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"But...you...I've heard you sing."
"I can carry a tune, and play a piece or two on the pianoforte, nothing more. I wouldn't begin to know how to compose an original piece."
Kate shook her head. "Why on earth earth would you pretend such a thing?" would you pretend such a thing?"
"Because musical apt.i.tude was a requirement for an invitation to Baroness Cederstrom's salon. And an invitation to the salon was a requirement for spying on a possible traitor..."
Mr. Laury trailed off, glanced out the crack in the door and held up a hand for quiet. The three of them stood in silence for a moment before Mr. Laury turned to them once more and grinned. "She's off, which means I am as well. Lady Kate, Mr. Hunter, it's been a pleasure."
As quickly and quietly as Mr. Laury had appeared, he was gone.
Kate blinked at the empty doorway. "I...Good heavens. Mr. Laury, an agent. I can scarce believe..." Her eyes moved to him. "You knew."
"I did." Hunter shut the door softly. "I didn't want you to seek him out. You weren't to be involved, remember?"
Kate frowned at him. "You could have simply ordered me not to speak with him."
"Awareness can be communicated with more than words. Mr. Laury would have known."
Kate pressed her lips together for a moment in obvious annoyance. "There is no way for me to counter that without positing the argument that I am a skilled actress."
Hunter swallowed down a chuckle and stepped forward to bend his head and catch her eye. "I didn't want to risk anyone learning of your involvement. I didn't want to risk you being sent back to Haldon. I wanted you here, with me. Would you like me to apologize for being selfish?"
She ran her tongue across her teeth. "Are you attempting to charm yourself out of trouble?"
"Possibly." He gave her a hopeful smile. "Is it working?"
"Possibly," she conceded with a twitch of her lips. "I'll have to think on the matter." She gestured at the closed door. "What happens, now, to the letter, and Miss Willory?"
"Mr. Laury will trail Miss Willory. The letter will be confiscated, its intended recipient apprehended. Miss Willory will likely be exiled."
"And her family?"
"They may join her, if they like."
Kate was quiet a moment before speaking. "She did this to save them."
"You feel badly for her?"
She looked down and fiddled with the tie of her wrap. "You told me there are some things people will do anything to keep. Miss Willory wants to keep her family solvent. It may not be a n.o.ble cause, but she's never known another life. I imagine she feels she had no other choice."
"She did." There were times a person found himself completely out of choices, he knew. But this was not one of those times. "She had other options. More than most."
"Yes, I know." She blew out a short breath. "The smuggling...that is why she did those things. Broke the piano bench, encouraged Mr. Potsbottom, and sabotaged my tack. She was afraid Lord Martin would tell me of the smuggling."
Hunter ground his teeth. "I find my limited sympathy has flagged."
She smiled a little at that. "What of Lord Martin?"
"I suspect his punishment will be minor, given that he appears to be innocent of treason in his intentions. But it's up to William."
She nodded and went back to thoughtfully toying with her wrap. It was a long and flowing concoction of ivory, covering her from neck to toe. He wanted to reach out to pull the tie loose and slide the material from her shoulders. Then he wanted to loosen the thick braid of pale hair that fell down her back and use handfuls of it to pull her in for a kiss. But more than that, he wanted to have the conversation he'd asked her for in the parlor.
The idea of it brought on a sudden and unexpected case of nerves. Excitement, he corrected, he was excited. excited. It was antic.i.p.ation that had him stalling. He was within moments of seeing his plan come to fruition. He was within minutes of acquiring the hand of Lady Kate Cole. It was antic.i.p.ation that had him stalling. He was within moments of seeing his plan come to fruition. He was within minutes of acquiring the hand of Lady Kate Cole.
Only she'd ceased, at some point, to be just another, or even the ultimate, acquisition for him. He couldn't put his finger on when it had happened, or how it had happened. He only knew that it had. There was no denying the terror he'd felt when he'd seen her horse charge toward the bluffs, nor the staggering relief that had washed over him when he'd pulled her safely into his arms.
He was attached to Kate, there could be no mistake. Which was not to be confused with in love with her. She was important to him, and it followed that her well-being was of concern to him, but he was not in love. He would never be in love.
But perhaps it was best he felt more for her than he allowed himself to feel for others. She was to be his wife, after all. A man ought to feel a little bit...well, more more for his wife. He intended to feel more for any children they might have. Not too much-children had the unfortunate characteristic of being small and fragile-but certainly more than he did, say, his cook. That was only natural. for his wife. He intended to feel more for any children they might have. Not too much-children had the unfortunate characteristic of being small and fragile-but certainly more than he did, say, his cook. That was only natural.
Moreover, Kate was of a romantic bent. She'd want something other than mild interest from her spouse. She'd be unhappy without it. She was too sensible and too much a member of the ton ton to refuse an offer of marriage now that he'd taken her innocence, but she'd not be happy in their union without some level of affection. And it had been his plan from the very start to make her happy. What good was acquiring a rare jewel and then showcasing to the world that one wasn't capable of properly caring for it? to refuse an offer of marriage now that he'd taken her innocence, but she'd not be happy in their union without some level of affection. And it had been his plan from the very start to make her happy. What good was acquiring a rare jewel and then showcasing to the world that one wasn't capable of properly caring for it?
Only he wasn't acquiring her, he reminded himself, because she wasn't an acquisition.
He resisted the urge to drag a hand through his hair. The whole business of trying to figure through what Kate was, and was not, to him made him uncomfortable. Which is why he shoved it aside.
He liked her very much. They would marry. He would make her happy. That was quite enough figuring through.
He cleared his throat. "I'd like the private audience I requested from you last night, Kate."
Kate looked up, her blue eyes rounding. "What? Now?"
"Yes. Why not?"
"Because," she replied, as if the answer were patently obvious. "I'm in my night rail."
He gestured at her. "You've been in your night rail for the past half hour or more."
"And you've had a private audience, mostly. That's not the point." She shook her head. "I'll meet you in the sitting room in half an hour."
"But-"
"It's nearly time for Lizzy to rise. If she comes in while you're here and I'm not properly clothed, it will be a disaster."
"Why don't you simply lock-?"
"The sitting room in half an hour." She moved past him to open the door. After glancing down both ends of the hall, she reached to snag his arm and propel him across the threshold. Before he could utter another word of protest, the door was shut with a soft click.
Kate dressed in ten minutes, cajoled her hair into something approaching respectable in under five, and, in an attempt to retain a bit of pride, decided to stall the remaining fifteen minutes. She brushed at the white muslin of her skirts, straightened a small stack of music on her nightstand, and occupied her mind by wondering if her suspicions were correct and Hunter was about to offer marriage. Quickly deciding that was most certainly the case, she turned her imagination toward what sort of proposal she might receive.
Something traditional, she mused. He had had made a point of formally asking for a private audience. Even if he'd then suggested she hold that audience in her night rail, it still indicated some desire for a conventional proposal. Likely he would give a small speech as well. It wouldn't be overly flowery-the man wasn't given to theatrics-but she imagined the charmer in him would see to it that it was eloquent. There was a distinct possibility there would be a hint of practicality to it as well. He was a businessman, after all. Nothing wrong with being practical about the matter, she told herself. Nothing at all. But it was matters of the heart that had her pacing the floor, twisting her fingers in the skirts she'd just smoothed, and grinning like a lunatic. made a point of formally asking for a private audience. Even if he'd then suggested she hold that audience in her night rail, it still indicated some desire for a conventional proposal. Likely he would give a small speech as well. It wouldn't be overly flowery-the man wasn't given to theatrics-but she imagined the charmer in him would see to it that it was eloquent. There was a distinct possibility there would be a hint of practicality to it as well. He was a businessman, after all. Nothing wrong with being practical about the matter, she told herself. Nothing at all. But it was matters of the heart that had her pacing the floor, twisting her fingers in the skirts she'd just smoothed, and grinning like a lunatic.
She'd found her prince. They had fallen in love. He was going to propose. It was a dream come true.
Pulling the watch he'd given her from her pocket, she noted that she had managed to stall for all of four minutes. That was really the most that should be expected of a woman in her position.
Kate walked through the house at a respectable pace, conscious of the muted sound of footsteps and sleepy voices coming from the servants' quarters. The staff would think it odd to find a guest about so early, but they would think it stranger yet to find that guest das.h.i.+ng through the halls. She reached the sitting room without meeting a soul, and after one last brush of her skirts, let herself in quietly. Hunter was standing in front of the windows, his back to the door. He turned when she entered, and to her great delight, crossed the room to take her mouth in a long, warm kiss.
It was, she decided, a perfectly lovely way to begin a proposal.
He released her mouth and taking her hand, led her to a settee by the window. "Will you sit?"
She bit her tongue to keep from laughing. Was the man nervous? He had to be, to suddenly become so formal. And she must be as well, she realized as she took her seat. She'd not uttered a syllable since she'd entered the room, and for the life of her, she couldn't think of one to utter now.
She waited while Hunter sat next to her, brushed his hands down his thighs, cleared his throat, twice, took one of her hands in his, and then finally got around to the business of speaking. "Lady Kate Cole, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"
She blinked at him. Well, that certainly was...brief. Abrupt, even. She rather thought there might be some sort of lead in to the affair. Maybe nerves had made him hasty. Maybe he simply needed a spot of encouragement.
She gave him what she hoped was an exceptionally encouraging smile. "I am delighted that you should offer, Hunter. And there is a very very strong possibility that I should like to marry you, but..." strong possibility that I should like to marry you, but..."
Oh, dear. How to go about asking for what she wanted, without sounding as if she was fis.h.i.+ng for compliments?
"But what?" Hunter prompted.
"But I...I would like to hear your reasons for offering first."
"All right," he agreed with a single nod. "To begin, I took your innocence not twenty-four hours ago."
She pulled her hand away. "That's your only reason?"
"Not my only reason, no," he was quick to reply. Unfortunately, he was just as quick to add, "But it is a a reason, a sound one." reason, a sound one."
"It could be the very best reason in the world, but it's hardly what a woman wishes to hear in a marriage proposal."
"I suppose it's not." He recaptured her hand. "Kate, darling, I have wanted you for my wife for some time. How could I not? You're the most beautiful, compa.s.sionate, and talented woman I have ever met."
It seemed fis.h.i.+ng would only net her compliments after all. Apparently, a direct approach would be necessary. "I am asking how you feel about me."
This time it was he who pulled away. "How I feel?"
"Yes," she said carefully, rather disconcerted by his reaction. "About me."
"I see." He rose from the settee suddenly, and tugged a little on his cravat. Both very bad signs. "I am very fond of you."
"Fond?" One was fond of pastries, and suns.h.i.+ne, and freshly washed linens on the bed. "Just...fond?"
"Very fond," he corrected.
"Like apple tarts," she whispered in disbelief.
"Beg your pardon?"
She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head to clear her thoughts. When she looked at him again, she was certain her feelings were evident on her face. "You feel nothing more than fondness?"
He licked his lips, another act of nerves she might have wondered at if she hadn't been preoccupied wondering at his lack of pa.s.sion.
"Should I?" he asked.
"I..." She swore she could see the edges of her vision grow red. "Should you?" "Should you?"
"What I mean is, is it necessary for us to feel more in order to wed? We've-"
"Of course it's necessary."
"Very well," he conceded on a sigh she could have done without hearing. "I have other feelings for you. I respect you. I desire you more than I have any other woman. I...I have a great deal of...of..." He cleared his throat, directed his gaze over her shoulder, and finished on a mumble. "...affection for you."
"And?" she prompted when he said nothing more.
"And what?" he asked impatiently. "Would you have me list everything I feel for you without offering me something in return?"
She was tempted to point out that she she wasn't the one who had offered a marriage proposal, but only because her feelings were raw. In all fairness, she couldn't judge him for not declaring himself if she wasn't willing to do the same. wasn't the one who had offered a marriage proposal, but only because her feelings were raw. In all fairness, she couldn't judge him for not declaring himself if she wasn't willing to do the same.
"No, of course not," she said. "You're absolutely right."
He nodded in a supremely satisfied sort of way, which was something else she could have done without. She let it pa.s.s and concentrated on the daunting challenge of admitting her love for him.
"I...I too have a great deal of respect for you." Oh, dear, this was more difficult than she'd antic.i.p.ated. "And I too feel a physical...that is..."
"You desire me," he supplied a bit dryly.
"Yes, thank you. And I...I..." She cleared her throat. "I..."
His mouth curved up in something akin to a smirk. It was all the motivation she needed. She straightened her shoulders, caught his gaze, and held it without blinking until his smirk disappeared.
And then, quite clearly, she said, "I am in love with you."
CHAPTER Twenty-three
I am in love with you. am in love with you.
Hunter went very, very still. He couldn't have heard her correctly. He couldn't have possibly. "I beg your pardon?"
Kate tipped her chin up. "I am in love with you."
Very well, he had heard her correctly.