Lady Guinevere and the Rogue with a Brogue - Julie Johnstone Page 0,56
hear me name it,’” Kilgore said, reading the next line.
“‘Some dungeon?’” Guinevere felt almost as if she could be Anne in this moment.
“‘Your bedchamber,’” Kilgore read, not looking at her.
What was he trying to tell her?
“Kilgore, are you trying to tell me something?”
Just then, the door banged open and Talbot appeared. He glanced between them, his eyes widening. “I beg your pardon. I was looking for a place for me and Lady Constantine to practice our skit. I did not know this room was taken. How goes it?” Talbot asked as Lady Constantine appeared in the doorway, as well.
When Kilgore did not answer, Guinevere felt compelled to. “It goes well, my lord. We are practicing our skit now.”
“Do tell what it shall be,” Talbot said.
Guinevere opened her mouth to answer, but Kilgore spoke. “Richard III, Act One, Scene Two, where the lady allows herself to be seduced by the man she hates.”
“Excellent choice, Kilgore. We’ll leave you to it.” Talbot turned, but Lady Constantine did not move. She stood in the doorway, looking quite stricken to Guinevere, and it occurred to her in that moment that Lady Constantine might have a tendre for Kilgore.
“My lord,” Guinevere said to Kilgore. “Perhaps you ought to speak with Lady Constantine?”
He frowned. “Whyever would I do that? We have no business with each other, do we, Lady Constantine?”
“No,” she said, her face having gone pale. “I will leave you now.”
“At last,” he replied rudely.
The moment the door clicked shut, Guinevere scowled at Kilgore. “I think you should be kinder to her,” she said, barely resisting the urge to scold him like a naughty boy.
“I was not unkind,” he rejoined. “I simply have no need to speak with the lady.”
“Are you certain?” Guinevere asked, watching him.
He met her stare straight on. “I’m certain. I am no good for the lady, just as certain as Carrington is no good for you.”
“Pardon?” she asked, though she had heard perfectly. Her heart had already sped with his words.
“Never mind,” he said, glancing again at the book in his hands. “I spoke out of turn. Shall we continue?”
She could not proceed forth, in her life or this skit, without answers. “Not that I care at all,” she began, trying to sound nonchalant, “but why is it you think Carrington would be no good for me?”
He jerked his gaze up to meet hers. “If I tell you, I fear it will hurt you. Do you wish me to tell you knowing this?”
“I wish you to tell me,” she said slowly as unease gathered within her.
“Very well.” Kilgore sighed. “I once again find myself a slave to circumstances only partially of my making.” Before she could ask him what he meant by that, he said, “Carrington never desired you. It was a game to him to spite his father.”
She shook her head. “No, I asked him, and…and he told me that at first he wished to spite his father, but after he met me, his interest was true.” The doubt in her clamored, but she did not want to listen.
The look of pity Kilgore gave her sliced open the wound that had never quite healed. Her mind rebelled against that look.
Finally, he shook his head. “Well, Elizabeth herself told me Carrington had pursued her and that he had said his pursuit of you was only to spite his father, and he would break it off since he had accomplished his goal. He told her that the night in the library. He asked her to go there with him because she was angry at him for pursuing you.”
Guinevere frowned as a memory stirred. Elizabeth had acted very strangely that night, withdrawn, upset. She had hugged Guinevere at one point and told her she was sorry. Guinevere had questioned her, of course, and Elizabeth had said she was sorry for being so unlively that night, but after everything had happened, Guinevere had wondered if Elizabeth had been apologizing for betraying her with Asher. She certainly would not have been apologizing for a kiss that would not occur until later that night. Guinevere’s stomach clenched and then fell to the floor. She didn’t want to believe Kilgore, but it made sense that Elizabeth had felt guilty because she and Asher were carrying on and she had blurted an apology to Guinevere.
She blinked as the room seemed to grow dark. “I did not realize you and Elizabeth were even friends,” she murmured.