he missed anyone important? Raising his glass, he surveyed the room through the cut crystal. The faces all looked a little blurred by the faceted glass and refracted light. Only one seemed to stand out in sharp relief.
Look away.
The inner voice of Reason resonated loud and clear. However, he had been turning a deaf ear to the sound for longer than he cared to remember. Why change now?
Marco watched as Kate edged into the shadows of an arched alcove. A gentleman ought to respect her wish for a moment of privacy.
But he was no gentleman.
Hearing Von Seilig laugh set his teeth on edge. Had Kate allowed the colonel to make free with her favors? Any lady who had dallied with not one but possibly two men in one day deserved to be tormented just a little.
Chapter Fifteen
Kate slid around the corner of the ornate carved bookcases, grateful that the dark wood provided a sliver of sanctuary from the party. Perhaps she ought to have taken her maid’s suggestion and claimed to be feeling poorly.
She rubbed at her bare arms, feeling her flesh pebble beneath her touch. Hot. Cold. She couldn’t quite decide.
“Maybe I am ill,” she whispered, pressing her palms to her cheeks.
Encountering Von Seilig on the way down to the drawing room had only exacerbated her odd mood. The colonel was proving to be a very pleasant companion, and when he had asked if he might have a quick look at the newly arrived Liliaceae, she had not wished to put him off with platitudes about propriety.
The decision had been purely… intellectual. She admired his interest in botany, as well as his forthright demeanor. Unlike most military men she had met, he was not a strutting popinjay in love with his own glittering reflection of braid and brass.
As for any other interest…
Kate drew her brows together, wondering why she felt nothing but a warm friendship for the Prussian. Unlike the sparks of liquid fire that shot through her whenever Marco came near. Von Seilig was solid, steady. Marco was wild, wicked.
It made absolutely no sense. As a scientist, that bothered her. She set her teeth, slowly tightening the muscles of her jaw. She and her fellow ‘Sinners’ were used to solving complex conundrums. All one had to do was apply reason.
Yet when she was around Marco, reason seemed to go up in smoke.
Kate fanned her cheeks and listened to the clink of crystal and muted sounds of laughter. Much as she wished to linger in her refuge, she knew that she ought to return to the guests.
Gathering her skirts, she was about to step around the bookcase when a shadow fell across her path.
She hesitated, hearing the rasp of a ducal cough. “Ah, there you are. Why are you skulking in the shadows?”
For an instant, Kate thought Cluyne was talking to her, but then Charlotte answered.
“I am not skulking, sir. I was merely seeking a bit of space. I don’t mingle well in a crowd.”
Kate ventured a peek through the space between leather-bound spines. Cluyne and Charlotte were standing together in the recessed archway, half hidden from the rest of the guests by the fluted moldings. The duke’s dark evening clothes were indistinguishable from the paneling, but a nearby candelabra painted his profile in a soft light.
He thinned his lips, as if annoyed by the tart remark. But when he spoke, it was to comment on a different subject. One that Kate hoped he had forgotten about. “You weren’t in the conservatory with my granddaughter,” he accused. “Why did you say you were?”
“To prevent you from ringing a peal over her head,” replied Charlotte. “Why must you be such a martinet?”
“M-martinet?” sputtered Cluyne. “I am simply trying to ensure that Katharine does not… make the mistake of finding herself shunned by Society.”
“Well, you are going about it all wrong,” said Charlotte frankly. “Kate is a very independent young lady, and wise beyond her years.”
“Too independent,” growled Cluyne.
“Perhaps,” countered Charlotte. “Be that as it may, she is trying to fit in. You might make it easier if you were to show her a little kindness and understanding, rather than always shout and scowl.”
His mouth opened and then shut with a snap.
“It shouldn’t be so difficult. I have a feeling that your bark is worse than your bite.”
A ferocious frown tightened Cluyne’s face for a moment. And then, to Kate’s surprise, it relaxed into a wry grimace. “I’m not sure whether I have been complimented or castigated.”