A Duke in Time (The Widow Rules #1) - Janna MacGregor Page 0,52

movement, she swept her lips against his.

His heart pounded so hard, he thought it would break through his ribs. At the touch of her lips against his, Christian cupped her face to deepen the kiss.

“Is anyone here?” a voice rang out.

At the sound, Katherine instantly pulled away. “Of all the rotten luck,” she said under her breath.

“Who is it?” His voice had the roughness of sandpaper. Such was the effect of Katherine on him.

“The devil’s own spawn,” she hissed. “It’s Skeats.”

* * *

Kat smoothed her dress, but it did nothing to slow her pounding pulse, not to mention her slight panting. She was in trouble if such a small kiss could provoke such a strong reaction. She took a deep breath and prayed she didn’t appear out of sorts.

Her competitor was horrible. For his timing, his interruption, and his general disposition. “Marlen Skeats is my main competition for the Prince Regent’s business,” she whispered to Christian.

“We should greet him.” He gently pushed a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

His light touch caused her pulse to pound even harder. But the calmness in his gaze provided some much-needed poise. With a decisive nod, she turned and went to face her nemesis.

Not that she couldn’t handle her competitor, but it was nice to have Christian beside her. “Good day, Mr. Skeats,” she called out.

“Good morning, Lady Meriwether. A vision as always.” Though the words were harmless, they sounded much like a snake’s hiss before it attacked. Tall with red hair and a ruddy complexion to match, Marlen Skeats reminded her of a balloon she’d once seen. They were both filled with hot air.

“What a surprise to meet you here.” Kat caught herself before she started twisting her fingers together.

“Is it really? I’m certain we’re here for the same reason.” He smiled, but it held little humor.

She huffed a silent breath, then turned to Christian. “Your Grace, this is Marlen Skeats. He owns a fine bedding shop similar to mine.”

Christian didn’t extend his hand for the customary shake. Instead, he swept his arms behind his back, making himself look menacing. He nodded once in acknowledgment.

“Mr. Skeats, may I present the Duke of Randford?”

“Your Grace.” Skeats bowed deeply with an effusive greeting that made her stomach churn. He didn’t fool anyone. “It’s an honor to meet an officer of your caliber.”

Christian stood motionless, but his eyes narrowed.

Skeats, who was completely oblivious to Christian’s unfriendliness, took a quick glance around the room. “This place is perfect.” He smiled and addressed his comments to Christian. “Lady Meriwether and I are in competition for the right to outfit the Prince Regent’s Royal Pavilion.” He turned to Katherine. “The real reason I’m here is to see about letting this space when I receive the contract.” He noticeably paused. “I meant if I’m the successful winner.” He tilted his head and offered a sickly sweet smile.

Katherine resisted the urge to smirk at his insincerity.

“I’m afraid you’re too late, sir.” Christian’s deep voice sharpened. “We’ve already taken the space.”

“We?” Skeats’s eyes grew round.

“Lady Meriwether is helping me organize a charity business for my men who’ve returned from war in need of employment.” Christian eased his rigid stance and edged closer to Kat.

For the first time since Skeats’s arrival, she relaxed somewhat. As much as one could when in her competitor’s presence.

“You’ll have to look elsewhere,” Christian said.

“Such benevolence on your part, Your Grace. Well, I guess you’ve proven that the early bird catches the worm.” Skeats’s gaze narrowed, then extended a hand to Kat. “May I see your handkerchief? Is that your handiwork?”

“Yes.” Kat extended the cloth she’d used to clean the cobweb from Christian’s face.

“What exquisite needlework.” Her competitor examined it for several moments. “Not a stitch out of place.” His thumb traced the simple pattern of a flower that Kat had learned from her mother. Eventually, he handed it back to her. “Beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She placed it in her pocket. “If you’ll excuse us? We’ve another appointment.”

“Of course.” Skeats walked toward the door. Halfway there, he turned on the ball of his foot and faced them. “Lady Meriwether, I’ve seen that pattern before, but I can’t recall where. It’s very unusual.” He tapped his finger against his lips. “May I ask where you found such a thing?”

Everything within Kat stilled to a grounding halt. How could she have been so careless? The pattern was a variation of the Yorkshire rose. It was the first pattern her mother had taught her. Only on her personal possessions did