A Duke in Time (The Widow Rules #1) - Janna MacGregor Page 0,122

man who wouldn’t stop until he found her.

Finally, he stood on Kat’s front doorstep. His blood pounded thick through his veins, like it always did when the call to battle sounded. But this time it was different. His ire at Skeats and his broken heart over Kat’s disappearance combined into a maelstrom that would not be defeated.

He pounded on the knocker. If there was a God in heaven, Venetia would answer.

He lifted his hand to knock again when the door opened.

Venetia greeted him with a smile. “I was wondering when I might see you again.” She leaned close and whispered, “I can’t invite you inside and talk to you alone.”

His eyes narrowed.

Before he could ask why, Venetia stepped over the threshold, then closed the door behind her. “But no one said anything about the outside.” She winked.

“Where is she?” The yearning in his voice was unmistakable, but he didn’t care at this point.

“I can’t say.” Her brow furrowed. “But Willa told me specifically not to mention York to you.”

For the first time since the soiree, Christian could breathe again. “I thank you, madame.”

She nodded, then opened the door. Instead of walking back into the house, she turned. “Please hurry. I miss them both.”

He nodded, then turned for home. As soon as he made his way inside, he called for his sleekest carriage and fastest team of four.

By nightfall, he should be well on his way to York.

Which meant he’d soon find Katherine.

* * *

Each creak of the carriage wheels brought Katherine closer and closer to the magistrate’s office. It also took her away from Christian. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the leather squab. She couldn’t think like that. Whatever happened in the next two hours would be key to allowing her to return to him whole.

Yet, the emptiness inside her threatened to swallow her. If she wasn’t successful in getting her name cleared, then she’d have to face letting Christian go. Now she understood how people who suffered from a broken heart could wither away.

She wouldn’t think like that. It would work. For once in her life, she’d face her demons and fight until the end. When she’d first arrived, she had little trouble finding Mr. FitzWilliam, who had agreed to meet with her and the magistrate.

Katherine glanced out the carriage window as the beauty of the Yorkshire countryside passed. “Do you ever miss this place?” Without waiting for Willa to reply, Katherine continued, “I used to, but not anymore. You once said we needed to find our way in the world after my mother died. It’s not here. Our way is in London.”

Willa patted Katherine’s knee like she’d done a thousand times before whenever worry had a stranglehold over Kat. “Indeed, lass. We’ll find our way back there just as we always do.” A spry smile tugged at her lips as she waggled her eyebrows. “Perhaps someday we could take a holiday along the shore. I’ve always fancied dipping my toes in the ocean. Maybe I could learn to shuck oysters. You could create a soap to chase away the fish smell.”

For the first time in five days, Kat laughed. “Oysters are not fish.”

Willa dismissed her comment with a wave of her hand. “But they come from the same smelly place.”

Katherine stared straight as a new idea percolated. “Soap-making, you say. We could make some, then sell it along with the linens.”

“That’s my girl!” Willa clapped her hands together. “A fine idea for a new endeavor.” She grew quiet for a moment. “Wish I’d taught that Skeats fellow a lesson when I had the chance.”

“You mean a lesson with your dirk?” Kat shook her head. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

Willa started to argue, but Kat held up her hand. “This is for the best. There will be others like Skeats in my life, and I can’t have you always ready to defend me with a knife.”

Willa’s interest had turned to the countryside. After a moment or two, she broke the silence. “Why didn’t you tell the duke where you’re off to?”

A pesky tear fell, and Kat wiped it away. “He would have insisted upon coming and helping me. It would become fodder for the rumormongers that he paid to cover up my conviction. That would have hurt his reputation even more than it already is.”

“You have to tell him, lass.”

“Of course, I will. But I have to do this on my own,” Kat said softly. She was tired of feeling sorry for herself. It was exhausting.