A Duke in Time (The Widow Rules #1) - Janna MacGregor Page 0,31
hem,” Helen argued, then her voice softened. “I really want you to attend. For me? Will you consider it?”
“No, I’d feel like a poor relation. It’s impossible.” But suddenly, an idea took root. Kat could put together an ensemble that would be appropriate for such a dinner party hosted by the Earl and Countess of Woodhaven. With her inventory of lace, velvet, and brocades for the custom pillows and bolsters she made, one of her mother’s old dresses could easily be transformed into an appropriate evening gown. Her employees were too busy with the shop’s orders to help. But if Constance and Beth could sew, it would make the impossible easily conceivable.
Such logic made the decision easy.
“On second thought, I’ll come,” she said decisively.
“Marvelous, darling.” Helen took both of Kat’s hands in hers and smiled.
“Besides, it’s only fair. If the duke doesn’t follow the strictures of mourning, then why should I?” Kat declared with a nod.
* * *
“What’s good enough for the Duke of Randford is good enough for me,” Katherine murmured to herself as she carefully wiped the mud off her shoes after she entered the door to her home. Repeating the phrase one hundred times on her walk home was slowly helping convince her of that fact.
Yet the truth niggled deep down inside. She was still a bastard and he was still a duke. Worse, she was still a fraud, a woman pretending to be a lady, and he was still a duke.
“There you are, Kat.” Willa met her at the door with a loving smile. “Your guests are in the sitting room enjoying a little something before dinner.”
Katherine took a deep breath. “The house smells wonderful. What are we having?”
At that particular moment, her stomach rumbled with the intensity of a small earthquake.
Willa narrowed her eyes. “You missed luncheon again, didn’t you, lass?” She shook her head as she hung up Katherine’s pelisse. “I’m serving chicken curry soup, breaded sole with capers, and a lovely raisin rum pudding.”
“I’m lucky to have you.” Katherine kissed Willa on the cheek quickly. “Not only are you a brilliant medicine woman, but a superb chef. I mustn’t let the duke know about your hidden talents or he’ll steal you away.”
Willa laughed slightly. “His performance with Poison Blossom made me take notice. But never fear losing me to him. His valet is more to my taste. He came over for me to check his healing.”
“How is Mr. Morgan today?” Katherine asked as she untied her bonnet, then hung it on the rack.
“I swear that young man has a lightheartedness in his step that was missing two days ago.” Willa took Katherine’s arm as she escorted her down the hall. “But he has trouble at night. The war haunts him.” She shook her head, then smiled gently. “If I were a few years younger, I’d go after the lad myself,” she whispered as they arrived at the sitting room.
“What does age have anything to do with soul mates?” Katherine teased.
“Don’t tempt me, lass,” Willa answered.
Constance and Beth looked up at the same time.
“Katherine, you’re home.” Constance tried to push herself off the low-seated sofa.
“Don’t bother,” Katherine answered as she waved her to stay put. “I’ll come to you.” She took the seat opposite the other wives.
Beth shut the book she’d been reading, then scooted to the edge of her chair. “How was your day?”
“Lovely and busy.” Katherine picked up a biscuit that was a leftover from the earlier tea the two women had shared. She finished the delicious treat in two bites then wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Where is your aunt?”
Constance pursed her lips slightly. “Upstairs resting.”
Katherine nodded as she brushed the crumbs from her hands.
Beth turned her green-eyed gaze to Katherine’s. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did the duke want a private conversation with you?”
“Of course, and I don’t think he’d object if I shared it with you. He wanted my help with establishing a business for out-of-work soldiers. He offered to pay me a handsome sum that would help me prepare for when the Secretary to the First Lady of the Bedchamber comes to inspect my shop and factory.” She blew out a breath, upsetting a loose piece of hair across her face. “I could use the money, but I don’t have the time to devote to his project.”
“Will you refuse the offer?” Constance asked.
“I’m afraid so.”
Beth leaned against the sofa and regarded Kat. “What would you need to say yes to him?”