Blame It on Bath Page 0,87

feel a bit of sympathy for him now that she wasn’t subjected to his presence every day.

The only dark cloud was the Durham Dilemma, which had already reached into every drawing room in Bath. Kate heard snippets of it at every event they attended although she ignored each mention of it with cool civility. Those rumors didn’t bother her much, as she had expected them. The gossip about her husband escorting another woman, however, was another story.

Mama inadvertently revealed it one morning over tea. “Lucien does wish you might persuade Captain de Lacey to speak with him,” she said. “He tried again yesterday when he met the captain out riding with Lady Stanley, and the captain was very cold and refused him.”

Kate paused. She didn’t know Lady Stanley, but she knew of her. She was a very handsome, very bold widow with a nice fortune. She was also very energetic and renowned for her passion for riding—both horses and men. “The captain surely means what he says to Lucien.”

“Lucien was afraid, my dear, that he interrupted something between the two of them. He said they were deep in warm conversation when he came upon them. He returned quite embarrassed about the matter.” Mama sipped her tea. “Won’t you have a word with Captain de Lacey?”

Kate’s hands were cold around the teacup. She set it down. She’d been wrong the last time she saw him with a woman, that day in Milsom Street when he walked with Cora. Gerard hadn’t mentioned Lady Stanley, though, and he told her all about Cora. “I will think about it, Mama,” she murmured in response to her mother’s question.

Mama smiled. “I knew you were still my sensible Katherine in spite of these new ways of yours. Lucien will be so grateful, my dear.”

After Mama left, Kate returned to the sitting room. She told herself there was no evidence Gerard was seeing Lady Stanley. He still escorted her out every evening and slept in her bed every night. They talked more as well, and Kate felt they were happy together; she certainly was. If he was having an affair, he must be doing it very quietly. But . . . warm conversation? In spite of herself, a tear slipped down her face. Why did her mother have to mention Lady Stanley?

The door opened, and she leaped to her feet, scrubbing her cheeks dry. She met her husband in the hall as he took off his hat and gloves. “Did you have a pleasant ride?” she blurted out.

Gerard glanced at her in surprise. “Yes. A most excellent ride.”

She nodded. Terrible images of him and Lady Stanley scrolled across her mind, no matter how hard she tried to stop them. “Did you ride with anyone?”

“Yes. Carter went out with me.”

“Only Lieutenant Carter?”

His head came up. “Why do you ask that?”

The blood was pounding in her cheeks. She told herself she was a fool, and still she heard herself asking the question, bluntly and harshly. “You weren’t riding with Lady Stanley?”

His face gave the reply. Kate turned and hurried up the stairs, filled with hurt and jealousy. Even if Lieutenant Carter rode with them, Gerard had been out with another woman, and he’d not told her.

He caught her in the dressing room as she searched in the wardrobe for her shawl. “Kate,” he said in the firm, patient tone of someone addressing a lunatic, “don’t be upset about this.”

She shook her head, refusing to look at him. “Why should I be upset? Have you done something wrong?”

“I don’t think so, no.” Which wasn’t an absolute denial.

“I’m sure you had a very good reason for riding out with another woman and not telling me about it.” She gave up searching in the wardrobe and closed the door. Perhaps the shawl was still downstairs.

“Yes, I did,” he snapped. “If you will listen, I will tell you.”

In a better mood, she would have listened calmly. Unfortunately his tone of voice—short and a bit annoyed—sounded eerily like her first husband’s tone when he brushed her aside. Suddenly she felt again like Katherine Howe, dull, insipid creature who was always the last to know what her husband was doing. She turned around to face Gerard, her hands clenched at her sides and her expression stony.

“I met Lady Stanley on the downs one morning a week ago. When she discovered we both like to range over the hills, she began coming out every morning.”

Her hope that this would turn out as innocently as when she