unmarried young ladies of genteel birth, you are right, Colonel. They are not considered fair game for a gentleman,” went on Tappan. “I wouldn’t advise anyone to trifle with the duke’s granddaughter. To do so would be asking for grave trouble.”
Trouble. As Marco took another puff on his cheroot, the tip flared to a red-hot glow. That was putting it mildly. Seeking any further contact with Kate Woodbridge would be playing with fire. Lynsley had been very clear—his mission here was one of simple observation.
But then again, he seemed to be inexorably drawn to fire. Like a moth to a flame.
“A pity,” remarked Vronskov with a lascivious leer. “I wouldn’t mind bedding the beauty.”
Von Seilig frowned. “Keep a respectful tone when talking of Miss Woodbridge.”
The Russian rolled his eyes. “Don’t you Prussians ever unbend,” he muttered.
“We don’t behave like barbarians.”
“Shall we have a game of billiards before it is time to dress for dinner?” suggested Tappan.
Marco waved them on. “You go ahead. I think I shall stroll to the stables and see if the riding party has returned.” Tossing down the butt of tobacco, he ground it out beneath his boot, taking care to stamp out a sudden flare of irritation along with it. The Russian’s comments about Kate might be crude, but they were none of his concern. He wasn’t here to play the noble knight in shining armor—a role, he reminded himself, for which he was singularly ill-suited. Only the mission mattered.
Besides, she seemed perfectly confident of looking out for herself.
Chapter Nine
Candlelight flickered over the mahogany paneling and gilt-framed paintings. The click of crystal and the sounds of conversation were muted by the rich damask draperies and plush carpets. Kate drew a deep breath as she entered the main drawing room, feeling a little overpowered by its opulent elegance. Perhaps it sensed that she was an impostor, she thought wryly. Someone who didn’t quite belong.
“Sherry, Miss Woodbridge?” offered one of the passing footmen.
“Champagne,” she decided, hoping that the wine’s effervescence might add a little sparkle to her spirits. They were a little flat tonight… no doubt because her self-esteem had been thoroughly squashed by the morning’s debacle. Lud, she still couldn’t believe what a fool she had made of herself. From now on, she would stick to walking.
“Katharine.” Her grandfather’s voice rose above the hushed tones of the guests. “Do come join me.”
She crossed the room, trying not to limp.
A tiny frown pinched at the corners of his mouth. “Is something ailing you?”
“I’m just a bit sore from riding,” she replied—and then instantly regretted the admission on seeing who was standing by Cluyne’s side.
“One must be careful not to overdo a strenuous physical activity,” said Marco. “Especially if one is unaccustomed to it.”
He need not look so smug, thought Kate.
Marco seemed to read her mind, for his smile turned even more sardonic. “If you like, Miss Woodbridge, I would be happy to ride out with you and give you a few lessons.”
“As would I.” With a flourish, Vronskov appeared by her side and bowed over her hand.
“How kind,” she said to both of them. “But you gentlemen need not bother. I shall be spending most of my time in the conservatory.”
“Did I hear that you meet regularly to discuss science, Miss Woodbridge?” Von Seilig broke away from the group of guests by the hearth and came to join the duke’s circle.
“Yes.” Kate favored him with a smile, grateful for the opening to ignore both Marco and the Russian.
“I, too, have an interest in the subject, as does my superior, Wilhelm von Humboldt. He will be our ambassador to the Congress in Vienna, and I shall be serving on his staff.”
“Humboldt?” Kate didn’t have to feign interest. “The classical scholar and linguist who founded the University of Berlin?”
“Ja, Miss Woodbridge. And perhaps you have heard of his brother Alexander, who is a noted explorer and naturalist.”
“Indeed I have,” she replied enthusiastically. “His recent essay on ocean currents is quite fascinating!”
Marco cleared his throat with a cough. “Perhaps we ought to seek other company, Vronskov, before we find ourselves humbled by yet another paragon of manly virtue.”
The Russian scowled, clearly loath to leave the field to the colonel. “Bah, don’t bore Miss Woodbridge with talk of academics and books, Von Seilig. Ladies don’t comprehend such stuffy subjects. Nor do they care to.”
As he leaned in and smiled through his carefully curled mustache, Kate was forced to recoil. The man was as heavy-handed with his musky cologne as he was with