acknowledge the practical soundness of Lucien’s arguments and quietly accept his proposal. Surely after Lord Howe, who had been more than twenty years her senior, a husband like Lucien would be a delight. He was young, handsome, and respectable. Marriage to him would allow her to stay in her home of the last ten years, retain her status, and perhaps even have children. It would please her mother, who’d grown used to life as a relation of the Viscount Howe and thought Katherine was being a silly ninny. “Who else would have you, darling?” she asked in all innocent earnestness, the last time she visited. Katherine hadn’t had an answer because, of course, probably no one much better than Lucien would have her.
But . . . Captain de Lacey was considering it. Something warm and giddy fluttered inside her stomach. Not just any man other than Lucien, but Gerard de Lacey, who could have any woman in England if he set his mind to it. Even though she knew his acceptance, if he accepted, would be because of her money and not because of her person, Katherine couldn’t completely snuff out the lingering girlish thrill at the thought of having him for her husband. She knew it was stupid; she really had no acquaintance with him, and her memory of him had already proven worthless. It might have been a terrible mistake, choosing him, but her mind refused to accept that. It wasn’t as though she’d had so many men to choose from, after all.
There was a faint scratch at the door. Birdie, most likely, come to check on her. Katherine raised her head, and called, “Come in.”
Birdie slipped into the room, a steaming cup of tea in her hand. She closed the door, then hurried over to set the cup down on the table beside Katherine. “Are you ill?” she murmured in concern. “I knew you’d catch a chill . . .”
“No, I’m just cold.” Katherine sat up with a sigh and reached for the tea. The warmth of the cup against her hands burned for a moment, then felt unbearably good. She was thoroughly chilled, not just from her secret excursion but from Lucien’s promise: within a week. So it was imperative that she sneak out of the house again in three days to hear the captain’s answer. Lucien regularly went to philosophical meetings on that night, but it was possible his impatience for the wedding would throw him off. Perhaps she should pretend a serious illness sooner, to keep him from the room. He had come looking for her tonight, when she had claimed a terrible headache. A catarrh, perhaps, or an ague. It would have to be serious enough to keep her mother from visiting but not serious enough to make her want to install a physician in the room. Her escape must be carefully planned, and quickly. She cradled the cup in both hands and raised it to her face, inhaling deeply. “Thank you, Birdie.”
The older woman gave her a meaningful look over the rim of the teacup as Katherine sipped the scalding tea. She knew the thanks were for more than just tea. “Regrets?”
“None.” There was no hesitation in her answer. Lucien had driven away any trace of regret.
Birdie sighed, lines of tension appearing across her forehead. “I hope this proceeds as you wish, madam.”
Katherine thought of the captain again, from his long, confident stride to the charming way his mouth curled at the corners when he was amused. She felt again the force of Lucien’s stare as he told her to accept the inevitable. The captain didn’t love her, or even know her; but unlike Lucien, someday he might. And Katherine knew that if he did come to like her, perhaps even care for her a little, she could love him back. She was already halfway there, when he barely knew her name. She would have to guard herself carefully around him in case his feelings never progressed past gratitude and gentlemanly consideration, but that little kernel of hope, of possibility, was enough. “So do I, Birdie,” she whispered. “So do I.”
Chapter 4
Gerard set off toward London early the next morning. Late into the night he had been torn between laughing off Katherine Howe’s odd proposal and going on his way in search of the blackmailer, and taking advantage of her desperation to snatch up a rich wife while she still wanted him. It appeared to be a circular problem: as long as