her friend’s eyes.
‘You look as if a bear has sat on your head.’
‘Forgive me. Had I known you were planning on calling I would have been sure to have Meg arrange an elaborate coiffure.’
Sarah made her way over to the window and sat at Katrina’s dressing table. Picking up a brush, she appeared to study the monogram engraved into the silver. ‘If anyone enquires if I have been here this evening, please inform them that you have not seen me.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I was told quite firmly not to disturb you.’
‘By whom?’
Sarah tapped the brush in her palm. ‘My mother. Luckily your very proper English butler has taken a shine to me, otherwise I don’t know when I would have seen you next.’
Katrina trudged back to her bed and sat on the edge across from Sarah. ‘I am not very good company right now.’
‘So I can see. I knew you’d take this to heart. But it might not be as horrid as you think.’
‘Of 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
