Blame It on Bath Page 0,71

Cora tilted her head. “I always envied the name Katherine. I should have liked to be called Kate.”

“My husband is the only one who calls me that.”

Cora laughed, with a conspiratorial wrinkling of her nose. “How endearing!”

“Yes.” Katherine thought about it. It was endearing that he gave her a nickname. At first it sounded odd and overly familiar, but now she liked the sound of it. It drew a bright line between somber, retiring Lady Howe and this new Lady Gerard, who had arrived on the arm of the handsomest man in town and had a partner for every dance. Tonight she felt much more like Kate than prim Katherine. On impulse she turned to Cora. “Perhaps you will call me Kate as well.”

Cora blinked, then smiled anew. “With pleasure.”

Yes. She took a deep breath and said the name to herself, testing it. Not Katherine, but Kate. It sounded warmer, happier, simple but lovely. From now on, she resolved to be that new person she had somehow become tonight, and name herself accordingly.

Chapter 16

Bringing Kate out for the evening was half-brilliant, half-idiotic.

On the positive side, his wife had never looked better. No one would call her a beauty, but tonight . . . well, tonight she was quite fetching, to tell the truth. He’d been right that a decent dress would make a world of difference, but he’d had no idea how much. The dull brown dress she once called her best made her look pale and skinny. Even Gerard, who knew every curve of her body, was astonished at how the new blue gown made the most of her slim figure. He was sure he wasn’t the only man entranced by her newly displayed bosom, perfectly set off by the amethyst pendant. Certainly the number of gentlemen who appeared to solicit an invitation and a dance did nothing to diminish that belief. He felt the fierce satisfaction of a speculator who’d bought a piece of land for its rich soil, only to discover a large vein of coal ran through it as well. He would have been satisfied with the marriage if it only brought him a fortune and a wife who didn’t trouble him much; instead he had the fortune, a surprisingly pleasing marital bed, and now a rather handsome wife as well.

Unfortunately that wasn’t the only result of the evening’s expedition. Within half an hour of walking through the doors, that cursed phrase caught his ear: the Durham Dilemma. At first he tried to ignore it and concentrate on his wife’s obvious delight in the evening, but it stuck in his mind like a bramble. He tried to talk to Carter, who’d been helping him make a few discreet inquiries about town, but the murmurs seemed to circle around him like smoke from a fetid fire, subtly poisoning the air.

Gerard hadn’t ordered the newspapers on purpose. He hadn’t gone out in society, also on purpose. He had done his best to be unremarkable and uninteresting in Bath, some hundred miles from London, and still his father’s sordid secret plagued him. He’d known that was probably inevitable, but damn it all, he would have preferred not to have it spoil this night.

His temper built at a slow burn until he couldn’t take it anymore. If he caught one more man staring at him with avid curiosity and delighted shock in his gaze, he’d put his fist through something—or someone. He scanned the room, and saw Kate dancing with yet another fellow, smiling happily as they stepped through the quadrille. At least she seemed spared the tarnish of the scandal so far. He muttered a word to Carter and left the ballroom, hoping a bit of fresh air would cool the fury boiling inside him.

It was deserted under the shelter of the portico. A cool, misty rain had begun falling and steamed down the sides of the building, trailing into the gutters. The drops were so fine, they made only a muted whisper. A passing horse splashed by, its hooves clattering on the wet streets. He took a deep breath and let it out, wishing he weren’t so powerless. He had left London determined to do something to solve the problem and only found himself following one blind lead after another. What a fine joke it would be on him if he spent weeks chasing phantoms, and his brother Edward’s legal strategy tidied up the problem without any need to find the blackmailer. He ran one hand over his